MRS. THOMS01.e . S MEMOIRS OF THE JACOBITES. ALTHOUGH this appears so
soon after Mr. H. Jesse's publication on the same subject, there is, thus far, no kind of clashing between the two books. Mr. Jesse compressed the two Pretenders and their adherents into a couple of volumes ; Mrs. Thomson requires a similar space for the Memoirs of the Earl of Mar, the incapable commander-in-chief of the re- bellion—the unfortunate Earl of Derwentwater—the Master of Sinclair, a subordinate person in that effort, and in private life an unmitigated ruffian—the Earl of Nithisdale, who escaped by the exertions of his wife—and Viscount Kenmure, who suffered with Derwentwater. All these were engaged in the rebellion of 1715: the heroes of 1745 in the present volumes are the " gentle Loehiel," the notorious Lord Lovat, and the Marquis of Tullibardine. The nominal life of Sir John Maclean embraces the whole generation from Cromwell to George the Third ; whilst Rob Roy Macgregor, who can scarcely be said to have borne any part in the affair of 1715, beyond plundering the country, seems intro- duced on account of his celebrity in fiction, and for the Newgate-Calendar kind of anecdotes Mrs. Thomson has collected.
The nature of the respective materials is equally different. Mr. Jesse took from the readiest sources whatever he found adapted to his purpose, including large slices from the history of the Young Pretender's cam- paign, and threw it together in a loose gossipy sort of style, rather anec- dotical than biographical. Mrs. Thomson has set to work with more system and research. Besides the obvious sources, she has consulted the fugitive pub- lications of the time, and the various contemporary manuscripts that have of late been printed under the auspices of different clubs. She also appears to have had recourse to manuscript authorities in the British Museum and the State Paper Oftice,—referring the reader to the latter ! and many family papers have been placed at her disposal by the descendants of the Jacobites upon whose lives she is engaged. In addition to these labours of the study, Mrs. Thomson seems to have observed living nature. At least she sometimes speaks of particular scenes as if she were describing them from actual knowledge ; and where this is not the case, she borrows the language of the tourist nearest the age, so as to illustrate her lives by the landscape in which the incident occurred. Something of the novelist ap- pears, too, in the skill with which these accessories are introduced, and the story is told in such a way as to make the most of it. This greater pains and elaboration has produced a series of more com- plete and comprehensive memoirs, not to say family histories, than might have been thought practicable. Yet it may be doubted whether the subjects were worth this elaborate display. As we observed in noticing Mr. Jesse's book, the interest of the Jacobites' fortunes rests Upon the two rebellions ; if not, indeed, wholly on that of 1745—so feeble and hopeless was the outbreak of 1715. The exploit of Charles Edward, though a selfish and ill-considered act, is a very striking episode of ro- mantic history ; but history has done it full justice, both general and par- ticular. All that there was interesting to tell connected with the actors of the drama has been told already. Except to Scottish genealogists, the origin and events of the particular families have little attraction, and would be more in place in heraldic works. The persons, however asiable SOme of them may have been, had not sufficient intellect or success to excite a wish to trace their early career : such moral as their lives con- tain is pointed by the axe and bills of attainder. Some of the stronger characters—as the Master of Sinclair and Lord Lovat—display in their Conduct acts of ruffianism which strongly mark the time and the manners of Scotland : but these are rather illustrative anecdotes than biography ; and it is by no means clear that Jesse's plan is not the best for any one Possessing the materials of Mrs. Thomson and using their spirit. She will reject nothing ; she is too elaborate upon extraneous things, and makes too much of her subject. This gives the effect of prolixity, though as regards style she is not prolix ; but she seems to have paid little attention to revision. On two occasions she repeats the same thing twice over in the interval of a few pages ; and her narrative is sometimes con- fused in its chronology.
