This remarkable quality of compassion and mercy manifested itself in two other ways during the prince’s sojourn in Edinburgh. It was put to him that he ought to send an envoy to London to try to negotiate a cartel for prisoners of war. The advantages of such an arrangement for the Jacobites would be considerable. Their men would know that if taken captive they would be treated as prisoners of war, not traitors. Recruitment would burgeon, for the main deterrent to joining Jacobite ranks would have been removed.65 The prince listened intently. What if the Whigs refused to deal with ‘traitors’, as was very likely? In that case, said his advisers, it should be made clear that the Jacobites would give no quarter, take no prisoners. The prince refused outright. He had no intention either of committing such barbarity or even of threatening it. If London called his bluff, he would either lose credibility or be reduced to becoming a cold-blooded murderer. Neither option was acceptable.
The prince’s merciful nature was soon revealed in another context. On 9 October Strickland presided over a court-martial at Holyrood on six deserters from Lochiel’s regiment. Condemned to die by firing squad at dawn on the 10th, they were reprieved and given a free pardon by the prince in consideration of their behaviour at Prestonpans. The only stipulation he made was that they should not desert again.66
Yet another instance in which the prince sacrificed his own best interests to his merciful nature occurred during the raid on Duncan Forbes’s home by the Frasers on the night of 15–16 October.67 Although the Frasers were beaten off, their chief Lord Lovat claimed that the raid would have succeeded if only Charles Edward’s warrant contained the words ‘dead or alive’. Again, such ruthlessness was foreign to the prince. And the seizure of Forbes at this moment could have had important consequences, as it would have prevented Norman Macleod from joining with the northern clans.68
Compassion was not the only positive quality in evidence during this brief period of success in the prince’s life. He displayed a pleasing fondness for humour too. An English Whig in Edinburgh was asked if he wished to kiss the prince’s hand and replied that he would rather kiss the Pope’s toe. The prince was hugely taken with this, sought the man out and joshed him about the Pope’s toe. The Whig became a reluctant admirer and penned a useful portrait of Charles Edward at this time:
He is handsome, he is manly, sedate and quick, he has a good deal of cheerfulness but not many words, he likes better to hear others talk than … to engross the conversation to himself, he cares not for eating above once a day or for more than three hours sleep of a night. He does all his business and writes his letters while others are asleep. He is capable of any fatigue and is the first to wade through a river and get wet sho’ed all the day.69
While Charles Edward won golden opinions for his compassion, humanity and moderation, his life in Edinburgh settled into a busy and active routine. Preparations were made for an invasion of England on the assumption that French aid was on its way. Messengers were sent again to summon the Skye chiefs. The third and lesser chieftain, Mackinnon of Mackinnon, heeded the call. Sir Alexander MacDonald confessed himself sorely tempted after Prestonpans, but an opportune letter from Duncan Forbes kept him in the Hanoverian fold.70
In general, the response from the clans who had earlier held aloof was disappointing. The rich dividends expected from Cope’s defeat did not materialise. Lovat was still playing a double game. Kinlochmoidart and Barisdale were therefore sent north with urgent appeals to him from the prince.71
Along with the shortage of men went scarcity of money. Hay of Restalrig was sent to Glasgow to enforce the previous demand for £15,000.72 Everywhere Jacobite agents were scattered in search of funds: loans, exactions, excise, the land tax.73 Lord Ogilvy, who came in with a regiment of Lowlanders in early October, was sent to collect the excise in Angus.74 But the great unsung hero of October 1745 was certainly the twenty-one-year-old Lord Lewis Gordon. His importance came from his senior position in the Gordon family. It was thought possible that he could act as a counterweight to the duke of Gordon and raise the feudal levies.75 Seeing clearly the key role that Lord Lewis could play in the north-east, Charles Edward appointed him lord-lieutenant of Aberdeen and Banffshire.76 His orders were to levy the public monies, borrow other funds and raise a second Jacobite army in the north.77
