Chapter IX: Preface (9)

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]