In the silence and solitude of his prison, Lord Kilmarnock's recollection reverted to those whom human nature were shortly to be left to buffet with the storms of their hard fate. It reverted also to those who might, in any way, have suffered at his hands. The following touching epistle, addressed to his factor, Mr. Robert Paterson, written two days only before his execution, shows how tender was his affection for his unhappy wife: in how Christian a spirit towards others he died. His consideration for the poor shoemakers of Elgin is one of those beautiful traits of character which mark a conscientious mind. The original of this letter is still in existence, and is in the possession of the great-grandson of him to whom it was addressed.[383]

"Sir,

"I have commended to your care the inclosed packet, to be delivered to my wife in the manner your good sense shall dictate to you, will be least shocking to her. Let her be prepared for it as much by degrees, and with great tenderness, as the nature of the thing will admit of. The entire dependance I have all my life had the most just reason to have on your integrity and friendship to my wife and family, as well as to myself, make me desire that the inclosed papers may come to my wife through your hands, in confidence; but you will take all the pains to comfort her, and relieve the grief I know she will be in, that you and her friends can. She is what I leave dearest behind me in the world; and the greatest service you can do to your dead friend, is to contribute as much as possible to her happiness in mind, and in her affairs.

"You will peruse the State[384] before you deliver it to her, and you will observe that there is a fund of hers (I don't mention that of five hundred Scots a-year); as the interest of my mother-in-law's portion in the Countess of Errol's hands, with, I believe, a considerable arrear upon it; which, as I have ordered a copy of all these papers to that Countess, I did not care to put in. There is another thing of a good deal of moment, which I mention only to you, because if it could be taken away without noise it would be better; but if it is pushed it will be necessary to defend it. That is, a bond which you know Mr. Kerr, Director to the Chancery, has of me for a considerable sum of money, with many years interest on it, which was almost all play debt. I don't think I ever had fifty pounds, or the half of it, of Mr. Kerr's money, and I am sure I never had a hundred; which however I have put it to, in the inclosed declaration, that my mind may be entirely at ease. My intention with respect to that sum was to wait till I had some money, and then buy it off, by a composition of three hundred pounds, and if that was not accepted of, to defend it; in which I neither saw, nor now see anything unjust; and now I leave it on my successors to do what they find most prudent in it. Beside my personal debt mentioned in general and particular in the State,[385] there is one for which I am liable in justice, if it is not paid, owing to poor people, who gave their work for it by my orders; it was at Elgin in Murray; the regiment I commanded wanted shoes. I commissioned something about seventy pair of shoes and brogues, which might come to about three shillings, or three and sixpence each, one with another. The magistrates divided them among the shoemakers of the town and country, and each shoemaker furnished his proportion. I drew on the town for the price out of the composition laid on them, but I was told afterwards at Inverness, that it was believed the composition was otherwise applied, and the poor shoemakers not paid. As these poor people wrought by my orders, it will be a great ease to my heart to think they are not to lose by me, as too many have done in the course of that year; but had I lived, I might have made some enquiry after it; but now it is impossible, as their hardships in loss of horses, and such things which happened through my soldiers, are so interwoven with what was done by other people, that it would be very hard, if not impossible, to separate them. If you will write to Mr. Jones of Dalkinty, at Elgin, (with whom I was quartered when I lay there,) he will send you an account of the shoes, and if they were paid to the shoemakers or no; and if they are not, I beg you'll get my wife, or my successors, to pay them when they can.

"Receive a letter to me from Mrs. Boyd, my cousin Malcomb's widow; I shall desire her to write to you for an answer.

"Accept of my sincere thanks for your friendship and good services to me. Continue them to my wife and children.

"My best wishes are to you and yours, and for the happiness and prosperity of the good town of Kilmarnock, and I am, sir, your humble servant,

"KILMARNOCK."

Tower of London, August 16th, 1746.

On the Saturday previous to the execution of Lord Kilmarnock, General Williamson gave his prisoners a minute account of all the circumstances of solemnity, and outward terror, which would accompany it. Lord Kilmarnock heard it much with the same expression of concern as a man of a compassionate disposition would read it, in relation to others. After suggesting a trifling alteration in the arrangements after the execution, he expressed his regret that the headsman should be, as General Williamson informed him, a "good sort of man;" remarking, that one of a rougher nature and harder heart, would be more likely to do his work quickly. He then requested that four persons might be appointed to receive the head when it was severed from the body, in a red cloth; that it might not, as he had heard was the case at other executions, "roll about the scaffold and be mangled and disfigured." "For I would not," he added, "though it may be but a trifling matter, that my remains should appear with any needless indecency after the just sentence of the law is satisfied." He spoke calmly and easily on all these particulars, nor did he even shrink when told that his head would be held up and exhibited to the multitude as that of a traitor. "He knew," he said, "that it was usual, and it did not affect him." During these singular conversations, his spiritual attendant and the General, could hardly have been more precise in their descriptions had they been portraying the festive ceremonials of a coming bridal, than they were in the fearful minutiae of the approaching execution. It was thought by them that such recitals would accustom the mind of the prisoner to the apparatus and formalities that would attend his death, and that these would lose their influence over his mind. "He allowed with me," observes Mr. Foster, "that such circumstances were not so melancholy as dying after a lingering disorder, in a darkened room, with weeping friends around one, and whilst the shattered frame sank under slow exhaustion." But experience and human feelings contradict this observation of the resigned and unhappy sufferer; we look to death, under such an aspect, as the approach of rest; but human nature shrinks from the violent struggle, the momentary but fierce convulsion, plunging us, as it were, into the abyss of the grave.

At this moment of his existence, when it was certain ruin at Court and in the army, to befriend the Jacobite prisoner, a friend, the friend of his youth, came nobly forward to attend Lord Kilmarnock in his dying moments. This was John Walkinshaw Craufurd, of Craufurdland in the county of Ayr, between whose family and that of the House of Boyd, a long and intimate friendship of several centuries had existed; "so much so," observes a member of the present family of Craufurd,[386] "that a subterranean passage is said to exist between our old castles, of which we fancy proofs; but these are fire-side legends."

"The family of Craufurd," observes Mr. Burke, "is one of antiquity and eminence in a part of the empire where ancestry and exploit have ever been held in enthusiastic admiration." By marriage, in the thirteenth century, it is allied anciently with the existing house of Loudon; and its connection and friendship with the House of Boyd was cemented by the death of one of its heads, Robert Craufurd, in 1487, in consequence of a wound received at the Wyllielee, from attending James Boyd, Earl of Arran, in a duel with the Earl of Eglintoun. In the days of Charles the First and Second, the Craufurds had been Covenanters, as appears in the history of that time: and in the year 1745, they were stanch Whigs; and Colonel Walkinshaw Craufurd had, when called upon to pay a mournful proof of respect to Lord Kilmarnock, attained the rank of Colonel in the British army. Besides the ancient friendship of the family, there had been several intermarriages; and the father of Colonel Craufurd had espoused, after the death of Miss Walkinshaw, Elenora, the widow of the Honorable Thomas Boyd, the brother of Lord Kilmarnock.

Colonel Walkinshaw Craufurd was a fine specimen of the true Scottish gentleman, and of the British officer. He was a very handsome, stately man, of high-bred manners, and portly figure, whom his tenantry both feared and honoured. He lived almost continually in the highest circles in London, except when in service, and also at the Court, visiting his Castle in Ayrshire only in the hunting season, for he kept a pack of hounds. To such a man the sacrifice of public opinion, then all against the Jacobites,—the sure loss of Court favour,—the risk of losing all military promotion, were no small considerations; yet he cast them all to the winds, and came nobly forward to pay the last respect to his kinsman and friend.

Already had he distinguished himself at the battle of Dettingen and Fontenoy; and he might reasonably expect the highest military honours: yet he incurred the risk of attending Lord Kilmarnock on the scaffold, and performing that office for him which that nobleman required. I almost blush to write the sequel; for this act, Colonel Craufurd was, immediately after the last scene was over, put down to the very bottom of the army list.[387] Such was the petty and vindictive policy of the British Government, influenced, it may be presumed, by the same dark mind that visited upon the faithful Highlanders the horrors of military law, in punishment of their fidelity and heroism. "The King," observes Horace Walpole, referring to these and other acts, "is much inclined to mercy; but the Duke of Cumberland, who has not so much of Caesar after a victory, as in gaining it, is for the utmost severity."[388]

Whilst the mind of Lord Kilmarnock was thus gradually prepared for death, Lord Balmerino passed cheerfully the hours which were so soon to terminate in his doom. Fondly attached to his young wife, Balmerino obtained the boon of her society in his prison. So much were the people attracted by the hardihood and humour of this brave old man, that it was found necessary by the authorities to stop up the windows of his prison-chamber in the Tower, in order to prevent his talking to the populace out of the window. One only was left unclosed, with characteristic cruelty: it commanded a view of the scaffolding erected for his execution.[389] One day the Lieutenant of the Tower brought in the warrant for his death: Lady Balmerino fainted. "Lieutenant," said Lord Balmerino, "with your d——d warrant you have spoiled my Lady's dinner."

