of the family who had been spared after the Rebellion of 1715, to renew
his efforts in the cause. His brother, the celebrated Lord George
Murray, was also deeply engaged in the same interests. In 1719, the
hopes of the party were revived by the war with Spain, and their
invasion of Great Britain was quietly planned by the Duke of Ormond, who
hastened to Madrid to hold conferences with Alberoni. Shortly afterwards
the Chevalier was received in that capital, and treated as King of
England. In March, 1719, the ill-fated expedition under the Duke of
Ormond was formed, and a fleet, destined never to reach its appointed
place of rendezvous, sailed from Cadiz.
The enterprise met with the usual fate of all the attempts formed in
favour of the Stuarts. With the exception of two frigates, none of the
ships proceeded farther than Cape Finisterre, where they were disabled
by a storm. These two vessels reached the coast of Scotland, having on
board of them the Earl of Seaforth, the Earl Marischal, the Marquis of
Tullibardine,[48] three hundred Spaniards, and arms for two thousand
men. They landed at the island of Lewes, but found the body of the
Jacobite party resolved not to move until all the forces under Ormond
should be assembled. During this interval of suspense, disputes between
the Marquis of Tullibardine and the Lord Marischal, which should have
the command, produced the usual effects among a divided and factious
party, of checking exertion by diminishing confidence.
It appears, however, that the Marquis had a commission from the
Chevalier to invade Scotland; in virtue of which he left the island of
Lewes, whence he had for some time been carrying on a correspondence
with the Highland chieftains, and landed with the three hundred
Spaniards on the main land. The Ministers of George the First lost no
time in repelling this attempt by a foreign power, and it is singular
that they employed Dutch troops for the purpose; and that Scotland, for
the first time, beheld her rights contested by soldiers speaking
different languages, and natives of different continental regions. The
Government had brought over two thousand Dutch soldiers, and six
battalions of Imperial troops from the Austrian Netherlands, and these
were now sent down to Inverness, where General Wightman was stationed.
As soon as he was informed of the landing of the Spanish forces, that
commander marched his troops to Glenshiel, a place between Fort Augustus
and Benera. He attacked the invaders: the Highlanders were quickly
repulsed and fled to their hills; the Spaniards were taken prisoners;
but the Marquis of Tullibardine and the Earl of Seaforth escaped, and,
retreating to the island of Lewes, again escaped to France.
During twenty-six years the Marquis of Tullibardine, against whom an act
of attainder was passed, remained in exile. He appears to have avoided
taking any active part in political affairs. "These seven or eight
years," he says in a letter addressed to the Chevalier, "have
sufficiently shewn me how unfit I am for meddling with the deep concerns
of state."[49] He resided at Puteaux, a small town near Paris, until
called imperatively from his retreat.
During the period of inaction, no measures were taken to reconcile those
whom he had left, the more gallant portion of the Highlanders, to the
English Government. "The state of arms," says Mr. Home, "was allowed to
remain the same; the Highlanders lived under their chiefs, in arms; the
people of England and the Lowlanders of Scotland lived, without arms,
under their sheriffs and magistrates; so that every rebellion was a war
carried on by the Highlanders against the standing army; and a
declaration of war with France or Spain, which required the service of
the troops abroad, was a signal for a rebellion at home. Strange as it
may seem, it was actually so."[50]
During the interval between the two Rebellions of 1715 and 1745, the
arts of peace were cultivated in England, and the national wealth
augmented; but no portion of that wealth altered the habits of the
Highland chieftains, who, looking continually for another rebellion,
estimated their property by the number of men whom they could bring into
the field. An anecdote, illustrative of this peculiarity, is told of
Macdonald of Keppoch, who was killed at the battle of Culloden. Some
low-country gentlemen were visiting him in 1740, and were entertained
with the lavish hospitality of a Highland home. One of these guests
ventured to ask of the landlord, what was the rent of his estate. "I can
bring five hundred men into the field," was the reply. It was estimated,
about this time, that the whole force which could be raised by the
Highlanders amounted to no more than twelve thousand men; yet, with this
inconsiderable number, the Jacobites could shake the British throne.
