PICKLE AS A HIGHLAND CHIEF. 1755–1757
Progress of Pickle—Charles’s last resource—Cluny called to Paris—The Loch
Arkaig hoard—History of Cluny—Breaks his oath to King George—Jacobite
theory of such oaths—Anecdote of Cluny in hiding—Charles gives Pickle a
gold snuff-box—‘A northern —’—Asks for a pension—Death of Old
Glengarry—Pickle becomes chief—The curse of Lochgarry—Pickle writes from
Edinburgh—His report—Wants money—Letter from a ‘Court Trusty’—Pickle’s
pride—Refused a fowling-piece—English account of Pickle—His arrogance and
extortion—Charles’s hopes from France—Macallester the spy—The Prince’s
false nose—Pickle still unpaid—His candour—Charles and the Duc de
Richelieu—A Scottish deputation—James Dawkins publicly abandons the
Prince—Dawkins’s character—The Earl Marischal denounces Charles—He will
not listen to Cluny—Dismisses his servants—Sir Horace Mann’s account of
them—‘The boy that is lost’—English rumours—Charles declines to lead
attack on Minorca—Information from Macallester—Lord Clancarty’s attacks
on the Prince—On Lochgarry—Macallester acts as a prison spy—Jesuit
conspiracy against Charles.
AS the sad star which was born on the Prince’s birth-night waned and
paled, the sun of Pickle’s fortunes climbed the zenith, he came into his
estates by Old Glengarry’s death in September 1754, while, deprived of
the contributions of the Cocoa Tree Club, Charles fell back on his last
resource, the poor remains of the Loch Arkaig treasure. On September 4,
1754, being ‘in great straits,’ he summoned Cluny to Paris, bidding him
bring over ‘all the effects whatsoever that I left in your hands, also
whatever money you can come at.’
Cluny’s history was curious. The Culloden Papers prove that, when
Charles landed in Moidart, Cluny had recently taken the oaths to the
Hanoverian Government. He corresponded with the Lord President, Duncan
Forbes of Culloden, and was as loyal to George II. as possible. But, on
August 29, 1745, Lady Cluny informed Culloden that her lord had been
captured by the Prince’s men. A month later, however, Cluny had not yet
‘parted with his commission’ in a Highland regiment. {277a} Hopes were
still entertained of his deserting the Prince, ‘for if Cluny could have
an independent company to guard us from thieves, it’s what I know he
desires above all things.’ {277b} Cluny, however, continued faithful to
the Jacobite party. Like Lord George Murray, he was a Whig in August, a
partisan of the Stuarts in September. They had, these gentlemen, a short
way with oaths, thus expressed by one of their own poets:
‘Let not the abjuration
Impose upon our nation,
Restrict our hands, whilst _he_ commands,
Through false imagination:
For oaths which are imposed
Can never be supposed
To bind a man, say what they can
While justice is opposed.’
Acting on these principles, Cluny joined in the march to Derby, and was
distinguished in the fight at Clifton. After Culloden he stayed in
Scotland, by Charles’s desire, dwelling in his famous Cage on Ben Alder,
so well described by Mr. Stevenson in ‘Kidnapped.’ The loyalty of his
clan was beyond praise. A gentleman of Clan Vourich, whose grandfather
fought at Culloden, gives me the following anecdote.
The soldiers were, one day, hard on Cluny’s tracks, and they seized a
clansman, whom they compelled to act as guide. He pretended an innocence
bordering on idiotcy, and affected to be specially pleased with the drum,
a thing of which he could not even conceive the use. To humour him, they
slung the drum over his shoulders. Presently he thumped it violently.
Cluny heard the warning and escaped, while the innocence of the crafty
gillie was so well feigned, that he was not even punished.
Cluny came over to France in the autumn of 1754, with what amount of
treasure he could collect. In later days, a very poor exile, he gave a
most eloquent tribute to Charles’s merits. ‘In deliberations he found
him ready, and his opinions generally best; in their execution firm, and
in secrecy impenetrable; his humanity and consideration show’d itself in
strong light, even to his enemies . . . In application and fatigues none
could exceed him.’ {278}
While Charles retired in 1755 with Miss Walkinshaw to Basle, where he
passed for an English physician in search of health, Pickle was not idle.