The first army, meanwhile, was not proving easy to administer. It was essential that enemy spies be prevented from discovering the true numbers in the Jacobite force. It was therefore necessary to keep the army constantly on the move, from billet to bivouac. The prince could never review it as a whole, only in discrete portions.78 A few days after the occupation of Edinburgh, all Jacobite troops, except the guards on the castle and at Holyrood palace, were removed to a camp at Duddingston, with outposts in some of the villages. Every day the prince went out to review and encourage the clansmen. Occasionally he spent a night among them.79 In the middle of October, because of the cold, the camp at Duddingston was wound up, the tents struck, and the men billeted in Musselburgh and other villages around Edinburgh.80 In this way the prince and Lochiel, another tireless worker, kept the men’s morale high.81 More importantly, they successfully camouflaged their small numbers, with the result that Marshal Wade, the new Hanoverian Commander in Chief, did not dare to enter Scotland and the Jacobites had ample time in which to build up their strength.82
The prince’s sojourn at Edinburgh in October was in many ways the high point of his life. These were the great days, the ones he looked back on ever afterwards through a nostalgic mist. A typical day would see a council at Holyrood at 10 a.m., followed by a public dinner with his officers, where the crowds would be encouraged to come and view him. In the afternoon, escorted by Elcho’s blue-coated Lifeguards, he would ride out to review his army, again watched by crowds. Then it was back to receive his hordes of female admirers before a public supper, followed by a ball or musical soirée.83
The great ladies of Edinburgh were in thrall to him, to a woman, it seemed. All Jacobite sources, even those hostile to Charles Edward (such as Elcho’s) are in agreement on this. Lest it be thought this is simply an effect of Stuart hagiography, here is the prince’s most formidable enemy, Duncan Forbes, on the subject: ‘All the fine ladies, if you will except one or two, became passionately fond of the young adventurer and used all their arts and industry for him in the most intemperate manner.’84
But the more the women of Edinburgh set their caps at him, the more the prince remained aloof. He consented to have the most sumptuous dances put on, but declined to dance himself. When remonstrated with, he replied: ‘I have now another air to dance, and until that be finished, I’ll dance no other.’85 His was the posture of chaste Galahad pursuing the Holy Grail. His decision to sublimate all his energies in order to attain his goal was sometimes misinterpreted. The well-known incident when he stroked the beard of one of his Highland guards, saying: ‘These are the beautiful girls I must court now,’86 has sometimes been interpreted as evidence of latent or repressed homosexuality. All conquerors are supposed to be rampant womanisers, but this proposition is simple-minded. And we shall see later, there was a clear-cut correlation in the prince’s mind between sexual abstinence and success (and the reverse). He is only one of dozens of historical figures who have taken the same view. Nevertheless, the combination of regal authority, magical charisma and unavailability – making him a kind of priest-king – was an infallible formula for attracting an ardent female following.
A key day during the month at Holyrood was 10 October, when the prince issued his proclamations, principally a manifesto of future policy in both England and Scotland. Since the most damaging charge against the House of Stuart in the eyes of the aristocracy (and some of the gentry) was that they would dismantle the financial system introduced by the 1688 Revolution, Charles Edward attempted to reassure his audience by stating that he would refer the entire question of the National Debt to a future Parliament.87
An even more pressing issue for the Scots was the Act of Un
ion. Here the prince hedged, promising that his first Parliament would revise it, but saying nothing about outright repeal.88 This was a case of the prince’s wriggling on the hook. In this instance French and Scottish interests coincided, but diverged from those of the House of Stuart. Since the ‘natural’ economic conflict between England and France would persist whoever was on the English throne (whether Stuart or Hanoverian), France generally preferred a Stuart restoration to Scotland alone, keeping the northern kingdom as a permanent thorn in England’s flesh. And Scottish nationalism could be assimilated to Jacobitism only if it was clear that the Jacobites wanted repeal of the Act of Union and the creation of an independent kingdom of Scotia.
