Adventures by Land. I. THE ADVENTURES OF PRINCE CHARLES AND HIS WANDERINGS AFTER HIS DEFEAT AT CULLODEN. ET us imagine ourselves seated in an old English manor-house in some of the northern counties, about the year 1745; the proprietor is a friend of the exiled Stuart family; George the Second is not a king to him; the sovereign of his heart is in another land, and the squire hopes soon to see the son of James the Third* marching through the English counties to London. He toasts "the king," meaning him whom some call the "Pretender;" hates Hanover, and raves at the mention of William III. There is the jacobite of 1745,—a generoushearted man, full of a certain chivalrous devotion for a family whose faults were punished in the persons of their gallant adherents. What a strife did this term "jacobite " stir up in Old England during the latter part of the seventeenth and great part of the eighteenth century! First came the furious *The son of James II. was acknowledged by Louis XIV. of France, as James III. of England. 66 struggle immediately following the vote which declared that James II. had abdicated " the throne. The battle of the Boyne did not crush the hopes of the Jacobites; William was not immortal; some change might be expected after his death; and during the reign of Anne there was much to encourage those who hoped for the return of the direct Stuart line. 66 But a change came over the Jacobites upon the accession of George I. The tide of partizanship could no longer be restrained, and the rising of 1715 alarmed the admirers of the "Glorious Revolution." George I. heard that the standard of another dynasty had been raised in Scotland, and James III. proclaimed king. This effort of the Jacobites was at length crushed, the older Pretender" retired to France, and some of his most devoted adherents perished on the scaffold. For thirty years the Jacobites smothered their indignation in silence or in the retreats of their homes. A new race had then grown up; the sons had imbibed from their fathers the same devotion for the exiled princes which had led, in 1715, many gallant men to death in the field, or on the scaffold. This enthusiasm could not expend itself in toasts and words; work must be found, and work was found. The "old Pretender," who had raised the storm in 1715, was, in 1745, aged and feeble; the task of heading an invasion into England was therefore committed to his son, Prince Charles Edward. From the summer of 1745 to April 1746, the land was distracted by all the wild feelings excited by civil war. The prince raised his standard in Scotland, in August, and by daring marches advanced into England as far as Derby by December 4th; thence he retreated towards Scotland, the Duke of Cumberland following with the royal army, and the prince was at last compelled to turn upon his pursuers, and fight the battle of Culloden, April the 16th, 1746. There, in thirty minutes, perished for ever all the hopes of the Jacobites-there the Stuart banner was beaten to the dust. At this point the adventures of the prince commence; he escaped from the fatal field, accompanied by a few gentlemen, and was compelled to enter upon that course of romantic peril which ultimately led to his escape. When all hope of restoring the battle was over, the prince retreated to the banks of the river Nairn, and thence, with ten gentlemen, hastened to the seat of Lord Lovat, who was so soon to die a traitor's death.* The moment when the prince and his ruined party galloped up the glen towards the abode of Lovat, must have been one of the most agonizing in the long life of that unprincipled politician. Lovat had at one time supported the old Pretender, but afterwards favoured the house of Brunswick; and again, in 1745, his rage for plotting induced him to co-operate with the insurgents, and hazard all in this world upon the chance of success. The die had been cast-the game was lost at Culloden, and ruin was hastening towards Lovat. He, however, concealed his feelings, listened to the prince's expressions of ultimate triumph, and parted from the young adventurer at ten o'clock that night. The prince dared not make a longer stay with Lovat, as the royal army was hourly expected. The tumult of a camp and the hopes of triumph were now exchanged for the silence and desolation of Loch Ness. Along these rugged shores the hunted Stuart urged his wearied horse, and after a ride of forty-five miles reached the seat of a partizan at Invergarry, a short distance beyond Fort Augustus, at five o'clock the next morning. No crowd received them at the gates, no shouts greeted the exhausted Jacobites; all was desolate; the inhabitants had fled, and even the furniture was removed. One domestic remained to watch the course of events, but he was unable to offer the prince aught save the bare floor for a resting-place. The agony, hurry, and exertions of the last few hours had completely exhausted the wanderers. They required food, but the abandoned house afforded no provision for such a party. It was feared that the prince would be compelled to continue his harassing flight without any refreshment except a little water from a lake. A man, however, contrived to make the lake yield some food for the fugitives; two salmon were caught, and they made a dinner of fish before recommencing their flight. The prince now took his melancholy leave of all his adherents except three, who were named Sullivan, O'Neil, and Edward Burke. The last was servant to one of the Stuart * He was executed on Tower-bill, London, April, 1746, then aged eighty. |