The danger which might arise to the Government, in case of a foreign
war, from the Highlanders, was foreseen by Duncan Forbes of Culloden,
and a scheme was formed by that good and great man, and communicated to
Lord Hay, adapted to reconcile the chieftains to the sovereignty of the
house of Hanover, and at the same time to preserve the peace of the
country. This was, to raise four or five Highland regiments, appointing
an English or Scotch officer of undoubted loyalty to King George, to be
colonel of each regiment, and naming all the inferior officers from a
list drawn up by President Forbes, and comprising all the chiefs and
chieftains of the disaffected clans. Most unhappily this plan was
rejected. Had it been adopted, the melancholy events of the last
Rebellion might not have left an indelible stain upon our national
character. The Highlanders, once enlisted in the cause of Government,
would have been true to their engagements; and the fidelity of the
officers, when serving abroad, would have been a guarantee for the good
conduct of their relations at home. It was not, however, deemed
practicable; and the energies of a determined and unemployed people were
again brought into active force. It is said to have met with the decided
approbation of Sir Robert Walpole, but it was negatived by the
Cabinet.[51]
The year 1739 witnessed the revival of the Jacobite Association, which
had been annihilated by the attainders and exiles of its members after
the last Rebellion. The declaration of war between Spain and England,
induced a belief that hostilities with France would follow; and
accordingly, in 1740, seven persons of distinction met at Edinburgh, and
signed an association, which was to be carried to the Chevalier St.
George at Rome, together with a list of those chiefs and chieftains who
were ready to join the association, if a body of French troops should
land in Scotland. This was the commencement of the second Rebellion; and
it was seconded with as pure a spirit of devotion to the cause, as
exalted an enthusiasm, as if none had bled on the scaffold in the
previous reign, or attainders and forfeitures had never visited with
poverty and ruin the adherents of James Stuart.
The Marquis of Tullibardine was selected as one of the attendants of
Charles Edward, in the perilous enterprise of the invasion. He was the
person of the highest rank among those who accompanied the gallant and
unfortunate adventurer in his voyage from the mouth of the Loire to
Scotland, in a little vessel, La Doutelle, with its escort of a ship of
seven hundred tons, the Elizabeth. During this voyage the strictest
incognito was preserved by the Prince, who was dressed in the habit of
the Scotch College, at Paris, and who suffered his beard to grow, in
order still better to disguise himself. At night the ship sailed without
a light, except that which proceeded from the compass, and which was
closely covered, the more effectually to defy pursuit. As it tracked the
ocean, with its guardian, the Elizabeth, the sight of a British
man-of-war off Lizard Point excited the ardour of the youthful hero on
board of La Doutelle. Captain D'Eau, the commander of the Elizabeth,
determined to attack the English ship, and requested the aid of Mr.
Walsh, who commanded the Doutelle. His request was denied, probably from
the responsibility which would have been incurred by Walsh, if he had
endangered the safety of the vessel in which the Prince sailed. The
attack was therefore made by the brave D'Eau alone. It was succeeded by
a fight of two hours, during which the Doutelle looked on, while the
Prince vainly solicited Walsh to engage in the action. The commander
refused, and threatened the royal youth to send him to his cabin if he
persisted. Both ships were severely damaged in the encounter and La
Doutelle was obliged to proceed on her way alone, the Elizabeth
returning to France to refit.
On the twenty-first of July, La Doutelle approached the remote range of
the Hebrides, comprehending Lewes, Uist, and Barra, often called, from
being seen together, the Long Island. As the vessel neared the shore, a
large Hebridean eagle hovered over the masts. The Marquis of
Tullibardine observed it, and attributed to its appearance that
importance to which the imagination of his countrymen gives to such
incidents; yet, not wishing to appear superstitious, or to show what is
called a "Highland freit," it was not until the bird had followed the
ship's course for some time, that he drew the attention of the Prince to
the circumstance. As they returned on deck after dinner, he pointed out
the bird to Charles Edward, observing at the same time, "Sir, I hope
this is a happy omen, and promises good things to us; the king of birds
is come to welcome your Royal Highness, on your arrival in Scotland."