He had sent in a sheet of notes in April 1754. ‘Colonel Buck was lately
in England, he brought Pickle a fine gold stuff-box from the Young
Pretender, which Pickle showed me,’ that is, to the official who received
his statement. In later years, the family of Glengarry may have been
innocently proud of the Prince’s gift. Pickle added that ‘there could be
no rising in Scotland without the Macdonnells: he is sure that he shall
have the first notice of anything of the kind, and he is sure that the
Young Pretender would attempt nothing without him.’ At the French Court
Pickle only knew the financier, Paris Montmartell, and d’Argenson (not
the _Bête_, but his brother), through d’Argenson’s mistress, Madame de
Pierrecourt. ‘Pickle wishes to be admitted to an audience, and so do I,’
writes an English official, ‘as he grows troublesome, and I don’t care to
have any correspondence with him or any other northern —!’
To this report is appended an appeal of Pickle’s. He asks for a regular
annuity of 500_l._, being out of pocket by his ‘chants’—Highland for
‘jaunts.’ Pickle never got the money; so ungrateful are Governments.
On May 11, Pickle congratulated his employers on having made Charles
‘remove his quarters.’ He adds that Charles and Lord Marischal have
quarrelled. About this time, after Henry Pelham’s death in March 1754,
Pickle favoured his employers with a copy of an English memorial to
Charles. It was purely political; the Prince was advised to purchase
seats in Parliament for his friends. But in May, Charles had neither
friends nor money, and he never cared for the constitutional measures
recommended.
On September 1, 1754, Old Glengarry died, and Pickle, accompanied by a
‘Court Trusty,’ went North to look after his private affairs, for he was
now Chief of the Macdonnells. {280a} He wrote from Edinburgh on
September 14. Pickle wants money, as usual, and brags as usual: he tells
us that Spain had recently supplied Charles with money. The Young
Lochgarry of whom he speaks is Lochgarry’s son, who took service with
England. The Old Lochgarry threw his dirk after the youth, adding a
curse on Lochgarry House as long as it sheltered a servant of the
Hanoverian usurper. Family legend avers that the house was henceforth
haunted by a rapping and knocking ghost, which made the place untenable.
{280b} Part of Pickle’s letter follows:
Add. 32,736.
‘Edinburgh: September 14, 1754.
‘Dr. Sir,—I have heard fully from Lochgary, who acquaints me that the
Young Pretender’s affairs _take a very good turn_, and that he has
lately sent two Expresses to Lochgary earnestly intreating a meeting
with Pickle, and upon Lochgary’s acquainting him of the great
distance Pickle was off, he commanded Lochgary to a rendezvous, and
he set out to meet me the 4th. Instant, and is actually now with me.
I shall very soon have a particular account of the present plan of
operation. I have now the ball at my foot, and may give it what tune
I please, as I am to be allowed largely, if I fairly enter in
Co-partnership. The French King is in a very peaceable humour, but
very ready to take fire if the Jacobites renew their address, which
the Young Pretender assures him of, and he will the readier bestirr
himself, as the English Jacobites hourly torment him. Troops, Scotch
and Irish, are daily offered to be smuggled over; but I have
positively yet refused to admit any. The King of Spain has lately
promised to add greatly to the Young Pretender’s patrimony, and
English Contributors are not wanting on their parts. {281} I suspect
that my letters of late to my friends abroad are stopt, _pray
enquire_, _for I think it very unfair dealings_.
‘I am in a few weeks to go north to put some order to my affairs. I
should have been put to the greatest inconveniency if “21” had not
lent his friendly assistance; but as I have been greatly out of
pocket by the Jants I took for Mr. Pelham, I shan’t be in condition
to continue trade, if I am not soon enabled to pay off the Debts then
contracted. I have said on former occasions so much upon this head
to no effect that I must now be more explicit, and I beg your
friendly assistance in properly representing it to the Duke of
Newcastle. If he thinks that my services, of which I have given
convincing proofs, will answer to his advancing directly eight
hundred Pounds, which is the least that can clear the Debts of my
former Jants, and fix me to the certain payment yearly of Five
hundred at two several terms, he may command anything in my power
upon all occasions. I am sorry to be forced to this explanation, in
which I always expected to be prevented. I am so far from thinking
this extravagant, that I am perswaded it will save them as many
thousands, by discarding that swarm of Videts, which never was in the
least trusted. If the Duke of Newcastle’s constituent was acquainted
with this, I daresay he would esteem the demand reasonable,
considering what he throws away upon others of no interest or power
on either side . . .