Lord Balmerino is said to have written to the Duke of Cumberland a "very sensible letter," requesting his intercession with the King; but this seems to have been unavailing, from the well-known exclamation of George the Second, when solicited for the other prisoners, "Will no one speak a word to me for poor Balmerino?"

The day appointed for the execution was the eighteenth of August, at eight in the morning. Mr. Foster visited Lord Kilmarnock, and found him in a calm and happy temper, without any disturbance of that serenity which had of late blessed his days of imprisonment. He affected not to brave death, but viewed it in the awful aspect in which even the best of men, and the most hopeful Christians, must consider that solemn change. He expressed his belief, that a man who had led a dissolute life, and who yet believed the consequences of death, to affect indifference at that hour, showed himself either to be very impious, or very stupid. One apprehension still clung to his mind, proving how sensitive had been that conscience which strove in vain to satisfy itself. He told Mr. Foster "he could not be sure that his repentance was sincere, because it had never been tried by the temptation of returning to society."

Lord Kilmarnock continued in a composed state of mind during the whole morning. After a short prayer, offered up by Mr. Foster, at his desire, he was informed that the sheriffs waited for the prisoners. He heard this announcement calmly; and said to General Williamson, with his wonted grace, "General, I am ready to follow you." He then quitted his prison, and descended the stairs. As he was going down, he met Lord Balmerino; and the friends embraced. "My Lord," said the noble Balmerino, "I am heartily sorry to have your company in this expedition."[390]

The prisoners then proceeded to the outward gate of the Tower, where the Sheriffs, who had walked there in procession, received them: this was about ten o'clock in the morning of the eighteenth of August. The bodies of the two noblemen having been delivered with the usual formalities to the Sheriffs, they proceeded to the late Transport Office, a building near the scaffold. Two Presbyterian ministers, Mr. Foster and Mr. Home, accompanied Lord Kilmarnock, whilst the Chaplain of the Tower and another clergyman, attended Lord Balmerino. Three rooms, hung with black, were prepared; one for each of the condemned noblemen; another, fronting the scaffold, for spectators. Here, those who were so soon to suffer, had a short conference with each other, chiefly relating to the order, said to have been issued at Culloden, to give no quarter. This was a subject, not only of importance to Lord Kilmarnock's memory, but to the character of the Jacobite party generally.

"Did you, my Lord," said the generous Balmerino, still anxious, even at the last hour, to justify his friends, "see or know of any order, signed by the Prince, to give no quarter at the battle of Culloden?"

"No, my Lord," replied Kilmarnock.

"Nor I neither," rejoined Balmerino; "and therefore it seems to be an invention to justify their own murderous scheme."

To this Lord Kilmarnock answered, "No, my Lord, I do not think it can be an invention, because, while I was a prisoner at Inverness, I was told by several officers that there was such an order, signed 'George Murray,' and that it was in the Duke of Cumberland's custody." To this statement, (which was wholly erroneous) Lord Balmerino exclaimed, "Lord George Murray! Why then, they should not charge it on the Prince." After this explanation, he bade Kilmarnock a last farewell: as he embraced him, he said, in the same noble spirit, that he had ever shown, "My dear Lord Kilmarnock, I am only sorry I cannot pay all this reckoning alone: once more, farewell for ever."

Lord Kilmarnock was then left with the sheriffs, and his spiritual advisers. In their presence, he solemnly declared himself to be a Protestant, and said that he was thoroughly satisfied of the legality of the King's claim to the throne. He had been educated in these principles, and he now thoroughly repented having ever engaged in the Rebellion. He afterwards stated to his friends that he had within this week taken the sacrament twice in evidence of the truth of his repentance.

The hour of noon was now fast approaching, when the last act of relentless justice was to be performed. Mr. Foster, after permitting the Earl a few moments to compose himself, suggested that he should engage with him in prayer, and afterwards proceed to the scaffold. The minister then addressed himself to all who were present, urging them to join with him in this last solemn office, and in recommending the soul of an unhappy penitent to the mercy of God. Those who were engaged in this sad scene, sank on their knees, whilst, after a petition relating to the prisoner, a prayer was offered up "for King George, for our holy religion, for our inestimable British liberties." This prayer, for the royal family, Lord Kilmarnock had often protested he would, at the latest moment, offer up to the throne of God.

After this solemn duty had been performed, Lord Kilmarnock bade an affectionate farewell to the gentlemen who had accompanied him, and here Mr. Foster's office ceased, the Rev. Mr. Home, a young clergyman, and a personal friend of Lord Kilmarnock, succeeding him in attendance upon the prisoner. Many reports prevailed of Lord Kilmarnock's fear of death, and of the weakness of his resolution; and Balmerino, it is said, apprehended that he would not "behave well," an expression used, perhaps, in reference to his opinions, perhaps in anticipation of a failure of courage. As leaning upon the arm of his friend Mr. Home, Lord Kilmarnock saw, for the first time, that outward apparatus of death to which he had taken such pains to familiarise himself; "nature still recurred upon him;"—for an instant, the home of peace, to which he was hastening, was forgotten;—"the multitude, the block, the coffin, the executioner, the instrument of death," appalled one, whose character was amiable, rather than exalted. He turned to his attendant, and exclaimed, "Home, this is terrible!" Yet his countenance, even as he uttered these words, was unchanged, and in a few moments, he regained the composure of one whose hope was in the mercy of his Creator. What else could sustain him in the agonies of that moment? "His whole behaviour," writes Mr. Foster, "was so humble and resigned, that not only his friends, but every spectator, was deeply moved; the executioner burst into tears, and was obliged to use artificial spirits to support and strengthen him." As the man kneeled down, after the usual custom, to pray for forgiveness, Lord Kilmarnock desired him to have courage, and placing a purse of gold in his hand, told him that the dropping of a handkerchief should be the signal for the blow.

Mr. Foster having rejoined Lord Kilmarnock on the scaffold, a long conversation, in a low voice, took place between them; for Lord Kilmarnock made no speech. "I wish," said Mr. Foster, "I had a voice loud enough to tell the multitude with what sentiments your Lordship quits the world." Again, the unfortunate nobleman embraced his friends; and bade Mr. Foster, who quitted the scaffold a few minutes before his execution, a last farewell. During all this time, which was more than half an hour, he took no notice of the multitude below: except, observing that the green baize over the wall obstructed the view, he desired that it might be lifted up that the crowd might see the spectacle of his execution.

A delay now took place, attributed by some to Lord Kilmarnock's "unwillingness to depart:"[391] but owing to a few trivial circumstances which, as Mr. Foster remarks, "are unnecessary to be mentioned in order to vindicate the noble penitent from the imputation of fear in the critical moment." To the last, a scrupulous attention to decorum, and nicety in dress characterized Lord Kilmarnock. At his trial, he was described as having been a little too precise, and his hair "too exactly dressed for a person in his situation." On the scaffold the same care was manifested. He appeared in a mourning suit, and his hair, which was unpowdered, was dressed according to the fashion of the day, in a bag, which it took some time to undo, in order to replace the bag by a cap. Even then, the cap being large, and the hair long, his lordship was apprehensive that some of the hair might escape, and intercept the stroke of the axe. He therefore requested a gentleman near him, to tie the cap round his head, that he might bind up the hair more closely. As this office was performed, the person to whom he had applied, wished his lordship a continuance of his resolution until he should meet with eternal happiness. "I thank you," returned Lord Kilmarnock, with his usual courtesy and sweetness; "I find myself perfectly easy and resigned."

There was also another impediment,—the tucking of his shirt under his waistcoat was next adjusted. Then Lord Kilmarnock, taking out a paper containing the heads of his last devotions, advanced to the utmost stage of the scaffold, and kneeled down at the block, on which, in praying, he placed his hands, until the executioner remonstrated, begging of him to let his hands fall down, lest they should be mangled, or should intercept the blow. He was also told that the neck of his waistcoat was in the way; he therefore arose, and with the help of Colonel Walkinshaw Craufurd, had it taken off. Near him were standing those who held the cloth ready to receive his head; among these Mr. Home's servant heard Lord Kilmarnock tell the executioner, that in two minutes he would give the signal. A few moments were spent in fervent devotion; then the sign was given, and the head was severed from the body by one stroke. It was not exposed to view according to custom: but was deposited in a coffin with the body, and delivered to his Lordship's friends. One peculiarity attended this execution. It is not required by law that the head of a person decapitated should be exposed; but is a custom adopted in order to satisfy the multitude that the execution has been accomplished. Since, by Lord Kilmarnock's dying request, this practice was omitted, the Sheriffs ordered that all the attendants on the scaffold should kneel down, so that the view of the execution might not be impeded[392] to those who were below.

