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MEMOIRS

OF

THE JACOBITES

OF 1715 AND 1745.

BY MRS. THOMSON,


AUTHOR OF

"MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF HENRY THE EIGHTH,"
"MEMOIRS OF SARAH, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH," ETC.

VOLUME III.

LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.
1845.


LONDON:

Printed by S. & J. BENTLEY, WILSON, and FLEY,
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.




PREFACE.


In completing this work, I have to repeat my acknowledgments to those
friends and correspondents to whom I expressed my obligations in the
Preface to the first volume; and I have the additional pleasure of
recording similar obligations from other channels.

I beg to testify my gratitude to Sir William Maxwell, Bart., of
Montreith, for some information regarding the Nithsdale family; which, I
hope, at some future time, to interweave with my biography of the Earl
of Nithsdale; and also to Miss Charlotte Maxwell, the sister of Sir
William Maxwell, whose enthusiasm for the subject of the Jacobites is
proved by the interesting collection of Jacobite airs which she is
forming, and which will be very acceptable to all who can appreciate
poetry and song.

To Sir John Maxwell, Bart., of Pollock, and to Lady Matilda Maxwell, I
offer my best thanks for their prompt and valued suggestions on the same
subject.

I owe much to the courtesy and great intelligence of Mrs. Howison
Craufurd, of Craufurdland Castle, Ayrshire: I have derived considerable
assistance from that lady in the life of the Earl of Kilmarnock, and
have, through her aid, been enabled to give to the public several
letters never before published. For original information regarding the
Derwentwater family, and for a degree of zeal, combined with accurate
knowledge, I must here express my cordial thanks to the Hon. Mrs.
Douglass, to whose assistance much of the interest which will be found
in the life of Charles Radcliffe is justly due.

I have also to acknowledge the kindness of Mons. Amedée Pichot, from
whose interesting work I have derived great pleasure and profit; and to
Madame Colmache, for her inquiries in the Biblothéque du Roi, for
original papers relating to the subject. To W. E. Aytoun, Esq., of
Edinburgh, I beg also to express my acknowledgments for his aid in
supplying me with some curious information regarding the Duke of Perth.
The kindness with which my researches, in every direction, have been
met, has added to my task a degree of gratification, which now causes
its close to be regarded with something almost like regret.

One advantage to be gained by the late publication of this third volume,
is the criticism of friends on the two former ones. Amid many errors, I
have been admonished, by my kind adviser and critic, Charles Kirkpatrick
Sharpe, Esq., of having erred in accepting the common authorities in
regard to the celebrated and unfortunate Lady Grange. Whatever were the
sorrows of that lady, her faults and the provocation she gave to her
irritated husband, were, it appears, fully equal to her misfortunes.
Since the story of Lady Grange is not strictly connected with my
subject, I have only referred to it incidentally. At some future time,
the singular narrative of her fate may afford me a subject of further
investigation.

I beg to correct a mistake into which I had fallen, in the first volume,
respecting those letters relating to the Earl of Mar, for which I am
indebted, to Alexander Macdonald, Esq. These, a distinct collection from
that with which I was favoured by James Gibson Craig, Esq., were copied
about twelve years ago, from the papers then in the possession of Lady
Frances Erskine. They have since passed into the possession of the
present Earl of Mar.

An interesting letter in the Appendix of this work, will be found
relative to the social state of the Chevalier St. George, at Rome. For
permission to publish this I am indebted to the valued friendship of my
brother-in-law, Samuel Coltman, Esq., in whose possession it is, having
been bequeathed, with other MSS. to his mother, by the well-known Joseph
Spence, author of the "Anecdotes", and of other works.

        LONDON,
    _28th March, 1846._




CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME.


                                                                    PAGE
LORD GEORGE MURRAY                                                     1

JAMES DRUMMOND, DUKE OF PERTH                                        226

FLORA MACDONALD                                                      310

WILLIAM BOYD, EARL OF KILMARNOCK                                     381

CHARLES RADCLIFFE                                                    480

With Portraits of Flora Macdonald, Prince Charles, and Lord Balmerino.




MEMOIRS OF THE JACOBITES.




LORD GEORGE MURRAY.


This celebrated adherent of the Chevalier was born in the year 1705. He
was the fifth son of John Duke of Atholl, and the younger brother of
that Marquis of Tullibardine, whose biography has been already given.

The family of Atholl had attained a degree of power and influence in
Scotland, which almost raised them out of the character of subjects. It
was by consummate prudence, not unattended with a certain portion of
time-serving, that, until the period 1715, the high position which these
great nobles held had been in seasons of political difficulty preserved.
Their political principles were those of indefeasible right and
hereditary monarchy. John, first Marquis of Atholl, the father of Lord
George Murray, married Amelia Stanley, daughter of Charlotte De la
Tremouille, Countess of Derby, whose princely extraction, to borrow a
phrase of high value in genealogical histories, was the least of her
merits. This celebrated woman was remarkable for the virtue and piety of
her ordinary life; and, when the season of trial and adversity called
it forth, she displayed the heroism which becomes the hour of adversity.
Her well-known defence of Latham House in 1644 from the assaults of the
Parliamentarian forces, and her protracted maintenance of the Isle of
Man, the last place in the English dominions that submitted to the
Parliament, were followed by a long and patient endurance of penury and
imprisonment.

The Marquis of Atholl was consistent in that adherence to the Stuarts
which the family of his wife had professed. He advocated the succession
of James the Second, and was rewarded with the royal confidence. Indeed,
such was the partiality of the King towards him, that had the Marquis
"in this sale of favour," as an old writer expresses it, "not been firm
and inflexible in the point of his religion, which he could not
sacrifice to the pleasure of any mortal, he might have been the first
minister for Scotland."[1] After the Revolution, the Marquis retired
into the country, and relinquished all public business; thus signifying
his opinion of that event.

He bequeathed to his son, John second Marquis of Atholl, and the father
of Lord George Murray, as great a share of prosperity and as many
sources of self-exultation as ordinarily fall to the lot of one man. To
the blood of the Murrays, the marriage with Lady Amelia Stanley had
added a connection in kindred with the Houses of Bourbon and Austria,
with the Kings of Spain and Duke of Savoy, the Prince of Orange, and
most of the crowned heads in Europe. Upon the extinction of the
descendants of John the seventh Earl of Derby, commonly called the
loyal Earl of Derby, and of his wife Charlotte De La Tremouille, "all
that great and uncommon race of royal and illustrious blood," as it has
been entitled, centred in the descendants of the Marquis of Atholl. In
1726, the barony of Strange devolved upon the Duke of Atholl; and the
principality of the Isle of Man was also bequeathed to the same House by
William ninth Earl of Derby. This was the accession of a later period,
but was the consequence of that great and honourable alliance of which
the family of Atholl might justly boast.

The father of Lord George Murray adopted every precaution, as we have
seen,[2] to preserve the acquisitions of dignity and fortune which the
lapse of years had added to his patrimonial possessions. Sixteen coats
of arms, eight on the paternal side, and eight on the maternal side, had
composed the escutcheon of his father, John Marquis of Atholl. Among
those great names on the maternal side, which graced a funeral
escutcheon, which has been deemed the pattern and model of perfect
dignity, and the perfection of ducal grandeur, was the name of the
Prince of Orange.[3] This plea of kindred was not thrown away upon the
Marquis of Atholl; he declared himself for King William, and entered
early into the Revolution. For this service he was rewarded with the
office of High Commissioner to represent his Majesty in the Scottish
parliament. But subsequent events broke up this compact, and destroyed
all the cordiality which subsisted between William and the head of the
House of Atholl. The refusal of the King to own the African Company was,
it is said, the reason why the Marquis withdrew himself from Court, and
remained at a distance from it during the lifetime of William.

The accession of Anne brought, at first, fresh honours to this powerful
Scottish nobleman. He was created in 1704 a Duke, and was made Privy
Seal: but the politics of the Court party changed; the Duke of Atholl
was dismissed from the Ministry, and he became henceforth a warm
opponent of all the Government measures. He spoke with boldness, yet
discretion, against the Union; and protested against a measure which, as
he conceived, gave up all the dignity and antiquity of the kingdom.

During his proud career, a marriage with Katherine, the daughter of
William Duke of Hamilton, a lady of great prudence, and of eminent piety
and virtue, added to the high consideration of the Duke of Atholl. Of
this nobleman, certain historians have left the highest character. "He
was," says Nisbet, "of great parts, but far greater virtues; of a lively
apprehension, a clear and ready judgment, a copious eloquence, and of a
very considerable degree of good understanding."[4] It is difficult to
reconcile this description with the intrigues and bitterness which
characterise the Duke of Atholl, in Lovat's narrative of their rivalry;
nor would it be easy to reconcile the public report of many men with the
details of their private failings. That, however, which has impugned the
consistency and sincerity of the Duke of Atholl far more than the
representations of Lovat, is the belief that, whilst his feelings were
engaged in one cause, his professions were loud in upholding the other;
that he was double and self-interested; and that he saved his vast
estates from forfeiture by an act of policy which might, in some
bearings, be regarded as duplicity, in proof of which it is asserted,
that, whilst he pretended to condemn the conduct of his eldest son in
joining the Rebellion of 1715, he was the chief instigator of that
step.[5] Such was the father to whom Lord George Murray owed his birth.

During the unbroken prosperity of his House, the future General of the
Jacobite army was born. He was the fifth son of eight children, borne by
the first Duchess of Atholl, and was born in the year 1705. Of these,
John the eldest, and presumptive heir to the dukedom, had been killed at
the battle of Mons, or Malplaquet, in 1709. He was a youth of great
promise, and his death was a source of deep lamentation to his father; a
sorrow which subsequent events did not, perhaps, tend to alleviate.
William, Marquis of Tullibardine, was therefore regarded as the next
heir to all the vast possessions and ancestral dignities of his House.
His faithful adherence to the Chevalier St. George, and the part which
he adopted in the Rebellion of 1715, produced a revolution in the
affairs of his family, which, one may suppose, could not be effected
without some delicacy, and considerable distress.

In 1716 the Marquis of Tullibardine was attainted by an act passed in
the first year of George the First; and by a bill, which was passed in
the House of Commons relating to the forfeited estates, all these
estates were vested in his Majesty from and after the twenty-fourth of
January 1715.[6] Upon this bill being passed, the Duke of Atholl, who
had been residing for many years with the splendour and state of a
prince at his Castle at Blair Atholl, journeyed to London, and, being
graciously received by George the First, he laid his case before that
monarch, representing the unhappy circumstances of his son, and pointing
out what effect and influence this might have, in the event of his own
death, on the succession of his family, if his estate and honour were
not vested in law upon his second son, Lord James Murray, who had
performed very signal service to his Majesty in the late rebellion. This
petition was received, and a bill was brought into parliament for
vesting the honours of John Duke of Atholl in James Murray, Esq.,
commonly called Lord James Murray; and, as a reward of his steady
loyalty, a law was passed, enacting that the act of attainder against
William Marquis of Tullibardine should not be construed to extend to
Lord James Murray or his issue. In consequence of this bill, on the
death of the Duke of Atholl, in 1724, Lord James Murray succeeded to all
those honours and estates, which had thus been preserved through the
prudence of his father, and the clemency or policy of the King.

In this divided House was Lord George Murray reared. It soon appeared
that he possessed the decision and lofty courage of his ancestry; and
that his early predilections, in which probably his father secretly
coincided, were all in favour of the Stuarts, and that no considerations
of self-interest could draw him from that adherence.

The events of 1715 occurring when Lord George Murray was only ten years
of age, his first active exertions in the cause of the Stuarts did not
take place until a later period. In the interim, the youth, who
afterwards distinguished himself so greatly, served his first
apprenticeship to arms in the British forces in Flanders. In 1719, when
only fourteen years of age, a fresh plan of invasion being formed by
Spain, and the Marquis of Tullibardine having again ventured to join in
the enterprise, Lord George showed plainly his attachment to the
Jacobite cause. He came over with the Marquis, with a small handful of
Spaniards, and was wounded at the battle of Glenshiels on the tenth of
June. Of his fate after that event, the following account has been given
by Wodrow,[7] who prefaces his statement with a congratulatory remark
that several of the Jacobites were by their sufferings converted from
their error. "At Glenshiels," he writes, referring to Lord George
Murray, "he escaped, and with a servant got away among the Highland
mountains, and lurked in a hut made for themselves for some months, and
saw nobody. It was a happy Providence that either he or his servant had
a Bible, and no other books. For want of other business, he carefully
read that neglected book, and the Lord blessed it with his present hard
circumstances to him. Now he begins to appear abroad, and it is said is
soon to be pardoned; and he is highly commended not only for a serious
convert from Jacobitism, but for a good Christian, and a youth of
excellent parts, hopes, and expectations."

It appears, however, that Lord George, however he might be changed in
his opinions, did not consider himself safe in Scotland. He fled to the
Continent, and entered the service of Sardinia, then, in consequence of
the quadruple alliance, allotted to the possessions of the Duke of
Savoy.

Meantime, through the influence of his family, and, perhaps, on the plea
of his extreme youth when he had engaged in the battle of Glenshiels, a
pardon was obtained for the young soldier. His father, as is related in
the manuscript account of the Highlands before quoted, "had found it his
interest to change sides at the accession of George the First." His
second brother, as he was now called, James Murray, or Marquis of
Tullibardine, was a zealous supporter of the Hanoverian Government,
although it proved no easy matter to engage his Clan in the same cause.

During many succeeding years, while Lord George Murray was serving
abroad, cultivating those military acquirements which afterwards, whilst
they failed to redeem his party from ruin, extorted the admiration of
every competent judge, the progress of events was gradually working its
way towards a second great attempt to restore the Stuarts.

Notwithstanding the apparent tranquillity of the Chevalier St. George,
he had been continually though cautiously maintaining, during his
residence at Albano, as friendly an intercourse with the English
visitors to Rome as circumstances would permit. Most young men of
family and condition travelled, during the time of peace, in Italy; many
were thus the opportunities which occurred of conciliating these
youthful scions of great and influential families. As one instance of
this fact, the account given by Joseph Spence, the author of the
"Anecdotes" and of "Polymetis," affords a curious picture of the
eagerness evinced by James and his wife, during the infancy of their
son, to ingraft his infant image on the memory, and affections of the
English. Mr. Spence visited Rome while Charles Edward was yet in his
cradle. He was expressly enjoined by his father, before his departure
from England, on no account to be introduced to the Chevalier. Yet such
were the advances made to him, as his own letter[8] will show, that it
was almost impossible for him to resist the overture: and similar
overtures were made to almost every Englishman of family or note who
visited Rome at that period.

In addition to these efforts, a continual correspondence was maintained
between James and his Scottish adherents. The Chevalier's greatest
accomplishment was his art of writing letters; and he appears eminently
to have excelled in that power of conciliation which was so essential in
his circumstance.

Meantime Charles grew up, justifying, as he increased in stature, and as
his disposition revealed itself, the most ardent expectations of those
who wished well to his cause. One failing he very early evinced; that
remarkable devotion to certain favourites which marked the conduct of
his ancestors; and the partiality was more commonly built upon the
adulation bestowed by those favourites than founded in reason.

It was in the year 1741 that the royal youth, then scarcely nineteen
years of age, became acquainted with a man whose qualities of mind, and
attractions of manner, exercised a very considerable influence over his
destiny; and whose character, pliant, yet bitter, intriguing and
perfidious, came afterwards into a painful collision with the haughty
overbearing temper, and manly sincerity, of Lord George Murray.

It was in consequence of the practice adopted by some of the hangers-on
of the Chevalier's court, of luring young English or Scottish strangers
to its circles, that John Murray of Broughton, afterwards Secretary to
Prince Charles, was first introduced to the young Chevalier. Murray was
the son of Sir David Murray, Bart., by his second wife, a daughter of
Sir David Scott of Ancrum: he was at this time only twenty-three years
of age, and he had lately completed his studies at Edinburgh, where he
had gone through a course of philosophy, and studied the civil and
municipal laws. The report which prevailed that Mr. Murray had been
educated with the young Chevalier was untrue; it was by the desire of
his mother, Lady Murray, that he first, in 1741, visited both France and
Italy, and perfected himself in the language of those countries, then by
no means generally attained by Scotchmen.

Mr. Murray had been brought up in the principles of the Episcopal
Church, and therefore there was less reason, than there would have been
in the case of a Roman Catholic, to apprehend his being beguiled into an
intimate connection with the exiled Stuarts. He had not, however, been
long in Rome before he was asked by an acquaintance whether he had seen
the Santi Apostoli, as the palace of the Chevalier was called. On
answering in the negative, he was assured that, through a knowledge of
some of the servants, a sight might be obtained of the palace; and also
of the Protestant chapel, in which, as Mr. Murray heard with great
surprise, the Chevalier allowed service to be performed for such of the
retinue of the young Prince as were of the Protestant persuasion. It was
also alleged that this indulgence was with the cognizance of the Pope,
who, in order to remove the barrier which prevented the Stuarts from
enjoying the crown of England, was willing to allow Charles Edward to be
brought up as a Protestant. This assertion was further confirmed by the
fact, that the noblemen, Lord Inverness and Lord Dunbar, who had the
charge of Charles Edward, were both Protestants; a choice on the part of
James which had produced all that contention between himself and the
Princess Clementina, with the details of which the Courts of Europe were
entertained.

The family and retinue of the Chevalier St. George being then at Albano,
Mr. Murray was able to gratify his curiosity, and to inspect the chapel,
which had neither crucifix, confessional, nor picture in it,--only an
altar,--and was not to be distinguished from an English chapel; and here
English divines officiated. Here, it is said, whilst at his devotions, a
slight accident occurred, which nourished a belief in presages in the
mind of Charles Edward. A small piece of the ceiling, ornamented with
flowers in fretwork, fell into his lap; it was discovered to be a
thistle: soon afterwards, another of these ornaments became detached,
and fell also into his lap; this proved to be a rose. Such omens,
coupled with the star of great magnitude which astronomers asserted to
have appeared at his nativity, were, it was thought, not without their
effect on the hopes and conduct of the young Prince. One can hardly,
however, do him so much injustice as to suppose that such could be the
case.

Mr. Murray expressed, it is affirmed, a considerable degree of curiosity
to see the Chevalier and his two sons, who were both highly extolled for
their natural gifts and graces; the wish was communicated, and, acting
upon the principle of attracting all comers to the Court, was soon
realised: a page was sent, intimating that Mr. Murray's attendance would
be well received, and he was, by an order from the Chevalier, graciously
admitted to kiss hands. Such was the commencement of that acquaintance
which afterwards proved so fatal to the interests of Prince Charles, and
so disgraceful to the cause of the Jacobites. Such was the introduction
of the young Prince to the man who subsequently betrayed his companions
in misfortune. This step was shortly followed by an intimacy which,
probably in the commencement, was grounded upon mutual good-will. Men
become perfidious by slow degrees; and perform actions, as they advance
in life, which they would blush to reflect on in the day-dawn of their
honest youth.

This account is, however, derived from the statements of an anonymous
writer, evidently an apologist for the errors of Mr. Murray,[9] and is
contradicted so far as the sudden conversion of the young Scotchman to
the cause of the Stuarts, by the fact that he had all his life been a
violent Jacobite.[10] On the other hand, it is alleged by Mr. Murray's
champion, that his feelings and affections, rather than his reason, were
quickly engaged in the cause of the Chevalier, from his opportunities of
knowing intimately the personal qualities of the two royal brothers,
Charles Edward and Henry Benedict. He was, moreover, independent of
circumstances; being in the enjoyment of a fortune of three or four
hundred a year, which was considered a sufficient independence for a
younger brother, and therefore interest, it is alleged, could not have
been an inducement to his actions.

Whether from real admiration, or from a wish to disseminate in Scotland
a favourable impression of the Stuart Princes, it is difficult to
decide; but Mr. Murray, in 1742, dispatched to a lady in Scotland, who
had requested him to describe personages of so great interest to the
Jacobites, the following, perhaps, not exaggerated portrait of what
Charles Edward was in the days of his youth, and before he had left the
mild influence of his father's house.

"Charles Edward, the eldest son of the Chevalier de St. George is tall,
above the common stature; his limbs are cast in the exact mould, his
complexion has in it somewhat of an uncommon delicacy; all his features
are perfectly regular, well turned, and his eyes the finest I ever saw;
but that which shines most in him, and renders him without exception the
most surprisingly handsome person of the age, is the dignity that
accompanies his every gesture; there is, indeed, such an unspeakable
majesty diffused throughout his whole mien and air, as it is impossible
to have any idea of without seeing, and strikes those that do with such
an awe, as will not suffer them to look upon him for any time, unless he
emboldens them to it by his excessive affability.

"Thus much, madam, as to the person of this Prince. His mind, by all I
can judge of it, is no less worthy of admiration; he seems to me, and I
find to all who know him, to have all the good nature of the Stuart
family blended with the spirit of the Sobieskys. He is, at least as far
as I am capable of seeing into men, equally qualified to preside in
peace and war. As for his learning, it is extensive beyond what could be
expected from double the number of his years. He speaks most of the
European languages with the same ease and fluency as if each of them
were the only one he knew; is a perfect master of all the different
kinds of Latin, understands Greek very well, and is not altogether
ignorant of Hebrew; history and philosophy are his darling
entertainments, in both which he is well versed; the _one_ he says will
instruct him how to govern _others_, and the _other_ how to govern
_himself_, whether in _prosperous_ or _adverse_ fortune. Then for his
courage, that was sufficiently proved at the siege of Gaità, where
though scarcely arrived at the age of fifteen, he performed such things
as in attempting made his friends and his enemies alike tremble, though
for different motives. What he is ordained for, we must leave to the
Almighty, who alone disposes all; but he appears to be born and endowed
for something very extraordinary."[11]

It was not long before Mr. Murray perceived that, although James Stuart
had given up all hopes of the English crown for himself, he still
cherished a desire of regaining it for his son. Scotland was of course
the object of all future attempts, according to the old proverb:

    "He that would England win,
    Must with Scotland first begin."

The project of an invasion, if not suggested by Murray, as has been
stated, was soon communicated to him; and his credit attained to such an
extent, that he was appointed by the Chevalier, at the request of Prince
Charles, to be secretary for Scottish affairs. At the latter end of the
year 1742 he was sent to Paris, where he found an emissary of the
Stuarts, Mr. Kelly, who was negotiating in their behalf at the Court of
France. Here Murray communicated with Cardinal Tencin, the successor of
Cardinal Fleury, in the management of the affairs of the Chevalier, and
here he met the exiled Marquis of Tullibardine, who, notwithstanding his
losses and misfortunes in the year 1715, was still sanguine of ultimate
success. Here, too, was the unfortunate Charles Radcliffe, who, with
others once opulent, once independent, were now forced to submit to
receive, with many indignities in the payment, pensions from the French
Government. It was easy to inflame the minds of persons so situated with
false hopes; and Murray is said to have been indefatigable in the
prosecution of his scheme. After a delay of three weeks in Paris, he set
off on that memorable undertaking to engage the Clans, which ultimately
ended in the insurrection of 1745.

Lord George Murray, meantime, had returned to his native country, where
he was presented to George the Second, and solicited, but ineffectually,
a commission in the British army. This was refused, and the ardour in
the Stuart cause, which we may presume to have wavered, again revived in
its original vigour.

Previous to the Insurrection of 1745, Lord George Murray married Amelia,
the only surviving child and heiress of James Murray of Glencarse and
Strowan, a lady who appears, both from the terms of affection and
respect expressed towards her by the Marquis of Tullibardine, and from
the tenour of her own letters, to have coincided warmly in the efforts
of her husband for the restoration of the Stuarts.[12] Five children
were the issue of this marriage.

The course which public affairs were now taking checked, however,
completely all hopes of domestic felicity. After several unsuccessful
negotiations in Paris attempted by the agents of James Stuart, and in
London by Lord Elcho, the scheme of invasion languished for some time.
Whilst all was apparently secure, however, the metropolis was the scene
of secret cabals and meetings of the Jacobites, sometimes at one place,
sometimes at another; but unhappily for their cause, the party generally
wanted compactness and discretion. "The little Jacobites," as those who
were not in the secret of these manoeuvres were called, began to
flatter themselves that a large army would land in England from France
that summer. Nor was it the policy of Government to check these reports,
which strengthened the hands of the ministry, and procured a grant of
the supplies with alacrity. The Jacobites, meantime, ran from house to
house, intoxicated with their anticipated triumphs; and such chance of
success as there might be was thus rendered abortive.

The year 1743 ended, however; and the visions of the Jacobites vanished
into air. Donald Cameron of Lochiel, the elder, who visited Paris for
the purpose of ascertaining what were the real intentions of the French
cabinet, found that even the Cardinal Tencin did not think it yet time
for the attempt, and he returned to Scotland disheartened. The death of
the Cardinal Fleury in 1743 added to the discomfiture of his hopes.[13]
Above all, the reluctance of the English Jacobites to pledge themselves
to the same assurances that had been given by the Scotch, and their
shyness in conversing with the people who were sent from France or
Scotland on the subject, perplexed the emissaries who arrived in this
country, and offered but a faint hope of their assistance from England.

But, in the ensuing year, the affairs of the Jacobites brightened;
France, which had suspended her favours, once more encouraged and
flattered the party. A messenger was dispatched to the palace of Albano,
to acquaint the Chevalier that the day was now arrived when his views
might be expected to prosper; whilst at the same time the utmost pains
were taken by the French Government to appear to the English averse to
the pretensions of James Stuart. It affords, indeed, another trait of
the unfortunate tendency of the Stuart family to repose a misplaced
confidence, that they should have relied on professions so hollow and so
vague as those of France. But the dependent and desolate situation of
that Prince may well be supposed to have blinded a judgment not ripened
by any active participation in the general business of life, and
narrowed within his little Court. Besides, there remained some who,
after the conflict at Culloden was over, could even view the enterprise
as having been by no means unauspicious. "Upon the whole," writes
Maxwell of Kirkconnel, "the conjuncture seemed favourable; and it is not
to be wondered that a young Prince, naturally brave, should readily lay
hold of it. There was a prospect of recalling his father from an exile
nearly as long as his life, saving his country from impending ruin, and
restoring both to the enjoyment of their rights."[14]

Great preparations were in fact actually made by the French Government
for the invasion of Great Britain. The young Prince, who was forthwith
summoned from Rome, was to land in the Highlands and head the Clans;
Lord John Drummond, it was arranged, should make a descent on the
southern part of the island, and endeavour to join the young Chevalier,
and march towards Edinburgh. Twelve thousand French were to pour into
Wales at the same time, under the command of a general who was never
named, and to join such English insurgents as should rally to their
assistance.

This scheme, had it been executed with promptness, might perhaps have
prospered better than, in these later times, in the security of an
undisturbed succession, we are inclined to allow. General discontents
prevailed in England. The partiality which had been shown to the
Hanoverian troops in preference to the English at the battle of
Dettingen had irritated, if not alienated, the affections of the army.
The King and the Duke of Cumberland were abroad, and a small number of
ships only guarded the coast. Parliament was not sitting; and most of
the members both of the Lords and Commons, and of the Privy Council,
were at their country-seats. But the proper moment for the enterprise
was lost by delays, and the same opportunity never again occurred.

Meantime, the young Prince who was to influence the destiny of so many
brave men, accompanied by his brother, left Rome furtively, under
pretext of going to hunt at Cisterna. A tender affection, cemented by
their adversities, existed between James Stuart and his sons. As they
parted from each other with tears and embracings, the gallant Charles
Edward exclaimed, "I go to claim your right to three crowns: If I fail,"
he added earnestly, "your next sight of me, sir, shall be in my coffin!"
"My son," exclaimed the Chevalier, "Heaven forbid that all the crowns in
the world should rob me of my child!"[15] Mr. Murray of Broughton was
present at this interview; the prelude to disasters and dangers to the
ardent young man, and of anxieties and disappointments to his father,
feelingly depicted in the Chevalier's touching letters to his
children.[16]

By a stratagem the young Prince effected his journey from Rome without
its becoming known, and eleven days after his departure from that city
elapsed before it was made public. He was accompanied by Henry Benedict,
who was at this time a youth of great promise. He is described as having
had, as well as his brother, a very fine person, though somewhat shorter
in stature than that ill-fated young man, and of a less delicate
complexion. He seems to have been, perhaps, better constituted for the
career of difficulty which Charles Edward encountered. He was of a
robust form, with an unusual fire in his eyes. Whilst his brother united
the different qualities of the Stuart and the Sobieski, Henry Benedict
is said to have been more entirely actuated by the spirit of his great
ancestor, King John of Poland; by whom, and the handful of Christians
whom he headed, a hundred and fifty thousand Turks were defeated. Even
when only nine years of age, the high-spirited boy, whose martial
qualities were afterwards subdued beneath the taming influence of a
Cardinal's hat, resented the refusal of his father to allow him to
accompany his brother to assist the young King of Naples in the recovery
of his dominions; and could only be pacified by the threat of having his
garter, the beloved insignia of English knighthood, taken from him as
well as his sword.[17][18]

It soon became evident that the designs of France were not unknown at
St. James's. The celebrated Chauvelin, Secretary of State to Louis the
Fifteenth, had long been employing his influence over the Cardinal
Fleury to counteract the wishes of the English. By a slight accident his
designs were disclosed to Queen Caroline. Chauvelin had,
unintentionally, among other papers, put into the hands of the Earl of
Waldegrave, then ambassador in France, a letter from the Chevalier. Lord
Waldegrave immediately sent it to Queen Caroline. This involved a long
correspondence between Sir Robert Walpole and Waldegrave on the subject.
"Jacobitism," to borrow the language of Dr. Cox, "at this time produced
a tremor through every nerve of Government; and the slightest incident
that discovered any intercourse between the Pretender and France
occasioned the most serious apprehensions."[19] The spirit of
insurrection and discontent had long pervaded not only the capital,
which was disturbed by frequent tumults, but the country; and the murder
of Porteous in Edinburgh, in 1736, was proved only to be the result of a
regular systematic plan of resistance to the Government.[20]

The death of Queen Caroline deprived the oppressed Jacobites in both
kingdoms of their only friend at Court. The unfortunate of all modes of
faith met, indeed, with protection and beneficence from that excellent
Princess. Those Roman Catholics, whose zeal for the Stuart cause had
exposed them to the rigour of the law, were succoured by her bounty;
large sums were sent by her to the indigent and ruined Jacobite
families; and Sir Robert Walpole, who was greatly disturbed at this show
of mercy to the delinquent party, truly exclaimed, "that the Jacobites
had a ready access to the Queen by the backstairs, and that all attempts
to suppress them would be ineffectual."[21]

The last efforts of Walpole, then Lord Orford, were exerted to warn the
country of the danger to be feared in that second invasion, for
prognosticating which he had so often been severely ridiculed. He
alluded to "the greatest power in Europe, which was setting up a
Pretender to the throne; the winds alone having hindered an invasion and
protected Britain." He warned the Lords, that the rebellion which he
anticipated would be "fought on British ground." The memorable oration
in which he unfolded these sentiments, which were delivered with great
emotion, touched the heart of Frederic Prince of Wales; who arose,
quitted his seat, and, taking Lord Orford by the hand, expressed his
acknowledgments.[22] That warning was the last effort of one sinking
under an excruciating disease, and to whose memory the tragedy of 1715
must still have been present.

Charles Edward, to whose ill-omened attempts to sail from Dunkirk,
Walpole had thus alluded, had borne that disastrous endeavour with a
fortitude which augured well for his future powers of endurance. Mr.
Maxwell[23] thus describes his commencement of the voyage. "Most of the
troops," he says, "were already embarked, when a furious storm dispersed
the ships of war, and drove the transports on the coast: the troops
already embarked were glad to gain the shore, having lost some of their
number. It is hardly possible to conceive a greater disappointment than
that which the Prince met with on this occasion. How severely soever he
might feel it, he did not seem dejected; on the contrary, he was in
appearance cheerful and easy; encouraged such of his friends as seemed
most deeply affected, telling them Providence would furnish him with
other occasions of delivering his father's subjects, and making them
happy. Immediately after this disaster the expedition was given up, and
the Prince returned to Paris, where he lived incognito till he set out
for Scotland. Not long after his return to Paris, war was declared
betwixt France and England, which gave him fresh hopes that something
would be undertaken. But after several months, seeing no appearance, he
grew very impatient, and began to think of trying his fortune with such
friends as would follow him: he was sick of the obscure way he was in;
he thought himself neglected by the court of France, but could not bear
the thoughts of returning to Rome. He had heard much of the loyalty and
bravery of the Scotch Highlanders; but the number of those Clans he
could depend upon was too inconsiderable to do anything effectual. While
he was thus perplexed and fluctuating, John Murray of Broughton arrived
from Scotland."

In this emergency, the flattering representations of Murray of
Broughton found a ready response in the young Prince's heart.
Notwithstanding the assertions of that individual in his evidence at
Lovat's trial, that he had used every means to dissuade the Prince from
going to Scotland,[24] it is expressly stated by Mr. Maxwell,[25] that
he "advised the Prince, in his own name, to come to Scotland at any
rate; it was his opinion that the Prince should come as well provided
and attended as possible, but rather come alone than delay coming; that
those who had invited the Prince, and promised to join him if he came at
the head of four or five thousand regular troops, would do the same if
he came without any troops at all; in fine, that he had a very strong
party in Scotland, and would have a very good chance of succeeding. This
was more than enough to determine the Prince. The expedition was
resolved upon, and Murray despatched to Scotland with such orders and
instructions as were thought proper at that juncture."

Mr. Murray may therefore be considered as in a great measure responsible
for the event of that proceeding, which he afterwards denounced as a
"desperate undertaking." He found, unhappily, ready instruments in the
unfortunate Marquis of Tullibardine, in Mr. Radcliffe, and others, whose
fate he may thus be considered to have hastened by his alluring
representations of the prospects of success.

When it was decided that Charles Edward should throw himself on the
loyalty of the Clans, and intimation was given of the whole scheme, Lord
George Murray prepared for action. The landing of the Prince, the
erection of a standard at Glenfinnin, the march through Lochiel, and the
encampment between Glengarry and Fort Augustus, were events which he did
not personally aid by his presence. He was, indeed, busily employed in
assembling his father's tenantry; and it was not until the Prince
arrived at Perth that Lord George Murray was presented to him; he was
almost immediately created a Lieutenant-General in the Prince's service.
His power in the Highlands was, indeed, of a far greater extent than
that military rank would seem to imply; for, although the Marquis of
Tullibardine was the nominal commander in the North, to Lord George
Murray was entrusted the actual management of affairs; an arrangement
with which the modest and conscientious Tullibardine willingly complied.

The character of Lord George might be considered as partly sobered by
time; since, at the commencement of the Rebellion of 1745, he was forty
years of age. He was in the full vigour, therefore, of his great natural
and intellectual powers, which, when at that period of life they have
been ripened by exercise and experience, are perhaps at their zenith.
The person of Lord George was tall and robust; he had the self-denial
and energy of his countrymen. He slept little, and entered into every
description of detail; he was persevering in everything which he
undertook; he was vigilant, active, and diligent. To these qualities he
united a natural genius for military operations; and his powers were
such, that it was justly thought, that, had he been well instructed in
military tactics, he would have formed one of the ablest generals of
the day. As it was, the retreat from Derby, ill-advised as it may be
deemed, is said to have sufficiently manifested his skill as a
commander.

In addition to these attributes, Lord George was brave to the highest
degree; and, in all engagements, was always the first to rush sword in
hand into danger. As he advanced to the charge, and looked round upon
the Highlanders, whose character he well understood, it was his practice
to say, "I do not ask you, my lads, to go before; but only to follow
me."[26] It cannot be a matter of surprise, that, with this bold and
resolute spirit, Lord George was the darling of the Highland soldiers;
and that his strong influence over their minds should have enabled him
to obviate, in some measure, the deficiencies of discipline. "Taking
them," as a contemporary writer asserts, "merely as they came from the
plough, he made them perform prodigies of valour against English armies,
always greatly superior in number to that of the Prince Charles Edward,
although the English troops are allowed to be the best in Europe." Thus
endowed, Lord George Murray showed how feeble are the advantages of
birth, compared with those of nature's gift. In rank, if not in family
connections, and in an hereditary hold upon the affections of his
countrymen, the Duke of Perth might be esteemed superior; but, brave and
honourable as he was, that amiable nobleman could never obtain the
confidence of the army as a general. It is not, however, to be supposed
that any commander would ever have obtained an influence over a
Highland army, if he had not added high birth to his other requisites.
The Clansmen were especially aristocratic in their notions; and the
names which they had honoured and loved from their birth, were alone
those to which they would eagerly respond.

To counterbalance the fine, soldierly characteristics which graced the
lofty and heroic Lord George Murray, some defects, of too stern a nature
to be called weaknesses, but yet indicative of narrowness of mind,
clouded his excellent qualities. Unlike most great men, he was not open
to conviction. That noble candour, which can bear counsels, or receive
even admonition with gratitude, was not a part of his haughty nature. A
sense of superiority over every human being rendered him impatient of
the slightest controul, and greedy of exclusive power. He was imperious
and determined; and was deficient in the courtesy which forms, combined
with honesty, so fine an attribute in a soldier's bearing. "He wanted,"
says one who knew him well, "the sole ordering of everything."[27]

At Perth, Lord George Murray met with the famous Chevalier Johnstone,
whom he soon adopted into his service. This young soldier, whose pen has
supplied memoirs of the Rebellion of 1745, and upon whose statements
much of the reported merits of Lord George Murray rests, was the only
son of a merchant in Edinburgh, and the descendant of an ancient and
well-connected family. By the marriage of his sister he was nearly
related to the House of Rollo; and, from these and other circumstances,
he mingled with the best society in his native city.

Having been educated in Jacobite and Episcopalian principles, young
Johnstone hailed with delight the arrival of Prince Charles: he resolved
instantly to join his standard. Escaping from Edinburgh, he hastened to
Duncrub, the seat of Lord Rollo, near Perth. Here he awaited the arrival
of the young Chevalier; and here he was introduced by his cousins, the
daughters of Lord Rollo, to the Duke of Perth and to Lord George Murray.
The Chevalier Johnstone was one of the first Low-countrymen that joined
the standard of Charles Edward.

Lord George Murray very soon discovered that the requisites for forming
a good soldier and an active partizan were centred in young Johnstone.
For the former he was qualified by an open and impetuous character,
generally combined with a desperate courage. The jollity and licence of
the Cavalier school, which characterized Johnstone, did not materially
detract from, but added rather to the popularity of his character. As a
partizan, he has proved his zeal by his Memoirs, which afford a sample
of much heat and prejudice, and which have, in upholding Lord George
Murray, done an injury to the memory of Charles Edward, of which the
adversaries of his cause have not failed to take advantage. To many
errors of character, and to some egotism, the Chevalier Johnstone, as he
came to be called in after-life, united a kind heart and an enthusiastic
disposition. He acted for a considerable time as aide-de-camp to Lord
George Murray, and afterwards in the same capacity with the Prince. But
his liveliest admiration appears to have been directed towards the
general who has been classed with Montrose and Dundee,[28] and no
subsequent service under other masters ever effaced his impression of
respect and confidence to Lord George Murray. After the battle of
Preston-Pans Johnstone received a captain's commission from the Prince:
and, exhausted with his duties as aide-de-camp, he formed a company,
with which he joined the Duke of Perth's regiment. His history, mingled
up as it is with that of the General under whom he first served, must
necessarily be incorporated with the following narrative.

Lord George Murray continued, for some time, busily engaged in rallying
around him his brother's vassals. The Duke of Atholl is partly
proprietor, partly superior, of the country which bears his name. That
region is inhabited by Stuarts and Robinsons, none of the Duke's name
living upon his estates. Of these, several have fiefs or mortgages of
the Atholl family, and command the common people of their respective
Clans; but, like other Highlanders, they believe that they are bound to
rise in arms when the chief of their whole Clan requires it. The vassals
on the Atholl territory were well-affected to the Stuarts, great pains
having been taken by the father of Lord George Murray, notwithstanding
his efforts to appear loyal to the Government, to infuse the spirit of
Jacobitism among them.[29]

Of the events which succeeded his joining the Prince's standard at
Perth, until the commencement of the retreat from Derby, Lord George
Murray has left a succinct relation. It is written, as are his letters,
in a plain, free, manly style, which dispels all doubt as to the
sincerity of the narrator.

"I joined the standard at Perth,"[30] he begins, "the day his Royal
Highness arrived there. As I had formerly known something of a Highland
army, the first thing I did was to advise the Prince to endeavour to get
proper people for provisors and commissaries, for otherwise there would
be no keeping the men together, and they would straggle through the
whole country upon their marches if it was left to themselves to find
provisions; which, beside the inconveniency of irregular marches, and
much time lost, great abuses would be committed, which, above all
things, we were to avoid. I got many of the men to make small knapsacks
of sacking before we left Perth, to carry a peck of meal each upon
occasion; and I caused take as many threepenny loaves there as would be
three days' bread to our small army, which was carried in carts. I sent
about a thousand of these knapsacks to Crieff, to meet the men who were
coming from Atholl."

The difficulties which Lord George encountered were, it is evident,
considerable. Upon the arrival of Charles Edward at Perth, his army
amounted only to two thousand men,[31] until he was joined by Lord
George Murray, by the Duke of Perth, and by Lord Nairn, and other
persons of distinction.[32] There were few persons in that army who were
capable, by being versed in military affairs, of giving Lord George
Murray any advice or assistance. The Highland chiefs possessed the most
heroic courage; but they knew no other manoeuvre but that of rushing,
sword in hand, upon an enemy. The Irish officers were equally deficient
in experience and knowledge; and, with the exception of Mr. Sullivan,
are stated "to have had no more knowledge than the whole stock of
subalterns, namely, the knowing how to mount and quit guard." Such is
the description given of the collected forces by Johnstone. But,
although not trained as regular soldiers, and accustomed chiefly to the
care of herds of black cattle, whom they wandered after in the
mountains, the Highlanders had a discipline of their own. Their chiefs
usually kept about them several retainers experienced in the use of
arms; and a meeting of two or three gentlemen was sure to bring together
a little army, for the habits of the clansmen were essentially military.
It was, some considered, a circumstance favourable to Lord George
Murray, that, being unprepared by an early military education, he was
unfettered by its formal rules, and therefore was more calculated to
lead an undisciplined army of Highlanders, whose native energies he knew
how to direct better than a skilful tactician would have ventured to
do.[33] During his stay at Perth, the Highlanders, so prone to
irregularities when not in active service, were tranquil under the
strictest military rule.[34]

It was here, however, that the first seeds of dissension were sown
between Charles Edward and Lord George. Sir Thomas Sheridan, the tutor
of the Prince, who was allowed to "have lived and died a man of honour,"
but who was manifestly incapable of the great charge intrusted to him,
both in the education of the young Princes and as their adviser in
after-life, added to his other deficiencies a total ignorance of the
British constitution and habits of thinking. The Prince, of course, was
equally ill-informed. They were therefore in the practice, in
conversation, of espousing sentiments of arbitrary power, which were
equally impolitic and unbecoming. Sincere and shrewd, Lord George Murray
lost no time in expressing to Charles Edward his decided disapproval of
this tone of discourse. His motives in these expostulations were
excellent, but his overbearing manner nullified all the good that might
have been effected. He offended the Prince, who repressed indeed his
secret indignation, but whose pride, fostered by circumstances, could
ill brook the assumption of his General.[35]

It was not until the Prince reached Edinburgh that a regular Council was
formed; consisting of the Duke of Perth, Lord George Murray, Lord Elcho,
Secretary Murray, Sir Thomas Sheridan, and Mr. Sullivan, the Highland
chiefs, and afterwards of all the colonels in the army. But, among the
advisers of the Prince, an "ill-timed emulation," as Mr. Maxwell calls
it, now crept in, and bred great dissension and animosities. "The
dissensions," he states, "began at Edinburgh:" according to Sir Walter
Scott, they had an earlier origin, and originated at Perth.

They were aggravated, as in the Council at Perth in the time of Lord
Mar, by the base passions of an individual. Detesting the weak and
crooked policy of Mar and viewing from his calm position as an inferior
actor, with a fiendish pleasure, the embarrassments and mistakes of him
whom he hated, stood the Master of Sinclair. Blinded by a selfish
jealousy of power over the mind of him whom he afterwards betrayed to
the ruin which he was working, and "aiming at nothing less than the sole
direction and management of everything, the Secretary Murray sacrificed
to this evil passion, this thirst for ascendancy, all the hopes of
prosperity to Charles Edward--all present peace to the harassed and
perplexed young man whom his counsels had brought to Scotland. It was
he," strongly, and perhaps bitterly, writes Mr. Maxwell, "that had
engaged the Prince to make this attempt upon so slight a foundation, and
the wonderful success that had hitherto attended it was placed to his
account."

By some the sincerity of Murray's loyalty and good-faith were even
credited. The Duke of Perth, among a few others, judged of Murray's
heart by his own, went readily into all his schemes, and confirmed the
Prince in the opinion which he had imbibed of his favourite. After Kelly
had left the Prince, Murray contrived to gain over Sullivan and Sir
Thomas Sheridan, and by that means effectually governed Charles Edward.
The fearless, lofty, honest character of Lord George Murray alone
offered an obstacle to the efforts of the Secretary to obtain, for his
own purposes, an entire controul; he cherished towards the General that
aversion which a mean and servile nature ever feels to one whose
dealings are free from fraud or deceit. He also feared him as a rival,
and it became his aim to undermine him, and to lay a plot for the chief
stay and prop of the undertaking. It was naturally to be supposed that
Lord George Murray's age, his high birth, his experience and influence,
and his great capacity, would have given him an advantage over his
dastardly rival, and have gained the first consideration with the
Prince. But Murray of Broughton, unhappily, had acquired an early
influence over the credulous mind of the young adventurer. His
acquaintance beneath the roof of the Santi Apostoli had secured an
unhappy confidence in his fidelity and worth. He shortly took advantage
of the sentiments which ought to have ensured the nicest honour, the
most scrupulous truth, in return, to deceive and to mislead his young
master.[36]

Unfortunately there was one point upon which the honour of Lord George
Murray was to be suspected. He "_was said_" to have solicited a
commission in the English army.[37] Upon this supposed early defection
of Lord George to the Hanoverian party, Murray grounded his accusations.

"He began by representing Lord George as a traitor to the Prince; he
assured him that he had joined on purpose to have an opportunity of
delivering him up to Government. It was hardly possible to guard against
this imposture. The Prince had the highest opinion of his Secretary's
integrity, and knew little of Lord George Murray. So the calumny had its
full effect. Lord George soon came to know the suspicion the Prince had
of him, and was affected, as one may easily imagine; to be sure, nothing
could be more shocking to a man of honour, and one that was now for the
third time venturing his life and fortune for the royal cause. The
Prince was partly undeceived by Lord George's gallant behaviour at the
battle; and, had Lord George improved that opportunity, he might perhaps
have gained the Prince's favour, and get the better of the Secretary:
but his haughty and overbearing manner prevented a thorough
reconciliation, and seconded the malicious insinuations of his rival."

Another anecdote is related, on the authority of Murray of Broughton: On
the tenth of October the Chevalier issued a manifesto, dated from
Holyrood House. This document is acknowledged, even by the opposite
party, to have been remarkably well written:[38] but it was not
completed without some heart-burnings, arising from the distrust of many
members of the Kirk, who conceived that it did not contain assurances
for the security of their manner of Divine worship. A grand council was
therefore held, concerning the alterations which were necessary to
conciliate the good opinion of the Presbyterians. Mr. Kelly, who had
drawn up the manifesto, was very tenacious of his performance; but the
majority of those who were present were of opinion that the manifesto
would prosper better if a promise of putting the penal laws against
Papists into effect were added to it. Upon this proposition the young
Chevalier was observed to change countenance, doubtless reflecting that
it would be ungrateful to depress those who had been such real friends
to his father. He had, however, the prudence to say but little, and to
maintain a neutral position during the debate, which was carried on with
much bitterness on both sides of the question. It is remarkable that the
Duke of Perth, Sullivan, and O'Neil, who were all Papists, voted for the
addition; whilst many who were of the Reformed Church opposed it.
Amongst these was Lord George Murray, who, starting up and turning to
Charles Edward, exclaimed, with an oath, "Sir, if you permit this
article to be inserted, you will lose five hundred thousand friends;"
meaning that there were that number of Papists in England. On this, the
Prince arose from his chair and withdrew, offended, as it was thought,
by the vehemence and overbearing advice of Lord George. As he left the
room, he said, "I will have it decided by a majority." But the freedom
with which he had been treated appears to have rankled in his mind. The
additional clause was negatived, and the manifesto remained in the same
state as when it came from Mr. Kelly's hands.[39]

There were, indeed, times when Lord George endeavoured to retrieve
mistakes of which he was conscious, and upon some occasions he subdued
his lofty temper so far as to be "very obsequious and respectful, but
had not temper to go through with it." "He now and then broke into such
violent sallies as the Prince could not digest, though the situation of
his affairs forced him to bear with them.[40] The Secretary's station
and favour had attached to him such as were confident of success, and
had nothing in view but making their fortunes. Nevertheless, Lord George
had greater weight and influence in the Council, and generally brought
the majority over to his opinion; which so irritated the ambitious
Secretary, that he endeavoured to give the Prince a bad impression of
the Council itself, and engaged to lay it entirely aside."

It was not only in regard to Lord George Murray that the influence of
the Secretary was prejudicial to the Prince's interests; neither was
Lord George the only person whom he dreaded as a rival. Having access to
the most intimate communication with Charles Edward, he abused the youth
and inexperience of the ill-fated man to inspire him with a distrust of
many gentlemen of good family and of integrity, whose fidelity he
contrived to whisper away. All employments were filled up at the
Secretary's nomination; and he contrived to bestow them upon his own
creatures, who would never thwart his measures. Hence it followed that
places of trust were bestowed on "insignificant little fellows," while
there were abundance of gentlemen of merit who might have been of great
use, had they met with the confidence of their Prince. "Those that
Murray had thus placed," continues Mr. Maxwell, "seconded his dirty
little views; and it was their interest, too, to keep their betters at a
distance from the Prince's person and acquaintance."

Until a very short time before Charles Edward left Perth, he appears to
have felt the most unqualified admiration for the Highland character,
which he had carefully studied.[41] He thus expressed himself to his
father: "I have occasion every day to reflect on your Majesty's last
words to me,--that I should find power, if tempered with justice and
clemency, an easy thing to myself, and not grievous to those under me.
'Tis owing to the observance of this rule, and to my conformity to the
customs of these people, that I have got their hearts, to a degree not
easy to be conceived by those who do not see it. One who observes the
discipline which I have established, would take my little army to be a
body of picked veterans; and, to see the love and harmony that reigns
amongst us, he would be apt to look upon it as a large well-ordered
family, in which every one loves another better than himself."

He even applauded the rude climate of Scotland. "I keep my health better
in these wild mountains than I used to do in the Campagna Felice; and
sleep sounder, lying on the ground, than I used to do in the palaces at
Rome."

In this happy temper the Prince set out on his march from Perth to
Edinburgh. The march was made in the most perfect good order, and the
strictest discipline prevented any depredations. As the insurgent army
passed by Stirling, the standard of the Chevalier was saluted by some
shot from the castle. Nevertheless, Lord George Murray sent into the
town, and the gates were opened; and bread, cheese, and butter sent out
to sell, near to Bannockburn, where the army halted. On the seventeenth
of September the city of Edinburgh was taken.

In the description of the courtly scenes of Holyrood, it does not appear
that Lord George Murray took any conspicuous part. His sphere was the
council-room, or the camp, or the battle-field; and of his proceedings
in these different occupations he has left a very particular account,
written with the same manly spirit and fearless tone which he displayed
in ordinary life.

When the Prince's Council had received accounts of Sir John Cope's
landing at Dunbar, they left Edinburgh and lay upon their arms at
Duddingstone, and on the twentieth marched to meet the enemy. Lord
George commanded the van, and, whilst passing the south side of Pinkie
Gardens, he heard that Cope was at or near Preston, and that he would
probably gain the high ground at Fawside. There was no time to
deliberate or to wait for orders. Well acquainted with the ground, Lord
George struck off through the fields, without keeping to any road. He
went without being even preceded by the usual escort to choose the
ground where to halt. In less than half an hour, by marching quickly, he
gained the eminence; he slackened his pace and waited for the rear,
still proceeding slowly towards Tranent, always fronting the enemy.
General Cope's army was drawn up on the plain between Preston Grange
and Tranent, with deep broad ditches between them. After much
reconnoitring and some firing, on the part of the enemy, from these
ditches, at the Highlanders, who they thought had never seen cannon, and
would therefore be intimidated, the English army was drawn up on the
east side of the village of Tranent, where, on a dry stubble-field, with
a small rising in front to shelter them, they lay down to repose in rank
and file.

"It was now night," writes Lord George Murray;[42] "and when all the
principal officers were called together, I proposed the attacking the
enemy at break of day. I assured them that it was not only practicable,
but that it would, in all probability, be attended with success. I told
them I knew the ground myself, and had a gentleman or two with me who
knew every part thereabouts: there was indeed a small defile at the east
end of the ditches, but, once that was past, there would be no stop; and
though we should be long on our march, yet, when the whole line was past
the defile, they had nothing to do but to face to the left, and in a
moment the whole was formed, and then to attack. The Prince was highly
pleased with the proposal, as indeed the whole officers were; so, after
placing a few pickets, everybody lay down at their posts; and supped
upon what they had with them. At midnight the principal officers were
called again, and all was ordered as was at first proposed. Word was
sent to the Atholl brigade to come off their post at two in the morning,
and not to make the least noise."

Before four in the morning the army began to march, and an arrangement
of the first line, which had been previously agreed upon, was now put
into execution. Those who had had the right the day before, were to have
the rear and the left; and this alteration was made without the least
noise or confusion. The Duke of Perth therefore went into the front,
Lord George giving up his guides to him. No horse marched at that time,
for fear of being discovered. When the army had advanced within a
hundred paces of the ditches, they marched on to the attack, Lord George
calling on Cameron of Lochiel to incline to the left. As the enemy
discovered their approach, the noise of the cannon announced that the
engagement had begun. Notwithstanding that Lord George Murray's regiment
was the last to pass the defile towards the enemy, it was the first to
fire. "Our whole first line," writes the gallant soldier, "broke through
the enemy. Some of them were rallying behind us; but when they saw our
second line coming up, they then made the best of their way."

Lord George pursued the enemy to the walls of Bankton House, the
residence of Colonel Gardiner; and here a party of the enemy got over
the ditch, and fired at the Highland foe. This little company, brave as
it was, was composed of only fourteen men, headed by a Lieutenant-Colonel.
"I got before a hundred of our men," writes Lord George, "who had their
guns presented to fire upon them, and at my desire they kept up their
fire, so that those officers and soldiers surrendered themselves
prisoners; and nothing gave me more pleasure that day than having it in
my power to save those men, as well as several others." This declaration
was perhaps necessary, to rescue the memory of Lord George from the
opprobrium of cruelty; since it has been asserted, that at the battle of
Culloden he issued orders to give no quarter, and that such a document
to that effect, in the handwriting of Lord George, was in the possession
of the Duke of Cumberland.[43] This stigma on the fame of Lord George
Murray may have originated from the desperate character of that last
effort: his haughty temper may have been exasperated in the course of
the fatal contest. It is a charge which can now only be repelled by the
previous character of the individual against whom it is made, since it
was never fairly made out, nor satisfactorily contradicted.

After the action was partially over, Lord George Murray perceived that a
number of people were gathered together on the height near to Tranent.
Mistaking them for the enemy, the General marched with his regiment,
accompanied by Lochiel, who had kept his men together in good order,
back to the narrow causeway that led up to Tranent. Here he found that
the supposed enemy were only country-people and servants. From them,
however, he learned that the enemy were at Cokenny, only a mile and a
half distant; and he instantly determined on pursuing them. His energy
and valour in thus doing so, after the events of that harassing and
exhausting day, cannot but be admired. He found on arriving at Cokenny,
a force of about three hundred Highlanders, a volunteer company recently
embodied at Inverness by President Forbes. These soon surrendered;
between sixteen and seventeen hundred prisoners were taken that day,
among whom were seventy officers.[44] "His Royal Highness," adds Lord
George Murray in giving this his personal narrative, "took the same care
of their wounded as of his own. I do not mention the behaviour of all
our officers and men that day; their actions shewed it. I only take
notice of those two that were immediately under my eye, which was
Lochiel's regiment and the Stewarts of Appin." As the enemy's
foot-soldiers had made little or no resistance during the battle of
Preston-Pans, they might have been all cut to pieces had it not been for
the interposition of Prince Charles and his officers, who gained that
day as much honour by their humanity as by their bravery. The Prince,
when the rout began, mounted his horse, galloped all over the field, and
his voice was heard amid that scene of horror, calling on his men to
spare the lives of his enemies, "whom he no longer looked upon as such."
Far from being elated with the victory, which was considered as
complete, the care of the kind-hearted and calumniated young man was
directed to assist the wounded. Owing to his exertions, eighty-three of
the officers were saved, besides hundreds of soldiers. "The Prince,"
writes Mr. Maxwell, "had a livelier sense of other people's misfortunes
than of his own good-fortune."

This spirit of humanity was extended to the two Lieutenants-General. The
conduct of the Duke of Perth was ever consistent with his mild
character. On that occasion, at all events, Lord George participated in
the noble clemency which usually characterized the Jacobites.

"In the evening," he writes,[45] "I went with the officer prisoners to a
house in Musselburgh that was allotted for them. Those who were worst
wounded were left at Colonel Gardiner's house, where surgeons attended
them; the others walked, as I did, along with them without a guard (as
they had given me their parole); and to some, who were not able to walk,
I gave my own horses. It was a new-finished house that was got for them,
where there was neither table, bed, chair, nor chimney grate. I caused
buy some new-thrashed straw, and had by good-fortune as much cold
provisions and liquor of my own as made a tolerable meal to them all;
and when I was going to retire, they entreated me not to leave them;
for, as they had no guard, they were afraid that some of the
Highlanders, who had got liquor, might come in upon them and insult or
plunder them."

Beside these suffering men Lord George lay on a floor all night, having
given up the minister's house in Musselburgh, which had been destined as
his quarters, to those who were valetudinary. On the following day those
officers who were tolerably well were removed to Pinkie House, where
Prince Charles was staying. Lord George then returned to the field of
battle, to give directions about the cannon, and to see about the other
wounded prisoners. He afterwards repaired to Pinkie House, the gardens
of which were thronged that night with the prisoners, privates, to whom
provisions were sent; "and the night before," as Lord George relates, "I
got some of their own provisions carried from Cokenny to Colonel
Gardiner's courts and gardens for their use. In these things I ever
laid it down as a maxim, to do by others as I would wish they would do
by me, had I been in their place, and they in mine." Such is the spirit
in which the unfortunate were regarded by the victors of that day; and
these two accounts, that of Lord George Murray and that of Maxwell of
Kirkconnel, written without any mutual compact, and at different times,
and even in different countries, disprove the following gross and
improbable statement of Henderson's of that which occurred after the day
at Preston was fought and won.

According to his account, professedly that of an eye-witness, the
conduct of the young Chevalier (who, he acknowledges, had, by the advice
of the Duke of Perth, sent to Edinburgh for surgeons,) was, in the
highest degree, unfeeling and indecent. He stood by the road-side, his
horse near him, "with his armour of tin, which resembled a woman's
stays, affixed to the saddle; he was on foot, clad as an ordinary
captain, in a coarse plaid, and large blue bonnet, a scarlet waistcoat
with a narrow plain lace about it; his boots and knees were much dirtied
(the effect of his having fallen into a ditch, as I afterwards
understood); he was exceeding merry, and twice said, 'My Highlanders
have lost their plaids,' at which he laughed very heartily, being in no
way affected when speaking of the dead or wounded. Nor would his jollity
have been interrupted, if he had not looked upon seven standards that
had been taken from the dragoons; on which he said, in French, (a
language he frequently spoke in,) 'We have missed some of them.' After
this, he refreshed himself upon the field, and, with the utmost
composure, ate a piece of cold beef and drank a glass of wine, amidst
the deep and piercing groans of the poor men who had fallen victims to
his ambition."[46]

After this flippant and hard-hearted conduct, as it is described, the
Prince is said to have ridden off to Pinkie House, leaving the bulk of
the wounded on the field that day, to be brought in carts to Edinburgh.
"Few," he says, "recovered; and those who did, went begging through the
streets, their heads tied about with bandages, but obtaining no relief
from their conquerors. The property of the prisoners, the fine linen of
the officers, their gold and silver hilted swords, their watches and
rings, were worn by the lowest among the soldiery almost before their
eyes."[47]

The battle of Preston, which was magnified by Lord Lovat as a "glorious
victory not to be paralleled in history," although not meriting such
extravagant remarks, produced the most important consequences to the
Jacobite cause. Among not the least important was the acquisition of all
the arms of the whole body of foot, and even of the volunteers. These
went to supply the recruits whom the Marquis of Tullibardine and others
were sending daily to the camp. No enemy was left in the field to oppose
the progress of Charles Edward's victorious troops.[48] When, having, as
the Chevalier Johnstone asserts, escaped from the field of battle by
placing a white cockade on his head, Cope arrived at Coldstream with
his troops in great disorder, he was greeted by Lord Mark Ker, one of a
family who had long had hereditary claims to wit as well as courage,
with the bitter remark, that "he believed he was the first general in
Europe that had brought tidings of his own defeat."

"The Prince," writes Maxwell of Kirkconnel, "was now, properly speaking,
master of Scotland." The militia, which had been raised in some parts of
Scotland for the service of Government, was dismissed; and the
Chevalier's orders were obeyed in many places far from his army. These
advantages were, however, rather glaring than solid and permanent.

After the battle of Preston, it became a serious and important question
what step was to be taken. It was the Prince's earnest desire to push
the advantages thus gained by an immediate invasion of England, before
the Hanoverians had time to recover from their surprise. But this
spirited and, as the event proved, sagacious opinion was objected to on
the score of the smallness of the forces, and the probability of an
accession of strength before marching southwards. Lastly, the fatal hope
of aid from France, that _ignis fatuus_ which had misled the Jacobite
party before, and on which it was their misfortune to depend, was
adduced as an argument. The Prince yielded to his counsellors, and
consented to remain some time in Edinburgh. Upon this decision Lord
George Murray offers no opinion.

The castle of Edinburgh remained still unsubdued; and the Prince, upon
his return to that city, resolved on blockading the fortress. This was a
very unpopular step, but Charles had no alternative; since it was of
vital importance to reduce a place of so great strength and consequence.
Accordingly a proclamation was issued, forbidding, under pain of death,
that any provisions should be sent up to the castle; and the management
of this blockade was entrusted to Lord George Murray.[49]

This able General now proposed to place guards in such a manner as
should prevent the garrison in the castle marching out to surprise him,
but his exertions were baffled by the want of judgment and incompetency
of those beneath him in command. The guard was placed near the
weigh-house at the foot of the Castle-rock, so that the battery of the
half-moon, as it was termed, near the Castle-gate, bore upon it, and
many of the guard within would have perished upon the first firing. This
was not the only mistake. Mr. O'Sullivan, one of Prince Charles's
officers, one day placed a small guard near the West Kirk, which was not
only exposed to the enemy's fire, but conveniently situated near the
sally-port, whence the besieged might issue and take the party there
prisoners; for no relief could be sent to them in less than two hours'
time, owing to its being necessary to pass round the whole circumference
of the castle to arrive at that point. "I never," says Lord George
Murray, "knew of that guard's being placed there, until they were taken
prisoners." So severe a service was this blockade, that it was found
necessary to relieve the guards, which were thus placed, by different
corps who could not know the risk which they encountered. Desertions
from the Jacobite army were among the most formidable evils with which
Lord George had to contend. It was therefore important not to discourage
the soldiery. In the midst of difficulty the high-minded Cameron of
Lochiel came forward to offer his own person, and to risk his own
regiment in this service. He agreed to take all the guards, and to
relieve them with the soldiers of his own regiment, who were quartered
for that purpose in the outer Parliament House. "I was with him," writes
Lord George,[50] "when the guards were relieved, and the men did their
duty exceedingly, especially when there was danger; and, when the fire
was hottest from the castle, they kept their post with much resolution
and bravery. Lochiel and I being much with them, gave them a heartiness
that hindered them from complaining of a duty which was so hard, and
which the rest of the army had not in their turns. We even placed new
guards to keep the castle from sallying, as they seemed disposed; and
Keppoch's regiment was brought into town to take some of the guards and
support them. I lay in town for some nights, and was constantly visiting
the guards and sentinels."

The castle, nevertheless, seated on the precipitous rocks, which, steep
as they are, have yet been "scaled by love and ambition,"[51] defied the
blockaders. The Highlanders continued to keep guard in the weigh-house,
and, stationing themselves in the Grass-market, the Smithfield as well
as the Hay-market of Edinburgh, lying on the south side of the
Castle-hill, awaited there the proceedings of the enemy.

On the twenty-ninth of September, a letter was sent to the Provost of
Edinburgh by General Guest, intimating, that, unless a communication
were kept up between the city and the castle, he should be under the
necessity of using cannon to dislodge the Highlanders. It was said that
Guest had an order from the Government, signed by the Marquis of
Tweedale, empowering him to lay the city in ashes if the citizens did
not remove the Highlanders from their quarters. A message was dispatched
from the Provost to General Guest obtaining a respite for that night;
but, meantime, the utmost consternation prevailed in the town. Twelve
o'clock at night was the hour fixed upon for the execution of this
threat of the enemy; and, although many who reasoned did not believe in
the existence of the order, the lower classes were seized with a panic,
and the streets were crowded with women and children running towards the
gates, and with people removing their property to more secure quarters.
When the clocks struck twelve, the hour fixed in General Guest's
message, the noise of the cannon was heard firing upon the principal
streets; but the Highlanders were all under shelter, and only a few poor
inhabitants were injured. Nothing was heard except imprecations on that
Government which had issued so cruel an order, since it was quite out of
the power of the citizens to dislodge the Highlanders from their
quarters. But the firing was soon intermitted; and whether the garrison
had private orders only to threaten, or whether they found it
impossible to execute so barbarous an order, is unknown. They spared the
city generally, and only directed their fire to any place where they
fancied that they saw a Highlander.

On the following morning a deputation of citizens waited on the
Chevalier, and showed him General Guest's letter. He immediately
replied, that he was surprised and concerned at the barbarity of the
order, but that if, out of compassion for the city, he were to remove
his guards, the castle might with equal reason summon him to quit the
town, and abandon all the advantages of which he was possessed. A
respite of a day was afterwards obtained; and subsequently for six days,
in case the Highlanders would abstain from firing at the castle; and a
dispatch to London was sent to obtain a mitigation of the order in
council.

Meantime, on the first of October, the Highlanders fired; whether at
some people who were carrying provisions to the castle, or at the castle
itself, is uncertain. Reprisals were instantly made by a heavy
cannonading and small shot. The firing continued for some days, bringing
terror to the hearts of those who lived remote from the scene of danger;
whilst the aged and infirm were carried out of that noble city, thus
threatened with destruction. Sir Walter Scott observes, that the
generation of his own time alone can remember Edinburgh in peace,
undisturbed by civil commotion. The fathers of that generation
remembered the days of 1745--_their_ fathers the disturbances of 1715.
The fathers of those who had witnessed the rebellion of 1715 could
remember the revolution of 1688.

The merciful temper of the young Chevalier saved the city of Edinburgh.
At first he resolved to continue the blockade; and he renewed his former
orders, prohibiting any person from going to the castle without a pass
from his secretary, and threatening any one who was disobedient to this
proclamation with instant death. But, when he beheld the distress to
which the firing had already reduced the city,--then, let it be
remembered, comprised within boundaries of very moderate extent,--he
issued another proclamation, expressing his deep concern for the many
murders which were committed upon the innocent inhabitants of the city,
so contrary to the laws of war, to the truce granted to the city, and
even exceeding the powers given. His humanity had, therefore, yielded to
the barbarity of his enemy; the blockade of the castle was taken off,
and the threatened punishment suspended.[52]

The army of Charles Edward was now increasing daily; and, in consequence
of the reports which were circulated in the metropolis, a panic spread
there, of which no estimate can be made without consulting the
newspapers of that time. Among other writers who employed their talents
in inveighing against the cause of James Stuart, was the celebrated
Henry Fielding, whose papers in the _True Patriot_ upon the subject
present a curious insight into those transient states of public feeling,
which perished almost as soon as expressed. The rapidity of the progress
made by the insurgents is declared by his powerful pen to have been
unprecedented. "Can History," he writes, "produce an instance parallel
to this,--of six or seven men landing in a powerful nation, in
opposition to the inclination of the people, in defiance of a vast and
mighty army? (For, though the greater part of this army was not then in
the kingdom, it was so nearly within call, that every man of them might,
within the compass of a few days, or weeks at farthest, have been
brought home and landed in any part of it.) If we consider, I say, this
handful of men landing in the most desolate corner, among a set of poor,
naked, hungry, disarmed slaves, abiding there with impunity till they
had, as it were, in the face of a large body of his Majesty's troops
collected a kind of army, or rather rabble, together, it will be
extremely difficult to assign any adequate cause whatsoever, for this
unexampled success, without recurring to one, of whose great efficacy we
have frequent instances in sacred history: I mean, the just judgment of
God against an offending people." The state of public morals, Fielding
considers, to have drawn down upon society this signal visitation of
Providence. "Indeed, such monstrous impieties and iniquities have I both
seen and heard of, within these last three years, during my sojourning
in what is called the world, particularly the last winter, while I
tarried in the great city, that, while I verily believe we are the
silliest people under Heaven in every other light, we are wiser than
Sodom in wickedness."[53] The consternation of the sister kingdom had
now, indeed, become general; on the slightest report of foreign ships
being seen in the Downs, the dismay of the London citizens was extreme:
and such was the liberality, or such were the fears of the inhabitants
of the county of York, the capital of which may almost have been deemed,
in those days, a northern metropolis, that forty thousand pounds were
subscribed for its defence, after a grave and mournful address of the
archbishop of that diocese.[54]

When the Prince had determined to take off the blockade, and indeed had
actually resolved to evacuate Edinburgh and to march southwards, he sent
orders to Lord George Murray to nail the cannon upon the city walls, and
to retire to Musselburgh and Dalkeith. But the sagacious Lord George,
apprehending no further cannonading from the castle, begged permission
not to make a precipitate retreat, and obtained leave to continue three
weeks longer in Edinburgh, during which time the town remained in a much
quieter state than it had been heretofore.

Whilst Lord George Murray was quartered in Edinburgh, he communicated
frequently with his wife, the Lady Emilia, who remained with her
children at Tullibardine. That lady seems to have taken a deep interest
in the events which so deeply concerned her family. She was the first to
communicate to the Marquis of Tullibardine the intelligence of the
victory of Preston-Pans. "I pray God," she says in her postscript, "to
prosper his Royal Highness's arms, and congratulate your Grace upon his
happy success." A gentleman, who had seen her husband after the battle,
had brought to the anxious wife the tidings of his success.

Towards the end of October the Prince resolved to march into England,
without waiting any longer for the landing of French auxiliaries, or
even for the arrival of the friendly Clans of Frasers and Mackintoshes,
who were ready to march from the north to join Charles Edward. By some
of the Chevalier's advisers he was recommended to go to Berwick; but
this was a scheme counteracted by the counsels of Lord George Murray,
who, in the presence of the principal officers, represented it as "a
thing at least of great difficulty, and of not so great use as to lose
time, which is precious." Lord George therefore proposed marching into
England by the other road; but, to conceal their design, he advised that
the army should be divided into three columns; one to go by Kelso, the
second by Moffat, and a third by Galashiels, Selkirk, and Hawick; so
that all the columns should join on an appointed day near Carlisle. The
plan was approved; and, the secret being very well kept, on the
thirty-first of October the army prepared to march.[55] It is
remarkable, that, during the whole period of their stay in Edinburgh, no
general review of the Jacobite forces had taken place. The consequent
uncertainty of what was really the amount of those forces, which existed
in England, fostered the general panic. "Abundance of people," writes
Mr. Maxwell, "friends as well as enemies, had made it their business to
find out the number of the Prince's army, but to no purpose. Great pains
had been taken to conceal its weakness."[56]

In order to conceal the design upon England, a scheme was formed,
allowing three days to elapse between the marching of the two great
divisions of the army; and accordingly the Prince, attended by Lord
George Murray, took up his abode at the palace of Dalkeith, and here he
remained until the third of November. In this princely abode the young
representative of the Stuart line may have remembered the adverse
fortunes of Queen Mary, and the bold character of the Regent Morton, to
whom the castle of Dalkeith belonged, when it had acquired from the
character of its owner the name of the "Lion's Den." After the death of
Morton, the barony of Dalkeith was included in the attainder; and the
castle had been considered, during many years, as public property, and
was inhabited by General Monk during the usurpation of Cromwell.

But, long before Charles Edward made it his temporary residence,
Dalkeith had been repaired and beautified by Anne Duchess of Buccleugh
and Monmouth, the widow of the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth. It was, as
it is now, an appropriate residence for royalty. The more ancient part
of the building has, it is true, lost its castellated appearance; but
the beautiful site on the steep banks of the Eske, and the thickness of
the walls, are still proofs of former strength and great importance, to
which the contiguity of Dalkeith to Edinburgh conduce; whilst the
junction of the north and south Esk in the park add to the beauties of
this noble demesne.

The Chevalier Johnstone was still aide-de-camp to Lord George Murray,
and remained to accompany the General on his march. Among those with
whom the exertions of Lord George were frequently united was Mr.
O'Sullivan, an Irish officer, and the object of Charles Edward's
partiality and confidence, and he was a man of considerable abilities.
Having received his education in a Romish college abroad, O'Sullivan had
originally entered into priest's orders. It was his lot to be
recommended as a tutor to the son of Marshal Maillebois, who, perceiving
in the young ecclesiastic proofs of a genius better adapted to the use
of the sword than to the gravity of the gown, encouraged him to apply
himself to the profession of arms. There were not wanting in those days
opportunities of cultivating a military turn, and Corsica was the scene
of Mr. O'Sullivan's first exploits. Here he acted as secretary to
Marshal Villebois; an office of no slight responsibility, for the
Marshal was tainted with the prevalent vice of the day, and scarcely
ever left the dinner-table in a state fit for public business.
O'Sullivan, therefore, in the course of those oppressions which the
French inflicted on the inhabitants of Corsica, acquired not only great
experience in business, but also in military affairs; as well as
knowledge in what is termed the art of making irregular war. To this
acquirement he afterwards added another; for, having served a campaign
on the Rhine, it was said by a French General, under whom he fought,
that his knowledge of the regular art of war was equal to that of any
General in Europe. To his abilities were attributed much of the rapid
success of those whom it was the fashion of the newspapers of the day to
describe as "a handful of savages," but whom the loungers about the
English court soon learned to dread.[57]

It is now necessary, before entering into details of fresh operations,
to review the proceedings of Lord George Murray during the last few
weeks, and to give some notion how he exercised the functions of his
generalship. His chief sources of annoyance, besides the intrigues in
the Prince's council, were the deserters from the Jacobite army. Before
leaving Edinburgh, Lord George Murray had despatched a number of
prisoners to Logierait; and the following letter shows how rigid were
the instructions which he peremptorily sent to his brother, the Marquis
of Tullibardine, at Perth. The correspondence of Lord George Murray
proves him to have been a man of a stern, hard nature; and effaces much
of the impression produced by his united valour and clemency in the
field of battle.

    "Dear Brother,

    "Things vary so much from time to time that I can say nothing
    certain as yet, but refer you to the enclosed letter; but depend
    upon having nothing express from me with you before Monday night.
    But, in the mean time, you must resolve to be ready to march on
    Tuesday morning, by Keinacan and Tay Bridge, so as to be at Crieff
    on Wednesday; and even that way, if you do your best, you will be
    half a march behind: but you will be able to make up that on
    Thursday, when I reckon we may meet at Dunblane or Doun: but of this
    more fully in my next. It is believed for certain that Cope will
    embark at Aberdeen.

    "I hope the meal was with you before this--thirty-five bolls--for
    it was at Inuar last night. It shall be my study to have more meal
    with you on Monday night, for you must distribute a peck a man; and,
    cost what it will, there must be pocks to each man, to contain a
    peck or two for the men to have always with them. Buy linen, yarn,
    or anything; for these pocks are of absolute necessity--nothing can
    be done without them. His Royal Highness desires you to acquaint
    Glenmoriston and Glencoe, if they come your way, of this intended
    march, so that they may go by Tay Bridge (if you please, with you);
    and what meal you can spare, let them have. You may please tell your
    own people that there is a project to get arms for them.

                                                  "Yours, adieu!
                                                    "GEORGE MURRAY."

    "Saturday, nine at night."

"For God's sake!" he adds in another part of his letter, "cause some
effectual measures to be taken about the deserters: I would have their
houses and crops destroyed, for an example to others, and themselves
punished in a most rigorous manner."

Another source of anxiety was connected with the prisoners of war. It
was difficult to know how to dispose of them. The island in the Loch of
Clunie, not far from Dunkeld, was afterwards considered by the Marquis
as the most suitable place for the reception of the prisoners; and was
conceded by Lady Ogilvy, the daughter of Lord Airlie, for that purpose,
in her father's absence. In a letter addressed by Tullibardine to the
Earl of Airlie, to whom the Loch of Clunie belonged, a spirit of
kindness and consideration is shown, very different to the stern
mandates of Lord George Murray. "I presume," writes the Marquis, "your
Lor'ship will not only cheerfully make everything be carefully prepared
for their reception, but also contribute what's possible to prevent any
dangerous mutiny or escape among them." Although describing these
prisoners as a "troublesome and dangerous set of people," he recommends
no harsh measures, except precautionary vigilance.[58] Beef, mutton, and
meal were provided and paid for by the Marquis, who, ultimately, was
obliged to quarter a considerable number of the prisoners in barns and
other outhouses near Logierait. This charge appears to have been very
unwelcome to the good old Tullibardine, who talks to his sister in law,
Lady Emilia Murray, of "ane unworthy pack of prisoners that is sent
us."[59]

Meantime, the want of money for the supply of the garrison at Perth was
another source of uneasiness to Lord George Murray. Many
disappointments, on this score, occurred. "I told you," Lord George
writes to his brother, "that some gentlemen had promised to his Royal
Highness some money in loan, more besides what they already gave; but it
is to their ladies you will please to write, as they appear to do the
thing, and not the husbands."[60] "I have been as pressing," he says in
another letter to the Marquis, "about money to be sent to you, both
formerly and now, as if my life depended upon it. There is three hundred
pounds sent at present, mostly in specie. You are desired to write to
people in the country to advance money, particularly to Lady Methven;
which if they do not immediately, their corn and other effects will be
seized."[61]

Previously to his march southwards, Prince Charles appointed Viscount
Strathallan Governor, and Deputy Governor of Perth, and
Commander-in-chief during the absence of the Marquis of Tullibardine,
whom Lord George Murray now summoned to join him, considering that the
addition of the Marquis's tenantry to the army was of the utmost
importance. "I am extremely anxious," he writes, "to have our men here,
at least as many as would make Lord Nairn's battalion, and mine, five
hundred each; for at present I could get them supply'd with guns,
targets, tents, and, those who want them, shoes also: but if they be not
here soon, them that come first, will be first serv'd."

These directions were reiterated, and were also repeated by the pen of
Lady Emilia Murray, to whom her lord sent immediate accounts of all that
occurred. This spirited and indefatigable help-meet resided generally at
Tullibardine. "These," she writes, "were his words, 'I entreat, for
God's sake, that the Duke of Atholl send off the men here immediately,
or they will be too late for arms, targets, tents, &c.; nay, for our
march, which begins on Thursday." All this haste and impetuosity was
meekly but decidedly resisted by the slow Marquis of Tullibardine. He
thus writes in reply to one of his brother's most urgent entreaties:

"About ten o'clock in the afternoon I received your express, dated the
fourth, four o'clock, afternoon, and am very much concerned to find that
it is morally impossible for me, or any of the men in these parts, to be
up with you against Thursday night, the day you say it is resolved, in a
Council of War, to march southward. Did any of us endeavour to make too
much haste to join the Prince, I am afraid we should be like a good milk
cow, that gives a great pail of milk, and after, kicks it down with her
foot. Forgive the comparison."[62]

Other apprehensions also increased the desire of Lord George to begin
his march. "I am desired to let you know," he writes to the Marquis of
Tullibardine, "that there is one Kimber, an anabaptist, who came from
London with a design to assassinate the Prince; he is about twenty-seven
years old, black hair, of a middling stature, and talks fluently and
bluntly about his travels in the West Indies." This man, it was
suspected, afterwards changed his name to Geffreys. He was supposed to
have even been received by the Marquis of Tullibardine at his table, and
to have obtained a pass from him; but nothing more was disclosed, as far
as the correspondence informs us, touching this attempt.

Lord George continued in a fever of vexation and anxiety at the delay of
his brother, upon whose arrival at the camp, the march to England was to
begin. Public affairs in England favoured, as he justly thought, the
most decisive measures. "Everything," he writes to his brother, "is in
great confusion in England, particularly in London, where credite is at
a stand. The greatest banquiers have stopt payment; all would go to our
wish, if we could but march instantly. If you delay longer," Lord George
adds, "it will be the utter ruine of the cause. You should wait for
nobody but your own men." The arrival of supplies from France, of arms
and ammunition, though they were represented as being very inferior in
quantity to what had been expected, gave encouragement to the hopes of
the sanguine; and re-assured in some degree, even the anxious mind of
Lord George Murray.

Before finally quitting Perth, the Marquis of Tullibardine received a
compliment from the gentlemen prisoners of war there, which proved how
soldierlike and courteous his conduct towards them had been. They
inquired whether he would have morning levees, since they wished "to
wait upon him." To this the Marquis replied, with his thanks, that,
although not fond of ceremonious visits, he would always be "glad to
cultivate an acquaintance with gentlemen whose actions show they are
true Britons, by standing up for and supporting the ancient constitution
and liberties of well-born subjects, whose honour is engaged to shake
off the slavery of a foreign yoke."[63]

Notwithstanding all the remonstrances of Lord George, who had reiterated
his entreaties during the whole of the month of October, the winter was
far advanced before the Marquis left his castle of Blair to proceed
southwards.[64]

On the thirty-first of October, a considerable force took the road to
Duddingstone, a small village at the foot of Arthur's Seat; presenting,
before the Highland army poured in upon its serene precincts, a scene of
repose and quiet beauty, finely contrasted with the clamour of the city,
and the grandeur of the rugged hill.

Foremost rode Lord Elcho, commanding the first troop of horse-guards,
consisting of sixty-two gentlemen, and their servants, under five
officers, forming altogether a troop of a hundred and twenty horse. A
smaller troop, not amounting to more than forty horse, followed under
the command of Arthur Elphinstone, afterwards Lord Balmerino. Then came
a little squadron of horse grenadiers, with whom were incorporated the
Perthshire gentlemen, in the absence of their own commander, Lord
Strathallan, who was left Governor of Perth. The whole of this squadron
did not amount to a hundred. It was commanded by William Earl of
Kilmarnock, the representative of an ancient and noble family, which, as
an historian remarks, "sometimes matched with the blood-royal." "He
was," adds the same writer, "in the flower of his age, being about forty
years old. The elegance of his person, and comeliness of his features,
which were every way handsome, bespake internal beauties."[65] It is
remarkable, that, at this very time, the young Lord Boyd, Lord
Kilmarnock's son, held a commission in the British army and fought
against the Jacobites.

The Aberdeen and Bamffshire gentlemen, amounting with their servants to
a hundred and twenty, with seventy or eighty hussars, were commanded by
Lord Pitsligo; but Mr. Murray, "who would have a share at least of
everything," was their colonel.[66]

The infantry consisted of thirteen little battalions, for the
Highlanders would not be commanded by any but their own chiefs; and it
was necessary therefore to have as many regiments as there were Clans.

On the third of November, the Prince marched from Dalkeith on foot, at
the head of the Clans, who were commanded under him by Lord George
Murray. The acclamations of the people of Edinburgh, who flocked in
crowds to witness the departure of the army, were loud and friendly. Yet
it is remarkable, that in spite of his long residence in that city, in
spite of his hereditary claims on its inhabitants, and of the popularity
of his manners, the party of the Prince in that capital never increased
in proportion to his expectations. This indifference to the cause of
Charles Edward has with much reason been attributed to the strong and
unalterable distrust entertained by all zealous Presbyterians of any
approach to Popery: the firmness of the Scottish character to a
principle may be plainly read in the reluctance of the Lowlanders to
hazard, even for a Stuart, the safety of what they esteem to be their
vital interests.[67]

It was, however, a fine, although a mournful sight, when the Clans
taking the road to London left Dalkeith. It was indeed only after long
and anxious deliberation, that these brave men had resolved to risk an
advance to England, without any certain expectation of a rising in that
country; yet there were many among the chiefs who went forth that day,
and among these were some of the bravest and the most determined who
"trusted in themselves alone."[68] Among those who were declared
secretly to have desponded of success, and yet to have gone on in the
career from a sense of honour, was Lord George Murray.

The march to England was very judiciously planned and well executed. "It
resembled," observes the Chevalier Johnstone, "on a small scale, that of
Marshal Saxe some years before, when he advanced to lay siege to
Maestricht." The Prince went day after day on foot, contrary to general
expectation; for it was thought that he would only have done so at the
beginning to encourage the soldiers: but in dirty lanes, and in deep
snow, the youth reared in seclusion and luxury took his chance with the
common men, and could scarcely ever be prevailed upon even to get on
horseback to ford a river. "It's not to be imagined," writes his
affectionate partisan and historian Maxwell, "how much this manner of
bringing himself down to a level with the men, and his affable behaviour
to the meanest of them, endeared him to the army."[69] On arriving at
Lauder, hearing that some of the Highlanders had remained behind with a
view, it was thought, of deserting, Charles got on horseback before it
was light, rode back two or three miles, and brought the stragglers with
him.[70] On the fourth instant he reached Kelso. Such was the success of
this well-contrived march, and such the secrecy with which it was made,
that Marshal Wade, who was at Newcastle with eleven thousand men,
continued to cover and protect that place, without an idea of advancing
to intercept the Highland troops. Indeed, the secret was so well kept,
that hardly any subordinate officer in the Prince's service knew where
the junction of the columns was intended to take place.[71]

Arduous as the Prince's march had been to Kelso, it was enlivened by
some incidents in which the stern and haughty Lord George Murray must
have participated, as well as the gallant young Chevalier. On passing
through Preston Hall gate, the first morning of his march, the Prince
found breakfast there prepared for him by order of the Duchess of
Gordon, for which act that lady was deprived of a yearly pension of one
thousand pounds, given to her in consideration of her Grace's having
educated her family in the Protestant religion.[72] As he passed Fala
Danes, the ladies of Whitborough, who were the sisters of a zealous
adherent of the Prince, Robert Anderson, entertained Charles and his
chief officers with a collation in the open air. The royal guest, being
asked to leave some memorial of his visit, cut from the hilt of his
sword a piece of crimson velvet, which is still preserved at
Whitborough. At Lauder, Charles took up his abode in Hurlestane castle,
the seat of the Earl of Lauderdale. From Kelso, Charles dispatched the
guards across the Tweed; not so much to reconnoitre, as to amuse the
enemy: they went some miles into the country, and, when they came to any
English villages, made inquiries as to what reception and accommodation
the army might meet with on arriving there. The object of this
manoeuvre was to keep General Wade in suspense as to the movements of
the army, and to prevent his marching towards Carlisle. Such was the
success of these artifices, that Wade, who had decided on a march to
Berwick, countermanded that order. On the sixth of November the Jacobite
forces crossed the Tweed: that river was scarcely fordable; but the
Highlanders were elated beyond measure, and, even when bathed in the
water, expressed their delight by discharging their pieces and uttering
cries of joy. Such was their humour, that they gave the horses which
were taken from the enemy the name of General Cope, by way of expressing
their contempt for the fugitive Englishman.