This did not suit the Stuarts. They always and undeviatingly wanted restoration to all three kingdoms. ‘Rien de partage. Tout ou rien’ became the formulaic battle-cry of the prince in all his later jousts with the French ministers. This conflict between Stuart aspirations and the ambitions of the Scottish Jacobites finally found its disastrous resolution at Derby. For the time being the prince had to dissemble, to appear to promise what he had no intention of delivering. There was a terrible reckoning later. Ambivalence is fatal at decisive moments of history. French ambivalence over the Stuarts in 1745–6 cost them their best-ever chance to unseat their global rivals. Charles Edward’s ambivalence on Scotland was to lead to the débâcle at Derby.
One can sympathise with his prevarications on this crucial issue. After all, all his education and upbringing had inculcated the idea that he was de jure heir apparent to the throne of England, as well as Scotland. The irony is that, if he had categorically refused to give any assurances about the repeal of the Act of Union in his proclamations, he would have been better served in the long run than by his actual hints and half-promises. For one thing, he would never have been able to carry the council with him on the decision to invade England. Lord George Murray was said to have found the prince’s manifesto anachronistic.89 It was hardly that; it was merely (and disastrously) studiedly ambiguous.
In his own mind Charles Edward was always clear that he would proceed to England once his numbers were respectable. From this viewpoint October 1745 was a month of mixed fortunes. The prince received various additions to his strength: from Lord Ogilvy, from Farquharson of Monaltrie, from viscount Dundee.90 There were fresh levies from the Lowlands.91 Glenbucket and Pitsligo brought in welcome recruits from Aberdeen and Banffshire.92 The chief of Mackinnon brought in his clan.93 One hundred MacGregors from Balquhidder came in.94 Other notable recruits were Arthur Elphinstone (later Lord Balmerino) and the Master of Strathallan.95 Tullibardine, jealous at the eminence attained by his younger brother Lord George Murray, pushed himself to the limit to raise a further contingent of Athollmen in his own right.96 Finally, at the very end of October, Cluny MacPherson brought in his clan.97 The Frasers under Lord Lovat were rumoured to be on the point of joining. The Mackintoshes, initially held in reluctant obedience to the authorities by their pro-Hanoverian chief, had been raised for the Jacobites in his absence by his wife Lady Anne (‘colonel Anne’ of Jacobite legend).98
But against this there were some grave disappointments and setbacks. The earl of Nithsdale and viscount Kenmure joined the prince, only to desert the next day when they learned of the exiguous numbers in his army.99 Barisdale’s recruiting drive in the north ended in fiasco. This ferocious and treacherous ruffian, one of the few really bad eggs in the Jacobite basket, had a very crude idea of enlisting men. This consisted of plying them with whisky until they were too drunk to know what they were signing up for. When they sobered up next day and found themselves in the Jacobite army, most of the ‘recruits’ promptly decamped.100
More seriously, Lord Lovat had still not committed himself.101 Most ominously of all, the myth of the invincibility of the prince’s Highlanders took a beating, albeit in minor engagements. A body of Macleans, on the march to Edinburgh to join the prince, was attacked, disarmed and dispersed by Lt-Col. Campbell and the Argyllshire militia (en route to join Lord Loudoun’s anti-Jacobite standard).102 The same Colonel Campbell struck again just as the prince crossed the border into England, this time checking MacGregor of Glengyle.103
The prince seemed to be barely holding his own. Then on 14 October came the event he had hoped and prayed for. Momentarily all his critics were silenced, all doubters dumbfounded. There arrived at Montrose, the marquis d’Eguilles, special envoy from Louis XV.104 At last, it seemed, the French were coming.
13
Invasion!
