WALTER FENTON AND THE KING.
To daunton me, and me sae young,
And guid King James's auldest son!
Oh, that's the thing that never can be,
For the man is unborn that'll daunton me!
O set me once upon Scottish land,
With my guid braid-sword into my hand,
My bannet blue aboon my bree,
Then shew me the man that'll daunton me!
JACOBITE RELIQUES.
His confessor had just withdrawn, and King James was sitting in his
closet involved in gloomy and distracting reverie--immersed in
thoughts which even the mild exhortations of the priest had failed to
soothe, and with his eyes intently fixed on the morning sun as it
rose red and unclouded in the east, he gave way to the sadness that
oppressed him.
Alternately he was a prey to a storm of revengeful and bitter
political reflections, or to a gloomy fanaticism, which impaired the
courage and lessened the magnanimity for which he had once been
distinguished. On discovering that he was constantly conferring with
the Jesuits upon abstruse theology, the ribald Louis spoke of him in
terms of pity mingled with contempt. The French ridiculed, the
Romans lampooned him, and, while the Sovereign Pontiff supplied him
liberally with indulgences, the Archbishop of Rheims said
ironically--"There is a pious man who hath sacrificed three crowns
for a mass!"
And this was all the unfortunate and mistaken James had gained, by
his steady and devoted adherence to a falling faith.
Bestowing a glance of undisguised hostility, not unmingled with
contempt, at the follower of St. Ignatius Loyola as he withdrew, the
Earl of Dunbarton, clad in his old uniform as a Scottish general,
entered the apartment of the King. The green ribbon of St. Andrew
was worn over his left shoulder, the star with its four silver points
sparkled on his left breast, and around his neck hung the red ribbon
of the Bath, and the magnificent collar of the Garter.
"Good morning, my Lord Dunbarton; you look as if you had something to
communicate. Any news from Flanders? Is my dutiful son-in-law still
playing at long bowles with Luxembourg? Has Sir Walter Fenton
arrived?"
"He awaits your Majesty's pleasure in the ante-chamber."
"Let him be introduced at once! Why all this etiquette?"
"Because, please your Majesty, it is all that is left to remind me of
other days."
"True," said the King thoughtfully.
"Welcome, my brave and faithful soldier!" he exclaimed, as Walter was
introduced by the gentlemen in waiting, and kneeled to kiss his hand.
"Welcome from Flanders, that land of fighting and fertility. My poor
Sir Walter, you look very pale and emaciated."
"I was wounded at Steinkirke, please your Majesty; and with those
unfortunate gentlemen, my comrades, have undergone such hardships and
humiliations as no imagination can conceive."
Walter's eyes suffused with tears; his voice and his heart trembled.
He felt a gush of loyalty and ardour swelling within his breast, that
would have enabled him cheerfully to lay his life at the feet of the
King. The remark of a celebrated modern writer is indeed a true one.
"Unfortunate and unwise as were the Stuart family, there must have
been some charm about them, for they had instances of attachment and
fidelity shewn them of which _no other line of Kings could boast_."
"You have indeed undergone sufferings which God only can reward,"
said the King, laying a hand kindly on his shoulder; "and your ill
requited valour is a striking example of the falsehood and flattery
of the Court of Versailles."
"When I consider our achievements," replied Walter, "my soul fires
with pride and ardour; but when I think of the friends that have
fallen, my heart dies away within me. To the last of my blood and
breath I will serve your majesty; but, notwithstanding this gift of
the Cross of St. Louis, I will follow the banner of the donor no
more."
"Louis is a noble prince," said the Earl of Dunbarton, "and one who
hath raised his realm to the greatest pitch of human grandeur."
"Oh, say not so, my Lord! When I remember the cruel persecution of
his subjects after the Treaty of Nimguen, his repealing the edict of
Nantes, his tyranny over the noblesse and the parliament, his unjust
wars and usurpations, in which he pours forth so prodigally the blood
and the treasures of his people; his blasphemous titles and lewd
life; I can only remember with shame that I have served in his army,
and from this hour renounce his service for ever. And were it not
that this cross hung once on the breast of the gallant Luxembourg, I
would hurl it into the Seine."
"The remembrance of your sufferings doubtless animates this unwise
train of thought, Sir Walter," said the King, slightly piqued. "But
permit me to remark, that to indulge your opinions thus in France, is
to run your head into the lion's mouth. How goes the war in
Flanders?"
"Still doubtfully, please your Majesty; but the recent arrival of the
Duke of Leinster at Ostend, with fresh troops for William, may turn
the fortune of the war against Henri of Luxembourg, and consequently
please the people of England, who are not very favourably disposed
towards this expensive and unnecessary war for the Dutch interests of
the usurper."
"The best proof of this new sentiment, is the discontent of the
Cameronians in the western districts of Scotland. What dost think,
Sir Walter? They have engaged to muster 5000 horse and 20,000
infantry for my complete restoration, provided Louis will give them
only one month's subsidy, beside other supplies, and these he hath
solemnly promised me."