Amid indications of homage, especially from the women of the town of
Jedburgh, who ran forth to kiss the young hero's hand, Charles entered
Jedburgh, and took up his residence at an inn in the centre of the town,
called the Nag's Head. On the following day he led his troops over the
Rule water, famous for the warriors of old who dwelt near its banks; and
over the Knot o' Gate into Liddiesdale, "noted in former times for its
predatory hands, as in more recent times for its primitive yeomen and
romantic minstrelsy."[73] After a march of twenty-five miles, the Prince
arrived at Haggiehaugh, upon Liddel water; here he slept, the
Highlanders finding their quarters for the night as well as they could
in barns, or byres, or houses, as their fortune might be. On the eighth
of November Charles Edward, proceeding down the Liddel water, met the
column of horse which had taken the middle road by Selkirk and Hawick.
They joined him at Gritmill Green upon the banks of the Esk, four miles
below Langholm. Shortly afterwards the first division of the Prince's
army crossed the river, which here separates the two kingdoms, as the
Tweed does at Berwick, and trod upon English ground. That event was
signalized by a loud shout, whilst the Highlanders unsheathed their
swords. But soon a general panic was spread among the soldiery, by the
intelligence that Cameron of Lochiel, in drawing his sword, had drawn
blood from his hand.[74] This was regarded as an omen of mournful
import. What was of much more vital consequence was the incessant
desertion of the troops, especially from the column which the Prince
commanded. Arms were afterwards found flung away in the fields, and the
roads to Lanarkshire and Stirlingshire were crowded with these
renegades. This circumstance Lord George Murray accounted for in these
terms, when, upon a subsequent occasion, he wrote to his brother,
complaining of the fact: "We are quite affronted with the scandalous
desertion of our men: it was the taking money instead of the best men,
which is the occasion of all the evil; for good men, once coming out,
would have been piqued in honour, and not deserted us on the point of
fighting the enemy."[75]

Such was the skill and secrecy with which the whole of this march had
been planned, chiefly by the suggestions of Lord George Murray, that the
forces were very much surprised on finding that all the three columns
arrived nearly at the same time, on a heath in England, about two miles
distant from the city of Carlisle. The plan was executed with such
precision, that there was not an interval of two hours between the
junction of the columns.[76]

It was now resolved to invest Carlisle. Few cities in England have been
the scenes of more momentous events than that which was now the object
of the Chevalier's efforts. Long the centre of border hostilities, it
was the fate of Carlisle to be at once the witness of the insurrection
of 1745, and the scene of punishment of those who were concerned in that
movement.

In modern times, the importance of Carlisle as a fortress has inevitably
declined; and it is at present regarded as a venerable relic of former
strength, rather than as a place of defence. But, in ancient days, the
Warden of the Marches, selected from among the nobles of tried fidelity
and courage, attracted to the castle of Carlisle a host of youthful
aspirants for military renown, who there sought to be trained to arms,
amid contests not depending upon a single achievement, but requiring
watchfulness, patient labour, and skill, slowly and painfully to be
acquired.

Founded by William Rufus, who restored the city after it had lain two
hundred years in ruins, owing to the depredations of the Danes; and
improved and enlarged successively by Richard the Third and Henry the
Eighth; the castle had received the unhappy Mary Stuart: and here she
was treated with an insidious respect which soon threw off the mask. In
the time of Queen Elizabeth, the citadel, which was entirely built by
Henry the Eighth, fell into decay; and after the prohibition of all
incursions on England on the part of King James the Sixth, Carlisle
ceased to be of so much importance as a military possession; and its
position, as one of the keys of England, did not avail to secure any
great attention to its dilapidated state. At the time of Charles
Edward's arrival in Cumberland, the fortifications of the City had been
neglected for several centuries; but it still bore the outward aspect of
former strength.

The works, which had thus been left to moulder away, were in the form of
a triangle, and were separated from the town by a deep ditch. Upon the
east angle, which is also cut off from the Parade by a ditch, is seated
the Castle, properly so called, though the whole generally goes by that
name. These works consist of a dungeon, the walls of which are twelve
feet in thickness; a tower, called the Captain's Tower; two gates, one
to each ward; there being an inward and an outward ward. In the castle
there is a great chamber, and a hall, but no storehouse for ammunition.
In the walls of the town, three gateway towers, a semi-circular bastion
called Springeld Tower, and the citadel, complete the fortifications:
unless we comprise several square towers with which the city walls are
furnished; especially one at the west sally-port, and the Tile Tower,
both of considerable strength.[77]

The foreground of the castle is formed of green and level meadows washed
by the river Eden; and, in modern days, two fine stone bridges add to
the beauty of the scene. The hanging banks are crowned with the village
and church of Stanwix, and the mountains of Bewcastle form the distance.
"To the south," to use the words of Hutchinson in his History of
Cumberland, "you command the plains towards Penrith, shut in on either
side with a vast range of mountains, over which Crossfell and Skiddaw
are distinctly seen greatly eminent. To the east a varied tract of
cultivated country, scattered over with villages and hamlets, mingle
beautifully with woodlands on the extensive landscape; the distant
horizon formed by the heights of Northumberland. To the west, the Solway
Frith sparkles out, a shining expanse of waters, flowing along a
cultivated tract of land on the English coast; on the other, the bold
heights of Weffel and a chain of mountains extend towards the sea."[78]

When Charles Edward spread out his forces before Carlisle, the garrison
within its mouldering walls was composed of a company of invalids, under
the command of Colonel Durand; but the Cumberland militia were almost
all collected within the city walls. Colonel Durand, however, as well as
the Mayor of the place, showed a spirit of defence; and the latter
issued a proclamation informing the inhabitants that he was not
Paterson, a Scotchman, but Pattieson, a true-born Englishman, who was
determined to hold out the city to the last. Since Charles had no
battering cannon, it appeared impossible to reduce the castle if it
were well-defended; but it was resolved to make the attempt. Whilst he
was meditating an attack, the news that Wade's army was marching from
Newcastle drew him for some days from continuing these operations. The
report proved, however, to be groundless; and the Duke of Perth was
sent, therefore, with several regiments to begin the siege.

The Jacobite army had all crossed the river Eden at Rowcliff, four miles
below Carlisle; and next day they marched to Harraby, Blackhall, and
Boutcherby, to the southward of Carlisle. At Harraby Lord George Murray
remained, in order to cover the siege; that place being most contiguous
to Carlisle, and on the highway to Penrith: the other troops under his
command lay in the adjoining villages. The Duke of Perth had the
direction of the trenches. It was here that an event occurred, which
shortly afterwards excited the greatest discontent among the followers
of Charles Edward.[79]

The attack upon the city was made from Stanwix Bank; the Marquis of
Tullibardine, who had at length joined the insurgent army, with his
tenantry, assisting the Duke of Perth. As it was market-day on the
ninth, when the Jacobites made their appearance within a quarter of a
mile of Carlisle, the Highland soldiers were mingled with the
market-people returning home, so that the garrison dared not fire upon
them. On the following day, the city was attacked in three places; but
the Marquis of Tullibardine, who commanded a four-gun battery, planted
at the entrance of a lane, was heard to say to his followers,
"Gentlemen, we have not metal for them; retreat." After three days'
attack, however, the courage of Mr. Pattieson, and the strength of the
garrison, gave way. The valiant Mayor forgot his English birth so far as
to hang out a white flag, and to request a capitulation for the town.
The garrison and townsmen of Carlisle, in the opinion of the writers of
the day, merited no more credit than that of Edinburgh, in their defence
and capitulation. In the siege, the Highland army had only one man
killed, and another wounded; and the reduction of Carlisle gave great,
but not lasting, lustre to their arms.

On entering Carlisle, Lord George Murray is said, in the newspapers of
the day, to have encountered an old friend, who asked him how he could
be so rash as to lend himself to the aid of a hopeless and futile
invasion. To this Lord George is declared to have replied, that he was
well aware that the cause was hopeless; but that, having once engaged to
maintain it, honour compelled him to continue his exertions.[80] It was
not, however, long before those fatal dissensions appeared which
effectually defeated all that valour or fidelity could effect to save
Charles Edward from defeat.

It was, perhaps, the well-earned popularity of the Duke of Perth, his
forbearance, and the gratitude evinced towards him by the inhabitants of
Carlisle, as he rode triumphantly through their city, that first roused
the jealousy of Lord George Murray's proud nature. The disinterested
conduct of the Duke of Perth, as soon as he became informed of the
sentiments entertained towards him by Lord George Murray, was worthy of
himself. That brave and excellent young man modestly withdrew from a
rivalry which, he justly concluded, must be injurious to the cause of
that Prince whose interests he had espoused; for few men could cope with
the natural abilities, the force of character, and the experience of
Lord George. He was by far the most able general that appeared in either
of the two insurrections in the cause of the Stuarts. "His personal
hardihood and bravery," remarks Lord Mahon, "might be rivalled by many
others; but none could vie with him in planning a campaign, providing
against disasters, or improving victory."

Whilst the Jacobite forces lay encamped near Carlisle, certain
differences of opinion arose in the Council. There were some who had
even thought that it would be desirable, before investing Carlisle, to
return to Scotland to collect a greater force. Lord George Murray,
seconded by the Duke of Perth, had opposed this cautious proposal; and
recommended that part of the army should stay at Brampton, and the rest
go to blockade Carlisle. The Duke of Perth had seconded this scheme, and
it had accordingly been decided that Lord George should command the
blockade, whilst the Duke conducted the battery. The result has been
seen; and the Prince was now master of Carlisle.

A few days after he had taken possession of the town, a council of war
was called, to consider what was next to be done. Some of the officers
proposed returning to Scotland; others were in favour of encamping near
Carlisle, and waiting to see whether there would be any rising in
England. Others advised marching forwards, by the west of England;
arguing, that having Carlisle, happen what might, they had a safe
retreat. Charles Edward declared himself to be of the last-mentioned
opinion, and his inclinations were seconded by Lord George to a certain
extent. He stated the advantages and disadvantages of both propositions;
but added, that, although he could not venture to advise the Prince to
march into England without more encouragement than they had hitherto
received, yet he was persuaded that if his Royal Highness marched south,
his army, though but small, would follow him. Upon this, Charles
immediately said these words, "I will venture it." "I spoke," adds Lord
George, "with the more caution, since some things had happened about the
time of the blockade of Carlisle, and a little before, which had made me
desirous to serve only as a volunteer, and not as a general officer;
but, as all the other officers were very pressing with me, I soon laid
that thought aside."[81]

What those circumstances were, Lord George explains in the following
letter to his brother. His difficulties, owing to the want of
arrangements, such as his skill and experience might have suggested, had
he been first in command, appear to have been sufficiently trying. Yet,
in the extract from a letter dated Nov. 15, from Harraby, Lord George
does ample justice to the exertions of the Duke of Perth. This epistle
was written whilst the blockade and battery were going on.

    "I am sorry to find that it is impossible to go on so quick with the
    battery of cannon as would have been wished. By the report of those
    I sent there, the ground is marshy, and vastly too much exposed;
    and, notwithstanding all the pains taken by the Duke of Perth, who
    is indefatigable in that service, and who meets with innumerable
    difficulties, I suspect the place pitched upon will not answer. But,
    if the thing be prosecuted, I think it my duty to tell you, so as
    you may represent it to his Royal Highness, that the men posted upon
    the blockade of Carlisle will not expose themselves, either in
    trenches, or all night in the open air, within cannon-shot, or even
    musket-shot of the town, except it be in their turn with the rest of
    the army, and that it be decided by lot who is to mount the guard,
    first night, second, and so on. The way I would propose, if it be
    approved of by a council of war, is as follows:--that fifty men be
    draughted out of each of the battalions that are at Brampton, with
    proper officers, and at least two majors out of the six battalions,
    and be sent to quarter at Butcherby, which, I believe, is within a
    mile of the battery; and, as I suppose, one hundred and fifty men
    will mount guard at the battery. These six battalions will furnish
    two guards; your men will furnish one, General Gordon and Lord
    Ogilvie's one, which, in the whole, makes four guards, or reliefs;
    and I think, by that time, the town will be either taken or the
    blockade removed. I don't mention the Duke of Perth's regiment,
    because they have more than their turn of the duty already, besides
    furnishing workmen, &c. And for Colonel Roy Stuart's regiments, I
    suppose they have the guard of the equipage, &c.; and they will,
    perhaps, be able to furnish some workmen. If anything be done of
    this nature, the sooner I hear of it the better. I ever am, dear
    brother, your most affectionate brother, and faithful humble
    servant,

                                                "GEORGE MURRAY."[82]

This advice was disregarded. A court-martial was held to consider of the
plan suggested by Lord George. By this council the detachments proposed
by Lord George for the relief of the battery were refused, upon the plea
that those corps had lately encountered all the fatigue of the blockade
at Edinburgh, and that it would not be fair to put them again upon that
service. On the day after receiving this decision, in the hand-writing
of Secretary Murray, Lord George addressed the following letter to the
Prince. His conduct upon this occasion shows the proud and fiery spirit
of this able commander.

                                               "15th November, 1745.

    "Sir,

    "I cannot but observe how little my advice as a General officer has
    any weight with your Royal Highness, ever since I had the honour of
    a commission from your hands. I therefore take leave to give up my
    commission. But as I ever had a firm attachment to the royal family,
    and in particular to the King my master, I shall go on as a
    volunteer, and design to be this night in the trenches as such, with
    any others that will please to follow me, though I own I think there
    are full few on this post already. Your Royal Highness will please
    order whom you think fit to command on this post, and the other
    parts of the blockade. I have the honour to be, sir, your Royal
    Highness's most faithful and most humble servant,

                                        (Signed) "GEORGE MURRAY.[83]

    "Lord Elcho has the command till you please to appoint it
    otherwise."

To his brother, the Marquis of Tullibardine, Lord George wrote still
more fully. In this letter, after informing the Marquis that he had
given up his commission of Lieutenant-General, Lord George complains of
a want of confidence on the part of the Prince, in regard to the terms
which were to be accepted or rejected in the surrender of Carlisle.
Touching these, Charles Edward, who was now almost completely under the
controul of Secretary Murray, acted in a weak and vacillating manner.
When pressed by Lord George Murray to give him full instructions, he
hesitated; Lord George entreated him, if he could not decide during his
presence in the camp, that the Prince would send instructions after
him.[84] "When he would not come to any fixed resolution before I came
away, I begged his Royal Highness would send his intentions and
instructions after me, that I might conduct myself by them; but his
secretary told me plainly, he took that matter to be his province, as he
seems indeed to take everything upon him both as to civil and military.
There are many other things which have determined me to wish to have no
command; and it is some time past since I observed things must go into
utter confusion. I shall show, as a volunteer, that no man wishes more
success to the cause; and I can be of more use charging in the first
rank of your Atholl men than as a general, where I was constantly at a
loss to know what was doing. I am of opinion you should reduce your men
to two battalions; one for Lord Nairn, the other Mr. Mercer. When you
are quartered anywhere, if you have a hole to spare, I shall be as often
with you as I can; at other times, I shall lye with the men in a barn,
which I doubt not will hearten them much. In every thing, as a
volunteer, I shall do all I can to advance the service; but am
determined never to act as an officer. I have several things to say at
meeting. If you have occasion for tent or horses, they are at your
service, for I design to keep none, but make presents of them all.

                                      "Adieu! Yours, GEORGE MURRAY."

"Haroby, 15th Nov. 1745."

       *       *       *       *       *

Not only were the seeds of disunion thus sown between the Prince and the
Generals, but also between the Marquis of Tullibardine and Lord George
Murray.

"I did expect," writes Lord George to the Marquis, "that you would have
upon occasion stood my friend; but I find you are too apt to hearken to
designing people, by your being so ready to blame me before I was heard;
and, except you show some regard for me, how can I expect it of others?
I told his Royal Highness that you had acquainted me that he desired to
see me. He said, No, he had nothing particular to say to me. I told him
I should be as ready to serve in a private station, and as a volunteer,
in the first rank of your men, as ever I could be in any other. He said
I might do so. Nothing else passed. I spoke a good time to Sir Thomas
Sheridan, and told him in particular, that if anything was taken amiss
in my letter, as having expressed my attachment to the King, without
having mentioned his Royal Highness, it was very injurious to me; for
having mentioned the King and royal family, (and designing my letter to
be short,) I thought it needless to be more particular; for surely, next
to the King, I would serve none on earth before his Royal Highness:
which, after what I have shown, and all my actions since I joined the
standard, could not be called in question. I mentioned several
particulars, wherein I showed that I had no authority in the station I
was in, and that others acted as General who had not any call, but used
his Royal Highness's name. That in the drudgery, I was employed, but
anything of moment was done without my participation. That, in short, I
had ventured my all--life, fortune, family--every thing, my honour;
which last I had some to lose, but none to gain, in the way things were
managed, and therefore resolved upon a private station."[85]

The concluding paragraph of this painful letter is written with a force
and bitterness which show how deeply this ardent servant of a failing
cause was wounded by what he justly deemed unmerited caprice and
disrespect. "I wish you would be careful of the Atholl men, that they be
not slighted; which never should have happened as long as I had any
command. I find scarce any of them have got even thanks for venturing
life and fortune, and even the gallows; and, which is worse, (I don't
know how it is come about,) they are not thought equally good with other
men. If you would send me the notes, that were made out, of the way of
modelling them into two different regiments, I would do, now that I have
time to do it, as much as possible for the good of the service and
general comfort. I always am, dear brother, your most faithful and
humble servant and affectionate brother,

                                                "GEORGE MURRAY."[86]

"Haroby, 16th Nov. 1745."

       *       *       *       *       *

There was also another source of complaint, which, though appearing on
the surface to have originated with the Duke of Perth, was clearly
traceable to the Prince, or rather to his adviser, Secretary Murray. A
marked slight had been passed on Lord George Murray on the very night on
which the battery on Carlisle was opened. He had gone into the trenches;
and, seeing the Duke of Perth there, he had desired him, in case of
anything extraordinary happening, to let him know, and that he would aid
him by every means in his power. What private orders the Duke had was
not known; but, far from applying to Lord George for aid or counsel, he
sent to Brampton, seven miles' distance, whenever any difficulty
occurred, and acquainted the Prince with it, but took no notice of Lord
George, although he was an older officer than himself, and had been sent
to Harroby to cover the siege. Upon this, Lord George, who thought he
was entitled to know what had passed in the trenches, complained, but
received no satisfactory answer: and thus aggrieved, and, as he
conceived, insulted, he sent that letter to the Prince, which has justly
been censured as making an invidious distinction between the young
Chevalier and his father.[87]

These acts of indiscretion and intemperance were followed by another
proceeding still less worthy of the soldier and the man of honour: Lord
George Murray indeed lowered himself, when, at the same time that he
wrote to the Prince, he set on foot a petition praying Charles that he
would dismiss all Roman Catholics from his councils. This was aimed at
the Duke of Perth and Sir Thomas Sheridan; nor can we assign to it any
better motive than that it was intended to re-instate Lord George Murray
in the command. Some allowance may, nevertheless, be made for the
prejudices of a Presbyterian, acting on the determined and overbearing
nature of a high-spirited man. But the vital principles of our Christian
faith tend to soften animosities, to humble pride, and to accord to
others the same intention to act rightly as that of which we ourselves
are prone to boast. A sincere, a truly pious member of the Christian
church cannot be an intolerant partizan of certain modes of faith.
There dwells within his breast a deeper sentiment than that which is
inspired by the worldly and sublunary distinctions of sect. And Lord
George Murray, seeing his young and blameless rival, the Duke of Perth,
brave, honourable, and moderate, had shown greater zeal for true
religion had he not availed himself of an unworthy plea to base upon it
an invidious and covert insinuation.

He was reproved by the magnanimity of the man whom he desired to remove
from the Prince's councils. Although the Duke of Perth did not profess
to acquiesce in the opinion that it was unreasonable that he should have
the chief command, although he did not pretend to acknowledge the
justice of the claim, he nobly gave up, for the sake of a Prince whom he
loved, the superiority to Lord George Murray. His conduct on this
occasion recalls the generous sentiments of the knight and soldier in
ancient times; unhappily it failed in producing that unanimity which it
was intended to effect. The rancour between Lord George Murray and the
Secretary still remained, although it did not break out on every
occasion, and sometimes gave way to the common cause when the interests
of all were at stake.[88]

At Carlisle the forces were reviewed and were found to amount to above
five thousand foot, with five hundred[89] on horseback, mostly
low-country gentlemen followed by their servants, under the name of
guards, hussars, &c.[90] After a few days rest, and after completing
every arrangement for the preservation of Carlisle, the army marched to
Penrith; Lord George preceding the rest of the forces at the head of six
regiments and some horse. This was an adventurous undertaking with so
small a force; for there were now in England above sixty thousand men in
arms including the militia and the newly raised regiments; but the
Prince, observes Mr. Maxwell, "had hitherto had a wonderful run of
success." He was still buoyed up with hopes of a landing of French
troops, and of an insurrection in his favour.[91]

On the twenty-fourth of November the Prince marched from Carlisle to
Penrith, and thence to Lancaster, which he reached on the twenty-fifth,
at the head of the vanguard of his army. He was dressed in a light plaid
belt, with a blue sash, a blue bonnet on his head, decorated with a
white rose, the sound of the bagpipes, and the drum playing "The King
shall have his own again;" the banners, on which were inscribed the
words "Liberty and Property, Church and King," failed, nevertheless, to
inspire the cold spectators who beheld them with a corresponding
enthusiasm.

The army advanced towards Preston, Lord George Murray commanding the
van; and on the twenty-sixth of November, the whole force assembled
before that town, the very name of which struck terror into Scottish
breasts. Nor were the English Jacobites without their fears, nor devoid
of associations with the name of a place in which the hopes of their
party had been blighted in 1715, and their banners steeped in blood.
The walls of Preston recalled to many of the volunteers of Lancashire
the prison in which their fathers had died of fever, or starvation, or
of broken hearts. It is remarkable, as one of the newspapers of the day
observes, that many of those who joined the Chevalier's ranks were the
sons of former insurgents. "Hanging," adds the coarse party writer, "is
hereditary in some families."[92] Lord George Murray, in order to avoid
the "freit," or, in other words, to humour the superstition of the
Highlanders, who had a notion that they never should get beyond Preston,
crossed the Ribble bridge, and landed a great many of his men on the
other side of the water, about a mile from the town, where they halted
the next day, waiting for some intelligence, of which it is presumed,
says Lockhart, "they were disappointed." Here it was necessary to divide
even this little army for the convenience of quarters.[93] At Preston
the Prince was received with enthusiastic cheers, but when officers were
ordered to beat up for recruits, no one enlisted. The tents which had
been provided had been left on the road from Moffat to Edinburgh; and
the season was so severe, that it was impossible even for Highlanders to
sleep in them; the town was too small to receive them; the same
arrangement that had been begun at Carlisle was still pursued, and the
army went in two great divisions, though with scarcely a day's march
between them. Lord George Murray commanded what was called the
low-country regiments; but the greater part of these was, observes Mr.
Maxwell, "Highlanders by their language, and all were in their dress,
for the Highland garb was the uniform of the whole army."

One can easily conceive what must have been the effect of this gallant
force, unbroken by fatigue or privation, and glorying in their
enterprise, as they entered into the friendly county of Lancaster,
filled with Roman Catholic gentry, who gathered around the standard of
the Prince. The colours of the Tartan, which was worn, as we have seen,
by the whole of the army, both Highlanders and Lowlanders, although
denominated by a writer in the _Scots' Magazine_ as a "vulgar glare,"
never offend the eye, but are, according to a high authority,
"beautifully blended and arranged." "Great art," observed the celebrated
Mr. West, "(that is to say, much knowledge of the principles of
colouring with pleasing effect,) has been displayed in the composition
of the tartans of several Clans, regarding them in general as specimens
of national taste, something analogous to the affecting but artless
strains of the native music of Scotland."

This garb, which excited the attention and admiration of Napoleon at the
battle of Waterloo, consisted of the truis, the kilted plaid, and
philibeg. The truis, be it observed, for the benefit of the dwellers in
the south, were used by gentlemen on horseback, and by others according
to their choice; but the common garb of the people was the plaid and
kilt; and this was the usual dress down to the passing of the act for
suppressing the garb. The tartan is said to have been known in Flanders;
and the tartan and kilt to have been adopted in the Lowlands before
their adoption among the mountains.[94] Without attempting to meddle in
the dangerous and intricate question of antiquity, it must be
acknowledged that the Highland dress is well adapted to the habits of a
pastoral people, as well as being extremely graceful and picturesque. It
is also admirably fitted to oppose the inclemency of those regions in
which, among the other habits which characterise the peculiar people who
wear it, it is still regarded as a loved and revered badge of national
distinction. In the various campaigns in Holland, the Highlanders
suffered far less than other nations in that damp and chilly climate; in
the retreat to Corunna, under the hero Sir John Moore, their plaids
bound lightly round their bodies, they experienced the convenience of
that simple form of dress in a rapid and protracted march. Light and
free, the mountaineer could pursue, without restraint, the most
laborious occupations; he could traverse the glens, or ascend mountains
which offer a hopeless aspect to the inhabitants of more civilized
spheres. But it was not only as a convenient and durable mode of apparel
that the kilt and philibeg were advantageous. The Highland costume, when
it formed a feature among English or foreign regiments, cemented a
spirit which was felt and feared by foes. It bound those who wore it in
a common bond, not to dishonour the garb which their chiefs and their
forefathers had worn, by an act of cowardice, or by deeds of
cruelty.[95]

Little did the English Government, or the inhabitants of the metropolis,
or probably the country in general, know the character of the brave,
ill-fated band of Highlanders, who were now advancing into the very
heart of the country. It was the custom, especially among those who
wished to gain preferment at Court, or who affected to be fashionable,
to speak of the Highlanders as low, ignorant savages; semi-barbarians,
to whom the vulgar qualities of personal courage and hardihood might be
allowed, but who had neither any urbanity to strangers, nor refined
notions of honour. The word "rebel," was a mild name for those who were
following Prince Charles's standard as it was borne southwards. The
hardened villains, "the desperadoes, rabble, thieves, banditti!"[96] are
the terms usually employed in expressing the sovereign contempt felt by
ignorance for an honourable, religious, and primitive people. It seems
also to have been thought only necessary for the Duke of Cumberland to
show his face in the north, to put to flight a beggarly handful of
undisciplined men, whose moral character, if we might credit certain
passages in the Magazines of the day, was as low as their military
acquirements. By other nations besides their own sister country, the
same erroneous notions concerning the Scottish Highlanders prevailed. In
Germany it was conceded that they might be capable of becoming "good and
useful subjects when converted from heathenism." The French, too,
presumed to look upon them with contempt, until they met them, when
acting as auxiliaries to other powers, so often in battle, and beheld
them so generally in the front, that they verily believed at last, there
were twelve battalions in the army instead of two; and one of their
Generals, Broglio, in after times remarked, that "he had often wished to
be a man of six feet high, but that he became reconciled to his size
after he saw the wonders performed by the little mountaineers."[97]

It is scarcely now necessary to allude to these errors at that time
prevalent regarding the valour of the Scottish host. Tributes from every
known country have long elevated this brave and oppressed people into a
proud and honourable position. Instead, however, of the undisciplined
savages who were supposed to be traversing the country, it was sooner
found than acknowledged, that the intrepidity of the Highlanders was
united to humanity, and to upright principles. To their noble qualities
was added a deep sense of religion. In after-times it was remarked, that
no trait in the character of the Highlanders was more remarkable than
the respect which was paid by the different regiments which were
eventually employed in the British service, to their chaplains. The men
when they got into any little scrape were far more anxious, writes
General Stuart, "to conceal it from their chaplain than from their
commanding officer."

But, however the public prints might revile, and the polite society at
St. James's ridicule, and misunderstand the Highlanders, the General
whose lot it was to conquer the unfortunate Jacobites knew well of what
materials their forces were composed. The Duke of Cumberland, at the
battle of Fontenoy, had been so much pleased with the conduct of the
famous Black Watch, that he had offered them any favour which they chose
to ask, or which he could grant, to mark his approbation. The answer to
this proof of approbation was worthy of those valiant auxiliaries, who
are described by the French as "Highland furies, who rushed in upon us
with more fury than ever did a sea driven by a tempest." The Highlanders
replied, after thanking the Royal Duke for his courtesy, "that no favour
he could bestow on them would gratify them so much as to pardon a
soldier of their regiment, who lay under a sentence of court martial, by
which he was decreed to incur a heavy corporal punishment; the
infliction of which would," they said, "bring dishonour on themselves,
their friends, and their country." The request was granted. It was,
nevertheless, the countrymen of these Highlanders, men as heroic as
true, as nice in their sense of honour as the Black Watch, upon whom the
Duke wreaked the utmost of his vengeance after Culloden, whom he hunted
with bloodhounds,--whose honest hearts he broke by every possible
indignity, though their gallant spirits could never be subdued.

As the army advanced, a great multitude assembled to gaze upon the
singular spectacle. The very arms borne by the Highlanders were objects
of curiosity and surprise, no less than of alarm, to the populace, who
stood by the way-side expressing their good-will to the expedition, but
who, when asked to join the insurgents, declined, saying, "they did not
understand fighting."[98] The formidable weapons with which the
Highlanders contrived to make themselves terrible to their enemies,
consisted of a broad-sword, girded on the left side, and a dirk or short
thick dagger on the right, used only when the combat was so close as to
render the broadsword useless. In ancient times, these fierce warriors
brandished a small short-handled hatchet or axe, for the purpose of a
close fight. A gun, a pair of pistols, and a target, completed their
armour, except when ammunition failed, when they substituted for the
gun, the lochaber axe; this was a species of long lance, or pike, with a
formidable weapon at the end of it, adapted either for cutting or
stabbing. The lochaber axe had fallen into disuse since the introduction
of the musket; but a rude, yet ready substitute had been found for it,
by fixing scythes at the end of a pole, with which the Highlanders
resisted the attacks of cavalry. Such had been their arms in the early
part of the Insurrection of 1745, and such they continued until, at the
battles of Falkirk and Preston Pans, they had collected muskets from the
slain on the battle-field. In addition to these weapons, the gentlemen
sometimes wore suits of armour and coats of mail; in which, indeed, some
of the principal Jacobites have been depicted; but, with these, the
common men never incumbered themselves, both on account of the expense,
and of the weight, which was ill-adapted to their long marches and steep
hills.[99]

A distinguishing mark which the Highland Clans generally adopted, was
the badge. This was frequently a piece of evergreen, worn on the bonnet,
and placed, during the insurrection of 1745, beside the white cockade.
When Lord Lovat's men assembled near the Aird, they wore, according to
the evidence given on the State Trials, sprigs of yew in their
bonnets.[100] These badges, although generally considered to have been
peculiar to the clans, were, observes a modern writer,[101] "like
armorial bearings, common to all countries in the middle ages; and
shared by the Highlanders among the general distinctions of chivalry,
were only peculiar to them when disused by others." Thus, the broom worn
by Geoffrey Plantagenet, Count D'Anjou;--and the raspberry by Francis
the First of France, were only discontinued as an ornament to the head
when transferred to the habit, or housings; but the Highland Clans,
tenacious of their customs, wore the plant not only upon their caps, but
placed them on the head of the Clan standard. The white cockade was now
regarded as the peculiar badge of the party; yet it seems not, at all
events among the Clan Fraser, to have superseded the evergreen. Some few
traces are left, in the present day, to certify, nevertheless, that they
were worn during the contest of 1745. "Lord Hardwicke's Act, and
continual emigration," remarks John Sobieski Stuart, "have extirpated
the memory of these distinctions once as familiar as the names of those
who bore them; and all of whom I have been able to collect any evidence
are, the Macdonalds, the Macphersons, the Grants, the Frasers, the
Stuarts, and the Campbells." "The memory of most," mournfully remarks
the same writer, "has now perished among the people; but, within a
recent period, various lists have been composed--some by zealous
enthusiasts, who preferred substitution to loss, and some by the
purveyors of the carpet Highlanders, who once a-year illuminate the
splendour of a ball-room with the untarnished broadswords and silken
hose, never dimmed in the mist of a hill, or sullied in the dew of the
heather."[102]

The Macdonalds, until a very short period before the rebellion of 1715,
were known by the heather bow. "Let every man," said one of their chiefs
of old, looking round on a field of blooming heather, "put over his head
that which is under his feet." The destined sufferers of Glenco were
marked by their "having a fair busk of heather, well spread and
displayed over the head of a staff." The Clan Macgregor wore the fir;
and the Clan Grant assumed a similar badge; whilst the badge of the
Frasers is said to have been supplied for ages by a yew of vast size, in
Glen-dubh, at the head of Strath Fearg. The badge assigned to the
Macphersons was the water lily, which abounds in the Lochs of Hamkai,
upon the margin of which was the gathering place of the Clan Chattan.
Some of these distinctions appear to have been used during the year
1745, as we see in the case of the Frasers, but all to have emerged into
the one general distinction of the Jacobites, the white rose, first worn
by David the Second, at the tournament of Windsor in 1349, when he
carried the "_Rose argent_." This badge had been almost forgotten in
Scotland, until the year 1715, when it was worn by the adherents of
James Stuart, on his birthday, the tenth of June. "By the Irish
Catholics," observes the Editor of the "Vestiarium Scoticum," "it is
still worn on the same day; but in Scotland its memory is only retained
in the ballads of '15, and '45."

The Muses, who, as Burns has remarked, are all Jacobites, have
celebrated this badge in these terms:--

    "O' a' the days are in the year,
    The tenth o' June I lo' maist dear,
    When our _white roses_ a' appear,
    For the sake o' Jamie the Rover."[103]

The Highland host, after marching through Preston, to the sounds of the
bagpipes, which played "The King shall have his own again," took the
road through Wigan, towards Manchester. The Prince was informed that the
English troops had broken down the bridge at Warrington; and that
circumstance, which decided him to go through Wigan, somewhat encouraged
his naturally sanguine temper, as it showed fear on the part of the
enemy. During this march, the kind-hearted young man went on foot,
except occasionally, when we find notice of his riding a fine horse in
the public prints of the day. He usually, however, gave up his carriage
to the venerable Lord Pitsligo, and marched at the head of one of the
columns. He never took dinner, but ate a hearty supper; and then,
throwing himself upon a bed, slept until four in the morning, when he
arose, to prosecute the fatigues of another day, fatigues which youth, a
sound constitution, and, above all, a great degree of mental energy,
enabled him to endure.

Wigan, which the Chevalier's forces now approached, had been, in the
time of Queen Elizabeth, agitated by religious differences; and the
Queen's Commission for promoting the ordinances of the Reformed Church
had been there met with a vigorous resistance. During the civil wars,
this town, both from its vicinity to Latham House, and from its
attachment to Charles the First, took a distinguished part, and obtained
the characteristic designation of the "faithful and loyal town of
Wigan." After the insurrection of 1715, the oaths of supremacy and
allegiance to the reigning family had been, in vain, strongly urged upon
the inhabitants of Lancashire, and a large mass of landed estates were,
in consequence, put in jeopardy; although it does not appear that the
owners were dispossessed of their estates, or that any other use was
made of the register taken of all the landed properties in the county,
except to assist the magistrates in the suppression of the insurrection
in the north. Nevertheless, the expectation which Charles might
naturally entertain of a general rising in Lancashire was not realized.
"Nothing," observes Mr. Maxwell, "looked like a general concurrence
until he came to Manchester."[104] This was remarkable, for Manchester
had been the head-quarters of many of the Parliamentary party in
Lancashire during the civil wars; whilst Preston and Wigan had both been
royalist boroughs. But a singular alteration had taken place in the
people of Manchester, who had changed from Roundheads to Jacobites.[105]

During the whole of the preceding march the Highland army had levied
the public revenue with great accuracy; but no extortion, nor any
attempts at plunder, had disgraced their cause, nor reflected on Lord
George Murray as their General.[106]

At Manchester, the first organized force raised in England for the
Chevalier joined Charles Edward. It was a regiment of two hundred men,
commanded by Colonel Townley, a gentleman who had been in the French
service; and was called the Manchester Regiment. It was composed of
young men of the most reputable families in the town, of several
substantial farmers and tradesmen, and of about one hundred common men.
The accession of this troop gave great encouragement to the Prince; yet
there were still many who thought very badly of the enterprise, and the
advice afterwards given by Lord George Murray at Derby, to retreat, was
also whispered at Manchester, Lord George being resolved to retreat,
should there be no insurrection in England, nor landing from France. "At
Manchester, one of his friends told Lord George," relates Maxwell, "that
he thought they had entered far enough into England, since neither of
these events had happened." To this Lord George replied that they might
make a farther trial, and proceed to Derby; where, if there should be no
greater encouragement to go on, he should propose a retreat to the
Prince.[107]

The reception of Prince Charles at Manchester, was celebrated with
demonstrations of enthusiastic joy. As he marched on foot into the town,
at the head of the clans, halting to proclaim the Chevalier St. George,
King, the bells rang, and preparations were made for illuminations and
bonfires in the evening. The Prince was attended by twelve Scottish and
English noblemen: from these he was distinguished by wearing the white
cockade on the top of his cap, in the centre, instead of on the side, as
did his general officers. Peculiarly formed to grace such occasions as a
triumphal entry into an important and friendly town, Charles Edward
quickly won the good will of the female part of the community; and the
beauty and grace of the kingdom were soon, to use a phrase of a
contemporary writer, enlisted in his behalf.

To the personal attributes of the Prince, "joining the good nature of
the Stuarts with the spirit of the Sobieski," Charles Edward added one
accomplishment which the monarch then on the throne of England did not
possess: he spoke English well, although with a foreign accent: in this
last respect, he resembled some of those around him, more especially the
Duke of Perth, who, having been long abroad, in vain endeavoured to
conceal the French idiom and pronunciation by affecting a broad Scottish
dialect.[108]

Still, in spite of these advantages, and notwithstanding the known
predilection of the Lancastrians for the cause of the Stuarts, the
lowest populace alone joined the standard of Charles. One melancholy,
though admirable exception has been already referred to in the person of
Colonel Francis Townley. This gentleman was a member of an ancient
family, and the nephew of Mr. Townley, whose seat in Townley Hall,
Lancashire, lays claim to high antiquity; and yet, is modern in
comparison with a former residence, once seated on what is still called
the Castle Hill. Francis Townley was a man of literary acquirements,
which, indeed, eminently distinguished his relative, the celebrated
Charles Townley, who formed at Rome, and afterwards brought to London,
the well-known collection of marbles which was bought by the Trustees of
the British Museum for twenty thousand pounds; (supposed to be a sum far
beneath its actual value,) and which still graces that national
structure.

The family of Townley had been remarkable for their fidelity to the
Stuarts long before Colonel Francis Townley raised a troop for the
Chevalier. The grandfather of this unfortunate man, had been tried for
rebellion, in 1715, but acquitted; it was therefore very unlikely that
when his accomplished descendant espoused the same ill-starred cause,
there would be any mercy shown to a family so deeply implicated in
Jacobitism. Francis Townley was afterwards taken prisoner, and tried
with other persons, chiefly captains in the Manchester regiment. Of
these the greater number were hung on Kennington Common. The head of
Colonel Townley was severed from his body, according to sentence, after
death, and was placed upon Temple Bar; but those of most of his brothers
in arms were preserved in spirits, and sent into the country, to be
placed in public situations in Manchester and Carlisle.[109]

Prince Charles now prepared to proceed on his march to Macclesfield,
while Lord George Murray was sent with his division to Congleton. The
accompaniments of the Jacobite army, if we can venture to believe a
letter inserted in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1745, and purporting to
be written by a lady in Preston to her friend in London, formed a
singular spectacle. Four ladies of some distinction are stated in this
letter to have marched with the army. These were Lady Ogilvie, Mrs.
Murray of Broughton, a lady of great beauty and spirit, the celebrated
Jenny Cameron, and another female, unknown, but who is supposed to have
been the mistress of Sir Thomas Sheridan. The populace, nevertheless,
mistook Sheridan for a priest, and assigned to him the nick-name of the
"Archbishop of Canterbury." The first two ladies went in a chariot by
themselves; the others were in a coach and six with the young Chevalier,
to whose dejection and weariness as he passed through Preston, Jenny
Cameron is said to have administered cordials. By the same writer the
Jacobite army are described as looking like "hunted hares." Such is a
specimen of one of the ephemeral slanders of the day; and the
circumstance of the coach and six tends to disprove the whole letter.
The Prince, it is evident from every isolated account, marched on foot
until he entered Derby.[110] It was, however, perfectly true that Mrs.
Murray of Broughton and Lady Ogilvie, whose husbands were both with the
army, attended the movements of the Highland force.

And now were the merits of Lord George Murray as a General, certain very
soon to be called into active play; for, on the twenty-sixth of
November, William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, had left London at the
head of an army, to oppose the insurgents.

On the character of the royal individual who, in his twenty-fifth year
came forward to rescue his country, as it was said, from the yoke of a
foreign invader; and whose promising, but immature talents, backed by a
great military force, were effectual in defeating the skill of an
experienced General, some reflections will naturally arise.

William, Duke of Cumberland, was born in the year 1721. He very early
demonstrated that predilection for military affairs which obtained for
him from Walpole the praise of having been "one of the five only really
great men whom he had ever seen." He very soon, also, betrayed that
cruel and remorseless spirit which was wreaked on the brave and the
defenceless; that indifference to suffering which too aptly was repaid
by an indignant people with the name of "the Butcher;"--that thirst for
blood which we read of in Heathen countries, before the commandments of
the God of Israel, or the beautiful commentary of a Saviour of Mercy
upon those sacred commandments, had chastened and humanized the people.
Those tendencies which, whilst England was elate with success, and when
she gloried in a suppressed rebellion, raised the Duke of Cumberland to
a hero;--and, when reflection came, sank him to a brute; were manifested
in the dawn of youth. In after years, (what extreme of odium could be
greater?)--even children instinctively feared him. One day, when playing
with his nephew, afterwards George the Third, a child, the Duke drew a
sword to amuse him. The incident occurred long after the mouldering
bones upon the field of Culloden were whitened in the sun; long after
the brave Balmerino had suffered, and vengeance had revelled in the doom
of the beloved Kilmarnock. But the sins of the remorseless Cumberland
cried to Heaven. They were registered in the mind of a child. The boy
turned pale and trembled, and acknowledged that he thought his "uncle
Cumberland was going to kill him." The Duke shocked and deeply hurt,
referred to popular prejudice the impression which was the result of
crime.

Imperious, aspiring, independent, the grasping and able intellect of the
Duke soon imbibed a knowledge of affairs beyond his years. When scarcely
out of the nursery he loved the council chamber, and delighted in the
recitals of foreign wars. As he reached manhood, he affected a lofty and
philosophical coldness; a dangerous attribute in youth, and one which
either springs from a frigid disposition, or else infallibly contracts
the heart. But, in the case of the Duke of Cumberland, it concealed a
proud and selfish spirit, which could ill brook the superiority of his
elder brother, Frederic, Prince of Wales, or bear with temper the
popularity of another. When, in after years, his brother's death was
communicated to him, those jealous and disdainful feelings broke forth.
"It is a great blow to the country," he said, sarcastically; "but I
hope, in time, it will recover it." That want of faith in human nature,
of reverence for good motives, that absence of a generous confidence
which one can suppose strongly characterise the lost angels, were among
the many odious features in the character of this truly bad man. The
prevailing feeling of his mind was, contempt for everything and
everybody;--a contempt for renown;--a contempt, in after life, for
politics, which he conceived were below his attention; a contempt for
women, whom he lowered by a sort of preference consistent with the rest
of his coarse character, but whose modest virtues he mistrusted. With
this affectation of superiority, the Duke combined the littleness of
envy. When he had attained the height of his popularity, his
satisfaction was tarnished by the reputation of Admiral Vernon, who was
the idol of the public. As a General, his acknowledged and eminent
qualities were sullied by the German puerilities of an exact attention
to military trifles; any deficiency in etiquette was punished like a
crime: the formation of a new pattern of spatterdashes was treated as an
important event. Nor was this all. He introduced into an army of
Englishmen the German notions of military severity; he fostered a system
which it has taken nearly a century of great efforts, and good works in
the humane, to annul. "He was," says Horace Walpole, "a Draco in
legislation;" adding, "that in the Duke's amended mutiny bill the word
'Death' occurred at every clause."[111]--Such is the general colouring
of his public character. A strong and sensitive feeling with regard to
the national honour; a devoted reverence for the sovereign authority;
which were the only principles and institutions which he seemed to
respect, are the milder traits. In private, he countenanced, by his own
practice, most of those vices which scarcely existed with greater
impunity, or with less inconvenience from public opinion, in the days of
Charles the Second, than in those in which Cumberland flourished, and
left a finished model of a character without one redeeming excellence.

As a soldier, however, the merits of the Duke, if merits those can be
called which were the natural effects of animal courage, and of a
strong, remorseless mind, must be, at all events, acknowledged. He
behaved with great gallantry in his first campaign with his royal
father, and was wounded at the battle of Dettingen. At too early an age,
in 1744, he was placed at the head of a great army, in order to oppose
Marshal Saxe; and the event of the battle of Fontenoy proved the error.
But, in that engagement, the valour of the young General was admitted on
all hands. "His Royal Highness," relates the author of "The Conduct of
the Officers at Fontenoy considered," "was everywhere, and could not
without being on the spot have cheered that Highlander who with his
broad sword killed nine men, and making a stroke at the tenth, had his
arm shot off,--by a promise of something better than the arm which he,
the Duke, saw drop from him."[112]

It was with the hope of retrieving the lost reputation of the Duke at
Fontenoy, and in order to remedy the glaring defects of General Hawley,
that this young man, old in hardened feelings, but full of ardour and
courage, was sent to repel the forces of the Chevalier. It was also
thought by the Government that the placing a prince of the blood-royal
at the head of the army would have a powerful influence on the minds of
the people, and neutralize the counter-influence of Charles Edward.[113]
The Duke therefore assumed the command of an army ten thousand strong,
and set out from London to intimidate the enemy.

The Duke of Cumberland was by no means so ignorant of the force which he
was now destined to attack, as were most of the other "good people of
England, who knew as little of their neighbours of the Scottish
mountains, as they did of the inhabitants of the most remote quarter of
the globe."[114] In the battle of Fontenoy, the Duke of Cumberland had
become acquainted with the peculiar mode of fighting practised by the
Highlanders, in the manoeuvre of the "Black Watch," or 42nd; and had
shown his judgment in allowing them to fight in their own way. This
gallant regiment, in which many of the privates were gentlemen, were
exempted at this time from the service of crushing the rebellion, only
to have a duty, perhaps more cruel and more unwarrantable, forced upon
them, after the battle of Culloden. By a singular circumstance, the
Black Watch was commanded by Lord John Murray, a brother of Lord George
Murray's, Sir Robert Munro officiating as acting colonel.[115]

At Macclesfield, Prince Charles gained the intelligence that the Duke of
Cumberland had taken the command of Ligonier's army, and that he was
quartered at Lichfield, Coventry, Stafford, and Newcastle-under-Line.
The Prince then resolved to go direct to Derby; and it was to conceal
his design, and to induce the Duke to collect his whole army at
Lichfield, that Lord George Murray marched with a division of the army
to Congleton, which was the road to Lichfield. Congleton, being on the
borders of Staffordshire, was sufficiently near Newcastle-under-Line for
Lord George to send General Ker to that place to gain intelligence of
the enemy. General Ker advanced to a village about three miles from
Newcastle, and very nearly surprised a body of dragoons, who had only
time to make off. He took one prisoner, a man named Weir, who was a
noted spy, and who had been at Edinburgh during the whole of the
Prince's stay there, and had since always kept within one day's march of
the army. It was proposed to hang him; but Charles could not be brought
to consent to the measure, and insisted that Weir was not, strictly
speaking, a spy, since he wore no disguise. "I cannot tell," observes
Mr. Maxwell, "whether the Prince on this occasion was guided by his
opinion or by his inclination: I suspect the latter, because it was his
constant practice to spare his enemies when they were in his power. I
don't believe there was an instance to the contrary to be found in this
expedition."[116]

Upon the third of December, Lord George Murray with his division of the
army marched by Leek to Ashbourn; and the Prince, with the rest of the
forces, came from Macclesfield to Leek, where, considering the distance
of the two columns of his army, and the neighbourhood of the enemy, he
naturally considered his situation as somewhat precarious. It was
possible for the enemy, by a night-march, to get betwixt the two
columns; and, contemplating this danger, the Prince set out at midnight
to Ashbourn, where it was conceived that the forces should proceed in
one body towards Derby. "Thus," remarks a modern historian, "two armies
in succession had been eluded by the Highlanders; that of Wade at
Newcastle, in consequence of the weather or the old Marshal's
inactivity, and that of Cumberland through the ingenuity of their own
leaders."[117]

Charles Edward and his officers slept at Ashbourn Hall, now in the
possession of Sir William Boothby, Baronet; into whose family the estate
passed in the time of Charles the Second.[118]

The young Prince had now advanced far into that county which has no
rival in this Island in the beauty and diversity of its scenery, in the
simple, honest character of its fine peasantry, or in the rank and
influence of its landed proprietors. The history of these families is
connected with the civil, and foreign wars of the kingdom; and already
had the moors and valleys of Derbyshire been the scene of contest which
had the Restoration of the Stuarts for their aim and end. In 1644, a
battle was fought near Ashbourn, in which the Royalists were defeated;
in 1645, just a century before Charles Edward entered Ashbourn, Charles
the First had attended service in the beautiful gothic church of
Ashbourn, as he marched his army through the Peak towards Doncaster.

The inhabitants of the district retained some portion of their ancient
loyalty to the Stuarts. As Prince Charles ascended the height, from
which, leading towards Derby, a view of the town of Ashbourn, seated in
a deep valley, and of the adjacent and romantic country, may be seen,
the roads were lined with peasantry, decorated with white cockades, and
showing their sentiments by loud acclamations, bonfires, and other
similar demonstrations. "One would have thought," remarks Mr.
Maxwell,[119] "that the Prince was now at the crisis of his adventure;
that his fate, and the fate of the three kingdoms, must be decided in a
few days. The Duke of Cumberland was at Lichfield; General Wade, who was
moving up with his army along the west side of Yorkshire, was about this
time at Ferry Bridge, within two or three days' march. So that the
Prince was, with a handful of brave, indeed, but undisciplined men,
betwixt two armies of regular troops, one of them above double, the
other almost double, his number." It was owing to the skill and prudence
of Lord George Murray that this gallant but trifling force was enabled
to return to Scotland, for scarcely ever was there a handful of valiant
men placed in a situation of more imminent peril.

Derby, which is fifteen miles from Ashbourn, was thrown into the utmost
confusion and disorder when the news that the vanguard of the insurgent
army was approaching it became generally known. "The hurry," says a
contemporary writer, "was much increased by the number of soldiers, and
their immediate orders to march out of town, and nothing but distraction
was to be read in every countenance. The best part of the effects and
valuables had been sent away or secreted some days before, and most of
the principal gentlemen and tradesmen, with their wives and children,
were retiring as fast as possible."[120]

The borough of Derby, although by no means so opulent when Charles
Edward and his friends visited it as in the present day, presented,
perhaps, a far more appropriate scene for the faint and transient shadow
of a Court, than it now affords. It had, even within the memory of man,
an aspect singularly dignified, important, and antique in its streets;
and it still possesses many residences which are adapted for the higher
orders, rather than for the industrious burgesses of a town. These are
chiefly seated on the outside of the town. They were, so late as 1712,
and perhaps much later, "inhabited by persons of quality, and many
coaches were kept there." To the west, King's Mead, where formerly there
was a monastery of the Benedictine order, is now graced by a series of
stately detached residences, which, under the modernized name of Nun's
Green, constitute the court end of Derby. But, interspersed in the
streets, there are still many ancient tenements in which Prince Charles
and his high-born adherents might find suitable accommodation.

Party feeling ran high in Derby, and most of its leading and principal
denizens were Tories, and even Jacobites. It was in Derby that Henry
Sacheverell preached his famous sermon, on "Communication of Sin." This
literary firebrand was first thrown out to the High-Church party in
1709, when the High Sheriff, George Sacheverell, of Callow, was attended
by Dr. Henry Sacheverell as his chaplain, and the walls of All Saints
Church resounded with the denunciations of that vehement, and
ill-judging man. The seed that was thus sown fell into a land fertile in
High Church propensities; the Grand Jury intreated Dr. Sacheverell to
print his discourse; and, eventually, when they considered that, by the
mild sentence given against their Preacher on his trial, they had gained
a triumph, bonfires proclaimed their joy, in the market-place of that
town, where the warfare of Sacheverell had first begun.

On the accession of George the First, and when the Chevalier landed in
Scotland, fresh manifestations of the Jacobite party broke forth. The
Church of All Saints was again the scene of its display. Three principal
clergymen in the town openly espoused the Stuart cause. Sturges, the
Rector of All Saints, prayed openly for "King James"--but, after a
moment's pause, said, "I mean King George." "The congregation became
tumultuous; the military gentlemen drew their swords, and ordered him
out of the pulpit, into which he never returned."[121] Perhaps the event
which tended most to quiet the spirit of Jacobitism among the lower
classes in the town, was the erection of silk mills, in 1717. Nothing
tranquillises extreme views in politics more surely than employment; few
things attach men's minds to a Government more, than efforts crowned
with success. Notwithstanding the memory of Sacheverell, a Whig member
had been returned, in the last election, for the borough; the great
merits and influence of the House of Cavendish overpowering the
uproarious Tories, who, in vain, broke windows, and attacked their
enemies. But discontent again broke forth. The winter of 1745 found the
whole nation in a state of suffering and discontent; and many of the
constitutional securities for liberty and property had been given up, in
order to secure the stability of the throne. Taxation had been imposed,
in the worst and most unpopular form, that of excise duties, in order to
maintain an expensive Court, and to pay for Continental wars, which were
maintained to preserve the hereditary German possessions of the King.
Yet, in spite of these crying evils, such is the difficulty of inducing
Englishmen to incur the risk of forfeiture and disaster, that even the
town of Derby had diligently provided itself with a defence against the
Chevalier's divided forces, on hearing of their approach.

During the month of September 1745, in consequence of instructions from
London, the Duke of Devonshire, attended by the greatest appearance of
gentlemen ever seen in the town before, assembled the clergy, in order
to consider of such measures as were necessary for the support of the
Government. An association was entered into, and sums were liberally
contributed, after a splendid dinner, at that ungrateful inn, the
George, which, during the sojourn of Charles Edward at Derby, changed
its sign, into the safe and ambiguous title of the King's Head. Two
companies of volunteers, of six hundred men each, were raised by the
association. A proposal to call out the county militia was vehemently
negatived, probably from that spirit of distrust which pervaded the
councils of King George's Government. By an order in council, passed in
the previous September, all Roman Catholics had been prohibited from
keeping a horse of above five pounds in value, and restrained from going
five miles from their dwellings. It was, therefore, deemed advisable to
select the volunteer forces from the well-affected, and not to employ
the militia of a county so manifestly disposed to foster the young
adventurer as Derbyshire was at that time considered. During the month
of November, a great degree of alarm had disturbed the burgesses of
Derby; and from the communications of the Duke of Devonshire, then
Lord-Lieutenant of the county, to the Mayor, it appears that the young
Chevalier completely baffled the Duke of Cumberland and General Wade,
by his rapid movement into the very heart of England.[122]

So late as the twelfth of December, the Duke of Devonshire and his
eldest son, the Marquis of Hartington, were stationed at the George Inn,
to watch the event of the coming storm, and to concert means for
averting the threatened danger. Some days previously, the Duke had
reviewed a company of six hundred volunteers, together with one hundred
and twenty men raised at his own expense; and those townsmen, who were
not Jacobites, were in high spirits, concluding that the Duke of
Cumberland must have overtaken and attacked the insurgents. On the
evening of the twelfth, the soldiers were summoned to the market-place,
where they stood for some hours; they were then sent to quarters to
refresh themselves; about ten the drums beat to arms, and, being again
drawn out, these valiant defenders of the Borough marched out of the
town, by torch-light, towards Nottingham, headed by the Duke of
Devonshire.

On the following morning, about eleven, two of the vanguard of the
insurgent army rode into the town; and, after seizing a very good horse,
belonging to a Mr. Stamford, went to the George Inn, and there inquiring
for the magistrates, they demanded billets for nine thousand men, or
more.

In a short time afterwards, the vanguard itself rode into the town; this
detachment consisted of about thirty men; they are described in the
account of a cotemporary writer, probably an eye witness, as "likely
men," making a good appearance, in blue regimentals faced with red, with
scarlet waistcoats trimmed with gold lace. They posted themselves in the
Market-place, where they rested for two or three hours; at the same time
bells were rung, and bonfires made upon the pretext of "preventing any
resentment" from the rebels that might ensue upon a cold reception.
About midday, Lord George Murray, Lord Elcho, and several other chiefs
arrived, with troops to the number of one hundred and fifty, the flower
of the army, who made "a fine show." Soon afterwards the main body
marched into the town in tolerable order, six or eight abreast, with
about eight standards, most of them having a white flag with a red
cross. But the appearance of the main body was totally different to that
of the vanguard, and justified the contemptuous opinion and expectations
formed by the loyal inhabitants of Derby, of their coming foe. As they
marched along, the sound of their bagpipes was heard, for the first
time, in the crowded and ancient streets of the borough; but the dress
and bearing of these brave, but ill-accoutred men excited the derision
of the thriving population of an important country town. They were, says
the writer in the _Derby Mercury_ of the day, "a parcel of shabby,
pitiful looking fellows, mixed up with old men and boys, dressed in
dirty plaids, and as dirty shirts, without breeches, and wore their
stockings, made of plaid, not half way up their legs, and some without
their shoes, or next to none, and numbers of them so fatigued with their
long march, that they really commanded our pity more than our
fear."[123]

About five in the evening, when it was nearly dark, the Prince, with the
other column, arrived. He walked on foot, attended by a great body of
men, to a house appointed for his reception, belonging to Lord Exeter,
and seated in Full-street. Here guards were placed around the temporary
abode of the Prince; and here, during his stay at Derby, he held his
councils.

"Every house," adds the writer before quoted, "was pretty well filled
(though they kept driving in till ten or eleven at night), and we
thought we should never have seen the last of them. The Duke of Atholl
had his lodgings at Thomas Gisborne's, Esq.; the Duke of Perth at Mr.
Rivett's; Lord Elcho at Mr. Storer's; Lord Pitsligo at Mr. Meynell's;
Lord George Murray at Mr. Heathcote's; Old Gordon, of Glenbucket, at Mr.
Alderman Smith's; Lord Nairn at Mr. John Bingham's; Lady Ogilvie, Mrs.
Murray, and some other persons of distinction at Mr. Francey's; and
their chiefs and great officers were lodged in the best gentlemen's
houses.[124] Many ordinary houses both public and private, had forty or
fifty men each, and some gentlemen near one hundred."

The Prince, upon his arrival at Derby, resolved to halt for one day, and
to take the advice of his council what was to be done at this juncture.
His hopes were high, and his confidence in the good-will of the people
of England to his cause was unabated. He continued to entertain the
notion that George the Second was an usurper, for whom no man would
willingly draw his sword; that "the people of England, as was their
duty, still nourished that allegiance for the race of their native
Princes which they were bound to hold sacred, and that if he did but
persevere in his daring attempt, Heaven itself would fight in his
cause." His conversation, when at table, beneath the roof of Exeter
House, turned on the discussion "how he should enter London, whether on
foot, or on horseback, or whether in Highland or in Lowland garb."[125]
Nor was Charles Edward singular in his sanguine state of mind. It was
observed, says Mr. Maxwell, "that the army never was in better spirits
than while at Derby."[126]

The judgment which Lord George Murray had formed at Manchester,
remained, however, unaltered by all these expectations. On the following
morning, when the council met, he represented to the Prince that they
had marched so far into the country, depending on French succours, or on
an insurrection, neither of which had taken place; that the Prince's
army, by itself, was wholly unprepared to face the troops which the
"Elector of Hanover," as Lord George denominated him, had assembled.
Besides General Wade's army, which was coming to oppose them, and that
of the Duke of Cumberland, forming together a force of between seventeen
and eighteen thousand strong, there was a third army, encamped on
Finchley Common, of which George the Second was going to take the
command in person. Even supposing that the Prince should be successful
in an engagement with one of these armies, "he might be undone by a
victory." The loss of one thousand or fifteen hundred men would
incapacitate the rest of his small force from another encounter; and
supposing that he was routed in that country, he and all his friends
must unavoidably be killed. On the whole, including the army formed at
London, there would be a force of thirty thousand men to oppose an army
of five thousand fighting men; that before such a host, pursued Lord
George,[127] "it could not be supposed one man could escape; for the
militia, who had not appeared much against us hitherto, would, upon our
defeat, possess all the roads, and the enemy's horse would surround us
on all hands; that the whole world would blame us as being rash and
foolish, to venture a thing that could not succeed, and the Prince's
person, should he escape being killed in the battle, must fall into the
enemy's hands."

"His Royal Highness," continues Lord George Murray in his narrative,
"had no regard to his own danger, but pressed with all the force of
argument to go forward. He did not doubt but the justness of his cause
would prevail, and he could not think of retreating after coming so far;
and he was hopeful there might be a defection in the enemy's army, and
that several would declare for him. He was so very bent on putting all
to the risk, that the Duke of Perth was for it, since his Royal Highness
was. At last, he proposed going to Wales, instead of returning to
Carlisle, but every other officer declared his opinion for a retreat,
which some thought would be scarce practicable. I said all that I
thought of to persuade the retreat, and, indeed, the arguments to me
seemed unanswerable; and for the danger, though I owned an army upon a
retreat did not fight with equal valour as when they advanced, yet, if
the thing were agreed to, I offered to make the retreat, and be always
in the rear myself; and that each regiment would take it by turns till
we came to Carlisle; and that the army should march in such order, that
if I were attacked, I might be supported as occasion required, and
without stopping the army (except a very great body of the enemy should
be upon me), I would send aide-de-camps to desire such assistance as I
should judge the occasion would require; but that I really believed
there would be no great danger; for, as we were informed, the Duke of
Cumberland was at Stafford, and would in all appearance, that night or
next morning, be drawing near London to intercept us, so that if our
design were not mentioned till next morning that it should be put in
execution, we would be got to Ashbourn before he could have certain
information of our design to retreat."

The Prince, who was naturally bold and enterprising, and who had been
hitherto successful in every thing, was indignant at this. Since he had
set out from Edinburgh, he had never had a thought but of going on, and
fighting everything in his way to London. He had the highest idea of the
bravery of his own men, and a despicable opinion of his enemies, and
hitherto with good reason; and he was confirmed in these notions by some
of those that were nearest his person; these sycophants, more intent
upon securing his favour than promoting his interest, "were eternally
saying whatever they thought would please, and never hazarded a
disagreeable truth."[128]

A connected narrative of the proceedings in council has been given by
Lord Elcho; and, at the risk of some recapitulations, it is here
inserted, not having been previously published entire.

"The fifth, in the morning, Lord George Murray, and all the commanders
of battalions and squadrons, waited on the Prince, and Lord George told
him that it was the opinion of every body present that the Scots had now
done all that could be expected of them. That they had marched into the
heart of England, ready to join any party that would declare for him.
That none had done so, and that the counties through which the army had
passed had seemed much more enemies, than friends, to his cause. That
there were no French landed in England; and that if there was any party
in England for him, it was very odd that they had never so much as
either sent him money or intelligence, or the least advice what to do.
But if he could produce any letter from any person of distinction, in
which there was an invitation for the army to go to London, or to any
other part of England, that they were ready to go; but if nobody had
either invited them, or meddled in the least in their affairs, it was to
be supposed that there was either no party at all, or, if there was,
they did not choose to act with them, or else they would ere now have
let him know it. Suppose even the army marched on and beat the Duke of
Cumberland, yet, in the battle they must lose some men; and they had,
after that, the king's own army, consisting of seven hundred men, near
London to deal with. On the contrary, if either of these armies beat
them, there would not a man escape; as the militia, although they durst
never face the army while in a body, yet they would have courage enough
to put an end to them if ever they were routed; and so the people that
were in armies in Scotland would fall an easy sacrifice to the fury of
the Government. Again, suppose the army was to slip the King's and
Duke's army, and get into London, the success of the affair would
entirely depend on the mob's declaring for or against it; and that if
the mob had been much inclined to his cause since his march into
England, to be sure some of his friends in London would have fallen upon
some method to let him know it; but if the mob was against the affair,
four thousand five hundred men would not make a great figure in London.
Lord George concluded by saying, that the Scots army had done their
part; that they came into England at the Prince's request, to join his
English friends, and to give them courage by their appearance to take
arms and declare for him publicly, as they had done, or to join the
French if they had landed. But as none of these things had happened,
that certainly four thousand five hundred Scots had never thought of
putting a king on the English throne by themselves. So he said his
opinion was, they should go back and join their friends in Scotland, and
live and die with them.

"After Lord George had spoken, all the rest of the gentlemen present
spoke their sentiments, and they all agreed with Lord George except two
(the Duke of Perth and Sir William Gordon), who were for going to Wales
to see if the Welsh would join.

"The Prince heard all these arguments with the greatest impatience, fell
into a passion, and gave most of the gentlemen that had spoke very
abusive language; and said they had a mind to betray him. The case was,
he knew nothing about the country, nor had the smallest idea of the
force that was against him, nor how they were situated." Fully convinced
that the regular army would never dare to fight against him, and
trusting to the consciences of men more than to the broad sword of his
army, he always believed that he should enter St. James's with as little
difficulty as he had done Holyrood-house. "He continued," says Lord
Elcho, "all that day positive he would march to London. The Irish in the
army were always for what he was for, and were heard to say, that day,
'that they knew if they escaped being killed, the worst that could
happen to them was a few months imprisonment.'"

The reluctance of the unfortunate and brave young Chevalier was
increased by the evident ardour which his men, in the expectation of an
engagement with the Duke of Cumberland, were at that very instant
displaying, whilst the arguments which sealed Charles Edward's fate,
resounded within the walls of Exeter-house. The Highlanders, whose
heroism balanced the inequality of the respective forces, breathed
nothing but a desire for the combat. They were to be seen, during all
that eventful day, in crowds before the shops of the cutlers,
quarrelling who should be the first to get their swords sharpened.[129]
In the very midst of the discussions, a courier arrived from Lord John
Drummond, informing the Prince that he had landed at Montrose with his
regiment, the Scottish Brigade, newly raised in France, and some pickets
of the Irish Brigade, the rest of which would probably be in Scotland
before the letter reached the Prince.[130] But this favourable
intelligence, far from lessening the desire of Lord George to secure a
retreat, rather increased his determination to uphold that resolution;
and emboldened him to unfold to Charles Edward a plan for a Scottish
campaign, which, he thought, might be prosecuted with advantage. In
retreating to Scotland, the Prince, he argued, would have the advantage
of retiring upon his reinforcements, which included the Highlanders at
Perth, and the succours brought by Lord John Drummond. He concluded his
address by a request, in the name of the persons present, that they
should go back and join their friends in Scotland, to live or die with
their countrymen.

Two councils were held upon this important subject, for in the afternoon
the Prince convened another, to consider of the advices which the
courier sent by Lord John Drummond had brought. "The debates," observes
the Chevalier Johnstone, "were very keen." The Prince obstinately
insisted upon giving battle to the Duke of Cumberland on the next day,
the sixth; but he stood alone in that opinion. The Chiefs of Clans, who,
since the council held at Perth, had never opposed the Prince in
anything, feeling that they had now advanced too far to retreat,
nevertheless opposed the march to London. They pointed to the coldness
with which the insurgent army had hitherto been received; and asked how,
supposing by some miracle the forces were to reach London, an army of
four thousand men would appear among a population of a million people?
The Prince still insisted upon marching to London; he even opposed the
retreat, on the ground of the immense risk. The Duke of Cumberland, he
contended, would pursue them hotly, and be always at their heels.
Marshal Wade, he remarked, would certainly receive orders to intercept
the army, so that they would "be placed between two fires, and caught as
it were, in a net."

This argument was met by the assurances which have been already stated
in Lord George Murray's own language--that he would manage the retreat,
taking always the rear. That he ably and effectually fulfilled that
promise, was shown in the result.

At length the Prince, finding the greater part of the council was of
Lord George's opinion, and deserted even by the Duke of Perth, who,
after for long time resting his head on the fire-place in silence,
accorded loudly with the Clans, consented to the retreat. This assent,
wrung from him, was given with these bitter words,--"Rather than go
back," exclaimed the high-spirited young man, "I would wish to be twenty
feet under ground.[131] Henceforth," he added, haughtily, "I will hold
no more Councils, for I am accountable to no one for my actions, except
to my father."

The usual double-dealing, and factious contention of party, succeeded
this painful scene in the council. "After the council was dismissed,"
says Mr. Maxwell,[132] "some of those who had voted against the retreat,
and the Secretary, who had spoken warmly for it in private conversation
with the Prince, condemned this resolution, and endeavoured to instil
some suspicion of the courage and fidelity of those who had promoted it.
The Prince was easily persuaded that he had been too complaisant in
consenting to a retreat, but would not retract the consent he had given,
unless he could bring back those to whom he had given it over to his own
sentiments; which he hoped he might be able to do, since the Secretary
had altered his opinion. With this view he called another meeting of the
Council, in the evening, but found all the rest, to a man, firm in their
former sentiments; upon which, the Prince gave up a second time his own
opinion and inclination, to the advice and desire of his Council."

The character of one individual was, however, elicited in this affair.
"From this time," observes Mr. Maxwell,[133] "the Secretary ceased to be
in odour of sanctity with those that were not highly prejudiced in his
favour. The little knave appeared plainly in his conduct on this
occasion. He argued strenuously for the retreat, because he thought it
the only prudent measure, till he found it was carried by a great
majority, and would certainly take place; and then he condemned it, to
make his court to the Prince, to whom it was disagreeable, and lay the
odium upon other people, particularly Lord George, whom he endeavoured
to blacken on every occasion." Some people will wonder that this
bare-faced conduct did not open the Prince's eyes as to the baseness of
Secretary Murray's heart; "but," says Maxwell, "if we consider that
Murray was in the highest degree of favour, the steps by which he rose
to it, and the arts he used to maintain himself and exclude everybody
that could come in competition with him, he will easily conceive how he
got the better of any suspicions his behaviour might have created at
this time."

The question, whether the arguments of Lord George Murray were guided by
wisdom, or whether they might be better characterised as the result of a
cold, and, in this case, unworthy prudence, has been very differently
canvassed.

"There are not a few," observes Mr. Maxwell, "who still think the Prince
would have carried his point had he gone on from Derby; they build much
upon the confusion there was at London, and the panic which prevailed
among the Elector's troops at this juncture.[134] It is impossible to
decide with any degree of certainty, whether he would or would not have
succeeded,--that depended upon the disposition of the Army and of the
City of London, ready to declare for the Prince. What could he do with
four thousand four hundred men, suppose he got to London, whatever were
the dispositions of the Army and the City? It is certain the Prince had
no intelligence from either. This leads me to examine the conduct of the
Prince's friends in England. The cry was general against them about this
time in the Prince's army, and they are still exclaimed against by
foreigners, who, having but a very superficial knowledge of these
affairs, conclude that either the English are all become Hanoverians,
or, if there are still some that have an English heart, they must be
strangely degenerated, since they did not lay hold of this opportunity
of shaking off the German yoke. Though I am convinced the Prince had a
great many well-wishers in England, and though it is my opinion he would
have succeeded had they all declared for him, nevertheless I cannot join
in the cry against them, no more than I can condemn abundance of his
friends in Scotland who did not join him. I have told elsewhere upon
what a slender foundation this expedition was undertaken. Murray had
imposed upon the Prince, and hurried him into it, without concerting
anything with England. The English had always insisted upon a body of
regular troops, not under seven and not above twelve thousand effective
men. They saw the Prince in England with a handful of militia, which
they could never think a match for thirty thousand regular troops. It is
true the English have, in former times, taken arms upon less
encouragement and less provocation than they had met with of late; but
in those days the common people were accustomed to arms, and the
insurgents were as good soldiers as any that could be brought against
them."

Such is the reasoning of an eye-witness. One thing is certain,
contemporary writers appear to have generally acquiesced in the
propriety of the retreat; and that circumstance constitutes the
strongest evidence in favour of the step. Yet, viewing events at this
distance of time, and taking into account the panic which seized, not
only the public mind, but which affected the heads of the Government on
hearing of the bold and rapid march of the insurgents, our faith in the
wisdom of a retreat is weakened. In the night when it was announced in
the fashionable circles of St. James's that the Prince had reached
Derby, a general consternation was diffused throughout society. A lady
of the highest rank, who was in one of the assemblies of the day,
related to one of her descendants that upon the intelligence reaching
the party where she was, the rooms were instantly cleared, and on the
following morning there was not a carriage to be seen in London.

Nor were these apprehensions confined to any particular sphere.[135] The
arrival of the troops at Derby was known in London on the ninth of
December, henceforth called by the English "Black Monday." Many of the
inhabitants fled in terror from the metropolis, taking their treasures
with them; the shops were closed: people thronged to the bank to obtain
payment of its notes, and it only escaped bankruptcy by the following
stratagem. Those who came first being entitled to priority of payment,
the managers of the bank took care to be surrounded by agents with
notes, to whom their pretended claims were paid in sixpences to gain
time. These agents went out by one door and came back by another, so
that the _bona fide_ holders of notes could never get near enough to
present them; and the bank stood out by these means until the panic had
died away. King George even embarked all his most precious effects on
his yachts, which were stationed in the Tower-quay, in readiness to
convey him away, should the dreaded Highlanders, as it now began to be
generally expected, march to London in a few days. The "moneyed
corporations," according to Smollett, were all in the deepest dejection;
they reflected that the Highlanders, of whom they had conceived a most
terrible idea, were within four days' march of the capital; they
anticipated a revolution ruinous to their own prosperity, and were
overwhelmed with dismay.

"I was assured," writes the Chevalier Johnstone, (who differed from his
General, Lord George,) "on good authority, when I was in London, some
time after our unfortunate defeat, that the Duke of Newcastle, then
Secretary of State for the War Department, remained inaccessible in his
own house the whole of the 6th of December, weighing in his mind the
part which it would be most prudent for him to take, and even uncertain
whether he should not instantly declare himself for the Pretender. It
was even said at London, that fifty thousand men had actually left that
city to meet the Prince and join his army, and every body in the capital
was of opinion, that, if we had beaten the Duke of Cumberland, the army
of Finchley Common would have dispersed of its own accord, and that by
advancing rapidly to London, we might have taken possession of that city
without the least resistance from the inhabitants, and without
exchanging a single shot with the soldiers. Thus a revolution would have
been effected in England, so glorious for the few Scotchmen by whom it
was attempted, and altogether so surprising, that the world would not
have comprehended it. It is true, the English were altogether ignorant
of the number of our army, from the care we took in our marches to
conceal it; and it was almost impossible for their spies ever to
discover it, as we generally arrived in the towns at nightfall, and left
them before the break of day. In all the English newspapers our numbers
were uniformly stated as high as twelve or fifteen thousand men. Under
such circumstances, some temporary advantages might have been gained by
marching southwards; for it is now believed that the Jacobite party in
England were much more numerous than we have generally understood; and
that thousands would have flocked to the standard of Charles Edward had
he been accompanied by a sufficient force to authorise the expectation
of his success."

The British administration was, it is true, devoid of men of talent or
principle, and discontent and distress prevailed in the country. In the
City of London, the Jacobite party was very strong; its member was
Alderman Heathcote, who, with Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, had announced to
Lord Temple his determination to rise immediately upon a landing of
troops from France.[136] The prevalence of Jacobite principles among
the English gentry is supposed to have infected many officers in the
royal army, who might have avowed them at any crisis in the public
affairs; many were, at all events, suspected of Jacobite principles;
"and the mere suspicion," remarks Lord Mahon, "would have produced
nearly the same effects as the reality,--bewilderment, distrust, and
vacillation in the chiefs." "Had, then, the Highlanders combined to push
forward," observes this able writer, "must not the increasing terror
have palsied all power of resistance? Would not the little army at
Finchley, with so convenient a place for dispersing as the capital
behind it, have melted away at their approach?"

In confirmation of this surmise may be quoted an anecdote which is
related of a company of the celebrated Black Watch, which had been
exempted during the insurrection of 1745 from serving against their
countrymen; more than three hundred of the regiment having brothers and
relations engaged in the Jacobite army.[137] But it was afterwards
employed on a service which might well have been assigned to others;--to
execute the decrees of burning, and to lay waste the districts where the
forefathers of these brave men had lived. On marching one company of
this famous regiment out of London, the Highlanders, on arriving at
Hounslow, suddenly became immovable; they halted, and refused to
proceed, or to bear arms against their countrymen. Their commanders, in
dismay, turned to the chaplain of the regiment, to use his influence.
The clergyman then in office happened to be Ferguson, the celebrated
astronomer. He mounted on a temporary rostrum or pulpit, harangued the
Highlanders, and, after an emphatic address, prevailed on them to march
forward.

Such were some of the difficulties which the English Government
encountered. To this may be added, the defenceless state of the coasts
of Kent and Essex. The French ministers were now in "the very crisis of
decision as to their projected expedition." The preparations at Dunkirk
were completed; and had Charles Edward, by advancing, shown that such
aid was only a secondary matter in his favour, their fleet would have
set sail. Besides, the Jacobites in England were by no means in so
apathetic and subdued a condition as that which has been generally
represented.[138]

"I believe then," emphatically remarks Lord Mahon, "that had Charles
marched onward from Derby he might have gained the British throne; but I
am far from thinking that he would long have held it."

"Whether he (Charles Edward)," says Sir Walter Scott, "ought ever to
have entered England, at least without collecting all the forces which
he could command, is a very disputable point; but it was clear, that
whatever influence he might for a time possess, arose from the boldness
of his advance. The charm, however, was broken the moment he showed, by
a movement in retreat, that he had undertaken an enterprise too
difficult for him to achieve."[139]

In the opinion of the Chevalier Johnstone, whose judgment was formed
under the influence of Lord George Murray, much of the failure of the
expedition was owing to the inactivity of Lord John Drummond, who ought,
according to his statement, to have advanced by forced marches to the
assistance of Prince Charles. Nor was this the only error of that
zealous, but inexperienced general: through his representations, the
false intelligence that an army of ten thousand men was awaiting him in
Scotland, was conveyed to the Prince; the disembarkation of this force
was continually and confidently expected. "The first thing we did in the
morning," says Chevalier Johnstone, "was to see whether the wind was
favourable;" and this delusive expectation had a very great influence in
deciding the resolution taken at Derby to retreat to Scotland.

Whatever were the reasons which actuated the council of war, the result
was, in the first instance, both painful to those who promoted the
decision of the question, and highly obnoxious to the army. Arrangements
were, however, made to keep the proposed retreat as secret as possible,
both in order to baffle the Duke of Cumberland and not to irritate the
Highlanders. Yet the design was soon penetrated by those who were intent
upon every movement of their superiors. Lord George Murray, in his
journal, describes the sensation which the projected retreat occasioned,
in the following terms.[140] "Our resolution was to be kept secret, as
it was of great consequence the enemy should have the intelligence of
our march as late as possible. Yet, in the afternoon, one Sir John
Macdonald, an Irish officer in the French service who had come over with
the Prince, came where Lochiel, and Keppoch and I were talking together,
and railed a great deal about our retreat. 'What!' says he to Keppoch,
'a Macdonald turn his back?' and to Lochiel, 'For shame; a Cameron run
away from the enemy! Go forward, and I'll lead you.' This gentleman was
old, and had dined heartily, for he was much subject to his bottle: we
endeavoured to persuade him that he was mistaken, but he still insisted,
and said he had certain information of it. To tell the truth, I believe
he liked his quarters and entertainment better in England than in
Scotland, and would rather have been taken than return; for he thought,
as he was in the French service, he did not run the same risk as others
did. Some people, seeing the Prince so much cast down about the retreat,
to ingratiate themselves, blamed the resolution; and though they had in
the morning, as much as any body, given their hearty concurrence in the
measure, and had exprest themselves so; yet, as they saw the retreat
would certainly be put in execution, though they appeared against it,
they thought proper to say that their reason for agreeing to it was
because they knew the army would never fight well when the officers were
against it. Sir Thomas Sheridan and his Royal Highness's secretary acted
this part. And the Duke of Atholl, who had not been present in the
morning, when the Prince sent for him in the afternoon, and spoke to
him, seemed much for going forwards. In the evening, when this was
understood by the rest of the officers, they told his Royal Highness
that they valued their lives as little as brave men ought to do; and if
he inclined to go forward they would do their duty to the last, but
desired that those that advised his Royal Highness to go forward would
sign their opinion, which would be a satisfaction to them. This put a
stop to all underhand dealings, and the Duke of Atholl when he heard
others upon the same subject, was fully satisfied as to the necessity of
the measure."

The town of Derby presented, during its occupation by the Jacobites, a
singular scene. The Highlanders, hitherto maintaining a character for
good order, now broke loose upon the townsmen of a city, which they,
perhaps, began to consider as their own. They took the opportunity of
replenishing themselves with gloves, buckles, powder-flasks,
handkerchiefs, &c., which they demanded from the tradespeople, whose
shops they entered. Being refreshed with a good night's rest, they ran
about from house to house, until the town looked as if it were the
resort of some Highland fair. "If they liked a person's shoes better
than their own," relates a contemporary writer, "nothing was more common
for them than to demand them off their feet, and not to give them
anything, or what they asked for them." This insolence grew upon the
forbearance of the townsmen, who dared not to resist martial law. Even
the medical profession did not escape an unwilling participation in the
concerns of the Jacobites. Dr. Hope, a physician residing in the town,
and a member of the highly-respectable family there, was summoned to
attend one of the sojourners in Exeter-house. The tradition which has
preserved this anecdote among the descendants of Dr. Hope, has not
specified the name of the invalid. The physician was told that he must
go instantly: he was blindfolded, and led by armed men into the presence
of his patient, without knowing whither he was conducted; a precaution,
it may be presumed, adopted to prevent a refusal.

The church of All Saints witnessed what its Protestant ministers must
have viewed with indignation and sorrow. Prayers were ordered to be said
at six o'clock in the evening, when a Roman Catholic clergyman entered
the sacred edifice, and performed the service according to the ritual of
his church.[141]

In addition to these impolitic acts of a short-lived power,
proclamations were made by the Town Crier, levying the excise duties;
and a demand of one hundred pounds was made upon the post-office. In
other quarters, even these forms were omitted, and plunder and outrage,
which, says the author of the Derby Mercury, "were they to be stated
would fill our paper," were mercilessly committed. Nevertheless, such
was the tendency of the town of Derby to Jacobite principles, that,
among the higher orders, the brief appearance of the young and
unfortunate adventurer was long remembered with interest, and his fate
recalled with regret. The ladies of Derby vied with each other in making
white cockades, of delicate and costly workmanship, to present to the
hero of the day. To some of these admiring votaries he presented his
picture, a dangerous gift in after-times, when a strict system of
scrutiny prevailed; and when even to be suspected of Jacobite principles
was an effectual barrier to all promotion in offices, and a severe
injury to those in trade. One of these Jacobite ladies[142] is known by
her family to have kept the portrait of the Prince behind the door of
her bedchamber, carefully veiled from any but friendly inspection.

Early on the morning of Friday, the sixth of December, the drums beat to
arms, and the bagpipes were heard playing in different parts of the
town: the forces, it was expected by the townsmen, were thus summoned to
continue their march to Loughborough, a town full of Jacobites, who were
known to have been pledging the young adventurer's health on their bare
and bended knees.[143] The retreat was begun in such haste, and attended
with such confusion, that many of the Highlanders left their arms behind
them, where they were quartered.

At nine o'clock, Prince Charles, in deep dejection, was seen mounted on
a black horse, which had belonged to the brave Colonel Gardiner;--to
quit Exeter-house, and, crossing the market-place, to proceed to
Broken-row; he then turned through Sadler Gate, towards Ashbourn; he was
followed by the main body of his army. Before eleven o'clock, Derby, so
lately resembling, in its busy streets, the animated scene of a Highland
fair, was totally cleared of all the Highland troops. But the
consternation of the inhabitants paralyzed them. On that day no market
was held, as usual; nor did the bells toll to church on the next Sunday;
nor was divine service performed in any of the numerous and fine
churches which grace the town.[144]

The retreat, thus begun under such inauspicious circumstances, was left
solely to the guidance of the General who had so earnestly recommended
it; and Lord George Murray took the sole management of it. In the dawn
of the morning, when some of the troops had begun their march, the
Highlanders did not perceive in which direction they were marching; they
believed that they were going to give the Duke of Cumberland battle.
When they discovered that they were in retreat, a murmur of lamentation
ran through the ranks. "The inferior officers," Lord Elcho relates,[145]
"were much surprised when they found the army moving back, and imagined
some bad news had been received; but, when they were told everything,
and found the army had marched so far into England without the least
invitation from any Englishman of distinction, they blamed their
superiors much for carrying them so far, and approved much of going back
to Scotland. They had all along imagined they were marching to join the
English, and were acting in concert with them. To the common men it was
given out the army was going to meet their friends from Scotland, and to
prevent Marshal Wade from getting in between them, whose army was at
Wetherby and Doncaster."

The influence, however, of these contradictory reports upon the common
men was soon conspicuous. The march was at first regular enough; but the
whole bearing of the Highlanders was changed. Dispirited and indignant,
they became reckless in their conduct: they lingered on the way, and
committed outrages of which but few instances had been heard during
their march southwards. Lord George Murray found it difficult to keep
his army together. "In the advance," observes Sir Walter Scott, "they
showed the sentiments of brave men, come, in their opinion, to liberate
their fellow-citizens; in the retreat, they were caterans, returning
from a creagh." The cause which they had adopted, had lost, from this
moment, all hope, though the mournful interest attached to it still
remained, perhaps, with increasing force.

In order to conceal the retreat as long from the enemy as possible, a
party of horse was ordered to advance some miles in the direction of
Lichfield, where the Duke of Cumberland was posted; and, to keep up the
delusion, powder was distributed among the army. It was also insinuated
that Wade was at hand, and that they were going to fight him; but when
the soldiers found themselves on the road to Ashbourn they suspected the
truth, and became still more sullen and dejected. Another artifice
adopted to raise their spirits was a report, circulated purposely among
them, that the reinforcements expected from Scotland were on their road,
and that having met these, near Preston the army would resume its march
southwards. This project, however distasteful to Lord George Murray,
was, it seems, seriously entertained by the Prince.

And now commenced the difficulties of that undertaking in which Lord
George had pledged himself to conduct an army of little more than six
thousand men, in the depth of winter, in safety to Scotland, although in
the neighbourhood of two great armies. The management of this retreat
has been a subject of admiration to all competent judges of military
affairs; it has conferred lasting honour on the capacity of Lord George
Murray as a General.

It was of the greatest importance, under his circumstances, that Lord
George should know of the movements and intentions of the enemy; and
such was his system, such his address, in employing spies and
emissaries, that he was always informed of what took place in the armies
of the Duke and General Wade. One of his principal agents was Hewett, a
butcher in Derby; who, from his local knowledge, could tell many
particulars of the country-gentlemen, as well as of the movements of the
Duke and his formidable forces.[146]

The Highland army arrived on the night of the sixth at Ashbourn, on the
following day they reached Leek, on the ninth they arrived at
Manchester, where a great revulsion of feeling had taken place. The
"Hanoverian mob," to use the expression of Mr. Maxwell, were determined
to dispute the Prince's entrance; but when his vanguard appeared, these
noisy heroes were instantly silenced.[147] From Manchester the Prince
proceeded to Wigan, and thence to Preston, where he halted on the
twelfth. Here the disappointed young man recurred to his cherished
project, that of having reinforcements sent from Scotland, under
Viscount Strathallan, who had been left in command at Perth, and those
also under Lord John Drummond. Upon his arrival at Preston, he sent the
Duke of Perth into Scotland to bring them with the utmost expedition. He
was resolved to retire no further until he met them, and then to march
directly for London, casting his whole chance of success upon the event
of that step.

Among the generals and chiefs of this army a different sentiment had now
arisen. A safe retreat was their object, and the subject of universal
attention. Hitherto there had been little or no danger; it was
impossible for the enemy to overtake the army before it had reached
Preston; but between Preston and Carlisle it was practicable for the
enemy's cavalry to come up with the Prince's army during that march.
There was even a greater danger to be apprehended than the pursuit of
the Duke. Marshal Wade had left his position at Newcastle-upon-Tyne,
having been ordered by the Duke to place himself between the insurgent
forces and Scotland, in order to cut off the retreat. There were in
those days but few roads, or even passes in the mountainous regions of
Cumberland and Westmoreland, by which a regular army could march. There
was, however, an excellent road from Newcastle to Penrith, a town
through which Wade might march his army, and where he could arrive a day
or two before the Prince, and intercept his retreat.

On the fifteenth the Prince arrived at Kendal, and here Lord George
Murray, taking a body of life-guards, went in person to reconnoitre the
position of the enemy. He brought back several prisoners, who gave him
all the information of which he was desirous. From what was thus
gathered, Lord George perceived that the whole cavalry of Wade's army
might possibly overtake the Highland forces before they could reach
Carlisle; he therefore represented to the Prince the propriety of
sacrificing the cannon and heavy baggage to the safety of the men; since
the mountainous journey from Kendal to Penrith rendered the transit of
such carriages very difficult. But the Prince was determined that his
retreat should have the air of retiring, not of flying; he was resolved
not to leave a single piece of his cannon; he would rather fight both
armies than give such a proof of weakness. He issued peremptory orders
that the march should be continued as before, and that not a single
carriage should be left at Kendal.