The Prince and his followers landed, on the twenty-third of July, at the
island of Eriska, belonging to Clanranald, and situated between the
Isles of Barra and of South Uist, their voyage having been accomplished
in eighteen days. Here all the party landed, with the exception of the
Marquis, who was laid up with the gout, and unable to move. His
condition was supposed to be one of peril, for two ships had been
espied, and the Prince and his associates hurried off, with all the
expedition they could, to shore. The long boat was got out, and sent to
procure a pilot, who was discovered in the person of the hereditary
piper of Clanranald, who piloted the precious freight safely to shore.
The two vessels which had produced so much alarm, proved afterwards to
be only merchant-vessels.
In these "malignant regions," as Dr. Johnson describes them, referring
to the severity of the climate and the poverty of the soil, Prince
Charles and his adherents were lodged in a small country house, with a
hole in the roof for a chimney, and a fire in the middle of the room.
The young adventurer, reared among the delicacies of the palace at
Albano, was often obliged to go to the door for fresh air. "What a
plague is the matter with that fellow," exclaimed Angus Macdonald, the
landlord, "that he can neither sit nor stand still, nor keep within nor
without doors?" The night, it must be observed, was unusually wet and
stormy, so that the Prince had no alternative between smoke and rain.
The pride of the Scotch, in this remote region, was exemplified in
another trifling occurrence: The Prince, who was less fatigued than the
rest of the party, with that consideration for others, and disregard of
his own personal comfort, which formed at this period so beautiful a
part of his character, insisted that his attendants should retire to
rest. He took a particular care of Sir Thomas Sheridan, his tutor, and
examined closely the bed appropriated to him, in order to see that it
was well aired. The landlord, indignant at this investigation, called
out to him, "That the bed was so good, and the sheets were so good, that
a prince might sleep in them."[52]
The farm-house in which this little incident took place, and which first
received the Prince, who was destined to occupy so great a variety of
dwellings in Scotland, was situated in Borrodale, a wild, mountainous
tract of country, which forms a tongue of land between two bays.
Borrodale, being difficult of access, was well-chosen as the
landing-place of Charles; whilst around, in most directions, were the
well-wishers to his cause.
The Marquis of Tullibardine accompanied Charles in his progress until
the Prince landed at Glenfinnin,[53] which is situated about twenty
miles from Fort William, and forms the outlet from Moidart to Lochaber;
here the standard of Charles Edward was unfurled. The scene in which
this ill-omened ceremonial took place is a deep and narrow valley, in
which the river Finnin runs between high and craggy mountains, which are
inaccessible to every species of carriage, and only to be surmounted by
travellers on foot. At each end of the vale is a lake of about twelve
miles in length, and behind the stern mountains which enclose the glen,
are salt-water lakes, one of them an arm of the sea. The river Finnin
empties itself into the Lake of Glenshiel, at the extremity of the glen.
On the eighteenth of August Prince Charles crossed this lake, slept at
Glensiarick, and on the nineteenth proceeded to Glenfinnin.
When Charles landed in the glen, he gazed around anxiously for Cameron
of Lochiel, the younger, whom he expected to have joined him. He looked
for some time in vain; that faithful adherent was not then in sight, nor
was the glen, as the Prince had expected, peopled by any of the clansmen
whose gathering he had expected. A few poor people from the little knot
of hovels, which was called the village, alone greeted the ill-starred
adventurer. Disconcerted, Prince Charles entered one of the hovels,
which are still standing, and waited there for about two hours. At the
end of that time, the notes of the pibroch were heard, and presently,
descending from the summit of a hill, appeared the Camerons, advancing
in two lines, each of them three men deep. Between the lines walked the
prisoners of war, who had been taken some days previously near Loch
Lochiel.
The Prince, exhilarated by the sight of six or seven hundred brave
Highlanders, immediately gave orders for the standard to be unfurled.