"From my soul I thank Heaven that again it is turning the hearts of
your subjects towards you. If such is the spirit of the Cameronians,
oh, what will be the energy and the ardour of the Cavaliers! But
trust not in Louis; he has ruined every prince with whom he has been
allied, in war or in politics, and assuredly he will shipwreck the
interests of your Majesty, as he has done those of others."
"Still judging hardly of his most Christian Majesty," said James,
smiling. "But I have the pledged words of better men. From the
noble Drummonds', the gallant Keiths', the Hays', from the Lord
Stormont and the Murrays', the gay Gordons and Grahames, I have
received the most solemn promises of adherence and loyalty; and I
know that the glorious clans of the northern shires will all rush to
my standard the moment it is unfurled upon the Highland hills. Oh,
yes!" continued the King, while his dark eyes flashed with joyous
enthusiasm; "once again as in my father's days the war-cry of the
Gael will ring from Lochness to Lochaber."
"But where is now Montrose, and where Dundee?" said Lord Dunbarton in
a low voice.
"God will raise up other champions for those who have suffered so
much in his service as the Princes of the House of Stuart," replied
the King with Catholic fervour and confidence. "Meantime, Sir
Walter, I would have you to set out for Scotland forthwith, to
negotiate with those distinguished cavaliers, while the minds of my
people are still inflamed by the memory of that fiend-like massacre
at Glencoe, the defeat of Steinkirke, the slaughter of their
soldiers, and all the disgusts incident to the Flemish campaign
abroad and William's administration at home. My Lord Dunbarton avers
that he will pledge his honour for the loyalty of his old regiment
and the Scottish Guards, both horse and foot, for his Countess has
questioned every man of them. You will not fail to visit Drummond of
Hawthorndon; he comes of a leal and true race, and his house, with
its deep caverns and secret outlets, is a noble place of rendezvous
and security. You will be liberally supplied with money and letters
of credit and compliment. You may promise, in my name, everything
that seems requisite--titles, honours, pensions,--I will trust to
your discretion, from what the Lord Dunbarton has told me of you.
Flatter the vain, conciliate the stubborn, secure the wavering, and
fire the loyal. Leave nothing undone, and remember that, perhaps on
the success of your mission depend the fortune of the prince, my son,
the ancient liberties of Scotland, the honour of her people, and the
fate of her regal line."
The King ceased, and Walter was so overwhelmed by the magnitude of
the diplomacy entrusted to him, and the joy at returning to Scotland,
that he remained silent for some moments.
"Oh, with what a mission does your Majesty honour me!" he exclaimed,
glowing with ambition, gratitude and joy. "How can I express my
thanks for this great confidence reposed in one so poor, so
friendless?"
"These are good qualities, Sir Walter, for a Jacobite agent; you may
(being friendless and unknown) make your way through Scotland in
safety, when a coroneted baron, or the chief of a powerful sept,
would soon be discovered and committed to the Castle of Edinburgh or
the Tower of London. Go, Sir Walter; Lord Dunbarton and my secretary
will arrange the matters you require, and in addition to my holograph
letters to the Lowland lords and Highland chiefs, will give you
others to Mr. Brown, my English agent, and Father Innes, President of
the Scots' College at Paris, who acts for me in Scotland. Go, Sir
Walter, and prosper! If ever we meet again, let us hope it will be
under very different circumstances. May God and his thrice-blessed
mother keep their hands over you, and inspire you for the sake of my
dear little son and the people over whom he is to rule! Farewell--I
have in some sort rewarded your courage in the field, but if your
talent in diplomacy equals it, I swear by the sceptre that my sires
have borne for ages, you shall be Earl of Dalrulion in the north, and
cock your beaver with the best peer in all broad Scotland. Farewell!
may we meet again at the head of a loyal and faithful army, or part
to meet no more!"
Again Walter Fenton kneeled, and after kissing the hand of James, was
hurried away by the Earl of Dunbarton.
Furnished with a great number of letters addressed to the principal
nobles and chiefs in Scotland, Walter artfully sewed them into the
lining of his hat and the stiff buckram skirts of his coat, after
which, without an hour's delay, he departed on his arduous and
dangerous mission--to overturn the established governments of two
kingdoms--to hurl down one dynasty and restore another.
Already he had gained a title which formerly he had possessed only in
his day-dreams of success and glory; but now decorated by Louis with
his new and famous military order, promised a peerage by his King,
fired by loyalty, ardour, and love, he seemed to occupy a giddy
eminence, from which he viewed distinctly a long and happy future.
It was a far-stretching and glorious vista of triumph and success;
the restoration of the king by his means, and oh, far above all,--the
exultation of placing a Countess's coronet on the bright tresses of
Lilian Napier.