The dissensions between Charles Edward and Lord George Murray had now
ripened into reproaches on the one hand, answered by something not
unlike taunts on the other. The former had cherished a predilection for
battles ever since his victory at Glandsmuir, and he often broke out
into expressions of anger towards his General, for his having prevented
his fighting the Duke of Cumberland at Derby. As they quitted Kendal,
Lord George observed to Charles, "Since your Royal Highness is always
for battles, be the circumstances what they may; I now offer you one, in
three hours from this time, with the army of Marshal Wade, who is only
three miles distant from this place." The Prince made no reply, but
mounted into his carriage. All his ardour in marching at the head of the
Clans was gone; he had become listless, careless, and dejected since the
retreat. The army were dispirited by his gloomy and mournful aspect; and
a still greater degree of difficulty and responsibility devolved
therefore upon their General. On the sixteenth of December the army
slept at Shap, and on the seventeenth the Prince arrived at Penrith; but
the artillery, and the regiment of the Macdonalds of Glengarry, could
only reach Shap by nightfall.

On the following morning Lord George proceeded towards Penrith. Scarcely
had he begun his march when he saw a number of the enemy's light horse
hovering about, but not venturing within musket-shot. About midday, as
the Highland army began to ascend an eminence about half-way between
Shap and Penrith, they discovered cavalry riding two and two abreast on
the top of the hill. These instantly disappeared, but the noise of the
kettle-drums and trumpets announced that they were only on the other
side of the hill, and that they were probably forming in order of
battle. Lord George was in the rear of the Highland army.

The advanced guard stopped at the foot of the hill, when suddenly they
formed a resolution to advance sword in hand on the enemy, without
informing Lord George of their resolution. On arriving at the summit of
the hill, the party whose kettle-drums and trumpets had caused such an
alarm, were found to be only three hundred light horse and chasseurs,
who instantly fled. One prisoner only was made, a man who fell from his
horse. It was desirable, on all accounts, to have preserved the life of
this person, but the fury of the Highlanders was such that he was
instantly cut to pieces.

After this alarm, this detachment of the Highland army resumed their
march: the appearance of the light horse had, however, begotten an
impression that Wade's forces were not far distant. The Chevalier
Johnstone, more especially, had strong misgivings on the subject; his
fears were confirmed by his serjeant Dickson, who called his attention
to something black on a hill about three miles distant. This appearance,
which every one else regarded as bushes, was soon found to be the
English army, slowly but surely advancing. Before the vanguard could
recover the surprise, the Duke of Cumberland, who had pursued them with
forced marches, fell upon the Macdonalds, who were in the rear, with
fury. Fortunately the road running between thorn hedges and ditches, the
English cavalry could not act in such a manner as to surround the army,
nor present a larger front than the breadth of the road.

The Highlanders instantly ran to the enclosures in which the English
were, fell on their knees, and began to cut down the hedges with their
dirks. This precaution was necessary, for their limbs were unprotected
by anything lower than their kilts. During this operation, they
sustained the fire of the English with admirable firmness. As soon as
the hedges were cut down, they jumped into the enclosures sword in hand,
and broke the English battalions. A fierce and deadly contest ensued.
The English were nearly cut to pieces without quitting their ground.
Platoons might, indeed, be seen, composed of forty or fifty men falling
beneath the Highlanders, yet they remained firm, closing up their ranks,
as fast as an opening was made by the broad-swords of the Highlanders.
This remarkable attack was made in person by Lord George Murray, at the
head of the Macphersons, whom he ordered to charge. At length the
English dragoons were driven from their posts, and closely pursued until
they arrived at the moor where their main body was planted. In this
"scuffle" the Macphersons lost only twelve men; about one hundred of the
English were killed or wounded. A footman in the service of the Duke of
Cumberland was the only prisoner made by the Highlanders. This man
declared that his royal master would have been killed, if the pistol,
with which a Highlander took aim at his head, had not missed fire.
Prince Charles, with much courtesy, sent him back instantly to the
Duke.[148]

Such is a brief account of the engagement which Lord George Murray calls
a "little skirmish," but which must have afforded, at all events, some
notion of Highland valour to the Duke of Cumberland and his dragoons.
But, independent of the dauntless bravery of the Macphersons, to the
skill of Lord George Murray may be attributed much of the success of the
action. Before the firing began, he contrived, by rolling up his
colours, and causing them to be carried half open to different places,
to deceive the enemy with regard to the numbers of the Highland force;
and to make them conclude that the whole of the army was posted in the
village of Clifton. With about a thousand men in all, he contrived to
defeat five hundred dragoons, backed by a great body of cavalry, all
well disciplined troops. The moon, which was in its second quarter,
appeared at intervals during the close of the action, and gave but a
fitful light, being often over-clouded, so that the combatants fought
almost in gloom, except for a few minutes at a time. The English, being
all on horseback, were just visible to their foes, but the "little
Highlanders" were in darkness. "We had the advantage," observes Lord
George, "of seeing their disposition, but they could not see ours."[149]
This encounter had the effect of saving the Prince and the whole army.
"It was lucky," calmly remarks Lord George Murray, "that I made that
stand at Clifton, for otherwise the enemy would have been at our heels,
and come straight to Penrith, where, after refreshing two or three
hours, they might have come up with us before we got to Carlisle."[150]

Lord George was in imminent danger during the action at Clifton.
Fortunately, an old man, Glenbucket, who was very infirm, remained at
the end of the village on horseback. He entreated Lord George to be very
careful, "for if any accident happened, he would be blamed." "He gave
me," relates Lord George, "his targe; it was convex, and covered with a
plate of metal, which was painted; the paint was cleared in two or
three places, with the enemy's bullets; and, indeed, they were so thick
about me, that I felt them hot about my head, and I thought some of them
went through my hair, which was about two inches long, my bonnet having
fallen off."[151]

In this skirmish Lord George commanded the Glengarry regiment, who had
remained, at the General's request, in the rear, to guard the baggage.
The officers, observes Lord George, "behaved to my wish, and punctually
obeyed the orders they received. That very morning, however, the
Glengarry regiment had told Lord George that they would not have stayed
three days behind the rest of the army to guard the baggage for any man
but himself." The Stewarts, of Appin, were also among the most valiant
of the combatants; but the most signal instances of courage were shown
by Macpherson of Clunie, and his fierce band.

This unfortunate chief was engaged in the insurrection of 1715; that
circumstance had been overlooked by Government; and, in the very year
1745, he had been appointed to a company in Lord Loudon's regiment, and
had taken the oaths to Government. His clan were, however, anxious to
espouse the cause of Charles Edward. Whilst Clunie wavered, his honour
requiring the fulfilment of his oaths, his affections, and his
hereditary principles leading him to follow Charles, his wife, although
a stanch Jacobite, and a daughter of Lord Lovat, entreated him not to
break his oaths, and represented that nothing would end well which began
with perjury. She was overruled by the friends of Clunie, and he
hastened to his ruin.[152]

The victorious General remained at Clifton half an hour after all the
other officers had proceeded to Penrith. This circumstance disproved a
statement given in the English newspapers, which intimated that the
Highlanders had been beaten from their post at Clifton. On the contrary,
"I heard," observed Lord George, "that the enemy went a good many miles
for quarters, and I am persuaded they were as weary of that day's
fatigue as we could be."

Upon arriving at Penrith, Lord George found the Prince much pleased with
what had occurred. He was, however, just taking horse for Carlisle. On
the next day, after staying a very short time at Penrith to refresh,
Lord George joined Charles Edward in that city, which had yielded so
short a time previously to his arms; and here various circumstances
occurred which sufficiently show the discord which prevailed in the
councils of the young Chevalier.

During the march, the young Prince had manifested a lofty sense of his
own honour; but it was combined with a great degree of obstinacy in some
respects, almost accompanied by puerility. Disgusted with the retreat,
indignant with the promoter of that step, bent upon returning to
England, unhappy, discouraged, and distracted by evil counsels, the
Prince had plainly shown, that he would controvert the opinions of Lord
George in every possible instance. He had lingered so late in the
morning before leaving his quarters, as to detain the rear, which that
General commanded, long after the van. This was a great inconvenience,
and difficult for an impetuous temper to tolerate. The Prince not only
refused to allow the army to be eased of any of the ammunition, being
resolved "rather to fight both their armies than to give such a proof of
his weakness;"[153] but he carried that order to an extreme, behaving as
a petulant young man, who exerts power more in anger than from
reflection. The march thus encumbered had been made with a degree of
difficulty and fatigue which tried the patience of the soldiers, who
were obliged, in one instance, to drag, like horses, the heavy waggons,
in order to get them through a stream of water where there was a narrow
pass, and a steep ascent.[154]

No enemy had molested the troops after they left Penrith; and it
appeared evident that, at that time, the Duke of Cumberland had no
intention of coming to a pitched battle, but intended only to take
advantage of the disorder which he might suppose would have attended the
retreat of an army of militia.

On arriving at Carlisle, a council of war was held. Lord George Murray
was in favour of evacuating Carlisle, but his influence was overruled.
"I had been so much fatigued," he remarks, "for some days before, that I
was very little at the Prince's quarters that day." It was, however,
determined to leave a garrison in Carlisle, for Prince Charles had set
his heart upon returning to England. He, therefore, placed in the castle
Mr. Hamilton, whilst the unfortunate Mr. Townley commanded the town.

"This," remarks Mr Maxwell,[155] "was perhaps the worst resolution that
the Prince had taken hitherto. I cannot help condemning it, though there
were specious pretexts for it." It would, indeed, have been highly
advantageous for the Prince to have retained one of the keys of England;
and he might have hoped to return before the place could be retaken. Of
this, however, he could not be certain; and he was undoubtedly wrong in
exposing the lives of the garrison without an indispensable necessity,
which, according to Maxwell, did not exist; for "blowing up the castle,
and the gates of the town might equally have given him an entry into
England."

The day after the Prince had arrived in Carlisle, he left it, and
proceeded northwards. One cause of this, apparently, needless haste was,
the state of the river Esk, about seven miles from Carlisle; it was, by
a nearer road, impassable. This stream, it was argued, might be swollen
by a few hours rain, and then it could not be forded. The Prince might
thus be detained at Carlisle; and he had now become extremely impatient
to know the exact state of his affairs in Scotland; to collect his
forces, in order to return to England. Letters from Lord John Drummond
had re-assured him of the good will of the Court of France--that
delusive hope was not even then extinct. Advice from Viscount
Strathallan had imparted excellent accounts of the army in Scotland.
Under these circumstances, Charles hastened forward, and encountered the
difficult passage over the Esk. Hope again gladdened the heart of one
for whose errors, when we consider the stake for which he fought, and
the cherished wishes of his youth, too little allowance has been made.
But, in the eyes of others, the prospect of the young Chevalier's return
to England was regarded as wholly visionary; and the planting a garrison
in the dilapidated fortress of Carlisle, was deemed indifference to the
fate of his adherents who remained, unwillingly, and certain of their
doom. "The retreat from Derby was considered throughout England,"
observes Sir Walter Scott, "as the close of the rebellion: as a
physician regards a distemper to be nearly overcome, when he can drive
it from the stomach and nobler parts, into the extremities of the
body."[156]

The army, after marching from three o'clock in the morning until two in
the afternoon, arrived on the borders of the Esk. This river, which is
usually shallow, had already been swollen by an incessant rain of
several days, to the depth of four feet. It was, therefore, necessary to
cross it instantly, for fear of a continuation of the rain, and an
increase of the danger. The passage over the Esk was admirably
contrived; it could only have been effected by Highlanders. The cavalry
formed in the river, to break the force of the current, about
twenty-five paces above the ford where the infantry were to pass. Then
the Highlanders plunged into the water, arranging themselves into ranks
of ten or twelve a-breast, with their arms locked in such a manner as to
support one another against the rapidity of the river, leaving
sufficient intervals between their ranks for the passage of the water.
"We were nearly a hundred men a-breast," writes Lord George
Murray;[157] "and it was a very fine show. The water was big, and most
of the men breast-high. When I was near across the river, I believe
there were two thousand men in the water at once: there was nothing seen
but their heads and shoulders; but there was no danger, for we had
crossed many waters, and the ford was good; and Highlanders will pass a
water where horses will not, which I have often seen. They hold by one
another, by the neck of the coat, so that if one should fall, he is in
no danger, being supported by the others, so all went down, or none."

The scene must have been extremely singular. "The interval between the
cavalry," remarks an eyewitness, "appeared like a paved street through
the river, the heads of the Highlanders being generally all that was
seen above the water. Cavalry were also placed beneath the ford, to pick
up all those who might be carried away by the current. In an hour's time
the whole army had passed the river Esk; and the boundary between
England and Scotland was again passed."[158]

Lord George Murray had, on this occasion, assumed the national dress. "I
was this day," he says "in my philibeg." Well might he, in after times,
when reviewing the events of the memorable campaign of 1745, dwell with
pride on the hardihood of those countrymen from whom he was for ever an
exile when he composed his journal. "All the bridges that were thrown
down in England," he remarks, "to prevent their advancing in their march
forwards, never retarded them a moment." Nor was the philibeg assumed
merely for the convenience of the passage over the Esk. "I did not
know," writes Lord George, "but the enemy might have come from Penrith
by Brampton, so shunned the water of Eden, to have attacked us in
passing this water of Esk; and nothing encouraged the men more, than
seeing their officers dressed like themselves, and ready to share their
fate."

Some ladies had forded the river on horseback immediately before the
Highland regiments. These fair, and bold equestrians might have given
intelligence; but luckily they did not. The General who had provided so
carefully and admirably for the safety of his troops, knew well how to
temper discipline with indulgence. Fires were instantly kindled to dry
the men as they quitted the water. The poor Highlanders, when they found
themselves on Scottish ground, forgot all the vexation of their retreat,
and broke out into expressions of joy;--of short lived continuance among
a slaughtered and hunted people. It was near night; yet the bagpipes
struck up a national air as the last of the Highland host passed the
river: and the Highlanders began dancing reels, "which," relates Lord
George, "in a moment dried them, for they had held up the tails of their
short coats in passing the river; so when their legs were dry, all was
right." This day, forming an epoch in the sorrowful narrative of the
insurrection of 1745, was the birthday of Prince Charles, who then
attained his twenty-fifth year. Many mercies had marked the expedition
into England, fruitless as it had proved. After six weeks' march, and
sojourn, in England, amid innumerable enemies, threatened by two
formidable armies in different directions, the Jacobite forces, entering
England on the eighth of November, and quitting it on the twentieth of
December, had returned without losing more than forty men, including the
twelve killed at Clifton Wall. They had traversed a country well-peopled
with English peasantry, without any attacks except upon such marauders
as strayed from their main body.

As soon as the army had passed the river, the Prince formed it into two
columns, which separated; the one, conducted by Charles Edward, took the
road to Ecclefechan; the other, under the command of Lord George Murray,
marched to Annan. In the disposition of these routes, the principal
object was to keep the English in a state of uncertainty as to the
direction in which the Jacobite army intended to go, and the towns which
they purposed to occupy: and the end was answered; for no just notion
was given of the movements of the Highlanders until after the subsequent
junction of the two columns; and time was thus gained.

There being no town within eight or ten miles from the river Esk, the
army were obliged to march nearly all night. The column conducted by the
Prince had to cross mossy ground, under a pouring rain, which had
continued ever since the skirmish at Clifton Wall. The guides who
conducted Lord George's division led them off the road; this was,
however, a necessary precaution in order to shun houses, the lights from
which might have tempted the drenched and hungry soldiers to stray, and
take shelter. Then the hardy and energetic general of his matchless
forces first felt the effects of this laborious march in unusual
debility, and fever.

At Moffat, this column halted; and divine service was performed in
different parts of the town, all the men attending. "Our people,"
remarks Lord George, "were very regular that way; and I remember, at
Derby, the day we halted, as a battle was soon expected, many of our
officers and people took the sacrament."[159]

On the twenty-fifth of December, Lord George arrived at Glasgow, having
passed through the towns of Hamilton and Douglas, and here, on the
following day, Charles Edward also arrived, with the other column. Lord
Elcho, who had conducted the cavalry through Dumfries, preceded the two
great divisions. It was resolved to give the army some days' rest after
the excessive fatigue which the men had uncomplainingly sustained. The
spirits of Charles Edward were now recruited, and his example
contributed not a little to the alacrity and energy of his force. Small,
indeed, did it appear, when he reviewed it on Glasgow-green, and found
how little he had suffered during his expedition into England. Hitherto
Charles had carefully concealed his weakness; but now, hoping in a few
days to double his army, he was not unwilling to show with what a
handful of men he had penetrated into England, and conducted an
enterprise, bold in its conception, and admirable in its performance.

At Glasgow, the melancholy fate of the brave garrison in Carlisle became
known to the Jacobite army. Two days after the Prince had left, the Duke
of Cumberland invested it, and began to batter that part of the wall
which is towards the Irish gate. The governor of the Castle, Mr.
Hamilton, determined to capitulate even before a breach had been made in
the walls; and his proposal was vainly resisted by the brave Francis
Townley and others, who were resolved to defend themselves to the last
extremity. "They were in the right."[160] They might have held out for
several days, and perhaps obtained better terms; but the governor
persisted in surrendering to the clemency of King George, promised by
his inhuman and dishonourable son. Assurances of intercession were given
by the Duke of Cumberland, and the garrison of three hundred men
surrendered. On the Duke's return to London, it was decided by the
British government that he was not bound to observe a capitulation with
rebels. The brave, and confiding prisoners perished, twelve of the
officers by the common hangman, at Kennington; others, at Carlisle--many
died in prison. Their fate reflected strongly upon the conduct of
Charles Edward; but the general character of that young Prince, his
hatred of blood, his love of his adherents, prove that it was not
indifference to their safety which actuated him in the sacrifice of the
garrison of Carlisle. He was possessed with an infatuation, believing
that he should one day, and that day not distant, re-enter England; he
was surrounded by favourites, who all encouraged his predilections, and
fostered the hereditary self-will of his ill-starred race. The blood of
Townley, and of his brave fellow-sufferers, rests not as a stain on the
memory of Lord George Murray; and the Prince alone must bear the odium
of that needless sacrifice to a visionary future. "We must draw a veil,"
says the Chevalier Johnstone, "over this piece of cruelty, being
altogether unable either to discover the motive for leaving this three
hundred men at Carlisle, or to find an excuse for it."[161]

On arriving at Glasgow, the Prince sent a gentleman to Perth to procure
a particular account of the state of affairs in that part of the
country; and on finding that his forces were so widely scattered that a
considerable time must elapse before they could reassemble, he gave up
the hope of returning to England, and determined upon the sieges of
Edinburgh and Stirling. On the fourth of January he marched from Glasgow
to Bannockburn, where he took up his quarters; and Lord George Murray,
with the clans, occupied Falkirk. Before the twelfth of the same month,
General Hawley, who had now formed a considerable army in Edinburgh,
resolved upon raising the siege of Stirling, before which the trenches
were opened.

Lord George Murray was, however, resolved to make a strong effort to
prevent this scheme of General Hawley's from taking effect. Hearing that
there was a provision made of bread and forage at Linlithgow for General
Hawley's troops, he resolved to surprise the town and to carry off the
provisions. He set out at four o'clock in the morning; was joined by
Lord Elcho and Lord Pitsligo, with their several bodies of horse, and
before sunrise Linlithgow was invested. The Jacobites were disturbed,
however, in their quarters by a party of General Hawley's dragoons; and
a report which prevailed that another body of horse and foot were also
approaching, induced Lord George to return to Falkirk. On the following
day he returned to Stirling; and the clans were quartered in the
adjacent villages. The reinforcements which had been so long expected
from the north were now near at hand; so that they could scarcely fail
to arrive before an engagement began. The clans were augmented in
number, and what was almost of equal importance, they had regained
confidence and health on returning to their native land. All were in
high spirits at the prospect of an engagement.

The Prince employed the fifteenth day of the month in choosing a field
of battle; on the sixteenth he reviewed the army. The plan of the
engagement was drawn out by Lord George Murray, according to his usual
practice. The army of the insurgents amounted to nine thousand men. On
that evening he learned that General Hawley had encamped on the plain
between that town and the river Carron: upon which a council was called,
and it was resolved the next day to attack the enemy.

The sympathies of the modern reader can scarcely fail to be enlisted in
the cause of the Jacobites, who appear henceforth in the character of
the valiant defenders of their hills and homes, their hereditary
monarchy, their national honour and rights. Whatever an Englishman may
have felt on beholding the incursions of a Highland force in his own
country, the sentiment is altered into one of respect and of compassion
when he views the scene of the contest changed, and sees the hopeless
struggle fought on Scottish ground.

Never were two parties more strongly contrasted than the Hanoverians and
the Jacobites. The very expressions which each party used towards the
other, as well as their conduct in the strife, are characteristic of the
coarse insolence of possession, and the gallant contest for restoration.
Nothing could present a more revolting contrast than that between the
individuals who headed the armies of Government, and the unfortunate
Prince Charles and his brave adherents. In opposition to his generosity
and forbearance stood the remorseless vengeance of the Duke of
Cumberland. In comparison with the lofty, honest, fearless Lord George
Murray, was the low instrument of Cumberland, the detestable Hawley. One
blushes to write his name an English word. Succeeding General Wade,
whose feeble powers had become nearly extinct in the decline of age,
General Hawley was the beloved officer, the congenial associate of the
young and royal commander-in-chief, who even at his early age could
select a man without love to man, or reverence to God, for his General.
These two were kindred spirits, worthy of an union in the task of
breaking the noblest hearts, and crushing and enslaving the finest
people that ever blessed a land of sublime beauty. Perhaps, if one may
venture to make so strong an assertion, the General was more odious than
his patron. It is, indeed, no easy point to decide towards which of
these two notorious, for I will not call them distinguished men, the
disgust of all good minds must be excited in the greater degree. In
contempt for their fellow men, in suspicion and distrust, they were
alike. In the directions for Hawley's funeral, he wrote in his will:
"The priest, I conclude, will have his fee: let the puppy take it. I
have written all this with my own hand; and this I did because I hate
priests of all professions, and have the worst opinion of all members of
the law."

To this low and ignorant contempt for the members of two learned
professions, Hawley added an utter disregard of every tie of honour; he
was wholly unconscious of the slightest emotion of humanity; he revelled
in the terrors of power. The citizens beheld, with disgust, gibbets
erected on his arrival there, to hang up any rebels who might fall into
his hands: the very soldiers detested the General who had executioners
to attend the army. The generous nature of Englishmen turned against the
man, who, as it has been well remarked, "deserved not the name of
soldier." They gave him the nick-name of the "Chief Justice;" and hated
him as a man unworthy to cope with brave and honourable foes.

General Hawley had all the contempt, fashionable in those days, for
Highland valour. "Give me but two regiments of horse," he said, "and I
will soon ride over the whole Highland army." He quickly, however,
learned his mistake; his contempt was, therefore, changed into a
fiendish abhorrence, exhibited in the most horrible forms of unmitigated
revenge.

It was decided by Charles and his Generals, in a council held on the
evening preceding the battle of Falkirk, to attack the Hanoverian troops
by break of day. The Tor Wood, formerly an extensive forest, but much
decayed, lay between the two armies. The high road from Stirling to
Falkirk, through Bannockburn, passes through what was once the middle of
the wood. About eleven in the morning the Jacobite army was seen,
marching in two columns, and advancing to the rising ground. Scarcely
had they begun their march than the sky was overcast, and a violent
storm blinded their enemy, who were, on the other hand, marching with
their bayonets fixed; the fury of the tempest was such, that they could
hardly secure their pieces from the rain.

Lord George Murray, with his drawn sword in his hand, and his target on
his arm, conducted the Macdonalds of Keppoch. This clan regiment
advanced very slowly that they might keep their ranks until they had
gained possession of the ground they wanted; they then turned their
backs to the wind, and formed into the line of battle. The field which
they intended to occupy was skirted by a deep morass as they came foot
by foot, within pistol shot of the enemy.

Meantime, General Ligonier, with three regiments of dragoons, began to
move towards the Highlanders: whilst Lord George Murray, riding along
the ranks of the Macdonalds, was forbidding them to fire until he gave
orders. The English came at last, on full trot, almost close up to the
line: then Lord George Murray gave the word of command to fire; the
dragoons were instantly repulsed and fled back; upon which Lord George
commanded the Macdonalds to keep within ranks, and stand firm. A total
rout of the King's troops ensued; and the field of battle presented a
strange spectacle. The English troops were, during the whole of the
battle, severely incommoded by the storm of wind and rain, which almost
blinded the enemy; but, independent of this accidental cause, their
usual valour was, on this day, called into question. They fled in every
direction. This famous battle did not last more than twenty minutes from
the first fire of the Macdonalds to the retreat of the last regiment of
dragoons. Before it grew dark General Hawley gave orders that his tents
should be burned; he then retreated to Linlithgow.

Many brave English officers fell in this ill-conducted engagement, and
their defeat was attributed at once to the arrogant confidence of
Hawley, and to the courage and discipline of the Macdonalds of Keppoch,
who, under the skilful command of Lord George Murray, are considered to
have won the day. "If the bravery of the Macdonald regiments were put
out of view," observes Mr. Chambers, "it might be said that the storm
had gained the Jacobites the battle."

But the rain, which lasted during the whole of the battle, prevented a
full advantage of the defeat being taken. The Highlanders, who do not
use cartridges, were unable to load again, but were forced to have
recourse to their broadswords; they were, however, out-lined by one-half
of the enemy's infantry, and one of the battalions wheeling about, they
were thrown into disorder by the force of a flank fire. They retreated
up the hill, and before they could be rallied, the English, who could
not be prevailed upon to stand a second attack of the Highland
broadswords, had begun an orderly retreat. Had the whole of the
Jacobite army been at hand, to rush headlong upon the enemy the moment
they turned their backs, few of their infantry would have escaped being
killed or taken.[162]

Lord George Murray, advancing with the Atholl men, who had kept the line
in perfect order, pursued the retreating army towards Falkirk. He had
arrived at the foot of the hill just as the English troops entered the
town, which was at the distance of a musket-shot from the place where he
stood. It was then proposed by most of the officers to retire towards
Dunnipace, in order to shelter the men from the incessant rain; but Lord
George opposed this proposition. He had observed the disorder of the
English: "Let them not have time," he remarked, "to rally, and to line
the houses, and clean their guns, so as to defend the town of Falkirk;
there is not a moment to be lost." He concluded with the expression of
Count Mercy at the battle of Parma--"I will either lie in the town, or
in Paradise."

Prince Charles coming up at the instant, approved of the resolution. A
singular difficulty now occurred; there were no bag-pipes to inspirit
the men with a warlike air; the pipers, as soon as a battle began, were
in the practice of giving their pipes into the keeping of boys, who had
to take care of themselves, and often disappeared with the instruments.
"The pipers, who," as Lord George remarks, "were commonly as good men as
any," then charged with the rest. This circumstance, which might appear
trifling, was in fact the cause why the Macdonalds and other Clans had
not rallied from the first.[163] Such was the importance of the
national music at this critical moment. In ancient days the bards shared
the office of encouragement to the Clans. It was their part to stimulate
valour, and, before the battle began they passed from tribe to tribe,
giving exhortations, and expatiating on the dishonour of retreat. They
familiarized the people with a notion of death, and took from it, in one
sense, its sting. When their voices could no longer be heard, they were
succeeded by the pipes, whose wailing and powerful strains kept alive
the enthusiasm which languished when those notes ceased to be
heard.[164]

Lochiel, Lord Ogilvy, Colonel Roy Stewart, and several other chiefs,
followed Lord George Murray into the town. On the ensuing day Charles
and most of the army entered it. All were disappointed not to overtake
the enemy; and Lord George Murray has left on record proofs of his
bitter disappointment at the fruitless issue of this gallant encounter,
much of which he attributes to want of decision and arrangement. Early
on the morning of the battle, he had given the Prince a scroll of the
line of battle, which was approved; he had requested that it might be
filled in with the names of officers appointed to command. "I never," he
observes, "heard that there was any appointment made that day." When it
was agreed to march towards the enemy between twelve and one, he asked
the Prince whether, since there was no other Lieutenant-General there,
he should march at the head of the army? He was answered in the
affirmative, after which he never received any other instructions until
the action was over. The difficulties which Lord George had, therefore,
to encounter, without knowing who were to command in the different
stations; with only two aides-de-camp, both on foot, whilst his personal
enemies were near the Prince in the time of the action, and did little
to advise or suggest, are strongly insisted upon in his narrative. "I
believe," he adds, after firmly but dispassionately stating all these
unhappy mistakes, "that my conduct was unexceptionable, and that in the
advantages we gained I had a considerable share."[165]

The day succeeding the victory of Falkirk was passed by the insurgents
in burying the slain, and in collecting the spoils. A deep pit was dug
by the country people, into which the English soldiers and the Highland
clansmen were precipitated into one common grave. The former were easily
distinguished by the frightful gashes of the broad-swords on their
breasts and limbs. The tomb contained a heap of human bodies; and long
after the event the spot of this rude sepulchre might be traced by a
deep hollow in the field.[166]

Charles Edward had now arrived at another crisis of his singular
destiny. The fate of a single day had once more rendered him victorious,
but it requires a superior and matured judgment to profit by success.
"One thing is certain," remarks an eye-witness of this contest, and that
is, "that the vanquished will always have great resources in the
negligence of the victorious party."

The battle of Falkirk struck terror into every English heart, and the
panic of the Black Monday again spread like a contagion throughout the
country. After the retreat from Derby, the higher ranks of society in
England, who had betrayed an unwonted degree of alarm, concluded that
they had nothing more to fear even from "a band of men so desperately
brave who had done so much with such little means." The victory at
Falkirk was, therefore, received with redoubled alarm; and at court,
during a ball which was held instantly after the event, only two persons
appeared with calm and cheerful countenances. These were the King, whose
personal courage was undoubted, and General Cope, who rejoiced that
Hawley's failure might in some measure excuse his own.[167]

Under these circumstances, and being assured that the panic in Edinburgh
equalled that in London, Prince Charles was strongly advised to repair
to Edinburgh and to resume the possession of the capital. He hesitated,
and the delay proved fatal to his interests. There was no time to be
lost;--the conduct of Hawley had inspired universal contempt not only
for his abilities, but for his cowardice. "General Hawley," wrote
General Wightman to Duncan Forbes, "is much in the same situation as
General Cope, and was never seen in the field during the battle; and
everything would have gone to wreck in a worse manner than at Preston,
if General Huske had not acted with judgment and courage, and appeared
everywhere."

Lord George Murray remained at Falkirk with the Clans until apprised,
through the secretary Murray, that the Duke of Cumberland was expected
at Edinburgh on the twenty-eighth of the month; and that it was
Charles's intention to attack him as soon as he arrived at Falkirk. At
the first news of the project, Lord George seemed to approve of it; he
drew up a plan of the battle, which he submitted to the ardent young
Chevalier, who was delighted to think that he was to have to oppose the
Duke of Cumberland in person. But this hope was transient; for on the
very same evening, a representation, signed at Falkirk, by Lord George
Murray and all the commanders of Clans, begging him to retreat, was
presented to the disappointed and indignant Charles Edward. The great
desertions which were daily taking place since the battle, was made the
chief plea of this unexpected address; two thousand men, it was alleged,
had gone off since that action, whilst the army of the enemy was
reinforced. Some of the battalions were said to be one-third weaker than
before the engagement at Falkirk.

The Prince received this address with a dissatisfaction even more
apparent than that which he had shown at Derby, when persuaded to
retreat. He dashed his head against the wall with violence, exclaiming,
"Good God! have I lived to see this?" As the event showed, it had
perhaps been wiser to have risked the event of an action at that time,
than to have awaited the mournful catastrophe of Culloden. At length,
although he never could be brought to approve of the step, Charles gave
a reluctant and sorrowful consent to that which all his chieftains
called upon him to adopt. The burden of the censure which was afterwards
cast upon this decision, was thrown upon the Lieutenant-General. "I was
told," writes Lord George, "that I was much blamed for it. I really
cannot tell who was the first that spoke of it, but this I am sure,
every one of us were unanimously of the same opinion." The siege of
Stirling had proved, indeed, wholly unsuccessful; that very morning the
battery, although it had been long in preparation, was silenced in a few
hours after it began to play. It was therefore determined to abandon it;
and it was decided that the time of the army would be more profitably
employed in driving Lord Loudon from Inverness, and in taking the forts
in the north, than in a rash engagement, or a hopeless siege. The spirit
of the enterprise was, indeed, gone; otherwise such a retreat could
never have been proposed and entertained. It was, however, fully
determined on. The deepest dejection prevailed among the army when it
was announced.

The Prince still remained at Bannockburn. On the thirty-first of the
month it was determined to have a general review of the troops; the
retreat was not to begin until ten o'clock. Early in the morning Charles
Edward, still hoping that the desertions were not so numerous as had
been represented, and that the "odious retreat" might be prevented, came
out to view his troops. There was hardly the appearance of an army to
receive him. On hearing the decision of the Prince, the men had risen at
day-break and had gone off to the Frews, many of them having arrived by
that time at that ford. There was nothing to be done; Lord George
Murray, who had now joined the Prince from Falkirk, and who was
quartered with some troops in the town of Stirling, was summoned. The
Prince marched off with some of the chiefs and the few troops he had
with him, and Lord George brought up the rear. A great portion of the
artillery was left behind; the heaviest pieces being nailed up and
abandoned. The retreat was thus precipitately commenced, and presented a
very different aspect to the withdrawal of the Prince's troops from
Derby.

Of this disorderly and disreputable march, Lord George Murray knew
nothing until it was begun. The very morning on which it took place, the
church of St. Ninian's, where the powder was lodged, was blown up. Lord
George Murray was in his quarters when he heard the great noise of the
explosion, and thought it was a firing from the Castle. "My surprise,"
he thus writes, "is not to be expressed.[168] I knew no enemy was even
come the length of Falkirk; so that, except the garrison of Stirling
Castle, nothing could hurt us. I imagined they had sallied, and made the
confusion I observed. I shall say no more about this; a particular
account of it is wrote. I believe the like of it never was heard of."

The destruction of St. Ninian's tower is attributed by most historians
to the awkwardness of the Highlanders, in attempting to destroy their
ammunition. "I am apt to think it was an accident," observes Maxwell,
"or, at least, the design of some very private person, for there was no
warning given to any body to get out of the way. Nine or ten country
people, and five of the Jacobite soldiers, perished from the explosion;
and the Prince, over whose existence a special Providence appeared to
have watched, was within being hurt when the explosion took place."[169]

The Highland army was quartered on the first night of their march at
Doune and Dumblain; and assembled the next day at Crieff. Here Charles
Edward again reviewed them, and to his surprise found that they had
mostly re-assembled, and that scarcely a thousand of the troops were
wanting. The young Prince, who had reluctantly consented to the retreat
upon the supposition that he had lost one half of his army, reproached
Lord George Murray with having advised that step. Many were the censures
heaped upon the General for his councils; and it must be acknowledged,
that the caution apparent in his character was, in this instance,
carried to an extreme. He excused himself on the plea of his opinion
having been that of the whole army; but exonerated himself from any
participation in the sudden departure, or, as he calls it, "the flight"
from Stirling. At the council which was then called, heats and
animosities rose to a height which had never before been witnessed, even
among the vehement and discordant advisers of the Prince. After many
fierce altercations, it was determined that Prince Charles should march
to Inverness by the Highland road; and that Lord George Murray, with his
horse, and the low country regiments, should proceed along the coast
road, by Montrose and Aberdeen to the same place.

During the last few months the Marquis of Tullibardine had been
stationary, employing himself in the fruitless endeavour to stimulate
the tenantry and the neighbourhood to join the army of Charles Edward.
After leaving Bannockburn he remained at Polmaise, a small village in
Stirlingshire, until urged by Lord George to repair to Blair Castle, to
garrison that place; for which purpose, according to his opinion, a body
of fifty men would be sufficient. In his letters to his brother, Lord
George recommends a degree of severity towards deserters which was not
consonant with the mild temper of Tullibardine: "Those who have gone
home without a special licence on furlough, must be exemplarily
punished, either in their persons or effects, or in both; for when our
all depends, lenity would be folly." After urging the Marquis to send
off the men to Blair by dozens, he adds, "If rewards and punishments do
not, I know not what will. By the laws of God and man you have both in
your power and your person:" thus alluding to the Marquis's position as
a chief.

But these decisive measures were impracticable. "I was ordered by the
Duke of Atholl" writes David Robertson from Blair, to his brother, an
officer in Lord George's regiment, "to take up and imprison all
deserters; but I might as well attempt to move a mountain, being left
here without money, or men capable of being made officers." Nor was the
Marquis's power more effectual. The most sincere desire to comply with
every wish or counsel of Lord George Murray's, actuated, indeed, this
estimable man. He seems, from his letters, to have felt the most
unbounded and affectionate admiration for his brother; a sentiment only
inferior to his devotion to the Prince; yet we can perceive a covert
allusion in some of his injunctions to those frequent disagreements with
Charles, of which the Marquis was probably not ignorant. "Pray, take
care of our young master's glory as well as your own, and the King's
service, which ought to be dear to all honest men who are above selfish
views. Excuse me," adds the aged nobleman, whose anxieties and
sufferings were soon to close in a prison, "for not writing with my own
hand; since seeing you, excessive rheumatick pains has rendered it
almost impossible."

By Robertson of Strowan, a man noted for his eccentricities, a very
gloomy view was taken of the proceedings of the generals and courtiers
who surrounded Charles. He was ordered by the Prince to stay at home,
and to stop all the deserters who came in his way. He obeyed the
command; but obeyed with the observation, that "all were running to the
devil, except the Duke of Atholl and the Laird of Strowan." He hinted in
his letters, that he could disclose much to the "Duke," respecting his
nearest relations, both as to their dislike to himself, and their
disrespect to his Grace. The friendly intercourse between Lord George
and his brother continued, nevertheless, unabated. The former on one
occasion congratulates his brother on the valour of the "Atholl men," at
the battle of Falkirk. The encomium was answered by the Marquis's
complaints of the sad change in the spirit and loyalty of the Clan since
the defection of their "unnatural brother James" from the Stuart cause.
Nothing but vexations and disappointments occurred to the Marquis on his
return to Blair. His rents were refused by his tenants on account of
their expenditure in the Prince's service, and the country around Perth
was left exposed to the enemy. For some time entreaties from Lord George
to his brother, that he would send men to replace those who were killed
at Falkirk of the Atholl men, were met by excuses too well grounded in
reason. All the "corners of the country" were searched by the Marquis's
agent, to raise the men in an "amicable way," but without avail. The
exertions of poor Tullibardine, nevertheless, continued indefatigable,
notwithstanding the truly Scottish complaints, sciatica and rheumatic
pains. "I omit," he writes, "nothing that lies in my power that can
contribute towards the public service. God knows what dilatory and
imposing evasions one has to struggle with amid a multitude of
refractory people in these parts." At length the sum of three hundred
pounds was sent to him by Secretary Murray in order to maintain the
recruits whom he had raised on his own estates.

Eventually the seeds of dissension were sown between Lord George Murray
and his brother. Nor can we wonder, however we may grieve, at such an
event. The aim of the one was personal glory, fame. The whole heart of
the other was centred in the success of the cause. When he suspected
that the intentions of that brother, of whom he was so proud, were less
disinterested than his own, a mild, but earnest and mournful reproof was
wrung from his kind and trusting heart.[170]

Until, however, the seat of war was transferred to the paternal home of
Lord George Murray--whilst his immediate interests were spared--the
Marquis of Tullibardine evinced the most sincere confidence in his
intentions, and admiration for his talents. Afterwards, suspicions,
which have been in a great measure dissipated by the testimony of brave
and honourable men, might disturb the repose, but could not,
eventually, sully the fame of Lord George Murray. In thus reverting to
the domestic concerns of this celebrated man, the position of his lady
and children naturally recur. Lady George Murray had resided during the
troubles of 1745 at Tullibardine, in the parish of Blackford, in
Perthshire. The castle of Tullibardine had been fortified by a portion
of the Earl of Mar's army in 1715: but was taken by the Earl of Argyle.
Until after the close of the last insurrection it was inhabited by Lady
George Murray; but when the fate of her husband was involved in the
general wreck, the old building was suffered to fall to ruin. From this
residence, such of Lady George Murray's letters to her husband as are
preserved in the Atholl correspondence are dated. They are chiefly
addressed to the Marquis of Tullibardine, and form the medium of
correspondence between him and his brother. Here, too, she gave birth,
after the battle of Falkirk, to a daughter named Katherine; and during
the confinement which followed this event, her Ladyship's office as
correspondent was fulfilled by her young daughter, who bore the name of
Amelia. To the letter of this child, Lord Tullibardine replies with his
accustomed courtesy and kindly feeling. "With extreme satisfaction I
received," he says, "a mighty well wrote letter from you, which could
not but charm me with your endearing merit. I rejoice in being able to
congratulate your mother and you on the glorious share my brother George
has again had in the fresh victory which Providence has given the Prince
Regent over his proud Hanoverian enemies! Dear child, I thank you kindly
for enquiring after my health." To these near, and, as it appears,
cherished ties, Lord George was probably re-united during the march to
Crieff. But whatever of domestic happiness he may have enjoyed, its
duration was transient; and he passed on to a service full of the
hardships of war, but in which he was doomed never more to possess the
laurels of victory.

From Crieff, Lord George Murray marched to Perth, and thence by Montrose
and Aberdeen to Inverness. During the inclemency of the winter many of
the cavalry lost their horses; but the troopers being, as Sir Walter
relates, "chiefly gentlemen, continued to adhere with fidelity to their
ill-omened standards."[171]

A storm of snow rendered the march from Aberdeen both dangerous and
tedious. Lord George had above three hundred carriages of artillery to
convey, although a great portion of the artillery was sunk in the river
Tay, at Perth. In forming a junction at Inverness, the Prince had three
objects in view--to reduce Fort-William and Fort-Augustus, on one side;
on the other to disperse the army with which Lord Loudon had opposed him
in the north; lastly, to keep possession of the east coast, from which
quarter reinforcements and supplies were expected to arrive from France.
It was, therefore, decided that Lord George Murray should continue along
the eastern coast, in order to intercept Lord Loudon's army, in case it
came that way. On the sixteenth of February he crossed the river Spey,
and proceeded by Elgin, Forres, and Nairn, to Culloden, where he arrived
the day before the castle of Inverness surrendered to Charles. Lord
George Murray then gave the Prince an account of his march, of which
even this hardy General speaks as of a journey of inconceivable trouble
and fatigue. Here discussions took place, in which, as usual, the Prince
differed in some important points from his Lieutenant-General. The plan
which Lord George proposed was, to procure five thousand bolls of meal
in Bamff, Murray, and Nairn, laying a tax in an equal manner on these
several shires, and to send this supply to the Highlands; so that in
case the Duke of Cumberland, who was now proceeding northwards, should
follow them thither, they could have subsistence. To this scheme Charles
objected; and the meal was lodged in Inverness. His confidence in his
General, notwithstanding the incessant displays of his ability, was now
wholly undermined. Charles's affairs were indeed rapidly declining;
money, the principal sinew of war, was wanting. "His little stock might
have held out a little longer," observes Mr. Maxwell, "had it been well
managed; but it is more than probable that his principal steward was a
thief from the beginning." The Secretary Murray, against whom this
charge is levelled, was not, perhaps, more faithless when he
appropriated to himself the funds of his unfortunate master, than when
he planted in the breast of Charles, misgivings of his friends, and
abused his influence to mislead a confiding nature. There was, however,
no proof against Murray of Broughton of dishonesty, "but there were very
strong presumptions; and his underlings, who suspected that their
opportunity would not last long, made the best of it, and filled their
pockets with the public money."[172]

By the officers and soldiers at Culloden, Lord George was received with
joy. They regretted his absence, and were pleased to say that had he
been with them they should have "given a good account of Lord Loudon and
his troops, whom they had been prevented from pursuing at Inverness."
Lord George soon found that these professions were sincere. The Prince
was induced to send him to Dingwall, that he might assist the Earl of
Cromartie in pursuing Lord Loudon, who had passed up to Tain. This
scheme having proved impracticable, he returned to Inverness.

Meantime the county of Atholl suffered under the unparalleled cruelties
of the English soldiery. The Duke of Cumberland had visited that
interesting district; and it requires little more to be said, to
comprehend that beauty was turned to desolation; that crimes hitherto
unheard of among a British army reflected dishonour on the conquerors,
and brought misery to the conquered. On the sixth of February, 1746, the
Duke had arrived at Perth. His first orders were to seize the Duchess of
Perth, the mother of the Duke, and the Viscountess Strathallan, and to
carry them to a small, wretched prison in Edinburgh, where they remained
nearly a year. The Duke of Cumberland was succeeded at Edinburgh by his
brother-in-law, the Prince of Hesse, who had landed at Leith with five
thousand infantry and five hundred huzzars in the pay of England. These
were stationed in the capital, ready to swarm into the country to subdue
its brave inhabitants.

Whilst Lord George Murray was still at Inverness, he heard that his
cherished home, the territory of his proud forefathers, the scenes of
his youth, were ravaged by a detachment of Cumberland's army. The houses
of such gentlemen as had assisted Prince Charles were burned; and their
families, after receiving every species of indignity that could palliate
the guilt of a future revenge, and that could break honest hearts, were
turned out to perish on the hills with cold and hunger. The very nature
of Englishmen appears to have been changed during this most mournful,
most disgraceful warfare; and never did the British army sink so low in
morals, in humanity, as during the German yoke of a Prince whom one
rejects as a countryman.[173]

Lord George was instantly ordered to go to Atholl. Little could he
suspect the construction afterwards placed on his conduct, and the snare
which was laid for him by his enemies, in the events of the next few
weeks.

Lord George marched with unheard of dispatch towards Atholl. Already had
the Duke of Cumberland placed at different parts, in that district,
bands of the Argyleshire Campbells, to the amount of three hundred in
number. A thousand more, it was reported, were coming from the same
quarter; and it was Lord George's aim to intercept this reinforcement.
He set off, followed by his brave "Atholl-men," conducting his march
through byeways across the mountains; and in one march, day and night,
he traversed a tract of thirty miles. It was, however, impossible to
transport cannon through these almost impassable solitudes; yet, with a
force not exceeding seven hundred men, Lord George contrived to surprise
the enemy at these posts. He entered Atholl in the early part of the
night; his detachment then separated, and, dividing itself into small
parties, each gentleman whose home had been invaded took the shortest
road to his own house. The English soldiers were surprised in their
sleep, and, according to the Chevalier Johnstone, lay murdered in their
beds; but this is contradicted by many authorities.[174] These Highland
gentlemen attacked, during that night, thirty of the posts in question,
and all of them were carried. Few of the Government troops were put to
the sword; about three hundred were taken prisoners, and between two and
three hundred barricaded themselves in the Castle of Blair.[175]

The Marquis of Tullibardine had, it appears, been driven from that
fortress some time previously. Misfortune was not new to one who had
joined in the insurrection of 1715.

"As the late Rothiemurcus,[176] your father," he writes to a
friend,[177] in a letter to which he dared not even state his place of
residence, "showed me particular friendship and kindness on just such an
unfortunate occasion as the present, makes me hope you will have no less
regard for me in taking care of some small concerns of mine; which
consists in taking care of two of three of my servants and some
baggage, which I send you, rather than it should fall into enemies'
hands; so that if you cannot keep it, and get it sent me in time and
place convenient, it may be of some use to yourself, whom I esteem on
your family and father's account; though we have not had the occasion of
a personal acquaintance, which I hope may yet agreeably happen, in
whatever bad situation our affairs may at present appear; then I may
agreeably be able to return you suitable thanks for such an obligation
as will for ever oblige,

                         "Sir,
                   "Your affectionate humble servant and cousin,
                                                           "ATHOLL."

14th March, 1746.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Clan of Atholl was the largest that engaged in Prince Charles's
service, and numbered nearly fifteen hundred men. Lord George now
collected three hundred more of these vassals, and invested Blair
Castle. One difficulty he had in the deficiency of cannon; he obtained,
however, some field-pieces from Inverness, but his artillery was too
light to make an impression on the walls. There was an alternative,
which was, to reduce the castle by famine. Blair, as it happened, was
defended by a stout and sturdy veteran, Sir Andrew Agnew, who was
resolved only to yield upon extreme necessity his important charge.
During the siege, Lord George wrote on the subject of the enterprise to
his brother the Marquis of Tullibardine. The letter was answered in a
manner which shows that some want of candour had been evinced towards
the Marquis, who was regarded by all the Jacobites as the legitimate
owner of Blair. The epistle breathes the tone of mournful resentment.
"Since, contrary to the rules of right reason, you have been pleased to
tell me a sham story about the expedition to Blair," such are the
expressions used by the Marquis of Tullibardine, "you may now do what
the gentlemen of that country wish with the castle."[178] With the true
value of a high-born man for the memorials of his ancestors, the Marquis
grieved most for the loss of his great-great-grandfather's
grandfather's, and father's pictures. "They will be ane irreparable
loss." But every thing that could promote the public service was to be
resigned cheerfully and willingly for that cause. Not only did he
proffer the sacrifice of his castle, but he pointed out to his brother a
gate which had formerly been a portcullis, leading into it. This was at
that time half-built up, and boarded, with a hollow large enough to hold
a horse at rack and manger; and the Marquis suggested that this place
might be more easily penetrated than any other part of the wall, so as
to make an entrance into the vaulted room called "the Servants' Hall."

Whether or not Lord George decided to take advantage of this hint is
unknown. The attack made upon the Castle of Blair was conducted by him
in person, and was begun simultaneously with those headed by his
followers upon the various posts at Blairfitty, Kinachie side, and
several places near Blair. Upon the persons of the prisoners were found
copies of their orders from the Duke of Cumberland, and these were
signed by Colonel Campbell, and contained instructions to attack the
rebels wherever they should meet them; and in case of resistance, it was
the Duke's orders that _they should get no quarter_.[179] Stimulated by
these intercepted documents, Lord George, early on the morning of the
eighteenth of March, began the siege of Blair.

Many have been the accounts given, and various are the surmises upon the
motives of Lord George in not reducing the castle; but in estimating the
real difficulties of his undertaking, the testimony of a soldier and a
contemporary must be taken in evidence.

Blair was defended by a man of no ordinary character, Sir Andrew Agnew,
Lieutenant-Colonel of the Royal North British Fusiliers, who had been
sent with a detachment from Perth by the route of Dunkeld, through the
pass of Killicrankie, to take possession of the Castle.

When Sir Andrew first posted himself in Blair no apprehensions of a
blockade were entertained; and no fear of a supply of provisions being
cut off was suggested. The quantity of garrison provisions sent into it
was therefore extremely small, as was also the store of ammunition. In
regard to water, the garrison were in a better condition. A draw-well in
the castle supplied them after the blockade: previously, the inhabitants
had usually fetched the water they required from a neighbouring barn or
brook, which formed itself into a pool in front of the house.[180]

Blair Castle was then an irregular and very high building, with walls
of great thickness, having a great tower, called Cumming's Tower,
projecting from the west end of the front of the house, which faces the
north. This tower could be defended by musket shot from its windows.

Adjoining to the eastern gavel of the old house a new building had been
begun, but had only been carried up a few feet at the time of the siege.
Since the year 1745, great alterations have been made in this building,
which has been lowered and modernized, and the Cumming's Tower wholly
taken away.

It was between nine and ten in the morning when Lord George Murray
appeared before Blair Castle, and planted his men so as to prevent the
garrison from sallying out, or from getting in provisions.[181] The
castle was soon so completely invested by the advanced guard of the
Jacobites, that they fired from behind the nearest walls and enclosures
at the picket guard of the besieged. Some horses were hurriedly taken
into the Castle with a small quantity of provender; and in such haste,
that one of these animals was put into the lower part of Cumming's Tower
without forage or water.

There was a great entrance and staircase on the east side of the Castle;
this was now barricaded, and a small guard placed near it; the garrison,
consisting of two hundred and seventy men, were then parcelled out into
different chambers, with a charge not to fire until actually attacked. A
sort of platform was laid over the new building of the Castle, and an
ensign with a guard of twenty-five soldiers placed on this to defend
that part from serving as a lodgement to the besiegers. There was also a
guard placed over the draw-well, to prevent the water being drawn up
except at a certain hour in the morning. Besides the garrison, there
were within the Castle, about seven servants of the Duke of Atholl's;
namely, a land steward, a female housekeeper, three maid servants, a
gardener, and a gamekeeper.

Lord George Murray having established his quarters in the village of
Blair, about a quarter of a mile from the north of the castle, soon sent
down a summons to Sir Andrew Agnew, Bart. to surrender, intimating that
"he should answer to the contrary at his peril."

Now Sir Andrew was reputed to be a man of an outrageous temper; and the
Highlanders, who could face the Duke of Cumberland's dragoons, shrank
from encountering the sturdy, imperious old soldier. The only person,
therefore, who could be prevailed upon to carry the summons, was a
maid-servant from the inn at Blair, who being a comely Highland girl,
and acquainted with some of the soldiers, conceived herself to be on so
friendly a footing with them that she might encounter the risk. The
summons was written on a very dirty piece of paper; and corresponded
well with the appearance of the herald who conveyed it. Provided with
this, the young woman set out; as she approached the Castle, she waived
the summons over her head several times, and drawing near one of the
windows on the basement story, made herself heard. She was received by
the officers with boisterous mirth; they assured her that they should
soon visit the village, and her master's house, again, and drive away
the Highlanders. But, when entreated by the girl to take her into Sir
Andrew's presence, they all at first refused; at last the summons was
reluctantly conveyed to the commandant by a lieutenant more venturesome
than the rest. This emissary soon, however, fled from the presence of
the baronet, who broke out with the most vehement expressions of rage on
reading the contents of the paper; uttered strong epithets against Lord
George Murray, and threatened to shoot any messenger who might dare to
convey any future communication.

The young girl returned to Blair. As she drew near the village, she
perceived Lord George Murray, Lord Nairn, Clunie Macpherson and other
officers standing in the churchyard of Blair; and observed that they
were evidently diverted by her errand, and its result.[182]

From that time Lord George Murray made no attempt to hold any parley
with the garrison, but continued to blockade the Castle. His men were
even posted close up against the walls, wherever they could not be
annoyed with the musketry; particularly at that part on which the
scaffold guard was placed, where they stood, heaving up stones from time
to time, and uttering their jokes against the veteran, Sir Andrew
Agnew.[183]

"The cannon," as Lord George Murray observes in his narrative, "were not
only small, but bad. One of them seldom hit the Castle, though not
half-musket shot from it."

Various schemes were formed by Lord George during this siege, but many
obstacles concurred to check them. It had indeed been proposed before
Lord George left Inverness, to blow up Blair Castle; but not only had
Lord George no orders to attempt that, but there seemed also to be a
difficulty from the situation of the place.

It appeared at one time his intention, also, to have set the building on
fire. "On the eighteenth," writes Lord Elcho, "Lord George began to fire
against the Castle with two four pounders; and as he had a furnace along
with him, finding his bullets were too small to damage the walls, he
endeavoured by firing red hot balls to set the house on fire, and
several times set the roof on fire, but by the care of the besieged it
was always extinguished. A constant fire of small arms was kept against
the windows, and the besieged kept a close fire from the castle with
their small arms." "As the castle," continues the same writer, "is
situated upon rocky ground, there was no blowing it up; so the only
chance Lord George had to get possession of it was to starve it, which
he had some hopes of, as there were so many mouths in it." From this
opinion, the judgment of Lord George Murray, in some measure, differed.
"It might, I believe," he says, "have been entered by the old stables,
under protection of which the wall could have been undermined, if I had
been furnished with proper workmen." But all his efforts, in both these
schemes, proved ineffectual. The red hot balls lodging in the solid
timbers of the roof, only charred, and did not ignite the beams; and
falling down, were caught up in iron ladles brought out of the Duke of
Atholl's kitchen, and thrown into water. Disappointed in this attempt,
Lord George removed his few field-pieces to a nearer position on the
south side of the Castle, where, however, his firing produced no better
effect than heretofore.

Never was there an officer more insensible to fear than the defender of
Blair. Whilst Lord George was thus ineffectually battering the walls of
the house, Sir Andrew Agnew looked out over the battlements; and seeing
the little impression that was made on the walls, he exclaimed, "Hout! I
daresay the man's mad, knocking down his own brother's house."

Meantime the siege lasted nearly a fortnight, and the garrison were
reduced to the greatest extremity for provisions. One hope, however, the
commandant had, and that was of sallying forth, and escaping. The Castle
of Menzies was then occupied by Colonel Webster, who was posted there in
order to secure the passage of the river Tay; and, as an alternative to
starvation, a scheme was suggested for stealing out from Blair in the
night time, and marching through a mountainous part of country to join
the king's troops at Castle Menzies.

Whilst this project was in contemplation, the brave garrison were
threatened with a new danger. During the blockade, there was heard a
noise of knocking, seemingly beneath the floor of the Castle, as if
miners were at work in its deep vaults, to blow it up. All the inmates
of Blair thought such must indeed be the case: for Lord George had now
gained possession of a bowling-green near the Castle, and also of a
house in which the bowls were kept: from this bowl-house a subterranean
passage might easily have been dug to the very centre of the ground
underneath the building, and a chamber or mine formed there for holding
barrels of gunpowder, sufficient to complete the work of destruction.
This scheme must have occurred to the mind of Lord George Murray, who
was born at Blair, and well acquainted with its construction. His
objections to pursue it appear, as has been stated, to have been
perceived and controverted by the Marquis of Tullibardine. They arose,
as he has himself declared, and as the English also appear to have
considered, from his want of workmen to perform the attempt. The plan of
undermining was not thought practicable; and the noise which so greatly
alarmed the garrison was proved to be only the reverberation of strokes
of an axe with which a soldier was cutting a block of wood which lay on
the floor of one of the uppermost rooms. The most unfavourable
suspicions were, however, eventually affixed to Lord George's neglect of
this mode of attack. Whether such conduct proceeded, on his part, from
an aversion to destroy the home of his youth, and his birthplace;
whether he had still hopes of reducing Sir Andrew to capitulate; or
whether, as it has been often vaguely asserted, a secret agreement
existed between himself and James, Duke of Atholl, that the Castle
should be saved, can only be determined by a far closer insight into
motives than human power can obtain. We may accord to Lord George
Murray, without a blemish on his fidelity, a pardonable reluctance to
level to the dust the pride of his family; that every effort was made to
subdue Blair, except the last, is evident from the testimony of all
contemporary historians.

Meantime the garrison had one source of confidence in their extremity,
on which sailors are more apt to reckon than landsmen. They trusted to
the _luck_ of their commandant. Never had the stout veteran who had
fought, in 1706, at Ramilies, been either sick, or wounded. He had never
been in any battle that the English did not win. Yet it was deemed
prudent not to allow any means of aid to be neglected, in so pressing a
danger as the state of the siege presented.

The Earl of Crawford was then supposed to be at Dunkeld, having the
command both of the British troops and of a body of Hessians who had
lately been marched from Edinburgh. It was resolved to send to that
nobleman for aid. The Duke of Atholl's gardener, a man named Wilson,
undertook that dangerous embassy; he was charged with a letter from Sir
Andrew to the Earl, and was allowed to take his choice of any horse in
the Castle.[184]

Before Sir Andrew and his starving garrison could gain intelligence of
the fate of Wilson, or could have heard the result of his enterprise, a
strange reverse in their affairs took place. On the morning of the first
of April, not a single Highlander was to be seen by any of the guards on
duty. All had vanished; and a visit from the young woman from the inn at
Blair shortly followed their disappearance. From her, the garrison heard
that Lord George had, in fear of the arrival of troops from Dunkeld,
suddenly withdrawn with all his followers. The old Sir Andrew,
nevertheless, fearful of some stratagem, would not allow his garrison to
sally out: they were shut up until the following day, when the Earl of
Crawford appeared before the castle, and relieved all fears. The
officers and soldiers were then drawn out, with Sir Andrew at the head
of it. "My Lord," cried the old soldier, "I am very glad to see you;
but, _by all that's good_, you are come too late, and we have nothing to
give you to eat!" To which Lord Crawford answered courteously; and
laughing, begged of Sir Andrew to partake of such provisions as he had
brought with him. That day Sir Andrew and the Earl, and their officers,
dined in the summer-house of the garden at Blair, in high spirits at the
result of the siege.

The disappearance of Lord George Murray was soon explained; nor can the
statement of those reasons which induced him to abandon the siege of
Blair be given in a more satisfactory manner than as they were stated by
Lord Elcho; to whom they must have appeared satisfactory, otherwise he
would not have left so clear and decisive a testimony in favour of Lord
George Murray's motives. It is worthy of remark, that Lord Elcho's
statement agrees in every particular with that addressed some years
afterwards by Lord George to Mr. Murray of Abercairney, and now
preserved in the Jacobite Memoirs by Forbes.[185]

"On the twenty-fourth of March, the Hessians from Perth and Crieff moved
to its relief. They encamped the first night at Nairn House, and next
night at Dunkeld, and there was some firing betwixt them and a party of
Lord George's across the river. Those that marched from Crieff encamped
at Tay Bridge on the twenty-seventh. Upon this motion of the Hessians,
Lord George sent an express to the Prince, to tell him that if he would
send twelve hundred men, he would pitch upon an advantageous ground and
fight them. The Prince sent him word he could not send him them in the
way his army was then situated. On the thirty-first the Earl of Crawford
marched with St. George's Dragoons, five hundred Hessians, and sixty
Hussars, and encamped at Dawallie, four miles north of Dunkeld, and next
day they advanced to Pittachrie. Both these days Lord George had several
skirmishes with the hussars; but although he laid several snares for
them, he never could catch but one of them, who was an officer and a
Swede, who had his horse shot under him. Lord George used him very
civilly, and sent him back with a letter of compliment which he wrote to
the Prince of Hesse. On the first of April Lord George Murray drew his
men up in battle opposite to Lord Crawford at Pittachrie, and then
retreated before him, in order to draw him into the pass of
Killicrankie; but Lord Crawford never moved, but sent for reinforcements
to the Prince of Hesse. Lord George, upon hearing of the march of that
reinforcement to sustain Lord Crawford, and that the body of Hessians
from Lay Bridge were marching to Blair by Kinachin, quitted the country
and marched his men to Strathspan, and from thence to Speyside. He
himself went to Inverness, where he found his enemies had persuaded the
Prince that he might have taken Blair Castle if he had had a mind, but
that he had spared it because it was his brother's house; and in short
they made the Prince believe, that in the letter he had wrote to the
Prince of Hesse, he had engaged to betray him the first opportunity; and
that by the Prince of Hesse and his brother's means, he was entirely
reconciled to the government. What Mr. Murray had insinuated to the
Prince about Lord George, on his first coming to Perth had made such an
impression, that the Prince always believed it, notwithstanding Lord
George's behaviour was such (especially in action) as to convince the
whole army of the falsity of such accusations. However it opened his
mind upon the matter of the Irish officers, so far as to make some of
them promise to watch Lord George's motions, particularly in case of a
battle, and they promised the Prince to shoot him, if they could find he
intended to betray him."

From the following letter addressed by Lord George Murray to his brother
the Marquis of Tullibardine, it is evident that he had had it in
contemplation during some time, to abandon the siege of Blair, and that
the sudden appearance of the body of Hessians six thousand strong,
within a day's march of Blair, was not the only cause of his raising a
siege which every one acknowledges must have terminated in favour of the
besiegers within a few days.

                                        "Blair, 29th of March, 1746.

    "Dear Brother,[186]

    "I received your letter of the 26th; I am sorry you seem to think I
    told you a sham story (as you express it) about our expedition here.
    I told you we were to endeavour to take possession of Castle Grant,
    and try to hinder that Clan taking party against us; this was done
    so far as in our power. I also told you if we could contrive to
    surprise any of the parties in this country we might attempt it; but
    that depended so much upon incidents, that my very hopes could not
    reach so far as we performed. Secrecy and expedition was our main
    point, once we resolved upon the thing, which was not till I met
    Clunie and Sheen in Badenoch. If the greatest fatigues, dangers, and
    hard duties deserve approbation, I think some thanks are due to us,
    and from none more than yourself; for my own part, I was once
    seventy hours without three of sleep; but we undergo all hardships
    for the good of common cause. You will ever find me, dear brother,
    your most affectionate brother and faithful servant,

                                                    "GEORGE MURRAY."

    "I am so ill supported with men, money, and every thing else, our
    people here have no pay, that after all our endeavours, I'm afraid
    we must abandon this country without the Castle."

This letter brought the following characteristic reply. It is dated from
Inverness, whither the Marquis had repaired.[187]

    "Brother George.

    "This evening I had yours of yesterday's date. As to any difference
    betwixt you and I, without prejudice to passed expedition and
    secrecy mentioned, at meeting it must be discussed the best way we
    can, since lately behaving according to dutiful sentiments, nobody
    is more satisfied than I am of your indefatigable activity for the
    public service. Had you sent me your letters to the Secretary, who I
    am very sorry to say is at Elgin dangerously ill, or any other of
    the Ministry to whom expresses were addressed, I should have
    directly endeavoured getting the most satisfactory answers could be
    sent your pressing reale demands, which are not well understood if
    much regarded by everybody here; I am informed by Mr. Hay and
    Cruben, who were just now with me, that all the men who were with
    you have been fully paid till Wednesday last; and that with some
    necessary foresight and pains, you might have had a good deal of
    provisions from below the Pass, whilst that expedient was
    practicable; since you might have naturally known that money cannot
    be soon sent from hence, but on an absolute necessity; you know that
    meal can be still brought you from Kiliwhimen. With that I wrote to
    you the twenty-sixth, in case the enemy could not be otherwise
    forced out of my house, I gave Sir Thomas Sheridan an account to be
    sent to you of a secret passage into it, which is here again
    transmitted, in case of making any advantageous use of it has been
    hitherto neglected; was it not hoped by this time you have near got
    the better of these obstinate intruders into the Castle, at any rate
    I should go myself and try if I could not usefully help towards
    reducing them to a speedy surrendering of such unfortified, though
    thick old walls as it is composed of. Pray continue your accustomed
    vigilance on such a valuable occasion as will render you dear to all
    honest men, as well as particularly giving me an opportunity of
    showing with what esteem I am, dear brother,

                             Your most affectionate brother,
                                       And most humble servant."
                                                     [No Signature.]

    "Inverness, 30th of March, 1746."

In addition to the testimony of Lord Elcho, that of Maxwell of
Kirkconnel, has considerable weight in Lord George Murray's favour.

"He was censured," observes this excellent writer, "by his enemies as
being too tender of a family seat.[188] As I do not know the situation
of this Castle, I cannot determine whether it was in his power to blow
it up, or whether he had time to do it after he was informed of the
march of the Hessians. But he has been so calumniated by the Secretary
and his creatures, that nothing less than a direct proof ought to have
any weight against him. In this case it is absurd to suspect him,
because the family seat could never be in danger. If it was in his power
to blow it up, he had only to acquaint the Governor when the mine was
ready, and let him send one of his officers to view it; the Governor
would certainly have prevented the effecting it and saved the Castle."

"About the same time that the siege of Blair was abandoned, that of Fort
William was also raised. It was found, indeed, difficult to make the
Highlanders perform the regular duties of a siege; extremely brave in an
attack, when allowed to fight in their own way, they were not possessed
of that steady valour which is necessary to maintain a post; and it was
not easy to keep them long in their quarters, or even at their posts,
without action."[189]

The loss of Blair, and the failure of the siege of Fort William, were
followed by other misfortunes. Fatal mistakes in the vain endeavour to
retrieve a sinking cause ensued. In the midst of his adversity, the
young and gallant adventurer, for whom so much blood was shed, supported
his spirits in a wonderful manner, and acted, with a heavy heart, the
part of the gay and prosperous. He gave balls at Inverness, and even
danced himself, which he had declined doing when in the midst of his
prosperity at Edinburgh. Those who looked only on the surface of affairs
were deceived by his appearance of happiness; but the well informed knew
too well that the crisis which was to end the struggle was rapidly
approaching. To complete the sad summary of disappointments and
misfortunes, it was now ascertained that the expedition from Boulogne,
and that from Dunkirk, with which the false-hearted French had so long
amused the unfortunate Jacobites, were entirely and perfidiously
relinquished.

Lord George Murray, meantime, was ordered to march to Inverness. He was
now worn with fatigues, and by the protracted anxieties of his
situation. Foreseeing, as he must have done, many of the dangers and
difficulties of the contest; observing, on the one hand, his eldest
brother, the Marquis of Tullibardine, the adherent of the Stuarts,
proscribed, impoverished, a nominal proprietor of his patrimonial
estates; on the other, beholding his second brother, the actual Duke of
Atholl, cherished by Government, prosperous, honours showered down upon
him; what impulses less strong than that of a generous, and fixed
principle of fidelity could have maintained his exertions in a service
so desperate as that in which he had engaged?

The great deficiency in Lord George Murray's character was the absence
of hope; but, independent of that vital defect, his attributes as a
soldier and a general cannot fail to excite admiration. His exertions
were unparalleled; besides the marching and fatigue that others had to
undergo, he had the vast responsibility of command. "Though others were
relieved and took their turns," he remarks, "I had none to relieve." On
first assuming the command, he received and despatched every express
himself; and saw the guards and sentinels settled. In gaining
intelligence he was indefatigable; and his discipline was such that the
country suffered but little from the visitations of his well-governed
forces. But the time was fast approaching when his great abilities,
which never ceased to be acknowledged by the whole army, his fortitude,
and personal valour were to be put to the severest test.

On the third of April, Lord George Murray joined Charles Edward at
Inverness. On the eleventh intelligence was received that the Duke of
Cumberland, who had been stationed for some time at Aberdeen, was
marching towards Inverness. At first the intelligence of the Duke's
approach was received with acclamations of joy; but the circumstances
under which the battle of Culloden was eventually fought, and the
fatigues and impediments by which it was prefaced, changed that
sentiment into one of distrust and despondency.[190]

Upon receiving intelligence of the Duke's approach, expresses were sent
in all directions in order to re-assemble the Jacobite forces. Those
troops which had been at the siege of Fort William were on their march
to Inverness; but Lord Cromartie and his detachment were still at a
great distance; the Duke of Perth and Lord John Drummond were at
Spey-side, with a considerable body of men and all the horse. These were
ordered to retire as Cumberland's army approached. Unhappily, many of
the Highlanders, it being now seed time, had slipped away to their
homes, and it was, indeed, no easy task to allure them back. The
influence of Lord George Murray over the forces continued, nevertheless,
unabated. His mode of managing this fine, but rude people, was well
adapted to his purpose, and proceeded from an intimate knowledge of
their character. "Fear" he considered as necessary as "love." "I was
told," he remarks, "that all the Highlanders were gentlemen, and never
to be beaten, but I was well acquainted with their tempers." Their
chiefs even inflicted personal chastisement upon them, which they
received without murmurs when conscious of an offence. But they would
only receive correction from their own officers, and never would the
chief of one Clan correct even the lowest soldier of another. "But I,"
observes Lord George, "had as much authority over them all as each had
amongst his own men; and I will venture to say that never an officer
was more beloved of the whole, without exception, than I was." At any
time when there was a post of more danger than another, Lord George,
possessing as he did this unbounded influence over the minds of his
countrymen, found it more difficult to restrain those who were too
forward, than in finding those who were willing to rush into peril.

On Sunday morning, the thirteenth of April, it became a matter of
certainty among the Jacobite forces that the enemy had passed the Spey.
On the following day, Lochiel joined the army; the Duke of Perth also
returned, and the Prince and his forces assembled on an open moor, near
Culloden. Many of the officers suggested that it would be desirable to
retire to a stronger position than this exposed plain, until the army
were all collected, but the baggage being at Inverness, this scheme was
rejected. The experienced eye of Lord George Murray soon perceived that
the ground which had been chosen was ill-adapted for the Highland mode
of warfare, and he proposed that the other side of the water of Nairn
should be reconnoitred. But objections were made to any change of
position; and, situated as Lord George now was, distrusted by the
Prince, and, perhaps, in some measure by others, since the failure at
Blair, he was in no condition to contest so important a point. It was
afterwards attempted to venture an attack by night. To this proposition
not only the Prince, but Lord George and most of the other officers were
at first favourable: but, in the evening, it being generally understood
that there was no provision for the subsistence of the men the next day,
a circumstance attributable to the negligence of the persons employed
for the purpose at Inverness, a number of men dispersed in search of
food. The forces being thus reduced, Lord George objected, in concert
with others, to the projected night march; but Charles Edward, trusting
to the bravery of his army, and being for fighting on all occasions, was
determined on the attempt. "What he had seen them do, and the justice of
his cause, made him too venturous."[191] The attack was, therefore,
agreed upon, and Lord George commanding the rear, after marching nearly
six miles, found that it would be impossible to attack the enemy before
day-break, and, therefore, gave it up, and returned to Culloden about
five in the morning.

Fatigued and hungry, the army awaited the approach of the English
forces. It was between ten and eleven in the morning when they drew up
on the moor, and were placed in order of battle by O'Sullivan. Again
Lord George observed to that officer, that the ground was unfavourable:
the reply was, that the moor was so interspersed with moss and deep
earth, that the enemy's horse and cannon could be of little service to
them; and that it was therefore well selected. By this time the young
and unfortunate Master of Lovat had joined the forces, but Lord
Cromartie was still, by a fatal mistake, absent; and Macpherson, of
Clunie, was at three or four miles distance, marching with all possible
expedition towards Culloden. The stragglers and others were also
collecting, so that, as Lord George conjectured, the army would have
been increased by two or three thousand more men that night, or the
next day. Stimulated by this reflection, he again looked wistfully to
the position beyond the water, and considered that if they passed there,
they would probably leave the moors to the enemy, and occupy a better
post. But he was overruled.

       *       *       *       *       *

"I shall say little," writes Lord George Murray, in his journal, "of
this battle, which was so fatal." In a memoir, written by Colonel Ker,
of Gradyne, an officer of distinguished military reputation, a minute
and animated account is, however, given of all the incidents of the
eventful fifteenth of April.

Charles Edward having with some difficulty procured some bread and
whiskey at Culloden, reposed for a short time after marching all night.
In the morning intelligence was brought him that the enemy were in
sight. Whilst the army was forming, Colonel Ker was sent to reconnoitre
the enemy. On returning, he informed the Prince and Lord George Murray,
who was then with him, that the enemy were marching in three columns,
with their cavalry on the left, so that they would form their line of
battle in an instant. The Prince then ordered his men to draw up in two
lines, and the few horse which he had were disposed in the rear towards
the wings; the cannon was to be dispersed in the front; this was brought
up with difficulty from the want of horses. The ground which had been
occupied the day before was too distant for the army to reach; so that
they were drawn up a mile to the westward with a stone enclosure which
ran down to the water of Nairn, on the right of the first line.

The Highland soldiers, many of whom had been summoned from their sleep
among the woods of Culloden, were aroused from among the bushes, and
came drowsy, and half-exhausted to the field; yet they formed themselves
into order of battle with wonderful dispatch. Unhappily no council of
war was held upon the plain of Culloden in the hurry of that day. In
addition to the confusion, and want of concert which this omission
produced, was a still more injurious circumstance. The army, as has been
related, was drawn up in two lines; Lord George commanded the first,
which was composed of the Atholl brigade. This regiment was placed by
Lord George on the right of the line: unfortunately, the Clan Macdonald,
proud and fiery, claimed the precedence. They grounded their assertion
of right to the usage of time immemorial; and to their having had it
during the two previous battles. Lord George, on the other hand,
uncompromising as usual, insisted that in those actions even, his Atholl
men had the pre-eminence. The Prince, unable to decide, persuaded the
chief of the Macdonalds to waive his claim; but the pride of the Scotch
is never subdued; and whilst Macdonald yielded, their men were offended
and disgusted with his compliance.

The Duke of Cumberland formed his line of battle at a great distance,
and marched in battle order until he came within cannon shot, when he
halted, and placed his artillery in different parts in the front. His
army, to use a military phrase, outwinged that of Charles, both to the
right and left, without his cavalry.[192]

It is not, as Lord George Murray observes, "an easy task to describe a
battle." Most officers are necessarily taken up with what is near them,
and the confusion, noise, and agitation effectually impede observation.
The commencement of the battle of Culloden was obscured by a thick fall
of hail and snow, and on this occasion the tempestuous climate of
Scotland favoured her enemies, for the Prince's army faced the wind, and
encountered the snow-storm in their faces. It was expected that the Duke
would begin the attack; and a party of his horse were sent during the
interval to reconnoitre the Jacobite army. When they came within cannon
shot, loud hurras were heard on both sides; and voices (soon for ever to
be silenced) sent up to Heaven expressions of exultation and defiance.
The young Chevalier, whilst awaiting that event, rode along the lines to
encourage his men, placing himself in a post of danger, in which one of
his servants was killed by his side. After some few minutes of solemn
expectation, Lord George Murray, who commanded the right of the army,
sent Colonel Ker to the Prince to know if he should begin the attack? an
answer in the affirmative was returned. As the right was farther distant
than the left, Colonel Ker went first to the Duke of Perth who commanded
the left, and ordered him to begin; he then rode along the field until
he came to the right line, where Lord George Murray received from him a
similar command. The Prince then placed himself behind the centre of the
army, having the whole of his forces under his eye, and thus being able
to send orders on all exigencies.

The cannon of Prince Charles was first heard. It was returned with a
firing from the enemy of grape shot, which did great execution.

The Highlanders, who were forbidden to move until the word of command
was given, suffered that fire very impatiently. Some of them threw
themselves flat on the ground, and a few gave way and ran off.[193] The
artillery of the enemy was very well served; that of the Jacobites was
managed by common soldiers, the cannoniers belonging to one battery
being absent. The contest was in every way unequal; yet the brave
insurgents, although ready to drop with fatigue, seemed to forget all
their weariness and hunger when the enemy advanced.

At length, after some preliminary manoeuvres, the Prince sent orders
to Lord George Murray to march up to the enemy. It seemed, indeed, high
time to come to a close engagement; for the cannonading of the enemy,
which was directed chiefly towards the place which the Prince occupied
among the cavalry, was very destructive; yet still Lord George delayed
the attack, judging, as it is supposed, that the adversaries were still
at too great a distance, and that the strength of his men would be
exhausted before they could reach them. There appears also to have been
another reason for the delay; Lord George had, on his right, a
farm-house, and some old enclosure walls, which the enemy now occupied;
and he is conjectured to have been waiting until the Duke of
Cumberland's army came up to these walls, which would prevent him being
flanked by the dragoons, who were, he observed, mostly on the left. But
the Duke did not advance. The Highlanders, who were impatient at the
delay, called out loudly to be led on; and at last he gave the command
to attack.

His orders were obeyed. As his line began to move, the enemy began a
smart fire, which played chiefly upon the Atholl men, and was kept up by
a detachment of Campbells, who were stationed behind the enclosure
walls. It was the custom of the Highlanders to give a general discharge
of their fire-arms, and then to rush, sword in hand, upon their foes:
and the only chance of a victory for their party that day, was a general
shock of their whole line at once; for the fury and valour of these
northern warriors produced results almost incredible. Unhappily, several
circumstances destroyed this advantage. The two armies were not exactly
parallel to each other, the right of Prince Charles's being nearer to
the foe than the left. The impetuosity of the Highlanders was such, that
they broke their ranks before it was time to give their fire; their
eagerness to come up with an enemy that had so greatly the advantage of
them at such a distance, made them rush on with such violence, and in
such a confusion, that their fire-arms were of little service.[194]
This, it appears, was the disadvantage which Lord George had
apprehended. But there was still another inconvenience: the wind, which
had favoured the Jacobites at Falkirk, was now against them. They were
buried in a cloud of smoke, and felt their enemies without seeing them.
In spite of all these obstacles they went, sword in hand, and broke the
first line of the enemy; but the second advancing, and firing on them,
they gave way, leaving, says one who beheld the terrific scene, "many
brave fellows on the spot." The rout, which began on the right of the
army, soon became general. The right line was, in fact, beaten before
the centre could advance to support it: and the centre of the army gave
way, whilst the Macdonalds, who were advancing on the left, seeing
themselves abandoned on the right, and exposed to be flanked by enemies
who had nothing to oppose them in front, retired also.[195]

Lord George Murray behaved with incomparable valour, as indeed did the
whole of the line which he commanded, which was received by the enemy
with bayonets. These were the more destructive, as the Highlanders would
never be at the trouble, on a march, to carry targets. Yet the Duke's
line of battle was broken in several places, and two pieces of cannon
were taken.[196] The brave troops whom Lord George commanded marched up
to the very point of the bayonets, which they could not see until they
were upon them, on account of the smoke which was driven in their faces.
As the first line of the English army was broken, and as others were
brought up to their relief, some cannon, charged with cartouch shot from
their second line, caused Lord George Murray's horse to start and plunge
so much, that he thought the animal was wounded: he quitted his
stirrups, and was thrown. "After thus being dismounted, I brought up,"
writes Lord George, "two regiments of our second line, who gave them
fire, but nothing could be done; all was lost."[197] The only good
effect of the reinforcement was to arrest for a while the pursuit of the
cavalry, and thus to save many lives. The field of battle was soon
abandoned to the fury of an enemy, whose brutal thirst for vengeance
increased as the danger and opposition diminished. Some may consider
that the day of Culloden was a day of disgrace to the Highlanders; but
to them it was an event of honour, compared with the discredit which it
brought upon their foes. To England was the disgrace. It was, at all
events, even if we measure the standard of honour by the degree of
military success, an inglorious victory. Independent of the inequality
of numbers, was the inequality of circumstances; but greater, in many
senses, on this occasion, were the conquered, than their conquerors.

The Prince, seeing his army entirely routed, was at length prevailed
upon to retire. Most of his horse soldiers assembled round his person;
and he rode leisurely, and in good order, for the enemy advanced very
leisurely over the ground. "They made," observes Maxwell, "no attack
where there was any body of the Prince's men together, but contented
themselves with sabering such unfortunate people as fell in their way,
single and disarmed." "As the Duke's corps," Lord Elcho relates,
"continued to pursue in order of battle, always firing their cannon and
platoons in advancing, there were not so many people taken or killed as
there would have been had they detached corps to pursue; but every body
that fell into their hands got no quarter, except a few whom they
reserved for public punishment."

In the flight of the Prince's army, most of the left wing took the road
to Inverness; the right wing crossed the water of Nairn, and went to
Ruthven of Badenoch; the rest, to the number of five hundred, mostly
officers, followed the Prince into Stratherick, where he had stopped
about four miles from the field of Culloden. Of the Prince's conduct
after the battle, a very painful impression is given by Lord Elcho. "As
he had taken it into his head he had been betrayed, and particularly by
Lord George Murray, he seemed very diffident of everybody except the
Irish officers; and he appeared very anxious to know whether he had
given them all higher commissions than they had at their arrival, on
purpose that they might get them confirmed to them upon their return to
France. He neither spoke to any of the Scots' officers present, nor
inquired after any of the absent. Nor, indeed, at any of the preceding
battles did he ever inquire after any of the wounded officers. He
appeared very uneasy as long as the Scots were about him; and in a short
time ordered them all to go to Ruthven of Badenoch, where he would send
them orders; but before they had rode a mile, he sent Mr. Sheridan after
them, to tell them that they might disperse, and everybody shift for
himself the best way he could. Lord George Murray and Lord John Drummond
repeated the same orders to all the body of the army that had assembled
at Ruthven. The Prince kept with him some of Fitzjames's Horse, and went
that night to a house in the head of Stratherick, where he met Lord
Lovat and a great many other Scots' gentlemen, who advised him not to
quit the country, but to stay and gather together his scattered forces.
But he was so prejudiced against the Scots, that he was afraid they
would give him up to make their peace with the Government; for some of
the Irish were at pains to relate to him, in very strong terms, how the
Scots had already sold his great-grandfather to the English: and, as he
was naturally of a suspicious temper, it was not a difficult matter to
persuade him of it. And he always believed it until the fidelity of the
Highlanders shown to him during the long time he was hid in their
country, convinced him and everybody else of the contrary."[198]

This history of distrust and ingratitude is, however, to be contrasted
with very different statements. When the Prince heard from Colonel Ker,
after the battle, that Lord George Murray had been thrown from his
horse, but was not wounded, Charles, in the presence of all the officers
who were assembled around his person, desired Colonel Ker to find out
Lord George, and to "take particular care of him." Nor was there, among
the whole number of those writers who witnessed the battle of Culloden,
a dissentient voice with regard to the bravery of their
Lieutenant-General and to the admirable disposition of his troops. Had
he, like Lord Strathallan, sought and found his fate upon the field of
battle, his memory would have been exalted into that of a hero.

Two days after the defeat, the Duke of Perth, the Marquis of
Tullibardine, Lord George Murray, Lord Ogilvie, Lord Nairn, and several
other chieftains and officers met at Ruthven in Badenoch, and discussed
the events which had ended in the ruin of their cause. They were
unanimous in concluding that the night attack, upon which many persons
insisted as practicable, could not have been attempted.[199]

For some time after the battle, hopes were entertained of an effectual
rallying of the forces. By a letter from one of the Prince's
aides-de-camp, Alexander Macleod, to Clunie Macpherson, on the very day
of the battle, it appears that his party soon hoped, or pretended to
hope, "to pay Cumberland back in his own coin." A review of the fragment
of the army was projected at Fort-Augustus, on the seventeenth of April;
and amends were promised to be made for the "ruffle at Culloden."[200]
"For God's sake," wrote Mr. Macleod, "make haste to join us; and bring
with you all the people that can possibly be got together. Take care in
particular of Lumisden and Sheridan, as they carry with them the sinews
of war."

To this letter Lord George Murray added some lines, which prove how
hopeless, at that moment, he considered any project of rallying; and,
indeed, even before the epistle was dispatched to Clunie, the Prince had
left Gorteleg, and taken refuge in "Clanranald's country."

Notwithstanding the Prince's flight, Lord George Murray, presuming that
he could still make a stand, remained at Ruthven, where a force of
between two and three thousand men was assembled. It was found, however,
impossible, from the want of provisions, to keep such an army together;
and, in a few days, a message from Charles, ordering his ill-fated
adherents to disperse, decided their fate. At this epoch Lord George
Murray addressed a letter to Charles, certainly not calculated to soothe
the feelings of the unfortunate young man, nor to conciliate the bitter
spirit which afterwards, during the lapse of years, never abated towards
his former General. The letter began thus.[201]

    "May it please your Royal Highness,

    As no person in these Kingdoms ventured more frankly in the cause
    than myself, and as I had more at stake than almost all the others
    put together, I cannot but be very deeply affected with our late
    loss, and present situation; and I declare, that were your Royal
    Highness's person in safety, the loss of the cause, and the
    unfortunate and unhappy state of my countrymen is the only thing
    that grieves me; for I thank God I have resolution to bear my own
    family's ruin without a grudge."

After this preface Lord George, in no softened terms, pointed out what
he conceived to be the causes of the failure of the enterprise;--the
imprudence of having set up the standard without aid from France; the
deficiencies and blunders of Mr. O'Sullivan, whose business it was to
reconnoitre the field of battle, but who had not so much as viewed it
before the affair of Culloden. He next pointed out the negligence, if
not treachery, of Mr. Hay, who had the charge of the provisions. To the
disgraceful mismanagement of this important department might, indeed,
the ruin of the army be traced. "For my own part," added Lord George,
"I never had any particular discussion with either of them; but I ever
thought them incapable and unfit to serve in the stations they were
placed in."

After these too just remarks, Lord George formally resigned his
commission into the Prince's hands. It had, it appears, been his
intention to have done so after the failure at Blair; but he was
dissuaded by his friends. "I hope your Royal Highness will now accept of
my demission. What commands you may have for me in any other situation,
please honour me with them."

This letter was dated from Ruthven, two days after the battle of
Culloden. The inference which has been drawn from it was, that Lord
George did not contemplate the abandonment of the campaign. It appears
to have been his opinion that the Highlanders could have made a summer
campaign without any risk, marching, as they could, through places in
which no regular troops could follow them. They could never starve as
long as there were sheep and cattle in the country; and they might
probably have carried on an offensive, instead of a defensive war. But
Charles, disheartened, as men of over sanguine tempers usually are, in
misfortune, to the last degree, resolved on escaping to France. He
addressed a farewell letter to the Chiefs, and then commenced that long
and perilous course of wanderings in which his character rose to
heroism, and which presents one of the most interesting episodes in
history of which our annals can boast.

Lord George Murray was long a fugitive from place to place in his native
country, before he could find means to escape to the continent. In
December (1746) he visited, in private, his friends in Edinburgh, and
then embarking at Anstruther, in the Frith of Forth, he set sail for
Holland. Whether he ever returned to his native country is doubtful,
although it appears, from a letter among the Stuart papers, that he had
it in contemplation, in order to bring over his wife and family.