The office of honour was entrusted to the Marquis of Tullibardine, on
account of his high rank and importance to the cause. The spot chosen
for the ceremony was a knoll in the centre of the vale. Upon this little
eminence the Marquis stood, supported on either side by men, for his
health was infirm, and what we should now call a premature old age was
fast approaching. The banner which it was his lot to unfurl displayed no
motto, nor was there inscribed upon it the coffin and the crown which
the vulgar notion in England assigned to it. It was simply a large
banner of red silk, with a white space in the middle. The Marquis held
the staff until the Manifesto of the Chevalier and the Commission of
Regency had been read. In a few hours the glen in which this solemnity
had been performed, was filled not only with Highlanders, but with
ladies and gentlemen to admire the spectacle. Among them was the
celebrated Miss, or, more properly, Mrs. Jeanie Cameron, whose
passionate attachment for the Prince rendered her so conspicuous in the
troublous period of 1745. The description given of her in Bishop
Forbes's Jacobite Memoirs destroys much of the romance of the story
commonly related of her. "She is a widow," he declares, "nearer fifty
than forty years of age. She is a genteel, well-looking, handsome woman,
with a pair of pretty eyes, and hair black as jet. She is of a very
sprightly genius, and is very agreeable in conversation. She was so far
from accompanying the Prince's army, that she went off with the rest of
the spectators as soon as the army marched; neither did she ever follow
the camp, nor ever was with the Prince in private, except when he was in
Edinburgh."[54]
Soon after the unfurling of the standard, we find the Marquis of
Tullibardine writing to Mrs. Robertson of Lude, a daughter of Lord
Nairn, and desiring her to put the Castle of Blair into some order, and
to do honours of the place when the Prince should come there. The
Marquis, it is here proper to mention, was regarded by all the Jacobites
as still the head of his house, and uniformly styled by that party the
"Duke of Athole," yet he seldom adopted the title himself; and in only
one or two instances in his correspondence does the signature of Athole
occur.[55]
On the thirty-first of August the Prince visited the famous Blair
Athole, or Field of Athole, the word _Blair_ signifying a pleasant land,
and being descriptive of that beautiful vale situated in the midst of
wild and mountainous scenery.
After riding along a black moor, in sight of vast mountains, the castle,
a plain massive white house, appears in view. It is seated on an
eminence above a plain watered by the Gary, called, by Pennant, "an
outrageous stream, which laves and rushes along vast beds of gravel on
the valley below."
The approach to Blair Castle winds up a very steep and high hill, and
through a great birch wood, forming a most picturesque scene, from the
pendent form of the boughs waving with the wind from the bottom to the
utmost summits of the mountains. On attaining the top, a view of the
beautiful little Straith, fertile and wooded, with the river in the
middle, delights the beholder. The stream, after meandering in various
circles, suddenly swells into a lake that fills the vale from side to
side; this lake is about three miles long, and retains the name of the
river.
When Prince Charles visited Blair, it was a fortified house, and capable
of holding out a siege afterwards against his adherents. Its height was
consequently lowered, but the inside has been finished with care by the
ducal owner. The environs of this beautiful place are thus described by
the graphic pen of Pennant,[56] whose description of them, having been
written in 1769, is more likely to apply to the state in which it was
when Prince Charles beheld it, than that of any more modern traveller.
"The Duke of Athoel's estate is very extensive, and the country
populous; while vassalage existed, the chieftain could raise two or
three thousand fighting-men, and leave sufficient at home to take care
of the ground. The forests, or rather chases, (for they are quite
naked,) are very extensive, and feed vast numbers of stags, which range
at certain times of the year in herds of five hundred. Some grow to a
great size. The hunting of these animals was formerly after the manner
of an Eastern monarch. Thousands of vassals surrounded a great tract of
country, and drove the deer to the spot where the chieftains were
stationed, who shot them at their leisure.
"Near the house is a fine walk surrounding a very deep glen, finely
wooded, but in dry weather deficient in water at the bottom; but on the
side of the walk on the rock is a small crystalline fountain, inhabited
at that time by a pair of Naiads, in the form of golden fish.
