Part 19

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.