His fate in a foreign land, however embittered by the ingratitude and
hatred of Charles Edward, was cheered by the presence of his wife and
children, with the exception of his eldest son, who was retained in
Scotland, and educated under the auspices of James Duke of Atholl. His
first movement after reaching Holland, was to repair to Rome, there to
pay his respects to the Chevalier St. George, and to unfold to him the
motives of his conduct in the foregoing campaign of 1745. The Chevalier,
affectionately attached as he was to his eldest son, was aware of his
defects, and sensible of the pernicious influence which was exercised
over his mind by the enemies of Lord George Murray; James, who never
appears in a more amiable light than in his correspondence, endeavoured
to conciliate both parties. His letters to Charles Edward, treasured
among the Stuart papers, display kindness and great good sense. His
mediation in this instance was, however, wholly ineffectual. After the
treacherous conduct of Murray of Broughton, the Prince began even to
suspect that Lord George was concerned in the baseness of that
individual. This notion was urgently combated by James; at the same time
he recommended the Prince, not only as a matter of right, but of
policy, to conciliate Lord George, who "owned that he had been wrong
towards Charles, but insisted upon his zeal in the Prince's service."
"Persons," adds the politic Chevalier, "like him may do both good and
hurt; and it is prudent to manage them, and would manifestly be of
prejudice could they be able to say their former services had been
disregarded." But James addressed himself to one who could never
dissimulate. Whatever Charles's errors might be, they were not envenomed
by any portion of cunning, and no motive of prudence could soften him
towards one whom he unjustly disliked.

Lord George, who expected no favour from the English Government, was,
nevertheless, anxious to be "near home." He left Rome in May 1747, and
after remaining some time at Bologna, proceeded to Paris.[202] Here
Charles was playing that ill-judged and desperate game, which was better
suited to a rash impostor, than to the acknowledged descendant of a long
line of monarchs. Here he was rapidly effacing the remembrance of the
brave and generous wanderer who trusted to the honesty of the
Highlanders; who bore his misfortunes as if he had been born in that
land of heroes.

The first idea of Charles, upon hearing of Lord George Murray's arrival
in Paris, was to imprison him as a traitor. "I hope in God," writes his
father to the young Prince, "you will not think of getting Lord George
secured after all I wrote to you about him, and will at least receive
him civilly." But no intercessions could nullify the indignation of
Charles towards his former general.

It was far from Lord George Murray's intention, if we may believe the
Chevalier St. George, again to embroil himself in public affairs, or
even to remain in Paris. His intention was to live privately in Germany
or Flanders, in the hope of being rejoined by his wife. Upon reaching
Paris, he informed the Prince of his arrival; and proposed paying his
respects to him at St. Omer, where Charles was then living. Late on the
evening of the eleventh of July, 1747, a gentleman, who at first refused
to give his name, but who afterwards announced himself as Mr. Stafford,
called on Lord George to convey to him a message desiring him not to "go
near" the Prince, and ordering him to leave Paris immediately. An answer
was returned, signifying that the Prince's commands should be obeyed.
Lord George left Paris, and he and the unfortunate young man whom he had
served, met no more. It is possible that the irritation of Charles was
aggravated by the recent intelligence of his brother's having become a
cardinal: upon receiving the news of that event he shut himself up for
some hours alone. The name of his brother was no longer to be uttered in
his presence nor his health drunk at table.[203] Charles was at this
time in the power of both the Kellys, who are described by one of his
adherents as "false, ambitious, and sordidly avaricious."

After visiting Poland, where he was received by Marshall Belriski as a
relation, and where he endeavoured to negotiate the restitution of some
crown jewels to James, as in right of the Chevalier's wife, the Princess
Sobieski, Lord George settled at Cleves. He changed his name to that of
De Valignie, and here he remained in obscurity with his family. "My
wife," he writes to the Chevalier St. George, "came here on the tenth of
September, 1748, but was soon after seized with an intermitting fever,
which has not yet left her. She begs leave to throw herself at your
Majesty's feet." In 1750, Lord George removed to Emmerick; here he wrote
an account of his campaign, which he addressed to Mr. Hamilton of
Bangour; from this, repeated extracts have been given in this memoir of
his life. The kindness of James Stuart towards him continued unabated:
he recommended him to the notice of the court of France; and consulted
him as to the probable success of a future enterprise in Scotland. On
such a project Lord George Murray expressed himself cautiously, yet
somewhat encouragingly; and declared himself ready to shed the last drop
of his blood in the cause. Happily his zeal was not again put to the
test. Lord George appears, in his letters, to have cherished in his
retirement at Emmerick, a lingering hope that at some future day the
Stuarts might make another attempt. He was now in the decline of life,
and yearning to behold again the country which he was destined to see no
more. "How happily," he writes to Mr. Edgar,[204] "should you and I be
to sit over a bottle in Angus, or Perthshire, after a restoration, and
talk over old services. May that soon happen!"

Meantime some members of Lord George's family suffered the severest
distress. His uncle, Lord Nairn, had, it is true, escaped to France; but
Lady Nairn and her daughter, Lady Clementina, were reduced to the
utmost penury in Scotland. They remained in their native country,
probably with the hope of saving the wreck of their fortunes, until all
that the troops had spared was sold, and the money which accrued from
the sale was exhausted. Such was the rapacity of the plunderers, that
they took even Lady Nairn's watch and clothes. The Government, although
in possession of her estate, never gave her one farthing for
subsistence, but even made her pay a rent for the garden of one of Lord
Nairn's own houses in which she lived. But this is only one instance of
that catalogue of cruelties towards the Jacobites, which it would take
volumes to detail.

In 1751, Lord George Murray visited Dresden, where, owing to the
mediation of James Stuart, he was well received. His letters at this
period refer frequently to the exertions which he made for Lord Macleod,
the son of Lord Cromartie: to this young man a company was given in
Finland, in the Prussian service, and the Chevalier St. George furnished
him with his accoutrements and equipage.

The eldest son of Lord George Murray remained, as we have seen, in
Scotland; but the second was, through the favour of the Chevalier,
recommended to the especial notice of the court of Prussia. The visit of
Lord George to Dresden seems to have been chiefly designed to push the
interests of this young man, who was introduced to the Count and
Countess De Bruhl. The youth was to study the military science and
exercises at Dresden, and at the same time to enjoy, in the house of the
Pope's Nuncio, the advantage of seeing company, and of forming
connections.

Having arranged these affairs, Lord George returned to Emmerick. His
wife had left him for Scotland, in order to be confined there; and this
event, attended by so much inconvenience, and prefaced by a voyage of
twelve days, "put her," as Lord George observed, "somewhat out of
countenance, after twenty-three years' marriage." Her return was delayed
for some time. "I shall be pretty lonely this winter (1751)," writes Lord
George to Mr. Edgar, "for my wife, who was brought to bed of a daughter
the middle of September, recovered but very slowly, and now the season
of the year is too far advanced for her to venture so long a voyage;
besides, she has some thoughts that Lady Sinclair (his daughter) may
come with her in the spring." In his solitude, anxieties about his
patrimonial property added to the sorrows of the exile. "I am
told,"[205] he writes, "that the Duke of Atholl is desirous of selling
the roialty of the Isle of Man to the London Government, for which, they
say, he is offered fifteen thousand pounds sterling. Had it not been for
my situation, I believe he could not have done it without my consent;
but, I'm sorry to say it, and it is a truth, that he is full as much my
enemy as any of that Government. He has sent my eldest son abroad, but,
as I understand, with positive orders not to see nor correspond with me.
All this is the more extraordinary that, thirty years ago, before he
turned courtier, he seemed to have very different notions. Most people
in Britain now regard neither probity nor any other virtue--all is
selfish and vainal (venial). But how can I complean of such hard usage,
when my royal master has met with what is a thousand times more cruel:
he bears it like a Christian hero, and it would ill suit me to repine. I
thank the Almighty I never did, and I think it my greatest honour and
glory to suffer in so just and upright a cause." Hope, however, of one
day returning to Scotland, was not extinct. He thus continues: "Upon
receipt of the note you sent me, I have gott the carabin, for which I
return you many thanks. I expect to kill a wild bore with it; but I fain
hope Providence may still order it that I may make use of it at home,
and, if all succeeds to our wishes, how happy should I think myself to
send you, when you returned to Angus, a good fatt stagg, shott in the
forest of Atholl with your own gun."

Until five years before his death, Lord George still cherished the hope
that France would again find it her interest to support the claims of
the Stuarts. He had always considered that the support of the French
would be decisive of the success of the cause. "Had the ministers of the
court of Versailles, ten years ago, been persuaded that the supporting
of his Royal Highness the Prince, at the beginning of his attempt, in a
proper manner with the best measures they could take for the interest of
their master as well as that of the King, our gracious sovereign, I
think I do not say too much if I affirm that his Royal Highness would
not have failed of success. I had at that time opportunities of knowing
the sentiments and way of thinking of most people in Great Britain.
Many, very many, wished well to the cause. Great numbers would have
looked on, and would have turned to the side that had success. But there
is no recalling what is passed. I believe that in France they are
convinced now of the error they were in at the time. If ever they
resolve to espouse the cause of the royal family it must be in earnest,
and their main view must be that. Then there would be no difficulty in
adjusting limits in America. I have been much longer upon the subject
than I intended. Perhaps zeal has led me too far."

The period was now approaching when Lord George Murray was to close a
life of vicissitude and turmoil. He died in 1760 at Medenblinck, in
Holland, leaving three sons and two daughters. Upon the death of James
Duke of Atholl in 1764, John, the eldest son of Lord George Murray,
succeeded to the dukedom, and to the great possessions of the family. He
married his first cousin, Charlotte, only daughter and heiress of his
uncle, the Duke of Atholl; and in 1765 their Graces sold the sovereignty
of the Isle of Man, upon the disposal of which Lord George Murray had
expressed much solicitude, to the British Government. The present Duke
of Atholl, who succeeded his father in 1830, is the grandson of John,
third Duke of Atholl, and the great-grandson of Lord George Murray. The
descendants of this justly celebrated man have, therefore, shared a
happier fortune than those of many of the other attainted noblemen of
his party.

The attainder was not, however, set aside in favour of the son of Lord
George Murray without a petition to the King, upon which the House of
Lords gave a favourable report, and the objection was overcome.[206]
Besides his eldest son, Lord George left two others; James, of Strowan,
in right of his mother; George, of Pitkeathly, who became Vice-Admiral
of the White--and two daughters; Amelia, first married to Lord Sinclair,
and afterwards to James Farquharson, of Inverness; and Charlotte, who
died unmarried.

The mind of Lord George Murray was one of great original power, and less
dependent upon those circumstances which usually affect the formation of
character, than that of most men. He was determined and inflexible in
opinions, yet cautious in action. That he was sincere and honourable
there can now be little doubt. It was his consciousness of upright
intentions which inspired him with contempt for the littleness of
others; and with his love of superiority, his self-will and ambition,
there was wrought a strong conviction of his own worth, as opposed to
the hollowness of some of his party. Throughout all his letters, and in
his journal, there is a strong evidence of his confidence in his own
powers; of a self-sufficiency too lofty to be called vanity, but which
sometimes descends to egotism. To his courage, his energy and
perseverance, his military contemporaries have borne unanimous
testimony. They seem entirely to have comprehended a character which the
unfortunate Charles Edward could never appreciate. They felt the
justness of his ascendancy, and discriminated between the bluntness of
an ardent and honest mind, careless of ordinary forms, and the arrogance
of an inferior capacity. As a soldier, indeed, the qualities of Lord
George Murray rose to greatness: so enduring, and so fearless, so
careless of danger to himself, yet so solicitous for others. As a
general, some great defects may be pointed out in his composition,
without detracting from his merits as a private individual.

Let us first turn to the bright side of the picture. In activity and
exertion Lord George Murray has not been surpassed even by the more
fortunate, although, perhaps, not greater commanders of modern times. He
was indefatigable in business, and any one who desired access to him
could see him at any hour, whether at meals or in bed. "On some
occasions," he remarks, "I have been waked six times a night, and had
either orders to write, or letters to answer every time; for as I mostly
commanded a separate body of the army, I had many details that, in a
more regular army, would belong to different people." Every order, even
that which sent an officer to an out-post, was written by his own hand,
and explained by him; every contingency that might occur in the
execution was canvassed, and every objection that was suggested was
answered by himself. The officers, therefore, confiding in their
general, performed their duties with cheerfulness, and made their
reports with exactness. There was no confusion, nor misapprehension,
wherever Lord George presided. As a disciplinarian, he was pre-eminent;
no army ever quitted a country with so little odium, nor left behind
them such slight memorials of their march, as that of Charles Edward
when it returned from Derby. The greatest excess that the Highlanders
were known to commit was the seizing horses to carry their baggage, or
to carry their sick;--and these it was Lord George's endeavour always
to restore, even at a great inconvenience to the soldiers. Even with
every precaution it was impossible wholly to restrain plundering,
although the General undertook in person to control that evil. "How
often," he writes, "have I gone into houses on our marches to drive the
men out of them, and drubbed them heartily?"

This able man possessed another great requisite as a commander. He
thoroughly understood his materials, he was perfectly acquainted with
the temper and disposition of his soldiers. It was the attribute which
made Marlborough unconquerable; and, in an army chiefly of Highlanders,
it was one of the greatest value. By this Lord George acquired over the
members of every respective Clan as much influence as each Chief
separately had. His corrections were well applied, and never lessened
the confidence nor affections of the soldiery. From the highest to the
lowest, the men and officers had a confidence in him, which induced them
to apply to him for redress in grievances, and to consider him as an
umpire in disputes.

But Lord George was not only a disciplinarian; in his own person, he set
the example of a scrupulous honesty. "I never," he writes in his
explanation of his conduct, "took the least thing without paying the
full value. I thought that I could not reasonably find fault with others
in that, if I did not show them a good example."

To the sick and wounded Lord George invariably paid the utmost
attention; and, under his guidance, the Highlanders, heretofore so
fierce towards each other in their contests, were remarkable for a
degree of humanity which was disgracefully contrasted with the barbarity
of their conquerors. Such were his general attributes in his military
station. Whatever doubts may have existed in the mind of Charles Edward
as to the fidelity of his General, are silenced by the long and hopeless
exile of Lord George Murray, and by the continued friendship of the
Chevalier St. George. No overtures, as in the case of the Earl of Mar,
to the British Government, nor efforts on the part of his prosperous and
favoured brother, the Duke of Atholl, have transpired to show that in
saving Blair, there was a secret understanding that there should be a
future reward, nor that any surmise of treachery had opened a door to
reconciliation. Charles, be it remembered, was under that daily, hourly
influence, which weakens the judgment, and exasperates the passions. His
opinion of Lord George Murray must not be accepted as any evidence
against one who had redeemed the inconsistencies of his youth by the
great exertions of his manhood.

Some vital defects there were, nevertheless, in this General, of
powerful intellect, and of earnest and honourable intentions. His
character partook too largely of that quality which has raised his
country as a nation in all other countries, prudence. For his peculiar
situation he was far too cautious. Persevering and inflexible, he was
destitute of hope. If it be true, that he entered into the undertaking
with a conviction that the cause could never prosper, he was the last
man that should have been the general of an army whose ardour, when not
engaged in action, he invariably restrained. All contending opinions
seem to hesitate and to falter when they relate to the retreat from
Derby, the grand error of the enterprise; the fatal step, when the tide
served, and the wind was propitious, and an opportunity never to be
regained, was for ever lost.

In private society, Lord George Murray is reported to have been
overbearing and hasty; his fine person, and handsome countenance were
lessened in their agreeableness by a haughty deportment. He was simple,
temperate, and self-denying in his habits. In his relations of life, he
appears to have been respectable. His letters show him to have enjoyed,
at least, the usual means of education offered to a soldier, who entered
upon active service at sixteen, or to have improved his own
acquirements. They are clear and explicit, and bear the impress of
sincerity and good sense.

Distrusted as he was by Charles Edward, and misrepresented by others, we
may accord to Lord George Murray the indulgence which he claims from
posterity in these, the last words of his vindication:--

"Upon the whole, I shall conclude with saying, if I did not all the good
I would, I am sure I did all I could."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Nisbet's Heraldry, part iii. p. 205.

[2] In the Life of the Marquis of Tullibardine, vol. i.

[3] See Nisbet's Heraldry.

[4] Nisbet's Heraldry, part iii. p. 206.

[5] See a MS. Account of the Highlands of Scotland, British Museum,
King's Library.

[6] "Case of the Forfeited Estates, in a letter to a certain noble Lord.
London, 1718."

[7] Wodrow's Analecta, vol. iii. p. 232.

[8] See Appendix, No. 1. for a curious original letter from Mr. Spence;
for this document I am indebted to my brother-in-law, Samuel Coltman,
Esq. It was in the possession of his mother.

[9] "Genuine Memoirs of John Murray, Esq. London, 1746."

[10] "Maxwell of Kirkconnel's Narrative," p. 4.

[11] Life of James Murray, Esq.

[12] See Atholl Correspondence. Printed for the Abbotsford Club.

[13] Home, p. 31.

[14] Narrative, p. 1.

[15] Life of John Murray, Esq., p. 22.

[16] See Stuart Papers, in Dr. Brown's History of the Highlands.

[17] Life of J. Murray, Esq., p. 11.

[18] This disposition, observes a modern Historian, was inherited both
by Charles Edward and his brother from their mother, the Princess
Clementina, who devoted herself, during the years of their infancy, to
their welfare with unceasing care.--Histoire de Charles Edouard, par
Amedée Pichot; tome première, p. 265.

[19] Life of Sir Robert Walpole, vol. ii. p. 490.

[20] Ibid. p. 492.

[21] Life of Sir Robert Walpole, vol. ii. p. 550.

[22] The Prince took off at the same time the interdict which had passed
against any of Lord Orford's family appearing at his Court.

[23] Maxwell's Narrative, p. 13.

[24] See State Trials by Howell, vol. xviii. p. 661.

[25] Maxwell, p. 14.

[26] Memoirs of the Chevalier Johnstone, p. 19.

[27] Chevalier Johnstone's Memoirs. Translated from the French, p. 121.

[28] See Introduction to the Chevalier Johnstone's Memoirs.

[29] The Highlands of Scotland Described, MS. British Museum, 1748.

[30] See Forbes's Jacobite Memoirs, p. 30.

[31] One thousand is mentioned by the Chevalier Johnstone; two thousand,
in other authorities. The Prince himself wrote to his father (Sept.
10th, from Perth), "I have got together 1300 men." Forbes, note, p. 32.

[32] Johnstone's Memoirs, note, p. 11.

[33] Tales of a Grandfather, 3rd Series, vol. ii, p. 284.

[34] Forbes, p. 31.

[35] Lord Mahon.

[36] Maxwell, pp. 56, 57; also Tales of a Grandfather, 3rd Series, vol.
ii. p. 285.

[37] I adopt this expression of Sir Walter Scott in the Tales of a
Grandfather (vol. ii. 3rd Series, p. 205), which seems to imply some
doubt on the subject.

[38] History of the Rebellion. Taken from the Scots Magazine, p. 36.

[39] Life of Murray of Broughton, p. 31.

[40] Maxwell's Narrative, p. 56.

[41] Forbes. Note, p. 32.

[42] Lord George Murray's Narrative. Forbes, p. 39.

[43] British Chronologist, vol. ii. p. 397.

[44] Forbes, p. 41.

[45] Forbes, p. 42.

[46] Henderson's History of the Rebellion, p. 88.

[47] Ibid.

[48] Henderson. Maxwell of Kirkconnel.

[49] Forbes, p. 43.

[50] Forbes, p. 46.

[51] Border Antiquities, by Sir Walter Scott. No. iv. vol. i.

[52] History of the Rebellion, from the Scots Magazine, p. 35.

[53] True Patriot, a weekly periodical, December 17, 1745.

[54] General Advertiser, 1745.

[55] Forbes, p. 47.

[56] Maxwell, p. 53.

[57] The True Patriot, December 10, 1745.

[58] Jacobite Correspondence, p. 3.

[59] Ibid. p. 41.

[60] Ibid. p. 30.

[61] Jacobite Correspondence, p. 48.

[62] Jacobite Correspondence, p. 67. Duke of Atholl to Lord George
Murray.

[63] Jacobite Correspondence, p. 114.

[64] See Correspondence.

[65] Henderson's Hist. Rebellion, p. 129.

[66] Maxwell.

[67] Chambers.

[68] Home.

[69] Maxwell's Narrative, p. 61.

[70] Ibid.

[71] Chevalier Johnstone, p. 42.

[72] Chambers, Hist. Rebel. People's edition, p. 49.

[73] Chambers, p. 50.

[74] Lockhart Papers, vol. ii. p. 455.

[75] Jacobite Correspondence of the Atholl Family, p. 141.

[76] Chevalier Johnstone, p. 43.

[77] Border Antiquities, by Sir Walter Scott, p. 40; also Maxwell's
Narrative, p. 63.

[78] Hutchinson's History of Cumberland.

[79] Lockhart Papers, vol. ii. p. 457.

[80] General Advertiser for 1745.

[81] Jacobite Memoirs, p. 49.

[82] Forbes's Jacobite Memoirs, p. 49.

[83] Forbes's Jacobite Memoirs, p. 50.

[84] Forbes, p. 51.

[85] Forbes, p. 52.

[86] Forbes, p. 53.

[87] See Lockhart, vol. ii. p. 456; also Lord Mahon, vol. iv. p. 428,
note.

[88] Maxwell, p. 67.

[89] Maxwell says 4400 men. Two or three hundred were to be left in
Carlisle, p. 68.

[90] Johnstone's Memoirs of the Rebellion, p. 45.

[91] Baines's History of Lancashire, II, 68.

[92] General Advertiser for 1745-46.

[93] Maxwell, page 68.

The following is a List of the Chevalier's officers and troops, taken
from the History of the Rebellion, extracted from the Scots' Magazine
for 1745 and 1746, p. 60. This List makes the amount of the forces
considerably greater than the statement given elsewhere.


A LIST OF THE CHEVALIER'S OFFICERS AND TROOPS.

_Regiments._              _Colonels._             _Men._
Lochyel                Cameron of Loch.             740
Appin                  Stuart of Ardshiel           360
Atholl                 Lord G. Murray              1000
Clanronald             Clan, of Clan., jun.         200
Keppoch                Macdonald of Keppoch         400
Glenco                 Macdonald of Glenco          200
                                                 ------
                             Carried forward       2900
                                                 ------

A LIST OF THE CHEVALIER'S OFFICERS AND TROOPS--_continued._

_Regiments._              _Colonels._             _Men._
                               Brought forward     2900
Ogilvie                Lord Ogilvie                 500
Glenbucket             Gordon of Glen.              427
Perth,                 Duke of Perth (and
                         Pitsligo's foot)           750
Robertson              Robertson of Strowan         200
Maclachan              Mac. of Maclachan            260
Glencarnick            Macgregor                    300
Glengary               Macdonald of Glen., jun.     300
Nairn                  Lord Nairn                   200
Edinburgh              John Roy Stuart (and Lord
                         Kelly's)                   450
                       In several small corps      1000
                          {Lord Elcho           }
                   Horse  {                     }   160
                          {Lord Kilmarnock      }
                       Lord Pitsligo's Horse        140
                                                  -----
                                        Total      7587
                                                  -----


[94] "My grandfather," says General Stuart, "always wore tartans; truis,
and with the plaid thrown over the shoulder, when on horseback; and
kilt, when on foot; and never any other clothes, except when in
mourning." App. XXII.

[95] Sketches of the Highlanders, by General Stuart of Garth. Vol. II.
App. XXII. Also note.

[96] See the True Patriot, under the head Apocrypha, 1745.

[97] Stuart's Sketches, II. 76.

[98] Tales of a Grandfather, iii. 398.

[99] General Stuart's Sketches of the Highlanders, p. 67.

[100] State Trials, vol. xviii. p. 686.

[101] John Sobieski Stuart.

[102] Vestiarium Scoticum, p. 100, note. Edited by John Sobieski Stuart.

[103] These observations are all taken from the Notes to the Vestiarium
Scoticum, a beautiful work, extremely interesting, as being written by
the hand of a Stuart, and full of information.

[104] Maxwell, p. 70.

[105] Baines's History of Lancashire, iv. 69.

[106] Tales of a Grandfather, iii. p. 98.

[107] Maxwell, p. 71.

[108] Tales of a Grandfather.

[109] Baines's Lancashire, ii. p. 71; also iii. p. 254.

[110] Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xv. p. 644.

[111] I omit Horace Walpole's exact expression, which is more witty than
proper.

[112] Sketches of the Highlanders, by General Stewart, vol. ii. p. 257;
also Georgian Era, pp. 56, 57.

[113] Brown's Hist. of the Highlanders, vol. iii. p. 197.

[114] General Stewart, p. 233.

[115] Ibid. p. 246.

[116] Maxwell, p. 71.

[117] Chambers's Hist. of the Rebellion; Edition for the People, p. 54.

[118] Glover's Hist. of Derbyshire, vol. i. p. 32. There is, in Ashbourn
church, an exquisite monument, sculptured by Banks, and supposed to have
given the notion of the figures in Lichfield Cathedral to Chantry. A
young girl, the only child of her parents, Sir Brook and Lady Boothby,
reposes on a cushion, not at rest, but in the uneasy posture of
suffering. On the tablet beneath are these words: "I was not in safety,
neither had I rest, and the trouble came." To which were added; "The
unfortunate parents ventured their all on the frail bark, and the wreck
was total."--A history and an admonition.

[119] Maxwell, p. 72.

[120] Extract from the Derby Mercury. Glover's Hist. of Derbyshire, vol.
ii. p. 1 to 420.

[121] Glover, vol. ii. pt. 415; from Hutton's Derby.

[122] Glover, vol. ii. pt. 1. p. 240.

[123] Glover, vol. ii. pt. i. p. 421. From the Derby Mercury, the first
number of which was issued March 23, 1732, by Mr. Samuel Drewry,
Market-place. Appendix to Glover's Hist., 616.

[124] Probably the house wherein Lord George Murray was lodged, belonged
to a member of the Heathcote family, of Stoncliffe Hall, Darley Dale,
Derbyshire.

[125] Tales of a Grandfather, iii. p. 103.

[126] Maxwell, p. 73.

[127] Lord George Murray's Narrative, Forbes, p. 55 and 56.

[128] Maxwell of Kirkconnell, p. 74.

[129] Chevalier Johnstone, p. 51.

[130] Ibid. p. 52.

[131] Chambers, p. 56, and Lord Elcho's MS.

[132] Maxwell, p. 75.

[133] Maxwell, p. 75 76.

[134] Maxwell, p. 76.

[135] Chevalier Johnstone, p. 157.

[136] Lord Mahon's History of England, vol. iii. p. 445.

[137] General Stewart's Sketches, vol. ii. p. 263.

[138] Lord Mahon, vol. iii. p. 446.

[139] Tales of a Grandfather, vol. iii. p. 107.

[140] Jacobite Memoirs, p. 57.

[141] Such is the account of a writer in the Derby Mercury, see Glover's
History of Derby; but this statement is at variance with Lord George
Murray's Journal.

[142] The Grandmother of the Author.

[143] Tradition.

[144] Glover, vol. ii. pt. i. p. 422.

[145] Lord Elcho's MS.

[146] Glover, vol. ii. pt. i. p. 422.

[147] Maxwell, p. 80.

[148] This account is taken from Maxwell's narrative, p. 84 and 85; and
from the Chevalier Johnstone's Memoirs, p. 60 and 61.

[149] Jacobite Mem. p. 71.

[150] The Hussars, under the command of Lord Pitsligo, had gone off to
Penrith.

[151] Jacobite Mem. p. 72.

[152] Note to General Stewart's Sketches, vol. i. p. 58.

[153] Maxwell.

[154] Jacobite Mem. p. 62.

[155] Maxwell, p. 88.

[156] Tales of a Grandfather, vol. iii. p. 125.

[157] Jacobite Mem. p. 74.

[158] Johnstone, p. 75.

[159] This statement tends somewhat to disprove the assertion that Roman
Catholic priests occupied the pulpits at Derby, made in the papers of
the time. See p. 136

[160] Maxwell.

[161] Johnstone, p. 82.

[162] Maxwell p. 103.

[163] Lord Murray's Narrative, Forbes, p. 88.

[164] General Stuart, I., p. 78.

[165] Forbes; note, p. 94.

[166] Chambers's Hist. of the Rebellion, p. 70.

[167] Tales of a Grandfather, iii. 166.

[168] Forbes, p. 100. Maxwell, p. 115. See, also, for the references to
the last eight pages, Lord Mahon, Henderson, Chambers, and Home.

[169] Scots' Magazine, p. 138.

[170] Atholl Correspondence, p. 163. _et passim_.

[171] Tales of a Grandfather, vol. iii. p. 176.

[172] Maxwell, p. 131; also Forbes, p. 193.

[173] Lord George Murray's Journal. Forbes, p. 166. Johnstone's Memoirs,
p. 116. Maxwell, p. 133.

[174] According to Lord Elcho's account (MS.), ten or twelve only were
killed, and the rest taken prisoners.

[175] Forbes' Johnstone.

[176] Grant of Rothiemurcus.

[177] Atholl Correspondence, p. 211.

[178] See vol. i.--Life of the Marquis of Tullibardine.

[179] Lord Elcho's MS.

[180] See a very curious account of the Siege of Blair Castle, written
by a subaltern officer in the King's Service. Scots' Magazine for 1808.

[181] Forbes, p. 108.

[182] Scots' Magazine, p. 33.

[183] Ibid.

[184] There was one horse which seemed endowed with supernatural
strength, for when, eventually, the Castle was relieved, the horse,
which had been shut up without forage, was found, after eight or ten
days of abstinence, alive, and "wildly staggering about" in its
confinement. It was afterwards sent as a present by Captain Wentworth,
to whom it belonged, to his sister in England.

[185] See Forbes, p. 108, 109.

[186] Jacobite Correspondence, p. 217.

[187] Jacobite Correspondence, p. 218.

[188] Maxwell, p. 13.

[189] Maxwell, p. 134.

[190] These circumstances will be fully detailed in the Life of the Duke
of Perth.

[191] Maxwell.

[192] Colonel Ker's Narrative, Forbes, p. 140 and 141.

[193] Lord Elcho's MS.

[194] Maxwell, p. 153.

[195] Lord Elcho's MS.

[196] Colonel Ker's Narrative, p. 142.

[197] Lord G. Murray's Account, Forbes, p. 124.

[198] Lord Elcho's MS.

[199] Lockhart, vol. ii. p. 533.

[200] Atholl Correspondence, p. 221.

[201] Brown's History of the Highlands, pt. v. p. 261.; from the Stuart
Papers.

[202] See Stuart Papers. Brown, _passim_.

[203] Stuart Papers; from Dr. Brown.

[204] Secretary to the Chevalier St. George.

[205] Stuart Papers. Appendix. Brown, p. 95.

[206] Chambers. Ed. for the People, p. 141.




JAMES DRUMMOND, STYLED DUKE OF PERTH.


In a history of the House of Drummond, compiled in the year 1681, by
Lord Strathallan, the author thus addresses his relative, James, Earl of
Perth, on the subject of their common ancestry:

"Take heire a view of youre noble and renowned ancestors, of whose blood
you are descended in a right and uninterrupted male line; as also of so
many of the consanguinities and ancient affinities of youre family in
the infancy thereof, as the penury of our oldest records and the credit
of our best traditions has happily preserved from the grave of oblivion.
The splendor of your fame," he adds, "needs no commendation, more than
the sune does to a candle; and even a little of the truth from me may be
obnoxious to the slander of flattery, or partiality, by reason of my
interest in it. Therefore I'll say the less; only this is generally
known for a truth, that justice, loyaltie, and prudence, which have been
but incident virtues and qualities in others, are all three as inherent
ornaments, and hereditary in yours."[207]

Such praise far exceeds in value the mere homage to ancient lineage.
With these noble qualities, the race of Drummond combined the courage to
defend their rights, and the magnanimity to protect the feeble. This
last characteristic is beautifully described in the following words:

"For justice, as a poor stranger, often thrust out of doors from great
houses, where grandeur and utility are commonly the idolls that's
worshipped,--_quid non mortalia pectora cogis?_--has always found
sanctuary in yours, which has ever been ane encouragement to the good, a
terror to the bad, and free from the oppression of either."

To this magnanimous spirit were added loyalty to the sovereign, and
prudence in the management of private affairs; a virtue of no small
price, for it rendered the House of Drummond independent of Court
favour, and gave to its prosperity a solid basis. "The chiefs of this
family lived," says their historian, "handsomely, like themselves; and
still improved or preserved their fortunes since the first founder."

The origin of this race is, perhaps, as interesting as that of any of
the Scottish nobility, and has the additional merit of being well
ascertained.

After the death of Edward the Confessor, the next claimant to the Crown,
Edgar Atheling, alarmed for his safety after the Norman Conquest, took
shipping with his mother Agatha, and with his two sisters, Margaret and
Christiana, intended to escape to Hungary; but owing to a violent storm,
or, as the noble historian of the Drummonds well expresses it, "through
Divine Providence," he was driven upon the Scottish coast, and forced to
land upon the north side of the Firth of Forth. He took shelter in a
little harbour west of the Queen's Ferry, ever since called St.
Margaret's Hook, from Edgar's sister Margaret, who, for the "rare
perfectiones of her body and mind," was afterwards chosen by Malcolm
Canmore, to the great satisfaction of the nation, for his Queen.
Margaret was therefore married to the Scottish monarch at Dunfermline in
the year 1066.

This alliance was not the only advantage derived by the young and exiled
English King from his accidental landing in Scotland. Penetrated with
gratitude for former services conferred upon himself by Edward the
Confessor, Malcolm supported the cause of Edgar, and received and
bestowed upon his adherents lands and offices, in token of kindness to
his royal guest. Hence some of the most potent families in the kingdom
had their origin.

Amongst the train of Edgar Atheling at Dunfermline was an Hungarian,
eminent for his faithful services, but especially for his skilful and
successful conduct of the vessel in which the fugitives had sailed from
England. He was highly esteemed by the grateful Queen Margaret, who
recommended him to the King; and, for his reward, lands, offices, and a
coat of arms suitable to his quality, were conferred on him, together
with the name of Drummond.

It was about this period that surnames were first introduced, and that
patronymicks were found insufficient to designate heroes. Since the new
designations were often derived from some office, as well as the
possession of lands and peculiar attributes, the Hungarian obtained his
name in consequence of his nautical skill; Dromont, or Dromond, being,
in different nations, the name of a ship, whence the commander was
called Dromount, or Dromoner.

The first lands bestowed upon the Hungarian were situated in
Dumbartonshire, and in the jurisdiction of the Lennox; a county full of
rivers, lochs, and mountains, "emblematically expressed," says Lord
Strathallan, "in the coats of arms then given to him, wherein hunting,
waters, hounds, inhabitants wild and naked, are represented." To these
gifts was added the office of Thane, Seneschal, or Stuart Heritable of
Lennox,--names all meaning the same thing, but altering with the
times.[208]

The Hungarian, whose Christian name is conjectured to have been Maurice,
was then naturalized a Scot; and all the parts of his coat-armour were
contrived to indicate his adventures, his name, office, and nation. He
died in an encounter near Alnwick Castle, fighting valiantly, in order
to avenge the surprise of that place by William Rufus, in 1093.

The records of the family of Drummond were for several generations
defective after the death of Maurice; but there exists no doubt but that
he was the founder of a family once so prosperous, and afterwards so
unfortunate. The name of Maurice was preserved, according to the
Scottish custom of naming the eldest son after his father, for many
succeeding generations.

The family continued to increase in importance, and to enjoy the favour
of royalty; and the marriage of the beautiful Annabella Drummond to
Robert the Third, King of Scotland, produced an alliance between the
House of Drummond and the royal families of Austria and Burgundy. In
1487 James the Third ennobled the race by making John Drummond, the
twelfth chief in succession, a Lord of Parliament. As the annals of the
race are reviewed, many instances of valour, wisdom, and unchangeable
probity arise; whilst some events, which have the features of romance,
diversify the chronicle. Among these is the story of the fair Margaret
Drummond, who has been celebrated by several of our best historians.

Between Margaret and James the Fourth of Scotland an attachment existed.
They were cousins; and a pretext was made by the nobles and council, on
that account, to prevent a marriage which they alleged to be within the
degrees of consanguinity permitted by the Canon law: nevertheless, under
promise of a marriage, Margaret consented to live with her royal lover,
and the result of that connexion was a daughter. This happened when
James was only in his sixteenth year, and whilst he was Duke of Rothsay;
yet the monarch was so much touched in conscience by the engagement, or
betrothal, between him and the young lady, that he remained unmarried
until the age of thirty, about a year after the death of Margaret
Drummond.

That event, it was surmised, was caused by poison; the common tradition
being that a potion was provided for Margaret at breakfast, in order to
free the King from his bonds, that he might "match with England." "But
it so happened," says the narrative,[209] "that she called two of her
sisters, then with her in Drummond, to accompany her that morning, to
wit, Lilias, Lady Fleming, and a younger, Sybilla, a maid; whereby it
fell out all the three were destroyed with the force of the poyson. They
ly burried in a curious vault covered with three faire blue marble
stones, joyned closs together, about the middle of the queir of the
cathedral church of Dumblane; for about this time the burial-place for
the familie of Drummond at Innerpeffrie was not yet built. The monument
which containes the ashes of these three ladyes stands entire to this
day, and confirms the credit of this sad storie."

The daughter of Margaret Drummond, Lady Margaret Stuart, was well
provided for by the King; and was married, in the year 1497, to Lord
Gordon, the eldest son of the Earl of Huntley, "a gallant and handsome
youth." From this union four noble families are descended; the Gordons,
Earls of Huntley; the Countess of Sutherland; the Countess of Atholl,
who was the mother of Lady Lovat; and Lady Saltoun. James the Fourth
testified his regret for the death of his beloved Margaret, and his
solicitude for her soul's benefit, in a manner characteristic of his age
and character. In the Treasurer's accounts for February 1502-3, there
occurs this entry, "Item, to the priests that sing in Dumblane for
Margaret Drummond, their quarter fee, five pounds:" and this item,
occurring regularly during the reign of James the Fourth, "Paid to two
priests who were appointed to sing masses for Margaret in the cathedral
of Dumblane, where she was buried," marks his remembrance of his
betrothed wife.

One of the greatest ornaments of the ancient House of Drummond was
William Drummond, a descendant of the Drummonds of Carnock, son of Sir
John Drummond of Hawthornden, and author of the "History of the Five
James's," Kings of Scotland.[210] The friend of Drayton, and of Ben
Jonson, this man of rare virtues presents one of the brightest examples
of that class to which he belonged, the Scottish country-gentleman.
True-hearted, like the rest of his race, Drummond was never called forth
from a retirement over which virtue and letters cast their charms,
except by the commotions of his country. His grief at the death of
Charles the First, whom he survived only one year, is said to have
shortened his days.

In 1605, the title of Earl of Perth was added to the other honours of
the family of Drummond,[211] who derived a still further accession of
honour and repute by the probity and firmness of its members in the
great Rebellion. Like most of the other Scottish families of rank, they
suffered great losses, and fell into embarrassed circumstances on
account of heavy fines exacted by Oliver Cromwell. The house, Castle
Drummond, was garrisoned by the Protector's troops, and the estates were
ravaged and ruined. Yet the valiant and true-hearted descendants of
those who had been thus punished for their allegiance, were ready again
to adopt the same cause, and to adhere to the same principles that had
guided their forefathers.

In the person of James Drummond, fourth Earl of Perth, who succeeded his
father the third Earl, in 1675, several high honours were centred. He
was made, by Charles the Second, Justice-General, and afterwards Lord
High Chancellor of Scotland. He continued to be a favourite with James
the Second; and in 1688, when James fled from England, the Earl of
Perth, endeavouring to follow him, was thrown into prison, first at
Kirkaldy, and afterwards at Stirling, until the privy council, upon his
giving security for five thousand pounds, permitted him to follow his
royal master. From James, the Earl received the title of Duke, which his
successors adopted, and which was given to them by the Jacobite party,
of which we find repeated instances in the letters of Lord Mar. His son,
Lord Drummond, succeeded to all the inconveniences which attend the
partisans of the unfortunate. Returning from France, in 1695, he was
obliged to give security for his good conduct, in a large sum. In
consequence of the assassination plot, the vigilance of Government was
increased, and, in 1696, he was committed to Edinburgh Castle. During
the reign of William, a system of exaction was carried on with respect
to this family.

"In a word," says the author of Lochiell's Memoirs, himself a Drummond,
speaking of James Lord Drummond, "that noble lord was miserably harassed
all this reign. He represented a family which had always been a blessing
to the country where it resided; and he himself was possessed of so many
amiable qualities, that he was too generally beloved not to be suspected
by such zealous ministers. He was humble, magnificent, and generous; and
had a certain elevation and greatness of soul that gave an air of
dignity and grandeur to all his words and actions. He had a person
well-turned, graceful and genteel, and was besides the most polite and
best bred lord of his age. His affability, humanity, and goodness gained
upon all with whom he conversed; and as he had many friends, so it was
not known that he had any personal enemies. He had too much sincerity
and honour for the times. The crafty and designing are always apt to
cover their vices under the mask of the most noble and sublime virtues;
and it is natural enough for great souls to believe that every person of
figure truly is what he ought to be, and that a person of true honour
thinks it even criminal to suspect that any he is conversing with is
capable of debasing[212] the dignity of his nature so low as to be
guilty of such vile and ignoble practices. None could be freer of these,
or indeed of all other vices, than the noble person I speak of. The
fixed and unalterable principles of justice and integrity, which always
made the rules of his conduct, were transmitted to him with his blood,
and are virtues inherent and hereditary in the constitution of that
noble family."[213]

Lord Drummond was afterwards engaged in the insurrection of 1715: he
was attainted, but escaped to France, and, dying in 1730, left the
inheritance of estates which he had saved by a timely precaution, and
the empty title of Duke of Perth,[214] to his son James Drummond, the
unfortunate subject of this memoir.

Such was the character borne by the father of James, Duke of Perth. This
ill-fated adherent of the Stuarts was born on the eleventh of May 1713;
and three months afterwards, on the twenty-eighth of August, his father
deemed it expedient to execute a deed conveying the family estates to
him, by which means the property, at that time, escaped forfeiture. Like
many other young men under similar circumstances, this young nobleman
was educated at the Scottish College of Douay, consistently with the
principles of his family, who were at that time Roman Catholics.

In his twenty-first year, the young Duke of Perth came over to Scotland,
and devoted himself, in the absence of his father, to the management of
his estate. It is probable that his own inclinations might have led him
to prefer the occupations of an elegant leisure to the turmoils of
contention; but, be that as it may, it was not reserved for the head of
the House of Drummond to rest contentedly in his own halls.

The nearest kinsmen of the young nobleman were active partisans of the
Chevalier St. George. His brother, Lord John Drummond who had been
confirmed in all his devotion to the cause by his education at Douay,
had entered the service of the King of France, and had raised a regiment
called the Royal Scots, of which he was the Colonel. He was destined to
take an active share in the events to which all were at this time
looking forward, some with dread, others with impatience. But his
influence was less likely to be permanent over his brother, than that of
the Duke's mother, whose wishes were all deeply engaged in behalf of
James Stuart.

This lady, styled Duchess of Perth, was the daughter of George first
Duke of Gordon, and of Lady Elizabeth Howard, Duchess of Gordon, who, in
1711, had astonished the Faculty of Advocates at Edinburgh by sending
them a silver medal with the head of the Chevalier engraved upon it. The
Duchess of Perth inherited her mother's determined character and
political principles; for her adherence to which she eventually
suffered, together with other ladies of rank, by imprisonment.

These ties were strong inducements to the young Duke of Perth to take an
active part in the affair of 1745, and it is said to have been chiefly
on his mother's persuasions that he took his first step. But there was
another individual, whose good-faith to the cause had been proved by
exertion and suffering; this was the brave William, Viscount
Strathallan, who possessed higher qualities than those of personal
valour and loyalty. "His character as a good Christian," writes Bishop
Forbes, "setting aside his other personal qualities and rank in the
world, as it did endear him to all his acquaintances, so did it make his
death universally regretted."[215]

Lord Strathallan was the eldest surviving son of Sir John Drummond of
Macheany, whom he had succeeded in his estates; and, in 1711, became
Viscount Strathallan, Lord Madertie, and Lord Drummond of Cromlix, in
consequence of the death of his cousin.[216] He had engaged in the
rebellion of 1715, and had been taken prisoner, as well as his brother,
Mr. Thomas Drummond, at the battle of Sheriff Muir; but no proceedings
had been instituted against him. His escape on that occasion, as well as
the part which his kinsman, the Earl of Perth, took on that eventful
day, are thus alluded to in an old ballad entitled the Battle of the
Sheriff Muir.


"_To the tune of the 'Horseman's Sport.'_

    "Lord Perth stood the storm; Seaforth, and lukewarm
    Kilsyth, and Strathallan, not sla', man,
    And Hamilton fled--the man was not bred,
    For he had no fancy to fa', man.
    So we ran, and they ran; and they ran, and we ran;
    And we ran, and they ran awa', man."[217]

Lord Strathallan joined the standard of Prince Charles in 1745, and
afterwards acted an important part in the events of that period. He was
not only himself a zealous supporter of the Stuarts, but was aided in
no common degree by his wife, the eldest daughter of the Baroness Nairn
and of Lord William Murray,--in his schemes and exertions. Lady
Strathallan inherited from her mother, a woman of undoubted spirit and
energy, the determination to act, and the fortitude to sustain the
consequences of her exertions. But there was still another individual,
not to specify various members of the same family, whose aid was most
important to the cause of the Jacobites.

This was Andrew Drummond, one of the family of Macheany, and uncle of
Lord Strathallan. He was the founder of the banking-house of Drummond at
Charing Cross, which was formed, as it has been surmised, for the
express purpose of facilitating supplies to the partisans of the
Chevalier. This spirited member of the family remained unchanged in his
principles during the course of a life protracted until the age of
eighty-one. His part in the great events of the day was well known, and
meanly avenged by Sir Robert Walpole, who, in the course of the
insurrection, caused a run upon the bank. The concern, backed by its
powerful connections, stood its ground; but the banker forgave not the
minister. When the tumults of 1745 were at an end, Mr. Drummond so far
yielded to the dictates of prudence as to go to court: he was received
by George the Second, to whom he paid his obeisance. But when the
minister, anxious to conciliate his stern and formidable foe, advanced
to offer him his hand, Mr. Drummond turned round, folded his hands
behind his back, and walked away. "It was my duty," he said afterwards,
"to pay my respects to his Majesty, but I am not obliged to shake hands
with his minister!"

On the young James Drummond Duke of Perth, as chief of the House of
Drummond, the eyes of the Jacobites were turned, with expectations which
were, to the utmost of the young nobleman's power, fulfilled. It was by
his mother's desire that he had been educated in France, where he was
confirmed in the principles of the Romish faith. He possessed, indeed,
some acquirements, and displayed certain qualities calculated to inspire
hope in those who depended upon his exertions that he would prove a
valuable adherent to the cause. Naturally courageous, his military turn
had been improved by a knowledge of the theory of war: his disposition
united great vivacity to the endearing qualities of benevolence and
liberality; he had the every-day virtues of good-nature, mildness, and
courtesy. His pursuits were creditable to a nobleman. He was skilled in
mathematics, an elegant draughtsman, a scholar in various languages, a
general lover of literature, and a patron of the liberal arts. Nor was a
fondness for horse-racing, in which he indulged, and in which his horses
frequently bore away the prize, likely to render him unpopular in the
eyes of his countrymen. But there were some serious drawbacks to the
utility of the young nobleman as a public man.

His health, in the first place, was precarious. When a child, a barrel
had been rolled over him, and a bruise was received in his lungs, to the
effects of which his friends attributed a weakness and oppression from
which he usually suffered at bed-time; when "he usually," as a
contemporary relates, "took a little boiled bread and milk, or some such
gentle food."[218] This was an inauspicious commencement of an active
and anxious career. It was afterwards discovered, that with all his
acquirements and accomplishments, and with his natural gallantry, the
Duke was no practical soldier.

In obtaining an influence over the minds of his countrymen, the young
Duke possessed one great advantage. He was descended from a House noted
for the highest principles of honour.[219]

"To give the reader an undeniable proof of the generous maxims of that
House," says the author of Lochiell's memoirs, "it will be proper to
notice, that, by the laws of Scotland, no person succeeding to an estate
is, in a legal sense, vested in the property until he serves himself
heir to the person from whom he derives his title. The heir often took
the advantage of this when the creditors were negligent, and passing by
his father, and perhaps his grandfather, served heir to him who was last
infefted; for unless they were actually seised of the estate according
to the forms of law, they were no more than simple possessors, and could
not encumber the land with any deed or debts; whereby the heir got clear
of all that intervened betwixt himself and the person whom he
represented by his service. This was an unjustifiable practice, which
the diligence of creditors might always have prevented; and which is now
wholly prevented by an act of parliament obliging every one possessing
an estate to pay the debts of his predecessors, as well as his own,
whether representing them by a service or not.

"But the House of Perth was always so firmly attached to honour and
justice, that there are no less than fifteen retours, descending
lineally from father to son, extant among their records.

"Now a retour is a writ returned from the Court of Attorney, testifying
the service of every succeeding heir; and is therefore an
unexceptionable evidence of paying his predecessor's debts, and of
performing his obligations and deeds. Such has been, and still is, the
uniform practice of the truly noble Lords of the House of Montrose and,
perhaps, some others of the ancient nobility have followed the same
course, which will not only entail a blessing upon their family and
posterity, but will likewise be a perpetual memorial of their integrity,
honour, and antiquity."

The young Duke of Perth fully maintained this high character of honour
and liberal dealings, and as a landholder and a chief, he would, had he
been spared, have proved himself a valuable member of society. He was,
relates an historian, a father to the poor;--and the interval of ten
years between his return to Scotland and the Rebellion was engaged in
establishing manufactures for the employment of his tenantry, and in
acts of beneficence. Unhappily, it was not long before political
combinations diverted the attention which was so well bestowed in the
improvement of his country.

In the beginning of the year 1740, seven persons of distinction signed
the association, engaging themselves to take arms, and to venture their
lives and fortunes for the Stuarts. Among these was the Duke of Perth.
This association was committed to Drummond of Bochaldy, who, besides,
carried with him a list of those chiefs and chieftains who, the
subscribers thought, were willing to join them, should a body of troops
land from France. This list contained so great a number of names, that
Murray of Broughton, in his evidence at the trial of Lord Lovat, said he
considered it to be "a general list of the Highlands;" a palpable
refutation of the reasoning of those who have represented the Jacobite
insurrection as a partial and factious movement.

The Duke of Perth had now irrevocably pledged himself to engage in the
cause, which required a very different character of mind to that which
he seems to have possessed. Like the unfortunate Lord Derwentwater, he
was calculated to adorn a smooth and prosperous course; but not to
contend with fiery spirits, nor to act in concert with overbearing
tempers. Averse to interference, and retiring in his disposition, the
Duke was conceived, by those who mistook arrogance for talent, to have
been possessed of only limited abilities. The friend or relative who
composed the epitaph to his memory inscribed on the Duke's tomb at
Antwerp, has borne testimony to the strength of his understanding. All
have coincided in commending the honour and faith which procured him the
respect of all parties, and the chivalric bravery which won him the
affection of the soldiery.

It is a melancholy task to trace the career of one so high-minded, so
gentle, and so formed to adorn the peaceful tenour of a country life,
through scenes of turmoil, disaster, and dismay; and, during the
continuance of arduous exertions, to recall the slow and certain
progress of a fatal disease, which progressed during hardships too
severe for the delicate frame of this amiable young man to sustain
without danger.

The younger brother of the Duke, Lord John Drummond, was constituted of
different materials. Courteous, honourable, and high-minded, like his
brother, he added to those attributes of the gentleman a strong capacity
for military affairs, to which he had applied himself from his earliest
youth. Intrepid and resolute, the roughness of the soldier was softened
in this fine martial character by an elegance and ease of manner which
sprang from a kind and gentle temper. The energy of Lord John Drummond's
mind was shown by the enlistment of the Scottish Legion, under the
protection of Louis the Fifteenth. In him the soldiers always knew that
they had a sure, and firm friend: like his brother, when on the
conquering side, clemency and humanity were never, even in the heat of
victory, forgotten by the young general. Individuals like these lamented
and unfortunate brothers give a mournful interest to the history of the
Jacobites.

The Duke of Perth was one of the most sanguine of those who desired to
see Charles Edward land on the coast of Scotland. Of the representations
which induced the Prince to take that step, and especially of the part
taken in the affair by the well-known Murray of Broughton, various
accounts have been given. From Mr. Home we learn, that Mr. Murray used
every argument in his power to deter the Prince from invading Scotland
without a regular force to support him. This account was doubtless the
version which the Secretary himself gave of his part in the business.
The statement of Lord Elcho differs greatly from that of Mr. Home.[220]

"Mr. Murray," says Lord Elcho, "in the beginning of the year 1745, sent
one young Glengarry to the Prince with a state of his affairs in
Scotland, in which it is believed he represented everybody that had ever
spoke warmly of the Stuart family, as people that would join him if he
came."[221] After Mr. Murray's own visit to France, he had an interview
with all the members of the Association, and there detailed to them the
conference he had had with the Prince. The Duke of Perth was the only
person who did not, in that council, expressly declare against the
Prince's coming to Scotland without assistance from France.

The battle of Fontenoy, on the eleventh of May 1745, in which the
British army was cut to pieces, encouraged, nevertheless, the ardent
spirit of Charles to proceed in his enterprise. The number of regular
troops in Scotland he well knew, was at that time inconsiderable; and he
had, as he conceived, from the representations of Murray, no other
opponents than the British army. He was, probably, wholly ignorant of
the powerful enemies who afterwards co-operated against him in the
south-western parts of Scotland.[222]

The Duke of Perth had already, in the beginning of the year, received,
as well as others, his commission. He was appointed General of the
forces in the north of Scotland, and was therefore one of the most
important personages for Government to seize. The Duke was at that time
at Drummond Castle, a place only exceeded in beauty and splendour, in
the Highlands, by Dunkeld and Blair. The aspect of this commanding
edifice is one which recalls the association of ancient power and
princely wealth. Beneath its walls is an expanse of a magnificent and
varied country, combining all those features which characterize lands
long held in peace by opulent and liberal possessors. "Noble avenues,
profuse woods," thus speaks one of unerring accuracy, "a waste of lawn
and pasture, an unrestrained scope, everything bespeaks the carelessness
of liberality and extensive possessions; while the ancient castle, its
earliest part belonging to the year 1500, stamps on it that air of high
and distant opulence which adds so deep a moral interest to the rural
features of baronial Britain."[223]

From the castle it was now attempted to make the Duke of Perth a
prisoner; but since it would have been impossible to detain a Chief,
prisoner in his own halls, and among his own retainers, a stratagem,
peculiarly revolting to the Highland code of honour, was adopted to
ensnare the young nobleman.

Two Highland officers, Sir Patrick Murray and Mr. Campbell of Inverary,
were employed in this transaction, and a warrant was given to them to
apprehend the Duke of Perth. This they knew to be impossible without a
large force; they therefore condescended to lower the character of
Scotchmen, by violating the first principles which regulate the
intercourse of gentlemen. They were base enough to abuse the
hospitality of the kind and ready host who had often welcomed them to
Drummond Castle.

One day, these gentlemen sent the Duke word that they should dine with
him; he returned, in answer, that he should be proud to see them. On the
twenty-sixth of July, 1745, they went, and were entertained at dinner
with the liberal courtesy which always shone forth under that roof. One
of the Duke's footmen, meantime, having espied an armed force about the
house, called his Grace to the door of the room, and begged him to take
care of himself. This caution was even repeated more than once; but the
Duke, trusting that others were like himself, only smiled, and said he
did not think that any gentleman "could be guilty of so dirty an
action." But he found that he was mistaken. After dinner, when the
officers had drunk a little, they took courage to inform the Duke of
their errand; and, to confirm their statement, one of them drew the
warrant out of his pocket. The Duke behaved with great presence of mind;
he received their summons calmly, but begged permission to retire to a
closet in the room where they were sitting, to get himself ready. This
was assented to: the Duke went into the closet, in which, however, there
was a door; he opened it and, slipping down a flight of stairs, escaped
to a wood adjacent to his Castle. This wood was already surrounded by an
armed force, and he was obliged to crawl on his hands and feet to avoid
being observed by the sentinels. In such a situation he was hindered and
wounded by briers and thorns, and at last was obliged to hide himself in
a dry ditch from his pursuers. They were, indeed, misled by the servants
at the Castle, who, upon their inquiring for the fugitive, declared
that he had gone away on horseback. The officers however on their return
to Crieff, where they were quartered, passed so near the place where he
lay, that he heard what they were saying. When all the soldiers were out
of sight, he sprang up; and seeing a countryman with a pony, having no
bridle, but only a halter about its neck, he begged to have the use of
it, and his request was granted. After this, he first rode to the house
of Mr. Murray of Abercairney, and afterwards to that of Mr. Drummond of
Logie. Here he was saved by one of those presentiments of evil which one
can neither explain nor deny. In the dead of night he was awakened by
his host, who begged the Duke to take refuge elsewhere; for fears, which
he could not account for, haunted his mind. The fugitive arose from his
bed, and set off elsewhere. Shortly afterwards the house was invaded by
a party of armed men, who came to search for him, but retired
disappointed. His next meeting with his faithless guest, Sir Patrick
Murray, was on the field of Gladsmuir, when the treacherous officer was
made prisoner. The Duke then took his revenge with characteristic
good-humour; for, after saluting the captured officer, he said
smilingly, "Sir Patie, I am to dine with _you_ to-day."[224]

After his escape from Logie, the Duke of Perth crossed over to Angus,
incognito, and, attended only by one servant, rode through the north
country without molestation, and arrived at the camp of Prince Charles.
Here he met the afterwards celebrated Roy Stuart, then a captain of
Grenadiers in Lord John Drummond's' regiment. That officer had embarked
at Helvoetsluys for Harwich, where he had scarcely arrived before the
ship in which he had sailed was searched by authority of a Government
warrant.

Charles Edward was at this time at Castle Mingry, whence accounts had
travelled to the capital of his arrival and projected hostilities. It
was long before his intentions were even believed; and, when believed,
they were treated at first with contempt. The Duke of Argyll, who was
then at Roseneath, had an intercepted letter of the Prince's put into
his hands, addressed to Sir Alexander Macdonald, together with a copy of
one to the Laird of Macleod. The Duke hastened to Edinburgh, and laid
these papers before Mr. Craigie the advocate. "What a strange chimera,"
said Craigie, laughing, "is it to suppose a young man with seven persons
capable of overturning a throne!" "His landing with seven persons only,"
replied Argyll gravely, "is a circumstance the more to be feared."[225]

Sir John Cope, nevertheless, long delayed obeying the orders of
Government to march northwards, although great pains were taken by some
of the Whig party to magnify the danger, and to add to the terrors of
the foe. Reports were even stated, in the presence of the magistrates,
of a camp in Ardnamirchan, which was a large Scots mile in
circumference,--of several ships of war hovering near the coast,--of
cannon of an enormous size; whilst the young Chevalier was described as
one of the strongest men in Christendom. All agreed that the invader had
chosen the period of his enterprise judiciously. Scotland contained but
few forces, and those were newly levied men, sufficient in number
merely to garrison the forts and to overawe smugglers.

Never was a country less prepared to receive an invasion,[226] and
General Cope's blunders soon encouraged the hopes of the Jacobites,
until they were elated beyond measure. The sanguine Charles Edward
pledged the General's health in a glass of brandy: "Here's a health to
Mr. Cope!" he cried, in the presence of his forces; "and, if all the
Usurper's generals follow his example, I shall soon be at St. James's."
The toast was given by the private soldiers, to whom whiskey was
distributed to drink it. Well furnished with artillery, of which the
insurgents were destitute, General Cope might have obtained an easy
victory, or at any rate have dispersed the Jacobite army. Happy would it
have been for Scotland, had the rebellion thus been extinguished, before
the brave had sunk in civil strife, or loyal hearts been broken in the
silent agony of imprisonment! Many acts of heroism, numberless traits of
fortitude, would indeed have been lost to the mournful admiration of
posterity; but the vigorous hand, which crushes a hopeless struggle in
its outset, is ever, in effect, the hand of mercy.

From this time the Duke of Perth shared in the short-lived triumph of
his Prince. He marched with the army to Dunkeld, where, supping in the
house of James, Duke of Atholl, who retired at their approach, the
unfortunate Charles Edward forced a gaiety which he was said, at that
time, not to feel; asked for Scottish dishes; and, having picked up a
few words of Gaelic, pledged the Highland officers in that tongue. The
Duke of Perth attended in the triumphant entrance into Perth on the
fourth of September. This was the first town of consequence that Charles
Edward had visited; and his appearance, mounted on a fine horse
presented to him by Major Macdonell, and dressed in a superb suit of
tartan trimmed with gold, produced a great impression upon the assembled
multitude, who greeted him with loud acclamations. He was conducted in
triumph to the house of Viscount Stormont, the eldest brother of the
celebrated Earl of Mansfield. Lord Stormont, though friendly to the
cause, was not disposed to risk his life and property for the Stuarts.
He withdrew from the dangerous honour of entertaining the Prince, yet
left his family to receive him with all loyalty, and the Chevalier took
up his abode at Lord Stormont's. It was an antique house with a wooden
front, which stood on the spot now occupied by the Perth Union Bank,
near the bottom of the High-street.[227] The evening was closed by a
ball given by the Prince to the ladies of the town. The Prince, probably
wearied by the day's proceedings, danced only one dance, and then
withdrew. His bed, it is said, was prepared by the fair hands of Lord
Stormont's sister.

On the following day a different scene took place, for all was not
compliment that Charles encountered in the loyal town of Perth. Mass
having been celebrated publicly, Charles was as publicly rebuked by a
minister of the Kirk, who reminded him of his father's failure in the
last Rebellion, which he attributed to his adherence to Popery, to
"which he had sacrificed his crown." "I prefer," replied the young
Chevalier boldly, "a heavenly crown to an earthly one!"[228]

The Duke of Perth had summoned many of his tenants to meet him at Blair,
where he required them to bring all the rent due, under pain of
punishment; and he now ordered them also to carry arms to the extent of
their power. He is said to have insisted upon his privilege as Chief,
with a degree of rigour which, when his power was exerted to force his
tenants into a course of certain peril, cannot be justified. Unhappily,
the practice was of too frequent occurrence among some of the chieftains
to permit us entirely to dismiss it as a calumny. The amiable Lord
Derwentwater, the brave Lord Southesk, as has been remarked elsewhere,
and proved by letters and contemporary statements, were not free from a
similar charge. The following anecdote is so little in accordance with
the forbearance assigned to the Duke of Perth both by enemies and
friends, that it must, however, be read with distrust. It is related by
James Macpherson:[229] speaking of the compulsory measures adopted, he
says, "To this oppression of the Duke of Perth's likewise several
submitted (such are the terrors of arbitrary power). Three however
resisted, declaring that besides the inconvenience which the neglect of
their affairs would subject them to, and the danger of the undertaking,
it was against their conscience to assist the cause of Popery against
the true religion of their country; to which one of them had the
boldness to add, he was sorry to see his Grace embarked in such a cause.
Upon this, the Duke, flying into a rage, snatched up a pistol which lay
in his tent, and immediately shot the poor man through the head. After
which the other two made their escape from him, and one from the camp,
the other being pursued and killed by one of the rebels, who was witness
to the whole transaction."

Whilst the army remained at Perth, a singular incident occurred, which
seems to prove that the subsequent surrender of Edinburgh was by no
means unexpected by Prince Charles.[230]

One evening, when Macpherson was on duty as one of the Prince's guards,
a person came to the camp, and was by his desire conducted to the
presence of the Chevalier. A long conference ensued, at which the Duke
of Perth and the Marquis of Tullibardine were present. Soon after the
departure of this stranger, it was rumoured that Edinburgh was to be
betrayed to the Jacobites, and that they were to take possession in a
few days. There must, therefore, have been some secret communication.

In the memorable events which followed this rumour, the Duke of Perth
continually shared. He rode by the side of Charles Edward when the
gallant adventurer, leaving Perth on the eleventh of September, crossed
the Firth at the Frew, and passed so near the walls of Stirling, that
the balls fired upon him and his forces from the castle fell within
twenty yards of the Prince. He proceeded on the march, commenced by the
Chevalier with the sum of only one guinea in his pocket, until they
arrived at Gray's Hill, a place two miles west of Edinburgh. Here
deputies from the town arrived to treat with Charles. "I do not treat
with subjects," was the Chevalier's reply; whilst the Duke of Perth
added, "The King's declaration, and the Prince's manifesto, are such as
every subject ought to accept with joy."

Meantime, a company of volunteers under the command of Captain Drummond,
a gentleman of very different political sentiments to those of the
majority of this name, had assembled in the College yard, when, after
being addressed by their gallant leader, they proffered their services
to aid the dragoons stationed in the city, under the command of General
Guest, in repelling the Jacobites. On Sunday, the fire-bell sounding in
the time of Divine service, emptied all the churches; and the people,
rushing into the streets, beheld the volunteers drawn up in the Lawn
Market, awaiting the arrival of the dragoons, with whom they were
prepared to march out of the town to repel the rebels. But this gallant
resolution was not put into execution; and a force of two thousand
strong, not half of the soldiery having fire-locks, was suffered to
force their way into a town garrisoned by two thousand seven hundred
soldiers, all well supplied with arms and ammunition.

That Edinburgh was surrendered by the treachery of its Provost, seems
beyond all doubt. Archibald Stewart, who held that office at this
critical moment, gave many indications of perfidy or cowardice, which
have been duly related, although with little comment, by historians.
Notwithstanding that the approach of the insurgents had been by measured
paces, and that they had advanced so leisurely as to spend some hours
lying on the bank of a rivulet near Linlithgow, no preparations for
defence had been made, although it was the wish of many of the
inhabitants to resist the Jacobite army. It had been found that all the
calms, or moulds for bullets, had been bought up; ladies having gone to
the shops where they were made, to purchase them. When the danger became
proximate, the Provost merely remarked, that, if the enemy wished to
enter, he did not know how they could be prevented. He viewed the
fortifications, it is true, and rummaged up some grenades that had lain
in a chest since 1715. But the most suspicious incident occurred during
a meeting of the Town Council, when a Highland spy, having a letter in
his hand, was apprehended, and brought before the assembly. The letter
was given to the Provost, who hurried it into his pocket, and in great
haste broke up the assembly.[231] In all the deliberations for the
defence of the city, it was perceived that Mr. Provost Stewart was a
dead-weight upon any measures of vigour; and nothing could have been
done to preserve Edinburgh from surrendering, unless he had been
absolutely bound in chains. Yet this unworthy magistrate, so faithless
to his trust, so discreditable an instrument of the Jacobite cause, was
afterwards acquitted, after a trial of four days, by the Lords
Justiciary.

The progress of that cause now appeared such as to promise success to
the future exertions of its partisans. On the seventeenth of September,
the Prince received the news that Edinburgh was taken, and a stand of
one thousand arms seized; a circumstance which added greatly to the joy
of the insurgents, who stood in need of arms. "When the army came near
town," writes Lord Elcho, "it was met by vast multitudes of people, who
by their repeated shouts and huzzas expressed a great deal of joy to see
the Prince. When they came into the suburbs, the crowd was prodigious,
and all wishing the Prince prosperity; in short, nobody doubted but that
he would be joined by ten thousand men at Edinburgh, if he could arm
them. The army took the road to Duddingston: Lord Strathallan marching
first, at the head of the horse; the Prince next, on horseback, with the
Duke of Perth on his right, and Lord Elcho on his left; then Lord George
Murray, on foot, at the head of the column of infantry. From
Duddingston, the army entered the King's Park, by a breach made in the
wall. Lord George halted some time in the park, but afterwards marched
the foot to Duddingston; and the Prince continued on horseback, always
followed by the crowd, who were happy if they could touch his boots, or
his horse furniture. In the steepest part of the road going down to the
Abbey, he was obliged to alight and walk; but the mob, out of
curiosity, and some out of fondness, to touch him or kiss his hand, were
like to throw him down: so, as soon as he was down the hill, he mounted
his horse and rode through St. Anne's Yard into Holyrood House, amidst
the cries of six thousand people, who filled the air with their
acclamations of joy. He dismounted in the inner court, and went up
stairs into the gallery; and from thence into the Duke of Hamilton's
apartments, which he occupied all the time he was at Edinburgh. The
crowd continued all night in the outer court of the Abbey, and huzzaed
every time the Prince appeared at the window. He was joined, upon his
entering the Abbey, by the Earl of Kelly, Lord Balmerino, Mr. Hepburn of
Keith, Mr. Lockhart younger of Carnwath, Mr. Graham younger of Airth,
Mr. Rollo younger of Powhouse, Mr. Stirling of Craigbarnet, Mr. Hamilton
of Bangor, Sir David Murray, and several other gentlemen of distinction:
but not one of the mob, who were so fond of seeing him, were asked to
enlist in his service; and, when he marched to fight Cope, he had not
one of them in his army."[232]

The Prince, who was thus received with acclamations into the home of his
forefathers, was at this time in the bloom of youth, being in the
twenty-fifth year of his age. Neither the agitation produced by the
events of that critical day on his sensitive temper, nor the fatigue of
the previous march to a young soldier, could diminish the grace of his
deportment, nor hide the natural majesty of his carriage. "The figure
and presence of Charles Stuart," even Home remarks, "were not
ill-suited to his lofty pretensions." He was in height about five feet
ten inches, of a slender form; his features were aquiline; his
complexion, though ruddy from the Highland air, was naturally fair. He
had the pointed chin, and small mouth in proportion to his other
features, of Charles the First. The colour of his eyes has been
variously described; being, according to some, "large rolling brown
eyes," whilst in many of his portraits he is depicted as having full
blue eyes.[233] The hair of Charles Stuart was concealed under a "pale
peruke;" but, is said to have been red, or, according to most of his
portraits, of a sandy hue. As he rode, with extreme grace, upon a fine
bay gelding presented to him by the Duke of Perth, the bystanders
remarked that an "irregular smile," as one of them has expressed it,
lighted up, by fits, a countenance which told but too plainly every
emotion of the heart. An anxious, watchful look was, at times, directed
to those around and near him; and, in particular, rested on the face of
Lord Elcho, who, though a gallant officer, the Prince may perhaps have
too well conjectured, was not, even at that early period, a sincere and
firm adherent. To the Duke of Perth, on the contrary, the ill-fated
young Chevalier showed a marked respect, and sat for some moments on
horseback in St. Anne's Yard, whilst the Duke, like "an intelligent
farmer, informed him of the different nature and produce of the
different parcels of ground."[234] Dressed, as he was, in the Highland
garb,--a blue sash wrought with gold coming over his shoulder, a green
velvet bonnet with a gold lace round it on his head, a white
cockade,--the cross of St. Andrew on his breast, his hand resting on a
silver-hilted sword, and a pair of pistols on his saddle;--associated in
the minds of all around him with the remembrance of Scotland in her
independence, and of Scottish monarchs in their greatness, the
enthusiasm which was inspired in a slow, but ardent people cannot be a
matter of surprise. Long did the remembrance of that day continue to be
cherished, in mingled pride and sorrow! It is true, the opinions of men
differed according to their secret bias. The Jacobites, who looked on
the young Prince, compared him to Robert the Bruce, to whom he bore,
they fancied, a resemblance. The Whigs beheld in him the gentleman of
fashion, but not the hero and the conqueror. All parties seem to have
remarked the dejection and languor of his manner as he prepared to enter
the palace of Holyrood.

It was, indeed, impossible, from the deportment of Charles on his first
introduction into Scotland, or from his conduct whilst his affairs
prospered, to comprehend the strength of his determination, or to
calculate upon his power of endurance. In prosperity he was, it is true,
brave, courteous, often amiable, often generous, but sometimes betraying
the petulance and obstinacy which historians have been fond of
considering as hereditary propensities in the heroic young man, but
which are the common attributes of the inexperienced and the spoiled. In
adversity he was meek, grateful, magnanimous; capable of forgetting his
own unparalleled sufferings, in considering those of others; never
breathing an accent of revenge; rising above fortune. He resembled
Charles the Second more in his hatred of shedding blood, than in his
vices, which were in the young Chevalier the effect of circumstances,
rather than of a depraved nature. He had the fortitude of Charles the
First: in truth, and right intention he exceeded both of these his
ancestors; and in this, as in other respects, he showed more of the
Scottish character, more of the true sense of Highland honour, than any
of his immediate predecessors in the Stuart line. Naturally gay, though
variable; quick and shrewd, rather than deep or strong in intellect;
easily to be flattered, too easily led by some, too wilful in resisting
the counsels of others,--as a Prince, as the head of a Court, he soon
won upon the affections of the people who beheld him; but there were
vital defects mingled with his great and good qualities, which well
verified the saying of the Whigs, "that he would prove neither a hero
nor a conqueror."

As the Prince walked along the piazza close to the apartment of the Duke
of Hamilton, a gentleman stepped out of the crowd, and, drawing his
sword, raised his arm aloft, and walked up stairs before Charles Edward.
The remarkable person who thus signalized his loyalty was James Hepburn
of Keith, a gentleman of learning and intelligence, whose Jacobitism was
of a more enlightened description than that of the party with whom he
thus identified himself. Since the insurrection of 1715, in which, when
a very young man, he had been engaged, Mr. Hepburn had become a
professed Jacobite. Yet he disclaimed the hereditary, indefeasible right
of Kings, and condemned the measures of James the Second. Cherishing
even these opinions, he had nevertheless kept himself during twenty
years ready to take up arms for Charles Edward, from a hatred to the
Union between England and Scotland, a measure which he deemed injurious
and humiliating to his country. Idolized by the Jacobites, beloved by
some of the Whigs, a "model of ancient simplicity, manliness and
honour,"[235] the accession of Hepburn to the Jacobite cause was
lamented by those who esteemed him, and who saw in his notions of the
independence of Scotland only a visionary speculation.

The entrance of Prince Charles had taken place early in the day: soon
after noon he was proclaimed Regent at the ancient Cross of Edinburgh,
and his father's manifesto was read in the same place. Six heralds in
their robes, with a trumpet, came to the Cross, which was surrounded by
the brave Camerons in three ranks. The streets and windows were crowded
to excess; whilst David Beato, a writing-master in Edinburgh, read the
papers to the heralds. The beautiful Mrs. Murray of Broughton sat on
horseback with a drawn sword in her hand beside the Cross, her dress
decorated with the white ribbon which was the token of adherence to the
House of Stuart. Whilst these events took place, a spectator in the
crowd, viewing clearly that all was the show of power, without the
substantial capacity to perpetuate it, resolved to write the history of
what, he foresaw, would be a short-lived though perhaps fierce contest.
He was not mistaken. This individual was Alexander Henderson.

The following account is given by Lord Elcho of the Chevalier's court
during the short time that he inhabited Holyrood House.[236]

"The Prince lived in Edinburgh, from the twenty-second of September to
the thirty-first of October, with great splendour and magnificence;--had
every morning a numerous court of his officers. After he had held a
council, he dined with his principal officers in public, where there was
always a crowd of all sorts of people to see him dine. After dinner he
rode out, attended by his life-guards, and reviewed his army; where
there were always a great number of spectators, in coaches and on
horseback. After the review he came to the Abbey, where he received the
ladies of fashion that came to his drawing-room. Then he supped in
public; and generally there was music at supper, and a ball afterwards.
Before he left Edinburgh, he despatched Sir James Stewart to manage his
affairs in the country and solicit succours."

This remarkable scene was soon followed by the battle of Preston Pans.
The memorable words of Charles Edward before the victory, "I have flung
away the scabbard!" were followed by a total rout of the King's troops.
The Duke of Perth was appointed Lieutenant-general of the forces. After
the engagement which ensued, when the heat of the contest was over, he
distinguished himself in a manner in which every brave and loyal man
would wish to imitate his example,--by saving the lives of the
combatants. His tenantry, commanded by Lord Nairn, were among the most
eager of the combatants on that day. When the defeat of the King's
troops was manifest, a terrible carnage ensued. Some of the conquered
threw down their arms, and begged for quarter, which was refused them;
others, who fled into the enclosures, were murdered; and all who were
overtaken were cut in the most cruel manner by broad-swords and Lochaber
axes.

The kind-hearted Duke of Perth, seeing this slaughter, made a signal to
Cameron of Lochiel to stop the impetuosity of his men; and sent his
aid-de-camp, or, as he was then called, his gentleman, for that purpose.
No sooner had the Duke done this, than he sprang himself upon a fleet
bay mare, a racer, which had won the King's plate at Leith some years
before; and, taking a Major of the King's troops along with him, "shot
like an arrow through the field," and saved numbers: as also did his
gentleman, Mr. Stuart.[237]

But these efforts were insufficient to prevent a cruel and terrible
destruction of some of the bravest and best of the British officers. In
the battle of Preston Pans fell the famous Colonel Gardiner. His fate
was, it is said, envied by General Cope, who, witnessing the destruction
of his army, wished to have died on the field.

Whilst the Highlanders were carried away to the house of Colonel
Gardiner, close by, the young Chevalier stood by the road-side, having
sent to Edinburgh by the advice of the Duke of Perth for surgeons. At
this moment, Henderson, that spectator of the proclamation who had
resolved to write a history of the war, having slept at Musselburgh,
only at two miles' distance, the night before, stepped forward to take a
survey of the field. "It was one scene of horror, capable," writes this
historian,[238] "of softening the hardest heart, being strewed not so
much with the dead as with the wounded: the broken guns, halberts,
pikes, and canteens showing the work of the day. In the midst of this
distressing spectacle, an act of mercy shone forth, like a light from
Heaven." "Major Bowles," continues Henderson, "of Hamilton's Dragoons,
being dismounted, the enemy fell upon and wounded him in eleven
different places; and just as some inhuman wretch was fetching a stroke,
which perhaps would have proved mortal, Mr. Stuart threw up his sword
and awarded the blow."

From Preston Pans Charles Edward rode to Pinkie House, a seat of the
Marquis of Tweedale. In the elation of victory, a consideration which
can alone excuse the disregard of the sufferings of others which the
foregoing narrative states, the Prince is said to have left the bulk of
the wounded upon the field until the next day, when they were brought in
carts to the infirmary of Edinburgh. The neighbourhood was afterwards
scattered over with the wounded who recovered, and who begged throughout
the country, where they met with kindness and humanity from all, except
from the Adventurers, as they were called. Such is the testimony of one
who has not failed to bear witness to acts of humanity where they really
existed; and it would be unfair to suppress the statements of
contemporaries on either side of the question. At the same time, this
account is wholly at variance with the deep sorrow afterwards betrayed
by Charles when he spoke of the sufferings of the Scottish people on his
account; nor is it consistent with the sensibility and humanity evinced,
as the same historian avows, by the Duke of Perth.[239]

Upon the return of Prince Charles to Edinburgh, in order to carry on
affairs with every appearance of royalty, he appointed a council, who
met every day at Holyrood House at ten o'clock for the despatch of
business. The members of this council were the two Lieutenants-general,
the Duke of Perth, and Lord George Murray, who had been appointed in
conjunction with the former; Secretary Murray; Sullivan,
Quarter-master-general; Lord Pitsligo, Lord Elcho, Sir Thomas Sheridan,
and all the Highland chiefs.

The fine characteristics, and powerful mind of Lord George Murray, and
the prominent part which he took in the insurrection, demand a long and
separate account. Among the rest of this ill-starred council, the
principal members in point of rank, if not of influence, were Alexander,
Lord Forbes of Pitsligo, who, after the battle of Preston, joined the
Prince's standard with a troop of a hundred horse. The character of this
nobleman gave his example a great influence among all who knew him, and
who respected the ardent piety, bordering upon fanaticism, which
characterized his religious sentiments, and the heartfelt earnestness
of his political opinions. Early in life this venerable man had sworn
allegiance to William the Third, and taken his seat in Parliament; he
became, however, an opponent to the Union, and, from the period of that
measure, his course was a decided system of calm and steady adherence to
Jacobite principles. He engaged in the rebellion of 1715, yet by the
forbearance of Government was permitted to retain his title and estate.
He now again embarked in the same adventurous cause, leaving the study
of moral philosophy, on which he had written several essays, and the
security of a private career, for the sake of conscience. No hope of
gain, no inducement of ambition, lured this adherent of Charles Edward
to the standard of the Stuarts. Aged, and so infirm that he was
compelled by his bodily weakness to accept the generous proposal of
Charles Edward to travel on all the marches in the Prince's carriage,
whilst the Chevalier walked at the head of his army, Lord Pitsligo again
came forward at what he conceived to be the dictates of duty. His
example drew many others into the undertaking. Of course, his subsequent
history closed in the usual melancholy manner: his life was, it is true,
spared; but his estates were forfeited, and his title extinguished. He
died at Auchiries, in Aberdeenshire.

David, Lord Elcho, who held also a place in the council, and who was
colonel of the first troop of Horseguards, was the son of James, fourth
Earl of Wemyss, and of Janet the daughter of Colonel Francis Charteris
of Amisfield, whose immense property was afterwards vested in the Wemyss
family. Lord Elcho was at this time only twenty-four years of age, and
therefore his appointment to the colonelcy of the horse was a signal
compliment to his abilities. Of his personal character much may be
gleaned from his unpublished narrative, written in a dry, caustic, and
uninspiring style; and penned by one who seems to have desired to do
justice, but whose personal dislike to the young Chevalier over-masters
his inclination to the cause. Notwithstanding a plain disapproval of
many measures, and a marked conviction of the wilfulness of his young
leader, Lord Elcho was true to the cause which he had adopted. His
account of the manner in which the council of the Regent, as he was
styled, was conducted, is so characteristic, not only of those to whom
he refers, but of his own mind, that I shall give it in the unvarnished
phraseology in which he composed it.[240]

"The Prince in his council used always first to declare what he was for,
and then he asked everybody's opinion in their turn. There was one-third
of the council whose principles were, that Kings and Princes can never
either act, or think wrong; so, in consequence, they always confirmed
whatever the Prince said. The other two-thirds, who thought that Kings
and Princes thought sometimes like other men, and were not altogether
infallible, and that this Prince was no more so than others, begged
leave to differ from him, when they could give sufficient reasons for
their difference of opinion, which very often was no hard matter to do;
for as the Prince and his old governor, Sir Thomas Sheridan, were
altogether ignorant of the ways and customs in Great Britain, and both
much for the doctrine of absolute monarchy, they would very often, had
they not been prevented, have fallen into blunders which might have hurt
the cause. The Prince could not bear to hear anybody differ in sentiment
from him, and took a dislike to everybody that did; for he had a notion
of commanding this army, as any general does a body of mercenaries, and
so let them know only what he pleased, and they obey without inquiring
further about the matter. This might have done better had his favourites
been people of the country; but they were Irish, and had nothing at
stake. The Scotch, who ought to be supposed to give the best advice they
were capable of giving, thought they had a little right to know, and be
consulted in what was for the good of the cause in which they had so
much concern; and, if it had not been for their insisting strongly upon
it, the Prince, when he found that his sentiments were not always
approved of, would have abolished his council long ere he did. There was
a very good paper sent one day by a gentleman in Edinburgh, to be
perused by this council. The Prince, when he heard it read, said that it
was below his dignity to enter into such a reasoning with subjects, and
ordered the paper to be laid aside. The paper afterwards was printed
under the title of the Prince's Declaration to the People of England,
and is esteemed the best manifesto published in those times; for the
ones that were printed at Rome and Paris were reckoned not well
calculated for the present age."

Before the Prince had left Edinburgh, intrigues had begun to distract
his councils. "An ill-timed emulation," remarks an eye-witness of the
rebellion, "soon crept in, and bred great dissension and animosities:
the council was insensibly divided into factions, and came to be of
little use, when measures were approved of, or condemned, not for
themselves, but for the sake of their author."[241] Unhappily, the Duke
of Perth, amiable, but inexperienced and unsuspecting, confided in one
whose machinations, guided by an unbounded love of rule, eventually
accelerated the ruin of the cause.

The very name of Murray of Broughton recalls with a shudder the
remembrance of selfish ambition and treachery. This unprincipled man,
private secretary to Charles Edward, had a remarkable influence over the
young Chevalier's mind; an influence acquired during a long and intimate
acquaintance abroad. "He was," observes Mr. Maxwell, "the only personal
acquaintance the Prince found in Scotland." To a desire of having the
sole government of the Prince's council he "sacrificed what chance there
was of a restoration, although upon that all his hopes were built." The
expedition to Scotland and England was, according to the same authority,
the entire suggestion of Murray; and the credit of that success which
had hitherto attended the attempt, was now solely attributed to the
secretary's advice. "The Duke of Perth," adds the same writer, "judging
of Murray's heart by his own, entertained the highest opinion of his
integrity, went readily into all his schemes, and confirmed the Prince
in the esteem he had already conceived for Murray."

The man whom Murray most dreaded as a rival was Lord George Murray, the
coadjutor with the Duke of Perth in the command of the army; and it soon
became no difficult task, not only to persuade Prince Charles, who knew
but little personally of Lord George, that that impetuous but honest man
was a traitor, but also to inspire the amiable Duke of Perth with
suspicions foreign to his generous nature. Few of the calm spectators of
the struggle were very sanguine as to its result; but the moderate hopes
which they dared to entertain were all dashed to the ground by the
unbridled love of sway which the secretary indulged, and which filled
him with a base and bitter enmity towards men of talent and influence.
Too truly is the effect of his representations told in these few and
simple words, written by one who was devotedly attached to the misled,
confiding Charles, upon whose ignorance of the world Murray condescended
to practise.[242]

"All those gentlemen that joined the Prince after Murray, were made
known under the character he thought fit to give them; and all
employments about the Prince's person, and many in the army, were of his
nomination. These he filled with such as he had reason to think would
never thwart his measures, but be content to be his tools and creatures
without aspiring higher. Thus, some places of the greatest trust were
given to little insignificant fellows; while there were abundance of
gentlemen of figure and merit that had no employment at all, and who
might have been of great use, had they been properly employed. Those
that Murray had thus placed, seconded his little dirty views: it was
their interest, too, to keep their betters at a distance from the
Prince's person and acquaintance. These were some of the disadvantages
the Prince laboured under during this whole expedition."

As soon as the expedition into England was decided, a gentleman was
dispatched to France to hasten the assistance expected from that
quarter. The first intention of the insurgents was to march to
Newcastle, and give battle to General Wade; then to proceed, if the
Prince proved victorious, by the eastern coast to England, in order to
favour the expected landing of the French upon that side. This scheme
was overruled by Lord George Murray, with what success history has
declared. It was natural, when all was lost, for those who wished well
to the cause, to retrace their steps, and to desire that any measures
had been adopted, rather than those which had proved so disastrous: but
this is the common feeling of regret, and cannot be relied on as the
sober dictate of judgment.

On his departure from Edinburgh, the young Chevalier was followed by the
good will of many who had viewed his arrival with regret. The people,
says Maxwell of Kirkconnel, "were affected with the dangers they
apprehended he might be exposed to, and doubtful whether they ever
should see him again."[243] "Everybody was mightily taken," adds the
same writer, "with the Prince's figure and personal behaviour. There was
but one voice about them." What was still more important, the short
duration of military rule exercised by Charles Edward had been so
conducted as to create no disgust. The guard of the city had been
entrusted to Cameron of Lochiel, the younger; and under his firm and
judicious controul, the persons and effects of the citizens, had been as
secure as in time of peace. "The people had the pleasure of seeing the
whole apparatus of war, without feeling the effects of it."[244] Day
after day some new and graceful instance of the humanity and kindness of
the young Chevalier's disposition had transpired. At this period of his
life there was a degree of magnanimity in the sentiments of one, of
whose principles despair, and the desertion of his friends afterwards
made such a wreck. The following trait of this ill-fated young man is
too beautiful--it reflects too much credit, through him, upon the party
of whom he was the head--to be omitted; more especially as the narrative
from which it is taken is not in the hands of general readers.

"But what gave people the highest idea of him was, the negative he gave
to a thing that very nearly concerned his interest, and upon which the
success of his enterprise perhaps depended. It was proposed to send one
of the prisoners to London, to demand of that court a cartel for the
exchange of prisoners taken and to be taken during this war, and to
intimate that a refusal would be looked upon as a resolution on their
part to give no quarter. It was visible a cartel would be of great
advantage to the Prince's affairs: his friends would be more ready to
declare for him, if they had nothing to fear but the chance of war in
the field; and, if the Court of London refused to settle a cartel, the
Prince was authorised to treat his prisoners in the same manner that the
Elector of Hanover was determined to treat such of the Prince's friends
as might fall into his hands. It was urged, a few examples would compel
the Court of London to comply. It was to be presumed that the officers
of the English army would make a point of it. They had never engaged in
the service, but upon such terms as are in use among all civilized
nations, and it would be no stain on their honour to lay down their
commissions if these terms were not observed; and, that, owing to the
obstinacy of their own Prince. Though this scheme was plausible, and
represented as very important, the Prince could never be brought into
it; it was below him to make empty threats, and he would never put such
as those into execution; he would never, in cold blood, take away lives
which he had saved in heat of action at peril of his own."[245]

On the thirty-first of October, the Prince set out from Holyrood House
in the evening, amid a crowd of people assembled to bid him farewell. On
the following day he joined one column of his army at Dalkeith. The army
marched in two columns, by different roads, to Carlisle: that which the
Prince commanded, and which was conducted by Lord George Murray, was
composed of the Guards, and the Clans; Charles Edward marched on foot at
the head of the Highlanders, and the Guards led the van. The other
column went by Peebles and Moffat, having with them the artillery and
heavy baggage. It was composed of the Atholl brigade, the Duke of
Perth's regiment, Lord Ogilvie, of Glenbucket, and Roy Stuart's
regiment. The greater part of the horse was commanded by the Duke of
Perth. A week afterwards these two columns were re-united, and the
troops were quartered in villages to the west of Carlisle.