The scaffold was immediately cleared, and put in order for another victim; and Mr. Ford, the Under-Sheriff, who had attended the first execution, went into the room in the Transport Office where Balmerino awaited his doom. "I suppose," inquired the undaunted Balmerino, "that my Lord Kilmarnock is no more." And having asked how he died, and being told the account, he said: "It is well done, and now, gentlemen, I will no longer detain you, for I desire not to protract my life." He spoke calmly, and even cheerfully; Lord Kilmarnock had shed tears as he bade his friends farewell, but Balmerino, whilst others wept, was even cheerful, and hastened to the scaffold. His deportment, when in the room where he awaited the summons to death, was graceful and yet simple, without either any ostentation of bravery, or indications of indifference to his fate. He did not defy the terror, he rose above it. He conversed freely with his friends, and refreshed himself twice with wine and bread, desiring the company to drink to him, as he expressed it in his Scottish phrase, "ain degrae ta haiven;" but above all, he prayed often and fervently for support, and support was given.

True to the last to his professions, Lord Balmerino was dressed in what was called by a contemporary, "his Rebellious Regimentals," such as he had worn at Culloden; they were of blue cloth, turned up with red; underneath them was a flannel waistcoat and a shroud. He ascended the scaffold, "treading," as an observer expressed it, "with the air of a General," and surveying the spectators, bowed to them; he walked round it, and read the inscription on his coffin, "Arthurus Dominus de Balmerino, decollatus, 18^o die August. 1746, aetatis suae 58^o;" observed "that it was right," and with apparent pleasure looked at the block saying, it was his "pillow of rest." Lord Balmerino then pulling out his spectacles, read a paper to those who stood around him, and delivered it to the Sheriff to do with it as he thought proper. It was subsequently printed in a garbled form, much of it being deemed too treasonable for publication, and in that form is preserved in the State Trials.[393] It is now given as it was really spoken.

"I was bred in the anti-revolution principles, which I have ever persevered in, from a sincere persuasion that the restoration of the Royal Family, and the good of my native country, are inseparable. The action of my life which now stares me most in the face, is my having accepted a commission in the army from the late Princess Anne, who I knew had no more right to the crown than her predecessor, the Prince of Orange, whom I always considered as an infamous usurper.

"In the year 1715, as soon as the King landed in Scotland, I thought it my indispensable duty to join his standard, though his affairs were then in a desperate situation.

"I was in Switzerland in the year 1734, where I received a letter from my father acquainting me that he had procured me remission, and desiring me to return home. Not thinking myself at liberty to comply with my father's desire without the King's approbation, I wrote to Rome to know his Majesty's pleasure, and was directed by him to return home; and at the same time I received a letter of credit upon his banker at Paris, who furnished me with money to defray the expense of my journey, and put me in repair. I think myself bound, upon this occasion, to contradict a report which has been industriously spread, and which I never heard of till I was prisoner; that orders were given to the Prince's army to give no quarter at the battle of Culloden. With my eye upon the block, which will soon bring me unto the highest of all tribunals, I do declare that it is without any manner of foundation, both because it is impossible it could have escaped the knowledge of me, who was captain of the Prince's Life Guards, or of Lord Kilmarnock, who was colonel of his own regiment; but still more so, as it is entirely inconsistent with the mild and generous nature of that brave Prince, whose patience, fortitude, intrepidity, and humanity, I must declare upon this solemn occasion, are qualities in which he excels all men I ever knew, and which it ever was his desire to employ for the relief and preservation of his father's subjects. I believe rather, that this report was spread to palliate and excuse the murders they themselves committed in cold blood after the battle of Culloden.

"I think it my duty to return my sincere acknowledgments to Major White and Mr. Fowler, for their humane and complaisant behaviour to me during my confinement. I wish I could pay the same compliment to General Williamson, who used me with the greatest inhumanity and cruelty; but having taken the sacrament this day, I forgive him, as I do all my enemies.

"I die in the religion of the Church of England, which I look upon as the same with the Episcopal Church of Scotland, in which I was brought up."

After delivering this speech, Lord Balmerino laid his head upon the block, and said, "God reward my friends, and forgive my enemies: bless and restore the King; preserve the Prince, and the Duke of York,—and receive my soul."

The executioner then being called for, and kneeling to ask forgiveness, Lord Balmerino interrupted him. "Friend, you need not ask my forgiveness; the execution of your duty is commendable." He then gave the headsman three guineas, saying, "this is all I have; I can only add to it my coat and waistcoat," which, accordingly, he took off, laying them on the coffin for the executioner. After putting on a flannel jacket made for the occasion, and a plaid cap, he went to the block in order to show the executioner the signal. He then returned to his friends. "I am afraid," he said, addressing them, "that there are some here who may think my behaviour bold: remember, sir," he added, addressing a gentleman near him, "what I tell you; it arises from a just confidence in God, and a clear conscience." Memorable, and beautiful words, distinguishing between the presumption of indifference, and the security of a living faith. When he laid his head on the block to try it, he said, "if I had a thousand lives I would lay them all down in the same cause."

Lord Balmerino then showed the Executioner where to strike the blow; he examined the edge of the axe, and bade the man to strike with resolution; "for in that, friend," he said, as he replaced the axe in the hand of the man, "will consist your mercy." He asked how many strokes had been given to Lord Kilmarnock. Two clergymen coming up at that moment, he said, "no, gentlemen, I believe you have already done me all the service you can." He called loudly to the warder, and gave him his perriwig; and instantly laid down his head upon the block, but being told that he was on the wrong side, he vaulted round, and extending his arms uttered this short prayer: "O Lord, reward my friends, forgive my enemies:"—he uttered, it has been stated, another ejaculation for king James; but that petition was suppressed in the printed accounts of his death: then, pronouncing these words, "receive my soul," he gave the signal by throwing up his arm, as if he were giving the signal for battle. His intrepidity, and the suddenness of that last sign terrified the executioner, whose arm became almost powerless; the affrighted man struck the blow on the part directed, but though, it is hoped, it destroyed all sensation, the head was not severed, but fell back on the shoulders, exhibiting a ghastly sight. Two more strokes of the axe were requisite to complete the work. Then, the head having been received in a piece of scarlet cloth, the lifeless remains of the true, and noble hearted soldier were deposited in a coffin, and delivered to his friends.

A vast multitude viewed this spectacle, so execrable in its cruelty, so great in the deportment of the sufferers. Even on the masts of ships, in the calm river, were the spectators piled; all classes of society were interested in this memorable scene; and, for a few short weeks, the fashionable circles were diverted by the humours of Lady Townshend, and the witticisms of George Selwyn. During the imprisonment of Kilmarnock, it had been the fancy of the former to station herself under the window of his chamber in one of the dismal towers in which he was detained; to send messages to him, and to obtain his dog and snuff-box. But even this show of affected feeling failed to make compassion fashionable in the regions of St. James's. Calumny was busy at the grave of the beheaded Jacobites; and the accounts of those who attended them in their last hours were attacked by anonymous pamphleteers. It was said, among other things, that Balmerino uttered no prayer at the last moment; and his behaviour was contrasted with that of Kilmarnock. On this allegation, Mr. Ford, the Under-Sheriff, who was on the scaffold, observes, "the authors of these attacks being concealed are unworthy of other notice, since nothing is easier to an ingenious and unprejudiced mind, than to distinguish between the subject and the man: my Lord Kilmarnock was happily educated in right principles, which he deviated from, and repented; whereas, the great, though unhappy Balmerino, was unfortunate in his,—but, as he lived, he died."[394]

The characters of these two noblemen, who, in life, held a very dissimilar course, until they cooeperated in arms, are strongly contrasted. To Kilmarnock belonged the gentle qualities which enhance the pleasures of society, but often, too, increase its perils: the susceptible, affectionate nature, not fortified by self-controul; the compassionate disposition, acting rather from impulse than principle. Infirm in principle, his rash alliance with a party who were opposed to all that he had learned to respect in childhood; and whom he joined, from the stimulus of a misdirected ambition, cannot be justified. To this, it was generally believed, he was greatly incited by the persuasions of his mother-in-law, the Countess of Errol.

Whilst we bestow our cordial approbation on those who engaged in civil strife from a sense of duty, and from notions of allegiance, which had never been exterminated from their moral code, we condemn such as, attaching themselves to the Jacobite party, outraged their secret convictions, betrayed the trusts of Government, and violated the promise of their youth. Such a course must spring either from selfishness, or weakness, or from a melancholy union of both. In Lord Kilmarnock it was far more the result of weakness than of self-interest: his fortunes were desperate, and his mind was embittered towards the ruling government: his admiration was attracted by the gallantry and resolution of those who adhered to the Chevalier: his sense of what was due to his rank, and the consciousness of high descent, coupled with empty honours and real poverty, stimulated him to take that course which seemed the most likely to regain a position, without ever enjoying which a man may be happy, but which few can bear to lose. This was his original error; he joined the standard of Charles Edward,—but he was no Jacobite. He fought against his own convictions, the hereditary and ineffaceable prepossessions implanted in the heart by a parent.