‘P.S. Pray let me not be denied the Arms I wanted, and I hope in
case of accidents, you’ll take care of young Lochgary.’
Now comes a letter of the ‘Court Trusty’ who accompanied Pickle to
Scotland, a spy upon a spy. The Trusty’s real name was Bruce, and, what
with Pickle’s pride and General Bland’s distrust, he was in a very
unpleasant quandary.
Add. 32,737.
‘October 10, 1754.
‘Dr. Sir,—I have only to acquaint you since my last, that by my
keeping company with Pickle, the General has upon several occasions
expressed himself very oddly of me, all which might have been
prevented by a hint to him. You must perceive what a pleasant pickle
I am in; It is really hard that I should suffer for doing my duty.
Pickle has promised to write to you this night, if he neglects it I
cannot help it. I have done what I judged right by him. I have all
the reason in the world to think he will be advised by me, but he now
finds his situation altered, and as such must be managed accordingly.
You know him well, all therefore I shall say is, that he is naturally
proud, and his Father’s Death makes him no less so. I wrot you long
ago for advice, whether I should go north with him, or not, to which
you made me no return. This day he told me that he leaves this on
Monday, and insisted for my following him. I did not positively
promise, waiting to see if you write me next Post, which if you don’t
I will follow him, which I hope you’ll approve of, as I will be the
more able to judge of his affairs. I shall not remain long with him,
after which you shall have a faithful Report. The General is best
judge of the part he has acted, tho’ I could have wished he had acted
otherwise for the Interest of the common Cause, but it does not
become me to prescribe Rules. I wish he had got a hint. I find the
Army people here are piqu’d that I should have Pickle’s ear so much,
for they all push to make up to him, thinking to make something of
him. I know the Governor of Fort Augustus is wrot to, to try his
hand upon him, when he goes north, but he is determined to keep at a
distance from them, and to keep in the hands he is now in, and I am
perswaded he can, and will prove usefull, but there is a particular
way of doing it, which you know is the way of the generality benorth
Tay. Your Own
‘CROMWELL. {284}
‘Edinburgh: October 10, 1754.’
Pickle now writes again from Edinburgh, on October 10, 1754. He wants
money, and, as becomes a Highland chief, takes a high tone. He has been
in service as a spy for four years—that is, since autumn 1750. He asks
for 500_l._ a year, and for that will do anything ‘honourable.’ Young
Lochgarry is not well received (he wished to enter the English army), and
Pickle is refused a fowling-piece to shoot his own grouse, because he has
not ‘qualified’ or taken the oaths. This, of course, Pickle could not
do, as he had, in his capacity of spy, to keep on terms with Prince
Charles. Did Young Lochgarry know Pickle to be a traitor?
‘When I waited,’ says Pickle, ‘of General Bland, he did not receve me
as I expected, haughtly refusd the use of a fulsie [fusil] without I
should qualifie. I smiling answer’d, if that was the case, I had
then a right without his permission, but that he could not take it
amiss that I debar’d all under his Comand the pleasure of hunting
upon my grounds, or of any firing, which they can’t have without my
permission, so that I thought favours were reciprocall.’
Oddly enough, we have external testimony to the arrogance of Pickle, now
a little Highland prince among his own clan.
On December 13, 1754, the Governor of Fort Augustus, Colonel Trapaud,
wrote to Dundas of Arniston, the Lord Advocate:
‘Glengarry has behaved, among his clan, since his father’s death,
with the utmost arrogance, insolence, and pride. On his first
arrival to this country he went to Knoydart, and there took the
advantage of his poor ignorant tenants, to oblige them to give up all
their wadsetts, and accept of common interest for their money, which
they all agreed to. On his return to Invergarry he called a meeting
of all his friends and tennants in Glengarry, told them what the
Knoydart people had done, threw them a paper and desired they might
all voluntarily sign it, else he would oblige them by law, but most
of the principal wadsetters [mortgage-holders] refused, on which he
ordered them out of his presence. . . . He has declared that no peat
out of his estate should come to this fort. . . . His whole
behaviour has greatly alienated the affections of his once dearly
beloved followers. I shall take all opportunities of improving this
happy spirit of rebellion against so great a chieftain, which may in
time be productive of some public good.’ {285}
Pickle was not only a traitor, but a bully and an oppressor. Thus
Pickle, in addition to his other failings, was the very worst type of bad
landlord, according to the Governor of Fort Augustus.