On the thirteenth of October the town of Carlisle was invested by the
Duke of Perth and Lord George Murray, with the horse and Lowland
regiments. The conduct of the Duke of Perth, during the siege of five
days which ensued, has been a subject of eulogy for every writer who has
undertaken to relate the affairs of the period. The siege was attempted
in the face of many difficulties, the Prince having no battering cannon;
so that, if the town had been well defended, it would have been found
impossible to reduce it: still, being a place of great strength, and the
key to England, he resolved to make the attempt.

It was in this undertaking that the Duke of Perth reaped the benefit of
his scientific knowledge of the art of war, and that he showed a degree
of skill as well as of military ardour, which would, had his life been
spared, have rendered him an excellent general. The castle of Carlisle,
built upon the east angle of the fortifications, was of course the
object of his attack. On Tuesday, the thirteenth of October, after his
return from Brampton, where the Prince remained with the Clans to cover
the siege, the Duke began his operations. His officers had forced four
carpenters to go along with them in order to assist in erecting the
batteries. In short, all ablebodied men were seized on by the
insurgents, and those who had horses and ladders were constrained to
carry them to the siege of Carlisle.

The Duke then "broke ground," to use a military expression, about three
hundred yards from the citadel, at the Spring Garden; and encountered
the fire of the cannon from the town, approaching so near that the
garrison even threw grenadoes at them. On Wednesday, the trenches were
opened, and were conducted by Mr. Grant, chief engineer, whose skill was
greatly commended. On Friday morning, batteries were erected within
forty fathoms of the walls. During all this time the cannon and small
arms from the castle played furiously, but with so little destruction to
the besiegers, that only two men were killed.

The weather was so intensely cold, that even the Highlanders could
scarcely sustain its inclemency; yet the Duke of Perth and the Marquis
of Tullibardine, the one delicate in constitution, the other broken and
in advancing age, worked at the trenches like any common labourer, in
their shirts. On the Friday, when the cannon began to play, and the
scaling-ladders were brought out for an assault, a white flag was hung
out, and the city offered to surrender. An express was sent to the
Chevalier at Brampton; whose answer was, "that he would not do things by
halves," and that the city had no reason to expect terms, unless the
castle surrendered also. That event took place, in consequence,
immediately; and the capitulation was signed by the Duke of Perth, and
by Colonel Durand, who had been sent from London to defend Carlisle. In
the afternoon of the same day, the Duke of Perth entered the town, and
took possession in the name of James the Third, whose manifesto was
read; the mayor and aldermen attending the Duke, the sword and mace
being carried before them.

The Duke of Perth won many of those who were enemies to Charles Edward,
over to his cause, by the humanity and civility with which he treated
the conquered citizens, over whom he had the chief command until Charles
arrived. But even the important advantage thus gained could not still
the animosities which had been kindled in the breasts of those who ought
to have laid aside all private considerations for the good of their
common undertaking. Hitherto Lord George Murray and the Duke of Perth
had had separate commands, and had not interfered with each other until
the siege of Carlisle. Here the Duke had acted as the chief in command;
he had directed the attack, signed the capitulation, and given orders in
the town until the Prince arrived. This was a precedent for the whole
campaign, and it ill-suited the fiery temper of Lord George Murray to
brook it tamely. There was, indeed, much to be said in favour of Lord
George's alleged wrongs, in this preference of one so young and
inexperienced as the Duke of Perth. In the first place, Lord George was
an older Lieutenant-General than his rival; nor could it be agreeable to
his Lordship to serve under a man so much his inferior in age and
experience. "Lord George," observes Mr. Maxwell, "thought himself the
fittest man to be at the head of the army; nor was he the only person
that thought so. Had it been left to the gentlemen of the army to choose
a general, Lord George would have carried it by vast odds against the
Duke of Perth." But there was still another pretext, which was insisted
upon as a reason less offensive to the Duke of Perth, whose gentle and
noble qualities had much endeared him even to those who did not wish to
see him chief in command; this was his religious persuasion. It was
argued that, at that time in England, Roman Catholics were excluded from
all employments, civil and military, by laws anterior to the Revolution;
it was contended that these laws, whether just or not, ought to be
complied with until they were repealed; and that a defiance of these
laws would confirm all that had been heard of old from the press and
from the pulpit, of the Prince's designs to subvert both Church and
State: neither could it be alleged in excuse for the young Prince, that
a superiority of genius or of experience had won this distinction, in
opposition to custom, for the Duke of Perth.

Whilst these murmurs distracted the camp, immediately after the
surrender of Carlisle, Lord George Murray resigned his commission of
Lieutenant-General, and informed the Prince that thenceforth he would
serve as a volunteer. Upon this step, Mr. Maxwell, who seems to have
known intimately the merits of the case, makes the following temperate
and beautiful reflection.[246] "It would be rash in me to pretend to
determine whether ambition, or zeal for the Prince's service, determined
Lord George to take this step; or, if both had a share in it, which was
predominant: it belongs to the Searcher of hearts to judge of an action
which might have proceeded from very different motives."

Under these circumstances, violent discussions took place in the army;
and the result was, the wise resolution on the part of a certain
officer, not improbably Mr. Maxwell himself, to represent the
consequences of these altercations to the Duke of Perth. The undertaking
was one of delicacy and difficulty; but the individual who undertook it
had not miscalculated the true gentlemanly humility, the real dignity
and disinterestedness, of the gallant man to whom he addressed himself.
The narrative goes on as follows:

"A gentleman who had been witness to such conversation, and dreaded
nothing so much as dissension in a cause which could never succeed but
by unanimity, resolved to speak to the Duke of Perth upon this
ungrateful subject. He had observed that those that were loudest in
their complaints were least inclined to give themselves any trouble in
finding out a remedy."

"The Duke, who at this time was happy, but not elevated, upon his
success, reasoned very coolly on the matter. He could never be convinced
that it was unreasonable that he should have the principal command; but
when it was represented to him, that since that opinion prevailed,
whether well or ill founded, the Prince's affairs might equally suffer,
he took his resolution in a moment; said he never had anything in view
but the Prince's interest, and would cheerfully sacrifice everything to
it. And he was as good as his word; for he took the first opportunity of
acquainting the Prince with the complaints that were against him,
insisted upon being allowed to give up his command, and to serve
henceforth at the head of his regiment."

After his resignation, the Duke of Perth sank gracefully into the duties
of the post assigned to him. But his ardour in the cause was unsubdued;
and he was frequently known, during the march from Carlisle to Derby, to
ride down three horses a day when information of the enemy was to be
procured.

The short sojourn of the Prince at Derby, and the inglorious retreat,
have been detailed by the various biographers and historians of that
period; but, amongst the various accounts which have been given, that
which is contained in a letter from Derby has not hitherto been
presented to the reader, except in a collection rarely to be met with,
and now but little known.[247]

On Wednesday, the 4th of December (1745), two of the insurgents entered
the town, inquired for the magistrates, and demanded billets for nine
thousand men, and more. A short time afterwards the vanguard broke into
the town, consisting of about thirty men, clothed in blue faced with
gold, and scarlet waistcoats with gold lace; and, being "likely men,"
they made a good appearance. They were drawn up in the market-place, and
remained there two hours; at the same time the bells were rung, and
bonfires were lighted, in order to do away with the impression that the
Chevalier's vanguard had been received disrespectfully. About three
o'clock Lord Elcho, on horseback, arrived at the head of the
Life-guards, about one hundred and fifty men, the flower of the army,
who rode gallantly into the town, dressed like the vanguard, making a
very fine display. The Guards were followed by the main body of the
army, who marched in tolerable order, two or three abreast, with eight
standards, mostly having white flags and a red cross; the bag-pipers
playing as they entered. Whilst they were in the market-place, they
caused the Chevalier to be proclaimed King, and then asked for the
magistrates. These functionaries appeared without their gowns of office,
having cautiously sent them out of the town; a circumstance which was
with some difficulty excused by the insurgents.

In the dusk of the evening Charles Edward arrived: he walked on foot,
attended by many of his men, who followed him to Exeter House, where the
Prince remained until his retreat northwards. Here he had guards placed
all round the house, and here he maintained the semblance of a Court, in
the very heart of that country which he so longed to enter.

The temporary abode of Charles Edward still remains in perfect repair,
and much in the same state, with the exception of change of furniture,
as when he held levees there. Exeter House at that time belonged to
Brownlow, Earl of Exeter, whose connexion with the town of Derby was
owing to his marriage with a lady of that city. The house stands back
from Full Street, and is situated within a small triangular court. An
air of repose, notwithstanding the noise of a busy and important town,
characterizes this interesting dwelling. It is devoid of pretension; its
gables and chimneys proclaim the Elizabethan period. A wide staircase,
rising from a small hall, leads to a square, oak-panelled drawing-room,
the presence-chamber in the days of the ill-fated Charles. On either
side are chambers, retaining, as far as the walls are concerned, much of
the character of former days, but furnished recently. One of these
served the Prince as a sleeping-room; the rest were occupied by his
officers of state, and by such of his retinue as could be accommodated
in a house of moderate size. The tenement contains many small rooms and
closets, well adapted, had there been need, for concealment and escape.

The back of Exeter House is picturesque in the extreme. The character of
the building is here more distinctly ancient; and its architecture is
uniform, though simple. Beyond the steps by which you descend from a
spacious dining-room, is a long lawn, enclosed between high walls, and
extending to the brink of the river Derwent. A tradition prevails in
Derby, that, after the retreat, one of the Highland officers who had
been left behind, hearing of the approach of the Duke of Cumberland's
army, escaped through this garden, and, plunging into the river, swam
down its quiet waters for a considerable distance, until he gained a
part of the opposite shore where he thought he might land without
detection. Another more interesting association connects the spot with
the poet Dr. Darwin, who is said to have planted some willows which grow
on the opposite side of the river to Exeter House.

Here Charles remained for some days. The Dukes of Atholl and Perth, and
the other noblemen who commanded regiments, together with Lady Ogilvie
and Mrs. Murray of Broughton, were lodged in the best gentlemen's
houses. Every house was tolerably well filled; but the Highlanders
continued pouring in till ten or eleven o'clock, until the burgesses of
Derby began to think they "should never have seen the last of them." "At
their coming in," says the writer of the letter referred to, "they were
generally treated with bread, cheese, beer and ale, while all hands were
aloft getting supper ready. After supper, being weary with their long
march, they went to rest, most upon straw-beds, some in beds." On Friday
morning, only two days after the minds of the inhabitants had been
agitated by the arrival of the Jacobites, they heard the drums beat to
arms, and the bag-pipers playing about the town. It was supposed that
this was a summons to a march to Loughborough, on the way to London; but
a very different resolution had been adopted.

The Prince's council had, the very morning before, met to advise their
inexperienced leader as to the steps which he might deem it advisable to
take. The memorable decision to return to the north was not arrived at
without a painful scene, such as those who felt deeply the situation of
the Chevalier could never forget. The sentiments with which the ardent
young man listened to the proposal are thus detailed by Mr. Maxwell. The
statement at once exonerates the Prince of two faults with which his
memory has been taxed, those of cowardice and obstinacy. To a coward the
great risk of advancing would have appeared in strong colours. An
obstinate man would never have yielded to the arguments which were
proffered. The description which Maxwell gives of the Prince's
flatterers is such as too fatally applies to the generality of those who
have not the courage to be sincere.[248]

"The Prince, naturally bold and enterprising, and hitherto successful in
everything, was shocked with the mention of a retreat. Since he set out
from Edinburgh, he had never a thought but of going on, and fighting
everything he found in his way to London. He had the highest idea of the
bravery of his own men, and a despicable opinion of his enemies: he had
hitherto had reason for both, and was confirmed in these notions by some
of those who were nearest his person. These sycophants, more intent upon
securing his favour than promoting his interest, were eternally saying
whatever they thought would please, and never hazarded a disagreeable
truth."[249]

The Duke of Perth coincided, on this occasion, with Charles in wishing
to advance; or, to use the words of Lord George Murray, "the Duke of
Perth was for it, since his Royal Highness was."[250] It now seems to be
admitted that the judgment of the strong mind of Lord George Murray was
less sound in this instance than the opinion of those who were more
guided by feeling than by reflection, less cautious than the sagacious
General, less willing and less able to balance the arguments on either
side.[251]

"There are not a few," remarks Mr. Maxwell, "who still think the Prince
would have carried his point had he gone on from Derby. They built much
upon the confusion there was at London, and the panic which prevailed
among the Elector's troops at this juncture. It is impossible to decide
with any degree of certainty whether he would or would not have
succeeded; that depended upon the disposition of the Army, and of the
City of London, ready to declare for the Prince."

Never had the soldiery been in greater spirits than during their stay at
Derby; but the deepest dejection prevailed, when, in spite of some
manoeuvres to deceive them, they found themselves on the road to
Ashbourn. The despair and disgust of the Prince were as painful to
behold, as they were natural. He had played for the highest stake, and
lost it. Yet one there was who could look on the drooping figure of the
disconsolate young man as he followed the van of the army, and attribute
to ill-humour the dejection of that ardent and generous mind. The
following is an extract from Lord Elcho's narrative.

"Doncaster.--The Prince, who had marched all the way to Derby on foot at
the head of a column of infantry, now mounted on horseback, and rode
generally after the van of the army, and appeared to be out of humour.
Upon the army marching out of Derby, Mr. Morgan, an English gentleman,
came up to Mr. Vaughan, who was riding in the Life-guards, and after
saluting him said, 'D---- me, Vaughan, they are going to Scotland!' Mr.
Vaughan replied, 'Wherever they go, I am determined, now I have joined
them, to go along with them.' Upon which Mr. Morgan said with an oath,
'I had rather be _hanged_ than go to Scotland to _starve_.' Mr. Morgan
_was hanged_ in 1746; and Mr. Vaughan is an officer in Spain."[252]

In six days afterwards the Jacobite army arrived at Preston, and from
this place, where the Prince halted, he sent the Duke of Perth to
Scotland to summon his friends from Perth to join him, in order to renew
the attack upon England. The Prince was resolved to retire only until he
met that reinforcement, and then to march to London, be the consequence
what it would.[253] But this scheme, so dearly cherished by Charles, was
impracticable. The Duke of Perth, taking with him an escort of seventy
or eighty horse, set out for Kendal. He was assailed as he passed
through that place by a mob, which he dispersed by firing on them, and
resumed his march; but near Penrith he was attacked by a far more
formidable force in a band of militia both horse and foot, greatly
superior in numbers to his troops, and was obliged to retire to Kendal.
On the fifteenth he rejoined the Prince's army, after this fruitless
attempt. The retreat of the Prince's army, managed as it was with
consummate skill by Lord George Murray, continued without any division
of the forces until they had passed the river Esk. There the army
separated; and the Duke of Perth commanding one column of the army took
the eastern line to Scotland, while Charles marched to Annan in
Dumfrieshire.

The siege of Stirling is the next event of note in which we find the
Duke of Perth engaged. He here acted again as Lieutenant-General, and
commanded the siege. Here, too, the valour and fidelity of two other
members of his family were again proved. Lord John Drummond, who had
landed in Scotland while the Jacobites were at Derby, with the French
brigade, was slightly wounded in the battle of Falkirk. He had the
honour of being near the Prince in the centre of the battle with his
grenadiers; and it was on his artillery and engineers that the Chevalier
chiefly depended for success in reducing Stirling. Lord Strathallan had
also assembled his men, and joined the army.

While the Prince's army were flushed with the victory of Falkirk, the
alternative of again marching to London, or of continuing the siege of
Stirling, was discussed. The last-mentioned plan was unhappily adopted;
and the Duke of Perth called upon General Blakeney to surrender. The
answer was, that the General had always hitherto been regarded as a man
of honour, and that he would always behave himself as such, and would
hold out the place as long as it was tenable. Upon this, fresh works
were erected; and Monsieur Mirabel, the chief engineer, gave it as his
opinion that the castle would be reduced in a few days. The unfortunate
result of that ill-advised siege, and the consequent retreat of the
Prince from Stirling, have been, with every appearance of reason, as
much blamed as the retreat from Derby. It was a fatal resolution, and
one which was not adopted by the Prince without sincere reluctance, and
not until after a strong representation, signed at Falkirk by Lord
George Murray and by all the Clans, begging that his Royal Highness
would consent to retreat, had been presented to him. The great desertion
that had taken place since the battle was adduced as a reason for this
movement; and the siege of Stirling, it was also urged, must necessarily
be raised, on account of the inclemency of the weather, which the
soldiers could hardly bear in their trenches, and the impaired state of
the artillery.[254]

The winter was passed in a plan of operations, for which the generalship
of Prince Charles, or rather the able judgment of Lord George Murray,
has been eulogized. Making the neighbourhood of Inverness the centre,
from which he could direct all the operations of his various generals,
the Prince employed his army of eight thousand men extensively and
usefully. The siege of Fort William was carried on by Brigadier
Stapleton; Lord George Murray had invested Blair Castle; Lord John
Drummond was making head against General Bland; the Duke of Perth was in
pursuit of Lord Loudon. This portion of the operations was attended with
so much difficulty and danger, that Charles must have entertained a high
opinion of him to whom it was entrusted.

Lord Cromartie had been already sent to disperse, if possible, Lord
Loudon's little army; but that skilful and estimable nobleman had
successfully eluded his adversary, who found it impossible either to
entice him into an action, or to force him out of the country. Lord
Loudon had taken up his quarters at Dornoch, on the frith which divides
Rosshire from Sutherland. Here he was secure, as Lord Cromartie had no
boats. It was therefore deemed necessary to have two detachments; one to
guard the passage of the frith, the other to go by the head of it. This
was a matter of some difficulty, for the Prince had at that time hardly
as many men at Inverness as were necessary to guard his person. It was,
however, essential to attack Lord Loudon, whose army cut off all
communication with Caithness, whence the Prince expected provisions and
men. In this dilemma an expedient had been thought of some time
previously, and preparations had been made for it; but the execution was
extremely dangerous. Mr. Maxwell gives the following account of it:[255]

"All the fishing-boats that could be got on the coast of Moray had been
brought to Findhorn; the difficulty was, to cross the frith of Moray
unperceived by the English ships that were continually cruizing there:
if the design was suspected, it could not succeed. Two or three
North-country gentlemen, that were employed in this affair, had
conducted it with great secrecy and expedition. All was ready at
Findhorn when the orders came from Inverness to make the attempt, and
the enemy had no suspicion. Moir of Stoneywood set out with this little
fleet in the beginning of the night, got safe across the frith of Moray,
and arrived in the morning at Tain, where the Duke of Perth, whom the
Prince had sent to command this expedition, was ready. The men were
embarked with great despatch, and by means of a thick fog, which
happened very opportunely, got over to Sutherland without being
perceived. The Duke of Perth marched directly to the enemies' quarters,
and, after some disappointments, owing to his being the dupe of his good
nature and politeness, succeeded in dispersing Lord Loudon's army: and
this era, in the opinion of Mr. Maxwell, is the finest part of the
Prince's expedition." Henceforth, all was dismay and disaster.

The affairs of Charles Edward had now begun visibly to decline, for
money, the sinews of the war, was not to be had; and the military chest,
plundered, as it has been stated, by villains who robbed the Prince by
false musters, was exhausted. The hopes of the Chevalier were in the
lowest state, when the intelligence reached Inverness that the Duke of
Cumberland was advancing from Aberdeen to attack his forces. Upon
receiving these tidings, the Prince sent messengers far and wide to call
in his scattered troops, expecting that he should be strong enough to
venture a battle.

The Duke of Perth, who at that time commanded all the troops that were
to the eastward of Inverness, was planted near the river Spey. When the
enemy approached, he retired to Elgin. On the same day, the twelfth of
April 1746, the Duke of Cumberland passed the Spey, and encamped within
three or four miles of Elgin.

This retreat of the Duke of Perth has been severely condemned. It
appears, however, that he, and Lord John Drummond who was with him,
could not muster two thousand five hundred men. The river, which was
very low, was fordable in many places; so much so, that the enemy might
march a battalion in front. The Duke had no artillery, whilst the enemy
had a very good train. There was no possibility of sending
reinforcements from Inverness; above all, says Mr. Maxwell, "nothing was
to be risked that might dishearten the common soldiers on the eve of a
general and decisive action."

But the same candid and experienced soldier acknowledges that the Duke
of Perth remained too long at Nairn, whither he retired, and where the
Duke of Cumberland advanced within a mile of the town, and followed the
retiring army of Perth for a mile or two, though to no purpose, the
foot-soldiers being protected by Fitzjames's Horse. The delay at Nairn
has, it is true, been excused, on the grounds of a command from Prince
Charles to the Duke of Perth and his brother not to retire too hastily
before Cumberland, but to keep as near to him as was consistent with
their safety. This message "put them on their mettle, and well-nigh
occasioned their destruction." The Duke of Perth continued to retreat,
until he halted somewhat short of Culloden, where the Prince arrived
that evening, and took up his quarters at Culloden House.[256]

The following day was the fifteenth of April, the anniversary of that on
which the Duke of Cumberland, the disgrace of his family, the
hard-hearted conqueror of a brave and humane foe, first saw the light.
It was expected that he would choose his birth-day for the combat, but
the fatal engagement of Culloden was deferred until the following
morning.

The battle of Culloden was prefaced by a general sentiment of despair
among those who shared its perils.

"This," says Mr. Maxwell,[257] referring to the morning of the
engagement, "was the first time the Prince, ever thought his affairs
desperate. He saw his little army much reduced, and half-dead with
hunger and fatigue, and found himself under a necessity of fighting in
that miserable condition, for he would not think of a retreat; which he
had never yielded to but with the greatest reluctance, and which, on
this occasion, he imagined would disperse the few men he had, and put an
inglorious end to his expedition. He resolved to wait for the enemy, be
the event what it would; and he did not wait long, for he had been but a
few hours at Culloden, when his scouts brought him word that the enemy
was within two miles, advancing towards the moor, where the Prince had
drawn up his army the day before. The men were scattered among the woods
of Culloden, the greatest part fast asleep. As soon as the alarm was
given, the officers ran about on all sides to rouse them, if I may use
the expression, among the bushes; and some went to Inverness, to bring
back such of the men as hunger had driven there. Notwithstanding the
pains taken by the officers to assemble the men, there were several
hundreds absent from the battle, though within a mile of it: some were
quite exhausted, and not able to crawl; and others asleep in coverts
that had not been beat up. However, in less time than one could have
imagined, the best part of the army was assembled, and formed on the
moor, where it had been drawn up the day before. Every corps knew its
post, and went straight without waiting for fresh orders; the order of
battle was as follows: the army was drawn up in two lines; the first was
composed of the Atholl brigade, which had the right; the Camerons,
Stuarts of Appin, Frazers, Macintoshes, Farquharsons, Chisholms, Perths,
Roy Stuart's regiment, and the Macdonalds, who had the left."

The Highlanders, though faint with fatigue and want of sleep, forgot all
their hardships at the approach of an enemy; and, as a shout was sent up
from the Duke of Cumberland's army, they returned it with the spirit of
a valiant and undaunted people.

The order of battle was as follows: the right wing was commanded by Lord
George Murray, and the left by the Duke of Perth; the centre of the
first line by Lord John Drummond, and the centre of the second by
Brigadier Stapleton. There were five cannon on the right, and four on
the left of the army.[258]

The Duke of Perth had therefore, from his important command, the
privilege of spending the short period of existence, which, as the event
proved, Providence allotted to him, in the service of a Prince whom he
loved; whilst he had the good fortune to escape that responsibility
which fell to the lot of his rival, Lord George Murray. The influence
which that nobleman had acquired over the council of war had enabled him
far to eclipse the Duke of Perth in importance; but it was the fate of
Lord George Murray to pay a heavy penalty for that distinction.

But not only did the amiable and high-minded Duke of Perth calmly
surrender to one, who was esteemed a better leader than himself, the
post of honour; but he endeavoured to reconcile to the indignity put
upon them the fierce spirit of the Macdonalds, who were obliged to cede
their accustomed place on the right to the Atholl men. "If," said the
Duke, "you fight with your usual bravery, you will make the left wing a
right wing; in which case I shall ever afterwards assume the honourable
surname of Macdonald."[259] The Duke's standard was borne, on this
occasion, by the Laird of Comrie, whose descendant still shows the
claymore which his ancestors brandished; whilst the Duke exclaimed
aloud, "Claymore!"[260] Happy would it have been for Charles, had a
similar spirit purified the motives of all those on whom he was fated to
depend!

The battle was soon ended! Half-an-hour of slaughter and despair
terminated the final struggle of the Stuarts for the throne of Britain!
During that fearful though brief[261] space, one thousand of the
Jacobites were killed; no quarter being given on either side. Exhausted
by fatigue and want of food, the brave Highlanders fell thick as autumn
leaves upon the blood-stained moor, near Culloden House. About two
hundred only on the King's side perished in the encounter. During the
whole battle, taking into account the previous cannonading, the
Jacobites lost, as the prisoners afterwards stated, four thousand men.
But it was not until after the fury of the fight ceased, that the true
horrors of war really began. These may be said to consist, not in the
ardour of a strife in which the passions, madly engaged, have no check,
nor stay; but in the cold, vindictive, brutal, and remorseless
after-deeds, which stamp for ever the miseries of a conflict upon the
broken hearts of the survivors.

"Exceeding few," says Mr. Maxwell, "were made prisoners in the field of
battle, which was such a scene of horror and inhumanity as is rarely to
be met with among civilized nations. Every circumstance concurs to
heighten the enormity of the cruelties exercised on this occasion; the
shortness of the action, the cheapness of the victory, and, above all,
the moderation the Prince had shown during his prosperity,--the
leniency, and even tenderness, with which he had always treated his
enemies. But that which was done on the field of Culloden was but a
prelude to a long series of massacres committed in cold blood, which I
shall have occasion to mention afterwards."[262]

The Chevalier, leaving that part of the field upon which bodies in
layers of three or four deep were lying, rode along the moor in the
direction of Fort Augustus, where he passed the river of Nairn. He
halted, and held a conference with Sir Thomas Sheridan, Sullivan, and
Hay; and, having taken his resolution, he sent young Sullivan to the
gentlemen who had followed him, and who were now pretty numerous.
Sheridan at first pretended to conduct them to the place where the
Prince was to re-assemble his army; but, having ridden half a mile
towards Ruthven, he there stopped, and dismissed them all in the
Prince's name, telling them it was the Prince's "pleasure that they
should shift for themselves."

This abrupt and impolitic, not to say ungracious and unsoldier-like
proceeding, has been justified by the necessity of the moment. There
were no magazines in the Highlands, in which an unusual scarcity
prevailed. The Lowlanders, more especially, must have starved in a
country that had not the means of supporting its own inhabitants, and of
which they knew neither the roads nor the language. It is, however, but
too probable, that various suspicions, which were afterwards dispelled,
of the fidelity of the Scots, induced Charles to throw himself into the
hands of his Irish attendants at this critical juncture.[263]

The Duke of Perth, with his brother Lord John Drummond, and Lord George
Murray, with the Atholl men, and almost all the Low-country men who had
been in the Jacobite army, retired to Ruthven, where they remained a
short time with two or three thousand men, but without a day's
subsistence. The leaders of this band finding it impossible to keep the
men together, and receiving no orders from the Prince, came to a
resolution of separating. They took a melancholy farewell of each other,
brothers and companions in arms, and many of them united by ties of
relationship. The chieftains dispersed to seek places of shelter, to
escape the pursuit of Cumberland's "bloodhounds:" the men went to their
homes.

Such is the statement of Maxwell of Kirkconnel, relative to the Duke of
Perth: according to another account, the course which the Duke pursued
was the following:--

He is said to have been wounded in the back and hands in the battle, and
to have fled with great precipitancy from the field of battle. He
obtained, it is supposed, that shelter which, even under the most
dangerous and disastrous circumstances, was rarely refused to the poor
Jacobites. The exact spot of his retreat has never been ascertained; yet
persons living have been heard to say, that in the houses of their
grandfathers or ancestors, the Duke of Perth took refuge, until the
vigilance of pursuit had abated. The obscurity into which this and other
subjects connected with 1745 have fallen, may be accounted for by the
apathy which, at the beginning of the present century existed concerning
all subjects connected with the ill-starred enterprise of the Stuarts;
and the loss of much interesting information, which the curiosity of
modern times would endeavour in vain to resuscitate, has been the
result.

Tradition, however, often a sure guide, and seldom, at all events,
wholly erroneous, has preserved some trace of the unfortunate wanderer's
adventures after all was at an end. As it might be expected, and as
common report in the neighbourhood of Drummond Castle states, the Duke
returned to the protection of his own people. To them, and to his
stately home, he was fondly attached, notwithstanding his foreign
education. On first going from Perth to join the insurrection, as he
lost sight of his Castle, he turned round, and as if anticipating all
the consequences of that step, exclaimed, 'O! my bonny Drummond Castle,
and my bonny lands!'

The personal appearance of the Duke was well known over all the country,
for he was universally beloved, and was in the practice of riding at the
head of his tenantry and friends, called in that neighbourhood 'his
guards,' to Michaelmas Market at Crieff, the greatest fair in those
parts; where thousands assembled to buy and sell cattle and horses. He
was therefore afterwards easily recognised, although in disguise.

"Sometime after the battle of Culloden," as the same authority
relates,[264] "the Duke returned to Drummond Castle, where his mother
usually resided; and lived there very privately, skulking about the
woods and in disguise; he was repeatedly seen in a female dress,
barefooted, and bare-headed. Once a party came to search the castle
unexpectedly; he instantly got into a wall press or closet, or recess of
some sort, where a woman shut him in, and standing before it, remained
motionless till they left that room, to carry on the search, when he got
out at a window and gained the retreats in the woods. After he had
withdrawn from Scotland, and settled in the north of England, he
occasionally visited Strathearn."

In one of these visits he called, disguised as an old travelling
soldier, at Drummond Castle, and desired the housekeeper to show him the
rooms of the mansion. She was humming the song of "the Duke of Perth's
Lament," and having learnt the name of the song he desired her to sing
it no more. When he got into his own apartment he cried out, "This is
the Duke's own room;" when, lifting his arm to lay hold of one of the
pictures, she observed he was in tears, and perceived better dress under
his disguise, which convinced her he was the Duke himself.[265]

For some time the Duke continued these wanderings, stopping now and then
to gaze upon his Castle, the sight of which affected him to tears. "It
was now," says the writer of the case of Thomas Drummond, "that for
obvious reasons, to elude discovery, the report of his death on
shipboard or otherwise, would be propagated by his friends and
encouraged by himself." It is stated upon the same evidence, that
instead of sailing to France, as it has been generally believed, the
Duke fled to England; that he was conveyed on board a ship and landed at
South Shields, a few miles only distant from Biddick, a small
sequestered village, chiefly inhabited at that time by banditti, who set
all authority at defiance. Biddick is situated near the river Wear, a
few miles from Sunderland; it was, at that time, both from situation and
from the character of its inhabitants, a likely place for one flying
from the power of the law to find a shelter; it was, indeed, a common
retreat for the unfortunate and the criminal. That the Duke of Perth
actually took refuge there for some time, is an assertion which has
gained credence from the following reasons:--

In the first place: "In the History, Directory, and Gazette of the
counties of Northumberland and Durham, and the town and counties of
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, by William Parson and William White, two volumes,
1827-28, the following passage occurs relating to Biddick, in the parish
of Houghton-le-Spring:--

"It was here that the unfortunate James Drummond, commonly called Duke
of Perth, took sanctuary after the rebellion of 1745-6, under the
protection of Nicholas Lambton, Esq., of South Biddick, where he died,
and was buried at Pain-Shaw."

In the case of Thomas Drummond, (on whom I shall hereafter make some
comments,) letters stated to be from Lord John Drummond are referred
to, and quoted in part. These are said to have been addressed by Lord
John Drummond from Boulogne, to the Duke at Houghton-le-Spring. The
passage quoted runs thus: "I think you had better come to France, and
you would be out of danger; as I find you are living in obscurity at
Houghton-le-Spring. I doubt that it is a dangerous place; you say it is
reported that you died on your passage. I hope and trust you will still
live in obscurity." These expressions, which it must be owned have very
much the air of being coined for the purpose, would certainly, were the
supposed letters authenticated, establish the fact of the Duke's retreat
to Houghton-le-Spring.

Upon the doubtful nature of the intelligence, which was alone gleaned by
the friends and relatives of the Duke of Perth, a superstructure of
romance, as it certainly appears to be, was reared. The Duke was never,
as it was believed, married; and in 1784 the estates were restored to
his kinsman, the Honourable John Drummond, who was created Baron Perth,
and who died in 1800, leaving the estates, with the honour of
chieftainship, to his daughter Clementina Sarah, now Lady Willoughby
D'Eresby.

In 1831, a claimant to the honours and estates appeared in Thomas
Drummond, who declared himself to be the grandson of James Duke of
Perth; according to his account, the Duke of Perth on reaching Biddick,
took up his abode with a man named John Armstrong, a collier or pitman.
The occupation of this man was, it was stated, an inducement for this
choice on the part of the Duke, as in case of pursuit, the abyss at a
coal-pit might afford a secure retreat; since no one would dare to
enter a coal-pit without the permission of the owners.

The Duke, it is stated in the case of Thomas Drummond, commenced soon
after his arrival at Biddick, the employment of a shoemaker, in order to
lull suspicion; he lost money by his endeavours, and soon relinquished
his new trade. He is said to have become, in the course of time, much
attached to the daughter of his host, John Armstrong, and to have
married her at the parish church of Houghton-le-Spring, in 1749. He
resided with his wife's family until his first child was born, when he
removed to the boat-house, a dwelling with the use and privilege of a
ferry-boat attached to it, and belonging to Nicholas Lambton, Esq. of
Biddick; who, knowing the rank and misfortunes of the Duke, bestowed it
on him from compassion. Here he lived, and with the aid of a small
huckster's shop on the premises, supported a family, which in process of
time, amounted to six or seven children; two of whom, Mrs. Atkinson and
Mrs. Peters, aged women, but still in full possession of their
intellect, have given their testimony to the identity of this shoemaker
and huckster to the Duke of Perth.[266]

The papers, letters, documents and writings, a favourite diamond ring,
and a ducal patent of nobility, were, however, "all lost in the great
flood of the river Wear in 1771;" and the Duke is said to have deeply
lamented this misfortune. It is not, however, very likely that he would
have carried his ducal patent with him in his flight; and had he
afterwards sent for it from Drummond Castle, some of his family must
have been apprised of his existence.

It is stated, however, but only on hearsay, that thirteen years after
the year 1745, the Duke visited his forfeited Castle of Drummond,
disguised as an old beggar, and dressed up in a light coloured wig. This
rumour rests chiefly upon the evidence of the Rev. Dr. Malcolm, LLD.,
who, in 1808, published a Genealogical Memoir of the ancient and noble
House of Drummond; and who declared, on being applied to by the family
of Thomas Drummond, that he had been told by Mrs. Sommers, the
daughter-in-law of Patrick Drummond, Esq., of Drummondernock, the
intimate friend of the Duke of Perth, that the Duke survived the events
of the battle of Culloden a long time, and years afterwards, visited his
estates, and was recognised by many of his "trusty tenants."[267] A
similar report was, at the same time, very prevalent at Strathearn; and
it has been positively affirmed, that a visit was received by Mr. Græme,
at Garnock, from the Duke of Perth, long after he was believed to be
dead. At this time, it is indeed wholly impossible to verify, or even
satisfactorily to refute such statements; but the existence of a report
in Scotland, that the Duke did not perish at sea, may be received as an
undoubted fact.[268] In 1831, when the case of Thomas Drummond was first
agitated, Mrs. Atkinson and Mrs. Elizabeth Peters, the supposed
daughters of James Duke of Perth, were both alive, and on their
evidence much of the stability of the case depended. The claimant,
Thomas Drummond, who is stated to have been the eldest son of James, son
of James Duke of Perth, was born in 1792, and was living in 1831 at
Houghton-le-Spring, in the occupation of a pitman. Much doubt is thrown
upon the whole of the case, which was not followed up, by the length of
time which elapsed before any claim was made on the part of this
supposed descendant of the Duke of Perth. The act for the restoration of
the forfeited estates was not passed, indeed, until two years after the
death (as it is stated) of the Duke of Perth, that is, in 1784; yet one
would suppose that he would have carefully instructed his son in the
proper manner to assert his rights in case of such an event. That son
lived to a mature age, married and died, yet made no effort to recover
what were said to be his just rights.[269]

Such is the statement of those who seek to establish the belief that the
Duke of Perth lived to a good old age, married, had children, and left
heirs to his title and estates. On the other hand, it is certain that
it was generally considered certain, at the time of the insurrection,
that the Duke died on his voyage to France; and it was even alluded to
by one of the counsel at the trials of Lord Kilmarnock and Lord
Balmerino in August 1746, when the name of the Duke of Perth being
mentioned, "who," said the Speaker, "I see by the papers, is dead." But
it _is_ certainly _remarkable_, that neither Maxwell of Kirkconnel, nor
Lord Elcho, the one in his narrative which has been printed, the other
in his manuscript memoir, mention the death of the Duke of Perth on the
voyage, which, as they both state, they shared with him. So important
and interesting a circumstance would not, one may suppose, have occurred
without their alluding to it. "All the gentlemen," Lord Elcho relates,
"who crossed to Nantes, proceeded to Paris after their
disembarkation;"[270] but he enters into no further particulars of their
destination. His silence, and that of Maxwell of Kirkconnel, regarding
the Duke of Perth's death, seems, if it really took place, to have been
inexplicable.

All doubt, but that the story of the unfortunate Duke's death was really
true, appears however to be set at rest by the epitaph which some
friendly or kindred hand has inscribed on a tomb in the chapel of the
English Nuns at Antwerp, commemorating the virtues and the fate of the
Duke, and of his brother Lord John Drummond. This monumental tribute
would hardly have been inscribed without some degree of certainty that
the remains of the Duke were indeed interred there.

                                 M. S.[271]

          Fratrum Illustriss, Jac. et Joan. Ducum de Perth,
        Antiquiss. Nobiliss. Familiæ de Drummond apud Scotos,
                              Principum.
               Jacobus, ad studia humaniora proclivior,
                          Literis excultus,
             Artium bonarum et liberalium fautor eximius;
                        In commune consulens,
                   Semper in otio civis dignissimus.
          Mirâ morum suavitate, et animi fortitudine ornatus,
           Intaminatâ fide splendebat humani generis amicus.
                   In pace clarus, in bello clarior;
                  Appulso enim Carolo P. in Scotiam,
             Gladio in causâ gentis Stuartorum rearrepto,
                      Veterorum curâ posthabitâ,
                  Gloriæ et virtuti unice prospiciens,
                 Alacri vultu labores belli spectabat;
                    Pericula omnia minima ducebat:
       In prælio strenuus, in victoriâ clemens, heros egregius.
                   Copiis Caroli tandem dissipatis,
                  Patriâ, amicis, re domi amplissimâ,
       Cunctis præter mentem recti consciam, fortiter desertis,
               In Galliam tendens, solum natale fugit.
     Verum assiduis laboribus et patriæ malis gravibus oppressus,
                            In mari magno,
           Die natale revertente, ob. 13 Maii, 1746; æt. 33.
        Et reliquiæ, ventis adversis, terrâ sacratâ interclusæ,
                          In undis sepultæ.
               Joannes, ingenio felici martiali imbutus,
          A primâ adolescentiâ, militiæ artibus operam dedit.
                 Fortis, intrepidus, propositi tenax,
Mansuetudine generosâ, et facilitate morum, militis asperitate lenitâ.
            Legioni Scoticæ regali, ab ipsomet conscriptæ,
               A Rege Christianiss. Lud. XV. præpositus.
                 Flagrante bello civili in Britanniâ,
                        Auxilis Gallorum duxit;
              Et post conflictum infaustum Cullodinensem,
                  In eadem navi cum fratre profugus.
       In Flandriâ, sub Imperatore Com. de Saxe, multùm meruit:
                      Subjectis semper præsidium,
       Belli calamitatum (agnoscite Britanni!) insigne levamen.
            Ad summos Martis dignitates gradatim assurgens,
                     Gloriæ nobilis metæ appetens,
              In medio cursu, improvisa lethi vi raptus,
                    28 Septemb. A.D. 1747, Æt. 33.
               In Angl. monach. Sacello Antwerpiæ jacet.

The preceding narrative is given to the reader without any further
comment, except upon the general improbability of the story. It might
not appear impossible that the Duke may have taken refuge in the then
wild county of Durham for a time, but that two credible historians,
Maxwell of Kirkconnel, and Lord Elcho, assert positively that he sailed
for Nantes in a vessel which went by the north-west coast of Ireland;
Lord Elcho and Maxwell being themselves on board, seems decisive of the
entire failure of the case before quoted. It seems also wholly
incredible, that the Duke of Perth, whose rank was still acknowledged in
France, and whose early education in that country must have familiarised
him with its habits, should have remained contentedly during the whole
of his life, associating with persons of the lowest grade, in an obscure
village in Durham.

At the time of the Duke of Perth's death in 1747, one brother, Lord John
Drummond, was living. This brave man, whose virtues and whose fate are
recorded in the epitaph, survived his amiable and accomplished brother
only one year, and died suddenly of a fever, after serving under Marshal
Saxe at the siege of Bergen-op-Zoom. His services in the insurrection of
1745 were considerable; like his brother, he escaped to France after the
contest was concluded. He died unmarried; and two sisters, the Lady
Mary, and the Lady Henrietta Drummond, died also unmarried. The mother
of James Duke of Perth long survived him, living until 1773. It is said
in the case of Thomas Drummond, that she never forgave her son for what
she considered his lukewarmness in the cause of the Stuarts, and refused
to have any intercourse with him after the failure of the rebellion; but
those who thus write, must have formed a very erroneous conception of
the Duke's conduct: if he might not escape such a charge, who could
deserve the praise of zeal, sincerity, and disinterestedness?

The duchess was one of the most strenuous supporters of the Stuarts, and
suffered for her loyalty to them by an imprisonment in Edinburgh Castle.
She was committed to prison on the eleventh of February, 1746, and
liberated on bail on the seventeenth.

On the forfeiture of the Drummond estates she retired to Stobhall, where
she remained until her death, at the advanced age of ninety. She was
considered a woman of great spirit, energy, and ability, and is supposed
to have influenced her son in his political opinions and actions.

Some idea may be formed of the painful circumstances which follow the
forfeiture of estates from the following passage, extracted from the
introduction to the letters of James Earl of Perth, Chancellor of
Scotland in the time of James the Second, and lately printed for the
Camden Society.[272]

"When a considerable portion of the Drummond estates were restored to
the heir (no poor boon, though dilapidated, lopped, and impoverished,)
he found upon them four settlements of cottages, in which the soldiery
had been located after the battle of Culloden, to keep down the
_rebels_. There were thirty near Drummond Castle, another division at
Cullander, a third at Balibeg, and a fourth at Stobhall. Demolition
might satisfy the abhorrence of the latter three, but what could
reconcile him to the outrage under his very eyes, as he looked from his
chamber or castle terrace? It was intolerable, and that every trace
might be obliterated, he caused an embankment to be made, and carried a
lake-like sheet of water over the very chimney tops of the military
dwellings. There is now the beautiful lake, gleaming with fish, and
haunted by the wild birds of the Highlands; and we believe the deepest
diver of them all, could not observe one stone upon another of the
cabins which held the ruthless military oppressors left by the Duke of
Cumberland a century ago."

The usual accounts of the Duke's movements after the battle of Culloden,
state, however, that about a month subsequent to that event, when the
fugitive Charles Stuart, in the commencement of his wanderings, landed
by accident upon the little isle of Errifort, on the east side of Lewis,
he saw, from the summit of a hill which he had climbed, two frigates
sailing northwards. The Chevalier in vain endeavoured to persuade the
boatmen who had brought him from Lewis, to go out and reconnoitre these
ships. His companions judged these vessels to be English; the Prince
alone guessed them to be French. He was right. They were two frigates
from Nantes, which had been sent with money, arms, and ammunition to
succour Charles, and were now returning to France. On board one of them
was the Duke of Perth, Lord Elcho, Lord John Drummond, old Lochiel, Sir
Thomas Sheridan and his nephew Mr. Hay, Maxwell of Kirkconnel, and Mr.
Lockhart of Carnwath, and several Low-country gentlemen, who had been
wandering about in these remote parts when the frigates were setting out
on their return,[273] and finding that the Prince was gone, and that
nothing was to be done for his service, had determined to escape. On the
tenth of June these frigates reached Nantes: Lord Elcho affirms that
"all arrived safe at Nantes;" one only is said never to have gained that
shore. Worn out by fatigues too severe, and, perhaps, the progress of
disease being aided by sorrow, the Duke of Perth is generally stated to
have died on ship-board on his passage. His malady is understood to have
been consumption.

Another celebrated member of this distinguished family, Lord
Strathallan, was not spared to witness the total ruin of all his hopes.
He fell at the battle of Culloden. The impression among his descendants
is, that, seeing the defeat certain, he rushed into the thick of the
battle, determined to perish. In 1746 Lord Strathallan's name was
included in the Bill of Attainder then passed; but, in 1824, one of the
most graceful acts of George the Fourth, whose sentiments of compassion
for the Stuarts and their adherents do credit to his memory, was the
restoration of the present Viscount Strathallan to the peerage by the
title of the sixth Viscount.

It is with regret that we take leave, amid the discordant scenes of an
historical narrative, of one whose high purposes and blameless career
are the best tribute to virtue, the noblest ornament of the party which
he espoused. Modest, yet courageous; moderate, though in the ardour of
youth; devout, without bigotry; and capable of every self-sacrifice for
the good of others, on the memory of the young Duke of Perth not a
shadow rests to attract the attention of the harsh to defects of
intention, unjustly attributed to the leader of the Jacobite
insurrection.

FOOTNOTES:

[207] Genealogy of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Drummond. By a
Freind to Vertue and the Family.--Unpublished.

[208] The office of Thane or Seneschal was, to be the _Giusticiare_ or
guardian of that country; to lead the men up to the war, according to
the roll or list made out; and to be collector for the Athbane of the
kingdom for the King's rents in that district. The Athbane was the
highest officer in the kingdom--Chief Minister, Treasurer, Steward. The
Thanes were next to the Athbanes, and were the first that King Malcolm
advanced to the new title of Earls.--See Lord Strathallan's Genealogy of
the House of Drummond.

[209] Genealogy of the House of Drummond, 139.

[210] Amongst his other literary efforts, Drummond of Hawthornden left a
MS "Historie of the Family of Perth."

[211] Lady Willoughby D'Eresby is heiress to the estate of Perth, and
representative in the female line of the Earldom of Perth in Scotland
and of the Dukedom in France. At the same time that the Dukedom of Perth
was created, the last Earl's brother was created Duke de Melfort. His
descendants are, therefore, the male representatives of the Earldom of
Perth, and George Drummond Perth de Melfort in France is now claiming
the title. (Letter from Viscount Strathallan, to whose courtesy I am
indebted for this information.)

[212] "Reducing."--Editor

[213] Memoirs of Sir Ewen Cameron of Lochiell.

[214] The title of Duke was afterwards assumed by the young chief of the
House of Drummond, and was given to him by the Jacobites generally; but,
in consequence of his father's attainder, and the forfeiture of his
title, he was, in the eye of the law, simply a commoner. Hence he is
described by Home as "James Drummond, commonly called Duke of Perth, his
father having been so created by James the Second at St. Germains." The
right of the Duke to this dignity was at that time, and it still is,
recognised in France. Without entering into the merits of the question
of right, and to prevent confusion, it is therefore expedient to
designate this Jacobite nobleman by the name usually assigned to him in
his own time.

[215] Forbes's Jacobite Memoirs, p. 296.

[216] Wood's Peerage.

[217] Curious Collection of Scottish Songs; Aberdeen, 1821.

[218] Henderson, History of the Rebellion of '45, p. 19. 1753

[219] Memoirs of Lochiell, p. 30.

[220] History of the Rebellion, p. 35.

[221] Lord Elcho's Narrative, MS.

[222] See the History of the Rebellion, by Rae; and the Cochrane
Correspondence.

[223] Maculloch's Highlands.

[224] Forbes's Jacobite Memoirs, p. 17.

[225] Henderson, p. 30.

[226] Henderson, p. 30.

[227] Chambers' History of the Rebellion; Edit. for the People; p. 19.

[228] "History of the Present Rebellion in Scotland, 1745. From the
relation of Mr. James Macpherson, who was first in the service of the
Rebels."

In contradiction to this statement, to which Macpherson adds, that the
Chevalier attended Mass daily, the testimony of one of the daily papers
(the Caledonian Mercury) may be given, as inserted by Mr. Chambers in
his very interesting History of the Rebellion of 1745. The Prince
visited an Episcopal chapel; the name of the clergyman, Armstrong, and
the text, Isaiah xiv. 12, are specified. It was the first Protestant
place of worship that the Prince had ever attended. Hist. of the
Rebellion, p. 21.

[229] History of the Present Rebellion, p. 19.--It is remarkable that
two Histories of the two rebellions were composed by men who had changed
sides. That of 1715 by Patten, who was rewarded for his disclosures, as
King's evidence, by a pension. What reward was bestowed on Mr. James
Macpherson does not yet appear.

[230] History of the Present Rebellion, p. 26.

[231] Notes and Observations taken from MSS. in the possession of A.
Macdonald, Esq., Register Office, Edinburgh.

[232] Lord Elcho's MS.

[233] In Exeter House, Derby, there is a portrait of Prince Charles,
painted by Wright of Derby, in which the eyes are hazel. That in the
Earl of Newburgh's possession, at Hassop, has blue eyes.

[234] Henderson, p. 51. Home, p. 100.

[235] Home, 101. Alexander Henderson.

[236] Lord Elcho's Narrative, MS.

[237] Henderson, p. 84.

[238] Henderson, p. 88.

[239] Henderson differs in this account from Home. "Charles," says the
latter, "remained on the field of battle till mid-day, giving orders for
the relief of the wounded of both armies, for the disposal of his
prisoners, and preserving, both from temper and from judgment, every
appearance of moderation and humanity," p. 122.

[240] Lord Elcho's MS.

[241] Maxwell of Kirkconnel's Narrative, p. 55.

[242] Maxwell of Kirkconnel's Narrative, p. 57.

[243] Maxwell's Narrative, p. 59.

[244] Maxwell's Narrative, p. 46.

[245] Maxwell of Kirkconnel's Narrative, p. 48.

[246] Maxwell, p. 65.

[247] History of the Rebellion of 1745 and 1746. Extracted from the
Scots' Magazine, p. 99.

[248] Maxwell's Narrative, p. 74.

[249] Maxwell, p. 76.

[250] Jacobite Memoirs.

[251] Lord Mahon is decidedly of this opinion. See Vol. iv. Hist. of
England, respecting the Jacobites.

[252] Lord Elcho's MS.

[253] Maxwell, p. 80.

[254] Maxwell, p. 112.

[255] P. 129.

[256] Maxwell, p. 140.

[257] P. 147.

[258] Chambers.

[259] Lord Elcho's Narrative.

[260] The estate of Comrie is now in the possession of Sir David Dundas,
and the descendant of its former owner, and the Duke's standard-bearer
is reduced to be the landlord of the village inn. See Letters of James
Duke of Perth, Chancellor of Scotland. Printed for the Camden Society,
and edited by Wm. Jerdan, Esq.

[261] The battle, according to the newspapers of the day, lasted about
half an hour.

[262] Maxwell, p. 154.

[263] See Lord Elcho's MS. Narrative; which, however, since it is
written in a bitter spirit, and varies in many details and in most
opinions from Maxwell's, I am not disposed wholly to trust.

[264] The traditionary accounts have been collected, in the case of
Thos. Drummond, a claimant of the honours and estates of the Earldom of
Perth. Newcastle upon Tyne, 1831. I do not vouch for the truth of these
anecdotes, but they have an air of probability.

[265] Case of Thomas Drummond, p. 18.

[266] See case of Thomas Drummond, p. 26.

[267] Case, p. 34. Dr. Malcolm had in his book made a different
statement; but had contemplated re-publishing his work, with
corrections, among which the existence (after 1747) of James Drummond,
was to be asserted.

[268] For this information, and also for a copy of the case of Thomas
Drummond, I am indebted to the kindness of W. E. Aytoun, Esq.

[269] In 1816, another appeal, and a fresh claim to the Drummond
estates, and to the Earldom of Perth, were brought forward by the
descendant of John Drummond, the great-uncle of James, Duke of Perth.
The said John Drummond was raised to the dignity of the English peerage
in 1685, by James the Second, by the title of Viscount Melfort; in 1686
he was raised to the dignity of Earl of Melfort; and afterwards,
following the monarch to St. Germains, was created Duke of Melfort.

The great-grandson of the Duke of Melfort was a Roman Catholic priest,
who officiated some years back at the chapel in Moorfields; he was
living in 1831 in France, at a very advanced age.

The pamphlet in which, in 1816, he asserted his claim, and which was
laid before the House of Lords, was professedly written "by an
unfortunate nobleman;" with the appeal of Charles Edward (Drummond),
Duke of Melfort, heir male, and chief representative of the House of
Drummond of Perth, submitted to the United Kingdom of Great Britain,
&c., 8vo., London, 1816.

[270] Lord Elcho's MS.

[271] For the copies of these epitaphs I am indebted to Robert Chambers,
Esq. This is that gentleman's account of the inscriptions:--

"The within is a correct copy of the inscription, as entered in Bishop
Forbes's MS., vol. 9, dated on title page, 1761. The entry of
inscriptions is immediately subsequent to a copied letter or memorandum
of May, 1764, and antecedent to one of November, 1765.

      "Fama perennis, lauru porrecta, vetat mori
    Principes immaculatis Proavum honoribus dignos.
      Hoc Elogium,
        D.D.D.
          T.D. L.L.D.

"N.B.--The above is engraven, all in capitals, on the tomb at Antwerp,
with the coat armorial of the family on the top of the inscription."

The following is the English translation of the originals in Latin,
copied from the papers of Bishop Forbes:--

                         Sacred to the Memory
                                 of
            the most illustrious brothers, James and John,
                            Dukes of Perth,
                   Chiefs of the House of Drummond,
             a very ancient and noble family in Scotland.
                               James,
     the more disposed of the two to the study of Belles Lettres,
                        excelled in Literature;
                 was eminent as a favourer of the Fine
                           and Liberal arts.
                    Providing for the common good,
             he was always a most worthy citizen in peace.
            Characterized by the sweetness of his manners,
            and distinguished by the strength of his mind,
      He ever shone with unstained faith as a friend of mankind.
             Great in peace, he was still greater in war,
              For when Prince Charles landed in Scotland,
        He drew his sword in the cause of the House of Stuart,
                      Put all other cares aside,
           And uniformly looking forward to glory and worth,
    He ever gazed with a cheerful countenance on the toils of war:
               He was utterly regardless of all danger,
     Without want of energy in battle, he was merciful in victory,
                   Indeed a man of rare occurrence;
        At length when the forces of Charles were wasted away,
        His native land, his friends, and a very ample estate,
 Were all, when weighed in estimation with a mind conscious of right,
                           Bravely deserted:
             Turning his steps towards France, he fled his
                            Native country.
             Oppressed by the troubles of his lot, and the
                   Heavy misfortunes of his country,
                      He died on the great ocean,
       On the 13th of May, in the thirty-third year of his age;
 And his remains, precluded from consecrated ground by adverse winds,
                        Were given to the deep.

                                 John,
        Imbued with a happy turn of mind for military affairs,
         From early youth applied himself to the military art.
                 Brave, intrepid, and firm in purpose,
He was ennobled by gentleness, and softened the asperity of the soldier
                      by the ease of his manners.
              He was placed over the Royal Scotch Legion,
                         Enlisted by himself,
                      By the most Christian King,
                               Louis XV.
              Whilst the Civil War was raging in Britain
                  He led the French Auxiliary Forces,
             And after the unfortunate battle of Culloden,
            Was a fugitive in the same ship as his brother.
              In Flanders, under the General Count Saxe,
                         He served a long time,
              Ever a defence to those under his command,
 A remarkable comforter (Learn, O Britons!) in the calamities of war;
           Gradually rising to the highest dignities of war,
            And seeking to attain the goal of noble glory,
    He was carried away by sudden death in the midst of his course,
                  28th September, A.D. 1747. Aged 33.

[272] Edited by W. Jerdan, Esq., M.R.S.L., 1845.

[273] Maxwell, p. 166.




FLORA MACDONALD.


The character of this celebrated woman, heroic, yet gentle, was formed
in the privacy of the strictest Highland seclusion. She was born in the
island of South Uist, in 1720: she was the daughter of Macdonald of
Milton. The Clan of her family was that of Macdonald of Clanranald; the
Chief of which is called in Gaelic, Mack-ire-Allein, and in English, the
captain of Clan Ranald. The estate of this Chief, which is held
principally from the Crown, is situated in Moidart and Arisaig on the
continent of Scotland, and in the islands of Uist, Benbecula, and Rum.
His vassals, capable of military service, amounted in 1745 to five
hundred.[274]

The Hebrides were at that time regarded in the more civilized parts of
Europe somewhat in the same light as the Arctic regions are now
considered by the inhabitants of England, and other polished nations:
"When I was at Ferney in 1764," Boswell relates, "I mentioned our design
(of going to the Hebrides) to Voltaire. He looked at me as if I had
talked of going to the North Pole, and said, 'You do not insist on my
accompanying you!' 'No, sir.' 'Then I am very willing you should go.'"
In this remote, and, in the circles of London, almost unknown region,
Flora Macdonald was born and educated.

The death of her father, Macdonald of Milton, when she was only a year
old, made an important change in the destiny of the little Highland
girl. Her mother married again, and became the wife of Macdonald of
Armadale in Skye. Flora was, therefore, removed from the island of South
Uist to an island which was nearer to the means of acquiring information
than her native place.

It was a popular error of the times, more especially among the English
Whigs, to regard the Highlanders of every grade, as an ignorant,
barbarous race. So far as the lowest classes were concerned, this
imputation might be well-founded, though certainly not so well as it has
much longer been in the same classes in England. Previously to the reign
of George the Third many of the peasantry could not read, and many could
not understand what they read in English. There were few books in
Gaelic, and the defect was only partially supplied by the instruction of
bards and seneachies. But, among the middle and higher classes,
education was generally diffused. The excellent grammar-schools in
Inverness, Fortrose, and Dunkeld sent out men well-informed, excellent
classical scholars, and these from among that order which in England is
the most illiterate--the gentlemen-farmers. The Universities gave them
even a greater extent of advantages. When the Hessian troops were
quartered in Atholl, the commanding officers, who were accomplished
gentlemen, found a ready communication in Latin at every inn. Upon the
Colonel of the Hessian cavalry halting at Dunkeld, he was addressed by
the innkeeper in Latin. This class of innkeepers has wholly, unhappily,
disappeared in the Highlands.[275]

But it was in the island of Skye that classical learning was the most
general, and there an extraordinary degree of intelligence and
acquirement prevailed among the landed gentry. "I believe," observes
General Stewart, "it is rather unique for the gentry of a remote corner
to learn Latin, merely to talk to each other; yet so it was in Skye."
The acquisition of this branch of learning was not, indeed, expensive.
Latin was taught for two shillings and sixpence the quarter, and English
and writing for one shilling. Indeed it is scarcely more now. The people
seldom quitted their insular homes, except when on service; and, to the
silence of their wild secluded scenes, the romance of poetry and the
composition of song gave a relief and a charm.

The education of Flora Macdonald received probably little aid from the
classical teacher; but her mind was formed, not among the rude and
uncultured, but among those who appreciated letters; and the influence
of such an advantage in elevating and strengthening the character must
be taken into account in forming a due estimation of her heroic
qualities. Thus situated, Flora passed her life in obscurity, until, at
the age of twenty-four, the events which succeeded the battle of
Culloden brought those energies, which had been nurtured in retirement,
into active exertion. Indeed, until about a year before she engaged in
that enterprise which has rendered her name so celebrated, she had never
quitted the islands of South Uist and Skye; she had, at that time,
passed about nine months in the family of Macdonald of Largoe in
Argyleshire, and this was the only change of scene, or of sphere, which
she had ever witnessed.[276]

Her step-father was an enemy to the cause which, from her earliest
years, her heart espoused. A company of militia had been formed to
assist the British Government by Sir Alexander Macdonald, the chieftain
of one division of the clan, and in this regiment Macdonald of Armadale
held a commission as captain, at the time when the Duke of Cumberland
was "making inquisition for blood" throughout the western Highlands. But
the prepossessions of Flora were unalienably engaged in favour of the
exiled Stuarts; and they were not, perhaps, the less likely to glow from
being necessarily suppressed. Her disposition, notwithstanding all her
subsequent display of courage, was extremely mild; and her manners
corresponded to her temper. Her complexion was fair; and her figure,
though small, well-proportioned. In more advanced life Boswell, who with
Dr. Johnson visited her, characterized her person and deportment as
"genteel." There was nothing unfeminine, either in her form or in her
manners, to detract from the charm of her great natural vivacity, or
give a tone of hardness to her strong good sense, calm judgment, and
power of decision. Her voice was sweet and low; the harsher accents of
the Scottish tongue were not to be detected in her discourse; and she
spoke, as Bishop Forbes relates, "English (or rather Scots) easily, and
not at all through the Erse tone." In all the varied circumstances of
her life, she manifested a perfect modesty and propriety of behaviour,
coupled with that noble simplicity of character which led her to regard
with surprise the tributes which were afterwards paid to her conduct,
and to express her conviction that far too much value was placed upon
what she deemed merely an act of common humanity.

In Skye, the "Isle of Mist" of the poet, she could hear imperfect
intelligence of the wanderings of the Jacobite leaders. She was
connected by kindred with some under whose roof the Prince had taken
refuge.

The first movement which the Prince made after taking leave of Lord
Lovat at Gortuleg, was to repair first to Fort Augustus, and then to
Invergarie near Fort Augustus. Here he took leave of those followers who
had attended him as he quitted the field of Culloden; and retained only
Mr. O'Sullivan, Captain O'Neil, Captain Alan Macdonald, and one Burke, a
servant. It was not until he had remained a whole day at Fort Augustus
that the Prince could be persuaded that all hopes of his troops
rejoining him were at an end. On Friday, the eighteenth of April, he
went to Lochnargaig, where he stayed one night with Dr. Cameron of
Glenkearn; and on the following day he proceeded to Oban, which is
situated on a corner of Clanranald's estate. He was, therefore, under
the protection of a kinsman of Flora Macdonald. He pursued his journey
on the next day to the country of Arisaig, and rested at a small village
called Glenbeisdale, whence he proceeded to Boradale, the place at which
he had first landed in beginning the enterprise which was now
terminated.

It had been the opinion of Clanranald, one of the Prince's most faithful
adherents, that he ought not to leave the mainland, but to take shelter
in different small huts, which should be built for his accommodation;
whilst Clanranald should take a trip to the Isles, and look out for a
vessel to convey the unfortunate wanderer into France. By the influence
of Mr. O'Sullivan this counsel was overruled; and Clanranald, finding
that Charles was determined to sail for Long Island, provided an
eight-oared boat, which belonged to Alexander Macdonald of Boradale;
and, having provided it with rowers and other requisites for the voyage,
the party set sail from Lochnanuagh for the Isle of Uist on the
twenty-fourth of April. They assumed false names: the Prince was called
Mr. Sinclair; Mr. O'Sullivan was old Sinclair, his father; Captain Alan
Macdonald, a relation of Clanranald, became Mr. Graham.[277] Donald
Macleod the pilot, and about six men, rowers, also accompanied the
Prince, but did not change their names; a clergyman of the Church of
Rome attended the party. The design which Charles Edward had formed, was
to reach the Long Island, under which name are comprehended those
Western Islands which run in a straight line from north to south, and
are at a short distance from each other. From some part of the Long
Island Charles hoped to procure a vessel in which he could escape to
France, or at any rate to Orkney, and thence to Norway or Sweden. At
this time a proclamation, offering a reward of thirty thousand pounds
for his apprehension, had been issued by the British Government.

The Prince set sail on the evening of the twenty-sixth of April,
embarking at Boradale, on the very spot where he had landed, with just
sufficient daylight to get clear of Loch Luagh; for, as the coast had
been guarded by English ships ever since his arrival in Scotland, it was
not safe to go beyond the mouth of the Loch in open day. Before the
voyage was commenced, the Prince was warned by his faithful pilot that
there would be a storm that night. "I see it coming!" But Charles
Edward, anxious to leave the main land, where parties were dispersed in
pursuit of him, was determined to trust his fate to the winds. The
party, therefore, entered the boat, the Prince seating himself at the
feet of the pilot. There was also another Macleod in the boat; this was
Murdoch, the son of the pilot, a boy of fifteen years of age. The
character of this youth was of no common order. When he had heard of the
battle of Culloden, he had provided himself with a claymore, a dirk, and
a pistol; and had run off from school to take his chance in the field.
After the defeat he found means to trace out the road which the Prince
had taken, and to follow him step by step; "and this was the way,"
related Donald Macleod, "that I met wi' my poor boy."

Another person who was in the boat, and who afterwards made a
conspicuous figure in that romance of real life, was Ned Bourke, or
Burke. This man had belonged to a most valuable class, the chairmen of
Edinburgh, whose honesty is proverbial; their activity and civility
almost incredible to English notions. Bourke was not, as his name seemed
to imply, an Irishman; but a native of North Uist. He had been a servant
to Mr. Alexander Macleod, one of Charles Edward's aides-de-camp; and
was the man who had led the Prince off the field of battle, and guided
him all the way to Boradale: for Ned Bourke knew Scotland, and indeed a
great portion of England, well, having been servant to several
gentlemen. In this, his most important service, the honest man did not
disgrace his ancient and honourable calling as a chairman. "Excellent
things" were spoken of him to Donald Macleod, who seems to have made
some demur as to his Irish name, and to have objected to taking him on
board.

Thus guided, and thus guarded, Charles Edward might fear the winds and
waves; but treachery was not to be dreaded. Not far had the men rowed
before a violent storm arose; such as even Donald had not, from his own
account, ever been "trysted with before," though he had all his life
been a seafaring man. The Prince was now as impatient to return to the
land as he had been to quit it; "for," he said, "I would rather face
cannons and muskets than be in such a storm as this!" But Donald was
firm in proceeding on the voyage: "Since we are here," he replied, "we
have nothing for it, but, under God, to set out to sea directly." He
refused to steer for the rock, which runs three miles along the side of
the loch; observing, "Is it not as good for us to be drowned in clear
water, as to be dashed to pieces on a rock, and drowned also?"

A solemn silence followed this decisive reply. Every one expected
instant destruction. The night was pitch-dark; and there was no light in
the boat. They dreaded being landed on some part of the island of Skye,
where the militia were in arms to prevent the Prince's escape. But, to
use the words of the pilot, "As God would have it," that danger was not
encountered. By daybreak the party discovered that they were close to
Rushness, in the island of Benbecula, having run according to the
pilot's account, thirty-two leagues in eight hours. During this perilous
voyage the spirits of Charles never sank; he encouraged every one around
him, working himself at the oars: "he was," says Mr. Maxwell, "the only
one that seemed void of concern."

Such were the circumstances under which Charles Edward landed in the
Long Island;--the event which brought him into communication with Flora
Macdonald. She was at that time calmly engaged in the usual duties of
her station; but the spirit so prevalent in the Highlands was not
extinguished in the Western Islands, either by the dread of the English
militia, or by the defeat of the Prince. All the Jacobites of that
period, to adopt the language of President Forbes, "how prudent soever,
became mad; all doubtful people became Jacobites; and all bankrupts
became heroes, and talked of nothing but hereditary right and victory.
And what was more grievous to men of gallantry, and, if you believe me,
more mischievous to the public, all the fine ladies, if you except one
or two, became passionately fond of the young adventurer, and used all
their arts for him in the most intemperate manner."[278] It was not,
however, an idle, romantic fancy, but a fixed sentiment of duty, acting
upon a kindly heart, which originated the enthusiasm of Flora.

Whilst the Prince was traversing the Long Island in poverty and danger,
a desolate wanderer wanting the common necessaries of life, but still
patient and cheerful ever hoping once more to assemble his faithful
Highlanders,--living at one time four days in a desert island, then
putting to sea pursued by ships,--Flora Macdonald had accidentally
quitted her usual residence at Armadale in Skye, for the purpose of
visiting her step-brother at Milton.

During her abode at Milton, Captain O'Neil, who was loitering about the
country for the purpose of gaining intelligence for Charles Edward,
formed an acquaintance with this young lady, and, it is said, paid his
addresses to her. More than two months had now elapsed since Charles
first trusted his hopes to the chance of finding a vessel on the coast
of the Long Island, to take him to France. During that period his
fortunes had assumed a far more threatening aspect than at any previous
time. Friends had proved faithless; Murray of Broughton, whom the Prince
then still regarded as one of the "firmest, honestest men in the world,"
had shown to others his real motives, and the deep selfishness,
cowardice, and rapacity, of his heart. In his utmost need, when the
Prince was in want of food, that wretched man had, in reply to a message
from Charles asking money, answered that he had none; having _only_
sixty louis-d'ors for himself, which were not worth sending. What was
perhaps of more immediate moment was, that, whilst the friends of the
young Chevalier had diminished, the number of his foes around him had
increased. Fifteen ships of war were to be seen near the coasts of the
Long Island, thus most effectually destroying all hopes of a French
vessel being able to cruize near the shore. To complete his misfortunes,
the Duke of Cumberland, upon learning that his unfortunate kinsman had
sheltered himself in the Western Islands, had sent Captain Caroline
Scott, an officer as infamous as Hawley and Lockhart, to scour the Long
Island.

Such were the circumstances of Charles towards the latter end of June
1746. He was then coursing along the shores of the Long Island, until,
pursued by French ships, he was obliged to land, happily for himself, on
the island of Benbecula, between the North and South Uist. Providence
seemed to have conducted him to that wild and bleak shore. Scarcely had
he reached it, than a storm arose, and drove his pursuers off the coast.
Here the Prince and his starving companions were overjoyed to find a
number of crabs, or, as the Scottish pilot termed them, _partans_; a
boon to the famished wanderers. From a hut, about two miles from the
shore, Charles removed, first to the house of Lady Clanranald; and
afterwards, by the advice of Clanranald, he went to South Uist, and took
up his abode near the hill of Coradale in the centre of the island, that
being thought the most secure retreat. Here Charles remained until again
driven from this hut by the approach of Captain Scott, with a detachment
of five hundred men, who advanced close to the place where he was
concealed. The unfortunate Prince then determined upon a last and
painful effort to save those who had braved hitherto the severities of
their lot for his sake. He parted with all his followers except O'Neil.
Donald Macleod shed tears on bidding him farewell. Macleod was taken
prisoner a few days afterwards in Benbecula, by Lieutenant Allan
Macdonald, of Knock, in Slate, in the island of Skye. He was put on
board the Furnace,[279] and brought down to the cabin before General
Campbell, who examined him minutely. The General asked him "if he had
been along with the Pretender?" "Yes," said Donald, "I was along with
that young gentleman, and I winna deny it." "Do you know," said the
General, "what money was upon the gentleman's head? no less a sum than
four thousand pounds sterling, which would have made you and your family
happy for ever." "What then," said Donald, "what could I have gotten by
it? I could not have enjoyed it for two days, conscience would have
gotten the better of me; and although I could have got England and
Scotland for my Prince, I would not have allowed a hair of his head to
be hurt."[280]

After this separation, the Prince, accompanied by O'Neil, again returned
to traverse the mountainous districts of South Uist. He walked in the
direction of Benbecula, and about midnight entered a shealing, or hut,
which belonged to Angus Macdonald, the brother of his future deliverer.
The interview which shortly took place between them, was not, as it may
readily be conceived, unpremeditated.[281] Repeatedly, before the
meeting, had O'Neil asked Flora whether she would like to see the
Prince? She answered with emotion that she would. She had even expressed
an earnest desire to see him; and had said, if she could be of any use
in aiding him to escape from his enemies, she would do it.

O'Neil had had various opportunities of studying the real character of
Flora Macdonald. He must have had an extraordinary notion of her energy
when he first proposed to her, whilst they met in Clanranald's house,
to take the Prince with her to Skye, dressed up in woman's clothes. This
proposition appeared to Flora so "fantastical and dangerous," that she
positively declined it. "A Macdonald, a Macleod, a Campbell militia
were," she observed, "in South Uist in quest of the Prince: a guard was
posted at every ferry; every boat was seized; no person could leave Long
Island without a passport; and the channel between Uist and Skye was
covered with ships of war." Such was her resolution whilst she discussed
the subject with O'Neil at the house of her kinsman, Clanranald. Nor
does that sense of the dangers of her undertaking lessen the heroism of
the enterprise. But her woman's heart, however timid it might be at
Clanranald's castle, was touched, when she beheld the Prince; and
compassion, from which spring the noblest resolves, inspired her to
exertion.

As the Prince, attended by O'Neil, drew near to the hut belonging to
Angus Macdonald, the latter quitted Charles, and went aside, with a
design to inform himself whether the independent companies of militia
were to pass that way, or not, on the following day, as he had been
informed. Such, at least, was his pretext; but he had an appointment
with Flora Macdonald, who was awaiting him near the hut. To his
question, she answered that "they would not pass until the day after."
Then O'Neil ventured to tell the young lady that he had brought a friend
to see her. She inquired in some agitation "if it was the Prince?" He
replied that it was, and he instantly brought her into the shealing. The
kind heart of Flora was afflicted at the sight. Charles was exhausted
with fatigue and misery; he had become thin and weak, and his health was
greatly affected by the hardships which he had undergone. He and O'Neil
had lost indeed the means of personal comfort; they had but two shirts
with them, and every article of wearing apparel was worn out. To a
feeble mind, the depressed state of Prince Charles's affairs, his
broken-down aspect, and the dangers which surrounded him, would have
inspired reluctance to serve one so desolate. These circumstances,
however, only softened the resistance which Flora had at first made to
the scheme suggested for his escape, and renewed her desire to aid him.

After her first introduction, the discourse for some time turned upon
his dangerous situation; the best remedy for which was, as both the
Prince and O'Neil hinted, for Flora to convey him in disguise to Skye,
where her mother lived. This seemed the more feasible, from the
situation which her father-in-law held, and which would enable him to
give a pass for herself and her servant.

The Prince assented to the expediency of the proposal, which originated
with O'Neil, and immediately asked Flora if she would undertake to carry
the plan into effect. Flora answered with great respect and loyalty, but
declined, saying that "Sir Alexander Macdonald, who commanded the
militia in Skye, was too much her friend for her to be the instrument of
his ruin." O'Neil endeavoured to combat this opinion, representing that
Sir Alexander was not then in the country, and could not therefore be
implicated: he added, that she might easily convey the Prince to her
mother's, at Armadale, as she lived close by the waterside. O'Neil also
told her of the honour and immortal fame which would redound from so
glorious an action; and the Prince assured her that he should always
retain a deep sense of "so conspicuous a service." The firmness of Flora
had resisted the arguments of O'Neil; but it was overcome by these few
words from the Prince. She consented to let O'Neil know on the following
day at what time every arrangement would be made for the plan which had
been proposed, and she left the Prince and his adherent to shelter
themselves in the mountains of Coradale.[282]

On leaving the shealing, Flora at first returned to Milton; but, having
fully made up her mind to undertake the enterprise, she set out for
Ormaclade, the seat of Clanranald, on Saturday the twenty-first of June.
Her journey was not without perilous adventures. On passing a ford, she
was taken prisoner by one of the militia, on account of not having a
passport. She inquired by whom they were commanded; and, finding that
her step-father was their captain, she refused to give an answer to the
questions put to her until she saw him. She was made a prisoner for that
night; her captivity being shared by her servant Neil Mac Kechan, a
clansman, who was the father of Marshal Macdonald, Duke of Tarentum. In
the morning, Hugh Macdonald of Armadale, the step-father of Flora,
arrived, and liberated her; granting a passport for herself, her
servant, and for another woman whom she styled Betty Burke, a good
spinster, whom Armadale in the innocency of his heart recommended to
his wife at Armadale, as she had much lint to spin. His letter has been
preserved; and there is every reason to believe, that, when writing it,
Armadale was wholly unconscious of the design of Flora.[283]

The letter of Armadale to his wife ran as follows:--"I have sent your
daughter from this country lest she should be frightened with the troops
lying here. She has got one Betty Burke, an Irish girl, who, as she
tells me, is a good spinner. If her spinning pleases you, you may keep
her till she spins all your lint: or, if you have any wool to spin, you
may employ her. I have sent Mac Kechan along with your daughter and
Betty Burke, to take care of them. I am, your dutiful husband,

                                                   "HUGH MACDONALD."
"June 22nd, 1746."

       *       *       *       *       *

It was late in the afternoon of the Sunday on which Flora had obtained
her passport, before she could communicate with her friends in the
mountains; about four o'clock, however, they received a message telling
them that _all was well_. The Prince and his companion, therefore,
determined immediately to join their protectress.

Upon being set at liberty, Flora went immediately to Ormaclade, where
she had, in Lady Clanranald, an enthusiastic assistant. She remained at
Ormaclade for several days, making arrangements for the complete
disguise of the Prince.

The Prince and O'Neil had only waited for the arrival of Flora's
messenger to set out and meet their heroic friend; but the trusty
individual who had brought them the tidings that _all was well_,
informed them that they could not pass either of the fords which
separated South Uist from Benbecula, as they were guarded by militia. In
this extremity the Prince knew not how he should ever reach the place
appointed for his meeting with Flora, which was Rossinish, in Benbecula,
from which spot she was to conduct him to Skye. An inhabitant of South
Uist, seeing his perplexity, offered him a boat: the proffered aid was
accepted; and Charles, with O'Neil, was landed on a promontory which the
pilot of the boat assured the Prince was the island of Benbecula.
Charles therefore dismissed the boatmen, with orders to meet him on the
opposite side of the island; and began his journey. He had not gone far
when he found himself surrounded with water, and perceived that the
pilot had made a mistake. Neither Charles nor his companions had ever
before been in this part of Benbecula. They looked around them on the
desolate prospect, and perceived that they were on a peninsula,
perfectly desert, and which at high-water was separated from Benbecula.
At first Charles hoped, that, when the tide was out, some passage might
be discovered; but the waves retired and no passage appeared. The Prince
was not disheartened; for his courage, never justly questioned, had
gained its best allies, patience and fortitude, during the adversities
of the last few months. He supported the fainting spirits of his
companions; and, to encourage them to search for a passage, said that he
knew of one, although he was in fact as ignorant as they were. At length
he discovered a passage, and the party reached a little hut, which they
were assured was in Benbecula.[284] He marched on, exhausted as he was,
to Rossinish, and arrived there at midnight, but found not the deliverer
they expected; on the contrary, he learned that they were within fifty
miles of the enemy. Hungry as they were, having eaten nothing all day,
the Prince and his fainting companions were obliged to retreat four
miles. Captain O'Neil was then sent to Ormaclade, to inquire why Flora
had not been true to her appointment. She told him that she now
considered that North Uist would be a safer place of refuge than Skye,
and that she had engaged a cousin of hers to receive him there. O'Neil
remained at Ormaclade, and sent a boy to inform the Prince, who was now
only at eight miles' distance, of this proposal; but that scheme was
soon abandoned, the gentleman to whom Flora referred refusing to receive
the Prince. In this dilemma, Charles was informed that his enemies had
quitted Rossinish, and he therefore hastened to that place. His safe
arrival there was, indeed, almost miraculous. Near him was a guard of
fifty men; the island was full of militia; and the secret of his being
in it was known to many a poor cotter. But, in these vicissitudes of his
eventful and unhappy life, the Prince was thrown among a faithful and
honourable people, in whose bosoms the conviction was planted, that to
betray him would bring down a curse upon themselves and their posterity.

On arriving at Rossinish, Captain O'Neil was again dispatched to Flora
to express the disappointment of Charles on not seeing her, and to beg
her to join him. She promised faithfully to do so on the following day;
and she kept her word. Having hired a six-oared boat to convey her to
Skye, and appointed it to be at a certain part of the coast, she set out
for Rossinish: accompanied by Lady Clanranald, whose participation in
the cause was shortly afterwards punished by imprisonment;--by a Mrs.
Macdonald, and by Mac Kechan, her servant. They entered a hut, where
they found this unfortunate descendant of an ill-fated race preparing
his own dinner. It consisted of the heart, liver, and kidneys of a
sheep, which he was turning upon a wooden spit. The compassion of the
ladies was roused by this sight; but Charles, as he bade them welcome to
the humble repast, moralized on his fate. He observed, that all _kings_
would be benefited by such an ordeal as that which he had endured. His
philosophy was seasoned by the hope of attaining what he ever
desired,--the hereditary monarchy which he believed to be his
birthright. He observed, that the wretched to-day, may be happy
to-morrow. At the dinner, Flora Macdonald sat on the right-hand of the
Prince, and Lady Clanranald on the left.

After the meal was ended, Charles was requested by Flora to assume the
female apparel which Lady Clanranald had brought. It was, of course,
very homely, and consisted of a flowered linen gown, a light-coloured
quilted petticoat, and a mantle of clean camlet, made after the Irish
fashion, with a hood. Their dangers, as he put on his dress, did not
check the merriment of the party; and many jokes were passed upon the
costume of Betty Burke. A small shallop was lying near the shore, and
Flora proposed that they should remove near to the place whence they
were to embark, for her fears had been excited by a message which
arrived from Ormaclade, acquainting Lady Clanranald that a party of
soldiers, under the infamous Captain Fergusson, had arrived at her
house, and had taken up their quarters there. Lady Clanranald hastened
home, where she managed to deceive and perplex both General Campbell,
who had lately arrived in Benbecula, and Captain Fergusson.

And now another trial was at hand:--it was necessary for Captain O'Neil
and the Prince to separate. The Irishman would fain have remained with
Charles, but Flora was firm, as well as kind; her opinion on this point
was decided; and O'Neil was obliged to yield. This point was not gained
without much difficulty, for Charles even remonstrated. O'Neil took his
leave, and made his way, through a country traversed by troops, to South
Uist, where O'Sullivan had been left. "I could now," writes Captain
O'Neil in his journal, when he relates his departure from the Prince,
"only recommend him to God and his good fortune." This kind-hearted man
was afterwards taken prisoner by Captain Fergusson, who had him stripped
and threatened not only with the rack, but also with being whipped by
his hangman, because he would not disclose where the Prince was. These
cruelties were opposed, however, by a junior officer, who, coming out
with a drawn sword, threatened Fergusson with a beating, and saved
O'Neil from the punishment which was to have been the requital of his
fidelity.

When all were gone, except Flora, the Prince, and Mac Kechan, the party
proceeded to the sea-shore, where they arrived wet and wearied, and
passed the night upon a rock. They made a fire to warm themselves, and
endeavoured still to maintain hope and cheerfulness. How picturesque and
singular must have been the group, thus awaiting the moment which should
perhaps only conduct them to fresh perils! As they reclined among the
heath which grew on the rock, four wherries, filled with armed men,
caused the little party to extinguish their fire, and to hide themselves
in the heather. The wherries, which made at first for the shore, sailed
by to the southward, within a gun-shot of the spot where Charles Edward
and Flora were concealed. At eight o'clock in the evening of Saturday,
the twenty-eighth of June 1746, the Prince and she set sail from
Benbecula for Skye.

The evening on which they quitted the shores which had been to them such
scenes of peril was clear; but, not long after they had embarked, the
sea became rough, and the weather stormy. Prince Charles resolved never
to despond, sang songs to prevent the spirits of the company from
flagging, and talked gaily and hopefully of the future. Exhausted by her
previous exertions, Flora sank into a sleep; and Charles carefully
watched her slumbers, being afraid lest the voices of the boatmen should
arouse her, or, in the dark, that any of the men should step upon her.
She awoke in a surprise at some little bustle in the boat, and asked
hastily "What was the matter?" What must have been her emotions at that
moment!

The next day, Sunday, was one of anxiety. The boatmen had lost their
track, and had no compass; the wind had changed, it was then calm. They
made, however, towards Waternish, in the west of Skye; but they found
the place possessed by militia, and three boats were visible near the
shore. A man on board one of the boats fired at them; on which they made
away as fast as they could; for, in addition to that danger, several
ships of war were now in sight. The Prince and his friends took shelter,
therefore, in a cleft of a rock on the shore, and there remained to rest
the men, who had been up all night, and to prepare their provisions for
dinner. The party then resumed their voyage: fortunately it was calm,
for otherwise, in any distress of weather, they must have been overtaken
and have perished, for an alarm had already been given of the appearance
of a strange boat, and the militia were upon the watch; the promised
reward set upon Charles having excited all the vigilance of his enemies.
At length, after rowing some time, they landed at Kilbride in
Troternish, in Skye, about twelve miles to the north of Waternish. But
several parties of militia were in the neighbourhood. Flora now quitted
the boat, and went with Neil Mac Kechan to Mugstat, the residence of Sir
Alexander Macdonald: here she desired one of the servants to apprise
Lady Macdonald of her arrival. The lady was not unprepared to receive
her, for a kinswoman had gone a short time before to tell her of the
enterprise in which Flora had engaged.

Lady Margaret was well disposed to give the cause every assistance in
her power. She was the daughter of the celebrated Susanna, Countess of
Eglintoune, and of Alexander, ninth Earl of Eglintoune, who was
supposed, while ostensibly supporting the family on the throne, to be a
secret friend of the Stuarts.[285] Lady Margaret was one of seven
sisters, famed for their loveliness, and for the "Eglintoune air," a
term applied to that family as a tribute to the lofty grace of their
deportment. "It was a goodly sight," observes Mr. Chambers, "a century
ago, to see the long processions of sedans containing Lady Eglintoune
and her daughters devolve from the Close,[286] and proceed to the
Assembly Rooms in the West Bow, where there was usually a considerable
crowd of plebeian admirers congregated, to behold their lofty and
graceful figures step from the chairs on the pavement." Lady Margaret
was greatly beloved in Skye. When she rode through the island, the
people ran before her, and took the stones off the road, lest her horse
should stumble. Her husband was also very popular. Such was the
hospitality of Mugstat, that every week a hogshead of claret was drunk
at his table.[287]

Lady Margaret had now been married six years to Sir Alexander Macdonald
of Macdonald. She was the mother of three sons, two of whom were
eminently distinguished. The first, Sir James Macdonald, was a young man
of singular accomplishments, and the friend of Lord Lyttleton; he was
endowed "with great talents for business, great propriety of behaviour,
great politeness of manners." To these acquirements he added those
amiable qualities, which, united to great erudition, procured him the
title of the "Marcellus of the Western Isles." His early death was
regarded as a general calamity; his tomb was honoured by an inscription
composed by Lyttleton. When Dr. Johnson visited the isle of Skye, this
young man, who died at Rome in the twenty-fifth year of his age, was
still mentioned with tears. His brother, Sir Alexander, the English-bred
chieftain, but ill-supplied his loss. He was no Highlander. "Were I in
your place, sir," said Johnson to the young chieftain, "in seven years I
would make this an independent island. I would roast oxen whole, and
hang out a flag as a signal to the Macdonalds to come and get beef and
whiskey." Sir Alexander, of whom Johnson had heard heavy complaints of
rents racked, and the islanders driven to emigration, bore with
politeness the rough assaults of the Doctor: he nevertheless started
difficulties. "Nay, sir," rejoined Johnson, "if you are born to object,
I have done with you, sir. I would have a magazine of arms." "They would
rust," was the meek reply. "Let there be men to clean them," cried the
Doctor, "your ancestors did not use to let their arms rust!" Such was
Lady Margaret's second son. The third, and youngest son of Lady
Margaret, revived, however, all the fondly remembered virtues of Sir
James. Some persons may still recall the benignant appearance of the
late venerable Sir Archibald Macdonald, Lord Chief Baron of the Court of
Exchequer in England: there are many who must recollect his virtues and
acquirements with respect.

The character of Lady Margaret was not that of her second son; but of a
spirited generous woman. She was not one who would allow the arms of
her ancestors "to rust." Before the Prince's arrival, her energies had
been employed in contriving the fittest route for him to take after
leaving Mugstat, for she was as enthusiastic an adherent of Charles
Edward as any of her female relations. Whilst he was in North Uist, he
had sent Lady Margaret a letter, enclosed, by Hugh Macdonald of
Balishair, to his brother Donald Roy Macdonald, with orders to deliver
it to Lady Margaret alone; and, in case of attack while at sea, to sink
it, by tying it to a stone. This letter revealed the secret of the
Prince's intention to quit the Long Island: it informed Lady Margaret
that Charles wanted almost all necessary habiliments; and desired that
some shirts and blankets might be provided for him; the Prince having
hitherto slept only in his plaid, a custom which he retained almost
constantly during his wanderings. Balishair's letter had also unfolded a
plan at that time in contemplation, that Charles should take refuge on
the small grass-island called Fladdanuach, belonging to Sir Alexander
Macdonald, and having only one tenant upon it. Thither Lady Margaret was
to send Donald Roy Macdonald with the articles to be in readiness for
the Prince.