From henceforth, until immured in the Tower, all in the career of Lord Kilmarnock was turbulence; and, it must be acknowledged, crime. For nothing can justify a resistance of sovereign power, save a belief in its illegality. "I engaged in the rebellion," was Lord Kilmarnock's confession, "in opposition to my own principles, and to those of my family; in contradiction to the whole tenor of my conduct." Such were his expressions at that hour when no earthly considerations had power to seduce him into falsehood.

By those historians who espouse the Jacobite cause, this avowal has been severely censured; and Lord Kilmarnock has been regarded as deserting the party which he had espoused. But, with his conviction, such a line of conduct as that which he pursued in prison, could alone be honest, and therefore alone consistent with his religious hopes, before he quitted life. Such censure has been well answered in Lord Kilmarnock's own words, "I am in little pain for the reflections which the inconsiderate or prejudiced part of my countrymen, (if there are any such whom my suffering the just sentence of the law has not mollified,) may cast upon me for this confession. The wiser or more ingenious will, I hope, approve my conduct, and allow with me, that next to doing right is to have the courage and integrity to avow that I have done wrong." These sentiments were not, be it observed, made public until after his death.

If, in early life, the career of Lord Kilmarnock were tainted by dissolute conduct, his deep contrition, his sincere confession of his errors, his endeavours to amend them, redeem those very errors in the eyes of human judgment, as they will probably plead for him, with One who is more merciful than man. In his prison, his patience in suspense, his forbearance to those who had urged on his death, his generous sentiments towards his companions in misfortune,—his care for others, his trust in the mercy of his Saviour, present as instructive a lesson as mortals can glean from the errors and the penitence of others.

Contrasted with the gentle, unfortunate Kilmarnock, the gallant bearing of Balmerino rises to heroism. One cannot, for the sake of his party, help regretting that he had not taken a more prominent part in the councils of the young Chevalier, or held a more distinguished position in the field. His integrity, his strong sense, and moral courage might have had an advantageous influence over the wavering, and confirmed the indecisive. In the field, his would have been the desperate valour which suits a desperate cause; but his resources were few, and his influence proportionately small.

The soldier of fortune, driven at an early age from home, sent from country to country, serving, with little hope of advancement, under various generals, Balmerino had learned to view life almost as a matter of indifference, compared with the honest satisfaction of preserving consistency. His existence had been one of trial, and of banishment from all domestic pleasures, and in the perils of his youthful days, he had learned to view it as so precarious, that his final doom came not to him as a surprise, but seemed merely a natural conclusion of a career of danger and adventure. His heroism may excite less admiration even than the resignation of those who had more to lose; but his intrepidity, his courageous sincerity, his contempt of all display, his carelessness of himself, and the tender concern which he evinced for others, are qualities which we should not be English not to appreciate and venerate. His were the finest attributes of the soldier and the Jacobite: the firm, unflinching adherence; the enthusiastic loyalty; the utter repugnance to all compromising; and the lofty disregard of opinion, which extorted, even from those who endeavoured to ridicule, a reluctant respect.

For the relentless pretext of what was called justice, which sent this brave man to his doom, there is no possibility of accounting, except in the deep party hatred of the Government. Lord Kilmarnock is believed to have owed his death to the false report industriously spread of his having treated the English prisoners with cruelty; but no such plea could injure Balmerino. One dark influence, at that time all powerful at court, all powerful among the people, denied them mercy;—and the crowds which witnessed the death of Kilmarnock and of Balmerino, hastened to do homage to the Duke of Cumberland. Nothing can, in fact, more plainly show the effect of frequent executions upon the character of a people than the details of the year 1746. With the inhabitants of London, like the French at the time of the Revolution, the value of life was lowered; the indifference to scenes of horror formed a shocking feature in their conduct. In the great world, jests, and witticisms delighted the Satellites of power. It was the barbarous fashion to visit Temple Bar for the purpose of viewing the heads exhibited there; spying glasses being let out for the ghastly spectacle. And the coarse, unfeeling invectives of the press prove the general state of the public mind, in those days, more effectually than any other fact could do:—in the present times, the cruelty which pursues its victim to the grave would not be tolerated.

In his latest hours, the chief concern of Lord Kilmarnock seems to have been for his eldest son, to whom he addressed the following beautiful letter.

EXTRACT OF THE LATE EARL OF KILMARNOCK'S LETTER TO HIS SON LORD BOYD.

"Dated, Tower, 17th of August, 1746.

"Dear Boyd,

"I must take this way to bid you farewell, and I pray God may ever bless you and guide you in this world, and bring you to a happy immortality in the world to come. I must, likewise, give you my last advice. Seek God in your youth, and when you are old He will not depart from you. Be at pains to acquire good habits now, that they may grow up, and become strong in you. Love mankind, and do justice to all men. Do good to as many as you can, and neither shut your ears nor your purse to those in distress, whom it is in your power to relieve. Believe me, you will find more joy in one beneficent action; and in your cool moments you will be more happy with the reflection of having made any person so, who without your assistance would have been miserable, than in the enjoyment of all the pleasures of sense (which pall in the using), and of all the pomps and gaudy show of the world. Live within your circumstances, by which means you will have it in your power to do good to others. Above all things, continue in your loyalty to his present Majesty, and the succession to the crown as by law established. Look on that as the basis of the civil and religious liberty and property of every individual in the nation. Prefer the public interests to your own, wherever they interfere. Love your family and your children, when you have any; but never let your regard to them drive you on the rock I split upon; when, on that account, I departed from my principles, and brought the guilt of rebellion, and civil and particular desolation on my head, for which I am now under the sentence justly due to my Prince. Use all your interest to get your brother pardoned and brought home as soon as possible, that his circumstances, and bad influence of those he is among, may not induce him to accept of foreign service, and lose him both to his country and his family. If money can be found to support him, I wish you would advise him to go to Geneva, where his principles of religion and liberty will be confirmed, and where he may stay till you see if a pardon can be procured him. As soon as Commodore Burnet comes home, inquire for your brother Billie, and take care of him on my account. I must again recommend your unhappy mother to you. Comfort her, and take all the care you can of your brothers: and may God of His infinite mercy, preserve, guide, and comfort you and them through all the vicissitudes of this life, and after it bring you to the habitations of the just, and make you happy in the enjoyment of Himself to all eternity!"

PAPER DELIVERED BY THE LATE EARL OF KILMARNOCK TO MR. FOSTER.

"Sunday, 17th of August, 1746.

"As it would be a vain attempt in me to speak distinctly to that great concourse of people, who will probably be present at my execution, I chose to leave this behind me, as my last solemn declaration, appealing for my integrity to God, who knows my heart.

"I bless God I have little fear of temporal death, though attended with many outward circumstances of terror; the greatest sting I feel in death is that I have deserved it.

"Lord Balmerino, my fellow-sufferer, to do justice, dies in a professed adherence to the mistaken principles he had imbibed from his cradle. But I engaged in the Rebellion in opposition to my own principles, and to those of my family; in contradiction to the whole tenour of my conduct, till within these few months that I was wickedly induced to renounce my allegiance, which ever before I had preserved and held inviolable. I am in little pain for the reflection which the inconsiderate or prejudiced part of my countrymen (if there are any such, whom my suffering the just sentence of the law has not mollified,) may cast upon me for this confession.

"The wiser, or more ingenious, will, I hope, approve my conduct, and allow with me that, next to doing right, is to have the courage and integrity to own that I have done wrong.

"Groundless accusations of cruelty have been raised and propagated concerning me; and charges spread among the people of my having solicited for, nay, even actually signed orders of general savage destruction, seldom issued among the most barbarous nations, and which my soul abhors. And that the general temper of my mind was ever averse from, and shocked at gross instances of inhumanity, I appeal to all my friends and acquaintance who have known me most intimately, and even to those prisoners of the King's troops to whom I had access, and whom I ever had it in my power to relieve; I appeal, in particular, for my justification as to this justly detested and horrid crime of cruelty, to Captain Master, of Ross, Captain-Lieutenant Luon, and Lieutenant George Cuming of Alter.

"These gentlemen will, I am persuaded, as far as relates to themselves, and as far as has fallen within their knowledge as credible information, do me justice; and then, surely my countrymen will not load a person, already too guilty and unfortunate, with undeserved infamy, which may not only fix itself on his own character, but reflect dishonour on his family.

"I have no more to say, but that I am persuaded, if reasons of state, and the demands of public justice had permitted his Majesty to follow the dictates of his own royal heart, my sentence might have been mitigated. Had it pleased God to prolong my life, the remainder of it should have been faithfully employed in the service of my justly offended sovereign, and in constant endeavours to wipe away the very remembrance of my crime.

"I now, with my dying breath, beseech Almighty God to bless my rightful sovereign, King George, and preserve him from the attacks of public and private enemies.