As the story stands in history, there is much to excite sympathy : in telling all, the weaknesses of humanity and the vices of the age stand out rather too much. Mrs. Thomson is herself a strong Jacobite on the sentimental ground. Her sympathies are all with the school of " the right divine of kings to govern wrong." She looks upon the execution of Derwentwater aud Kenmure as a sort of human sacrifice to a German idol,—though the landing of the Old Pretender, when all reasonable hope had ceased, was the determining cause of their death; and she wails over the fate of the three Lords who suffered in 1745,—as if to be a Jacobite ab- solved men from all moral responsibility and the consequences of their acts. But she altogether forgets the blood they shed in the field, the misery they carried into families, and the loss they inflicted upon the counties they ravaged, when the most intelligent amongst them had not the slightest hopes of success. But, though her views are weak and womanish, her facts are honestly stated, and they place the Jacobites, so far as she goes, in the worst point of view. Except Lochiel, the men of capacity had neither principle nor affection. They cared nothing for the cause, being in fact traitors to both sides ; but were desperate in fortune or prospects, and looked to a civil war, and the possibility of a change in dynasty, as a means of advancing themselves, or giving their blasted characters a chance under a new state of things. The rest were persons of feeble cha- racter and weak judgment, who suffered themselves to be persuaded into undertakings which, with such penetration as they had, many saw to be hopeless. Reading over again Lady Nithisdale's account of the way in which she managed her husband's escape, we see the intrigante quite as conspicuous as the heroine : she seems to have acted the succession of lies with a congenial spirit, and con amore to have told more fibs than there was occasion for, especially in her subsequent journey to Scotland about papers and deeds, when the necessity which had stimulated her in London no longer existed. Lochiel himself would not move till he had protected his property by taking a security from the Pretender for the value of his estate,—though one would scarcely have thought it a very available security.* From some papers in the State Paper Office Der- wentwater (as well as others) appears to have forced dependents into the rebellion against their will, by a violence that would not be endured now ; and it would seem that none of the revolters of 1715 expected to suffer. They appear to have thought that Government would not proceed against men of such family and consequence. One would suppose that the same notion actuated the whole of the "gentlemen," from the follow- ing picture of their conduct in the Tower.
PRISONS AND PRISONERS DI 1715.
The subsequent sufferings of these brave men [the Jacobites of 1715] were aggravated by the abuses which then existed in the state prisons of England. The condition of these receptacles of wo, at that period, beggars all de-. scription. Corruption and extortion gave every advantage to those who could command money enough to purchase luxuries at an enormous cost. Oppression and an utter carelessness of the wellbeing of the captive, pressed hardly upon those who were poor. No annals can convey a more heartrending description of the sufferings of the prisoners confined in county gaols, than their own touching and heartfelt appeals, some of which are to be found in the State Paper Office. In the Tower, especially, it appears from a diary kept by a gentleman who WRS confined there, that the greatest extortion was openly practised. Mr. Forster and a Mr. Anderton, who were allowed to live in the Governor's house, were charged the sum of five pounds a week for their lodging and diet ; a demand which, more than a century ago, was deemed enormous. Several of the Highland chiefs, and among them the celebrated Brigadier Mackintosh, were "clapped up in places of less accommodation, for which, nevertheless, they were charged as much as would have almost paid the rent of the best houses in St. James's &pare and Piccadilly." Mr. Forster, it must be added, was obliged to pay sixtygumeas for his privilege of living in the Governor's house; andllr. Anderton to give a bribe of twenty guineas for having his irons off. A similar tax was made upon every one who entered, and who could pay; and they were thankful to proffer the sum of twenty guineas, the usual demand, to be free from irons. It was, indeed, not the mere freedom from chains for which they paid, but for the power of effect- ing their escape. Upon every one who did not choose to be turnedover to the common side, a demand was made of ten guineas fee, besides two guineas weekly for lodging, although in some rooms men lay four in a bed. Presents were also given privately; so that, in three or four months' time, three or four thousand pounds were paid by the prisoners to their gaolers. Many of the prisoners being men of fortune, their tables were of the =St luxurious description; forty shillings was often paid for a dish of peas and beans, and thirty shillings for a dish of fish; and this fare, so unlike that of im- prisonment, was accompanied by the richest French wines. The vicious excesses and indecorums which went on in the Tower, among the state prisoners, are said to have scandalized the graver lookers-on. The subsequent distress and misery which ensued may, of course, be traced in part to this cause. Lord Derwentwater, ever decorous and elevated in his deportment, was shocked at the wayward and reckless conduct of some of the Jacobites on their road to Lon- don, and told one of the King's officers at Barnet, that these prisoners "were only fit for Bedlam." To this it was remarked, that they were only tit for Bridewell. Whilst hopes of life continued, this rebuke still applied. The prisoners were aided in their excesses by the enthusiasm of the fair sex. The following extract froan another obscure work, "The History of the Press-yard," is too curious to be omitted. "That while they [the prisoners] flattered themselves with hopes of life, which they were made to believe were the necessary consequences of a surrender at discretion, they did, without any retrospect to the crimes they war committed for, live in so profuse a manner, and fared so voluptuously, through the means of daily visitants and helps from abroad, that money circulated very plentifully; and while it was difficult to change a guinea almost at any house in the street, nothing was more easy than to have silver for gold to any quantity, and gold for silver, in the prison,—those of the fair sex, from persona of the first rank to tradesmen's wives and daughters, making a sacrifice of their .husbands' and parents' rings, and other precious moveables, for the use of those prisoners; SO that till the trial of the condemned lords was over, and that the Earl of.Derwent- water and Viscount Kenmore were beheaded, there was scarce anytlung to be * According to the Pretender's own statement at third or fourth hand, it was of use ; for this was the reason which caused Charles Edward to get Loehiel a Coloneky in the French service, if he got it.
men among them but flaunting apparel, venison pasties, hams, chickens, and other costly meats, with plenty of wine
The following from one of the original letters of Mar, written at Perth in January 1716, soon after the Pretender's arrival, contains a singular account of minor difficulties.