Lady Margaret had instantly complied with these injunctions. Eventually
the notion of making Fladdanuach the retreat of Charles was given up;
but the zealous Lady Margaret had made the most careful preparations for
that scheme, and it was not from any negligence on her part that it was
abandoned. The packet sent by Balishair contained, however, another
valuable paper. This was a letter written in Prince Charles's own hand,
chiefly one of compliment, and full of gratitude to Lady Margaret for
sending him newspapers, which had been delivered to him through
Macdonald of Balishair.

This precious letter had, some time before Flora had arrived at Mugstat,
been delivered to Lady Margaret. When she received it, she rose from her
seat, and kissing it said, alluding to a precaution which had been
recommended, "I will never burn it; I will preserve it for the sake of
him who wrote it to me. Although King George's forces should come to the
house, I shall find means to secure it." Afterwards, however, her house
being searched by the dreaded Fergusson, she considered it necessary for
Charles's safety to burn it; although, as it proved, there was no search
whatsoever for papers.

Lady Margaret had been aided in her efforts and plans by a zealous
kinsman, Captain Roy Macdonald, who had been wounded at the battle of
Culloden. This person was still under medical care, and was living in
the house of a surgeon named Maclean, at Troternish. When Charles landed
at Skye, Roy Macdonald, wounded as he was, had sailed to Fladdanuach, at
Lady Margaret's bidding, with clothes and money, and had returned just
in time to witness her perplexity at the Prince's unexpected arrival.

Upon that event being made known by Flora Macdonald to Lady Margaret,
she sent a message to Captain Roy Macdonald, entreating him to come to
her immediately. He complied, and found Lady Margaret walking in the
garden of Mugstat, talking very earnestly to Alexander Macdonald of
Kingsburgh, a gentleman of the neighbourhood, who acted as factor, or
chamberlain, to Sir Alexander. As Roy Macdonald approached, Lady
Margaret exclaimed, holding up her hands, "Oh, Donald Roy, we are ruined
for ever!" It was then imparted to him that the Prince was within a
quarter of a mile from Mugstat, in woman's clothes; that Lieutenant
Macleod, who was employed to guard that part of Skye, and three or four
of his militia-men, were about the house; a number of others being not
far distant: what was still more alarming, Flora Macdonald and the
Lieutenant were at that time conversing together in the dining-room.

A consultation immediately ensued as to the plan the most proper to
ensure Charles Edward's safety. Donald Roy Macdonald declared, that,
whatever they should agree upon, "He would undertake (God willing) to
accomplish at the risk of his life." Kingsburgh was first called upon to
give his opinion. He proposed that the Prince should sail by the point
of Troternish to Raasay, because it would be impossible for him to
remain in Skye with safety. This plan was, however, opposed by Lady
Margaret, who said, that, if the Prince was to sail for Raasay, it were
better that he should remain at Mugstat all night. In short, no scheme
appeared practicable; and the consultation was frequently broken off in
despair, and renewed only to start fresh difficulties. At last Donald
Roy said, "What do you think, Kingsburgh, if the Prince should run the
risk of making his way over to Portree by land?" Kingsburgh,
notwithstanding that he was full of apprehension, thought that the plan
might be tried, although the distance from Mugstat to Portree was
fourteen long Highland miles. At first it was decided that Donald Roy
should be the bearer of this scheme to the Prince; but it was afterwards
argued, that, since the Prince must make "a monstrous figure" in woman's
clothes, there might be some suspicion excited by Donald Roy's talking
to so singular a stranger. It was therefore determined that no one
except Flora Macdonald should be entrusted with the perilous task of
taking messages to Charles at his station on the shore. Lady Margaret in
the course of this conversation expressed "that she was in great
difficulties." It was impossible that she could apply to any of the Clan
for assistance. The general belief was, that Sir Alexander Macdonald was
unfriendly to the Prince, and that no greater favour could be shown by
the chief than seizing the royal fugitive. This increased the danger of
Charles's remaining in Skye, and threw her entirely upon the good
offices of Kingsburgh and Roy Donald.

During this conference Flora Macdonald was keeping up what she
afterwards described to Bishop Forbes as "a close chit-chat" with
Lieutenant Macleod, who put to her questions which she answered as "she
thought fit." Lady Margaret, meantime, could not forbear going in and
out in great anxiety; a circumstance which Flora observed, and which
could not but add to her embarrassment; nevertheless, this extraordinary
young woman maintained the utmost composure. She even dined in company
with the Lieutenant without betraying her perplexity in a single
instance: never was the value of that admirable quality, presence of
mind, more forcibly seen than in this instance. It had been the office
of the Lieutenant to examine every boat that had landed, and to
investigate into the motives and destination of every passenger. How the
boat which had conveyed the Prince to Skye escaped search has not been
explained. At all events, Flora completely baffled every inquiry; and
perhaps no one could do so better than a Scottish woman. The ordinary
caution in reply, observable in Highland females, is very striking. The
Prince was awaiting his fate all this time upon the rock at the shore,
not above a gun-shot from the foot of the garden. The faithful and
anxious servant Mac Kechan went to him repeatedly, but without
molestation; and Macdonald of Kingsburgh, who could not controul his
anxiety to see Charles Edward, providing himself with a bottle of wine
and some bread, also repaired to him. The Prince was then sitting upon
the shore, having startled a flock of sheep, the running of which first
attracted Kingsburgh to the place where he was planted.

Charles had removed to a more distant spot than that which he had at
first selected, for he had been apprised by Neil Mac Kechan of
Kingsburgh's intended visit, and conducted by that faithful servant to
the back of a certain hill, where he was requested to wait until
Kingsburgh should reach him. It was also announced to Charles by Neil,
that he was to go to Portree, resting by the way at the house of
Kingsburgh, who was a staunch Jacobite.

When Kingsburgh drew near to the place where Charles awaited him, he saw
the Prince approaching him with a short thick cudgel (not a very
feminine appendage) in his hand. "Are you," cried Charles, "Mr.
Macdonald of Kingsburgh?" "Yes, sir," replied Kingsburgh. "Then," said
Charles, "all is well; come let us be going." Macdonald, however, first
begged the Prince to partake of some refreshment, which he did; the top
of a rock serving for a table. This being done, they proceeded on their
journey; Kingsburgh telling his fellow-traveller with no less admiration
than joy, "that he could recollect no cause either of business or duty
for his being at Mugstat that day." "I'll tell you the cause," said the
Prince; "Providence sent you hither to take care of me."

They were now interrupted by some country-people coming from the kirk.
These sociable rustics were disposed to favour the Prince and his
companion with their conversation. Kingsburgh could think of no other
way of getting rid of them than saying, "Eh, sirs! cannot ye let alone
talking o' your worldly affairs on the sabbath? and have patience till
another day?" The poor people took the pious hint and moved off.[288]

For some time after the Prince had set out, Flora remained at Mugstat,
where Lady Margaret, who could only speak to her in presence of the
officer, pressed her much to stay, and feigned a great anxiety to retain
her for a few days, telling her that she had promised to do so the first
time that she came that way. But Flora excused herself, saying that she
wanted to be at home in these troublesome times, and also to see her
mother. She was at length suffered to depart, accompanied by Mrs.
Macdonald of Kirkibost, the lady who had apprised Lady Margaret of her
visit, but who was not in the secret of the Prince's disguise. This
lady's maid and man servant, and Mac Kechan completed the party. Lady
Margaret during the whole of this agitating affair never saw the Prince
"in any shape."[289]

Flora and her companions soon overtook the Prince and Kingsburgh. They
found the curiosity of her companion somewhat inconvenient, for Mrs.
Macdonald was very anxious to see the "strange woman's" face; but it was
always turned away from her inquisitive gaze. Yet Mrs. Macdonald made
her observations nevertheless. "She never," she said, "had seen before
such an impudent-looking woman--and she must either be an Irish woman,
or a man in woman's clothes!" Flora, who had the happy and rare art of
not saying too much, replied that "she was an Irishwoman, for she had
seen her before." The maid who attended Mrs. Macdonald took notice of
the supposed Irish woman's awkward way of managing her petticoats, and
remarked what long strides she took in walking. In particular, in wading
a rivulet, the Prince lifted up his troublesome garments so high, that
Mac Kechan called out to him "for God's sake to take care, or he would
discover himself." Charles laughed heartily, and thanked him for his
cautions: he much feared that they would be neglected. Flora began to be
apprehensive of the loquacious and observant mistress and maid. She, as
well as Mrs. Macdonald, was now on horseback, and she proposed that the
ladies should go on a little faster, and leave those on foot to take
their time. There was another object in this arrangement: the country
was traversed by parties of militia, and it was necessary for the Prince
and Kingsburgh to diverge by a cross-road over the hills to the place of
their destination. They went therefore by by-paths, south-south-east, to
Kingsburgh's house, which they reached at midnight; Flora having arrived
there a short time before. She had parted with her other companions on
the road.

During this journey of seven long miles, which were performed in a
drenching rain, there was no slight risk, owing to the very singular
demeanour of the Prince, and to the awkwardness with which he performed
his part. Betty Burke was regarded by the gazing passers-by as a very
strange woman. When the country-people greeted him with an obeisance, he
returned it with a bow instead of a curtsey; and in all his gestures he
forgot the woman, and retained the man. After the remonstrance upon
holding his skirts too high, he let them fall down into the streams
which often intersected his path. "Your enemies, sir," remarked
Kingsburgh, "call you a Pretender, but you are the worst at your trade
that I ever saw." "Why," replied Charles laughing, "they do me perhaps
as much injustice in this as in other respects. I have all my life
despised assumed characters, and am the worst dissembler in the world."

Lady Kingsburgh, not expecting her husband that night, had retired to
rest; and her house was not at this time in the best possible condition
for receiving visitors. Kingsburgh, however, introduced Charles into the
hall, and sent a servant up-stairs to desire Lady Kingsburgh to rise and
dress herself. But the lady was not disposed to comply with her
husband's commands that night. She sent a message to beg that he and
his guests would help themselves to whatsoever they found in the house,
and excuse her absence. As soon as she had despatched this answer, her
daughter, a child of seven years of age, ran into the room, and told
her, with much astonishment, that her father had brought home the most
odd "_ill-shaken-up wife_" that she had ever seen, and had conducted her
into the hall. Kingsburgh now made his appearance, and entreated his
wife to come down-stairs, her presence being absolutely requisite.[290]
Lady Kingsburgh was now really aroused. She could not help suspecting
that her husband had taken into his house some of those proscribed and
wretched fugitives who were skulking about the country. She could well
imagine the distress of many of the Jacobites, for a paper had been, for
some weeks, read in the kirks, forbidding all persons to give any sort
of sustenance to a rebel, under pain of being deprived of it
themselves.[291]

She now dressed herself, sending her little girl into the hall to fetch
her keys. The child went down-stairs, but returned, saying that she
could not go into the hall, the "strange woman" was walking backwards
and forwards in so frightful a manner. Lady Kingsburgh therefore went
herself, but stopped short at the door on seeing the stranger, whose
aspect seems to have been unusually gaunt and unwomanly. Her husband,
however, bade her go in for her keys, and at last she found courage to
enter.

As she walked into the hall, Charles arose from his seat and advanced
to meet her. According to the custom of the day, which applied both to
ladies and gentlemen, he offered her the compliment of a salute. Lady
Kingsburgh felt the roughness of no woman's cheek against her own.
Alarmed at the discovery, she nearly fainted; she spoke not, neither did
the stranger. She went hastily towards Kingsburgh, and told him her
suspicions. No reproaches were uttered on her part for the introduction,
which had evidently some risk connected with it; she merely asked, "Does
this strange woman know anything about the Prince?" Her husband, taking
her hand, replied, "My dear, this is the Prince himself." "The Prince!"
returned Lady Kingsburgh; "then we shall all be hanged!" "We can die but
once," answered Kingsburgh; "could we die in a better cause? We are only
doing an act of humanity."

He then desired her to send in supper. "Let us have eggs, butter,
cheese, or whatever can be procured in the shortest time." The lady
remonstrated. "Eggs, butter, and cheese for a Prince!" "he will never
look at such a supper." "Ah, my dear," returned Kingsburgh, "you little
know how this poor Prince has fared of late. Our supper will be a
banquet to him. Besides, any formal preparation would excite suspicion.
Make haste, and come to supper yourself." Lady Kingsburgh had now a new
source of alarm. "_I_ come to supper!" she cried; "I do not know how to
behave before a Prince." She was reassured by her husband, who told her
that there was no difficulty in behaving before _this_ Prince, who was
so easy and obliging.

The party, who had undergone such a day's journey, sat up nearly till
dawn, and became merry over their supper. Never was there a more joyous
or inspiring guest at a feast than the unfortunate Charles. He was now
in the house of a trusted adherent; and his spirits, which had been
unaltered even in huts and caverns, gladdened all present. His favourite
toast, was "To the Black Eye!" by which, as his pilot to the Long
Island, Donald Macleod, relates, he meant the second daughter of France;
"and I never heard him," said Donald, "name any particular health but
that alone. When he spoke of that lady, which he did frequently, he
appeared to be more than ordinarily well-pleased."[292]

The Prince ate heartily, and drank a bumper of brandy to the health of
his host and hostess. When the ladies had retired, he took out a little
black piece of tobacco-pipe which had been his consolation in all his
wanderings, and began to smoke. Like most persons who have recourse to a
similar practice, Prince Charles framed an excuse for it on the plea of
health, telling Kingsburgh, that he had found it essential, in order to
cure the tooth-ache, from which he had suffered much. His pipe had
obtained the name, among his companions, of the "_cutty_".

A small china punch-bowl was then produced by the host, and was twice
replenished with the very popular beverage called toddy, of which the
Prince expressed his unqualified approbation. Conversation, thus aided
and exhilarated, flowed freely; and the charm of Charles's gay courtesy
was long remembered by his Highland landlord, who thus, at the risk of
all that was dear to him, welcomed the unfortunate wanderer to his home.
Morning dawned before either the Prince or Kingsburgh talked of
retiring. At last Kingsburgh became anxious. He knew that it was
necessary for Charles to proceed to Portree early the next day; and he
earnestly desired that the Prince should have some rest. He refused to
fill the bowl again, and began to urge his Highness to retire. Charles
eagerly pressed for another supply of usquebaugh and warm water. In the
contention, the bowl, which Kingsburgh had brought from Mugstat for the
Prince to drink the wine out of on the shore, was broken. This ended the
altercation, and Charles retired to rest.

The next day was far advanced before the Prince, after his conviviality
of the preceding evening, was aroused; and the watchful Flora in vain
sent Kingsburgh into his chamber to persuade him to rise. Kingsburgh had
not the heart to awaken the fugitive from a repose which he so rarely
enjoyed, and, on finding him in a profound sleep, retired. At last, one
o'clock had struck, and the Prince was summoned to begin another
journey. Kingsburgh, inquiring if he had had a good night, was answered
that he had never enjoyed a better one in his life. "I had almost
forgotten," said Charles, "what a good bed was." He then prepared to set
out. He was first to go to Portree; his destination being, ultimately,
the island of Raasay. The choice of this place as a retreat originated
in the ancient league which subsisted between the families of Macdonald
and of Raasay. Whenever the head of either family died, his sword was
given to the head of the other. The chief of Raasay had joined the
Highland army, but had saved his estate by conveying it to his son,
young Macleod. Sir Alexander Macdonald, on that occasion, had thus
addressed his neighbour and ally: "Don't be afraid, Raasay; I'll use my
interest to keep you safe; and, if your estate should be taken, I'll buy
it for the family. And he would have done it."[293]

On quitting Kingsburgh, the Prince was determined to cast off his
disguise. Kingsburgh was favourable to the change, but Flora would not
consent to it: it was necessary, she thought, that the wanderer should
leave the house in the same dress as he had entered it; so that, if
inquiry were made, the servants would not be able to describe his
appearance. He, therefore, once more figured in the habiliments of Betty
Burke; and the only change, which was at the suggestion of Kingsburgh,
was in the article of shoes; those in which he had walked being now worn
out; a new pair was therefore supplied by Kingsburgh. When the exchange
was made, Kingsburgh hung up the old shoes in a corner of his room,
observing, that they might still do him some service. Charles inquired,
"How?" "Why," replied Kingsburgh, "when you are at St. James's, I shall
hold up these shoes before you, and thus remind you of your night's
entertainment and protection under my roof." Charles, with a smile,
desired him to be as "good as his word." These precious deposits, never
being required to appear at St. James's, were, after old Kingsburgh's
death, cut into pieces, and kept as relics by the Jacobite ladies, and
even by the grave but enthusiastic Bishop Forbes.[294]

It had been decided that Flora Macdonald should proceed on horseback to
Portree by a different road, and should meet the Prince there. She
therefore took a temporary leave of Charles; and Kingsburgh accompanied
him to a wood not far from his house. When the Prince had departed, Lady
Kingsburgh went up-stairs, and folded up the sheets in which he had
slept, declaring that they should never be washed nor used till her
death, when they should be made into her winding-sheet. She was
afterwards induced to divide this valuable memorial with Flora
Macdonald.

Mac Kechan, and a little herd-boy by way of a guide, alone accompanied
the Prince, as he set out upon a laborious walk of fourteen miles
towards Portree. It would have excited much suspicion, had any more
important persons attended him. At an appointed place Charles threw off
his female attire, and again "grasped the claymore." His clothes were
concealed in a bush until they could be carried to Kingsburgh's house,
where they were burnt upon the alarm of a search on the part of the
military. The gown only was retained, by the express desire of
Kingsburgh's daughter.[295] The Prince now once more wore the Highland
dress, which had been furnished him by Kingsburgh.

Meantime, Captain Roy Macdonald had gone to seek the young Macleod of
Raasay, or, as he was called, Rona, whose very brother-in-law,
Archibald Macqueen, was then in search for the Prince in South Uist.
Young Macleod, though at first indisposed to confide the place where his
father had taken refuge to Roy Macdonald, ended eventually by
expressing, both on his own part and on that of his father, the
strongest desire to serve the Prince, especially in his distress.
"Then," said Roy Macdonald, "I expect the Prince this night at Portree;
and as there is no boat on this side fit to carry him over to Raasay,
you must do your best, Rona, to get one for the purpose to ferry the
Prince over to Raasay, for thither he means to set out from Portree."
Rona undertook this service, but was unwilling to leave Portree until he
should see the Prince; for he had not been "out" in the last campaign.
But, being repeatedly urged by Roy Macdonald, he at last embarked in a
crazy old boat which filled perpetually with water, and could only with
assistance be made to convey passengers from Portree to Raasay, a
distance nearly of five miles. Before young Raasay embarked, Roy
Macdonald had received a note from Kingsburgh, importing that Flora
Macdonald was so fatigued that she could not go to Portree so soon as
she had intended; and ordering the captain to provide a boat to ferry
her about to Strath, because it would be easier to her "to make it out"
by sea than overland. Captain Roy Macdonald took the hint, and judged
exactly for whom the boat thus carefully alluded to was to be provided.
On Monday the thirtieth of June, young Raasay, and his brothers Murdoch
Macleod and Malcolm Macleod, arrived after a short, but perilous voyage
within a mile of Portree. Malcolm went to the shore, leaving Rona in
the boat. As he walked from the beach, he saw three persons approaching.
It is said, that at Raasay nine months of the year are rainy. This June
evening was one of the rainy periods; and Malcolm Macleod could not,
through the darkness, discover who these three persons were. The place
of meeting agreed upon was a small public-house near the shore, about
half a mile from the port of Portree; to this house Malcolm Macleod sent
to Captain Roy Macdonald, desiring him to come out and speak to a
friend. Roy Macdonald complied with the summons, taking with him a half
mutchkin stoup full of whiskey. Macleod then informed him that Rona and
his brother Murdoch were on the shore with a boat, which, with much
difficulty and danger they had brought from Raasay to convey the Prince
to that island; he begged that they would not delay, as it was raining
very heavily.

Donald Roy Macdonald then told Malcolm that the three persons whom he
had seen going towards the public-house were the Prince, Mac Kechan, and
the herd-boy. Of their approach he had been apprized by the energetic
Flora, who had arrived at Portree some hours previously.

Donald Roy Macdonald, who is described as being the model of "a perfect
Highland gentleman," shared the enthusiasm of Flora. Although still lame
from the wound in his foot, he had, during the course of that evening,
looked out incessantly for the Prince, but was unable to see him. He had
not, however, been long in the public-house, before the voice of the
herd-boy calling for the landlord, and desiring to know if one Donald
Roy Macdonald were there, drew his attention. He stepped out, and was
told by the boy that there was a gentleman, a little above the house,
who desired to speak to him. The captain sent the boy away, and
immediately went to the spot where the Prince stood. Charles embraced
him, putting his head first over one shoulder, and then over the other;
and telling Donald to use no ceremony, for that it was impossible to
know who might be observing them. When Donald expressed his regret at
the darkness of the night, Charles said, "I am more sorry that _our
lady_" (so he called Flora Macdonald) "should be so abused with the
rain."

After they entered the house, a curious scene took place. "The Prince,"
relates Donald Roy,[296] "no sooner entered the house than he asked if a
dram could be got there, the rain pouring down from his clothes; he
having on plaid, without breeches, trews, or even philibeg. Before he
sat down, he got his dram; and then the company desired him to shift,
and put on a dry shirt, Captain Roy Macdonald giving him his philibeg.
The Prince refused to shift, as Miss Flora Macdonald was in the room;
but the captain and Neil Mac Kechan told him, it was not time to stand
upon ceremonies, and prevailed upon him to put on a dry shirt. By this
time they had brought some meat into the room, (the Prince having called
for it before he would think of shifting,) which consisted of butter,
cheese, bread, and roasted fish."

The Prince was so hungry and exhausted, after a walk from Kingsburgh to
Portree, "seven good Highland miles," that he began to eat before he
put on his coat. The supply of food which he had brought with him
consisted of a cold hen, a bottle of brandy, and a lump of sugar in one
of his pockets: these, with the addition of a bottle of whiskey procured
at Portree, constituted his store of provisions until he reached Raasay.
On seeing the Prince eat heartily, whilst only in his shirt and
philibeg, Captain Donald Macdonald could not forbear smiling. "Sir," he
observed, "I believe that is the English fashion," "What fashion do you
mean?" asked the Prince. "They say," replied Donald, "that the English,
when they eat heartily, throw off their clothes." "They are right,"
answered Charles, "lest anything should incommode their hands when they
are at work." The Prince then asked, if any drink could be had. He was
told that he could have nothing but whiskey or water, for no such thing
as beer or ale was to be had in the isle of Skye. Then Charles asked if
he could have some milk, but was informed that there was none in the
house. The only beverage which seemed attainable was water, of which
there was a supply in what Captain Donald Macdonald called an "ugly
cog," which the landlord of the house used for throwing water out of his
boat. This vessel though coarse, was clean. "The captain," relates
Donald Roy, "had been taking a drink out of the cog, and he reached it
to the Prince,[297] who took it out of his hand, and, after looking at
the cog, he stared the captain in the face, who upon this made up to him
(the landlord being in the room), and whispered him softly in the ear to
drink out of it without any ceremony; for though the cog looked ill,
yet it was clean; and, if he should show any nicety, it might raise a
suspicion about him in the landlord's mind. The Prince said, 'You are
right,' and took a hearty draught of water out of the rough cog, and
then he put on his coat."

During all this scene, Captain Roy Macdonald could scarcely disguise his
anxiety that the Prince should leave Portree. But Charles was reluctant
to relinquish shelter and society; the rain was still heavily pouring
down, and the night on which the unfortunate wanderer was again to trust
his fate to strangers was very dark. In vain, therefore, did Macdonald,
when the landlord had left the room, represent to Charles, that this,
being a public-house, was frequented by all "sorts of folks," and that
some curiosity would be excited by his appearance. There was, indeed, no
rest for the proscribed fugitive. Charles then asked for tobacco, that
he might smoke a pipe "before he went off." Macdonald answered, that
there was no tobacco, except that which was very coarse; only "roll
tobacco." But Charles persisted in having it, saying "that it would
serve his horn very well." The landlord therefore was ordered to bring
in a quarter of a pound, which he did in scales, at four-pence
halfpenny. The Prince gave a sixpence, but the landlord was desired by
Captain Macdonald to bring in the change. Charles smiled at Donald Roy's
exactness, and said he would not be at the trouble to pick up the
halfpence; but Donald Roy persuaded him to do so, saying, that in his
Highness's present situation he would find "bawbees very useful to him."

A bottle of whiskey having been dispatched between the Prince, Donald
Roy Macdonald, and Neil Mac Kechan, and the pipe being finished,
Charles reluctantly began to talk of his departure. He had learned to
rely upon the fidelity of the brave Clan, one young and gentle daughter
of which had protected him from South Uist, and brought him through a
country swarming with militia to Portree. He was unwilling to be
separated from Donald Roy, and entreated him in a low voice to accompany
him. But Donald begged him to remember that it was not in his power to
be useful to him, considering the open wound in his left foot; that he
should only prove a burden to him, for it would be out of his power to
skulk from place to place; and indeed it would be necessary for him to
ride on horseback, so that any of the parties of militia who were
ranging about would be sure to descry him at a distance, and that would
be ruin to the chance of escape. Charles then said, that "he had always
found himself safe in the hands of a Macdonald, and that, as long as he
could have a Macdonald with him, he still should think himself safe."
Again and again he urged this point. It was affecting to see how
confidingly this ill-fated young man, noble in his nature, leaned upon
those whom he had learned to trust. It is melancholy to reflect that a
temper so kindly should ever have been worked up, and irritated almost
to madness, by those intrigues and misrepresentations which eventually,
combining with the wreck of his other moral qualities, alienated him
from all who really loved him.

"The Prince," as Donald relates, "could not think of parting with him at
all." This was the first time that Charles had entrusted himself,
without a single familiar friend or attendant, to strangers. "Are you,"
he said, again addressing Donald, "afraid to go with me? So long as _I_
have, you shall not want." Again Captain Macdonald referred to his
crippled foot: "he behoved to see," he said, "that his going would only
expose the Prince to new dangers, of which he had already too many to
contend with." In the course of the conversation he took occasion to
tell the Prince, since he had honoured the Macdonalds with his regard,
that, although Sir Alexander Macdonald and his followers did not join
his standard, they wished him well. "I am sensible enough of all that,"
was the reply of Charles. Donald also inquired whether the Prince was
well provided with money; as in case of need, Lady Margaret Macdonald
would supply his wants. But Charles, after expressing his gratitude to
Lady Margaret, declined her aid, as he believed that he had sufficient
to carry him to the mainland.

This painful and memorable scene came at last to a conclusion. After
being repeatedly urged by Donald to depart, Charles bade Mac Kechan
farewell. He then turned to Flora Macdonald: "I believe, madam," he
said, "that I owe you a crown of borrowed money." She answered, in her
literal and simple manner, "It was only half-a-crown." This sum the
Prince paid her. He then saluted her, and said: "Notwithstanding all
that has happened, I hope, madam, we shall meet in St. James's yet." In
this calm, and, apparently laconic manner, he bade Flora adieu. But,
though fate did not permit Charles to testify his gratitude at St.
James's, he is said never to have mentioned without a deep sense of his
obligations the name of his young protectress. In her loyal and simple
heart a sense of duty, enthusiastic reverence, and fond regret dwelt,
whilst that heart continued to beat; and, through the vicissitudes of
her after-life, the service which she had rendered to the Prince
recurred like a ray of sunshine upon a destiny almost continually
clouded and darkened by calamity.

Flora was left alone at Portree, attended still by Mac Kechan, who
afterwards escaped, rejoined the Prince, and went to France with him.
Mac Kechan was a man of good education, and was conjectured by Bishop
Forbes to have been the author of the "Alexis, or the Young Adventurer,"
a romance embodying the principal incidents of Charles Edward's life;
but of this there is no proof.

Meanwhile the Prince proceeded to the shore. He tied the bottle of
whiskey, bought of the landlord, to his belt on one side, and the
brandy, the cold hen, and the four shirts on the other. As he went, he
saw the landlord of the public-house looking out of a window after him;
on which he changed his road. He met young Raasay and his brothers at
the appointed place; and it was there agreed, that in a few days Donald
Macdonald should follow the Prince to Raasay. At his departure the
Prince took out the lump of sugar from his pocket, and said, "Pray give
this to _our lady_, for I fear she will get no sugar where she is
going." The captain refused however to accept of that which seems to
have been considered as a great delicacy. Charles then enjoined Captain
Macdonald to secrecy as to his destination. "Tell nobody--no, not _our
lady_--where I am going; for it is right that my course should not be
known."[298] They then parted; and at daybreak, July the first, 1746,
Charles sailed for Raasay. Captain Macdonald then returned to Portree,
where he slept a great portion of the next day. Here he was closely
questioned by the landlord, who said, that he had a great notion that
the gentleman who had supped at his house was the Prince, for he had
something noble about him. Probably the imprudent liberality of Charles,
and his carelessness about money, may have added to the impression which
his lofty air and fascinating manners generally produced. On the fourth
of July, Charles, after various adventures in the island of Raasay,
escaped to the mountains. This event was announced by a letter sent
mysteriously by Murdoch Macleod to Roy Macdonald, and delivered to him
in the darkness of night. It had neither address on it, nor place, nor
date; but was written by Charles.

    "Sir,

    "I have parted as I intended. Make my compliments to all to whom I
    have given trouble. I am, sir, your humble servant,

                                                    "JAMES HERMION."

This letter was burned by Roy Macdonald, though with great reluctance,
on the day when he subsequently learned that Flora Macdonald had been
made a prisoner.

Flora, after parting from the Prince, went to Armadale to her mother,
after a very fatiguing journey across the country. Her emotions on
separating from Charles have been expressed in a poem entitled "The
Lament of Flora Macdonald," beginning thus:

    "Far o'er the hills of the heather so green,
      And down by the Corrie that skips in the sea,
    The bonny young Flora sat weeping her love--
      The dew on her plaid, and the tear in her e'e.
    She looked at a boat with the breezes that swung,
    And ay as it lessened she sighed and she sung,
      'Farewell to the lad I shall ne'er see again!
    Farewell to my hero, the gallant and young!
      Farewell to the lad I shall ne'er see again,'"[299]

During eight or ten days Flora remained in her house at Armadale without
imparting to any one, even to her mother, the events of the last week.
To make her mother a participator in that affair would indeed have been
no act of kindness, at a time when the merest suspicion of being a
Jacobite was regarded as a crime.

At the expiration of ten days Flora received a message from a person of
her own name, Donald Macdonald of Castletown, in Skye, about four miles
from Armadale, to bid her come to his house in order to meet there the
commanding officer of an independent company, one Macleod of Taliskar,
who had ordered Macdonald to surrender. Flora, a little suspicious of
what might happen, thought proper to consult with her friends as to what
step she should take. They unanimously agreed that she ought not to go;
but "go she would." Then they consulted together what she should say in
case of an investigation. But Flora had made up her mind as to the
answers she should give. She set out to meet her fate. She probably
expected that she should be released after a short examination; for she
knew not then through what channel the part which she had taken in the
Prince's escape had transpired. The fact was, that the boatmen who had
brought her with Charles from Skye had on their return communicated to
Captain Fergusson every particular of the Prince's appearance, and had
even described the gown which he had worn.

Flora afterwards remembered, that at Mugstat Lady Margaret had warned
her that this would be the case, and had pointed out to her the
indiscretion of allowing these men to go back to North Uist.

As she went on the road to Castleton, Flora met her father-in-law,
Macdonald of Armadale, who was returning home; and shortly afterwards
she was apprehended by Captain Macleod of Taliskar, with a party of
soldiers, who were going to seek for her at her mother's house. She was
not suffered to take leave of her mother, nor of her other friends; but
was carried on board the Furnace, a sloop of war, commanded by Captain
John Fergusson, and which lay near Raasay. Happily for Flora, General
Campbell was on board, and by his orders she was treated with the utmost
respect. At her first examination she merely acknowledged, that, on
leaving Uist, she had been solicited by "a great lusty woman" to give
her a passage, as she was a soldier's wife. Her request, Flora said, was
granted; and the woman, upon being landed in Skye, had walked away, and
Flora had seen nothing more of the stranger.

But upon finding that she was mildly treated, and on hearing that the
boatmen had related every circumstance of her voyage, she confessed the
whole truth to General Campbell.

The vessel was bound for Leith. About three weeks after she had been
apprehended, as the ship cruized about, it approached the shore of
Armadale. Here Flora was permitted to land, in order to bid adieu to her
parents. She was sent ashore under a guard of two officers and a party
of soldiers, and was forbidden to say anything in Erse, or anything at
all except in presence of the officers. Here she stayed two hours, and
then returned to the ship. With what emotions she left the island of
Skye and found herself carried as a prisoner to Leith, it is not perhaps
in these tranquil days easy to conceive.

After her apprehension, her father-in-law, Armadale, to use the phrase
of some of the unfortunate Jacobites, "began a-skulking;" a report
having gone about that he had given a pass to his daughter, although
aware that she was travelling with "the Pretender" disguised in woman's
clothes. There was also another source of suspicion against him, which
was his having the Prince's pistols in his keeping. These were given him
by Macdonald of Milton, the brother of Flora; they had been received
either from Charles himself, or from O'Sullivan or O'Neil; but still
they furnished a proof of some communication between Charles Edward and
Armadale. Another sufferer was Donald Roy Macdonald. Among not the least
energetic of those who aided the escape of Charles Edward from the Long
Island, was Donald Roy Macdonald. A model of the true Highland gentleman
in deportment, handsome in person, his conduct fully bore out his
character. To this warm-hearted disinterested young man the Prince
quickly attached himself. Crippled as he was, he was obliged also to
"go a-skulking." He concealed himself in three different caves, where by
turns he made his abode for eight weeks, wrapping himself up in his
plaid, and making his bed of the heather; his subsistence he owed to the
care of Lady Margaret Macdonald, who brought him food, though at the
risk of her own safety. It is consolatory to find heroic friendship, or
compassionate interest, enlivening the melancholy annals of civil
contentions, of revenge and treachery.

The sufferings of Captain Macdonald during his concealment, although
alleviated by Lady Margaret's care, were nevertheless considerable.
During the months of July and August, which he passed in the caves, the
midges and flies annoyed his frame, sensitive from the still open wound,
and drove him for coolness into the recesses of the caverns. It was
necessary to be very careful in stepping out, lest the country-people
should discover his retreat. Late at night, or very early in the
morning, he crept out to supply his bottle with water from some
neighbouring _burn_ or rivulet. At last, the act of indemnity set him
free. Until the month of November 1746, his wound, exasperated by
constant exertion, was very troublesome. His misery was solaced by the
care and skill of a friendly surgeon, who sent Donald Roy dressings by a
proper hand, even while he remained in the cave, and at last the wound
healed. In an account of the Prince's escape, written by Donald at the
request of Bishop Forbes, he says, "He (Donald Roy) now walks as
cleverly as ever, without any the smallest pain or halt; and made his
last journey from Skye to Edinburgh in twelve days on foot, and, as he
came along, visited several friends and acquaintances."[300]

One cannot help rejoicing that Lady Margaret Macdonald escaped all
inconvenience, except suspicion. The conduct of her husband, Sir
Alexander, had been prudent. During the progress of the insurrection he
had written to Keppoch, after the retreat from Stirling:--"Seeing I look
upon your affairs as in a desperate state, I will not join you: but
then, I assure you, I will as little rise against you." Of Sir
Alexander's followers, a force amounting to five hundred men, only two
had joined the Prince; these were James Macdonald of the isle of
Hisker,[301] and Captain Donald Roy Macdonald.[302] The estates of Sir
Alexander, therefore, remained uninjured, and his family continued to
enjoy them.

The chief sufferers from the visit of Prince Charles to their house were
Macdonald of Kingsburgh and his wife.

Upon hearing of the Prince's escape, Captain Fergusson went first to
Mugstat; where gaining no intelligence, he proceeded to Kingsburgh. He
there examined every person with the utmost exactness, and inquired into
every particular of the accommodation afforded to one whom he styled
"the Pretender." "Whom you mean by _the Pretender_, I do not pretend to
guess!" was the reply of Mrs. Macdonald of Kingsburgh.

Kingsburgh was made prisoner, and was sent to Fort Augustus on parole
without any guard, by General Campbell's order. But the clemency shown
by Campbell ceased when Kingsburgh reached Fort Augustus. He was thrown
into a dungeon, was plundered of everything, and loaded with irons. Sir
Everard Faulkner, who was employed to examine him, reminded him how fine
an opportunity he had lost of "making himself and his family for ever."
"Had I gold and silver piled heap upon heap to the bulk of yon huge
mountain," was the noble reply, "that mass could not afford me half the
satisfaction I find in my own breast from doing what I have done!"
Whilst he was confined at Fort Augustus, an officer of distinction came
to him, and asked him if he should know the Prince's head if he saw it.
"I should know the head very well if it were on the shoulders," was the
answer. "But if it were not on the shoulders?" said the officer. "In
that case I will not pretend to know anything about it," returned
Kingsburgh. His discrimination was not put to the test.

Kingsburgh was removed to Edinburgh castle under a strong guard of
Kingston's Light-horse. He was at first put into a room with several
other gentlemen, but was afterwards removed into solitary confinement,
and not allowed to speak to any one, except to the officer on guard, and
the keeper, who acted as his servant. In this place he remained for a
year, when by the act of grace he was set at liberty on the fourth of
July 1747; "having thus," as an author has observed, "got a whole year's
safe lodging for affording that of one night!"[303]

Before her farewell to her friends in Armadale, Flora Macdonald had
exchanged the vessel which Captain Fergusson commanded, for one
commanded by Commodore Smith, a gentleman capable of estimating her
character. At Armadale, she procured a change of clothes, and took as
her personal attendant an honest girl, named Kate Macdonald, who could
speak nothing but Gaelic. This girl offered herself as a servant,
finding that Flora could get no one else to attend her in her calamity.

Among her companions in trouble, she found, on returning to the ship,
Captain O'Neil, who had persuaded her to undertake the enterprise which
had produced her present imprisonment. This gentleman had also, when he
urged her good offices, proffered his hand in marriage, in order that
her reputation might not suffer by her adventure by "flood and field."
When Flora saw him on board the vessel, she went up to him, and slapping
him on the cheek, said, "To that black face I owe all my misfortune!"
O'Neil however answered, "that, instead of being her misfortune, it was
her highest honour, and it would yet redound more to her credit, if she
did not pretend to be ashamed of what she had done."[304] She was
confined for a short time in Dunstaffnage castle. This now ruinous
fortress, once a royal residence, is situated near the mouth of Loch
Etive, a short distance from Oban, in Argyleshire; it stands upon a
rocky promontory which juts out into the lake, which is one of the most
secluded and solemn scenes that nature, in all the grandeur of those
regions, presents.[305] Near the castle is a convenient building, which
is now, as probably it was in 1745, inhabited by the factors of the Duke
of Argyle, who is the hereditary keeper of Dunstaffnage castle, under
the Crown. It was probably in this house that Flora was lodged. The
castle is on three of its sides little else than a shell; but the fourth
is in tolerable repair. The entrance to this sequestered and solemn
abode is from the sea, by a staircase; probably in old times a
drawbridge, which fell from a staircase. The ancient grandeur of
Dunstaffnage, long used as one of the earliest residences of the
Scottish kings; famed also as the place from which the stone of
Dunstaffnage, sometimes called the Stone of Scone, on which they were
crowned, was brought; had long passed away before Flora tenanted its
chambers. But the associations which it presented were not likely to dim
the ardour of her loyalty to the last of that race who had once held
their sway over the proud castle of Dunstaffnage; nor would the roofless
chapel, of exquisite architectural beauty, near Dunstaffnage, where many
of the Scottish kings repose, be an object devoid of deep and mournful
interest to one who had lately beheld a singular instance of the
mutability of all human grandeur. Two letters, which show the mode of
Flora Macdonald's introduction to the keeper of the castle, Neil
Campbell, have been preserved.[306] One of them is as follows:

                                         "Horse-Shoe Bay, Aug. 1746.

    "Dear Sir,

    "I must desire the favour of you to forward my letters by an express
    to Inverary; and, if any are left with you, let them be sent by the
    bearer. I shall stay here with Commodore Smith till Sunday morning.
    If you can't come, I beg to know if you have any men now in garrison
    at your house, and how many? Make my compliments to your lady, and
    tell her I am obliged to desire the favour of her for some days to
    receive a very pretty young rebel. Her zeal, and the persuasion of
    those who ought to have given her better advice, has drawn her into
    a most unhappy scrape by assisting the young Pretender to make his
    escape. I need say nothing further till we meet; only assure you
    that I am, dear sir, your sincere friend and humble servant,

                                                    "JOHN CAMPBELL."

    "I suppose you have heard of Miss Flora Macdonald."

Early in September the ship arrived in Leith Roads, and remained there
until November. By this time the fame of this obscure Highland girl had
reached the well-wishers to Prince Charles in Edinburgh, and many
crowded to see her. Among these was the Rev. Robert Forbes, who happened
at that time to be Episcopal minister of the port. At this period the
Episcopal Church of Scotland consisted of a few scattered congregations,
under the spiritual guidance of a reduced number of titular bishops. The
Church was, however, deeply attached to the Stuarts; and the pious and
enthusiastic man who now visited Flora in her adversity, was among the
most zealous of the adherents to that ill-fated cause. He had himself
known calamity, having been apprehended at St. Ninian's in the preceding
year, 1745, and imprisoned until the following May. This circumstance,
which had prevented him from taking any active part in the commotions,
preserved Mr. Forbes in safety; and his exertions, which were directed
to the purpose of collecting, from such of the insurgents as fell in his
way, narratives of their several parts in the events of 1745, have been
very effective. Through his efforts a valuable collection of authentic
memoirs, from which extracts have been published within these last few
years, have added a new light, and consequently a new charm, to the
narrative of Prince Charles's adventures, and to the biography of his
followers.

Mr. Forbes, at the time when he visited Flora, was residing in the house
of Lady Bruce of Kinross, within the walls of Cromwell's citadel at
Leith. It was one part of Mr. Forbes's plan, in the pursuit of which he
contemplated forming an accurate history of the whole insurrection, to
visit the State prisoners as they were either carried to London, or
passed on their return to the Highlands. Most of his collection was
therefore formed at the close of the last campaign, when the
recollections of the unfortunate actors in the affair were vivid and
accurate. Among other minor occupations was the acquisition of relics of
Charles Edward, whom the worthy divine almost idolized. "Perhaps," says
Mr. Chambers,[307] "the most curious and characteristic part of the
work is a series of relics which are found attached to the inside of the
boards of certain volumes. In one I find a slip of thick blue silk
cloth, of a texture like sarcenet, beneath which is written, 'The above
is a piece of the Prince's garter.' Below this is a small square piece
of printed linen, the figures being in lilac on a white ground, with the
following inscription: 'The above is a piece of the identical gown which
the Prince wore for five or six days, when he was obliged to disguise
himself in a female dress, under the name of Betty Burke. A _swatch_ of
the said gown was sent from Mrs. Macdonald of Kingsburgh,' Then follows
a slip of tape, with the following note: 'The following is a piece of
that identical apron-string which the Prince wore about him when in a
female dress. The above bit I received out of Miss Flora Macdonald's own
hands, upon Thursday, November 5, 1747.'"

In 1762, this reverend enthusiast was chosen by the presbyteries of
Caithness and Orkney as their bishop, and was consecrated at Cupar in
Fife in the same year. He was the last bishop whose charge was limited
only to those two districts.

Mr. Forbes was accompanied in his visits to Flora Macdonald, while at
Leith, by Lady Bruce, Lady Mary Cochrane, Mrs. Clerk, and many other
ladies; who made valuable presents of clothes to the heroine, and who
listened to her narrative, as she delivered it to Mr. Forbes, with many
expressions of sympathy and applause. When she related that part of her
voyage from Uist in which the Prince watched over her whilst asleep,
some of these fair Jacobites cried out, "O, madam! what a happy
creature you are, to have that dear Prince to watch over you in your
sleep." "I could," cried Mrs. Mary Clerk, "wipe your shoes with
pleasure, and think it my honour to do so, when I reflect that you had
the Prince for your handmaid!" Perhaps not the worst gift sent to Flora,
during her stay at Leith, was a thimble and needles, with white thread
of different sorts, from Lady Bruce. This act of friendship Flora felt
as much as any that she received, for she had suffered as much from the
state of idleness during her being in custody, as from any other
privation.[308]

Her time thus passed away almost cheerfully. Her gentle, prudent, and
placid deportment won upon the esteem of those who were least friendly
to her opinions. The officers who were appointed to guard her, although
they could not permit her to set her foot on shore, were pleased at the
attention which she received from visitors. Commodore Smith behaved to
her with fatherly regard. Whilst she was in Leith Roads, in the Eltham,
he presented her with a handsome riding-suit, in plain mounting, and
some fine linen for riding-shirts. He gave her advice how to act in her
difficult and perilous situation, and even allowed the officers to go
ashore to seek for good company for their prisoner; although persons who
merely came from curiosity were denied access. Captain Knowles of the
Bridgewater, also in the Leith Roads, was most courteous and considerate
to the amiable prisoner. When her friends visited her, she was allowed
to ask for such refreshments for them as she thought proper; as if she
had been at her own fireside. Easy, modest, and winning, in the midst
of all her anxiety for her friends, and in the uncertainty of her own
fate, she was cheerful; yet a subdued and modest gravity gave an
interest to her unpretending character. When solicited to join in the
amusement of dancing, she refused, alleging that her "dancing-days were
over; and that, at all events, she could not dance until she should be
assured of the Prince's safety, and until she had the happiness of
seeing him again."

At length, carrying with her the good wishes of all who had conversed
with her, Flora left the harbour of Leith. After being conveyed from
place to place, she was put on board the Royal Sovereign on the
twenty-seventh of November, the vessel then lying at the Nore, and
conveyed to London. Here she was kept a prisoner under circumstances of
great mitigation, for she was lodged in a private house. In this
situation she continued for a year; when the Act of indemnity, passed in
1747, set her at liberty. She was then discharged, without a single
question being addressed to her on the subject of her conduct. After
being released,--at the instigation, according to a tradition in her
family, of Frederic Prince of Wales,--she was domesticated in the family
of the Dowager Lady Primrose, an ardent Jacobite, who afterwards, in
1750, was courageous enough to receive the young Chevalier during a
visit of five days, which were employed by Charles in the vain endeavour
to form another scheme of invasion. The abode of Lady Primrose was the
resort of the fashionable world; and crowds of the higher classes
hastened to pay their tribute to the heroine of the day. It may be
readily conjectured, how singular an impression the quiet, simple
manners of Flora must have made upon the excited minds of those who
looked, perhaps, for high pretensions,--for the presence of an amazon,
and the expressions of an heroine of romance. The compliments which were
offered to Flora, excited in her mind nothing but the most unequivocal
surprise that so simple an act should produce so extraordinary a
sensation. She is stated to have been presented to Frederic Prince of
Wales, and to have received from him the highest compliment to her
fidelity and heroism. When, in explanation of her conduct, Flora
Macdonald said that she would perform the same act of humanity to any
person who might be similarly situated, the Prince remarked, "You would,
I hope, madam, do the same, were the same event to happen over again."
The grace and courtesy of this speech may partly be attributed to the
amiable traits which profligate habits had not wholly obliterated in the
Prince; partly to his avowed opposition to his royal father, and the bad
terms on which he stood with his brother. It must still be acknowledged,
that Frederic displayed no ordinary degree of good-feeling in this
interview with Flora. His son George the Third, and his grandson George
the Fourth, both did credit to themselves by sentiments equally generous
towards their ill-fated and royal kinsman.

After this intoxicating scene, presenting in their most brilliant
colours, to the eye of one who had never visited either Edinburgh or
London, the fascinations of the higher classes of society, Flora
returned to Skye. She left the metropolis unchanged in her early
affections, unaltered in the simplicity of her manners. The country,
presenting so lately the miserable spectacle of civil war, was now
calmed into a mournful tranquillity, as she passed through it on her
journey to Skye; but in the Highlands, and more especially in the
Western Isles, the love and loyalty which had of old been devoted to the
Stuarts were unaltered. It was, indeed, long before they were
obliterated; and, for years after the fatal 1745, the name of Charles
Edward was uttered with tears. Nor is this sentiment of respect even now
extinct; nor will it, perhaps, ever be wholly annihilated.

The journey from London to Skye was performed by Flora in a postchaise,
and her expenses were defrayed by Lady Primrose. Her companion was, by
her own choice, Malcolm Macleod of Raasay, who had met the Prince at
Portree, and had completed the work begun by Flora. He too had been
imprisoned, but had regained his liberty. "So," afterwards Malcolm
related to his friends, with a triumphant air, "I went to London to be
hanged, and returned in a postchaise with Miss Flora Macdonald!" They
visited Dr. Burton, another released prisoner, at York. Here Malcolm was
asked by that gentleman what was his opinion of Prince Charles. "He is
the most cautious man not to be a coward, and the bravest not to be
rash, that I ever saw," was the reply.

In 1750, Flora Macdonald was married to her cousin Alexander Macdonald
the younger of Kingsburgh, who appears to have been worthy of his
distinguished wife. In person, young Kingsburgh had completely the
figure of a gallant Highlander, the graceful mien and manly looks which
a certain popular Scots' song has attributed to that character. "When
receiving Dr. Johnson in after-years, Kingsburgh appeared in true
Highland costume, with his plaid thrown about him, a large blue bonnet
with a knot of black ribbon like a cockade, a brown short coat of a kind
of duffil, a tartan waistcoat with gold buttons and gold button-holes, a
bluish philibeg, and tartan hose. He had jet hair tied behind; and was a
large stately man, with a steady sensible countenance."[309] Such was
the man to whom, after a short eventful period of peril and vicissitude,
it was the lot of Flora Macdonald to be united. Kingsburgh is also
declared by Boswell to have had one virtue of his country in
perfection--that of hospitality; and, in this, to have far surpassed the
son of Lady Margaret Macdonald, Sir Alexander Macdonald of Armadale, an
English-bred chieftain, at whose house Dr. Johnson and his friend "had
small company, and could not boast of their cheer." That gentleman, "an
Eton-bred scholar," had few sympathies with the poor tenants by whom he
was surrounded. So true is Dr. Johnson's remark, "that the Highland
chiefs should not be allowed to go farther south than Aberdeen."

In her union with young Kingsburgh Flora enjoyed a source of
satisfaction not to be estimated lightly. She became the daughter-in-law
of a man whose virtues were remembered with the deepest respect in
Skye.[310] When in 1773 Dr. Johnson and Boswell visited the island, they
found Flora and her husband living in apparent prosperity in the
dwelling wherein Charles Edward had been so hospitably entertained.
Kingsburgh the younger, as the head of the house, received the Doctor at
his door, and with respectful attention supported him into the house. A
comfortable parlour with a good fire was appropriated to the guests, and
the "dram" went round. Presently supper was served, and then Flora made
her appearance. "To see Dr. Samuel Johnson, the great champion of the
English Tories, salute Miss Flora Macdonald in the isle of Skye, was,"
as Boswell observes, "a striking sight." In their notions Flora and the
Doctor were in many respects congenial; and Dr. Johnson not only had
imbibed a high opinion of Flora, but found that opinion confirmed on
acquaintance.

Conversation flowed freely. Flora told him that during a recent visit to
the main land she had heard that Mr. Boswell was coming to Skye; and
that Mr. Johnson, a young English "_buck_," was coming with him. Dr.
Johnson was highly entertained with this fancy. He retired however early
to rest, and reposed on the very bed on which Charles Edward had slept
so long and so soundly on his way from Mugstat to Portree. The room was
decorated with a great variety of maps and prints; among others was
Hogarth's head of Wilkes grinning, with the cap of Liberty on a pole by
him. Boswell appears, as far as we can guess from his expressions, to
have shared the apartment. "To see Dr. Samuel Johnson," remarks Boswell,
"lying on that bed in the isle of Skye, in the house of Miss Flora
Macdonald, again struck me with such a group of ideas as it is not easy
for words to express." Upon Boswell giving vent to this burst of
rapture, Dr. Johnson smiled and said, "I have had no ambitious thoughts
in it." He afterwards remarked that he would have given a great deal
rather than not have lain in that bed.[311]

On quitting the house, Dr. Johnson and his friend were rowed by
Kingsburgh, across one of the lochs which flow in upon all the coasts of
Skye, to a place called Grishinish; and here the Highland host bade his
guests adieu. All seemed smiling and prosperous; but even at this time
Kingsburgh was embarrassed in his affairs, and contemplated going to
America.

That scheme was eventually accomplished. During the passion for
emigration which prevailed in the Highlands, Kingsburgh removed to North
Carolina, where he purchased an estate. Scarcely had he settled upon his
property before the American war broke out. Like most of the Jacobites
who were in America at that time, he sided with the British Government.
He even took up arms in the cause, and became captain of a regiment
called the North Carolina Highlanders. Many singular adventures occurred
both to him and to Flora in the course of the contest. At length they
returned to Skye, but not together; she sailed first. In the voyage
home, her ship encountered a French ship of war. An action ensued.
Whilst the ladies among the passengers were below, Flora stayed on deck,
and encouraged the sailors with her voice and manner. She was thrown
down in the confusion, and broke her arm. With her wonted vivacity she
afterwards observed, that she had risked her life both for the House of
Stuart and for that of Brunswick, but had got very little for her
pains. Her husband remained in America for some time after she returned
to Scotland, but joined her at last.

Flora had a numerous family of sons and daughters. Charles, her eldest
son, was a captain in the Queen's Rangers. He was worthy of bearing his
mother's name. As his kinsman, the late Lord Macdonald, saw his remains
lowered into the grave, he remarked, "There lies the most finished
gentleman of my family and name!" Alexander, the second son, also in the
King's service, was lost at sea. Ranald, the third, was a captain of
Marines. He was remarkable for his elegant person, and estimable for his
high professional reputation. James, the fourth son, served in Tarlton's
British Legion, and was a brave officer. The late Lieutenant-Colonel
John Macdonald, in Exeter, long survived his brothers. This officer was
introduced to King George the Fourth, who observed, on his presentation,
to those around him, "This gentleman is the son of a lady to whom my
family (thus designating the Stuarts) owe a great obligation." Of two
daughters, one, Mrs. Macleod of Lochbuy, died not many years ago.

The following letters refer to the family who have been thus
enumerated.[312]


FROM MRS. MACDONALD TO MRS. MACKENZIE OF DELVIN, BY DUNKELL.

                                 "Dunvegan, twenty-fourth July, 1780

    "Dear Madam,

    "I arrived at Inverness the third day after parting with you, in
    good health and without any accidents, which I always dread; my
    young 'squire continued always very obliging and attentive to me. I
    stayed at Inverness for three days. I had the good-luck to meet with
    a female companion from that to Skye. I was the fourth day, with
    great difficulty, at Raasay, for my hands being so pained with the
    riding.

    "I arrived here a few days ago with my young daughter, who promises
    to be a stout Highland dairg, quite overgrown of her age. Nanny and
    her small family are well: her husband was not sailed the last
    accounts she had from him.

    "I have the pleasure to inform you, upon my arrival here, that I had
    two letters from my husband; the latter dated tenth May. He was then
    in very good health, and informs me that my son Charles has got the
    command of a troop of horse in Lord Cathcart's regiment. But alas! I
    have heard nothing since I left you about my son Sandy,[313] which
    you may be sure gives me great uneasiness; but still hope for the
    best.

    "By public and private news, I hope we will soon have peace
    re-established, to our great satisfaction: which, as it's a thing
    long expected and wished for, will be for the utility of the whole
    nation; especially to poor me, that has my all engaged,--fond to
    hear news, and yet afraid to get it.

    "I wait here till a favourable opportunity for the Long Island shall
    offer itself.--As I am upon all occasions under the greatest
    obligations to you, would you get a letter from my son Johny sooner
    than I would get one from him, you would very much oblige me by
    dropping me a few lines communicating to me the most material part
    of his letter.

    "I hope you and the ladies of your family will always accept of my
    kindest respects; and I ever am, with esteem, dear madam, your
    affectionate, humble servant,

                                                   "FLORA MACDONALD.

    "Please direct to me, to Mrs. Macdonald, late of Kingsborrow, South
    Uist, by Dunvegan."

Two years, it seems, elapsed, and the summer of 1782 arrived, and the
fate of Alexander Macdonald was still unknown; yet the mother's heart
still clung to hope, as it proved by the following letter. No murmurs
escape from one who seems to have sustained unrepiningly the sorrows
which reach the heart most truly; the wreck of fortune, not for
ourselves, but for our children, and the terrors of suspense. One source
of consolation she possessed: her surviving sons were brave, honourable,
and respected. But "Sandy" never returned.


MRS. MACKENZIE OF DELVINE, BY DUNKELL.

                                       "Milton, third of July, 1782.

    "Dear Madam,

    "I received your agreeable favour a fortnight ago, and am happy to
    find that your health is not worse than when I left you. I return
    you my sincere thanks for your being so mindful of me as to send me
    the agreeable news about Johny's arrival, which relieved me from a
    great deal of distress, as that was the first accounts I had of him
    since he sailed. I think, poor man! he has been very lucky, for
    getting into bread so soon after landing. I had a letter from John,
    which, I suppose, came by the same conveyance with yours. I am told
    by others that it will be in his power now to show his talents, as
    being in the engineer department. He speaks feelingly of the
    advantages he got in his youth, and the good example showed him,
    which I hope will keep him from doing anything that is either sinful
    or shameful.[314]

    "I received a letter from Captain Macdonald, my husband, dated from
    Halifax, the twelfth of November '82; he was then recovering his
    health, but had been very tender for some time before. My son
    Charles is captain in the British Legion, and James a lieutenant in
    the same: they are both in New York. Ranald is captain of Marines,
    and was with Rodney at the taking of St. Eustatia. As for my son
    Sandy, who was a-missing, I had accounts of his being carried to
    Lisbon, but nothing certain, which I look upon the whole as a
    hearsay; but the kindness of Providence is still to be looked upon,
    as I have no reason to complain, as God has been pleased to spare
    his father and the rest. I am now at my brother's house, on my way
    to Skye, to attend my daughter, who is to lie-in in August; they are
    all in health at present. As for my health at present, it's
    tolerable, considering my anxious mind and distress of times.

    "It gives me a great deal of pleasure to hear such good accounts of
    young Mr. M'Kinnie:[315] no doubt he has a great debt to pay, who
    represents his worthy and amiable uncle. I hope you will be so good
    as remember me to your female companions. I do not despair of the
    pleasure of seeing you once more, if peace was restored; and I am,
    dear madam, with respect and esteem, your affectionate friend,

                                                  "FLORA MACDONALD."

Flora died in 1790, having attained the age of seventy. Her corpse was
interred, wrapt in the sheet on which Charles Edward had lain at
Kingsburgh, and which she had carried with her to America, intending
that, wherever she should be entombed, it should serve as her
winding-sheet.

The life and character of Flora Macdonald exemplify how true it is,
that, in the performance of daily duties, and in domestic life, the
loftiest qualities of woman may be formed; for the hourly practice of
self-controul, the exercise of judgment, the acquisition of fortitude,
tend to the perfection of those virtues which ennobled her career. In
all her trials she acted a woman's part. Her spirit was fortified by a
strength that was ever gentle. She was raised by circumstances above a
private sphere; when these ceased to actuate her, she returned
cheerfully to what many might deem obscurity, but which she gladdened by
a kind and cheerful temper. No vain-glory, no egotism, vulgarized her
one great effort. The simplicity of her character was inherent and
unextinguishable; and the deep interest which was attached to her
character was never lessened by any display. Her enthusiasm for the
Stuart cause ceased only with her life. When any person thoughtlessly,
or cruelly, applied the term "Pretender" to the Prince whom she
reverenced, her anger for a moment was aroused. But contention ill
accorded with the truly feminine, yet noble and well-principled, mind of
Flora Macdonald. Upon the error or truth of that belief in hereditary
and indefeasible right which she entertained, it is of little moment, in
estimating her virtues, to pass an opinion. Perhaps we may venture to
conclude with Dr. Johnson, "that being in rebellion, from a notion of
another's right, is not connected with depravity; and that we had this
proof of it, that all mankind applaud the pardoning of rebels, which
they would not do in the case of murderers and robbers."

FOOTNOTES:

[274] General Stewart's Sketches of the Highlanders, vol. ii. p. 5. App.

[275] See General Stewart's Sketches.

[276] Chambers. Note, p. 106.

[277] Lockhart's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 540.

[278] Stewart, vol. i. p. 105.

[279] Brown's Highlands, p. 284.

[280] Donald Macleod's Narrative, in Bishop Forbes's collection.

[281] Home, App. p. 45.

[282] O'Neil's Narrative.

[283] Brown's History of the Highlands, p. 285, note, vol. iii.

[284] Maxwell of Kirkconnel, p. 178.

[285] Chambers' Traditions of Edinburgh, p. 255.

[286] Eglintoune House was situated on the west side of the old
Stamp-office Close, High Street. It is now occupied by a
vintner.--Chambers' Traditions, p. 256.

[287] Boswell, p. 320.

[288] A Genuine Account of the Prince's escape.--Scots' Magazine for
1749.

[289] Captain Roy Macdonald's Narrative. Forbes, p. 419.

[290] Chambers. Edit. for the People, p. 101.

[291] Note in Scots' Magazine for 1749; from a MS. by Colonel
Macalister.

[292] Donald Macleod's Narrative. Forbes, p. 391.

[293] Boswell's Journey to the Hebrides, p. 207.

[294] Chambers, p. 102, and note.

[295] It was, (be it known, for the gratification of those curious in
such matters,) "sprigged with blue."

[296] Jacobite Memoirs, p. 448.

[297] Forbes, p. 449.

[298] Forbes, p. 413.

[299] Curious Tracts in the British Museum, vol. iv. Scotland.

[300] Jacobite Memoirs, p. 447.

[301] A small isle about eight miles to the westward of South Uist.

[302] Forbes. Narrative of Captain Donald Macdonald.

[303] Scots' Magazine for 1749.

[304] Note in Chambers' Memoirs of the Rebellion.

[305] Preface to the Jacobite Memoirs by Mr. Robert Chambers, to whom
the public owe so much on this and other subjects.

[306] Brown's Hist. of the Highlands, vol. iii. p. 309.

[307] Preface to Jacobite Memoirs, xi.

[308] Chambers, p. 106. Taken from the Lyon in Mourning, MSS.

[309] Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides.

[310] Dr. Johnson's Tour to the Hebrides, p. 319.

[311] Dr. Johnson's Tour to the Hebrides, p. 217.

[312] From the Collection of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq. They were
printed, on the occasion of the Queen's visit to Scotland, in the
Edinburgh Advertiser for 1844.

[313] So named, in compliment to Sir Alexander Macdonald of Slate, or
rather to his wife, Lady Margaret, the friend of Flora Macdonald.

[314] This alludes to the attention paid him when young, and under the
care of Mr. Mackenzie, by that gentleman and his family.

[315] The late Sir Alexander Muir Mackenzie of Delvine, Bart.




WILLIAM BOYD, EARL OF KILMARNOCK.


The unfortunate nobleman who is the subject of this Memoir, could boast
of as long line of ancestors as most families in Europe. Among his
forefathers were men eminent for loyalty, and distinguished for bravery,
and of honour as untainted as their blood; but when William, fourth Earl
of Kilmarnock, succeeded to his title, there was little except this high
ancestry to elate him with pride, or to raise him above dependence upon
circumstances.

The Earl of Kilmarnock derived his title from a royal borough of the
same name, in the shire of Cunningham in Ayrshire; and, in former times
when the chieftainship was in repute in that part of Scotland, that
branch of the family of Boyd, or Boyde, from whom the Earl was
descended, claimed to be chiefs.

The greatness of the Boyd family commenced with Simon, the brother of
Walter, first High Steward of Scotland, and founder of the Monastery of
Paisley, in 1160. Robert, the son of Simon, is designated in the
foundation church of that monastery, as nephew of Walter, High Steward;
and is distinguished on account of his fair complexion, by the word
Boyt, or Boyd,[316] from the Celtic Boidh, signifying fair, or yellow.
"He was," says Nisbet, "doubtless, predecessor to the Lords Boyd, and
Earls of Kilmarnock."[317]

The family of Boyd continued to flourish until, in the fifteenth
century, it was ennobled by James the Third, who owed to one of its
members, Sir Alexander Boyd of Duncow, esteemed to be a mirror of
chivalry, an inculcation into the military exercises, which were deemed,
in those days, essential to the education of royalty. But the sunshine
of kingly favour was not enjoyed by the Boyds without some alloy. Robert
Boyd of Kilmarnock, who was raised to the peerage, under the title of
Lord Boyd, and whose eldest son was created Earl of Arran, experienced
various vicissitudes. He died in England, in exile; and his brother, Sir
Alexander, perished in 1469, on a scaffold, erected on the Castle Hill
of Edinburgh. The fortunes of the family were, however, restored in the
person of Thomas, Earl of Arran, who married the eldest sister of King
James the Third. The beautiful island of Arran was given as the dower of
this lady: and her husband, who is said in the Paston Letters to have
been a "light, clever, and well-spoken, fair archer; devoutest, most
perfect, and truest to his lady, of Knights," enjoyed a short gleam of
royal favour. His vicissitudes, however, befel him whilst on an embassy
in Denmark, his enemies undermined him at home: he was driven to wander
in foreign countries, and died at Antwerp, where a magnificent monument
was erected to his memory, by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy. His
title was attainted, but his property was restored to his son; and in
1655, the title of Earl of Kilmarnock was added to that of Lord Boyd,
which alone seems to have been retained by the family during the
intervening generations.

During the reign of Charles the First, his descendants were considered
to be steady Royalists; but, notwithstanding their claiming descent from
the Stuarts, the views and principles of the family in the troublous
period of the Revolution of 1688, underwent a total change. William, the
third Earl of Kilmarnock, and the father of the unhappy adherent of
Charles Edward, took the oaths of allegiance to the reigning family, and
supported the Treaty of Union; joining at first the party entitled the
_Squâdrone volante_; but eventually deserting them for the Whigs. When
the Insurrection of 1715 broke out, this nobleman plainly manifested
that the notions which had actuated his ancestor to join the association
at Cumberland in favour of Charles the First, were no longer deemed
valid by him. The superiority of the Burgh of Kilmarnock having been
granted in 1672 to his ancestors, the Earl summoned the inhabitants of
the Burgh to assemble, and to arm themselves in support of Government.
At the general meeting of the fencible corps at Cunningham, Lord
Kilmarnock appeared, followed by five hundred of his men, well armed,
and so admirably trained, that they made the best figure on that
occasion among the forces collected.[318] In compliance with orders
which he received from the Duke of Argyll, Lord Kilmarnock marched with
his volunteers to garrison the houses of Drummakil, Cardross, and
Gastartan, in order to prevent the rebels from crossing the Forth.
Unhappily for the fortunes of his family, the Earl died two years
afterwards: and in the year 1717, his son, then a boy of fourteen years
of age, succeeded to his title.

The mother of the young nobleman still survived: she was the Lady
Eupheme, daughter of William, eleventh Earl of Ross; and one child only,
the Earl of Kilmarnock, had been the issue of her marriage.

The youth, whose fate afterwards extorted pity from the most prejudiced
spectators of his fate, was educated in the principles of the Scottish
Church. These, as the chaplain who attended Lord Kilmarnock in the last
days of his existence observes, are far from "having the least tendency
to sedition," and a very different bias was apparent in the conduct of
the Presbyterian ministers during the whole course of the insurrections
of 1745. The young nobleman appears to have imbibed, with this
persuasion, a sincere conviction of those incontrovertible, and
all-important truths of Christianity which, happily, the contentions of
sect cannot nullify, nor the passions of mankind assail. "He always
believed," such is his own declaration, "in the great truths of God's
Being and Providence, and in a future state of rewards and punishments
for virtue and vice." He had never, he declared at that solemn moment
when nothing appeared to him of consequence save truth, "been involved
in the fashionable scepticism of the times." As he grew up, a character
more amiable than energetic, and dispositions more calculated to inspire
love than to insure respect, manifested themselves in the young
nobleman. He was singularly handsome, being tall and slender, and
possessing what was termed by an eyewitness of his trial, "an extreme
fine person;" he was mild, and well-bred, humble, and conscientious. It
is true, that in his hours of penitence he recalled, with anguish, "a
careless and dissolute life," by which, as he affirmed, he reduced
himself to great and perplexing difficulties; he repented for his "love
of vanity and addictedness to impurity and sensual pleasure," which had
"brought pollution and guilt upon his soul, and debased his reason, and,
for a time, suspended the exercise of his social affections, which were,
by nature, strong in him, and, in particular, the love of his country."
Such was his own account of that youth, which, deprived of the guidance
of a father, with high rank and great personal attractions to endanger
it, was passed, according to his own confession, in dissipation and
folly. It appears, nevertheless, that he was greatly respected by his
neighbours and tenantry, who were not, perhaps, disposed to judge very
severely the errors of a young and popular man.

When only eleven years of age, Lord Kilmarnock, then Lord Boyd, had
appeared in arms for Government with his father; on which occasion he
conducted himself so gracefully as to attract the admiration of all
beholders.[319] His early prepossessions, granting that they may have
accorded with those of his father, were, however, soon dissipated when
he allied himself with a family who had been conspicuous in the Jacobite
cause. This was the house of Livingstone, Earl of Linlithgow and
Calendar; George, the fourth Earl, having, in 1715, been engaged in the
insurrection under Lord Mar, had been attainted, and his estate of one
thousand two hundred and ninety-six pounds yearly forfeited to the
Crown. Nor has this forfeiture ever been reversed; and the present
representative of the family, Sir Thomas Livingstone, of Westquarter and
Bedlormie, remains, notwithstanding an appeal in 1784 before Lord
Kenyon, then Attorney-General, a commoner.[320]

Lady Anne Livingstone, who was the object of the young Lord Kilmarnock's
choice, is reported to have been a woman of great beauty, and, from her
exertions in her husband's behalf, appears to have possessed a fine,
determined spirit. Although her father's title was not restored, she had
sufficient interest, in 1721, to obtain from the English Government a
lease of the forfeited estates for fifty-nine years, at the rent of
eight hundred and seventy-two pounds, twelve shillings per annum.[321]
This was, no doubt, a source of considerable pecuniary benefit to her,
and also of assistance, very greatly required by Lord Kilmarnock, who
was in impoverished circumstances. Honours, indeed, centered in him, but
were productive of no real benefit. By the grandmother of his wife, the
Lady Margaret Hay, sole surviving daughter of Charles the twelfth Earl
of Errol, he had a claim to that Earldom, which, coupling with its
dignity that of the hereditary High Constable of Scotland, descended in
the female line, and after the death of a brother in infancy,
constituted the Lady Anne Livingstone a Countess of Errol in her own
right. Thus, Lord Kilmarnock had, to borrow Horace Walpole's expression,
"four earldoms in him," Kilmarnock, Errol, Linlithgow, and Calendar; and
yet he is said to have been so poor, as "often to have wanted a dinner."
But to this mode of expression we must not entirely trust for accuracy.
With the inheritance of the Earldoms of Errol, and of Linlithgow, and
Calendar, there came a stock of old Jacobite principles; Lord Linlithgow
had, indeed, suffered what was perhaps worse than death for his
adherence to James Stuart. The Earl of Errol, the grandfather of Lady
Kilmarnock, had led a more prudent course. Still he was a hearty
Jacobite, and though, as Lockhart declares, he did not at first make a
"great outward appearance," yet he was much trusted by the party; his
family had always been favourable to the Stuarts, and he was, also,
generally considered to cherish similar sentiments.[322] He had,
nevertheless, taken the oaths to Government in 1705; yet on the alarm of
an invasion in 1708, he was deemed so dangerous a person that he was
sent as a prisoner to Edinburgh Castle, where he died.

The love suit of Lord Kilmarnock was not likely, under his impoverished
circumstances, to prosper uninterruptedly. When he succeeded to his
estate he had found it much encumbered, and a considerable portion of
the old inheritance alienated. Lord Kilmarnock's disposition was not
formed for economy; he was generous even to profusion, and, as we have
seen had not escaped the temptations incident to his age. His addresses
to the Lady Anne Livingstone are said to have been prompted by his
necessities; her fortune was deemed considerable; and her family, well
knowing the state of the Earl's affairs, regarded his proposals of
marriage unfavourably. But the young nobleman during the course of his
courtship, and in opposing these objections, formed an interest in the
heart of the young lady. He was, indeed, a man born to charm the
imagination of the romantic, if not at that period of his youth, to
rivet affection by esteem. In his boyhood, although he made some degree
of progress in classical attainments, and even in philosophy and
mathematics, thus proving that natural ability was not wanting, he was
far more successful in attaining mere accomplishments, which add a
powerful charm to comeliness and symmetry than in mastering more solid
studies. He became an adept in fencing, in riding, in drawing, and also
in music; and acquired the distinctive and comprehensive designation, of
being "a polite gentleman."[323]

Disgusted with the cold discussions on settlements and rent rolls, and
disregarding maternal cautions, Lady Anne soon followed the dictates of
her own heart. She married the young and handsome nobleman without her
mother's consent, and a tardy sanction to the union was wrung from Lady
Livingstone only when it was too late to withhold her approval.

The marriage was not, it was said by those who were disposed to
scandalize the Earl of Kilmarnock, productive of happiness. The young
Countess was possessed, indeed, of beauty, wit, and good sense: but her
husband, if we may accredit the memoirs of his life, gave her much cause
to complain of his conduct. They lived, however, as the same doubtful
authority states, "if not happily, at least civilly together." Such is
the statement of a contemporary writer; it must, however, be adopted
with just as much allowance as we give to similar reports raised by
party writers in the present day: and it will be shown[324] not to
accord with the dying declarations of Lord Kilmarnock. "I leave behind,"
he wrote to his agent, "in Lady Kilmarnock, what is dearest to me."[325]
Subsequently to his marriage, Lord Kilmarnock's necessities and the
additional burden of a family induced him to apply to the English
Government for a pension, founded, as it is probable, on his father's
services to Government in 1715. But this statement, and the conditions
upon which the bounty was given are left in obscurity. "Whether," says
the anonymous biographer of Lord Kilmarnock, "my Lord Kilmarnock's
pension was a ministerial bribe, or a royal bounty, is a question I
cannot determine with any certainty; but I have reason to suspect the
former, since few pensions, granted by a certain administration, that of
Sir Robert Walpole, deserved the latter." The same writer truly
observes, that little or no dependance is to be placed on that loyalty
which wants the support of bribes and pensions. "The practice," he adds,
"is too general, and a defection of this kind of men may be fatal to
the state."[326] The pension, as it appears from Horace Walpole's
letters, was taken from Lord Kilmarnock by Lord Wilmington. "Lord
Kilmarnock," he writes to Sir Horace Mann, "is a Presbyterian, with four
earldoms in view, but so poor since Lord Wilmington's stopping a pension
that my father had given him, that he often wanted a dinner."[327]

In the last days of his existence the Earl, indeed, acknowledged that
the state of his affairs was, in part, the reason of his defection from
Government. He attributed it, (though, it must be stated, under the
pressing arguments of a minister of religion who considered what he
termed "rebellion" as the most heinous sin,) to the great and pressing
difficulties into which he had brought himself, by extravagance and
dissipation: and declared, according to the account of his spiritual
guide, that the "exigency of his affairs was very pressing at the time
of the rebellion; and that, besides the general hope he had of mending
his fortune by the success of it, he was also tempted by another
prospect, of retrieving his circumstances if he followed the Pretender's
standard."[328]

Until the commencement of the insurrection of 1745, Lord Kilmarnock
enjoyed the possession of Dean Castle, a very ancient edifice, situated
about half a mile north east of the town of Kilmarnock, in Ayrshire. "It
is," says Grose in his Antiquities of Scotland, "at a small distance
from the main road leading from Kilmarnock to Stewarton, and consists of
a large vaulted square tower, which seems to have been built about the
beginning of the fifteenth century: this is surrounded by a court and
other buildings more modern."[329] Such is the description of Dean
Castle before the year 1735; when, to add to Lord Kilmarnock's other
necessities, it was partially destroyed by fire, leaving only a ruin
which he was too much impoverished even to restore to its former
habitable state. In the "great square tower," referred to by Grose, and
of which a view is preserved in his work on Scotland, the Boyd family
had dwelt in the days of their greatness, when one of their race was
created Earl of Arran. In that tower had the Earl imprisoned his royal
wife, the Lady Margaret, sister of James the Third, who was divorced
from him, pleading, as some say, a prior contract with the Lord
Hamilton, to whom she was afterwards united, taking to him the Isle of
Arran as her dower.

It does not appear that the Earl of Kilmarnock was originally in the
confidence of the Jacobite party: and their designs were not only
matured, but far in full operation before he took an open or active part
in the Stuart cause. It happened, however, that when Charles Edward
resided at Holyrood, the Countess of Kilmarnock was living in Edinburgh.
Her beauty, and the gaiety of her manners, attracted the admiration of
the young Prince, who bestowed no small portion of attention on the
fascinating daughter of one of his father's adherents. Lady Kilmarnock
was as much attached to pleasure as the young and beautiful usually are:
she delighted in public diversions, and led the way to all parties of
amusement. Her ambition, no less than her early prepossessions
conspired, it is said, to make her a Jacobite; and she hoped, by the
favour of Charles Edward, to obtain the restoration of her father's
title. Her entreaties to the Earl of Kilmarnock to join the standard of
the Prince were stimulated, therefore, by a double motive; and, indeed,
to a generous and romantic mind, there required neither the inducements
of ambition, nor of gratified vanity, to espouse that part which seemed
most natural to the Scotch. After the battle of Preston Pans, Lady
Kilmarnock's persuasions took effect: her husband presented himself to
the young Chevalier, who received him with every mark of esteem and
distinction, declared him a member of the privy council, raised him to
the rank of a general, and appointed him colonel of his guards.[330]

Another occurrence is, however, stated to have had a considerable
influence in forming the Earl's decision.

During the course of the conflict, he met, at Linlithgow, that
incomparable man, and excellent officer, Colonel Gardiner. This
individual, whose character forms so fine a relief to the party-spirited
and debased condition of the British army in the time of George the
Second, was a native of Linlithgowshire, having been born at Carriden,
in the year of the Revolution, 1688. His life commencing in that
important era, had been one of events. He had first entered the Dutch
service; then had served in Marlborough's army at Ramilies. Until this
incident of his life, the young soldier, then only nineteen, had run a
course of dissolute pleasure, and had obtained, from the frankness and
gaiety of his disposition, the name of the _happy rake_. Being in the
Forlorn hope, he was wounded, and left in a state hovering between life
and death, on the field, and in state of partial insensibility, from
which he was aroused at times to perfect consciousness.

The ball which had struck Gardiner, had entered his mouth; and without
breaking a single tooth, or touching the forepart of his tongue, had
passed through his neck, coming out above an inch and a half on the left
side of the vertebræ. He was abandoned by Marlborough's troops, who,
according to their custom, left the wounded to their fate, while they
pursued their advantages against the French.

In this state, the first serious emotions of gratitude, the first
convictions of a peculiar Providence suggested themselves to the mind of
the young officer: and although they did not, for some years, produce an
absolute amendment of life, they laid the foundation of his future
conversion, and of that exemplary piety and purity which extorted
admiration even in a dissolute age. After being present at every battle
that Marlborough had fought in Flanders, Colonel Gardiner had signalized
his courage in the Insurrection of 1715; and in 1745 he was again
ordered to the north to meet the Jacobite forces near Edinburgh.[331]

It was during this, his last campaign, when broken by ill health and
premature age, for this brave and good man despaired of the restoration
of peace to his country, that he supped in company with Lord Kilmarnock,
at Linlithgow. Colonel Gardiner's prognostications had long been most
gloomy. "I have heard him say," declared Dr. Doddridge, "many years
before the Scottish Insurrection, that a few thousands might have a
fair chance for marching from Edinburgh to London, uncontrolled, and
throw the whole kingdom into an astonishment." This opinion was derived
from his knowledge of the defenceless state of the country, and the
general prevailing disaffection. And the pious, but somewhat distrustful
views of Gardiner led him to assign yet more solemn reasons for his
anticipations of evil. "For my own part, though I fear nothing for
myself, my apprehensions for the public are very gloomy, considering the
deplorable prevalency of almost all kinds of wickedness among us; the
natural consequences of the contempt of the Gospel. I am daily offering
up my prayers to God for this sinful land of ours, over which His
judgments seem to be gathering; and my strength is sometimes so
exhausted with those strong cries and tears, which I pour out before God
upon this occasion, that I am hardly able to stand when I arise from my
knees."[332]

Imbued with these convictions, Colonel Gardiner, when he was retreating
at Linlithgow with the troops under his command, spoke unguardedly to
Lord Kilmarnock of the prospects of the English army, and thus confirmed
the wavering inclination of that ill-fated nobleman to follow Charles
Edward.[333] The decisive step was not, it appears, taken until after
the battle of Preston Pans, in which Colonel Gardiner, who had a
mournful presentiment of the event of that engagement, fell, after a
deportment truly worthy of the British soldier, and of the Christian.
This brave officer, after having received two wounds, fought on, his
feeble frame animated by the almost supernatural force of strong
determination. As he headed a party of foot who had lost their leader,
and cried out, "Fire on, my lads, fear nothing;" his right-arm was cut
down by a Highlander who advanced with a scythe, fastened to a pole. He
was dragged from his horse; and the work of butchery was completed by
another Highlander, who struck him on the head with a broadsword:
Gardiner had only power to say to his servant, "Take care of yourself."
The faithful creature hastened to an adjoining mill for a cart to convey
his master to a place of safety. It was not until two hours had elapsed,
that he was able to return. The mangled body, all stripped and
plundered, was, even then, still breathing; and the agony of that
gallant spirit was protracted until the next day, when he expired in the
house of the minister of Tranent.

This digression, introducing as it does, one of the _real_ heroes of
this mournful period, may be pardoned.

According to the evidence on his trial, Lord Kilmarnock first joined the
standard of Charles Edward on the "banks of the river which divides
England from Scotland;"[334] but Maxwell of Kirkconnel mentions that the
Earl marched from Edinburgh on the thirty-first of October, 1745, at the
head of a little squadron of horse grenadiers, with whom were some
Perthshire gentlemen, who, in the absence of their own commander, were
placed under the conduct of Lord Kilmarnock.[335] After this decisive
step, Lord Kilmarnock continued to follow Charles during the whole of
that ill-fated campaign, which ended in the battle of Culloden. During
the various events of that disastrous undertaking, his character, like
that of many other commanders in the Chevalier's army, suffered from
imputations of cruelty. That this vice was not accordant with his
general disposition of mind, the minister who attended him on his
death-bed sufficiently attests. "For myself," declares Mr. Foster, "I
must do this unhappy criminal the justice to own, that he _never_
appeared, during the course of my attendance upon him, to be of any
other than a soft, benevolent disposition. His behaviour was always mild
and temperate. I could discern no resentment, no disturbance or
agitation in him."[336] So gentle a character is not the growth of a
day; and if ever Lord Kilmarnock were betrayed into actions of violence,
it must have been under circumstances of a peculiar nature.

Among other charges which were specified against him, was a
participation in the blowing up of the church of St. Ninian's, in the
retreat from Stirling. But when, in the retirement of his prison
chamber, the unfortunate nobleman reviewed his conduct, and confessed
the errors of his life, he fully and satisfactorily cleared himself from
the heinous imputation implied in this work of destruction. When the
army of Charles were retiring from Stirling he was confined to his bed
ill of a fever. The first intimation that he had of the blowing up of
the tower of St. Ninian's was the noise, of which he never could obtain
a clear account. By the insurgents it was represented as accidental:
"this can I certainly say, as to myself, that I had no knowledge before
hand, nor any concurrence in a designed act of cruelty." Such was Lord
Kilmarnock's declaration to Mr. Foster.

Another instance of barbarity also laid to the charge of the Earl was,
his alleged treatment of certain prisoners of war who were intrusted to
his care in the church of Inverness. He was accused of stripping these
unfortunate persons of their clothes. Upon this point he admitted that
an order to deprive the prisoners of their garments for the use of the
Highlanders was issued by Charles Edward: that the warrant for executing
this order was sent to him. He did not, as he declared, enter the church
in person, but committed the office of execution to an inferior officer.
The prisoners, as might be expected, refused to submit to this
indignity; upon which a second order was issued, and their clothes were
taken from them. The well-timed remonstrance of Boyer, Marquis
D'Eguilles, who had been sent by the court of France in the character of
Ambassador to Charles Edward, arrested, however, the act of cruelty,
which not even extreme necessity can excuse. This nobleman had arrived
some time previously at Montrose, bringing in the ship in which he
sailed, arms and a small sum of money,[337] and his influence, which was
exerted in behalf of the captives, was happily considerable. He
represented to the Earl of Kilmarnock, that the rules of war did not
authorise the outrage which was contemplated. Lord Kilmarnock, convinced
by his remarks, repaired to Charles Edward, leaving heaps of the clothes
lying in the streets of Inverness, with sentinels standing to guard
them. By the arguments which he addressed to the Prince, these garments
were restored to their unfortunate owners; and a great stain on the
memory both of Charles and of his adherent was thus partially effaced.

Of such a nature were those imputations which were charged upon Lord
Kilmarnock; but they appear to have met with only a transient credence;
whilst a general impression of his gentleness, and a prevailing regret
for his fate endured as long as the memory of the dire contest, and of
its tragical termination, dwelt in the recollection of those who
witnessed those mournful times.

After the battle of Culloden, the prisoners were immediately set free.
The Duke of Cumberland, as he entered Inverness, taking his road amid
the carcasses of the dead strewed in the way, called for the keys of the
prisons, and with his own hands released the captives there, and,
clapping them on the shoulders as they came down stairs, exclaimed,
"brother soldiers, you are free."[338] Unfortunately his compassion was
of a party nature, and was only aroused for his own adherents.

At Culloden, fatal to so many brave men, Lord Kilmarnock was spared only
to taste much more deeply of the pangs of death than if he had met it in
battle. His fate had, indeed, been anticipated by the superstitious; and
it was considered a rash instance of hardihood in the unfortunate
nobleman to resist an omen which, about a year before the rebellion had
broken out, is said to have happened in his house.

One day, as the maid who attended usually upon Lady Kilmarnock was
inspecting some linen in an upper room of Dean Castle, the door of the
apartment suddenly opened of its own accord, and the view of a bloody
head, resembling that of Lord Kilmarnock, was presented to the
affrighted woman. As she gazed in horror, the head rolled near her. She
endeavoured in vain to repel it with her foot. She became powerless, but
she was still able to scream; her shrieks brought Lord Kilmarnock and
his Countess to the chamber. The apparition had vanished; but she
related succinctly the story "which, at that time," says the historian
who repeats it,[339] "Lord Kilmarnock too much ridiculed, though it
could have been wished that he had been forewarned by the omen. Such was
the superstition of the times, in which ignorance and credulity found
such ready supporters."

At Culloden, this ill-fated nobleman occupied a post not far from the
Prince, in the rear of whom was a line of reserve, consisting of three
columns, the first of which, on the left, was commanded by Lord
Kilmarnock; the centre column by Lord Lewis Gordon and Glenbucket; and
the right by the justly-celebrated Roy Stewart. In the opposite ranks,
an ensign in the royal regiment, was his son, Lord Boyd. During the
confusion of the fight, when half-blinded by the smoke, the unhappy Lord
Kilmarnock, as if fated to fulfil the omen, mistook a party of English
Dragoons for FitzJames's Horse, and was accordingly taken prisoner. He
was led along the lines of the British infantry. The vaunted beauty of
his countenance, and the matchless graces of which so much has been
said, were now obliterated by the disorder of his person, and his
humiliating position. His hat had been lost in the conflict, and his
long hair fell about his face. The soldiers as he was led along stood in
mute compassion at this sight. Among those who thus looked upon this
unfortunate man was his son, Lord Boyd, who was constrained to witness,
without attempting to alleviate, the distress of that moment. When the
Earl passed the place where his son stood, the youth, unable to bear
that his father should be thus exposed bareheaded to the storm which
played upon the scene of carnage, stepped out of the ranks and taking
his own hat from his head, placed it on that of his father. It was the
work of an instant, and not a syllable escaped the lips of the agitated
young man.[340]

Lord Kilmarnock was carried from the moor, which already, to use the
words of an eyewitness among the Government troops, "was covered with
blood; the men, what with killing the enemy, dabbling their feet in the
blood, and splashing it about one another, looked like so many
butchers."[341] Never, did even their enemies declare, was a field of
battle bestrewn with a finer, perhaps with a nobler race. "Every body
allowed," writes one of Cumberland's officers, "that men of a larger
size, larger limbs, and better proportioned, could not be found." The
flower of their unhappy country; hundreds of these had not yet been
blessed with the repose of death, but were left to languish in agony
until the next day, when they were butchered by the orders of
Cumberland. One of them, John Alexander Fraser, in the Master of Lovat's
regiment, was rescued by Lord Boyd from destruction. A soldier had
struck him with the butt of his musket, intending, according to the
orders given, to beat out his brains. The poor wretch, his nose and
cheek-bone broken, and one of his eyes pierced, still breathed when this
young nobleman passed him. He observed the poor creature, and ordered
his servants to carry him to a neighbouring kiln, where, in time, his
wounds were cured. "He lived," observes Mr. Chambers, "many years
afterwards, a dismal memorial of the cruelties of Culloden."[342]

According to one account, Lord Kilmarnock owed his escape from the field
of battle with his life to the brave and generous Lord Ancrum, who
delivered him to the Duke of Cumberland; and the same narrative adds,
that the Duke issued orders that no one should mention the Earl's
imprisonment to his son, but considerately imparted the intelligence to
the young man himself. It is only fair to mention this redeeming trait
in a man who had so many awful, and almost inexpiable sins to answer for
at the last day, when not our professions of kindness, but our acts of
mercy or of wrong will be placed before a solemn and final account.