"May his Majesty, and his illustrious descendants, be so guided by the Divine Providence as ever to govern with that wisdom, and that care for the public good, as will preserve to them the love of their subjects, and secure their right to reign over a free and happy people to the latest posterity."

That Lord Boyd reciprocated the affection of his father appears from the following letter, which he addressed, a few days after the execution of Lord Kilmarnock, to Colonel Walkinshaw Craufurd, who was then at Scarborough.

"My Dear John,

"I had yours last post, and I don't know in what words to express how much I am obliged to you for doing the last duties to my unfortunate father; you can be a judge what a loss I have suffered; you knew him perfectly well, that he was the best of friends, the most affectionate husband, and the tenderest parent. Poor Lady Kilmarnock bears her loss much better than I could have imagined; but it was entirely owing to her being prepared several days before she got the melancholy accounts of it. I shall be here for some time, as I have a good deal of business to do in this country; so I shall be extremely glad to see you as soon as possible. I am, my dear John, your most sincere friend and obedient humble servant,

BOYD."

"Kilmarnock (House) August 27th, 1746."

Yet the young nobleman did not, it appears, entirely satisfy the expectations of those who were interested in his fate, and attached to his father's memory, as the following extract from a letter written by Mr. George Rosse, to Colonel Craufurd, shows.[395]

"Dear Sir,

"I am favoured with yours of the thirteenth from Scarborough, and had the honour of one letter from Lord Boyd since his father's execution, and sorry to tell you, it was not wrote in such terms as I could show or make any use of. If you had seen him, I dare say it would have been otherwise. However, I took the liberty of writing with plainness to him, in hopes of drawing from him, what may be shown to his honour and to his own immediate advantage.

* * * * *

"I put him in mind of writing to his cousin, Duke of Hamilton, and Mr. Home; an omission, which, with submission, is unpardonable, as he was apprised of their goodness to his father; and I gave him some hints with relation to himself, by authority of the ministry, which, if he continue in the army, may be improved upon. Those things I think proper to mention to you, as I know your friendship for Boyd, that you may take an opportunity of mentioning them to him, when you are with him, which I hope will be soon. He is appointed deputy Captain-Lieutenant; but that I look upon as a step to higher preferment. I should like to hear from you; direct to (Crawfurdland) Kilmarnock, and I am, dear sir, your most obedient, humble servant.

"GEO. ROSSE."

Leicesterfield, September 8th, 1746.

Notwithstanding these seeming acts of negligence, which may possibly have been explained, Lord Boyd became, in every way, worthy of being the representative of an ancient race. He was an improved resemblance of his amiable, unhappy father. Possessing his father's personal attributes, he added, to the courtesy and kindliness of his father's character, strength of principle, a perfect consistency of conduct, and sincere religious connections, both in the early and latter period of his life. His deportment is said to have combined both the sublime and the graceful; his form, six feet four inches in height, to have been the most elegant; his manners the most polished and popular of his time. In his domestic relations he was exemplary, systematic, yet with the due liberality of a nobleman, in his affairs; sagacious and conscientious as a magistrate; generous to his friends. "He puts me in mind," said one who knew him, "of an ancient hero; and I remember Dr. Johnson was positive that he resembled Homer's character of Jaspedon."[396] "His agreeable look and address," observes that adorer of rank, Boswell, "prevented that restraint, which the idea of his being Lord High Constable of Scotland might otherwise have occasioned."[397]

At the time of his father's execution, Lord Boyd was only twenty years of age. He claimed and obtained the maternal estate, and obtained it in 1751. In 1758 he succeeded Mary, Countess of Errol in her own right, his mother's aunt, as Earl of Errol, and left the army in which he had continued to serve. He retired to Slains Castle, where he passed his days in the exercise of those virtues which become a man who is conscious, by rank and fortune, of a deep responsibility, and who regards those rather as trusts, than possessions. He died at Calendar-house, in 1778, universally lamented, and honoured.

The Countess of Kilmarnock survived her husband only one year; and died at Kilmarnock in 1747. Two sons were, however, left, in addition to Lord Boyd, to encounter, for some years, considerable difficulties. Of these, the second, Charles, who was in the insurrection of 1745, escaped to the Isle of Arran, where he lay concealed, in that, the ancient territory of the Boyds, for a year. He amused himself, having found an old chest of medical books, with the study of medicine and surgery, which he afterwards practised with some degree of skill among the poor. He then escaped to France, and married there a French lady; but eventually he found a home at Slains Castle, where he was residing when Dr. Johnson and Boswell visited Scotland. He was a man of considerable accomplishment; but, as Boswell observed, "with a pompousness or formal plenitude in his conversation," or as Dr. Johnson expressively remarked, "with too much elaboration in his talk." "It gave me pleasure," adds Boswell, "to see him, a steady branch of the family, setting forth all its advantages with much zeal."

William Boyd, the fourth son of Lord Kilmarnock, was in the Royal Navy, and on board Commodore Burnet's ship at the time of his father's execution. He was eventually promoted to a company of the 14th foot, in 1761.

Lord Balmerino left no descendants to recall the remembrance of his honest, manly character. His wife, Margaret Chalmers, survived him nearly twenty years, and died at Restalrig, on the 24th of August, 1765, aged fifty-six.

The remains of these two unfortunate noblemen were deposited under the gallery, at the west end of the chapel in the Tower. Beside them repose those of Simon, Lord Lovat. "As they were associates in crime, so they were companions in sepulchre," observes a modern writer, "being buried in the same grave."[398] But the more discriminative judge of the human heart will spurn so rash, and undiscerning a remark; and marvel that, in the course of one contest, characters so differing in principle, so unlike in every attribute of the heart, and viewed, even by their enemies, with sentiments so totally opposite, should thus be mingled together in their last home.

FOOTNOTES:

[316] Wood's Peerage.

[317] Who, adds the same authority, carried azure, a fess cheque, argent and gules: and for their crest, a hand issuing out of a wreath, pointing with the thumb and two fingers: motto, confido; supporters, two squirrels collared or.

[318] Reay, 203.

[319] Reay, 203.

[320] Wood's Peerage. The defect of the title is the failure of issue male. The title of Livingstone was considered by the same authority as untouched.

[321] Ibid.

[322] Lockhart Papers, i. 138. Note. Calendar.

[323] Memoirs of Lord Kilmarnock. London, 1746, p. 19.

[324] Memoirs of the Earl of Kilmarnock, p. 20.

[325] MS. Letter presented to me by Mrs. Howison Craufurd, of Craufurdland Castle, Ayrshire.

[326] Memoirs of Lord Kilmarnock, p. 21.

[327] Horace Walpole's Letters, ii. p. 113.

[328] Foster's Account, p. 11.

[329] Grose, 214.

[330] Memoirs of Lord Kilmarnock, p. 23.

[331] Life of Colonel Gardiner, by Dr. Doddridge, passim.

[332] Doddridge. Life of Colonel Gardiner, p. 155.

[333] Henderson, p. 130.

[334] State Trials of George II.

[335] Maxwell, p. 60.

[336] Forbes's Account, p. 20.

[337] Maxwell, p. 50. This Nobleman was at the battle of Culloden.

[338] Henderson, p. 332.

[339] Henderson, p. 130.

[340] Note in Chambers, p. 89.

[341] History of the Rebellion, from the Scots' Magazine, p. 198.

[342] Chambers, p. 89. Henderson, p. 334.

[343] Observations on the Account of the Behaviour of Lords Kilmarnock and Balmerino, 1746.

[344] Ibid.

[345] Nesbitt, Heraldry, vol. i. p. 154.

[346] "Elphingstone, in the shire of Hadington, and in the parish of Tranent, a village at the distance of three miles S.S.W. from Tranent."—Edinburgh Gazetteer.

[347] Nesbitt, p. 154.

[348] Memoirs of Lord Balmerino. London, 1764.

[349] Wood's Peerage.

[350] Life of Lord Balmerino, p. 51. Buchan's Account of the Earls of Keith, p. 149.

[351] Scots' Magazine for 1746.

[352] Scots' Magazine for 1746.

[353] Georgian Era.

[354] Wood's Peerage.

[355] Maxwell, p. 59.

[356] Georgian Era.

[357] State Trials, vol. xviii.

[358] Edinburgh Gazetteer. Art. "South Leith."

[359] History of the Rebellion from the Scots' Magazine, p. 302.

[360] Horace Walpole's Letters to Sir Horace Mann, vol. ii. p. 160.

[361] Georgian Era.

[362] Ibid.

[363] State Trials, vol. xviii. p. 466.

[364] Observations on the Account, &c., p. 23.

[365] Horace Walpole, vol. ii. p. 163

[366] Ibid. vol. ii. p. 115.

[367] Horace Walpole.

[368] See Scots' Magazine for 1746.

[369] State Trials.

[370] State Trials.