"My cloathes are almost all worn out, haveing left some at the battle [ Sher- riffrnuir]: I know not if you could get me any made and sent from Edinburgh; but if you could, I should be glad of it. Titer's one Bird was soy tayler, and I belive has my measur, or some old cloathes of mine, that he could make them by. Perhaps he's a Whig the', and will not do it- I would have them deep blew, laced with gold, but not on the seams. I have but one starr and no riban; but 'tis no great matter for that—a better man then I [the Pretender] is in the same case; be has only one scrub, one which he got made since he came, and no right riban. I believe ther's neither of that kind of blew nor green riban to be got at Edin- burgh; but if you could get some tolorablie like it, you send some of both. Wine is like to be a more sensible want. We got a little Burgundy for the King, but it is out; and tho' we know of a little more, I'm afraid we shall scarce get it brought here; and he does not like clarit, but what you'l think odd, he likes ale tolerably well. I hope they will send us some from France; but with this wind nothing can come from thence. George Hamilton said on Saturday last, and I belive is there long e'er now; which I heartily wish he may, and I hope you shall soon see the effects of his going, with what he caned with him."
THE SEAT OF THE DERWENTWATERS.
In the vale of Hexhani, on the summit of a steep hill, clothed with wood, and washed at its base by a rivulet called the Devil's Water, stand the ruins of Dil- stone Castle. A bridge of a single arch forms the approach to the castle or mansion; the stream, then mingling its rapid waters with those of the Tyne, rushes over rocks into a deep dell embowered with trees, above a hundred feet
• in height, and casting a deep gloom over the sounding waters beneath their branches.
Through the arch of the bridge a mill, an object ever associated with peace and plenty, is seen; and beyond it the eye rests upon the bare, dilapidated walls of the castle- Its halls, its stairs, its painted chambers, may still be traced; its broken towers command a view of romantic beauty; but all around it is desolate and ruined, like the once proud and honoured family who dwelt beneath its roof.
THE OLD PRETENDER.
His countenance, to judge by the most authentic portraits of this prince, had none of the meditative character of that of Charles the First, whom the Chevalier was popularly said to resemble: neither had it the sweetness which is expressed by every feature of that unhappy Monarch, nor had his countenance the pensive- ness which wins upon the beholder who gazes upon the portraits of Charles. The eyes of the Chevalier were light hazel, his face was pale and long, and in the full- ness of the lips he resembled his mother, Mary of Modena. To this physiognomy, on which it is said a smile was rarely seen to play, were added, according to the account of a contemporary, from whose narrative we will borrow a further de- scription, "a speech grave, and not very clearly expressive of his thoughts, nor over much to the purpose; his words were few, and his behaviour and temper seemed always composed. "What he was in his diversions we know not: here was no room for such things. It was no time for mirth. Neither can I say I ever saw, him smile. Those who speak so positively of his being like King James the Seventh, must excuse me for saying that it seems to say they either never saw this person or never saw King James the Seventh: and yet I must not conceal, that when we saw the man whom they called our King, we found ourselves not at all animated by his presence; and if he was disappointed in us, we were tenfold more so in him. • We saw nothing in him that looked like spirit. He never appeared with cheer- fulness and vigour to animate us: our men began to despise him; some asked if • he could speak. His countenance looked extremely heavy. He cared not to come abroad among us soldiers, or to see us handle our arms to do our exercise. Some said the circumstances he found us in dejected him. I am sure the figure he made dejected us; and had he sent us but five thousand men of good troops, and never himself come, we had done other things than we have done. At the approach of that crisis when he was to defend his pretensions, and either lose his life or gain a crown, I think, as his affairs were situated, no man can say that his appearing grave and composed was a token of his want of thought, but rather of a significant anxiety grounded on the prospect of his inevitable ruin, which he could not be so void of sense as not to see plainly before him —at least, when he
came to see how inconsistent his measures were, how unsteady the resolution of his guides, and how impossible it was to make them agree with one another."
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