We return to the fortunes of the Prince.
The opening of 1755 found Charles still in concealment, probably at
Basle. He could only profess to James his determination ‘never to go
astray from honour and duty’ (March 12, 1755). James pertinently
replied, ‘Do you rightly understand the extensive sense of honour and
duty?’ War clouds were gathering. France and England were at issue in
America, Africa, and India. Braddock’s disaster occurred; he was
defeated and slain by an Indian ambush. Both nations were preparing for
strife; the occasion seemed good for fishing in troubled waters.
D’Argenson notes that it is a fair opportunity to make use of Charles.
Now we scrape acquaintance with a new spy, Oliver Macallester, an Irish
Jacobite adventurer. {286} Macallester, after a long prelude, tells us
that his ‘private affairs’ brought him to Dunkirk in 1755. On returning
to London he was apprehended at Sheerness, an ungrateful caitiff having
laid information to the effect that our injured hero ‘had some connection
with the Ministers of the French Court, or was upon some dangerous
enterprize.’ He was examined at the Secretary of State’s Office (Lord
Holland’s), was released, and returned to Dunkirk, uncompensated for all
this disturbance. Here he abode, on his private business, living much in
the company of the ranting Lord Clancarty. Lord Clare (Comte de Thomond,
of the House of Macnamara) was also in Dunkirk at the time, and attached
himself to the engaging Macallester, whom he invited to Paris. Our fleet
was then unofficially harassing that of France in America.
Meanwhile, France negotiated the secret treaty with Austria, while
Frederick joined hands with England. Dunkirk began to wear a very
warlike aspect, in despite of treaties which bound France to keep it
dismantled. ‘Je savais que nous avions triché avec les Anglais,’ says
d’Argenson. The fortifications were being secretly reconstructed.
D’Argenson adds that now is the moment to give an asylum to the wandering
Prince Charles. ‘The Duchesse d’Aiguillon, a great friend of the Prince,
tells me that some days ago, while she was absent from her house at Ruel,
an ill-dressed stranger came, and waited for her till five in the
morning. Her servants recognised the Prince.’ {287}
The Duchesse d’Aiguillon, Walpole says (‘Letters,’ iv. 390), used to wear
a miniature of Prince Charles in a bracelet. On the reverse was a head
of Our Lord. People did not understand the connection, so Madame de
Rochefort said, ‘The same motto serves for both, _my kingdom is not of
this world_.’ But Charles had not been ‘ill-dressed’ in these old days!
As early as April 23, 1755, M. Ruvigny de Cosne, from Paris, wrote to Sir
Thomas Robinson to the effect that Charles’s proposals to the French
Court in case of war with England had been declined. An Abbé Carraccioli
was being employed as a spy on the Prince. {288} Pickle also came into
play. We offer a report of his information, given in London on April 23,
1755. He knew that Charles had been at Fontainebleau since preparations
for war began, and describes his false nose and other disguises. Charles
was acquainted with the Maréchal de Saxe, and may have got the notion of
the nose from that warrior.
Here follows Pickle, as condensed by Mr. Roberts:
Add. 32,854. ‘April 24, 1755.
‘Mr. Roberts had a meeting last night with the Scotch gentleman,
called _Pickle_. The Young Pretender, he says, has an admirable
Genius for skulking, and is provided with so many disguises, that it
is not so much to be wondered at, that he has hitherto escaped
unobserved, sometimes he wears a long false hose, which they call
“_Nez à la Saxe_,” because Marshal Saxe used to give such to his
Spies, whom he employed. At other times he blackens his eye brows
and beard, and wears a black wig, by which alteration his most
intimate Acquaintance could scarce know him: and in these dresses he
has mixed often in the companies of English Gentlemen travelling
thro’ Flanders, without being suspected.
‘_Pickle_ promises to discover whatever shall come to his knowledge,
that may be worth knowing, he can be most serviceable, he says, by
residing in Scotland, for no applications can be made to any of the
Jacobites there, from abroad, but he must receive early notice of
them, being now, by his Father’s death, at the head of a great Clan
of his name, but he is ready to cross the Sea, whenever it should be
thought it worth the while to send him: which he himself is not
otherwise desirous of doing, as he declares that those Journies have
cost him hitherto double the money that he has received.