[371] Note. The plea was couched in these words: "July 29th, 1746. It is conceived that the late Act of Parliament, empowering his Majesty to transport such as are taken in arms from one county to another, where they may be tried by the course of the common law, did not take place till after that time, that the facts implying treason, were actually committed by the accused prisoners, and if so, the Grand Jury of Surrey, or of any other county whatsoever, where these acts of treason are not alleged to have been committed, could not, agreeable to law, find bills against such prisoners; and it may, on that score, be prayed, That the indictment be quashed, or that an arrest of judgment be thereupon granted." What a bitter, though unavailing feeling of regret accompanies the reflection that this benevolent attempt to save the lives of these brave men, was fruitless.

[372] Letters to Sir H. Mann, vol. ii. p. 167.

[373] State Trials 18, p. 502.

[374] H. Walpole, p. 31. Letters to G. Montagu.

[375] Walpole's Letters to Montagu, p. 29. Folio.

[376] Letters to Sir H. Mann, vol. ii. p. 167.

[377] State Trials, by Hargreaves, pp. 18, 502.

[378] Memoirs of the Earl of Kilmarnock and Cromartie, and of Lord Balmerino, 1746.

[379] Life of Lord Cromartie, 1746.

[380] Buchan's Memoirs of the House of Keith, p. 143.

[381] Walpole's Letters to Sir H. Mann, vol. ii. p. 171.

[382] Foster's Account, p. 87.

[383] For a copy of this letter I am indebted to the kindness of Mrs. Craufurd of Craufurdland Castle, Kilmarnock. The original is in the possession of Martin Paterson, Esq. of Kilmarnock, and is endorsed "Copy of the last Instructions of Lord Kilmarnock to his factor, Mr. Robert Paterson."

[384] Statement.

[385] Statement.

[386] Mrs. Howison Craufurd, the lady of William Howison Craufurd, Esq., of Craufurdland Castle, Ayrshire. To this Lady I am indebted for much of the information (afforded by her admirable letters) which has been introduced into this Memoir of Lord Kilmarnock. To this lady I addressed an inquiry respecting an original portrait of Lord Kilmarnock. Her efforts to obtain any intelligence of one have been wholly unavailing; and we have been led to the conclusion that, in the fire at Dean Castle, all the portraits of Lord Kilmarnock must have been destroyed; his resemblance, his name, his honour, and his Castle thus becoming extinct at once. At Craufurdland Castle there is a fine portrait of Lord Kilmarnock's brother, his widow and daughter, painted in oils, after a singular fashion, black and white; giving it a ghastly hue. This perhaps accounts for the local tradition near Kilmarnock, "that on hearing of his brother's death, Mr. Boyd's colour fled, and never returned; nor was he ever seen to smile again." A tradition not difficult of belief.

The present Mr. Craufurd, of Craufurdland Castle, represents also the family of Howison of Brae-head. In Mrs. Howison Craufurd's family an amusing circumstance relative to Lord Lovat occurred. He was one evening in a ball-room, and was paying court to the great-grandmother of that lady. As he was playfully examining, and holding in his hand her diamond solitaire, a voice whispered in his ear, "that Government officers were in pursuit of him; and that he must decamp." Decamp he did, taking with him, perhaps by accident, the costly jewel. The young lady was in the greatest trepidation, and her family were resolved to recover the ornament. Many years after, on his return from France, Lovat, whose character, in no respect, rose above suspicion, was taxed with the robbery, and refunded a sum which gave twenty pounds to each of a host of granddaughters, then in their girlhood.

[387] In a letter from Mrs. Craufurd of Craufurdland to the author, this fact is stated. It is mentioned as traditionary elsewhere, but is attested by the family.

[388] H. Walpole, vol. ii. p. 167.

[389] H. Walpole's Letters to Mr. Montagu.

[390] Foster's Account, p. 31.

[391] Walpole.

[392] Ford's Account in State Trials, p. 18, 522.

[393] For the original of Lord Balmerino's real speech, which is highly characteristic of its author, I am indebted to Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq.

"I was brought up in true, loyal, and anti-revolution principles and I hope the world is convinced that they stuck to me. I must acknowledge I did a very inconsiderate thing, for which I am heartily sorry, in accepting a company of Foot from the Princess Anne, who I know had no more right to the Crown than her predecessor the Prince of Orange.... To make amends for what I had done I joined the ... (Pretender) when he was in Scotland in 1715, and when all was over I made my escape, and lived abroad till the year 1734.

"In the beginning of that year I got a letter from my father which very much surprised me; it was to let me know he had a promise of a remission for me. I did not know what to do; I was then, (I think,) in the canton of Berne, and had nobody to advise with: but next morning I wrote a letter to the ... (Pretender) who was then at Rome, to acquaint the ... (Pretender) that this was come without my asking or knowledge, and that I would not accept of it without his consent. I had in answer to mine, a letter written with ... (The Pretender's) own hand, allowing me to go home; and he told me his banker would give me money for my travelling charges when I came to Paris, which accordingly I got. When the ... (the Pretender's son) came to Edinburgh I joined him, though I might easily have excused myself from taking arms on account of my age; but I never could have had peace of conscience if I had stayed at home.... I am at a loss when I come to speak of the ... (Pretender's son,) I am not a fit hand to draw his character, I shall leave that to others. (Here he gives a fulsome character of the Pretender's son.)

"Pardon me if I say, wherever I had the command, I never suffered any disorders to be committed, as will appear by the Duke of Buccleugh's servants at East Park; by the Earl of Findlater's minister, Mr. Lato, and my Lord's servant, A. Cullen; by Mr. Rose, minister at Nairn, (who was pleased to favour me with a visit when I was prisoner at Inverness;) by Mr. Stewart, principal servant to the Lord President at the House of Culloden; and by several other people. All this gives me great pleasure, now that I am looking upon the block on which I am ready to lay down my head; and though it would not have been my own natural inclination to protect everybody, it would have been my interest to have done it for ... (the Pretender's son) abhorred all those who were capable of doing injustice to any.... I have heard since I came to this place, that there has been a most wicked report spread, and mentioned in several of the newspapers that ... (the Pretender's son) before the battle of Culloden, had given out orders that no quarter should be given to the enemy. This is such an unchristian thing, and so unlike ... (the Pretender's son,) that nobody (the Jacobites) that knows him will believe it. It is very strange if there had been any such orders, that neither the Earl of Kilmarnock, who was Colonel of the regiment of the Foot Guards, nor I, who was Colonel of the second troop of Life Guards, should ever have heard anything of it; especially since we were both at the head-quarters the morning before the battle; I am convinced that it is a malicious report industriously spread to....

"Ever since my confinement in the Tower, when Major White or Mr. Fowler did me the honour of a visit, their behaviour was always so kind and obliging to me that I cannot find words to express it; but I am sorry I cannot say the same thing of a General Williamson: he has treated me barbarously, but not quite so ill as he did the Bishop of Rochester; and had it not been for a worthy clergyman's advice, I should have prayed for him in the words of David, Psalm 109, from the 6th to the 15th verse. I forgive him and all my enemies. I hope you will have the charity to believe I die in peace with all men; for yesterday, I received the Holy Eucharist from the hands of a clergyman of the Church of England, in whose communion I die as in union with the Episcopal Church of Scotland.

"I shall conclude with a short prayer."—(Here a prayer is mentioned much the same as in Wm. Ford's account.)

[394] The account which I have given of Lord Kilmarnock's behaviour and fate, and also of Lord Balmerino's, is taken from the following works, to which I have not thought it necessary separately to refer. Foster's Account of the Behaviour of Lord Kilmarnock; and the Vindication of Foster's Account from the misrepresentations of some Dissenting Teachers: London, 1746. Account by T. Ford, Under-Sheriff at the Execution, in the State Trials, vol. xviii. p. 325. Horace Walpole's Letters to Geo. Montagu, and to Sir H. Mann. Scots' Magazine for 1746; and Buchan's Life of Marshal Keith; also a Collection of Tracts in the British Museum, relating to the Rebellion, 1746, and chiefly published during that year.

[395] For both these letters, hitherto unpublished, I am indebted for the courtesy of Mrs. Craufurd of Craufurdland Castle.

[396] Forbes's Life of Beattie, vol. ii. p. 351.

[397] Journey to the Hebrides, p. 108

[398] Bayley's History of the Tower, p. 122.



CHARLES RADCLIFFE.

The fate of Charles Radcliffe has been regarded as one of the most severe, and his death as one of the most unjustifiable acts inflicted on those who suffered for their adherence to the Stuart cause.

This unfortunate man was the third son of Francis Earl of Derwentwater, by the Lady Mary Tudor, the daughter of Charles the Second, and was born in 1693. He was the younger brother of James Earl of Derwentwater, who suffered in 1716, for his adherence to the Stuart cause. There was also another elder brother, Francis, who died unmarried, not taking any apparent interest in the politics of the day.