After his surrender at Culloden, the Earl of Kilmarnock was conveyed to
London. That metropolis, in some of its most attractive features, was
well known to him: he had frequently resided there for several months
during the year, and had associated with the friends of government who
were near the court. He was now to view it under a very different
aspect; and during the period which elapsed between his surrender and
his trial, he had ample time to weigh the respective value of that
society which had formerly so much delighted him, and in which, it is
said he "had affected to talk freely of religion;" and of those great
truths which were now his only source of support.

Whatever may have been his early errors, the remaining days of Lord
Kilmarnock were characterized by gentleness to those who were placed in
authority over him; forbearance to those who slandered him, and
submission to God. Unable to conquer a natural intense love of life, he
assumed no pretended intrepidity:[343] yet manifested a still greater
concern for his character, than for his fate. Society in general, as
well as the annalists of the times, mourned for him, and with him; and
many who beheld his doom, would have sacrificed much of their own
personal safety to avert the close of that tragic scene. But these were
not times when the generous might venture to interfere with
security.[344]

Two noblemen, differing greatly in character from Lord Kilmarnock,
shared his imprisonment: Arthur, sixth Earl of Balmerinoch, or, as it is
usually spelled Balmerino, (pronounced Balmérino), and George, Earl of
Cromartie.

Of these individuals, Lord Balmerino, although an uncultured soldier,
has excited by far the greatest interest. He was descended, like most
of his associates from an ancient family. It was of German origin,[345]
first known in Scotland in the reign of Robert Bruce, to whose sister, a
German Knight, sirnamed Elphingston, or Elphinstone, was married. Such
was the esteem in which Robert Bruce held his foreign brother-in-law,
that he gave him lands in Midlothian, which still bear the name of
Elphinstone.[346] Hence was he called Elphinstone of that Ilk--a mode of
expression employed in Scotland to prevent the repetition of the same
name. In process of time certain estates which a descendant of the
German Knight acquired at Arthbeg, in Stirlingshire, were also endowed
with that surname; and, during several centuries, the martial and hardy
race to whom those lands belonged continued in the same sphere, that of
private gentlemen, chiefs of the House of Elphinstone. They were
remarkable, in successive generations, for that bold and manly character
which eventually distinguished their ill-fated descendant, Arthur
Balmerino, and which, in time, extorted applause from the most
prejudiced politicians of the opposite party. Alexander Elphinstone, in
the reign of David the Second, might have emulated the supposed deeds of
Guy Earl of Warwick; he rivalled him in gigantic figure, in immense
strength, and knightly prowess. His disposition was not only martial,
but chivalric; for, conscious of extraordinary power, "he was more
able," says a writer of the last century, "to overlook an affront, than
men less capable of resenting it." His son, inferior in bodily strength,
equalled him in military exploits, which distinguished indeed a
succession of the Elphinstones of that Ilk.[347] At Flodden, John
Elphinstone, who was created a Lord of Parliament by James the Fourth,
was killed by the side of his royal master, and being not unlike to that
monarch in face and figure, his body was carried to Berwick by the
English, who mistook it for that of the King.[348] In the reign of James
the Sixth, James, the second son of the third Lord Elphinstone, was
created a Baron by the name and title of Lord Balmerino. He rose to high
honours in the State; but the first disgrace that befell the family
occurred in this reign. This was the marriage of John, the second Lord
Balmerino, to Jane Ker, sister of the infamous Ker, Earl of Somerset,
and favourite of James the Sixth, who, for his sake, denounced a curse
on his posterity, which seems, says the writer before quoted, "to have
followed them and the nation ever since."

Like most of the noble families in Scotland, the house of Balmerino
became impoverished during the civil wars; and when the father of Arthur
Elphinstone succeeded to his title, he found his estates wofully
diminished. He was, however, one of those men who were capable, by
ability and prudence, of redeeming the fortunes of his family.
Circumstances were, indeed, adverse to the prosperity of any whose
loyalty to the Stuarts was suspected. Lord Balmerino was prudent, but he
was sincere. He was "a man of excellent parts, improved by reading,
being, perhaps, one of the very best lawyers in the kingdom, and very
expert in the Scottish constitution; he reasoned much and pertinently in
Parliament, and testifying, on all occasions, an unshaken loyalty to his
Prince, and zealous affection to his country, he gained the esteem and
love of all good men."

Such was the father, of whom this noble character was drawn, to whom
Arthur, Lord Balmerino, owed his being. Such was the man whom it would
have been the wiser policy of the British Ministry to have conciliated,
on the accession of George the First, but whose son they drove into an
act of imprudence by their distrust and injustice.

The first wife of John, fourth Lord Balmerino, was the daughter of Hugh,
Earl of Eglintoun, and, consequently, she was connected with some of the
most strenuous supporters of the Stuart cause in the kingdom of
Scotland. By her he had two sons, Hugh, who was killed in 1708, at the
siege of Lisle, and James, who was educated to the profession of the
law. Upon the death of this lady, Lord Balmerino married Anne, daughter
of Ross, the last Archbishop of St. Andrews, and by her had two sons:
Arthur, who became eventually Lord Balmerino, and Alexander, who died in
1733, unmarried; and a daughter, Anne, who died also unmarried. The
subject of this memoir may, therefore, be deemed the last of the House
of Balmerino.[349]

Arthur Elphinstone was born in the year 1688. He had, until late in
life, no expectation of succeeding to the title of his father after the
death of Hugh, there being still an elder brother, James. The
characteristics of all this branch of the Elphinstone family appear
almost invariably to have been those of honour and justice, and James
resembled his father in the integrity of his principles. The following
character is drawn of him by a contemporary writer: "He was rather a
solid pleader than a refined orator; but he understood the law so well,
and preserved the chastity of his character so tenderly, by avoiding
being concerned in any scandalous actions, that he was listened to with
great attention by the bench, at a time when it was filled by the most
eminent lawyers that ever appeared in Scotland."

The abilities of this able and conscientious man soon raised him to the
bench, where he discharged his duties with that high and nice sense of
integrity which can only be described by the word honour. He never mixed
party-spirit with his judgments: he lent himself to no ministerial
purposes. The dignity of the judge was preserved in his manly and
courageous character: and such was his application to business, that his
court was thronged with practitioners when those of other judges were
nearly deserted.

Arthur, his younger brother, possessed not his application, but
displayed much, nevertheless, of the natural ability of his family. "He
was not much acquainted with books; and though he was rich in repartee,
yet he never affected to reason." Such is the remark of a contemporary
writer. Yet who might not envy the clear, undisturbed intellect which
showed him, in a moment of peculiar temptation, the value of plain
dealing, and the inestimable price of a good conscience?

Some members of a family seem fated to suffer for the others. Arthur
Elphinstone was educated in the principles which brought him to the
scaffold: they were those of his father and brother, who were both
fortunate enough to preserve them in their own breasts, and yet not to
encounter trouble on that account. And, during the reign of Queen Anne
the family appear to have been deemed so well affected, as to procure
them promotion, not only in civil but military service. When very young,
Arthur Elphinstone obtained the command of a company of foot in Lord
Shannon's regiment, on the accession of George the First. His real
opinions were, however, manifested by his resignation of his commission;
and by his joining the standard of Lord Mar, under whom he commanded a
company, and served in the battle of Sherriff Muir. By throwing up his
commission, he escaped being punished as a deserter, and was allowed to
retire to the Continent. According to some accounts, he went first to
Denmark; by others it is said, that he entered at once into the French
service. He remained, at all events, twenty years in exile from his
family; but in 1733, an event occurred, which greatly increased the
natural desire which his father, declining in strength, had long
cherished of again beholding his son. Alexander Elphinstone, the younger
brother of Arthur, died at Leith, two years before the Insurrection
broke out. This young man had had the misfortune in 1730, to fight a
duel, shortly after which his adversary, Lieutenant Swift, had died of
his wounds. The combat took place on the Links of Leith; the affair was
notorious, and Alexander had been threatened with a prosecution, which
was not, however, put into execution.

This painful circumstance, coupled with Alexander Elphinstone's death,
may have naturally added to the wish which Lord Balmerino entertained,
to rescue his exiled son from the sentence of outlawry under which he
stood, and to restore him again to his home. Probably the desire of
perpetuating honours which had been gained by legitimate exertions, may
have been contemplated by the aged nobleman when he revolved in his mind
how he could compass the safe return of his younger, and surviving son,
to Scotland. James, the heir to the title, great as was the lustre which
his abilities and integrity shed upon it, was not likely to perpetuate
more honours, having no children by his wife Elizabeth Carnegie,
daughter of David, fourth Earl of Northesk.

It is one of the innumerable instances of human short-sightedness, that
the very recall of Arthur Elphinstone to Scotland was the cause of the
extinction of family honours, and of that line in which they rested.
According to some accounts, he remained abroad until the general Act of
Indemnity, from which he was not excepted, took effect:[350] but by
others it is stated, that his father, having made a strong application
to Government, obtained a free pardon for his son. If such were the
case, there seems a degree of ingratitude in again joining the enemies
of Government, which one can scarcely reconcile with the generous
character of this brave man.

He was in Switzerland when he received a summons to return to his native
country. His conduct upon the arrival of this intelligence was honest
and candid towards him, to whom, according to his notions, he owed
allegiance. He wrote to the Chevalier (St. George) and laid open the
circumstances of the case before him; stating that he should not accept
the proffered pardon without his permission. James answered this
explanation with his own hand; and not only gave Arthur Elphinstone
permission to return to Scotland, but informed him that he had ordered
his banker at Paris to pay his travelling expenses. Thus authorized,
Arthur returned home, welcomed by his aged father with a satisfaction
which happily was not destined to be alloyed by any adverse
circumstances during the lifetime of the venerable nobleman.

Thus was this ill-fated man restored to that land which probably,
although long severed from its glens and mountains, he had not ceased to
love. He was now of middle age, being in his forty-fifth year; but his
disposition, in spite of his long residence among foreigners, was still
thoroughly Scotch. He was as undaunted by danger as any of his valiant
ancestors had been, consequently he had no need to have recourse to
guile; in short, falsehood would have been impossible to that frank
nature. He was blunt in speech, but endowed with the kindest heart that
ever throbbed in the dungeons of that grim fortress in which his manly
career was closed. He had not, however, the prudence which is
characteristic of his countrymen: and which, once well understood, is as
distinct from selfishness and craft as their martial vehemence has
generally been from cruelty. A service in foreign campaigns had not
lessened his ideas of honour; which were perhaps more truly cherished
among military men on the Continent, than at that period in England. Few
British troops, for example, ever proved themselves more worthy of the
name of soldiers than the Hessians who served in Scotland in 1745. To
the fine and soldierly attributes of Lord Balmerino, to an intrepidity
almost amounting to indifference, to a warm and generous heart, were
united that ready and careless humour which accord so well with the
loftier qualities of the mind, and certainly rather enhance, than
detract from the charm of graver attributes of character.

In appearance, Lord Balmerino was strongly contrasted with the
fellow-sufferer with whom his name is indelibly associated. "His
person," writes a contemporary, "was very plain, his shape clumsy, but
his make strong: and he had no marks of the polite gentleman about him.
He was illiterate in respect of his birth; but rather from a total want
of application to letters, than want of ability."[351] His manners are
said to have been natural, if not courtly; his countenance only inferior
in its ungainliness to that of Lovat, but, expressing, we may suppose, a
very different temper of mind, harsh as were its features, it
captivated, as well as that of the handsome Kilmarnock, female
regard.[352]

According to some statements, Lord Balmerino married in 1711, before the
first Insurrection;[353] but no distinct allusion to a connection of so
early a period is to be found in the authenticated narratives of his
life. It was not, it seems evident, until after his return from
Switzerland, that he married Margaret, daughter of Captain
Chalmers--"the pretty Peggy," who was at once his solace and his sorrow
when in the Tower of London. In 1736, the father, whom he had returned
to cheer in his decline, died at his house in Leith, and was buried at
the family seat at Restalrig in Leith. His son James, succeeded to the
title.[354]

When the intelligence arrived, that Charles Edward had landed in
Scotland, Arthur Elphinstone hastened to the standard of the Prince. On
the thirty-first of October, 1745, he marched from Edinburgh, on the
expedition to England, having the command of a troop of horse, not
complete, in number about forty.[355] His military talents were well
known, for he had distinguished himself in several campaigns in
Flanders.[356] But, as he took into the field only his menial servants,
no very important posts were entrusted to him; and his career appears
not to have been signalized by any remarkable military exploits. In
short, it may be truly said of him as of Dr. Donne by Izaak Walton, that
"nothing in his life became him like the leaving it."

After joining the insurgent army, Lord Balmerino engaged in all the
various movements of that enterprise. After the siege of Carlisle he
entered that city at the head of his troop, with pipes playing, and
colours flying, having been at twelve miles' distance when the town was
taken; he then proceeded in the fatal expedition to Derby, and returned
a second time to Carlisle, preceding in his march the main body of the
army towards Scotland. He was present at the battle of Falkirk, but did
not engage in it: some of the cavalry having been kept as a _corps de
reserve_ in that engagement. His participation in that day's victory
was, however, afterwards imputed to him as an act of rebellion, although
he was merely drawn up in a field near the field of battle, in company
with Lord Kilmarnock and Lord Pitsligo. The body which he commanded,
went by the name of Arthur Elphinstone's Life Guards.[357]

A few weeks before the battle of Culloden, the elder brother of Arthur
Elphinstone, James Lord Balmerino, died, leaving the title which he had
enjoyed for so short a period, to the brother, who was then engaged in
so perilous a course. This accession of honour brought with it little
increase of fortune, but rather the responsibility of succeeding to
encumbered estates. Of these most had, indeed, passed into other
families. To the first Lord Balmerino charters of numerous lands and
baronies had been given; Barntoun, Barrie, Balumby, Innerpeffer,
Balgregie, Balmerino, Dingwall, &c., were among his possessions. In
1605, the barony of Restalrig, in South Leith, was sold to Lord
Balmerino by the noted and profligate Robert Logan, Baron of Restalrig,
to whose family that now valuable property, including the grounds lying
near the river, had belonged, until the days of the Queen Regent, Mary.
This estate, on which Lord Balmerino's father resided, appears to have
been almost the only vestige of the former opulence of this branch of
the Elphinstone family.[358] His embarrassed circumstances are deemed by
some writers to have had a considerable share in deciding Lord Balmerino
to join in a contest in which he had so little to lose; but it appeared,
in the hour of trial, that his principles of allegiance to the Stuarts
had been unaltered since the days of his youth, and that they were alone
sufficient to account for the part which he adopted. At the battle of
Culloden Lord Balmerino was made prisoner by the Grants, to whom, as one
of the witnesses on his trial affirmed, he surrendered himself. He was
conveyed to Castle Grant, and from thence to London, to the same dreary
fortress in which Lord Kilmarnock was likewise immured. The fate of
these two unfortunate men, hitherto but little dependant on each other,
was henceforth associated, until the existence of both was closed on the
scaffold.

George, the third Earl of Cromartie, was the only one of their
fellow-prisoners who was arraigned and tried with Kilmarnock and
Balmerino. He had taken even a more decided part in the insurrection
than Balmerino, having raised four hundred of his clan, who were with
him in the battle of Falkirk. His son, the young Lord Macleod, was also
in the Jacobite army, and both father and son were surprised at
Dunrobin, by a party of the Earl of Sutherland's militia, on the
fifteenth of April, and taken prisoners. Lord Cromartie had, as well as
Lords Kilmarnock and Balmerino, strong ties to life, strong claims upon
his reason to have withheld him from a hazardous participation in a
cause of peril. He had been married more than twenty years to Isabel,
daughter of Sir William Gordon, and had by her a numerous family. For
this nobleman, a powerful interest was afterwards successfully exerted.

These three noblemen were brought to London early in June. They were
shortly afterwards followed by about eight hundred companions in
misfortune. Of these, who arrived in the Thames on the twenty-first of
June, about two hundred were left at Tilbury Fort; while six hundred
were deposited in the various prisons of the metropolis. From henceforth
scenes of distress, and even of horror, were daily presented to the
prisoners. The Marquis of Tullibardine expired soon after his arrival at
the Tower; Lord Macleod, with happier fate, rejoined his father; Mr.
Murray of Broughton, who was treated with a distinction, at that time,
unexplicable, was also lodged in the same fortress. Those who were led
to expect the severest measures, might envy the calm departure of the
good old Marquis of Tullibardine; but all hearts bled when the gallant
Colonel Townley, a Roman Catholic gentleman of distinction, was dragged
on a sledge, along with other prisoners, to Kennington, his arms
pinioned; insulted by a brutal multitude, and there hanged. The horrid
barbarities of this sentence being fulfilled on his body, which was
still breathing, the hangman preparing to take out the heart and bowels,
struck it several times on the chest, before life (and perhaps
consciousness) was wholly extinct.

Day after day, the awful tragedies were repeated, exceeding any similar
displays of power since the days of the Tudors. Each of these _martyrs_,
as the voice of their own party pronounced them, in their last moments
declared, that "they died in a just cause--that they did not repent of
what they had done--that they doubted not their deaths would be
avenged." When, after nine executions had taken place in one morning,
the heart of the last sufferer was thrown into the fire, a savage shout
from the infuriated multitude followed the words "God save King George!"
The unfortunate man who had just perished was a young gentleman, named
Dawson, a graduate of St. John's College, Cambridge. He had for some
time been engaged to a young lady of good family, and great interest had
been made to procure his pardon. The lovers were sanguine in their
expectations, and the day of his release was to have been that of their
marriage.

When all hope was at an end, the young lady, not deterred by the
remonstrances of her kindred, resolved upon following Mr. Dawson to the
place of execution. Her intention was at length acceded to: she drove in
a hackney-coach after the sledges, accompanied by a relative, and by one
female friend. As the shout of brutal joy succeeded the silence of the
solemn scene, the words "My love,--I follow thee,--I follow thee!"
burst from the lips of the broken-hearted girl. She fell on the neck of
her companion, and, whilst she uttered these words, "Sweet
Jesus!--receive our souls together!" expired.[359] Recitals of these
domestic tragedies, proofs of the unrelenting spirit of government,
tended to break the firmness of some of those who survived.

Lord Cromartie sank into dejection; Kilmarnock's fine and gentle nature
was gradually purified for heaven. Balmerino rose to heroism.

The prisons were crowded with captives; the noblemen alone were
committed to the Tower; even two of the Scottish chiefs were sent to
Newgate; the officers were committed to the new gaol, Southwark; the
common men to the Marshalsea. Meantime, strong and prompt measures were
determined upon by Government.

Bills of indictment for high treason were found against Lord Kilmarnock,
the Earl of Cromartie, and the Lord Balmerino, by the grand jury of the
county of Surrey: a writ of certiorari was issued for removing the
indictments into the House of Peers, on the twenty-sixth of June, and
their trial was appointed to take place on the twenty-eighth of July
following. Westminster Hall was accordingly prepared for the trials, and
a high steward appointed in the person of the justly celebrated Lord
Hardwicke.

On the petition of Lord Kilmarnock, Mr. George Ross was engaged as his
solicitor, with permission to have free access to him at all times. On
the appointed day the trials commenced. Westminster Hall was fitted up
with unprecedented magnificence; and tickets were issued by the Lord
Chamberlain to the Peers, to give access to their friends. At eight
o'clock in the morning, the Judges in their robes, with the
Garter-King-at-Arms, the Usher of the Black Rod, and the
Serjeant-at-Arms waited on the Lord High Steward at his house in Ormond
Street: Garter in his coat of the king's arms, and Black Rod, having the
white staff attended them. After a short interval the procession to
Westminster Hall began: Lord Hardwicke, designated during the term of
the trial as "his Grace," came forth to his coach, his train borne, and
followed by the chief judges and judges. His coach was preceded by his
Grace's twenty gentlemen, uncovered, in five coaches two and two; by the
Serjeant-at-Arms, and the Black Rod. The heralds occupied the back seats
of his Grace's coach; the judges in their coaches followed. As the
procession entered the Palace-yard, the soldiers rested their muskets
and the drums beat, as to the Royal Family.

Meantime, the Peers in their robes were assembled; the Lord High Steward
having passed to the House, through the Painted Chamber, prayers were
read; and the peers were called over by Garter-King-at-Arms. The Lord
Steward, followed first by his four gentlemen attendants, two and two;
and afterwards by the clerks of the House of Lords, and the clerks of
the Crown; by the Peers, and the Peers' sons, proceeded to Westminster
Hall, the Lord Steward being alone uncovered, and his train borne by a
page.

Proclamation for silence having been made by the Lord Steward's
serjeant-at-arms, the commission was read, the lords standing up,
uncovered. Then his Grace, making obeisance to the lords, reseated
himself; and Garter, and the Black Rod, with their reverences, jointly
presented the white staff, on their knees, to his Grace. Thus fully
invested with his office, the Lord Steward took his staff in his hand
and descended from the woolsack to a chair prepared for him on an ascent
before the throne.

The three lords had been brought during this time from the Tower. The
Earl of Kilmarnock was conveyed in Lord Cornwallis's coach, attended by
General Williamson, Deputy Governor of the Tower; the Earl of Cromartie,
in General Williamson's coach, attended by Captain Marshal; and Lord
Balmerino in the third coach, attended by Mr. Fowler, Gentleman Gaoler,
who had the axe covered by his side. A strong body of soldiers escorted
these carriages.

The three lords being conducted into the Hall, proclamation was made by
the Serjeant-at-Arms that the Lieutenant of the Tower should bring his
prisoners to the bar, the proclamation being made in this form:--"Oyez,
oyez, oyez, Lieutenant of the Tower of London, bring forward your
prisoners, William Earl of Kilmarnock, George Earl of Cromartie, and
Arthur Lord Balmerino, together with the copies of their respective
commitments, pursuant to the order of the House of Lords."

Then the lords were led to the bar of the House by the
Lieutenant-Governor, the axe being carried before them with its edge
turned from them. The prisoners, when they approached the bar, made
three reverences, and fell upon their knees. Then said the Lord High
Steward your "lordships may arise;" upon which the three lords arose and
bowed to his Grace the High Steward, and to the House, which compliment
was returned by the Lord High Steward, and by the Peers.

Thus began the trial; "the greatest, and the most melancholy scene,"
wrote Horace Walpole to Sir Horace Mann, "that I ever saw. As it was the
most interesting sight, it was the most solemn and fine; a coronation is
but a puppet show, and all the splendour of it idle; but this sight at
once feasted one's eyes, and engaged one's passions;"--a signal avowal
for one whom a long continuance in the world's business, and, perhaps,
worse, its pleasures, had hardened. A hundred and thirty-nine lords were
present, making a noble sight on their benches, and assisting at a
ceremony which is said to have been conducted with the most awful
solemnity and decency throughout, with one or two exceptions.[360]

The Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, who presided on this occasion, has been
justly deemed one of the brightest ornaments of the woolsack. The son of
an attorney at Dover, as Philip Yorke, he had risen to the highest
offices of the law, by his immense acquirements, and his incomparable
powers of illustration and arrangement. By his marriage with a niece of
the celebrated Lord Somers, he strengthened his political interest,
which, however, it required few adventitious circumstances to secure.
Three great men have expressed their admiration of Lord Hardwicke almost
in similar terms: Lord Mansfield, Burke, and Wilkes. "When his lordship
pronounced his decrees, wisdom herself might be supposed to speak."[361]
In manner, he was usually considered to be dignified, impressive, and
unruffled; and his intentions were allowed to be as pure and elevated,
as his views were patriotic.

On this eventful day, since we cannot reject the testimony of an
eye-witness of discernment, we must believe that party spirit, which had
usually so little influence over his sense of justice, swayed the
prepossessions of Lord Hardwicke. At all events, it affected his
treatment of the unhappy men to whom he displayed a petulance wholly
derogatory to his character as a judge, and discreditable to his
feelings as a man. "Instead of keeping up the humane dignity of the law
of England, whose character is to point out any favour to the criminal,
he crossed them, and almost scolded at any offer they made towards
defence." Such is the remark of Horace Walpole.[362] Comely in person,
and possessing a fine voice, Lord Hardwicke had every opportunity, on
this occasion, of a graceful display of dignity and courtesy; yet his
deportment, usually so calm and lofty, was obsequious, "curiously
searching for occasion to bow to the minister, and, consequently,
applying to the other ministers, in a manner, for their orders;--not
even ready at the ceremonial." Notwithstanding, Lord Hardwicke, on his
death-bed, could with confidence declare "that he had never wronged any
man." The unhappy Jacobites seem, indeed, to have been considered
exceptions to all the common rules of clemency. None of the Royal
Family were present at the trial, from a proper regard for the feelings
of the prisoners, and also, perhaps, from a nice sense of the
peculiarity of their own condition.

After the warrants to the Lieutenant of the Tower were read, the Lord
High Steward addressed the prisoners, telling them that although their
crimes were of the most heinous nature, they were still open to such
defences as circumstances, and the rules of law and justice would allow.
The indictments for high treason were then read: to these, Lords
Kilmarnock and Cromartie pleaded guilty; but when the question was put
to Lord Balmerino, he demanded boldly, but respectfully to be heard,
objecting to two clauses in the indictment, in which he was styled
"Arthur Lord Balmerino, of the town of Carlisle," and also charging him
with being at the taking of Carlisle, when he could prove "that he was
not within twelve miles of it." Not insisting upon these objections, and
the question being again put to him, he then pleaded, 'not guilty.' Lord
Kilmarnock and Lord Cromartie were removed from the bar, and the trial
of Balmerino began. It was prefaced by addresses from Sir Richard Loyd,
king's counsel, and from Mr. Serjeant Skinner, who made, what was justly
considered by H. Walpole, "the most absurd speech imaginable," calling
"Rebellion, surely the sin of witchcraft," and applying to the Duke of
Cumberland the unfortunate appellation of "Scipio."[363] The Attorney
General followed, and witnesses were afterwards examined, who fully
proved, though accused by Balmerino of some inconsistencies, his acts of
adherence to the Chevalier; his being present in towns where James
Stuart was proclaimed King; his wearing the regimentals of Prince
Charles's body guards; his marching into Carlisle at the head of his
troops, with a white cockade in his cap; his presence at the battle of
Falkirk, in a field with Lords Kilmarnock and Pitsligo, who were at the
head of a corps of reserve. Six witnesses were examined, but there was
no cross-examination, except such as Balmerino himself attempted. The
witnesses were chiefly men who had served in the same cause for which
the brave Balmerino was soon to suffer. After they had delivered their
testimony, the "old hero," as he was well styled, shook hands cordially
with them. In one or two instances, as far as can be judged by the
answers, the evidence seems to have been given with reluctance. Lord
Balmerino being asked if he had any thing to offer in his defence, he
observed that none of the witnesses had agreed upon the same day as that
which was named in the indictment for being at Carlisle; and objected to
the indictment, that he was not at the taking of Carlisle as therein
specified. His objections were taken into consideration; the Lords
retired to their chamber, and there consulted the judges whether it be
necessary that an overt act of high treason should be proved to have
been committed on the particular day named in the indictment.

The answer being in the negative, every hope of acquittal was
annihilated for Balmerino. He gave up every further defence, and
apologised with his usual blunt courtesy for giving their Lordships so
much trouble: he said that his objections had been the result of advice
given by Mr. Ross, his solicitor, who had laid the case before counsel.
The question was then put by the Lord High Steward, standing up,
uncovered, to the Lords, beginning with the youngest peer, Lord Herbert
of Cherbury; "whether Arthur Lord Balmerino were guilty of high treason,
or not guilty?" An unanimous reply was uttered by all those who were
present; "guilty upon my honour." Lord Balmerino, who had retired while
the question was put, was then brought back to the bar to hear the
decision of the Lords. It was received with the intrepidity which had,
all throughout the trial, characterised the soldier and the man. During
the intervals of form, his natural playfulness and humour appeared, and
the kindness of his disposition was manifested. A little boy being in
the course of the trial near him, but not tall enough to see, he took
him up, made room for the child, and placed him near himself. The axe
inspired him with no associations of fear. He played upon it, while
talking, with his fingers, and some one coming up to listen to what he
was saying, he held it up like a fan between his face and that of the
gentleman-gaoler, to the great amusement of all beholders. And this
carelessness of the emblem of death was but a prelude to the calmness
with which he met his fate. "All he troubled himself about," as a writer
of the time observed, "was to end as he begun, and to let his sun set
with as _full_ and _fair_ a light as it was possible."[364] During the
time that the Lords were withdrawn, the Solicitor-General Murray, and
brother of Murray of Broughton, addressed Balmerino, asking him "how he
could give the Lords so much trouble," when he had been told by his
solicitor that the plea could be of no use to him? The defection and
perfidy of Murray of Broughton were now generally known; and the
officious insolence of his inquiry was both revolting and indiscreet.
Balmerino asked who this person was, and being told, exclaimed, "Oh! Mr.
Murray, I am extremely glad to see you. I have been with several of your
relations, the poor lady, your mother, was of great use to us at
Perth."[365] An admirable and well-merited rebuke. He afterwards
declared humorously that one of his reasons for not pleading guilty was,
"that so many fine ladies might not be disappointed of their show."

Besides the interest which at such a moment the grave dignity of
Kilmarnock, contrasted with the lofty indifference of Balmerino, might
excite, there was some diversion among the Peers, owing to the
eccentricity of several of their body. Of these, one, Lord Windsor,
affectedly said when asked for his vote, "I am sorry I must say, _guilty
upon my honour_." Another nobleman, Lord Stamford, refused to answer to
the name of Henry, having been christened Harry. "What a great way of
thinking," remarks Horace Walpole, "on such an occasion." Lord Foley
withdrew, as being a well-wisher to poor Balmerino; Lord Stair on the
plea of kindred--"uncle," as Horace Walpole sneeringly remarks, to his
great-grandfather; and the Earl of Moray on account of his relationship
to Balmerino, his mother, Jane Elphinstone, being sister to that
nobleman.[366]

But the greatest source of amusement to all who were present was the
celebrated Audrey, or to speak in more polite phrase, Ethelreda, Lady
Townshend, the wife of Charles, third Viscount Townshend, and the
mother of the celebrated wit, Charles Townshend. Lady Townshend was
renowned for her epigrams, to which, perhaps, in this case, her being
separated from her husband gave additional point. When she heard her
husband vote, "_guilty upon my honour_," she remarked, "I always knew
_my_ Lord was _guilty_, but I never knew that he would own it upon his
_honour_." Her sarcastic humour was often exhibited at the expense of
friend or foe. When some one related that Whitfield had recanted, "No,
madam," she replied, "he has only _canted_." And when Lord Bath ventured
to complain to this audacious leader of fashion, that he had a pain in
his side, she cried out, "Oh! that cannot be, you have _no side_."

A touch of feminine feeling softened the harshness of the professed wit,
always a dangerous, and scarcely ever a pleasing character in woman. As
Lady Townshend gazed on the prisoners at the bar, and saw the elegant
and melancholy aspect of Lord Kilmarnock, the heart that was not wholly
seared by a worldly career is said to have been deeply and seriously
touched by the graces of that incomparable person, and the mournful
dignity of his manner. Perhaps, opposition to her husband, whose
grandfather was Minister to George the First, and whose mother was a
Walpole, gave the additional luxury of partisanship; that passion which
lasted even some weeks after the scene was closed; and when the
fashionable world were left to enjoy, undisturbed by any fears of any
future rebellion, all the dangerous attractions of the dissolute Court.

The first day's proceedings being at an end, the prisoners were
remanded to the Tower. On the following morning the proceedings were
resumed, and the Lords having assembled in the Painted Chamber, took
their places in Westminster Hall. The three lords were then again
brought to the bar, again kneeled down, again were bidden to arise. The
Attorney-General having prayed for judgment upon the prisoners, they
were desired by the Lord High Steward to say "why judgment of death
should not be passed against them according to law."

The reply of Lord Kilmarnock is described as having been a "very fine
speech, delivered in a very fine voice;" his behaviour during the whole
of the trial, a "most just mixture between dignity and submission." Such
is the avowal of one who could not be supposed very favourable to the
party; but whose better feelings were, for once, called into play during
this remarkable scene.[367]

The address of Lord Kilmarnock, however beautiful and touching in
expression, will not, however, satisfy those who look for consistency in
the most solemn moments of this chequered state of trial; but in
perusing the summary of it, let it be remembered that he was a father;
the father of those who had already suffered deeply for his adherence to
Charles Edward; that he was the husband of a lady who, whatever may have
been their differences, was at that awful hour still fondly beloved;
that he dreaded penury for his children, an apprehension which those who
remembered the fate of the Jacobites of 1715 might well recall; a dread,
aggravated by his rank; a dread, the bitterness of which is
indescribable; the temptations it offers unspeakably great. These
considerations, far stronger than the fear of death, actuated Lord
Kilmarnock. He arose, and a deep silence was procured, whilst he offered
no justification of his conduct, "which had been," he said, "of too
heinous a nature to be vindicated, and which any endeavour to excuse
would rather aggravate than diminish." He declared himself ready to
submit to the sentence which he was conscious that he had deserved.
"Covered with confusion and grief, I throw myself at his Majesty's
feet."

He then appealed to the uniform honour of his life, previous to the
insurrection, in evidence of his principles. "My sphere of action,
indeed, was narrow; but as much as I could do in that sphere, it is well
known, I have always exerted myself to the utmost in every part of his
Majesty's service I had an opportunity to act in, from my first
appearance in the world, to the time I was drawn into the crime, for
which I now appeal before your Lordships."

He referred to his conduct during the civil contest; to his endeavours
to avert needless injury to his opponents; to his care of the prisoners,
a plea which he yet allowed to be no atonement for the "blood he had
been accessary to the spilling of. Neither," he said, "do I plead it as
such, as at all in defence of my crime."

"I have a son, my lords," he proceeded, "who has the honour to carry his
Majesty's commission; whose behaviour, I believe, will sufficiently
evince, that he has been educated in the firmest revolution principles,
and brought up with the warmest attachment to his Majesty's interests,
and the highest zeal for his most sacred person.

"It was my chief care to instruct him in these principles from his
earliest youth, and to confirm him, as he grew up, in the justice and
necessity of them to the good and welfare of the nation. And, I thank
God, I have succeeded;--for his father's example did not shake his
loyalty; the ties of nature yielded to those of duty; he adhered to the
principles of his family, and nobly exposed his life at the battle of
Culloden, in defence of his King and the liberties of Great Britain, in
which I, his unfortunate father, was in arms to destroy."

Lord Kilmarnock next alluded to the services of his father in 1715, when
his zeal and activity in the service of Government had caused his death:
"I had then," he added, "the honour to serve under him."

Lord Kilmarnock proceeded to explain his own circumstances at the time
of the insurrection: he declared that he was not one of those dangerous
persons who could raise a number of men when they will, and command them
on any enterprise they will: "my interests," he said, "lie on the south
side of the Forth, in the well inhabited, and well affected counties of
Kilmarnock and Falkirk, in the shires of Ayr and Stirling." His
influence he declared to be very small.

This portion of his appeal was ill-advised; for it seems to have been
the policy of Government to have selected as objects of royal mercy
those who had most in their power, not the feeble and impoverished
members of the Jacobite party. It has been shown what favour would have
been manifested to the chief of the powerful clan Cameron, had he
deigned to receive it: and the event proved, that not the decayed
branches, but the vigorous shoots were spared. Lord Cromartie, who had
taken a far more signal part in the insurrection than either Kilmarnock
or Balmerino, and whose resources were considerable, was eventually
pardoned, probably with the hope of conciliating a numerous clan.

After appealing to his surrender in extenuation of his sentence, and
beseeching the intercession of the Lords with his Majesty, Lord
Kilmarnock concluded--"It is by Britons only that I pray to be
recommended to a British monarch. But if justice allow not of mercy, my
lords, I will lay down my life with patience and resignation; my last
breath shall be employed in the most fervent prayers for the
preservation and prosperity of his Majesty, and to beg his forgiveness,
and the forgiveness of my country." He concluded, amid the tears and
commiseration of a great majority of those who heard his address.

The Earl of Cromartie was then called upon to speak in arrest of
judgment. His defence is said to have been a masterly piece of
eloquence. It ended with a pathetic appeal, which fell powerless on
those who heard him.[368]

"But, after all, if my safety shall be found inconsistent with that of
the public, and nothing but my blood be thought necessary to atone for
my unhappy crimes; if the sacrifice of my life, my fortune, and family,
are judged indispensable for stopping the loud demands of public
justice; if, notwithstanding all the allegations that can be urged in my
favour, the bitter cup is not to pass from me, not mine, but thy will, O
God, be done."[369]

Balmerino then arose to answer the accustomed question. He produced a
paper, which was read for him at the bar, by the clerk of the court. It
was a plea which had been sent by the House of Lords that morning to the
prisoners, and which, it was hoped, would save all of these unfortunate
men. It contained an objection to the indictments, stating that the act
for regulating the trials of rebels, and empowering his Majesty to
remove such as are taken in arms from one county to another, where they
might be tried by the common courts of peers, did not take effect till
after the facts, implying treason, had been committed by the
prisoners.[370] The two Earls had not made use of this plea, but Lord
Balmerino availed himself of it, and demanded counsel on it. Upon the
treatment which he then encountered, the following remark is made by one
who viewed the scene, and whose commiseration for the Jacobites forms
one of the few amiable traits of his character.[371]

"The High Steward," relates Horace Walpole, "almost in a passion, told
him, that when he had been offered counsel, he did not accept it;--but
do think on the ridicule of sending them the plea, and then denying them
counsel on it."[372] A discussion among the Lords then took place; and
the Duke of Newcastle, who, as the same writer truly remarks, "never
lost an opportunity of being absurd," took it up as a ministerial point
"in defence of his creature, the Chancellor." Lord Granville, however,
moved, according to order, to return to the Chamber of Parliament, where
the Duke of Bedford and many others spoke warmly for their "having
counsel," and that privilege was granted. "I said _their_," observes
Walpole, "because the plea would have saved them all, and affected nine
rebels who had been hanged that very morning."

The Lords having returned to the Hall, and the prisoners being again
called to the bar, Lord Balmerino was desired to choose his counsel. He
named Mr. Forester, and Mr. Wilbraham, the latter being a very able
lawyer in the House of Commons. Lord Hardwicke is said to have remarked
privately, that Wilbraham, he was sure, "would as soon be hanged as
plead such a cause." But he was mistaken: the conclusion of the trial
was again deferred until the following day, Friday, August the first,
when Mr. Wilbraham, accompanied by Mr. Forester, appeared in court as
counsel for the prisoners. Previously, however, to the proceedings of
the last day, Lord Balmerino was informed that his only hope was
ill-founded; the plea was deemed invalid by the counsel; and the straw
which had, with the kindest and most laudable intentions, been thrown on
the stream to arrest his fate, was insufficient to save him. He bore
this disappointment with that fortitude which has raised the character
of his countrymen: when he appeared on that last day, in Westminster
Hall, with his brother prisoners, he submitted, in the following brief
and simple words, to his destiny. "As your lordships have been pleased
to allow me counsel, I have advised with them; and my counsel tell me,
there is nothing in that paper which I delivered in on Wednesday last,
that will be of any use to me; so I will not give your lordships any
more trouble."

When again asked, according to the usual form, as well as the other
prisoners, whether he had anything more to say in arrest of judgment,
Lord Balmerino replied; "No, my Lords, I only desire to be heard for a
moment." Expressing his regret that he should have taken up so much of
their lordships' time, he assured them that the plea had not been put in
to gain time, but because he had believed there was something in the
objection that would do him good. He afterwards added these few words,
which one might have wished unsaid: "My lords, I acknowledge my crime,
and I beg your lordships will intercede with his Majesty for me."

The Serjeant-at-Arms was then distinctly heard proclaiming silence; and
the Lord High Steward delivered what Horace Walpole has termed, "his
very long, and very poor speech, with only one or two good passages in
it." On this, there may be, doubtless, contending opinions. Those who
looked upon the prisoners, and saw men in the full vigour of life,
condemned to death, for acting upon acknowledged, though misapplied
principles, could scarcely listen to that protracted harangue with an
unbiassed judgment. The tenour of the Lord High Steward's address had,
throughout, one marked feature; it presented no hope of mercy; it left
no apology nor plea upon which the unhappy prisoners might expect it. It
amplified every view of their crime, and pointed out, in strong and able
language, its effect upon every relation of society.

In conclusion, Lord Hardwicke said, "I will add no more: it has been his
Majesty's justice to bring your lordships to a legal trial; and it has
been his wisdom to show, that as a small part of his national forces was
sufficient to subdue the rebel army in the field, so the ordinary course
of his law is strong enough to bring even their chiefs to justice.

"What remains for me, is a very painful, though a very necessary part.
It is to pronounce that sentence which the law has provided for crimes
of this magnitude--a sentence full of horror! Such as the wisdom of our
ancestors has ordained, as one guard about the sacred person of the
king, and as a fence about this excellent constitution, to be a terror
to evil doers, and a security to them that do well."

And then was heard, thrilling every tender heart with horror, the
sentence of hanging, first to be put into execution, and followed by
decapitation. The horrible particularities were added--"_of being hanged
by the neck,--but not till you are dead--for you must be cut down
alive;_"--the rest of this sentence, since it has long ago been suffered
to fall into oblivion, may, for the sake of our English feelings, rest
there. By those to whom it was addressed, it was heard in the full
conviction that it might be carried out on them: since that very
morning, nine prisoners of gentle birth had suffered the extreme
penalties of that barbarous law.[373]

Of the calm manner in which his doom was heard by one of the state
prisoners, Horace Walpole has left the following striking anecdote:

"Old Balmerino keeps up his spirits to the same pitch of gaiety: in the
cell at Westminster, he showed Lord Kilmarnock how he must lay his head;
bid him not wince, lest the strokes should cut his head or his
shoulders; and advised him to bite his lips. As they were to return, he
begged they might have another bottle together, as they should never
meet any more till--he pointed to his neck. At getting into his coach,
he said to the gaoler, 'Take care, or you will break my shins with this
d----d axe.'"[374]

The English populace could not forbear delighting in the composure of
Balmerino, who, on returning from Westminster Hall after his sentence,
could stop the coach in which he was about to be conducted to the Tower
to buy gooseberries; or, as he expressed it in his national phrase,
_honey-blobs_.[375]

That night, not contented with saying publicly at his levee, that Lord
Kilmarnock had proposed murdering the English prisoners, the Duke of
Cumberland proposed giving his mistress a ball; but the notion was
abandoned, lest it should have been regarded as an insult to the
prisoners, and _not_ because a particle of highminded regret for the
sufferers could ever enter that hard and depraved heart. Too well did
the citizens of London understand the Duke of Cumberland's merits,
when, it being proposed to present him with the freedom of some company,
one of the aldermen cried aloud, "Then let it be of the Butchers'!"[376]

The commission was dissolved in the usual forms: "all manner of persons
here present were desired to depart in the fear of God, and of our
sovereign Lord the King." The white staff of office was broken by the
Lord High Steward; the Lords adjourned to the Chamber of Parliament; the
prisoners returned to the Tower.[377]

Three weeks elapsed, after the trial, before the execution of Lord
Kilmarnock and Lord Balmerino. During that interval, hope sometimes
visited the prisoners in their cells, great intercession being made for
them by persons of the highest rank. But it was in vain, for the
counsels of the Duke of Cumberland influenced the heart of his royal
father, who it is generally believed, would otherwise have been disposed
to compassion. During this interval, the sorrows of the prisoners were
aggravated by frequent rumours that their beloved Prince was taken; but
he was safe among his Highlanders, and defied the power even of an armed
force to surprise him in his singular and various retreats.

The Earl of Cromartie was the only one of the three prisoners to whom
royal mercy was extended. This nobleman had been considered, before the
Insurrection, as the only branch of the Mackenzies who could be relied
upon. He had been backward in joining the Jacobite army, and had never
shared the confidence of Charles Edward. He had been disgusted with the
preference shown to Murray and to Sullivan, to the prejudice of more
powerful adherents of the cause: and it was reported, had rather
surrendered himself to the Earl of Sutherland's followers, than resisted
when they apprehended him.[378]

Amiable in private life, affable in manner, and exempt from the pride of
a Highland chieftain, this nobleman had been beloved by his neighbours
of inferior rank; to the poor he had been a kind benefactor. The
domestic relations of life he had fulfilled irreproachably. Every heart
bled for him; and the case of his son, Lord Macleod, who had espoused
the same cause, excited universal commiseration.

On the Sunday following the trial, Lady Cromartie presented her petition
to the King: he gave her no hopes; and the unhappy woman fainted when he
left her.

It is pleasing to rest upon one action of clemency, before returning to
the horrors of capital punishment. To the intercession of Frederick
Prince of Wales, Lord Cromartie eventually owed his life; that
intercession is believed to have been procured by the merits and the
attractions of Lady Cromartie, who was indefatigable in her exertions.

This Lady, the daughter of Sir William Gordon of Dalfolly, is said to
have possessed every quality that could render a husband happy.
Beautiful and intellectual, she manifested a degree of spirit and
perseverance when called upon to act in behalf of her husband and
children, that raised her character to that of a heroine. She was then
the mother of nine children, and about to give birth to a tenth. During
the period of suspense, her conduct presented that just medium between
stoicism and excess of feeling, which so few persons in grief can
command.[379]

At last, a reprieve for Lord Cromartie arrived on the eleventh of
August; it was not, however, followed by a release, nor even by a free
pardon. During two years, Lord Cromartie was detained a prisoner in the
Tower, there, being condemned to witness the departure of his generous
friends, Kilmarnock and Balmerino, to the scaffold. On February the
eighteenth, 1748, he was permitted to leave his prison, and to lodge in
the house of a messenger. In the following August he went into
Devonshire, where he was desired to remain. A pardon passed the Great
Seal for his Lordship on the twentieth of October, 1749, with a
condition that he should remain in any place directed by the King. He
died in Poland-street in London, on the twenty-eighth of September,
1766.[380]

On Thursday, the seventh of August, the Reverend James Foster, a
Presbyterian minister, was allowed access to Lord Kilmarnock, to prepare
him for a fate which now seemed inevitable. Great intercession had been
made for the ill-fated prisoner, by his kinsman, James, sixth Duke of
Hamilton, and husband of the celebrated beauty, Miss Gunning; but the
friendly efforts of that nobleman were thought rather to have "hurried
him to the block."[381] When a report reached him that one of the
prisoners would be spared, Lord Kilmarnock had desired, with the utmost
nobleness of soul, that Cromartie should be preferred to himself.
Balmerino lamented that he had not been taken with Lord Lovat; "for
then," he remarked, "we might have been sacrificed, and these two brave
men have been spared." But these regrets were unavailing, and Lord
Kilmarnock and his friend prepared to meet their doom.

Mr. Foster, on conversing with Lord Kilmarnock, found him humbled, but
not crushed by his misfortunes; contrite for a life characterized by
many errors, but trustful of the Infinite mercy, to which we fondly turn
from the stern justice of unforgiving man. And the reverend gentleman on
whom the solemn responsibility of preparing a soul for judgment was
devolved, appears to have discharged his task with a due sense of its
delicacy, with fidelity and kindness.

Having introduced himself to Lord Kilmarnock with the premises that his
Lordship would allow him to deal freely with him; that he did not expect
to be flattered, nor to have the malignity of his crimes disguised or
softened;--Mr. Foster told him, "that in his opinion, the wound of his
mind, occasioned by his private and public vices, must be probed and
searched to the bottom, before it could be capable of receiving a
remedy." "If he disapproved of this plan," Mr. Foster thought "he could
be of no use to him, and therefore declined attendance." To this Lord
Kilmarnock replied that, "whilst he thought it was not Mr. Foster's
province to interfere in things remote from his office, yet it was now
no time to prevaricate with him, nor to play the hypocrite with God,
before whose tribunal he should shortly appear."

This point being settled, the minister of the Gospel deemed it necessary
to persuade the Earl, that he was not to be amused with vain delusive
hopes of a reprieve; that he must view his sentence as inevitable;
otherwise that his mind might be distracted between hope and fear; and
that true temper of penitence which alone could recommend him to Divine
mercy would be unattainable.

The unfortunate Earl touchingly answered, that indeed, when he consulted
his reason, and argued calmly with himself, he could see no ground of
mercy; yet still the hope of life would intrude itself. He was afraid,
he said, that buoyed up by this delusive hope, when the warrant for his
execution came down, he should have not only the terror of his sentence
to contend with, but the fond delusions of his own heart:--to overcome
the bitter disappointment--the impossibility of submission. He therefore
assured Mr. Foster, that he would do all in his own power to repel that
visionary enemy, and to fix his thoughts on the important task of
perfecting his repentance, and of preparing for death and eternity.

In regard to the part which Lord Kilmarnock had taken in recent events,
there seemed no difficulty in impressing his mind with a deep sense of
the responsibility which he had incurred in helping to diffuse terror
and consternation through the land, in the depredation and ruin of his
country: and in convincing him that he ought to consider himself
accessory to innumerable private oppressions and murders. "Yes," replied
Lord Kilmarnock, with deep emotion "and murders of the innocent too,"
And frequently he acknowledged this charge with tears, and offered up
short petitions to God for mercy.

But when Mr. Foster mentioned to him that the consequences of the
"Rebellion and its natural tendency was to the subversion of our
excellent free constitution, to extirpate our holy religion, and to
introduce the monstrous superstitions and cruelties of Popery," Lord
Kilmarnock hesitated; and owned, at length, that he did not contemplate
such mischiefs as the result of the contest; that he did not believe
that the young Chevalier would run the risk of defeating his main design
by introducing Popery; nor would so entirely forget the warnings which
the history of his family offered, so far as to make any attacks upon
the liberties and constitution of the country. His entering into the
Rebellion was occasioned, as he then declared, by the errors and vices
of his previous life; and was a kind of desperate scheme to extricate
him from his difficulties. Humbled and penetrated by the remembrance of
former levity, Lord Kilmarnock remarked, that not only was Providence
wise and righteous, but to him, gracious; and that he regarded it as an
unspeakable mercy to his soul, that he had not fallen at the battle of
Culloden, impenitent and unreflecting; for that, if the Rebellion had
been successful, he should have gone on in his errors, without ever
entertaining any serious thought of amendment. "Often," added the
contrite and chastened man, "have I made use of these words of Christ,
'Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless, not
as I will, but as thou wilt.'" But he had checked himself by the
reflection, that it was not for him who had been so great a sinner, to
address himself to God in the same language with his blessed Saviour,
who was perfectly innocent and holy.

In time, aided by the representations of his spiritual attendant, the
deepest remorse for a life not untainted by impurity of conduct, was
succeeded by religious peace. It was then that the prisoner turned to
that Bread of Life which Christ hath left for those who hunger and
thirst after righteousness. But the Minister who led him into the fold
of the Great Shepherd, would not consent to administer to him the Holy
Sacrament without a full confession made in the presence of the
gentleman gaoler, of his past offences, and of his contrition for them.
At that solemn moment, when the heart was laid open to human witnesses,
Lord Kilmarnock professed the deepest penitence for his concurrence in
the Rebellion, and for the irregularities of his private life: he
declared his conviction that the Holy Sacrament would be of no benefit
to him whatsoever, if his remorse and contrition were not sincere. This
assurance was, in other words, yet, in substance the same, emphatically
repeated. During the conversations held with Lord Kilmarnock, Mr. Foster
perceived that the confessions of the penitent were free and ingenuous;
that he examined his own heart with a searching and scrupulous care,
sternly challenging memory to the aid of conscience. At last, he
declared that he should rather prefer the speedy execution of his
sentence to a longer life, if he were sure that he should again be
entangled by the snares and temptations of the world. This was a few
days before his death.

Gradually, but effectually, the spirit that had so much in it of a
heavenly temper; the heart, so framed to be beloved, was purified and
elevated; so that, a beautiful and holy calm, a heavenly
disinterestedness, a patience worthy of him who bore the name of
Christian, were manifested in one whom it were henceforth wrong to call
unhappy. When Lord Cromartie's reprieve became known to Mr. Foster, he
dreaded, lest this subdued, yet fortified mind, should be disturbed by
the jealousies to which our worldly condition is prone: he trembled lest
the sorrow of separation from a world which Lord Kilmarnock had loved
too fondly, should be revived by the pardon of his friend. "Therefore,"
relates Mr. Foster, "in the morning before I waited upon him, I prepared
myself to quiet and mollify his mind. But one of the first things he
said to me was, that he was extremely glad that the King's mercy had
been shown to Lord Cromartie." "My Lord," inquired Mr. Foster, "I hope
you do not think you have any injustice shown you?" Lord Kilmarnock's
answer was, "Not in the least; I have pleaded guilty: I entirely
acquiesce in the justice of my sentence; and if mercy be extended to
another, I can have no reason to complain, when nothing but justice is
done to me."

With regard to some points upon which the public odium was directed to
the young Chevalier and his party, Lord Kilmarnock was very explicit in
his last conversations with Mr. Foster. We have already seen how far he
was enabled to clear himself concerning his conduct to the prisoners at
Inverness. A report having been industriously circulated, probably with
a view to excuse the barbarities of the Duke of Cumberland, that an
order had been issued in the Pretender's council at Inverness, to
destroy the prisoners who might be taken at the battle of Culloden, Mr.
Foster put the question to Lord Kilmarnock, Whether that statement were
true? "I can most sincerely and freely answer, No," was the satisfactory
reply; and a similar contradiction was given by the dying man to every
accusation of a similar tendency.[382]

On Monday the eleventh of August, General Williamson desired Mr. Foster,
"in the gentlest terms that he could use, to apprize Lord Kilmarnock,
that he had received the order for his, and for Lord Balmerino's
execution." Mr. Foster at first refused to undertake this office. "I was
so shocked at it," writes the good man "that I could not think of
delivering the message myself, but would endeavour to prepare the
unfortunate Lord for it, by divesting him, as far as I could, of all
hope of life." Such, indeed, had been the continual aim of all the
reverend minister's counsels; and he had hoped to entrust the last
mournful task of informing him of the order to other hands. On finding
Lord Kilmarnock in a very resigned and calm state of mind, he ventured,
however, to hint to him how necessary was that diligent and constant
preparation for death which he had endeavoured to impress upon his mind.
This was sufficient: the ill-fated prisoner immediately inquired,
"whether the warrant for his execution was come down?" "I told him that
it was," relates Mr. Foster, "and that the day fixed upon was the
following Monday."

Lord Kilmarnock received this intimation with a solemn consciousness of
the awful nature of its import; but no signs of terror nor of anxiety
added to the sorrows of that hour. In the course of conversation, he
observed to Mr. Foster, that "he was chiefly concerned about the
consequences of death, in comparison of which he considered the 'thing
itself' a trifle: with regard to the manner of his death he had, he
thought, no great reason to be terrified, for that the stroke appeared
to be scarcely so much as the drawing of a tooth, or the first shock of
a cold bath upon a weak and fearful temper." At the last hour,
nevertheless, the crowd,--the scaffold,--the doom, upset that sublime
and heavenly resignation,--the weakness of the flesh prevailed, although
only for an instant.

In the silence and solitude of his prison, Lord Kilmarnock's
recollection reverted to those whom human nature were shortly to be left
to buffet with the storms of their hard fate. It reverted also to those
who might, in any way, have suffered at his hands. The following
touching epistle, addressed to his factor, Mr. Robert Paterson, written
two days only before his execution, shows how tender was his affection
for his unhappy wife: in how Christian a spirit towards others he died.
His consideration for the poor shoemakers of Elgin is one of those
beautiful traits of character which mark a conscientious mind. The
original of this letter is still in existence, and is in the possession
of the great-grandson of him to whom it was addressed.[383]

    "Sir,

    "I have commended to your care the inclosed packet, to be delivered
    to my wife in the manner your good sense shall dictate to you, will
    be least shocking to her. Let her be prepared for it as much by
    degrees, and with great tenderness, as the nature of the thing will
    admit of. The entire dependance I have all my life had the most just
    reason to have on your integrity and friendship to my wife and
    family, as well as to myself, make me desire that the inclosed
    papers may come to my wife through your hands, in confidence; but
    you will take all the pains to comfort her, and relieve the grief I
    know she will be in, that you and her friends can. She is what I
    leave dearest behind me in the world; and the greatest service you
    can do to your dead friend, is to contribute as much as possible to
    her happiness in mind, and in her affairs.

    "You will peruse the State[384] before you deliver it to her, and
    you will observe that there is a fund of hers (I don't mention that
    of five hundred Scots a-year); as the interest of my mother-in-law's
    portion in the Countess of Errol's hands, with, I believe, a
    considerable arrear upon it; which, as I have ordered a copy of all
    these papers to that Countess, I did not care to put in. There is
    another thing of a good deal of moment, which I mention only to you,
    because if it could be taken away without noise it would be better;
    but if it is pushed it will be necessary to defend it. That is, a
    bond which you know Mr. Kerr, Director to the Chancery, has of me
    for a considerable sum of money, with many years interest on it,
    which was almost all play debt. I don't think I ever had fifty
    pounds, or the half of it, of Mr. Kerr's money, and I am sure I
    never had a hundred; which however I have put it to, in the inclosed
    declaration, that my mind may be entirely at ease. My intention with
    respect to that sum was to wait till I had some money, and then buy
    it off, by a composition of three hundred pounds, and if that was
    not accepted of, to defend it; in which I neither saw, nor now see
    anything unjust; and now I leave it on my successors to do what they
    find most prudent in it. Beside my personal debt mentioned in
    general and particular in the State,[385] there is one for which I
    am liable in justice, if it is not paid, owing to poor people, who
    gave their work for it by my orders; it was at Elgin in Murray; the
    regiment I commanded wanted shoes. I commissioned something about
    seventy pair of shoes and brogues, which might come to about three
    shillings, or three and sixpence each, one with another. The
    magistrates divided them among the shoemakers of the town and
    country, and each shoemaker furnished his proportion. I drew on the
    town for the price out of the composition laid on them, but I was
    told afterwards at Inverness, that it was believed the composition
    was otherwise applied, and the poor shoemakers not paid. As these
    poor people wrought by my orders, it will be a great ease to my
    heart to think they are not to lose by me, as too many have done in
    the course of that year; but had I lived, I might have made some
    enquiry after it; but now it is impossible, as their hardships in
    loss of horses, and such things which happened through my soldiers,
    are so interwoven with what was done by other people, that it would
    be very hard, if not impossible, to separate them. If you will write
    to Mr. Jones of Dalkinty, at Elgin, (with whom I was quartered when
    I lay there,) he will send you an account of the shoes, and if they
    were paid to the shoemakers or no; and if they are not, I beg you'll
    get my wife, or my successors, to pay them when they can.

    "Receive a letter to me from Mrs. Boyd, my cousin Malcomb's widow; I
    shall desire her to write to you for an answer.

    "Accept of my sincere thanks for your friendship and good services
    to me. Continue them to my wife and children.

    "My best wishes are to you and yours, and for the happiness and
    prosperity of the good town of Kilmarnock, and I am, sir, your
    humble servant,

                                                       "KILMARNOCK."

    Tower of London, August 16th, 1746.

On the Saturday previous to the execution of Lord Kilmarnock, General
Williamson gave his prisoners a minute account of all the circumstances
of solemnity, and outward terror, which would accompany it. Lord
Kilmarnock heard it much with the same expression of concern as a man of
a compassionate disposition would read it, in relation to others. After
suggesting a trifling alteration in the arrangements after the
execution, he expressed his regret that the headsman should be, as
General Williamson informed him, a "good sort of man;" remarking, that
one of a rougher nature and harder heart, would be more likely to do
his work quickly. He then requested that four persons might be appointed
to receive the head when it was severed from the body, in a red cloth;
that it might not, as he had heard was the case at other executions,
"roll about the scaffold and be mangled and disfigured." "For I would
not," he added, "though it may be but a trifling matter, that my remains
should appear with any needless indecency after the just sentence of the
law is satisfied." He spoke calmly and easily on all these particulars,
nor did he even shrink when told that his head would be held up and
exhibited to the multitude as that of a traitor. "He knew," he said,
"that it was usual, and it did not affect him." During these singular
conversations, his spiritual attendant and the General, could hardly
have been more precise in their descriptions had they been portraying
the festive ceremonials of a coming bridal, than they were in the
fearful minutiæ of the approaching execution. It was thought by them
that such recitals would accustom the mind of the prisoner to the
apparatus and formalities that would attend his death, and that these
would lose their influence over his mind. "He allowed with me," observes
Mr. Foster, "that such circumstances were not so melancholy as dying
after a lingering disorder, in a darkened room, with weeping friends
around one, and whilst the shattered frame sank under slow exhaustion."
But experience and human feelings contradict this observation of the
resigned and unhappy sufferer; we look to death, under such an aspect,
as the approach of rest; but human nature shrinks from the violent
struggle, the momentary but fierce convulsion, plunging us, as it were,
into the abyss of the grave.

At this moment of his existence, when it was certain ruin at Court and
in the army, to befriend the Jacobite prisoner, a friend, the friend of
his youth, came nobly forward to attend Lord Kilmarnock in his dying
moments. This was John Walkinshaw Craufurd, of Craufurdland in the
county of Ayr, between whose family and that of the House of Boyd, a
long and intimate friendship of several centuries had existed; "so much
so," observes a member of the present family of Craufurd,[386] "that a
subterranean passage is said to exist between our old castles, of which
we _fancy_ proofs; but these are fire-side legends."

"The family of Craufurd," observes Mr. Burke, "is one of antiquity and
eminence in a part of the empire where ancestry and exploit have ever
been held in enthusiastic admiration." By marriage, in the thirteenth
century, it is allied anciently with the existing house of Loudon; and
its connection and friendship with the House of Boyd was cemented by the
death of one of its heads, Robert Craufurd, in 1487, in consequence of a
wound received at the Wyllielee, from attending James Boyd, Earl of
Arran, in a duel with the Earl of Eglintoun. In the days of Charles the
First and Second, the Craufurds had been Covenanters, as appears in the
history of that time: and in the year 1745, they were stanch Whigs; and
Colonel Walkinshaw Craufurd had, when called upon to pay a mournful
proof of respect to Lord Kilmarnock, attained the rank of Colonel in the
British army. Besides the ancient friendship of the family, there had
been several intermarriages; and the father of Colonel Craufurd had
espoused, after the death of Miss Walkinshaw, Elenora, the widow of the
Honorable Thomas Boyd, the brother of Lord Kilmarnock.

Colonel Walkinshaw Craufurd was a fine specimen of the true Scottish
gentleman, and of the British officer. He was a very handsome, stately
man, of high-bred manners, and portly figure, whom his tenantry both
feared and honoured. He lived almost continually in the highest circles
in London, except when in service, and also at the Court, visiting his
Castle in Ayrshire only in the hunting season, for he kept a pack of
hounds. To such a man the sacrifice of public opinion, then all against
the Jacobites,--the sure loss of Court favour,--the risk of losing all
military promotion, were no small considerations; yet he cast them all
to the winds, and came nobly forward to pay the last respect to his
kinsman and friend.

Already had he distinguished himself at the battle of Dettingen and
Fontenoy; and he might reasonably expect the highest military honours:
yet he incurred the risk of attending Lord Kilmarnock on the scaffold,
and performing that office for him which that nobleman required. I
almost blush to write the sequel; for _this_ act, Colonel Craufurd was,
immediately after the last scene was over, put down to the very bottom
of the army list.[387] Such was the petty and vindictive policy of the
British Government, influenced, it may be presumed, by the same dark
mind that visited upon the faithful Highlanders the horrors of military
law, in punishment of their fidelity and heroism. "The King," observes
Horace Walpole, referring to these and other acts, "is much inclined to
mercy; but the Duke of Cumberland, who has not so much of Cæsar after a
victory, as in gaining it, is for the utmost severity."[388]

Whilst the mind of Lord Kilmarnock was thus gradually prepared for
death, Lord Balmerino passed cheerfully the hours which were so soon to
terminate in his doom. Fondly attached to his young wife, Balmerino
obtained the boon of her society in his prison. So much were the people
attracted by the hardihood and humour of this brave old man, that it was
found necessary by the authorities to stop up the windows of his
prison-chamber in the Tower, in order to prevent his talking to the
populace out of the window. One only was left unclosed, with
characteristic cruelty: it commanded a view of the scaffolding erected
for his execution.[389] One day the Lieutenant of the Tower brought in
the warrant for his death: Lady Balmerino fainted. "Lieutenant," said
Lord Balmerino, "with your d----d warrant you have spoiled my Lady's
dinner."

Lord Balmerino is said to have written to the Duke of Cumberland a "very
sensible letter," requesting his intercession with the King; but this
seems to have been unavailing, from the well-known exclamation of George
the Second, when solicited for the other prisoners, "Will no one speak a
word to me for poor Balmerino?"

The day appointed for the execution was the eighteenth of August, at
eight in the morning. Mr. Foster visited Lord Kilmarnock, and found him
in a calm and happy temper, without any disturbance of that serenity
which had of late blessed his days of imprisonment. He affected not to
brave death, but viewed it in the awful aspect in which even the best of
men, and the most hopeful Christians, must consider that solemn change.
He expressed his belief, that a man who had led a dissolute life, and
who yet believed the consequences of death, to affect indifference at
that hour, showed himself either to be very impious, or very stupid.
One apprehension still clung to his mind, proving how sensitive had been
that conscience which strove in vain to satisfy itself. He told Mr.
Foster "he could not be sure that his repentance was sincere, because it
had never been tried by the temptation of returning to society."

Lord Kilmarnock continued in a composed state of mind during the whole
morning. After a short prayer, offered up by Mr. Foster, at his desire,
he was informed that the sheriffs waited for the prisoners. He heard
this announcement calmly; and said to General Williamson, with his
wonted grace, "General, I am ready to follow you." He then quitted his
prison, and descended the stairs. As he was going down, he met Lord
Balmerino; and the friends embraced. "My Lord," said the noble
Balmerino, "I am heartily sorry to have your company in this
expedition."[390]

The prisoners then proceeded to the outward gate of the Tower, where the
Sheriffs, who had walked there in procession, received them: this was
about ten o'clock in the morning of the eighteenth of August. The bodies
of the two noblemen having been delivered with the usual formalities to
the Sheriffs, they proceeded to the late Transport Office, a building
near the scaffold. Two Presbyterian ministers, Mr. Foster and Mr. Home,
accompanied Lord Kilmarnock, whilst the Chaplain of the Tower and
another clergyman, attended Lord Balmerino. Three rooms, hung with
black, were prepared; one for each of the condemned noblemen; another,
fronting the scaffold, for spectators. Here, those who were so soon to
suffer, had a short conference with each other, chiefly relating to the
order, said to have been issued at Culloden, to give no quarter. This
was a subject, not only of importance to Lord Kilmarnock's memory, but
to the character of the Jacobite party generally.

"Did you, my Lord," said the generous Balmerino, still anxious, even at
the last hour, to justify his friends, "see or know of any order, signed
by the Prince, to give no quarter at the battle of Culloden?"

"No, my Lord," replied Kilmarnock.

"Nor I neither," rejoined Balmerino; "and therefore it seems to be an
invention to justify their own murderous scheme."

To this Lord Kilmarnock answered, "No, my Lord, I do not think it can be
an invention, because, while I was a prisoner at Inverness, I was told
by several officers that there was such an order, signed 'George
Murray,' and that it was in the Duke of Cumberland's custody." To this
statement, (which was wholly erroneous) Lord Balmerino exclaimed, "Lord
George Murray! Why then, they should not charge it on the Prince." After
this explanation, he bade Kilmarnock a last farewell: as he embraced
him, he said, in the same noble spirit, that he had ever shown, "My dear
Lord Kilmarnock, I am only sorry I cannot pay all this reckoning alone:
once more, farewell for ever."

Lord Kilmarnock was then left with the sheriffs, and his spiritual
advisers. In their presence, he solemnly declared himself to be a
Protestant, and said that he was thoroughly satisfied of the legality of
the King's claim to the throne. He had been educated in these
principles, and he now thoroughly repented having ever engaged in the
Rebellion. He afterwards stated to his friends that he had within this
week taken the sacrament twice in evidence of the truth of his
repentance.

The hour of noon was now fast approaching, when the last act of
relentless justice was to be performed. Mr. Foster, after permitting the
Earl a few moments to compose himself, suggested that he should engage
with him in prayer, and afterwards proceed to the scaffold. The minister
then addressed himself to all who were present, urging them to join with
him in this last solemn office, and in recommending the soul of an
unhappy penitent to the mercy of God. Those who were engaged in this sad
scene, sank on their knees, whilst, after a petition relating to the
prisoner, a prayer was offered up "for King George, for our holy
religion, for our inestimable British liberties." This prayer, for the
royal family, Lord Kilmarnock had often protested he would, at the
latest moment, offer up to the throne of God.

After this solemn duty had been performed, Lord Kilmarnock bade an
affectionate farewell to the gentlemen who had accompanied him, and here
Mr. Foster's office ceased, the Rev. Mr. Home, a young clergyman, and a
personal friend of Lord Kilmarnock, succeeding him in attendance upon
the prisoner. Many reports prevailed of Lord Kilmarnock's fear of death,
and of the weakness of his resolution; and Balmerino, it is said,
apprehended that he would not "behave well," an expression used,
perhaps, in reference to his opinions, perhaps in anticipation of a
failure of courage. As leaning upon the arm of his friend Mr. Home,
Lord Kilmarnock saw, for the first time, that outward apparatus of death
to which he had taken such pains to familiarise himself; "nature still
recurred upon him;"--for an instant, the home of peace, to which he was
hastening, was forgotten;--"the multitude, the block, the coffin, the
executioner, the instrument of death," appalled one, whose character was
amiable, rather than exalted. He turned to his attendant, and exclaimed,
"Home, this is terrible!" Yet his countenance, even as he uttered these
words, was unchanged, and in a few moments, he regained the composure of
one whose hope was in the mercy of his Creator. What else could sustain
him in the agonies of that moment? "His whole behaviour," writes Mr.
Foster, "was so humble and resigned, that not only his friends, but
every spectator, was deeply moved; the executioner burst into tears, and
was obliged to use artificial spirits to support and strengthen him." As
the man kneeled down, after the usual custom, to pray for forgiveness,
Lord Kilmarnock desired him to have courage, and placing a purse of gold
in his hand, told him that the dropping of a handkerchief should be the
signal for the blow.

Mr. Foster having rejoined Lord Kilmarnock on the scaffold, a long
conversation, in a low voice, took place between them; for Lord
Kilmarnock made no speech. "I wish," said Mr. Foster, "I had a voice
loud enough to tell the multitude with what sentiments your Lordship
quits the world." Again, the unfortunate nobleman embraced his friends;
and bade Mr. Foster, who quitted the scaffold a few minutes before his
execution, a last farewell. During all this time, which was more than
half an hour, he took no notice of the multitude below: except,
observing that the green baize over the wall obstructed the view, he
desired that it might be lifted up that the crowd might see the
spectacle of his execution.

A delay now took place, attributed by some to Lord Kilmarnock's
"unwillingness to depart:"[391] but owing to a few trivial circumstances
which, as Mr. Foster remarks, "are unnecessary to be mentioned in order
to vindicate the noble penitent from the imputation of fear in the
critical moment." To the last, a scrupulous attention to decorum, and
nicety in dress characterized Lord Kilmarnock. At his trial, he was
described as having been a little too precise, and his hair "too exactly
dressed for a person in his situation." On the scaffold the same care
was manifested. He appeared in a mourning suit, and his hair, which was
unpowdered, was dressed according to the fashion of the day, in a bag,
which it took some time to undo, in order to replace the bag by a cap.
Even then, the cap being large, and the hair long, his lordship was
apprehensive that some of the hair might escape, and intercept the
stroke of the axe. He therefore requested a gentleman near him, to tie
the cap round his head, that he might bind up the hair more closely. As
this office was performed, the person to whom he had applied, wished his
lordship a continuance of his resolution until he should meet with
eternal happiness. "I thank you," returned Lord Kilmarnock, with his
usual courtesy and sweetness; "I find myself perfectly easy and
resigned."

There was also another impediment,--the tucking of his shirt under his
waistcoat was next adjusted. Then Lord Kilmarnock, taking out a paper
containing the heads of his last devotions, advanced to the utmost stage
of the scaffold, and kneeled down at the block, on which, in praying, he
placed his hands, until the executioner remonstrated, begging of him to
let his hands fall down, lest they should be mangled, or should
intercept the blow. He was also told that the neck of his waistcoat was
in the way; he therefore arose, and with the help of Colonel Walkinshaw
Craufurd, had it taken off. Near him were standing those who held the
cloth ready to receive his head; among these Mr. Home's servant heard
Lord Kilmarnock tell the executioner, that in two minutes he would give
the signal. A few moments were spent in fervent devotion; then the sign
was given, and the head was severed from the body by one stroke. It was
not exposed to view according to custom: but was deposited in a coffin
with the body, and delivered to his Lordship's friends. One peculiarity
attended this execution. It is not required by law that the head of a
person decapitated should be exposed; but is a custom adopted in order
to satisfy the multitude that the execution has been accomplished.
Since, by Lord Kilmarnock's dying request, this practice was omitted,
the Sheriffs ordered that all the attendants on the scaffold should
kneel down, so that the view of the execution might not be impeded[392]
to those who were below.

The scaffold was immediately cleared, and put in order for another
victim; and Mr. Ford, the Under-Sheriff, who had attended the first
execution, went into the room in the Transport Office where Balmerino
awaited his doom. "I suppose," inquired the undaunted Balmerino, "that
my Lord Kilmarnock is no more." And having asked how he died, and being
told the account, he said: "It is well done, and now, gentlemen, I will
no longer detain you, for I desire not to protract my life." He spoke
calmly, and even cheerfully; Lord Kilmarnock had shed tears as he bade
his friends farewell, but Balmerino, whilst others wept, was even
cheerful, and hastened to the scaffold. His deportment, when in the room
where he awaited the summons to death, was graceful and yet simple,
without either any ostentation of bravery, or indications of
indifference to his fate. He did not defy the terror, he rose above it.
He conversed freely with his friends, and refreshed himself twice with
wine and bread, desiring the company to drink to him, as he expressed it
in his Scottish phrase, "ain degrae ta haiven;" but above all, he prayed
often and fervently for support, and support was given.

True to the last to his professions, Lord Balmerino was dressed in what
was called by a contemporary, "his Rebellious Regimentals," such as he
had worn at Culloden; they were of blue cloth, turned up with red;
underneath them was a flannel waistcoat and a shroud. He ascended the
scaffold, "treading," as an observer expressed it, "with the air of a
General," and surveying the spectators, bowed to them; he walked round
it, and read the inscription on his coffin, "Arthurus Dominus de
Balmerino, decollatus, 18^o die August. 1746, ætatis suæ 58^o;" observed
"that it was right," and with apparent pleasure looked at the block
saying, it was his "pillow of rest." Lord Balmerino then pulling out his
spectacles, read a paper to those who stood around him, and delivered it
to the Sheriff to do with it as he thought proper. It was subsequently
printed in a garbled form, much of it being deemed too treasonable for
publication, and in that form is preserved in the State Trials.[393] It
is now given as it was really spoken.

"I was bred in the anti-revolution principles, which I have ever
persevered in, from a sincere persuasion that the restoration of the
Royal Family, and the good of my native country, are inseparable. The
action of my life which now stares me most in the face, is my having
accepted a commission in the army from the late Princess Anne, who I
knew had no more right to the crown than her predecessor, the Prince of
Orange, whom I always considered as an infamous usurper.

"In the year 1715, as soon as the King landed in Scotland, I thought it
my indispensable duty to join his standard, though his affairs were then
in a desperate situation.

"I was in Switzerland in the year 1734, where I received a letter from
my father acquainting me that he had procured me remission, and desiring
me to return home. Not thinking myself at liberty to comply with my
father's desire without the King's approbation, I wrote to Rome to know
his Majesty's pleasure, and was directed by him to return home; and at
the same time I received a letter of credit upon his banker at Paris,
who furnished me with money to defray the expense of my journey, and put
me in repair. I think myself bound, upon this occasion, to contradict a
report which has been industriously spread, and which I never heard of
till I was prisoner; that orders were given to the Prince's army to give
no quarter at the battle of Culloden. With my eye upon the block, which
will soon bring me unto the highest of all tribunals, I do declare that
it is without any manner of foundation, both because it is impossible it
could have escaped the knowledge of me, who was captain of the Prince's
Life Guards, or of Lord Kilmarnock, who was colonel of his own regiment;
but still more so, as it is entirely inconsistent with the mild and
generous nature of that brave Prince, whose patience, fortitude,
intrepidity, and humanity, I must declare upon this solemn occasion, are
qualities in which he excels all men I ever knew, and which it ever was
his desire to employ for the relief and preservation of his father's
subjects. I believe rather, that this report was spread to palliate and
excuse the murders they themselves committed in cold blood after the
battle of Culloden.

"I think it my duty to return my sincere acknowledgments to Major White
and Mr. Fowler, for their humane and complaisant behaviour to me during
my confinement. I wish I could pay the same compliment to General
Williamson, who used me with the greatest inhumanity and cruelty; but
having taken the sacrament this day, I forgive him, as I do all my
enemies.

"I die in the religion of the Church of England, which I look upon as
the same with the Episcopal Church of Scotland, in which I was brought
up."

After delivering this speech, Lord Balmerino laid his head upon the
block, and said, "God reward my friends, and forgive my enemies: bless
and restore the King; preserve the Prince, and the Duke of York,--and
receive my soul."

The executioner then being called for, and kneeling to ask forgiveness,
Lord Balmerino interrupted him. "Friend, you need not ask my
forgiveness; the execution of your duty is commendable." He then gave
the headsman three guineas, saying, "this is all I have; I can only add
to it my coat and waistcoat," which, accordingly, he took off, laying
them on the coffin for the executioner. After putting on a flannel
jacket made for the occasion, and a plaid cap, he went to the block in
order to show the executioner the signal. He then returned to his
friends. "I am afraid," he said, addressing them, "that there are some
here who may think my behaviour bold: remember, sir," he added,
addressing a gentleman near him, "what I tell you; it arises from a just
confidence in God, and a clear conscience." Memorable, and beautiful
words, distinguishing between the presumption of indifference, and the
security of a living faith. When he laid his head on the block to try
it, he said, "if I had a thousand lives I would lay them all down in the
same cause."

Lord Balmerino then showed the Executioner where to strike the blow; he
examined the edge of the axe, and bade the man to strike with
resolution; "for in _that_, friend," he said, as he replaced the axe in
the hand of the man, "will consist your mercy." He asked how many
strokes had been given to Lord Kilmarnock. Two clergymen coming up at
that moment, he said, "no, gentlemen, I believe you have already done me
all the service you can." He called loudly to the warder, and gave him
his perriwig; and instantly laid down his head upon the block, but being
told that he was on the wrong side, he vaulted round, and extending his
arms uttered this short prayer: "O Lord, reward my friends, forgive my
enemies:"--he uttered, it has been stated, another ejaculation for king
James; but that petition was suppressed in the printed accounts of his
death: then, pronouncing these words, "receive my soul," he gave the
signal by throwing up his arm, as if he were giving the signal for
battle. His intrepidity, and the suddenness of that last sign terrified
the executioner, whose arm became almost powerless; the affrighted man
struck the blow on the part directed, but though, it is hoped, it
destroyed all sensation, the head was not severed, but fell back on the
shoulders, exhibiting a ghastly sight. Two more strokes of the axe were
requisite to complete the work. Then, the head having been received in a
piece of scarlet cloth, the lifeless remains of the true, and noble
hearted soldier were deposited in a coffin, and delivered to his
friends.

A vast multitude viewed this spectacle, so execrable in its cruelty, so
great in the deportment of the sufferers. Even on the masts of ships, in
the calm river, were the spectators piled; all classes of society were
interested in this memorable scene; and, for a few short weeks, the
fashionable circles were diverted by the humours of Lady Townshend, and
the witticisms of George Selwyn. During the imprisonment of Kilmarnock,
it had been the fancy of the former to station herself under the window
of his chamber in one of the dismal towers in which he was detained; to
send messages to him, and to obtain his dog and snuff-box. But even this
show of affected feeling failed to make compassion fashionable in the
regions of St. James's. Calumny was busy at the grave of the beheaded
Jacobites; and the accounts of those who attended them in their last
hours were attacked by anonymous pamphleteers. It was said, among other
things, that Balmerino uttered no prayer at the last moment; and his
behaviour was contrasted with that of Kilmarnock. On this allegation,
Mr. Ford, the Under-Sheriff, who was on the scaffold, observes, "the
authors of these attacks being concealed are unworthy of other notice,
since nothing is easier to an ingenious and unprejudiced mind, than to
distinguish between the subject and the man: my Lord Kilmarnock was
happily educated in right principles, which he deviated from, and
repented; whereas, the great, though unhappy Balmerino, was unfortunate
in his,--but, as he lived, he died."[394]

The characters of these two noblemen, who, in life, held a very
dissimilar course, until they coöperated in arms, are strongly
contrasted. To Kilmarnock belonged the gentle qualities which enhance
the pleasures of society, but often, too, increase its perils: the
susceptible, affectionate nature, not fortified by self-controul; the
compassionate disposition, acting rather from impulse than principle.
Infirm in principle, his rash alliance with a party who were opposed to
all that he had learned to respect in childhood; and whom he joined,
from the stimulus of a misdirected ambition, cannot be justified. To
this, it was generally believed, he was greatly incited by the
persuasions of his mother-in-law, the Countess of Errol.

Whilst we bestow our cordial approbation on those who engaged in civil
strife from a sense of duty, and from notions of allegiance, which had
never been exterminated from their moral code, we condemn such as,
attaching themselves to the Jacobite party, outraged their secret
convictions, betrayed the trusts of Government, and violated the promise
of their youth. Such a course must spring either from selfishness, or
weakness, or from a melancholy union of both. In Lord Kilmarnock it was
far more the result of weakness than of self-interest: his fortunes were
desperate, and his mind was embittered towards the ruling government:
his admiration was attracted by the gallantry and resolution of those
who adhered to the Chevalier: his sense of what was due to his rank, and
the consciousness of high descent, coupled with empty honours and real
poverty, stimulated him to take that course which seemed the most likely
to regain a position, without ever enjoying which a man may be happy,
but which few can bear to lose. This was his original error; he joined
the standard of Charles Edward,--but he was no Jacobite. He fought
against his own convictions, the hereditary and ineffaceable
prepossessions implanted in the heart by a parent.

From henceforth, until immured in the Tower, all in the career of Lord
Kilmarnock was turbulence; and, it must be acknowledged, crime. For
nothing can justify a resistance of sovereign power, save a belief in
its illegality. "I engaged in the rebellion," was Lord Kilmarnock's
confession, "in opposition to my own principles, and to those of my
family; in contradiction to the whole tenor of my conduct." Such were
his expressions at that hour when no earthly considerations had power to
seduce him into falsehood.

By those historians who espouse the Jacobite cause, this avowal has been
severely censured; and Lord Kilmarnock has been regarded as deserting
the party which he had espoused. But, with his conviction, such a line
of conduct as that which he pursued in prison, could alone be honest,
and therefore alone consistent with his religious hopes, before he
quitted life. Such censure has been well answered in Lord Kilmarnock's
own words, "I am in little pain for the reflections which the
inconsiderate or prejudiced part of my countrymen, (if there are any
such whom my suffering the just sentence of the law has not mollified,)
may cast upon me for this confession. The wiser or more ingenious will,
I hope, approve my conduct, and allow with me, that next to doing right
is to have the courage and integrity to avow that I have done wrong."
These sentiments were not, be it observed, made public until after his
death.

If, in early life, the career of Lord Kilmarnock were tainted by
dissolute conduct, his deep contrition, his sincere confession of his
errors, his endeavours to amend them, redeem those very errors in the
eyes of human judgment, as they will probably plead for him, with One
who is more merciful than man. In his prison, his patience in suspense,
his forbearance to those who had urged on his death, his generous
sentiments towards his companions in misfortune,--his care for others,
his trust in the mercy of his Saviour, present as instructive a lesson
as mortals can glean from the errors and the penitence of others.

Contrasted with the gentle, unfortunate Kilmarnock, the gallant bearing
of Balmerino rises to heroism. One cannot, for the sake of his party,
help regretting that he had not taken a more prominent part in the
councils of the young Chevalier, or held a more distinguished position
in the field. His integrity, his strong sense, and moral courage might
have had an advantageous influence over the wavering, and confirmed the
indecisive. In the field, his would have been the desperate valour which
suits a desperate cause; but his resources were few, and his influence
proportionately small.

The soldier of fortune, driven at an early age from home, sent from
country to country, serving, with little hope of advancement, under
various generals, Balmerino had learned to view life almost as a matter
of indifference, compared with the honest satisfaction of preserving
consistency. His existence had been one of trial, and of banishment from
all domestic pleasures, and in the perils of his youthful days, he had
learned to view it as so precarious, that his final doom came not to him
as a surprise, but seemed merely a natural conclusion of a career of
danger and adventure. His heroism may excite less admiration even than
the resignation of those who had more to lose; but his intrepidity, his
courageous sincerity, his contempt of all display, his carelessness of
himself, and the tender concern which he evinced for others, are
qualities which we should not be _English_ not to appreciate and
venerate. His were the finest attributes of the soldier and the
Jacobite: the firm, unflinching adherence; the enthusiastic loyalty; the
utter repugnance to all compromising; and the lofty disregard of
opinion, which extorted, even from those who endeavoured to ridicule, a
reluctant respect.

For the relentless pretext of what was called justice, which sent this
brave man to his doom, there is no possibility of accounting, except in
the deep party hatred of the Government. Lord Kilmarnock is believed to
have owed his death to the false report industriously spread of his
having treated the English prisoners with cruelty; but no such plea
could injure Balmerino. One dark influence, at that time all powerful at
court, all powerful among the people, denied them mercy;--and the crowds
which witnessed the death of Kilmarnock and of Balmerino, hastened to do
homage to the Duke of Cumberland. Nothing can, in fact, more plainly
show the effect of frequent executions upon the character of a people
than the details of the year 1746. With the inhabitants of London, like
the French at the time of the Revolution, the value of life was lowered;
the indifference to scenes of horror formed a shocking feature in their
conduct. In the great world, jests, and witticisms delighted the
Satellites of power. It was the barbarous fashion to visit Temple Bar
for the purpose of viewing the heads exhibited there; spying glasses
being let out for the ghastly spectacle. And the coarse, unfeeling
invectives of the press prove the general state of the public mind, in
those days, more effectually than any other fact could do:--in the
present times, the cruelty which pursues its victim to the grave would
not be tolerated.

In his latest hours, the chief concern of Lord Kilmarnock seems to have
been for his eldest son, to whom he addressed the following beautiful
letter.


EXTRACT OF THE LATE EARL OF KILMARNOCK'S LETTER TO HIS SON LORD BOYD.

                                "Dated, Tower, 17th of August, 1746.