‘He hopes to have something given him to make up this deficiency,
and, if he could have a fixed yearly Allowance, he will do everything
that lies in his power to deserve it. He insists upon an inviolable
secrecy, without which his opportunities of sending useful
Intelligences will be lost.’
Pickle does not come on the public scene again for a whole year, except
in the following undated report, where he speaks of Glengarry (himself)
in the third person. His account of an envoy sent to make proposals to
Charles, like those made to the Prince of Orange in 1688, is an error.
Perhaps Pickle was not trusted. The envoy from Scotland to Charles only
proposed, as we shall see, that he should forswear sack, and live cleanly
and like a gentleman.
Add. 32,861.
‘Dear Sir,—I am hopeful you nor friends will take it ill, that I take
the freedom to acquaint you, that my patience is quite worn out by
hankering upon the same subject, for these years past, and still
remaining in suspence without ever coming to a point.
‘I beg leave to assure you, that you may do it to others—but, let my
inclinations be ever so strong, my intentions ever so upright, my
situation will not allow me to remain longer upon this precarious
footing; and, as I never heard from you in any manner of way, I might
readily take umbrage at your long silence, and from thence naturally
conclude it was intended to drop me. But, as I am not of a
suspicious temper, and judge of others’ candour by my own, and that I
always have the highest opinion of yours, and to convince you of
mine, I shan’t hesitate to acquaint you, that I would have wrot
sooner, but that I waited the result of a Gentilman’s journey, how at
this present juncture has the eyes of this part of the Country fixt
upon him—I mean, _Glengary_, into whose confidence I have greatly
insinuated myself. This Gentilman is returnd home within these few
days, from a great tour round several parts of the Highlands, and had
concourse of people from several Clans to wait of him. But this
you’ll hear from Military channels readly before mine, and what
follows, take it as I was informed in the greatest confidence by this
Gentilman.
‘This Country has been twice tampered with since I have been upon
this utstation [Invergarry], and I find it was refer’d to _Glengary_,
as the Clans thought he had a better motion of French policy, of
which they seem to be greatly diffident. The offers being verbal,
and the bearer being non of the greatest consequence, it was
prorog’d; upon which the greatest anxiety has been since exprest to
have _Glengary_ t’other side, at a Conference, that he, in the name
of the Clans, should demand his owne terms.
‘I am for certain inform’d that a Gentilman of distinction from
England went over about two months ago with signatures, Credentials,
and assurances, much of the same nature as that formerly sent to the
Prince of Orange, only the number mentiond by this person did not
amount above sixty. I know nothing of the Person’s names, but this
from good authority I had for certain told me, and that they offer’d
to advance a very considerable sum of mony. It was in consequence of
this that proposals were made here. Prudence will not admitt of my
enlarging further upon this subject, as I am at so great a distance,
I must beg leave to drop it . . . ’
On May 20, 1755, James wrote to the Prince. He had heard of an interview
between Charles and the Duc de Richelieu, ‘and that you had not been much
pleased with your conversation with him.’ James greatly prefers a
peaceful Restoration, but, in the event of war, would not decline foreign
aid. The conduct of Charles, he complains, makes it impossible for him
to treat with friendly Powers. He is left in the dark, and dare not stir
for fear of making a false movement. {292a} On July 10, 1755, Ruvigny de
Cosne is baffled by Charles’s secrecy, and is hunting for traces of Miss
Walkinshaw. On July 23, 1755, Ruvigny de Cosne hears that Charles has
been with Cluny in Paris. On August 16 he hears of Charles at Parma.
Now Charles, on August 15, was really negotiating with his adherents,
whose Memorial, written at his request, is in the Stuart Papers. {292b}
They assure him that he is ‘eyed’ in his family. If he continues
obstinate ‘it would but too much confirm the impudent and villainous
aspersions of Mr. D’s’ (James Pawkins), which, it seems, had nearly
killed Sir Charles Goring, Henry Goring’s brother, ‘with real grief.’