The family of Radcliffe were not regarded by the descendants of their common ancestor, Charles the Second, in the light of kindred whom the rules of decorum, and the usages of society might induce them to disclaim, or at all events, to acknowledge with shame or reluctance; the vitiated notions of the day attached a very different value to the parentage of royalty, even when associated with dishonour. The marriage of Sir Francis Radcliffe to the daughter of Mary Davis was that event which procured his elevation to the peerage; and this alliance, was considered as elevating the dignity of an ancient house.[399] The closest ties of friendship united the Stuarts and the Radcliffes, even from their earliest infancy. Educated, as well as his elder brother, James, chiefly at St. Germains, and with the Chevalier James Stuart, and brought up in the Roman Catholic faith, Charles Radcliffe, owing to the natural ardour of his disposition, imbibed much more readily than his brother the strong party views which characterized the Jacobites as a body.

In James, Earl of Derwentwater, the convictions of his faith, grounded as they are upon the belief of those great truths common to all Christians, worked healthfully; expanding the benevolence of his heart, teaching him mercy, moderation, and forbearance. On Charles, impetuous, zealous, stronger in intellect than his brother, but devoid of prudence, the same mode of culture, the same precepts acted differently. He became, even in early life, violent in his opinions, until the horror of what he deemed error, amounted to bigotry. Henceforth his destiny was swayed by those fierce resentments towards the opposite party by which not only his brother, but even the Chevalier himself, seem to have been so rarely actuated; a remarkable degree of moderation and candour raising the character of James Stuart, whilst Lord Derwentwater was the gentlest of opponents, the most honourable of foes.

In early life Charles Radcliffe appears to have been chiefly dependent upon his brother's kindness and bounty; whilst his pursuits and inclinations, characterized in a letter by Lord Derwentwater as his "pleasures," were of an expensive description. But it was not long before other causes of concern besides want of money, or a love of dissipation began to disquiet those who were interested in the welfare of the Radcliffe family. About the year 1710, the young Earl of Derwentwater returned from the continent to his patrimonial property at Dilstone, in Northumberland, accompanied by his brother Francis, and by Charles who either frequently visited him, or wholly resided with him at his seat. During this period of the life of Charles Radcliffe, an insight into the general state of the family is afforded by several letters, addressed by the Earl of Derwentwater to Lady Swinburne of Capheaton, whom he styles his "cousin." The relationship between these families originated in the marriage of Mrs. Lawson, daughter of Sir William Fenwick of Meldon, after the death of her first husband, with Francis, first Earl of Derwentwater, and grandfather of James Radcliffe, and of his brothers. Mrs. Lawson's daughter, Isabel, married Sir John Swinburne of Capheaton who was rescued from a singular fate by one of the Radcliffe family. When a child, he was sent to a monastery in France, where a member of that family accidentally saw him, and observing that he resembled the Swinburnes in Northumberland, he inquired his name, and how he came there? To these questions, the monks answered that they knew not his name; a sum of money was sent annually from England to defray his expenses; but of all other particulars they were wholly ignorant. On investigating the matter, it was found, however, that the child had been taught that his name was Swinburne; and that circumstance, coupled with the mysterious disappearance of the heir of that family from Northumberland induced the superior of the convent to permit his return home, where he identified himself to be the son of John Swinburne and of Jane Blount, by the description which he gave of the marks of a cat, and of a punchbowl, which were still in the house.[400] He was afterwards advanced by Charles the Second to the dignity of a baronet.

To Mary, the daughter of Anthony Englefield, of Whiteknights, Berks, and wife of Sir William Swinburne, of Capheaton, the son of that man whose childhood has so romantic a story associated with it, the following letters are addressed. Of these, the first is written by the celebrated John Radcliffe, Physician to Queen Anne. Dr. Radcliffe was probably a distant relation of the family, although no distinctive trace of that connection appears: he was a native of Wakefield, near Yorkshire; but when these letters were written, he had attained the highest eminence in his profession that could be secured by one man; and was in the possession of wealth which he eventually employed in the foundation of the Radcliffe Library, at Oxford.[401] The "Mr. Radcliffe" to whom he refers, and to whose malady his skill was called upon to administer, was Colonel Thomas Radcliffe, the uncle of Lord Derwentwater: the patient was at the time suffering from mental delusion, in consequence of a fever.

THESE TO SIR WILLIAM SWINBURNE AT CAPHEATON.

Dec. 6, 1709.

"Sir,

"Yours I received, and am very glad to hear that yourself and my lady is in so good health. I hope in a short time Mr. Radcliffe will be so too. He is recovered; but he had such a severe fever that he continues weak still. My Lord Derwentwater and his brother" (Francis) "and Mr. Fenwick, are all come safe from Holland, and are very well, and we shall drink your health together this night. He intends to be with you very speedily in the country. I do not doubt that you will extremely like his conversation: for he has a great many extraordinary good qualities, and I do not doubt but he will be as well beloved as his uncle. My most humble service to your lady and the rest of the good family, and I wish you a merry Christmas; and that I might be so happy as to take a share of it with you, would be a great satisfaction to him who is your most obliged and most faithful, humble servant,

"JOHN RADCLIFFE."

The next letter is from Sir William Swinburne to his lady; in this he speaks of the pleasure with which Lord Derwentwater had returned to Dilstone, the seat of his ancestors, which he was, in so few short years, to forfeit.

TO MY LADY SWINBURNE, AT CAPHEATON.

Beaufort, 7th Feb. 1710.

"Dear Love!

"My Lord" (Derwentwater) "is very well pleased with Dilstone, and says it answers all that he has heard of it: but is resolved to build a new house, though Roger Fenwick told him he thought his lordship need not alter a stone of it. Upon Thursday my lord dines at Dilstone. Yours for ever,

"WILLIAM SWINBURNE.

"P.S. I understand my lord intends to be at Capheaton on Saturday, and then upon Tuesday at Witton, and so for Widdrington. My lord's leg is a little troublesome; but he intends to hunt the fox to-morrow, and it is a rule all to be abed at ten o'clock the night. Here is old Mr. Bacon and his son, Mr. Fenwick, of Bywell. My lord killed a squirl, and Sir Marmaduke a pheasant or two, and myself one, this morning—which is all, &c."

The following letter from Lord Derwentwater, to Lady Swinburne, shows that the illness which occasioned so much uneasiness was obstinate: it affords a curious sample of the medical treatment of Dr. Radcliffe, who kindly, and perhaps wisely, humoured his patient in the desire to go to Newcastle.

"I have been just now with my dear uncle, and Jack Thornton was with me. He received us very well: but is yet unease about those people that disturb him, and he says that he must go down to Newcastle by sea, or else he will never get quitte of them. This is an ode fancy; but I believe we shall comply with it, for the doctor dous not sime very averce to it, and was for sending Joseph back with him; but I have taken the horse into my stable, for I feared it mit hurt the horse to return so soon. In fin, I fansed Sir William would like the value of the horse better than to have him sent back. I have been offered eighteen pound. I would have Sir William let me know by the next post whether he will have the horse or the money. I shall have the honor to whrit to him very soon."

The two following epistles, one from Lady Derwentwater, the other from the Earl, speak of married happiness, alloyed, not only by the distempered fancies of an invalid uncle, but by the melancholy accounts of a brother's behaviour. It does not, however, appear certain which of the brothers, whether Francis or Charles, was thus alluded to.

FOR THE HONOURABLE LADY SWINEBURNE, JUNIOR, AT CAPHEATON.

"Hadcross, Aug. 17.

"I have manny thanks to returne your ladyship for the favour of your letter and oblidging congratulations. My Lord Darwenwater's great merit and agreable temper makes me think I have all the prospect imadgenable of being intierly happy. I desier the favour your ladyship will present my humble sarvise to Sir William. My father and mother joinse with me in this, and dessiers there complements to your ladyship, I beg you will be assured that I am, very much madam, your ladyship's most humble servant.

"A. DARVENWATAR."

FOR MY LADY SWINBURNE, AT THE BLEW BALL, IN ST. JAMES'S PLACE, NEAR ST. JAMES'S, LONDON.

"Heatherope, Feb. 7.

"Madam,

"I fear'd the good news Miechal writ Gibson, might be false; because I have not heard anything of it from yourself, nor from my uncle, who, I flatter myself, would writ a line to give me so much satisfaction: but I hope all my doubts will vanish if your ladyship does me the favour to confirm what will be so great a content to us. If I could but be sure that my dear uncle avows all his fancys about the men he thought spoke to him, to be nothing but the unlucky effect of his favour,[402] and that he thinks to come over to manage his affairs, will be the most credeble and most kind way of proceeding, both as to himself and family, then I shall believe he was the same man he was befor, which, if you confirm, will be one of the most joyfull and the most unexpected good news that could befall your ladyship's humble, obedient servant, and affectionate kindsman,

"DARWENTWATER.

"I should have writ to your ladyship sooner, and really can have no good excuse: for I should have write to my dear cousen, though my head was full of fox-hunting: and though I had a mind to banish out of a new-married head some melancholic accounts of my brother's behaviour, which I suppose you have had intelligence of, or else of my dear wife's second miscarriage, which has been a great affliction to us, but I flatter myself with the hope of her having better luck another time. She presents her humble service, and so does my Lady Webb. I hope Sir William was well, and cosen Jacky, when you heard last. My brother Charles has been at Sir Marmeduke Constable's, and designs for London. Adieu!"