"In a spruce-fir was a hang-nest of some unknown bird, suspended at the
four corners to the boughs; it was open at top an inch and a half in
diameter, and two deep; the sides and bottom thick, the materials moss,
worsted, and birch-bark, lined with hair and feathers. The stream
affords the parr,[57] a small species of trout seldom exceeding eight
inches in length, marked on the sides with nine large bluish spots, and
on the lateral line with small red ones. No traveller should omit
visiting Yorke Cascade, a magnificent cataract, amidst most suitable
scenery, about a mile distant from the house. This country is very
mountainous, has no natural woods, except of birch; but the vast
plantations that begin to cloath the hills will amply supply these
defects."[58]
With what sensations must the Marquis of Tullibardine have approached
this beautiful and princely territory, from which he had been excluded,
his vassals becoming the vassals of a younger brother, and he a
proscribed and aged man, visiting as an alien the home of his youth!
Sanguine hopes, however, perhaps mitigated the bitterness of the
reflections with which the faithful and disinterested Marquis of
Tullibardine once more found himself within the precincts of his proud
domain.
Several anecdotes are told of Prince Charles at Blair; among others,
"that when the Prince was at the Castle, he went into the garden, and
taking a walk upon the bowling-green, he said he had never seen a
bowling-green before; upon which Mrs. Robertson of Lude called for some
bowls that he might see them, but he told her that he had had a present
of bowls sent him, as a curiosity, to Rome from England."[59]
On the second of September, the Prince left Blair and went to the house
of Lude, where he was very cheerful, and took his share in several
dances, such as minuets and Highland reels; the first reel the Prince
called for was, "This is no' mine ain House;" he afterwards commanded a
Strathspey minuet to be danced.
On the following day, while dining at Dunkeld, some of the company
happened to observe what a thoughtful state his father would now be in
from the consideration of those dangers and difficulties which he had to
encounter, and remarked that upon this account he was much to be pitied,
because his mind must be much upon the rack. The Prince replied, that he
did not half so much pity his father as his brother;[60] "for," (he
said) "the King has been inured to disappointments and distresses, and
has learnt to bear up easily under the misfortunes of life; but, poor
Harry!--his young and tender years make him much to be pitied, for few
brothers love as we do."
On the fourth of September, Prince Charles entered Perth; the Marquis of
Tullibardine, as it appears from several letters addressed to him by
Lord George Murray, who wrote from Perth, remained at Blair, but only,
as it is evident from the following extract from a letter by Lord George
Murray, whilst awaiting the arrangement of active operations. On the
twenty-second of September he received a commission from the Prince,
constituting and appointing him Commander-in-Chief of the forces north
of the Forth; the active duties of the post were, however, fulfilled by
Lord George Murray, who writes in the character of a general:[61]
"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 another express from me with you before Monday night.
But in the meantime 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 mark behind; but you will be able to make that up on Thursday,
when I reckon we may meet at Dumblane, 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 this day, thirty-five bolls,--for it
was at Invar 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 frocks made to each man to contain a
peck or two for the men to have always with them.
"Buy linen, yarn, or anything, for these frocks are of absolute
necessity--nothing can be done without them. His Royal Highness
desires you to acquaint Glenmoriston and Glenco, if they come your
way of this intended march, so that they may go by Taybridge (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."
From his age and infirmities, the Marquis was precluded from taking an
active part in the long course of events which succeeded the unfurling
of the standard at Glenfinnin. He appears to have exercised a gentle,
but certain sway over the conduct of others, and especially to have
possessed a control over the high-spirited Lord George Murray, whose
conduct he did not always approve.[62]
Whilst at Blair, the Marquis was saluted as Duke of Athole by all who
entered his house; but the honour was accompanied by some
mortifications. His younger brother, the Duke of Athole, had taken care
to carry away everything that could be conveyed, and to drive off every
animal that could be driven from his territory. The Marquis had
therefore great difficulty in providing even a moderate entertainment
for the Prince; whilst the army, now grown numerous, were almost
starving. "The priests," writes a contemptuous opponent, "never had a
fitter opportunity to proclaim a general fast than the present. No bull
of the Pope's would ever have been more certain of finding a most exact
and punctual obedience."