Dawkins had represented the Prince ‘as entirely abandoned to an irregular
debauched life, even to excess, which brought his health, and even his
life daily in danger,’ leaving him ‘in some degree devoid of reason,’
‘obstinate,’ ‘ungrateful,’ ‘unforgiving and revengeful for the very
smallest offence.’ In brief, Dawkins had described Charles as utterly
impossible—‘all thoughts of him must be for ever laid aside’—and Dawkins
backed his opinion by citing that of Henry Goring. The memorialists
therefore adjure Charles to reform. Their candid document is signed
‘C.M.P.’ (obviously Cluny MacPherson) and ‘H.P.,’ probably Sir Hugh
Paterson, Clementina Walkinshaw’s uncle.
Now there is no reason for disputing this evidence, none for doubting the
honesty of Mr. Dawkins in his despairing account of Charles. He was
young, wealthy, adventurous, a scholar. In the preface to their joint
work on Palmyra, Robert Wood—the well-known archæologist, author of a
book on Homer which drew Wolf on to his more famous theory—speaks of Mr.
Dawkins in high terms of praise, he gets the name of ‘a good fellow’ in
Jacobite correspondence as early as 1748. Writing from Berne on May 28,
1756, Arthur Villettes quotes the Earl Marischal (then Governor of
Neufchâtel for Frederick) as making strictures like those of Dawkins on
the Prince. At this time the Earl was preparing to gain his pardon from
George II., and spoke of Charles ‘with the utmost horror and
detestation.’ His life, since 1744, ‘had been one continued scene of
falsehood, ingratitude, and villainy, and his father’s was little
better.’ As regards James, this is absurd; his letters are those of a
heartbroken but kind and honourable parent and Prince. Villettes then
cites the Earl’s account of the mission from Scotland (August 1755)
urging reform on Charles, through the lips of Cluny. The actual envoy
from Scotland cited here is probably not Cluny, but his co-signatory
‘H.P.,’ and he is said to have met Charles at Basle, and to have been
utterly disgusted by his reception. {293}
Now the Earl had a private pique at Charles, ever since he refused to
sail to Scotland with the Prince in a herring-boat, in 1744. He had also
been estranged by Charles’s treatment of Goring in 1754. Moreover, he
was playing for a pardon. We might conceivably discount the Lord
Marischal, and Dr. King’s censures in his ‘Anecdotes,’ for the bitterness
of renegades is proverbial. But we cannot but listen to Dawkins and the
loyal Henry Goring. By 1754 the Prince, it is not to be denied, was
impossible.
Honourable men like the old Laird of Gask, Bishop Forbes, Lord Nairne,
and Andrew Lumisden (later his secretary) were still true to a Prince no
longer true to himself. Even Lumisden he was to drive from him; he could
keep nobody about him but the unwearied Stuart, a servant of his own
name. The play was played out; honour and all was lost. There is,
unhappily, no escape from this conclusion.
Charles declined to listen to the deputation headed by Cluny in August
1755. A secretary must have penned his reply; it is well-spelled, and is
grammatical. ‘Some unworthy people have had the insolence to attack my
character. . . . Conscious of my conduct I despise their low malice. . . .
I have long desired a churchman at your hands to attend me, but my
expectations have hitherto been disappointed.’
Soon he returned to the Mass, as we learn from Macallester.
He was ill and poor. {294} He finally dismissed his servants, including
a companion of his Highland wanderings. He recommends Morrison, his
valet, as a good man to shave and coif his father. The poor fellows
wandered to Rome, and were sent back to France with money. Here is Sir
Horace Mann’s letter about these honest lads:
‘Florence: December 20, 1755.
‘ . . . My correspondent at Rome, having given me previous notice of
the departure from thence of some Livery Servants belonging to the
Pretender’s eldest Son, and that they were to pass through Tuscany, I
found means to set two English men to watch for their arrival, who
pretending to be their friends, insinuated themselves so well into
their company, as to pass the whole evening with them. They were
five in number, and all Scotch. The names of three were Stuart,
Mackdonnel, and Mackenzy. They were dressed alike in the Pretender’s
livery, and said they had been with his Son in Scotland, upon which
the people I employed asked where he was. They answered only, that
they were going to Avignon, and should soon know, and in their
merriment drank “the health of the Boy that is lost and cannot be
found,” upon which one of them answered that he would soon be found.
Another reproved him, and made signs to him to hold his tongue. They
seemed to be in awe of each other.’
There was not much to be got out of the Highlanders, a race of men who
can drink and hold their tongues.