In May 1714, only one year before the fatal insurrection of 1715 broke out, the following letter, referring to different members of his family, was written by the Earl. What a pleasing picture of an affectionate nature does this correspondence afford.[403]

FOR MY LADY SWINBURNE, JUNIOR, AT CAPHEATON.

"Kathcrosse, May, 6, 1714.

"Now I write with pleasure to your ladyship, since I hope to be so happy as to enjoy your good companie in a few months, I mean immediately after York Races, for my two years will be out here the tenth of July. Indeed Sir John has behaved himself wonderfully well to us quite the holl time, really performing in everything more than I could have expected from a man of honnor, as indeed I had reason to believe him. My lady is not of so steady a temper; but however, we agree very well: and she is mighty fond of my wife, which I take very kindly, since as yet we are but one. Never any body could be so desirous to goe to the North as my wife is, especially just comming from the divertions of London, except your ladyship or myself, who longs to be established there, that we may at least be out of the way of such inhuman proceedings as we saw, upon all accounts, this year at London. My poor dear uncle's case may serve for one instance. After getting the better in all the courts, and, that lastly, the Lord Chancellor and eleven Judges had given there decree in favor of Will. Constable, and my uncle, a factious party, most young rakes, have reversed the decree, and given it for Roper, by a divition of fifty-three against twenty-three torrys, who were resolute enough to appear in a good cause, being forsaken by their brethren, who were afraid to be caled favourers of Poperie. I long to hear what my uncle will say to this news. If he be well, it will nettle him in spite of resignation. Gibson writes word they are at Doway; but he does not know when my uncle will sett forwards. I do not know where to wish him: for I really don't know how he is. For in one letter Gibson writes, he tells me my uncle is as well as ever he was in his life; and at the end of the letter he tells me his honnor is afraid of being pursude. 'Tis certain my uncle writes in another stille than usuall: for, in letters of business he continually mentions God Almighty, the Blessed Virgin, and the Saints. All I say is, God send him over a comfort to his friends, which he must be if he is well. Brother Frank is recovered, but is the very same man. Brother Charles is mighty uneasie: he is no ritcher, though I doe what I can to help him in his pleasures.

"Pray my duty to my uncle and aunt, to whom I will write soon, and kind services to all other relations.

"If your ladyship will tell Tom Errington that I have executed the leases, and that I wonder cousin Tom Errington is not in for a quarter part of Redgroves, and that, supposing there were some such valuable reason as my cousin Tom's not being willing to accept of it, or having resigned it to one of those mentioned in the lease, which by the bye I should take very ill, then that lease of Redgrove's may stand good: but otherways I would have the lease altered, and my cousin Tom Errington to come in for a quarter part, as I promised him he should. In letting him know this, your ladyship will oblige your humble and obedient servant and kinsman,

"DERWENTWATER.

"My dear wife presents her humble service to your ladyship, and desires the same may be made acceptable to all with you. We expect Lord Wald and my lady to make my sister happy, who will do the same by them."

The felicity which Lord Derwentwater enjoyed was of brief duration. According to tradition among his descendants, he was urged on to those steps which ended in his death by the violent counsels of his brother Charles, whose impetuosity the unfortunate earl often regretted, expressing, in his private correspondence, how much his rash and intemperate spirit distressed and alarmed him. Of the progress, and the principal features of the insurrection of 1715, and of the part which Lord Derwentwater took in that event, an account has already been given.[404] "Happy," observes the biographer of Charles Radcliffe, "had it been for him, happy for his lady, and happy for his family, had the earl staid at home, and suffered himself to be withheld from that fatal expedition."[405]

Charles Radcliffe was at that time twenty-two years of age; he had no experience in military affairs, but was full of spirit and courage, ready to offer himself for every daring, and even hopeless enterprise, and seeming to set no value on his life where honour was to be won. Such a character soon became popular with the leaders of the movement in the north; and Lord Derwentwater gave the conduct of his tenantry into his brother's hands, Captain Shaftoe commanding under Mr. Radcliffe.

The behaviour of this young commander throughout the whole of the expedition was consistent with this character of intrepidity; but that which surprised many persons in a man who had never before engaged in war, was the judgment, as well as courage, which he displayed. And perhaps, had his counsels been followed, the result of that ill-starred rising, in which so many brave men perished, might have been less disastrous to the party whom he espoused. When the insurgents were at Hexham, and intelligence was brought that General Carpenter was approaching, Mr. Radcliffe proposed that the Jacobite troops should go out and fight the English before they had recovered from their long march; but his opinion was overruled. His was that description of mind which gleans much from observation; he studied the countenances of those around him, and formed his own conclusion of their characters. When any false alarm happened to be given that the king's troops were near, it was his practice, undaunted himself, to watch the countenances of his officers, when they were ordered to head their corps, and march against the enemy. Some of them, he observed, turned pale, and looked half-dead with fear; the eyes of others flashed with fire and fury: on these, he was certain that a dependence might be placed in the time of action, whilst he forbore from placing the others in any post of responsibility. Nor were his own party the only subjects of his curiosity. Until this eventful period of his life, he had seen but little of the world, "and now," observes his biographer, "he fancied himself on his travels." He therefore passed over no object of interest cursorily; at every town he visited, he inquired what were the customs of the place—what monuments of celebrated men, or other objects of antiquity were to be found there; and of these he made written notes; whilst in the council and the camp, he studied the tempers and passions of men.

When, upon the forces arriving at Hawick, the Highlanders mutinied, and going to the top of a rising ground declared that they would not stir a step farther, but would march with Lord Wristoun to the west of Scotland, Mr. Radcliffe thought their views reasonable, and advocated the endeavour to strike a bold stroke in Scotland, and to aim at the entire conquest of that kingdom. His opinion, which events justified, was overruled, and the leaders of his party were resolute in continuing their fatal and rash project of proceeding to England. Mr. Radcliffe, on finding that his representations were ineffectual, begged that he might have an hundred horse given to him, that with them he might try his fortune with the Highlanders: this was also denied him, for fear of weakening the force; and he was constrained to proceed with his confederates in arms to Preston.

In the action at that place, Mr. Radcliffe behaved with a heroism that deserved a happier fate. It was a fine sight to behold him and his brother Lord Derwentwater, endeavouring to animate their men, by words and example, and maintaining their ground with unequalled bravery, obliging the king's forces to retire. During the action Mr. Radcliffe encountered the utmost danger, standing in the midst of the firing, and doing as much duty as the lowest soldiers in the ranks. But his life was spared only to encounter a more disastrous termination, after a long and wearisome exile. When, being invested on all sides by the enemy, the insurgents proposed a capitulation, the gallant young man exclaimed, "that he would rather die, with his sword in his hand, like a man of honour, than be dragged to the gallows, there to die like a dog." These exclamations fell unheeded; and he was obliged to submit with the rest; soon afterwards, this fine, high-spirited youth, was carried to Newgate, there to await his trial, in company with his companions in error and misfortune.

In Newgate, Mr. Radcliffe witnessed a scene of desperation, accompanied with the ordinary circumstances of licentiousness, and reckless misery, which, unchecked by adequate regulations, the prisons of that day afforded. Until after the execution of Lord Derwentwater and of Lord Kenmure had taken place, hopes of a reprieve sustained the unhappy prisoners in Newgate, and, "flaunting apparel, venison pasties," wine, and other luxuries, for which they paid an enormous price, were the ordinary indulgences of those who were incarcerated in that crowded receptacle.[406]

Contributions were made from many different quarters for the prisoners; and the friends of the "rebels" were observed to be also very generous to the turnkeys. Numbers of ladies visited the prison, and a choice of the most expensive viands was daily proffered by the lavish kindness of their fair enthusiasts. Of course much scandal followed upon the steps of this dangerous and costly kindness; and escapes were facilitated, perhaps, not without connivance on the part of Government. On the fourteenth of March an attempt was made by some of these unfortunate people to get out of the press-yard, by breaking through a part of the wall, from which they were to be let down by a rope; but they were discovered, and, in consequence, heavily ironed. Nevertheless, on the twenty-third of March almost all of the prisoners were released from their fetters, an indulgence which was a proof of the lenity of the Government, as the ordinary keepers of the prison would not have dared to have allowed it.[407] After this, Mr. Forster and others amused themselves with the game of shuttlecock, at which, relates the author of the Secret History of the Rebels in Newgate, the "valiant Forster beat every one who engaged him: so that he triumphed with his feathers in the prison, though he could not do it in the field." On the tenth of April that gentleman made his escape: and henceforth, a lieutenant, with thirty of the Foot Guards, was ordered to do constant duty at Newgate. Meantime, crowded as the building was, a spotted fever broke out, and seemed likely to relieve the civil authorities from no small number of the unfortunate prisoners.