(October-December 1745)
TO EXPLAIN D’EGUILLES’S sudden advent at Montrose, we must examine the impact in Europe of the prince’s thunderbolt arrival in Scotland and his lightning successes thereafter. So totally unexpected was his landing at Moidart that all but the best-informed European sources remained incredulous for many months.1
The Pope knew better. From the very beginning of the ’45, Benedict XIV followed the drama with avid interest.2 Although his loyalties were divided – he feared that an unsuccessful Jacobite rising would lead to the full visitation of the Penal Laws on his flock in England – he decided to back the Stuarts discreetly with money.3 Although reports of vast numbers of Roman crowns paid over in exchange for a pledge of the full restoration of Catholicism in England were pure fantasy,4 Benedict did make money available to James over and above the cash raised in the Monte di Pietà.5
This extra sum was given to Henry Stuart when he left Rome for France at the end of August 1745.6 At news of the prince’s landing in Scotland, James prised the younger Stuart prince out of his hermit-like existence of prayer and asceticism and ordered him to go to Versailles to lobby on his brother’s behalf. Thus began Henry’s one and only venture into the world of secular politics. It was to be an ill-starred eighteen months, culminating in disaster.
When news of Prestonpans came in, and especially when Benedict was assured by Tencin that France intended to throw its weight behind the rising, the Pope sent a further sum of money to Henry.7 Charles Edward’s run of success in late 1745 amazed and delighted the Pope.8 He began to allow himself to hope that he would live to see Catholicism restored in England, that sometime island of saints now occupied by demons, as he put it.9
French reaction was more circumspect. The initial reaction at Versailles had been stupefaction. Then, as the prince began to establish himself in Scotland and the Jacobite pressure groups got down to serious lobbying,10 Louis XV and his ministers had to take firm decisions on what to do next. This, of course, was what Louis XV hated most. The divisions among his ministers gave him the excuse to temporise, always his natural reaction.
It was obvious that swift action was needed. An expedition should at once have been sent to Scotland to consolidate the prince’s bridgehead. But Louis dithered. Although Tencin and the marquis d’Argenson urged an immediate troop landing in Scotland, the influential Saxe/Noailles clique favoured initiatives on the Continent, using the rising as a diversion.11 The other problem about a Scottish expedition was that it meant using the Brest fleet. But Maurepas already had this earmarked for the projected reconquest of Louisbourg in north America.
Louis XV solved these conflicting demands by stalling and playing for time. He sent d’Eguilles on a fact-finding mission: his brief was to ascertain the numbers in the Jacobite army, sound the prince’s intentions, and in general to gauge the strength of pro-Stuart feeling in Britain.
The ultimate downfall of all French efforts on behalf of the Jacobites in 1745–6 sprang from that one decision. By the time d’Eguilles’s first dispatches reached Versailles, the prince was already embarking on his ill-fated venture into England. The only thing left for the French to do then was to mount a cross-Channel expedition. But an invasion of England was at once more hazardous and less consonant with French interests than a landing in Scotland. This is not to say that Louis was not serious in his desire to help the prince: he was, and his English invasion project of 1745–6 was no feint. But by his own incompetence a
s much as by the divisions between his ministers of state, he left himself with having to implement the far tougher option when a moment’s decisiveness could have secured him the easier one.12
Yet whatever the ultimate consequences of the d’Eguilles mission, his immediate impact on arrival in Scotland was sensational. Here was the living proof of the efficacy of the prince’s ‘rolling strategy’. Everything he had said to the clan leaders appeared true. France was not just ‘bound to’ join in; now she could be seen to be already doing so.
This inference was strengthened by the number of small French ships that got through to Scottish ports in October. Louis XV began his support for Charles Edward with pump-priming: he ordered Maurepas to send all available privateers to Scotland with men and materiel. Between 9–19 October four vessels from France (including the one bringing d’Eguilles himself) landed at Montrose and Stone-haven with artillery and stores.13 On the advice of James Grant, a siege engineer in French service who accompanied the big guns, the materiel was transported by the Athollmen and the MacPhersons to Edinburgh, then ferried across the Forth to Alloa.14 Batteries were then erected on both sides of the river to secure the capital against any attempt by British cruisers to force passage. There were rumours that the Whigs would attempt an amphibious operation: a blockade running up the Forth combined with a sortie in force from the castle.15
Bonnie Prince Charlie: Charles Edward Stuart (Pimlico) Page 22