    "Dear Boyd,

    "I must take this way to bid you farewell, and I pray God may ever
    bless you and guide you in this world, and bring you to a happy
    immortality in the world to come. I must, likewise, give you my last
    advice. Seek God in your youth, and when you are old He will not
    depart from you. Be at pains to acquire good habits now, that they
    may grow up, and become strong in you. Love mankind, and do justice
    to all men. Do good to as many as you can, and neither shut your
    ears nor your purse to those in distress, whom it is in your power
    to relieve. Believe me, you will find more joy in one beneficent
    action; and in your cool moments you will be more happy with the
    reflection of having made any person so, who without your assistance
    would have been miserable, than in the enjoyment of all the
    pleasures of sense (which pall in the using), and of all the pomps
    and gaudy show of the world. Live within your circumstances, by
    which means you will have it in your power to do good to others.
    Above all things, continue in your loyalty to his present Majesty,
    and the succession to the crown as by law established. Look on that
    as the basis of the civil and religious liberty and property of
    every individual in the nation. Prefer the public interests to your
    own, wherever they interfere. Love your family and your children,
    when you have any; but never let your regard to them drive you on
    the rock I split upon; when, on that account, I departed from my
    principles, and brought the guilt of rebellion, and civil and
    particular desolation on my head, for which I am now under the
    sentence justly due to my Prince. Use all your interest to get your
    brother pardoned and brought home as soon as possible, that his
    circumstances, and bad influence of those he is among, may not
    induce him to accept of foreign service, and lose him both to his
    country and his family. If money can be found to support him, I wish
    you would advise him to go to Geneva, where his principles of
    religion and liberty will be confirmed, and where he may stay till
    you see if a pardon can be procured him. As soon as Commodore Burnet
    comes home, inquire for your brother Billie, and take care of him on
    my account. I must again recommend your unhappy mother to you.
    Comfort her, and take all the care you can of your brothers: and may
    God of His infinite mercy, preserve, guide, and comfort you and them
    through all the vicissitudes of this life, and after it bring you to
    the habitations of the just, and make you happy in the enjoyment of
    Himself to all eternity!"


PAPER DELIVERED BY THE LATE EARL OF KILMARNOCK TO MR. FOSTER.

                                      "Sunday, 17th of August, 1746.

    "As it would be a vain attempt in me to speak distinctly to that
    great concourse of people, who will probably be present at my
    execution, I chose to leave this behind me, as my last solemn
    declaration, appealing for my integrity to God, who knows my heart.

    "I bless God I have little fear of temporal death, though attended
    with many outward circumstances of terror; the greatest sting I feel
    in death is that I have deserved it.

    "Lord Balmerino, my fellow-sufferer, to do justice, dies in a
    professed adherence to the mistaken principles he had imbibed from
    his cradle. But I engaged in the Rebellion in opposition to my own
    principles, and to those of my family; in contradiction to the whole
    tenour of my conduct, till within these few months that I was
    wickedly induced to renounce my allegiance, which ever before I had
    preserved and held inviolable. I am in little pain for the
    reflection which the inconsiderate or prejudiced part of my
    countrymen (if there are any such, whom my suffering the just
    sentence of the law has not mollified,) may cast upon me for this
    confession.

    "The wiser, or more ingenious, will, I hope, approve my conduct, and
    allow with me that, next to doing right, is to have the courage and
    integrity to own that I have done wrong.

    "Groundless accusations of cruelty have been raised and propagated
    concerning me; and charges spread among the people of my having
    solicited for, nay, even actually signed orders of general savage
    destruction, seldom issued among the most barbarous nations, and
    which my soul abhors. And that the general temper of my mind was
    ever averse from, and shocked at gross instances of inhumanity, I
    appeal to all my friends and acquaintance who have known me most
    intimately, and even to those prisoners of the King's troops to whom
    I had access, and whom I ever had it in my power to relieve; I
    appeal, in particular, for my justification as to this justly
    detested and horrid crime of cruelty, to Captain Master, of Ross,
    Captain-Lieutenant Luon, and Lieutenant George Cuming of Alter.

    "These gentlemen will, I am persuaded, as far as relates to
    themselves, and as far as has fallen within their knowledge as
    credible information, do me justice; and then, surely my countrymen
    will not load a person, already too guilty and unfortunate, with
    undeserved infamy, which may not only fix itself on his own
    character, but reflect dishonour on his family.

    "I have no more to say, but that I am persuaded, if reasons of
    state, and the demands of public justice had permitted his Majesty
    to follow the dictates of his own royal heart, my sentence might
    have been mitigated. Had it pleased God to prolong my life, the
    remainder of it should have been faithfully employed in the service
    of my justly offended sovereign, and in constant endeavours to wipe
    away the very remembrance of my crime.

    "I now, with my dying breath, beseech Almighty God to bless my
    rightful sovereign, King George, and preserve him from the attacks
    of public and private enemies.

    "May his Majesty, and his illustrious descendants, be so guided by
    the Divine Providence as ever to govern with that wisdom, and that
    care for the public good, as will preserve to them the love of their
    subjects, and secure their right to reign over a free and happy
    people to the latest posterity."

That Lord Boyd reciprocated the affection of his father appears from the
following letter, which he addressed, a few days after the execution of
Lord Kilmarnock, to Colonel Walkinshaw Craufurd, who was then at
Scarborough.

    "My Dear John,

    "I had yours last post, and I don't know in what words to express
    how much I am obliged to you for doing the last duties to my
    unfortunate father; you can be a judge what a loss I have suffered;
    you knew him perfectly well, that he was the best of friends, the
    most affectionate husband, and the tenderest parent. Poor Lady
    Kilmarnock bears her loss much better than I could have imagined;
    but it was entirely owing to her being prepared several days before
    she got the melancholy accounts of it. I shall be here for some
    time, as I have a good deal of business to do in this country; so I
    shall be extremely glad to see you as soon as possible. I am, my
    dear John, your most sincere friend and obedient humble servant,

                                                              BOYD."

    "Kilmarnock (House) August 27th, 1746."

Yet the young nobleman did not, it appears, entirely satisfy the
expectations of those who were interested in his fate, and attached to
his father's memory, as the following extract from a letter written by
Mr. George Rosse, to Colonel Craufurd, shows.[395]

    "Dear Sir,

    "I am favoured with yours of the thirteenth from Scarborough, and
    had the honour of one letter from Lord Boyd since his father's
    execution, and sorry to tell you, it was not wrote in such terms as
    I could show or make any use of. If you had seen him, I dare say it
    would have been otherwise. However, I took the liberty of writing
    with plainness to him, in hopes of drawing from him, what may be
    shown to his honour and to his own immediate advantage.

       *       *       *       *       *

    "I put him in mind of writing to his cousin, Duke of Hamilton, and
    Mr. Home; an omission, which, with submission, is unpardonable, as
    he was apprised of their goodness to his father; and I gave him some
    hints with relation to himself, by authority of the ministry, which,
    if he continue in the army, may be improved upon. Those things I
    think proper to mention to you, as I know your friendship for Boyd,
    that you may take an opportunity of mentioning them to him, when you
    are with him, which I hope will be soon. He is appointed deputy
    Captain-Lieutenant; but that I look upon as a step to higher
    preferment. I should like to hear from you; direct to (Crawfurdland)
    Kilmarnock, and I am, dear sir, your most obedient, humble servant.

                                                       "GEO. ROSSE."

        Leicesterfield,
    September 8th, 1746.

Notwithstanding these seeming acts of negligence, which may possibly
have been explained, Lord Boyd became, in every way, worthy of being
the representative of an ancient race. He was an improved resemblance of
his amiable, unhappy father. Possessing his father's personal
attributes, he added, to the courtesy and kindliness of his father's
character, strength of principle, a perfect consistency of conduct, and
sincere religious connections, both in the early and latter period of
his life. His deportment is said to have combined both the sublime and
the graceful; his form, six feet four inches in height, to have been the
most elegant; his manners the most polished and popular of his time. In
his domestic relations he was exemplary, systematic, yet with the due
liberality of a nobleman, in his affairs; sagacious and conscientious as
a magistrate; generous to his friends. "He puts me in mind," said one
who knew him, "of an ancient hero; and I remember Dr. Johnson was
positive that he resembled Homer's character of Jaspedon."[396] "His
agreeable look and address," observes that adorer of rank, Boswell,
"prevented that restraint, which the idea of his being Lord High
Constable of Scotland might otherwise have occasioned."[397]

At the time of his father's execution, Lord Boyd was only twenty years
of age. He claimed and obtained the maternal estate, and obtained it in
1751. In 1758 he succeeded Mary, Countess of Errol in her own right, his
mother's aunt, as Earl of Errol, and left the army in which he had
continued to serve. He retired to Slains Castle, where he passed his
days in the exercise of those virtues which become a man who is
conscious, by rank and fortune, of a deep responsibility, and who
regards those rather as trusts, than possessions. He died at
Calendar-house, in 1778, universally lamented, and honoured.

The Countess of Kilmarnock survived her husband only one year; and died
at Kilmarnock in 1747. Two sons were, however, left, in addition to Lord
Boyd, to encounter, for some years, considerable difficulties. Of these,
the second, Charles, who was in the insurrection of 1745, escaped to the
Isle of Arran, where he lay concealed, in that, the ancient territory of
the Boyds, for a year. He amused himself, having found an old chest of
medical books, with the study of medicine and surgery, which he
afterwards practised with some degree of skill among the poor. He then
escaped to France, and married there a French lady; but eventually he
found a home at Slains Castle, where he was residing when Dr. Johnson
and Boswell visited Scotland. He was a man of considerable
accomplishment; but, as Boswell observed, "with a pompousness or formal
plenitude in his conversation," or as Dr. Johnson expressively remarked,
"with too much elaboration in his talk." "It gave me pleasure," adds
Boswell, "to see him, a steady branch of the family, setting forth all
its advantages with much zeal."

William Boyd, the fourth son of Lord Kilmarnock, was in the Royal Navy,
and on board Commodore Burnet's ship at the time of his father's
execution. He was eventually promoted to a company of the 14th foot, in
1761.

Lord Balmerino left no descendants to recall the remembrance of his
honest, manly character. His wife, Margaret Chalmers, survived him
nearly twenty years, and died at Restalrig, on the 24th of August, 1765,
aged fifty-six.

The remains of these two unfortunate noblemen were deposited under the
gallery, at the west end of the chapel in the Tower. Beside them repose
those of Simon, Lord Lovat. "As they were associates in crime, so they
were companions in sepulchre," observes a modern writer, "being buried
in the same grave."[398] But the more discriminative judge of the human
heart will spurn so rash, and undiscerning a remark; and marvel that, in
the course of one contest, characters so differing in principle, so
unlike in every attribute of the heart, and viewed, even by their
enemies, with sentiments so totally opposite, should thus be mingled
together in their last home.

FOOTNOTES:

[316] Wood's Peerage.

[317] Who, adds the same authority, carried azure, a fess chequé, argent
and gules: and for their crest, a hand issuing out of a wreath, pointing
with the thumb and two fingers: motto, _confido_; supporters, two
squirrels collared or.

[318] Reay, 203.

[319] Reay, 203.

[320] Wood's Peerage. The defect of the title is the failure of issue
male. The title of Livingstone was considered by the same authority as
untouched.

[321] Ibid.

[322] Lockhart Papers, i. 138. Note. Calendar.

[323] Memoirs of Lord Kilmarnock. London, 1746, p. 19.

[324] Memoirs of the Earl of Kilmarnock, p. 20.

[325] MS. Letter presented to me by Mrs. Howison Craufurd, of
Craufurdland Castle, Ayrshire.

[326] Memoirs of Lord Kilmarnock, p. 21.

[327] Horace Walpole's Letters, ii. p. 113.

[328] Foster's Account, p. 11.

[329] Grose, 214.

[330] Memoirs of Lord Kilmarnock, p. 23.

[331] Life of Colonel Gardiner, by Dr. Doddridge, _passim_.

[332] Doddridge. Life of Colonel Gardiner, p. 155.

[333] Henderson, p. 130.

[334] State Trials of George II.

[335] Maxwell, p. 60.

[336] Forbes's Account, p. 20.

[337] Maxwell, p. 50. This Nobleman was at the battle of Culloden.

[338] Henderson, p. 332.

[339] Henderson, p. 130.

[340] Note in Chambers, p. 89.

[341] History of the Rebellion, from the Scots' Magazine, p. 198.

[342] Chambers, p. 89. Henderson, p. 334.

[343] Observations on the Account of the Behaviour of Lords Kilmarnock
and Balmerino, 1746.

[344] Ibid.

[345] Nesbitt, Heraldry, vol. i. p. 154.

[346] "Elphingstone, in the shire of Hadington, and in the parish of
Tranent, a village at the distance of three miles S.S.W. from
Tranent."--Edinburgh Gazetteer.

[347] Nesbitt, p. 154.

[348] Memoirs of Lord Balmerino. London, 1764.

[349] Wood's Peerage.

[350] Life of Lord Balmerino, p. 51. Buchan's Account of the Earls of
Keith, p. 149.

[351] Scots' Magazine for 1746.

[352] Scots' Magazine for 1746.

[353] Georgian Era.

[354] Wood's Peerage.

[355] Maxwell, p. 59.

[356] Georgian Era.

[357] State Trials, vol. xviii.

[358] Edinburgh Gazetteer. Art. "South Leith."

[359] History of the Rebellion from the Scots' Magazine, p. 302.

[360] Horace Walpole's Letters to Sir Horace Mann, vol. ii. p. 160.

[361] Georgian Era.

[362] Ibid.

[363] State Trials, vol. xviii. p. 466.

[364] Observations on the Account, &c., p. 23.

[365] Horace Walpole, vol. ii. p. 163

[366] Ibid. vol. ii. p. 115.

[367] Horace Walpole.

[368] See Scots' Magazine for 1746.

[369] State Trials.

[370] State Trials.

[371] Note. The plea was couched in these words: "July 29th, 1746. It is
conceived that the late Act of Parliament, empowering his Majesty to
transport such as are taken in arms from one county to another, where
they may be tried by the course of the common law, did not take place
till after that time, that the facts implying treason, were actually
committed by the accused prisoners, and if so, the Grand Jury of Surrey,
or of any other county whatsoever, where these acts of treason are not
alleged to have been committed, could not, agreeable to law, find bills
against such prisoners; and it may, on that score, be prayed, That the
indictment be quashed, or that an arrest of judgment be thereupon
granted." What a bitter, though unavailing feeling of regret accompanies
the reflection that this benevolent attempt to save the lives of these
brave men, was fruitless.

[372] Letters to Sir H. Mann, vol. ii. p. 167.

[373] State Trials 18, p. 502.

[374] H. Walpole, p. 31. Letters to G. Montagu.

[375] Walpole's Letters to Montagu, p. 29. Folio.

[376] Letters to Sir H. Mann, vol. ii. p. 167.

[377] State Trials, by Hargreaves, pp. 18, 502.

[378] Memoirs of the Earl of Kilmarnock and Cromartie, and of Lord
Balmerino, 1746.

[379] Life of Lord Cromartie, 1746.

[380] Buchan's Memoirs of the House of Keith, p. 143.

[381] Walpole's Letters to Sir H. Mann, vol. ii. p. 171.

[382] Foster's Account, p. 87.

[383] For a copy of this letter I am indebted to the kindness of Mrs.
Craufurd of Craufurdland Castle, Kilmarnock. The original is in the
possession of Martin Paterson, Esq. of Kilmarnock, and is endorsed "Copy
of the last Instructions of Lord Kilmarnock to his factor, Mr. Robert
Paterson."

[384] Statement.

[385] Statement.

[386] Mrs. Howison Craufurd, the lady of William Howison Craufurd, Esq.,
of Craufurdland Castle, Ayrshire. To this Lady I am indebted for much of
the information (afforded by her admirable letters) which has been
introduced into this Memoir of Lord Kilmarnock. To this lady I addressed
an inquiry respecting an original portrait of Lord Kilmarnock. Her
efforts to obtain any intelligence of one have been wholly unavailing;
and we have been led to the conclusion that, in the fire at Dean Castle,
all the portraits of Lord Kilmarnock must have been destroyed; his
resemblance, his name, his honour, and his Castle thus becoming extinct
at once. At Craufurdland Castle there is a fine portrait of Lord
Kilmarnock's brother, his widow and daughter, painted in oils, after a
singular fashion, black and white; giving it a ghastly hue. This perhaps
accounts for the local tradition near Kilmarnock, "that on hearing of
his brother's death, Mr. Boyd's colour fled, and never returned; nor was
he ever seen to smile again." A tradition not difficult of belief.

The present Mr. Craufurd, of Craufurdland Castle, represents also the
family of Howison of Bræ-head. In Mrs. Howison Craufurd's family an
amusing circumstance relative to Lord Lovat occurred. He was one evening
in a ball-room, and was paying court to the great-grandmother of that
lady. As he was playfully examining, and holding in his hand her diamond
solitaire, a voice whispered in his ear, "that Government officers were
in pursuit of him; and that he must decamp." Decamp he did, taking with
him, _perhaps_ by accident, the costly jewel. The young lady was in the
greatest trepidation, and her family were resolved to recover the
ornament. Many years after, on his return from France, Lovat, whose
character, in _no_ respect, rose above suspicion, was taxed with the
robbery, and refunded a sum which gave twenty pounds to each of a host
of granddaughters, then in their girlhood.

[387] In a letter from Mrs. Craufurd of Craufurdland to the author, this
fact is stated. It is mentioned as traditionary elsewhere, but is
attested by the family.

[388] H. Walpole, vol. ii. p. 167.

[389] H. Walpole's Letters to Mr. Montagu.

[390] Foster's Account, p. 31.

[391] Walpole.

[392] Ford's Account in State Trials, p. 18, 522.

[393] For the original of Lord Balmerino's real speech, which is highly
characteristic of its author, I am indebted to Charles Kirkpatrick
Sharpe, Esq.

    "I was brought up in true, loyal, and anti-revolution principles and
    I hope the world is convinced that they stuck to me. I must
    acknowledge I did a very inconsiderate thing, for which I am
    heartily sorry, in accepting a company of Foot from the Princess
    Anne, who I know had no more right to the Crown than her predecessor
    the Prince of Orange.... To make amends for what I had done I joined
    the ... (Pretender) when he was in Scotland in 1715, and when all
    was over I made my escape, and lived abroad till the year 1734.

    "In the beginning of that year I got a letter from my father which
    very much surprised me; it was to let me know he had a promise of a
    remission for me. I did not know what to do; I was then, (I think,)
    in the canton of Berne, and had nobody to advise with: but next
    morning I wrote a letter to the ... (Pretender) who was then at
    Rome, to acquaint the ... (Pretender) that this was come without my
    asking or knowledge, and that I would not accept of it without his
    consent. I had in answer to mine, a letter written with ... (The
    Pretender's) own hand, allowing me to go home; and he told me his
    banker would give me money for my travelling charges when I came to
    Paris, which accordingly I got. When the ... (the Pretender's son)
    came to Edinburgh I joined him, though I might easily have excused
    myself from taking arms on account of my age; but I never could have
    had peace of conscience if I had stayed at home.... I am at a loss
    when I come to speak of the ... (Pretender's son,) I am not a fit
    hand to draw his character, I shall leave that to others. (Here he
    gives a fulsome character of the Pretender's son.)

    "Pardon me if I say, wherever I had the command, I never suffered
    any disorders to be committed, as will appear by the Duke of
    Buccleugh's servants at East Park; by the Earl of Findlater's
    minister, Mr. Lato, and my Lord's servant, A. Cullen; by Mr. Rose,
    minister at Nairn, (who was pleased to favour me with a visit when I
    was prisoner at Inverness;) by Mr. Stewart, principal servant to the
    Lord President at the House of Culloden; and by several other
    people. All this gives me great pleasure, now that I am looking upon
    the block on which I am ready to lay down my head; and though it
    would not have been my own natural inclination to protect everybody,
    it would have been my interest to have done it for ... (the
    Pretender's son) abhorred all those who were capable of doing
    injustice to any.... I have heard since I came to this place, that
    there has been a most wicked report spread, and mentioned in several
    of the newspapers that ... (the Pretender's son) before the battle
    of Culloden, had given out orders that no quarter should be given to
    the enemy. This is such an unchristian thing, and so unlike ... (the
    Pretender's son,) that nobody (the Jacobites) that knows him will
    believe it. It is very strange if there had been any such orders,
    that neither the Earl of Kilmarnock, who was Colonel of the regiment
    of the Foot Guards, nor I, who was Colonel of the second troop of
    Life Guards, should ever have heard anything of it; especially since
    we were both at the head-quarters the morning before the battle; I
    am convinced that it is a malicious report industriously spread
    to....

    "Ever since my confinement in the Tower, when Major White or Mr.
    Fowler did me the honour of a visit, their behaviour was always so
    kind and obliging to me that I cannot find words to express it; but
    I am sorry I cannot say the same thing of a General Williamson: he
    has treated me barbarously, but not quite so ill as he did the
    Bishop of Rochester; and had it not been for a worthy clergyman's
    advice, I should have prayed for him in the words of David, Psalm
    109, from the 6th to the 15th verse. I forgive him and all my
    enemies. I hope you will have the charity to believe I die in peace
    with all men; for yesterday, I received the Holy Eucharist from the
    hands of a clergyman of the Church of England, in whose communion I
    die as in union with the Episcopal Church of Scotland.

    "I shall conclude with a short prayer."--(Here a prayer is mentioned
    much the same as in Wm. Ford's account.)

[394] The account which I have given of Lord Kilmarnock's behaviour and
fate, and also of Lord Balmerino's, is taken from the following works,
to which I have not thought it necessary separately to refer. Foster's
Account of the Behaviour of Lord Kilmarnock; and the Vindication of
Foster's Account from the misrepresentations of some Dissenting
Teachers: London, 1746. Account by T. Ford, Under-Sheriff at the
Execution, in the State Trials, vol. xviii. p. 325. Horace Walpole's
Letters to Geo. Montagu, and to Sir H. Mann. Scots' Magazine for 1746;
and Buchan's Life of Marshal Keith; also a Collection of Tracts in the
British Museum, relating to the Rebellion, 1746, and chiefly published
during that year.

[395] For both these letters, hitherto unpublished, I am indebted for
the courtesy of Mrs. Craufurd of Craufurdland Castle.

[396] Forbes's Life of Beattie, vol. ii. p. 351.

[397] Journey to the Hebrides, p. 108

[398] Bayley's History of the Tower, p. 122.




CHARLES RADCLIFFE.


The fate of Charles Radcliffe has been regarded as one of the most
severe, and his death as one of the most unjustifiable acts inflicted on
those who suffered for their adherence to the Stuart cause.

This unfortunate man was the third son of Francis Earl of Derwentwater,
by the Lady Mary Tudor, the daughter of Charles the Second, and was born
in 1693. He was the younger brother of James Earl of Derwentwater, who
suffered in 1716, for his adherence to the Stuart cause. There was also
another elder brother, Francis, who died unmarried, not taking any
apparent interest in the politics of the day.

The family of Radcliffe were not regarded by the descendants of their
common ancestor, Charles the Second, in the light of kindred whom the
rules of decorum, and the usages of society might induce them to
disclaim, or at all events, to acknowledge with shame or reluctance; the
vitiated notions of the day attached a very different value to the
parentage of royalty, even when associated with dishonour. The marriage
of Sir Francis Radcliffe to the daughter of Mary Davis was that event
which procured his elevation to the peerage; and this alliance, was
considered as elevating the dignity of an ancient house.[399] The
closest ties of friendship united the Stuarts and the Radcliffes, even
from their earliest infancy. Educated, as well as his elder brother,
James, chiefly at St. Germains, and with the Chevalier James Stuart, and
brought up in the Roman Catholic faith, Charles Radcliffe, owing to the
natural ardour of his disposition, imbibed much more readily than his
brother the strong party views which characterized the Jacobites as a
body.

In James, Earl of Derwentwater, the convictions of his faith, grounded
as they are upon the belief of those great truths common to all
Christians, worked healthfully; expanding the benevolence of his heart,
teaching him mercy, moderation, and forbearance. On Charles, impetuous,
zealous, stronger in intellect than his brother, but devoid of prudence,
the same mode of culture, the same precepts acted differently. He
became, even in early life, violent in his opinions, until the horror of
what he deemed error, amounted to bigotry. Henceforth his destiny was
swayed by those fierce resentments towards the opposite party by which
not only his brother, but even the Chevalier himself, seem to have been
so rarely actuated; a remarkable degree of moderation and candour
raising the character of James Stuart, whilst Lord Derwentwater was the
gentlest of opponents, the most honourable of foes.

In early life Charles Radcliffe appears to have been chiefly dependent
upon his brother's kindness and bounty; whilst his pursuits and
inclinations, characterized in a letter by Lord Derwentwater as his
"pleasures," were of an expensive description. But it was not long
before other causes of concern besides want of money, or a love of
dissipation began to disquiet those who were interested in the welfare
of the Radcliffe family. About the year 1710, the young Earl of
Derwentwater returned from the continent to his patrimonial property at
Dilstone, in Northumberland, accompanied by his brother Francis, and by
Charles who either frequently visited him, or wholly resided with him at
his seat. During this period of the life of Charles Radcliffe, an
insight into the general state of the family is afforded by several
letters, addressed by the Earl of Derwentwater to Lady Swinburne of
Capheaton, whom he styles his "cousin." The relationship between these
families originated in the marriage of Mrs. Lawson, daughter of Sir
William Fenwick of Meldon, after the death of her first husband, with
Francis, first Earl of Derwentwater, and grandfather of James Radcliffe,
and of his brothers. Mrs. Lawson's daughter, Isabel, married Sir John
Swinburne of Capheaton who was rescued from a singular fate by one of
the Radcliffe family. When a child, he was sent to a monastery in
France, where a member of that family accidentally saw him, and
observing that he resembled the Swinburnes in Northumberland, he
inquired his name, and how he came there? To these questions, the monks
answered that they knew not his name; a sum of money was sent annually
from England to defray his expenses; but of all other particulars they
were wholly ignorant. On investigating the matter, it was found,
however, that the child had been taught that his name was Swinburne; and
that circumstance, coupled with the mysterious disappearance of the heir
of that family from Northumberland induced the superior of the convent
to permit his return home, where he identified himself to be the son of
John Swinburne and of Jane Blount, by the description which he gave of
the marks of a cat, and of a punchbowl, which were still in the
house.[400] He was afterwards advanced by Charles the Second to the
dignity of a baronet.

To Mary, the daughter of Anthony Englefield, of Whiteknights, Berks, and
wife of Sir William Swinburne, of Capheaton, the son of that man whose
childhood has so romantic a story associated with it, the following
letters are addressed. Of these, the first is written by the celebrated
John Radcliffe, Physician to Queen Anne. Dr. Radcliffe was probably a
distant relation of the family, although no distinctive trace of that
connection appears: he was a native of Wakefield, near Yorkshire; but
when these letters were written, he had attained the highest eminence in
his profession that could be secured by one man; and was in the
possession of wealth which he eventually employed in the foundation of
the Radcliffe Library, at Oxford.[401] The "Mr. Radcliffe" to whom he
refers, and to whose malady his skill was called upon to administer, was
Colonel Thomas Radcliffe, the uncle of Lord Derwentwater: the patient
was at the time suffering from mental delusion, in consequence of a
fever.


THESE TO SIR WILLIAM SWINBURNE AT CAPHEATON.

                                                       Dec. 6, 1709.

    "Sir,

    "Yours I received, and am very glad to hear that yourself and my
    lady is in so good health. I hope in a short time Mr. Radcliffe will
    be so too. He is recovered; but he had such a severe fever that he
    continues weak still. My Lord Derwentwater and his brother"
    (Francis) "and Mr. Fenwick, are all come safe from Holland, and are
    very well, and we shall drink your health together this night. He
    intends to be with you very speedily in the country. I do not doubt
    that you will extremely like his conversation: for he has a great
    many extraordinary good qualities, and I do not doubt but he will be
    as well beloved as his uncle. My most humble service to your lady
    and the rest of the good family, and I wish you a merry Christmas;
    and that I might be so happy as to take a share of it with you,
    would be a great satisfaction to him who is your most obliged and
    most faithful, humble servant,

                                                   "JOHN RADCLIFFE."

The next letter is from Sir William Swinburne to his lady; in this he
speaks of the pleasure with which Lord Derwentwater had returned to
Dilstone, the seat of his ancestors, which he was, in so few short
years, to forfeit.


TO MY LADY SWINBURNE, AT CAPHEATON.

                                            Beaufort, 7th Feb. 1710.

    "Dear Love!

    "My Lord" (Derwentwater) "is very well pleased with Dilstone, and
    says it answers all that he has heard of it: but is resolved to
    build a new house, though Roger Fenwick told him he thought his
    lordship need not alter a stone of it. Upon Thursday my lord dines
    at Dilstone. Yours for ever,

                                                 "WILLIAM SWINBURNE.

    "P.S. I understand my lord intends to be at Capheaton on Saturday,
    and then upon Tuesday at Witton, and so for Widdrington. My lord's
    leg is a little troublesome; but he intends to hunt the fox
    to-morrow, and it is a rule all to be abed at ten o'clock the night.
    Here is old Mr. Bacon and his son, Mr. Fenwick, of Bywell. My lord
    killed a squirl, and Sir Marmaduke a pheasant or two, and myself
    one, this morning--which is all, &c."

The following letter from Lord Derwentwater, to Lady Swinburne, shows
that the illness which occasioned so much uneasiness was obstinate: it
affords a curious sample of the medical treatment of Dr. Radcliffe, who
kindly, and perhaps wisely, humoured his patient in the desire to go to
Newcastle.

    "I have been just now with my dear uncle, and Jack Thornton was with
    me. He received us very well: but is yet unease about those people
    that disturb him, and he says that he must go down to Newcastle by
    sea, or else he will never get quitte of them. This is an ode fancy;
    but I believe we shall comply with it, for the doctor dous not sime
    very averce to it, and was for sending Joseph back with him; but I
    have taken the horse into my stable, for I feared it mit hurt the
    horse to return so soon. In fin, I fansed Sir William would like the
    value of the horse better than to have him sent back. I have been
    offered eighteen pound. I would have Sir William let me know by the
    next post whether he will have the horse or the money. I shall have
    the honor to whrit to him very soon."

The two following epistles, one from Lady Derwentwater, the other from
the Earl, speak of married happiness, alloyed, not only by the
distempered fancies of an invalid uncle, but by the melancholy accounts
of a brother's behaviour. It does not, however, appear certain which of
the brothers, whether Francis or Charles, was thus alluded to.


FOR THE HONOURABLE LADY SWINEBURNE, JUNIOR, AT CAPHEATON.

                                                 "Hadcross, Aug. 17.

    "I have manny thanks to returne your ladyship for the favour of your
    letter and oblidging congratulations. My Lord Darwenwater's great
    merit and agreable temper makes me think I have all the prospect
    imadgenable of being intierly happy. I desier the favour your
    ladyship will present my humble sarvise to Sir William. My father
    and mother joinse with me in this, and dessiers there complements
    to your ladyship, I beg you will be assured that I am, very much
    madam, your ladyship's most humble servant.

                                                   "A. DARVENWATAR."


FOR MY LADY SWINBURNE, AT THE BLEW BALL, IN ST. JAMES'S PLACE, NEAR ST.
JAMES'S, LONDON.

                                                "Heatherope, Feb. 7.

    "Madam,

    "I fear'd the good news Miechal writ Gibson, might be false; because
    I have not heard anything of it from yourself, nor from my uncle,
    who, I flatter myself, would writ a line to give me so much
    satisfaction: but I hope all my doubts will vanish if your ladyship
    does me the favour to confirm what will be so great a content to us.
    If I could but be sure that my dear uncle avows all his fancys about
    the men he thought spoke to him, to be nothing but the unlucky
    effect of his favour,[402] and that he thinks to come over to manage
    his affairs, will be the most credeble and most kind way of
    proceeding, both as to himself and family, then I shall believe he
    was the same man he was befor, which, if you confirm, will be one of
    the most joyfull and the most unexpected good news that could befall
    your ladyship's humble, obedient servant, and affectionate kindsman,

                                                      "DARWENTWATER.

    "I should have writ to your ladyship sooner, and really can have no
    good excuse: for I should have write to my dear cousen, though my
    head was full of fox-hunting: and though I had a mind to banish out
    of a new-married head some melancholic accounts of my brother's
    behaviour, which I suppose you have had intelligence of, or else of
    my dear wife's second miscarriage, which has been a great affliction
    to us, but I flatter myself with the hope of her having better luck
    another time. She presents her humble service, and so does my Lady
    Webb. I hope Sir William was well, and cosen Jacky, when you heard
    last. My brother Charles has been at Sir Marmeduke Constable's, and
    designs for London. Adieu!"

In May 1714, only one year before the fatal insurrection of 1715 broke
out, the following letter, referring to different members of his family,
was written by the Earl. What a pleasing picture of an affectionate
nature does this correspondence afford.[403]


FOR MY LADY SWINBURNE, JUNIOR, AT CAPHEATON.

                                          "Kathcrosse, May, 6, 1714.

    "Now I write with pleasure to your ladyship, since I hope to be so
    happy as to enjoy your good companie in a few months, I mean
    immediately after York Races, for my two years will be out here the
    tenth of July. Indeed Sir John has behaved himself wonderfully well
    to us quite the holl time, really performing in everything more than
    I could have expected from a man of honnor, as indeed I had reason
    to believe him. My lady is not of so steady a temper; but however,
    we agree very well: and she is mighty fond of my wife, which I take
    very kindly, since as yet we are but one. Never any body could be so
    desirous to goe to the North as my wife is, especially just comming
    from the divertions of London, except your ladyship or myself, who
    longs to be established there, that we may at least be out of the
    way of such inhuman proceedings as we saw, upon all accounts, this
    year at London. My poor dear uncle's case may serve for one
    instance. After getting the better in all the courts, and, that
    lastly, the Lord Chancellor and eleven Judges had given there decree
    in favor of Will. Constable, and my uncle, a factious party, most
    young rakes, have reversed the decree, and given it for Roper, by a
    divition of fifty-three against twenty-three torrys, who were
    resolute enough to appear in a good cause, being forsaken by their
    brethren, who were afraid to be caled favourers of Poperie. I long
    to hear what my uncle will say to this news. If he be well, it will
    nettle him in spite of resignation. Gibson writes word they are at
    Doway; but he does not know when my uncle will sett forwards. I do
    not know where to wish him: for I really don't know how he is. For
    in one letter Gibson writes, he tells me my uncle is as well as ever
    he was in his life; and at the end of the letter he tells me his
    honnor is afraid of being pursude. 'Tis certain my uncle writes in
    another stille than usuall: for, in letters of business he
    continually mentions God Almighty, the Blessed Virgin, and the
    Saints. All I say is, God send him over a comfort to his friends,
    which he must be if he is well. Brother Frank is recovered, but is
    the very same man. Brother Charles is mighty uneasie: he is no
    ritcher, though I doe what I can to help him in his pleasures.

    "Pray my duty to my uncle and aunt, to whom I will write soon, and
    kind services to all other relations.

    "If your ladyship will tell Tom Errington that I have executed the
    leases, and that I wonder cousin Tom Errington is not in for a
    quarter part of Redgroves, and that, supposing there were some such
    valuable reason as my cousin Tom's not being willing to accept of
    it, or having resigned it to one of those mentioned in the lease,
    which by the bye I should take very ill, then that lease of
    Redgrove's may stand good: but otherways I would have the lease
    altered, and my cousin Tom Errington to come in for a quarter part,
    as I promised him he should. In letting him know this, your ladyship
    will oblige your humble and obedient servant and kinsman,

                                                      "DERWENTWATER.

    "My dear wife presents her humble service to your ladyship, and
    desires the same may be made acceptable to all with you. We expect
    Lord Wald and my lady to make my sister happy, who will do the same
    by them."

The felicity which Lord Derwentwater enjoyed was of brief duration.
According to tradition among his descendants, he was urged on to those
steps which ended in his death by the violent counsels of his brother
Charles, whose impetuosity the unfortunate earl often regretted,
expressing, in his private correspondence, how much his rash and
intemperate spirit distressed and alarmed him. Of the progress, and the
principal features of the insurrection of 1715, and of the part which
Lord Derwentwater took in that event, an account has already been
given.[404] "Happy," observes the biographer of Charles Radcliffe, "had
it been for him, happy for his lady, and happy for his family, had the
earl staid at home, and suffered himself to be withheld from that fatal
expedition."[405]

Charles Radcliffe was at that time twenty-two years of age; he had no
experience in military affairs, but was full of spirit and courage,
ready to offer himself for every daring, and even hopeless enterprise,
and seeming to set no value on his life where honour was to be won. Such
a character soon became popular with the leaders of the movement in the
north; and Lord Derwentwater gave the conduct of his tenantry into his
brother's hands, Captain Shaftoe commanding under Mr. Radcliffe.

The behaviour of this young commander throughout the whole of the
expedition was consistent with this character of intrepidity; but that
which surprised many persons in a man who had never before engaged in
war, was the judgment, as well as courage, which he displayed. And
perhaps, had his counsels been followed, the result of that ill-starred
rising, in which so many brave men perished, might have been less
disastrous to the party whom he espoused. When the insurgents were at
Hexham, and intelligence was brought that General Carpenter was
approaching, Mr. Radcliffe proposed that the Jacobite troops should go
out and fight the English before they had recovered from their long
march; but his opinion was overruled. His was that description of mind
which gleans much from observation; he studied the countenances of those
around him, and formed his own conclusion of their characters. When any
false alarm happened to be given that the king's troops were near, it
was his practice, undaunted himself, to watch the countenances of his
officers, when they were ordered to head their corps, and march against
the enemy. Some of them, he observed, turned pale, and looked half-dead
with fear; the eyes of others flashed with fire and fury: on these, he
was certain that a dependence might be placed in the time of action,
whilst he forbore from placing the others in any post of responsibility.
Nor were his own party the only subjects of his curiosity. Until this
eventful period of his life, he had seen but little of the world, "and
now," observes his biographer, "he fancied himself on his travels." He
therefore passed over no object of interest cursorily; at every town he
visited, he inquired what were the customs of the place--what monuments
of celebrated men, or other objects of antiquity were to be found there;
and of these he made written notes; whilst in the council and the camp,
he studied the tempers and passions of men.

When, upon the forces arriving at Hawick, the Highlanders mutinied, and
going to the top of a rising ground declared that they would not stir a
step farther, but would march with Lord Wristoun to the west of
Scotland, Mr. Radcliffe thought their views reasonable, and advocated
the endeavour to strike a bold stroke in Scotland, and to aim at the
entire conquest of that kingdom. His opinion, which events justified,
was overruled, and the leaders of his party were resolute in continuing
their fatal and rash project of proceeding to England. Mr. Radcliffe, on
finding that his representations were ineffectual, begged that he might
have an hundred horse given to him, that with them he might try his
fortune with the Highlanders: this was also denied him, for fear of
weakening the force; and he was constrained to proceed with his
confederates in arms to Preston.

In the action at that place, Mr. Radcliffe behaved with a heroism that
deserved a happier fate. It was a fine sight to behold him and his
brother Lord Derwentwater, endeavouring to animate their men, by words
and example, and maintaining their ground with unequalled bravery,
obliging the king's forces to retire. During the action Mr. Radcliffe
encountered the utmost danger, standing in the midst of the firing, and
doing as much duty as the lowest soldiers in the ranks. But his life was
spared only to encounter a more disastrous termination, after a long and
wearisome exile. When, being invested on all sides by the enemy, the
insurgents proposed a capitulation, the gallant young man exclaimed,
"that he would rather die, with his sword in his hand, like a man of
honour, than be dragged to the gallows, there to die like a dog." These
exclamations fell unheeded; and he was obliged to submit with the rest;
soon afterwards, this fine, high-spirited youth, was carried to Newgate,
there to await his trial, in company with his companions in error and
misfortune.

In Newgate, Mr. Radcliffe witnessed a scene of desperation, accompanied
with the ordinary circumstances of licentiousness, and reckless misery,
which, unchecked by adequate regulations, the prisons of that day
afforded. Until after the execution of Lord Derwentwater and of Lord
Kenmure had taken place, hopes of a reprieve sustained the unhappy
prisoners in Newgate, and, "flaunting apparel, venison pasties," wine,
and other luxuries, for which they paid an enormous price, were the
ordinary indulgences of those who were incarcerated in that crowded
receptacle.[406]

Contributions were made from many different quarters for the prisoners;
and the friends of the "rebels" were observed to be also very generous
to the turnkeys. Numbers of ladies visited the prison, and a choice of
the most expensive viands was daily proffered by the lavish kindness of
their fair enthusiasts. Of course much scandal followed upon the steps
of this dangerous and costly kindness; and escapes were facilitated,
perhaps, not without connivance on the part of Government. On the
fourteenth of March an attempt was made by some of these unfortunate
people to get out of the press-yard, by breaking through a part of the
wall, from which they were to be let down by a rope; but they were
discovered, and, in consequence, heavily ironed. Nevertheless, on the
twenty-third of March almost all of the prisoners were released from
their fetters, an indulgence which was a proof of the lenity of the
Government, as the ordinary keepers of the prison would not have dared
to have allowed it.[407] After this, Mr. Forster and others amused
themselves with the game of shuttlecock, at which, relates the author of
the Secret History of the Rebels in Newgate, the "valiant Forster beat
every one who engaged him: so that he triumphed with his feathers in the
prison, though he could not do it in the field." On the tenth of April
that gentleman made his escape: and henceforth, a lieutenant, with
thirty of the Foot Guards, was ordered to do constant duty at Newgate.
Meantime, crowded as the building was, a spotted fever broke out, and
seemed likely to relieve the civil authorities from no small number of
the unfortunate prisoners.

On the eighth of May, Mr. Radcliffe was arraigned at the Exchequer Bar,
at Westminster, for High Treason: to this he pleaded not guilty. In a
few days afterwards he was brought there again, and tried upon the
indictment; he had no plea to offer in his defence, and was found
guilty.

He soon afterwards was carried to Westminster, accompanied by eleven
other prisoners, to receive sentence of death. They were conveyed in six
coaches to the Court. As the coach in which Mr. Radcliffe was seated,
drove into Fleet Street, it encountered the state carriage in which
George the First, who was then going to Hanover for the first time
since his accession, was driving. This obliged Mr. Radcliffe's coach to
stop; and, perceiving that he was opposite to a distiller's shop, he
called for a pint of aniseed, which he and a fellow-prisoner, with a
servant of Newgate, drank, and then proceeded to Westminster.

Mr. Radcliffe was several times reprieved; and it was thought he might
have been pardoned; but affrighted, perhaps, by his brother's fate, and
probably weary of imprisonment, he now began to project a plan of
escape, to which he was emboldened by the great success of several
similar attempts. Greater vigilance was, indeed, resorted to in the
prison, after the flight of Brigadier Mackintosh, who had knocked down
the turnkey, and ran off through the streets: and all cloaks,
riding-hoods, and arms, were prohibited being brought in by the visiters
who came to visit the prisoners. It is amusing to hear, that a certain
form of riding-hoods acquired, at this time, the name of a Nithsdale, in
allusion to the escape of the Earl of Nithsdale.[408]

On the day appointed for Mr. Radcliffe's escape, the prisoners gave a
grand entertainment in Newgate: this took place in a room called the
Castle, in the higher part of the prison. Mr. Radcliffe, when the party
were at the highest of their mirth, observing a little door open in the
corner of the room, passed through it followed by thirteen of the
prisoners; and succeeded in finding their way, unmolested, to the
debtor's side, where the turnkey, not knowing them, and supposing them
to be visiters to the prisoners, allowed them to pass on. Mr. Radcliffe
was dressed in mourning, and had, according to his own subsequent
account to a fellow prisoner in Newgate, a "brown tye-wig." In this way,
without any disguise, but wearing his ordinary attire, did he escape,
leaving within the prison walls, his friend, Basil Hamilton, nephew of
the Duke of Hamilton, who, as it was deposed on his trial, was his chum,
or companion, living with him in a room, the windows of which looked
upon the garden of the College of Physicians. After remaining concealed
for some time, Mr. Radcliffe took the first opportunity of getting a
passage to France.[409] He lived, for many years, in Paris, in great
poverty, tantalized with promises of assistance from the French Court,
yet witnessing the ungenerous treatment of the Chevalier by that Court.
His nephew, John Radcliffe, who was killed accidentally, assisted him
with remittances in 1730 for some time, and James Stuart gave him a
small pension: his difficulties and privations must have been
considerable; yet they never lessened his ardour in the cause for which
he had sacrificed every worldly advantage.

Either to amend his ruined fortunes, or to gratify a passion long
unrequited, Mr. Radcliffe was resolved upon marriage. The object of his
hopes was Charlotte Maria, Countess of Newburgh, the widow of Hugh, Lord
Clifford of Chudleigh, and the mother of two daughters by that nobleman.
This lady was about a year older than himself, being born in 1694. It is
a tradition in the family of Lord Petre, the lineal descendant of
James, Earl of Derwentwater, that Charles Radcliffe offered his hand
twelve times to the Countess of Newburgh, and was as often refused.
Wearied by his importunity, Lady Newburgh at last forbade him the house.
But the daring character of Mr. Radcliffe, and his strong will,
suggested an expedient, and he was resolved to obtain an interview. To
compass this end, he actually descended into an apartment in which the
Countess was sitting, through the chimney; and taking her by surprise,
obtained her consent to an union. Of the truth of this curious
courtship, there is tolerably good evidence, not only in the belief of
the Petre family, but from a picture representing the fact, which is at
Thorndon.[410] The nuptials took place at Brussels, in the church of the
Virgin Mary, on the twenty-fourth of June, 1724,[411] and in 1726, James
Bartholomew, who became, after the death of his mother, third Earl of
Newburgh, was born at Vincennes.[412]

Lady Newburgh had every reason, as far as prudence could be allowed to
dictate to the affections, for her reluctance to a marriage with Mr.
Radcliffe. He was, at this time, an outlawed man, with a sentence of
death passed upon him, and no hope could ever be revived of his
regaining, even after the death of his nephew, the family honours and
estates. Yet, in the ardour and fearlessness of Charles Radcliffe's
character there must have been much to compensate for those
circumstances, and to win the fancy of the young. There seems no reason
to suppose that the union thus strangely formed was infelicitous; and
indeed, from family documents, it is evident that the family so marked
out by fate for sorrow, were happy in their mutual affection. Of the two
daughters of Lady Newburgh's first marriage, Anna, the eldest, was
married to the Count de Mahony, whose descendants, the Gustiniani might
claim the title of Newburgh, were they not debarred by being born
aliens. Another was Frances, who died unmarried. This lady is mentioned
in a letter written by Charles Radcliffe, recently before his death,
when he was confined to the Tower, with peculiar affection, as "that
other tender mother of my dear children."[413]

In the year 1733, Mr. Radcliffe visited England, and resided several
months in Pall Mall; yet the ministry did not consider it necessary to
take any notice of his return, nor, probably, would they ever have
concerned themselves on that subject, had not a second insurrection
brought the unfortunate man into notice. In 1735, he again returned, and
endeavoured by the mediation of friends to procure a pardon, but was
unsuccessful in that attempt.[414]

Irritated, perhaps, by that refusal, and still passionately attached to
the cause which he had espoused; undeterred by the execution of his
brother, or by the sufferings of his friends, from mixing himself in the
turmoils of a second contest, Charles Radcliffe, on the breaking out of
the insurrection of 1745, again ventured his life on the hazard. He had
no lands to lose, no estates to forfeit; but he had all to gain; for the
death of his nephew made him the head of the unfortunate house of
Radcliffe. After that event, he assumed the title of Earl of
Derwentwater, and it was of course assigned to him at the court of St.
Germains, and indeed always insisted upon by him; but the estates were
alienated, and there appeared no hope under the present government of
ever recovering those once enviable possessions. Under these
circumstances, Mr. Radcliffe was naturally a likely object for the
representations of the sanguine, or the intrigues of the designing to
work upon; and in this temper of mind he met, in the year 1743, with
John Murray of Broughton, at Paris, where that gentleman remained three
weeks; and became intimately acquainted with Mr. Radcliffe, who is
described among others, as a "wretched dependant on French pensions,
with difficulty obtained, and accompanied with contempt in the payment."

While the fashionable world were diverting themselves with epigrams upon
the Rebellion, a small expedition was fitted out, consisting of twenty
French officers, and sixty Scotch and Irish, who embarked at Dunkirk on
board the Esperance privateer; among these was Charles Radcliffe and his
eldest son. At this time nothing was spoken of in London except the
daring attempt in Scotland,--sometimes in derision,--sometimes in
serious apprehension: "the Dowager Strafford," writes Horace Walpole
(Sept. 1745), "has already written cards for my Lady Nithesdale, my Lady
Tullebardine, the Duchess of Perth and Berwick, and twenty more revived
peeresses, to invite them to play at whist, Monday three months: for
your part, you will divert yourself with their old taffetys, and
tarnished slippers, and their awkwardness the first day they go to Court
in clean linen."[415] "I shall wonderfully dislike," observes the same
writer, "being a loyal sufferer in a threadbare coat, and shivering in
an attic chamber at Hanover, or reduced to teach Latin and English to
the young princes at Copenhagen. Will you ever write to me in my garret
at Herenhausen? I will give you a faithful account of all the promising
speeches that Prince George and Prince Edward make whenever they have a
new sword, and intend to reconquer England."

One of the first adverse circumstances that befel the Jacobites in 1745,
was the capture of the vessel in which Mr. Radcliffe hoped to reach the
shores of Scotland. It was taken during the month of November by the
Sheerness man-of-war; and Mr. Radcliffe and his son were carried to
London and imprisoned in the Tower.

On the twenty-first of November he was conveyed, under a strong guard
from the Tower, to Westminster; he was brought to the bar, by virtue of
a Habeas Corpus, and the record of his former conviction and attainder
was at the same time removed there by Certiorari. These being read to
him, the prisoner prayed that counsel might be allowed him; and named
Mr. Ford and Mr. Jodrel, who were accordingly assigned to him as
counsel. A few days were granted to prepare the defence, and on the
twenty-fourth of the month the prisoner was again brought up; he
pleaded that he was not the person named in the record, who was
described as Charles Radcliffe, but maintained that he was the Earl of
Derwentwater. He also requested that the trial might be put off, that
two witnesses, one from Brussels, the other from St. Germains, might be
summoned. This was refused. The prisoner then challenged one of the
jury, but that challenge was overruled. During these proceedings the
lofty, arrogant manner, and the vehement language of Mr. Radcliffe drew
from his counsel the remark that he was disordered in his senses. The
judge, Mr. Justice Foster, who tried the case, bore his contemptuous
conduct with great forbearance. When brought into Court, to be
arraigned, he would neither hold up his hand, nor plead, insisting that
he was a subject of France, and appealing to the testimony of the
Neapolitan Minister, who happened to be in Court. But not one of these
objections was allowed, and the trial proceeded.

No fresh indictment was framed, and the point at issue related merely to
the identity of the prisoner. The award in Mr. Radcliffe's case was
agreeable to the precedent in the case of Sir Walter Raleigh, and
execution was awarded on his former offence, judgment not being again
pronounced, having been given on the former arraignment. This mode of
proceeding might be law, but no one after the lapse of thirty years, and
the frequent communications of the prisoner with the English Government,
can regard such a proceeding as _justice_: and, as in the case of Sir
Walter Raleigh, it brought odium upon the memory of James the First, so
it excited in the reign of George the Second almost universal
commiseration for the sufferer, and disgust at the course adopted.

The evidence in this case was far from being such as would be accepted
in the present day.

Two Northumberland men were sworn to the fact that the prisoner at the
bar was the younger brother of the Earl of Derwentwater, and that they
had seen him march out from Hexham, in Northumberland, at the head of
five hundred of Lord Derwentwater's tenantry; they recognized him, as
they declared, by a scar on his face; they had been to see him in the
Tower, to refresh their memories, and could swear to him, as Charles
Radcliffe, brother of the Earl of Derwentwater. After this deposition,
Roger Downs, a person who had acted in the capacity of barber to the
State prisoners, in 1715, was called.

To him Mr. Radcliffe thus addressed himself:[416] "I hope, sir, you have
some conscience; you are now sworn, and take heed what you say."

To this Downs replied; "I shall speak nothing but the truth. I well
remember that I was appointed close shaver at Newgate, in the year 1715
and 1716, when the rebels were confined there, and shaved all those who
were close confined."

The Counsel then asked, "Pray, sir, did you shave Charles Radcliffe,
Esquire, the late Earl of Derwentwater's brother, who was confined in
Newgate for being concerned in the rebellion in the year 1715, or who
else did you shave of the said rebels at that time? And pray, sir, who
was keeper, or who were turnkeys of the said gaol of Newgate."

The answer of Downs was couched in these words, "William Pitt, Esq. was
head keeper, and Mr. Rouse, and Mr. Revel, were head turnkeys, who
appointed my master to be barber, to shave the prisoners; and I attended
in my master's stead, and used to go daily to wait on the rebel
prisoners, and I particularly remember that I shaved Basil Hamilton, a
reputed nephew of the late Duke of Hamilton, and Charles Radcliffe,
Esq., brother to the late Earl of Derwentwater, who I perfectly remember
were chums, or companions, in one room, in the press-yard, in Newgate,
that looked into the garden of the College of Physicians, and for which
service I was always very well paid."

The Counsel then desired him to look at the prisoner and inform the
Court if that gentleman were the very same Charles Radcliffe that he
shaved in Newgate, at the aforesaid time, and who after escaped out of
Newgate.

To this Downs returned the following reply: "I cannot on my oath say he
is."

Then the head keeper of Newgate was called, and he produced the books
belonging to the gaol, wherein were the names of Charles Radcliffe, and
other rebels, who had been condemned, and were respited several times.
This gentleman said, that the books produced then in Court were in the
same condition that he found them: but as to the person of the prisoner
he knew nothing, his confinement having taken place several years before
he belonged to the gaol.

Abraham Mosely, a servant of the head keeper, was then called, but he
was not sworn; another gentleman was afterwards brought to the bar; as
the book was handed to him to be sworn, Mr. Radcliffe, looking earnestly
at him, inquired what book it was that he was going to be sworn upon:
the officer answered it was the New Testament. Mr. Radcliffe replied,
"He is no Christian, and believes neither in God nor devil." The
evidence of this witness, whose name is suppressed, was, however,
received, and it seems not to have been inconsistent with his alleged
character. It was the disclosure of a confidential conversation on the
part of Mr. Radcliffe, who had imparted to the witness in what manner he
had escaped from Newgate in 1715. The witness was asked whether the
prisoner was drunk when he made this confession: he answered that he
was. Then being asked if he were drunk himself, he replied that he never
got drunk; upon which Mr. Radcliffe said hastily, that "some people
would get drunk if at free cost."

The prisoner examining no witnesses, the Chief Justice summed up the
case, and in ten or fifteen minutes the jury, who had retired, brought
in a verdict of guilty. A Rule was then made for the proper writ for the
execution of the prisoner, on the eighth of December, and he was
remanded to the Tower. When informed by the Court of the time fixed for
his doom, Mr. Radcliffe said he wished they had given him a longer time,
that so he might have been able to acquaint some people in France, and
that his brother, the Earl of Morton, and he might "have set out on
their journey together."

The unhappy Mr. Radcliffe returned to his prison. Much has been written
of the arrogance and intemperance of his conduct and language, but much
must be allowed for the subservience of the contemporary writers, as
well as for the irritated feelings of the man. Considering himself as a
nobleman, and meeting with disrespect, and, perhaps, harsh usage, a
quick temper was aggravated almost to madness. To his inferiors the
passion and pride of his character were so offensive that the warders of
the Tower could be scarcely induced to give him their attendance; and
this inconvenience was the more severely felt as a man named McDermont,
who had been his equerry for twenty-three years, was sent to Newgate on
the very day when Mr. Radcliffe entered the Tower.

At the hour of his last earthly trial, this man, whose eventful and
singular life was brought to a close at the age of fifty-three, redeemed
the errors of the last few weeks of anguish, and of bitter
disappointment. He submitted calmly to his doom. The sullen sorrow, and
the intolerable haughtiness of his manner, were exchanged for a
composure, solemn and affecting, and for a courtesy which well became
the brother of Lord Derwentwater.

Between eight and nine on the morning of the eighth of December, the
Sheriff, driving in a mourning coach to the east gate of the Tower,
demanded the prisoner. The gate was opened, and in about ten minutes a
landau, in which Mr. Radcliffe was seated, drove out at the east gate,
towards Little Tower Hill. He was accompanied by the Under-Sheriffs, and
by the officers of the Tower: the landau was surrounded by a party of
Foot Guards, with their bayonets fixed. The street was lined with horse
soldiers, from the iron gate of the Tower, to the scaffold, which was
encompassed also with horse soldiers. At the foot of the stairs of the
scaffold a booth was erected, for the reception of the prisoner.

Like Lord Balmerino, Mr. Radcliffe wore his regimentals, which were
those of the French army; and consisted of a scarlet coat, with gold
buttons, the sleeves faced with black velvet; a scarlet waistcoat,
trimmed with gold lace; and white silk stockings. His hat was encircled
with a white feather.

As the prisoner alighted from the landau, he saw some of his friends
standing near the booth; he paid his compliments to them with the grace
of a well-bred man; and, smiling, asked of the sheriffs, who had
preceded him in the mourning-coach, "if he was to enter the booth?" He
was answered in the affirmative. "It is well," he replied; and he went
in, and there passed about ten minutes in his devotions.

The scaffold had been provided early that morning with a block, covered
with black, a cushion, and two sacks of sawdust; and the coffin of the
unhappy prisoner, also covered with black, was placed on the stage.

Mr. Radcliffe ascended the scaffold with great calmness, and asked for
the executioner. "I am but a poor man," said the unfortunate man, "but
there are ten guineas for you: if I had more, I would give it you; do
your execution so as to put me to the least possible misery." He then
kneeled down, and folding his hands, uttered a short prayer. He arose,
and was then assisted by two of the warders in the last preparations for
his doom, taking off his coat and waistcoat, and substituting for his
wig a white cap. Having taken a respectful leave of the sheriffs, he was
about to kneel down, when it was discovered that it would be necessary
to tuck back the collar of his shirt. That office was performed by the
executioner. Then, after saying a short prayer, and crossing himself
several times, he laid his head upon the block. In less than half a
minute afterwards, he gave the signal, by spreading out his hands: his
head was severed at one blow, and the body fell upon the scaffold. The
executioner, searching his pockets, found in them a silver crucifix, his
beads, and half-a-guinea. No friend attended the man who had been so
long exiled from his own country, on the scaffold; but four undertakers'
men stood, with a piece of red cloth, to receive the head of the
ill-fated Charles Radcliffe. His body, being wrapt in a blanket, was put
into the coffin, with his head, and conveyed to the Nag's Head, in
Gray's Inn Lane, and thence, in the dead of the night, to Mr.
Walmsbey's, North Street, Red Lion Square, whence it was removed to be
interred in the church-yard of St. Giles's-in-the-Fields, where a
neglected stone alone marks his burial-place. The following is the
inscription on the coffin:--"Carolus Radcliffe, comes de Derwentwater,
decollatus, die 8vo. Decembris, 1746, ætatis 53." To this were added the
words, so appropriate to the close of an adventurous life, "Requiescat
in pace."

Desolate as these last hours appear to have been, and uncheered by the
presence of a friend, some tender care was directed to the remains of
the unfortunate sufferer. His head was afterwards sewn on to the body by
a dependant of Lord Petre's family, a woman of the name of Thretfall,
whose grandson, a carpenter, who lived for many years at Ingatestone
Hall, Essex, a seat of Lord Petre's, used to relate to the happier
children of a later generation (the descendants of James, Earl of
Derwentwater), the circumstances, of which he had heard in his
childhood. The Countess of Newburgh was afterwards buried by the side of
her husband; and the sexton of St. Giles's Church, some years since, on
the lid of the coffin giving way, perceived some gold lace in a state of
preservation; so that it seems probable that the blanket in which the
bleeding remains were removed, was superseded by the costly and military
attire worn by the prisoner.

Previous to his death Mr. Radcliffe wrote to his family. His letters,
and all the memorials of his brother, and of himself, have been
sedulously preserved by the family to whom they have descended. Lady
Anna Maria Radcliffe, the only daughter of James, Earl of Derwentwater,
married in 1732, James, eighth Baron Petre, of Writtle, county Essex. A
connexion had already subsisted between the families, a sister of Lord
Derwentwater having married a Petre of the collateral branch, seated at
Belhouse, in Essex, which branch is now extinct.

Lady Anna Radcliffe appears to have entertained the deepest reverence
for her father's memory, and to have held all that belonged to him, or
that related to his fate, sacred. She caused a large mahogany chest to
be made to receive the clothes which he wore on the scaffold, and also
the covering of the block; likewise, a cast of his face taken after
death: and having deposited these relics in the chest, she added a
written paper with her seal and signature, _Anne Petre_, authenticating
the said apparel and documents, and solemnly forbidding any of her
descendants or other persons to make use of the chest for any other
purpose, but "to contain her father's clothes, unless some other
receptacle more costly be by them provided." This box is deposited in a
room at Thorndon Hall, with letters and papers relating both to _James_,
Lord Derwentwater, and to his brother _Charles_.

The eldest son of Mr. Radcliffe, called the Lord Kinnaird, in right of
the Barony of Kinnaird, remained a prisoner in the Tower at the time of
his father's execution; and the uncertainty of that young man's fate
must greatly have added to the distress of his father. In the spring of
1746, he was suffered to return to France, on a cartel, an exchange of
prisoners including him as a native of France. The circumstance to which
the youth owed his long imprisonment, was a report which gained ground
that he was the second son of James Stuart, Henry Benedict, whom the
English political world believed, at that time, to be on the eve of
going to Ireland, and under this impression, the mob followed the young
man as he was conveyed from the vessel to the Tower with insults. Before
returning to France, he was received by the Duke of Richmond, his
mother's relative, with great consideration, and entertained at what
Horace Walpole terms "a great dinner."[417] Such was what the same
author calls the _Stuartism_ in some of the highest circles.

Lord Kinnaird afterwards put in a claim for the reversion of the
Derwentwater estate, but without success, for it had already been sold
by the Commissioners. A scene of iniquitous fraud, in the sale of the
forfeited estate belonging to Lord Derwentwater was afterwards detected
by Lord Gage, for which Dennis Bond, Esquire, and Sergeant Birch,
Commissioners of the sale, were expelled the House.[418] In 1749, an Act
was passed vesting the several estates of James, Earl of Derwentwater in
trustees, for the benefit of Greenwich Hospital; but, out of the funds
thus arising, 30,000_l._ was appropriated to the widowed Countess of
Newburgh, and the interest of the remaining 24,000_l._, was to be paid
to James Bartholomew, Lord Kinnaird, during his life, and after his
death the principal to revert to his eldest son.[419] From the
Chevalier, the widowed Countess of Newburgh received, as the following
letter will shew, much kindness and sympathy; the conduct of James to
his fallen and powerless adherents, appears to have been almost
invariably marked by compassion and generosity. The Countess of Newburgh
survived her husband ten years, during which time the affection of the
Chevalier, and of his sons, for her husband's memory was evinced by
kindness to his widow, as the following letter testifies:--




LADY DERWENTWATER TO THE CHEVALIER DE ST. GEORGE.[420]

    Sir,

    I received the honour of our Majesty's most gracious letter, and beg
    leave to return my grateful thanks. Your Majesty is very good in
    commending my dear Lord who did but his duty: he gave his life most
    willingly for your Majesty's service, and I am persuaded that your
    Majesty never had a subject more attacht to his duty than he was.
    The Prince of Wales and the Duke of York have been so good to show a
    great concern for my loss, and recommended most strongly to the King
    of France my famyly. His Majesty has been most extremely good and
    gracious to them. My son, that was Captain in Dillon's, has now the
    Brevet of Colonel reform'd with appointments of 1800 livres a-year;
    his sisters have 150 livres a-year each of them, with his royal
    promis of his protection of the famyly for ever. The Marquise de
    Mezire, and her daughter the Princess de Monteban have been most
    extremely friendly to my famyly in this affair.

    I am, your Majesty's most dutyfull subject,

                                             CHARLOTTE DERWENTWATER.
        St. Germains,
    February, ye 10th, 1747.

Of the Countess's two younger sons, one, James Clement Radcliffe, an
officer in the French service, survived till 1788, the other, who bore
his father's name, Charles, died in 1749. Three of her daughters died
unmarried, but Lady Mary, the fourth, married Francis Eyre, Esq., of
Walworth Castle, Northamptonshire. On the failure of the issue of three
sons, in 1814 the title of Newburgh passed into the family of Eyre
through the marriage of the above Mary, and devolved upon Francis Eyre,
the grandson of Charlotte Countess of Newburgh, and of Charles
Radcliffe, father of the present Earl of Newburgh.

By the marriage of Lady Anne Radcliffe, the only daughter of James, Earl
of Derwentwater, in 1732, to Robert James, eighth Baron Petre, the
present Lord Petre is the rightful representative of that attainted
nobleman, being the third in direct descent from Lady Anne Radcliffe,
whose only brother, John,[421] was killed accidentally abroad, having
never been married.[422]

In concluding this account of the unfortunate Charles Radcliffe, a
reflection naturally arises in the mind, how different would have been
the spirit of administration in the present day to that which the
government of that period displayed:--how great would have been the
horror of shedding the blood of honourable and valiant men; how
universal the sentiment of mournful commiseration; and how strong the
conviction, that men, so true to an ill fated cause, would have been
faithful to any engagements which required them to abandon their efforts
in that cause; had clemency, but too imperfectly understood in those
turbulent and merciless times, excited their gratitude, and for ever
ensured their fidelity.

FOOTNOTES:

[399] "Genuine and Impartial Memoirs of the Life and Character of
Charles Radcliffe, wrote by a Gentleman of the Family, (Mr. Eyre,) to
prevent the public being imposed on by any erroneous or partial
accounts, to the prejudice of this unfortunate gentleman." London,
printed for the Proprietor, and sold by E. Cole, 1746.

[400] Hodgson's Hist. of Northumberland, vol. ii. p. 227, note.

[401] Ibid. p. 233.

[402] Fever.

[403] At Thorndon, the seat of Lord Petre, in Norfolk, are other
original letters of Lord Derwentwater, referring to his wife. In most
touching terms he thanks the mother of Lady Derwentwater for having
"given her to him." This, and other interesting documents, are highly
prized, and consequently carefully preserved by the ancient and noble
family to whom they have descended.

[404] See Life of Lord Derwentwater, vol. i.

[405] Ibid. 14.

[406] Secret History of the Rebels in Newgate, 3rd edition, London,
1716.

[407] Ibid. p. 8.

[408] Secret History.

[409] State Trials.

[410] For this anecdote, and also for a considerable portion of the
materials of this Memoir, I am indebted to the great kindness and
intelligence of the Hon. Mrs. Douglas, daughter of the present Lord
Petre.

[411] Wood's Peerage.

[412] MS. Letter.

[413] I must again refer to the information supplied by the Hon. Mrs.
Douglas.

[414] Life of Charles Radcliffe, p. 25.

[415] Letter to G. Montagu, p. 18.

[416] State Trials; quoted from the Impartial History of the late
Charles Radcliffe, written at the time.

[417] Letter to Sir H. Mann, vol. ii. p. 140.

[418] A review of the reign of Geo. II. London. 1762.

[419] Douglas's Peerage, Edit. by Wood.

[420] Brown's Hist. Highlands, (Stuart Papers, Appendix) page 491.

[421] In my first volume, I have stated that the Earl of Newburgh was
the direct representative of James Earl of Derwentwater. (See p. 280,
vol. i.) Into this error I was betrayed by an obscure passage in Burke's
Extinct Peerage.

I am indebted to the Hon. Mrs. Douglass, to whom I have before expressed
my obligations, for a correction of this mistake, and also for the copy
of the pedigree in the Appendix. This lady has also explained the reason
why so many accounts have stated that the body of James Earl of
Derwentwater was interred in St. Giles's Church-yard. His body was
privately removed to Dagenham Park, in Essex, a house his Countess had
hired in order to be near London. A report, meanwhile, was circulated by
his friends that he had been buried in St. Giles's; and, when no further
danger of tumult was to be apprehended, the remains of the Earl were
deposited with his ancestors in the vaults of the chapel at Dilstone.

The mother of the present Mr. Howard, of Corby Castle, and sister of Sir
Thomas Neave, Bart., has often related to her young relations, that when
she and her sisters were children, they were afraid to pass at night
along the gallery at Dagenham, it being popularly supposed that Lord
Derwentwater still walked there, carrying his head under his arm. This
must have been, at least, seventy years after his death.

[422] See Appendix, No. 2, also note.




APPENDIX

No. I.


This letter was addressed by the Rev. Joseph Spence, author of
"Polymetus," and of "Spence's Anecdotes," and prebend of Durham, to his
father, who had forbidden him to enter into the society of the
Chevalier, at Rome.

The Rev. Joseph Spence left this letter, with other MSS. and books, to
the late Mrs. Coltman, mother of Samuel Coltman, Esq., of Darley Dale.
It is not dated, but undoubtedly refers to the Chevalier, James Stuart.

    "Sir,

    "About a month ago, Mr. ---- and I being in search of some of the
    antiquities of your place, we became acquainted with an English
    gentleman, very knowing in this kind of learning, and who proved of
    great use to us; his name is Dr. Cooper, a priest of the Church of
    England, whom we did not suspect to be of the Pretender's retinue,
    but took him to be a curious traveller, which opinion created in me
    a great liking for his conversation. On Easter eve, he made us the
    compliment, that as he supposed us bred in the profession of the
    said Church, he thought it incumbent on him to invite us to divine
    service, next day being Easter Sunday. Such language, at Rome,
    appeared to me a jest. I stared at the Doctor, who added that the
    Pretender (whom he called king), had prevailed with the late pope,
    to grant licence for having divine service according to the rules
    of the Church of England, performed in his palace, for the benefit
    of the Protestant gentlemen of his suite, his domestics, and
    travellers; and that Dr. Berkley and himself were appointed for the
    discharge of this duty; and that prayers were read as ordinarily
    here as in London. I should have remained of St. Thomas's belief,
    had I not been a witness that this is a matter of fact, and as such,
    have noted it down, as one of the greatest wonders of Rome. This was
    the occasion of my first entrance into the Pretender's house: I
    became acquainted with both the Doctors, who are sensible, well-bred
    men. I put several questions to them about the Pretender, and, if
    credit can be given them, they assure me he is a moral, upright man,
    being far from any sort of bigotry, and most averse to disputes and
    distinctions of religion, whereof not a word is admitted in his
    family. They described him in person very much to the resemblance of
    King Charles II., which they say he approaches more and more every
    day, with a great application to business, and a head well turned
    that way, having only some clerks, to whom he dictates such letters
    as he does not write with his own hand. In some days after, my
    friend and I went to take the evening air, in the stately park
    called Villa Ludovici, there we met, face to face, on a sudden, with
    the Pretender, his Princess, and court; we were so very close before
    we understood who they were, that we could not retreat with decency,
    common civility obliged us to stand side-ways in the alley, as
    others did, to let them pass by. The Pretender was easily
    distinguished by his star and garter, as well as by his air of
    greatness, which discovered a majesty superior to the rest. I felt
    at that instant of his approach, a strange convulsion in body and
    mind, such as I never was sensible of before, whether aversion, awe,
    or respect occasioned it, I can't tell: I remarked his eyes fixed on
    me, which, I confess, I could not bear--I was perfectly stunned, and
    not aware of myself, when, pursuant to what the standers-by did, I
    made him a salute; he returned it with a smile, which changed the
    sedateness of his first aspect into a very graceful countenance; as
    he passed by I observed him to be a well-sized, clean-limbed man. I
    had but one glimpse of the Princess, which left me a great desire of
    seeing her again; however, my friend and I turned off into another
    alley, to reason at leisure on our several observations: there we
    met Dr. Cooper, and, after making some turns with him, the same
    company came again in our way. I was grown somewhat bolder, and
    resolved to let them pass as before, in order to take a full view of
    the Princess: she is of a middling stature, well-shaped, and has
    lovely features: wit, vivacity, and mildness of temper, are painted
    in her look. When they came to us, the Pretender stood, and spoke a
    word to the Doctor, then looking at us, he asked him whether we were
    English gentlemen; he asked us how long we had been in town, and
    whether we had any acquaintance in it, then told us he had a house,
    where English gentlemen would be very welcome. The Princess, who
    stood by, addressing herself to the Doctor in the prettiest English
    I think I ever heard, said, 'Pray, Doctor, if these gentlemen be
    lovers of music, invite them to my concert, to-night; I charge you
    with it;' which she accompanied with a salute in the most gracious
    manner. It was a very hard task, sir, to recede from the honour of
    such an invitation, given by a princess, who, although married to
    the Pretender, deserves so much in regard to her person, her house,
    and family. However, we argued the case with the Doctor, and
    represented the strict orders we had to the contrary; he replied,
    there would be no prohibition to a traveller against music, even at
    the ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church; that if we missed this
    occasion of seeing this assembly of the Roman nobility, we might not
    recover it while we stayed in Rome; and, that it became persons of
    our age and degree to act always the part of gentlemen, without
    regard to party humours. These arguments were more forcible than
    ours, so we went, and saw a bright assembly of the prime Roman
    nobility, the concert composed of the best musicians of Rome, a
    plentiful and orderly collation served; but the courteous and
    affable manner of our reception was more taking than all the rest.
    We had a general invitation given us whilst we stayed in town, and
    were desired to use the palace as our house, we were indispensably
    obliged to make a visit next day, in order to return thanks for so
    many civilities received;--those are things due to a Turk. We were
    admitted without ceremony; the Pretender entertained us on the
    subject of our families as knowingly as if he had been all his life
    in England: he told me some passages of myself and father, and of
    his being against the followers of King Charles I. and II., and
    added, "that if you, sir, had been of age before my grandfather's
    death, to learn his principles, there had been little danger of your
    taking party against the rights of a Stuart."

    "He then observed how far the prejudices of education and wrong
    notions of infancy are apt to carry people from the paths of their
    ancestors: he discoursed as pertinently on several of our
    neighbouring families as I could do, upon which I told him I was
    surprised at his so perfect knowledge of our families in England;
    his answer was, that from his infancy he had made it his business to
    acquire the knowledge of the laws, customs, and families of his
    country, so that he might not be reported a stranger when the
    Almighty pleased to call him thither. These and the like discourses
    held until word was brought that dinner was served; we endeavoured
    all we could to withdraw, but there was no possibility for it after
    he had made us this compliment, "I assure you, Gentlemen, I shall
    never be for straining man's inclinations; however, our
    grandfathers, who were worthy people, dined, and I hope there can be
    no fault found that we do the same." There is every day a regular
    table of ten or twelve covers well served, unto which some of the
    qualified persons of his court, or travellers, are invited: it is
    supplied with English and French cooking, French and Italian wines;
    but I took notice that the Pretender eat only of the English dishes,
    and made his dinner of roast-beef, and what we call Devonshire-pie:
    he also prefers our March beer, which he has from Leghorn, to the
    best wines: at the dessert, he drinks his glass of champagne very
    heartily, and to do him justice, he is as free and cheerful at his
    table as any man I know; he spoke much in favour of our English
    ladies, and said he was persuaded he had not many enemies among
    them; then he carried a health to them. The Princess with a smiling
    countenance took up the matter, and said, "I think then, Sir, it
    would be but just that I drink to the cavaliers." Sometime after,
    the Pretender begun a health to the prosperity of all friends in
    England, which he addressed to me. I took the freedom to reply, that
    as I presumed he meant his own friends, he would not take it ill
    that I meant mine. "I assure you, Sir," said he, "that the friends
    you mean can have no great share of prosperity till they become
    mine, therefore, here's prosperity to yours and mine." After we had
    eat and drank very heartily, the Princess told us we must go see her
    son, which could not be refused; he is really a fine promising
    child, and is attended by English women, mostly Protestants, which
    the Princess observed to us, saying, that as she believed he was to
    live and die among Protestants, she thought fit to have him brought
    up by their hands; and that in the country where she was born, there
    was no other distinction but that of honour and dishonour. These
    women, and particularly two Londoners, kept such a racket about us
    to make us kiss the young Pretender's hand that to get clear of them
    as soon as we could, we were forced to comply: the Princess laughed
    very heartily, and told us that she did not question but the day
    would come that we should not be sorry to have made so early an
    acquaintance with her son. I thought myself under a necessity of
    making her the compliment, that being hers, he could not miss being
    good and happy. On the next post day, we went, as commonly the
    English gentlemen here do, to the Pretender's house for news. He had
    received a great many letters, and after perusing them he told us
    that there was no great prospect of amendment in the affairs of
    England; that the Secret Committee and several other honest men were
    taking abundance of pains to find out the cause of the nation's
    destruction, which knowledge, when attained to, would avail only to
    give the more concern to the public without procuring relief; for
    that the authors would find means to be above the reach of the
    common course of justice: he bemoaned the misfortune of England
    groaning under a load of debts, and the severe hardships contracted
    and imposed to support foreign interests: he lamented the
    ill-treatment and disregard of the ancient nobility; and said it
    gave him great trouble to see the interest of the nation abandoned
    to the direction of a new set of people, who must at any rate enrich
    themselves by the spoil of their country: "some may imagine,"
    continued he, "that these calamities are not displeasing to me,
    because they may, in some measure, turn to my advantage; I renounce
    all such unworthy thoughts.""[423]

FOOTNOTE:

[423] The rest of the letter not being material, is omitted.




No. II.--THE PEDIGREE OF THE DERWENTWATER FAMILY. (_See Page 513._)


Francis Radcliffe, 1st Earl of Derwentwater; died 1696;===Catherine Fenwick.
                                                        |
  +-------------------------------------------------------------------+-+-+-+--------+-+-+-+
  |                                                                   | | | |        | | | |
Francis, 2nd Earl of Derwentwater; === Lady Mary Tudor; born 1673;   Four sons;     Four
born ----; married 1687; died 1705. |  mar. three times; died 1726.  whose fates    daughters.
                                    |                                are unknown.
                                    |
  +-------------------------------+---------+------------------------------------+
  |                               |         |                                    |
James, 3rd Earl===Anna Maria   Francis;   Charles  === Charlotte, Countess of   Mary  === Mr.
Derwentwater;   | Webb;        no         Radcliffe;|  Newburgh, in her own     Tudor. |  Petre,
beheaded 1716;  | born 1693;   issue.     beheaded  |  right, the descendants          |  of
aged 26.        | mar. 1712;              1746,     |  of her daughter in her          |  Belhouse.
                | died 1723.              aged 53.  |  first husband, Thomas           |
                |                                   |  Clifford, being born     No surviving issue.
                |                                   |  aliens do not succeed.
                |                                   |  She died 1755.
  +---------------+                                 |
  |               |                                 |
John, died   Anne      === Robert James,            |
unmarried,   Radcliffe; |  8th Lord Petre;          |
about 1730.  born 1713  |  born 1713;               |
             mar. 1732; |  mar. 1732;               |
             died 1760. |  died 1742.       +-----------------------+-----------+
                        |                   |                       |           |
                        |            James Bartholomew,===Miss    James;      Mary; born===Francis
+----------------------+             4th Earl Newburgh; | Kemp.   no issue;   ----; mar. | Eyre, of
|                                    born 1725-6; mar.  |         died 1788.  1755; died | Hassop
Robert, 9th Lord === Anne Howard;    1749; died 1786.   |                     1798.      |
Petre; b. 1733;   |  born 1742;                         |                                |
mar. 1762;        |  mar. 1762;            +------------+                                |
died 1801.        |  died 1787.            |                                             |
                  |                       Anthony,  === Miss Webb;                       |
+---------------------------------+       5th Earl   |  now                              |
|                                 |       Newburgh;  |  living,                          |
Robert, 10th === Mary Howard;   Other     b. ----;   |  1846.      +----------------------------+
Lord Petre;   |  born 1767;     Issue.    mar. 17--; |             |                            |
born 1763;    |  mar. 1786;               died 1814. |        Francis Eyre,===Miss Gladwin.  Other
mar. 1786;    |  died 1843.                          |        6th Earl      |                issue.
died 1809.    |                                  No issue.    Newburgh;     |
              |                                               born 1762;    |
+----------------------+                                      mar. 1787;    |
|                      |                                      died 1827.    |
William, 11th, and   Other                                                  |
present, Lord        issue.              +----------------------+------------------+-+-+
Petre.                                   |                      |                  | | |
                                     Thomas Eyre, 7th Earl    Francis Eyre, 8th,   Three
                                     Newburgh; born 1790;     and present, Earl    daughters.
                                     mar. 1817; died 1833.    Newburgh.
                                     No issue.




No. III.


The following address affords a curious specimen of the subtlety of Lord
Lovat, and the mode usually adopted by him of cajoling his clan. It was
copied by Alexander Macdonald, Esq., from an old process, in which it
was produced before the Court of Session, and it is preserved in the
Register House, Edinburgh; the signature, date, and address are,
holographs of Lord Lovat.


THE HONOURABLE THE GENTLEMEN OF THE NAME OF FRASER.

    My dear Friends,

    Since, by all appearances, this is the last time of my life I shall
    have occasion to write to you, I being now very ill of a dangerous
    fever, I do declare to you before God, before whom I must apear, and
    all of us at the great day of Judgement, that I loved you all, I
    mean you and all the rest of my kindred and family who are for the
    standing of their chief and name; and, as I loved you, so I loved
    all my faithful Commons in general more than I did my own life or
    health, or comfort, or satisfaction; and God to whom I must answer,
    knows that my greatest desire and the greatest happiness I proposed
    to myself under heaven was, to make you all live happy and make my
    poor Commons flourish; and that it was my constant principle to
    think myself mutch hapier with a hundred pounds and see you all live
    well at your ease about mee than have ten thousand pounds a year,
    and see you in want or misery. I did faithfully desire and resolve
    to make up, and put at their ease Allexander Fraser of Topatry, and
    James Fraser of Castle Ladders and their familys; and whatever
    disputs might ever be betwixt them and me which our mutual hot
    temper occasioned, joyned with the malice and calomny of both our
    ennemies, I take God to witness, I loved those two brave men as I
    did my own life for their great zeal and fidelity they showed for
    their chief and kindred; I did likewise resolve to support the
    families of Struy Foyers and Culdithels families, and to the lasting
    praise of Culdithel and his familie. I never knew himself to sarwe
    from his faithfull zeal for his chief and kindred, nor none of his
    familie, for which I hope God will bless him and them and their
    posterity. I did likewise desyring to make my poor Commons live at
    their ease and have them always well clothed and well armed after
    the Highland maner, and not to suffer them to wear low country
    cloths, but make them live like their forefathers with the use of
    their arms, that they might always be in condition to defend
    themselves against their ennemies, and to do service to their
    friends, especially to the great Duke of Argile, and to his worthy
    brother the Earl of Illay, and to that glorious and noble famyly who
    were always our constant and faithful friends; and I conjure you and
    all honest Frasers to be zealous and faithfull friends and servants
    to the family of Argile and their friends, whilst a Campbell and a
    Fraser subsists. If it be God's will that for the punishment of my
    great and many sins and the sins of my kindred, I should now depart
    this life before I put these just and good resolutions in execution;
    yet I hope that God in his mercy will inspire you and all honest
    Frasers to stand by and be faithfull to my cousin Inverlahie and the
    other heirs male of my family, and to venture your lives and
    fortunes to put him or my nearest heirs male named in my Testament
    written by John Jacks, in the full possession of the estate and
    honours of my forefathers, which is the onely way to preserve you
    from the wicked designs of the family of Tarbat and Glengary joyned
    to the family of Athol: and you may depend upon it, and you and your
    posterity will see it and find it, that if you do not keep stedfast
    to your chief, I mean the heir male of my famyly; but weakly or
    falsely for little private interest and views abandon your duty to
    your name, and suffer a pretended heiresse, and her Mackenzie
    children to possess your country and the true right of the heirs
    male, they will certainly in les than an age chasse you all by
    slight and might, as well Gentlemen, as Commons, out of your native
    country, which will be possessed by the Mackenzies and the
    Mackdonalls, and you will be, like the miserable unnatural Jews,
    scattered, and vagabonds throughout the unhappy kingdom of Scotland,
    and the poor wifes and children that remains of the name, without a
    head or protection when they are told the traditions of their
    familie will be cursing from their hearts the persons and memory of
    those unnaturall cowardly knavish men, who sold and abandoned their
    chief, their name, their birthright, and their country, for a false
    and foolish present gain, even as the most of Scots' people curs
    this day those who sold them and their country to the English by the
    fatal union, which I hope will not last long.

    I make my earnest and dying prayers to God Almighty, that he may, in
    his mercy, thro the merits of Christ Jesus, save you and all my poor
    people, whom I always found honest and zealous to me and their duty,
    from that blindness of heart that will inevitably bring those ruins
    and disgraces upon you and your posterity; and I pray that Almighty
    and Mercifull God, who has often miraculously saved my family and
    name from utter ruin, may give you the spirit of courage, of zeal,
    and of fidelity, that you owe to your chief, to your name, to your
    selves, to your children, and to your country; and may the most
    mercifull, and adorable Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, three
    persons, one God, save all your souls eternally, throu the blood of
    Christ Jesus, our Blessed Lord and Saviour, to whom I heartily
    recommende you.

    I desire that this letter may be kept in a box, at Beaufort, or
    Maniack, and read once a-year by the heir male, or a principale
    gentleman of the name, to all honest Frasers that will continue
    faithfull to the duty I have enjoined in this above-written letter,
    to whom, with you and all honest Frasers, and my other friends, I
    leave my tender and affectionat blessing, and bid you my kind, and
    last farewell.

                                                              LOVAT.

    London, the 5 of Aprile, 1718.

    Not being able to write myself, I did dictat the above letter to the
    little French boy, that's my servant. It contains the most sincere
    sentiments of my heart; and if it touch my kindred in reading of it,
    as it did me while I dictat it, I am sure it will have a good
    effect, which are my earnest prayers to God.




IV.


Allusion having been made often, in the course of these memoirs, to the
process of "serving oneself heir" to an estate, in Scotland: the
following document,[424] shewing the form of such a process, may not be
deemed uninteresting.

    Claim for William Maxwell, Esq. of Carruchan, who served heir-male
    in general of Robert, Fourth Earl of Nithisdale.

    "Honourable persons and good men of Inquest: I, William Maxwell, of
    Carruchan, who was son of Captain Maxwell of Carruchan, who was son
    of Alexander Maxwell, of Yark and Terraughty, who was son of the
    Honourable James Maxwell, of Breckonside, immediate younger brother
    of John, third Earl of Nithisdale, who was father of Robert, fourth
    Earl of Nithisdale, say unto your wisdoms, that the said Maxwell of
    Nithisdale, nephews of my great-great-great-grandfather, died in the
    faith and peace of our Sovereign Lord the King then reigning, and
    that I am nearest and lawful heir male in general to the said
    Robert, fourth Earl of Nithisdale, the nephew of my
    great-great-great-grandfather, and that I am of lawful age.
    Therefore I beseech your wisdoms to serve and cognesce me nearest
    and lawful heir male in general to the said deceased Robert, fourth
    Earl of Nithisdale, and cause your clerk of the Court to return my
    service to your Majesty's Chancery. Under my seal,

    "According to justice and your wisdom's answer, &c. &c."

FOOTNOTE:

[424] I am indebted for a copy of this process to Sir John Maxwell,
Bart. Pollok.

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber's Note: The following errors in the original have been
corrected.

Contents page - page number for Flora McDonald changed from 294 to 310

Page 20 - no footnote marker for second footnote

Page 88 - missing quotation mark added before (that is to say,

Page 95 - missing quotation mark added after of the heather. Vestiarum
Scoticum changed to Vestiarium Scoticum

Page 98 - extra quotation mark removed from after retreat to the Prince.

Page 109 - extra quotation mark removed from after in a few days.

Page 116 - missing quotation mark added before was pretty well filled

Page 155 - Charles had carefuly changed to Charles had carefully

Page 195 - missing quotation mark added About the same time

Page 218 - missing quotation mark added after (1751), and before for my
wife

Page 242 - recal the slow changed to recall the slow

Page 263 - missing quotation mark added after light from Heaven.

Page 287 - extra quotation mark removed from before The Duke of Perth
marched

Page 301 - Roman Carholic changed to Roman Catholic

Page 305 - extra quotation mark removed from after Antwerpiæ jacet.

Page 350 - extra comma removed from after know who might

Page 382 - missing quotation mark added after Earls of Kilmarnock.

Page 387 - extra quotation mark removed from after Linlithgow, and
Calendar;

Page 408 - recal of Arthur changed to recall of Arthur

Page 422 - removed unnecessary apostrophe from after giving their
Lordships

Page 431 - missing quotation mark added before would as soon be hanged

Page 436 - and exexempt changed to and exempt Craufurland Castle,
Kilmarnock changed to Craufurdland Castle, Kilmarnock

Page 438 - missing quotation mark added after receiving a remedy.

Page 442 - inquired Mr. Forster, changed to inquired Mr. Foster,

Page 443 - missing quotation mark added after Lord Balmerino's
execution.

Page 450 - missing quotation mark added before is one of antiquity

Page 474 - missing quotation mark added before I now, with my

Page 476 - missing quotation mark added before I put him in mind

Page 477 - missing quotation mark added before His agreeable look

Page 488 - missing quotation mark added after designs for London. Adieu!

Page 491 - missing volume number in footnote inserted.

Page 496 - where at the highest changed to were at the highest

Page 504 - Willian Pitt, Esq. changed to William Pitt, Esq.

Page 510 - was a a report changed to was a report

Page 518 - missing quotation mark added before He then observed

Page 520 - missing quotation mark added after such unworthy thoughts."