On January 30, 1756, Walton, from Florence, reported that Charles was to
be taken up by Louis XV., to play _un rôle fort distingué_, and—to marry
a daughter of France! {296a} On January 31, Mann had the latest French
courier’s word for it that Charles was in Paris; but Walton added that
James denied this. Pickle came to London (April 2, 1756), but only to
dun for money. ‘Not the smallest artickle has been performed of what was
expected and at first promised.’ Pickle was useless now in Scotland, and
remained unsalaried; so ungrateful are kings. The centre of Jacobite
interest now was France. In the ‘Testament Politique du Maréchal Duc de
Belleisle,’ (1762) it is asserted that Charles was offered the leadership
of the attack on Minorca (April 1756), and that he declined, saying, ‘The
English will do me justice, if they think fit, but I will no longer serve
as a mere scarecrow’ (_épouvantail_). In January 1756, however,
Knyphausen, writing to Frederick from Paris, discredited the idea that
France meant to employ the Prince. {296b}
Turn we to Mr. Macallester for more minute indications.
Macallester was now acting as led captain and henchman to the one-eyed
Lord Clancarty, who began to rail in good set terms against all and
sundry. For his own purposes, ‘for just and powerful reasons,’
Macallester kept a journal of these libellous remarks, obviously for use
against Clancarty. Living at that nobleman’s table, Macallester played
his favourite part of spy for the mere love of the profession. He
writes:
‘Tuesday, January 11, 1757.—When we had drunk hard after supper he
broke out, saying, “By God! dear Mac, I’ll tell you a secret you
don’t know; there is not a greater scoundrel on the face of the earth
than that same Prince; he is in his heart a coward and a poltroon;
would rather live in a garret with some Scotch thieves, to drink and
smoak, than serve me, or any of those who have lost our estates for
his family and himself. . . . He is so great a scoundrel that he
will lie even when drunk: a time when all other men’s hearts are most
open, and will speak the truth, or what they think . . .
‘He damned himself if he did not love an Irish drummer better than
any of the breed. “The Prince has no more religion,” said this pious
enthusiast, “than one of my coach-horses.” . . . He asked me if I
knew Jemmy Dawkins. I said I did not. “He could give you an account
of them,” said he, “but Lord Marischal has given the true character
of the Prince, and certified under his hand to the people of England
what a scoundrel he is {297} . . . The Prince had the _canaille_ of
Scotland to assist him, thieves, robbers, and the like. . . ”’
The Prince had confided to Clancarty the English Jacobites’ desire that
he would put away Miss Walkinshaw. ‘The Prince, swearing, said he would
not put away a cat to please such fellows;’ but, as Lord Clancarty never
opened his mouth without a curse, his evidence is not valuable. On March
8, hearing that Lochgarry was in the neighbourhood, Clancarty called him
a ‘thief and a cow-stealer,’ and bade the footman lock up the plate! The
brave Lochgarry, however, came to dinner, as being unaware of his
Lordship’s sentiments.
Enough of the elegant conversation of this one-eyed, slovenly Irish
nobleman, whom we later find passing his Christmas with Prince Charles.
{298} Mr. Macallester now made two new friends, the adventurous Dumont
and a Mr. Lewis. In July 1757, Lewis and Macallester went to Paris, and
were much with Lord Clare (de Thomond). In December, Lord Clancarty came
hunting for our spy, ‘raging like a madman’ after Macallester, much to
that hero’s discomposure, for, being as silly as he was base, he had let
out the secret of his ‘Clancarty Elegant Extracts.’ His Lordship, in
fact, accused Macallester of showing all his letters to Lord Clare, whom
Clancarty hated. He then gave Macallester the lie, and next apologised;
in fact, he behaved like Sir Francis Clavering. Before publishing his
book, Macallester tried to ‘blackmail’ Clancarty. ‘His Lordship is now
secretly and fully advertised that this matter is going to the press,’
and, indeed, it was matter to make the Irish peer uncomfortable in
France, where he had consistently reviled the King.
It is probable that Macallester was now engaged in the French secret
police.
He admits that he acted as a _mouton_, or prison spy, and gives a
dreadful account of the horrors of Galbanon, where men lay in the dark
and dirt for half a lifetime. Macallester next proses endlessly on the
alleged Jesuit connection with Damien’s attack on Lous XV., and insists
that the Jesuits, nobody knows why, meant to assassinate Prince Charles.
He was in very little danger from Jesuits!