king is much inclined to some mercy; but the duke (Cumberland), who has not so much of Cæsar after a victory as in gaining it, is for the utmost severity. It was lately proposed in the city, to present him with the freedom of some company; one of the aldermen said aloud, "Then let it be of the butchers!" The Scotch and his royal highness are not at all guarded in their expressions of each other. When he went to Edinburgh in his pursuit of the rebels, they would not admit his guard, alleging that it was contrary to their privileges; but they rode in, sword in hand; and the duke, very justly incensed, refused to see any of the magistrates. He came with the utmost expedition to town, in order for Flanders; but found that the court of Vienna had already sent prince Charles* thither, without the least notifica. tion; at which both the king and duke are greatly offended. When the latter waited on his brother, the prince carried him into a room that hangs over the wall of St. James's park, and stood there with his arm about his neck, to charm the gazing mob. Murray, the pretender's secretary, has made ample confessions; the earl of Traquair and Dr. Barry, a physician, are apprehended, and more warrants are out. So much for rebels. Old We know nothing certainly of the young pretender, but that he is concealed in Scotland, and devoured with distempers. I really wonder how an Italian constitution can have supported such rigours. He has said, that "he did not see what he had to be ashamed of; and that if he had lost one battle he had gained two." Lovat curses Cope and Hawley for the loss of those two, and says, if they had done their duty, he had never been in this scrape. Cope is actually going to be tried; but Hawley, who is fifty times more culpable, is saved by partiality. carried by incapacity; Hawley by insolence and carelessness. Cope mis Lord Cromarty is reprieved; the prince asked his life, and his wife made great intercession. Duke Hamilton's intercession for lord Kilmarnock has rather hurried him to the block; he and lord Balmerino are to die next Monday. Lord Kilmarnock, with the greatest nobleness of soul, desired to have lord Cromarty preferred to himself for pardon, if there could be but one saved; and lord Balmerino laments that himself and lord Lovat were not taken at the same time, "For then," says he, "we might have been sacrificed and those other two brave men escaped.” Indeed, lord Cromarty does not much deserve the epithet, for he wept whenever his execution was mentioned. Balmerino is jolly with his pretty Peggy. There is a remarkable story of him at the battle of Dumblane, where the duke of Argyle, his colonel, answered for him, on his being suspected. He behaved well; but as soon as we had gained the victory, went off with his troop to the pretender, protesting that he had never feared death but that day, as he had been fighting against his conscience. Popularity has changed sides since the year fifteen, for now the city and the generality are very angry that so many rebels have been pardoned. Some of those taken at Carlisle dispersed papers at their execution, saying, they forgave all men but three, the elector of Hanover, the pretended duke of Cumberland, and the duke of Richmond, who signed the capitulation at Carlisle. *Of Lorraine. ** M M 66 THE EXECUTION OF THE JACOBITE LORDS. * HORACE Walpole. upon myself for the country), I was not at it, but had two persons I came from town (take notice I put this place the day after the execution of the rebel lords. come to me directly who were at the next house to the scaffold; and I saw another who was upon it, so that you may depend upon my accounts. They were Just before they came out of the Tower, lord Balmerino drank a bumper to king James's health. As the clock struck ten, they came forth on foot, lord Kilmarnock all in black, his hair unpowdered in a bag, supported by Forster, the great presby terian, and by Mr. Home, a young clergyman, his friend. Lord Balmerino followed, alone, in a blue coat turned up with red, his rebellious regimentals, a flannel waistcoat, and his shroud beneath; their hearses following. conducted to a house near the scaffold; the room forwards had benches for spec tators; in the second lord Kilmarnock was put, and in the third backwards, lord Balmerino; all three chambers hung with black. Here they parted! Balmerino embraced the other, and said, "My lord, I wish I could suffer for both." He had scarce left him, before he desired again to see him, and then asked him, "My lord Kilmarnock, do you know anything of the resolution taken in our army the day before the battle of Culloden, to put the English prisoners to death?" He replied, My lord, I was not present; but since I came hither, I have had all the reason in the world to believe that there was such an order taken, and I hear the duke has the pocket-book with the order." Balmerino answered, "It was a lie, raised to es cuse their barbarity to us." Take notice, that the duke's charging this on lord! Kilmarnock (certainly on mis-information), decided this unhappy man's fate! The most now pretended is, that it would have come to lord Kilmarnock's turn to have given the word for the slaughter as lieutenant-general, with the patent for which he was immediately drawn into the rebellion, after having been staggered by his wife, her mother, his own poverty, and the defeat of Cope. He remained an hour and half in the house, and shed tears. At last he came to the scaffold, certainly much terrified, but with a resolution that prevented his behaving in the least meanly, or unlike a gentleman. He took no notice of the crowd, only to desire that the baize might be lifted up from the rails, that the mob might see the spectacle. He stood and prayed some time with Forster, who wept over him, exhorted, and encouraged him. He delivered a long speech to the sheriff, and with a noble manliness stuck to the recantation he had made at his trial; declaring he wished that all who embarked in the same cause might meet the same fate. He then took off his bag, and waistcoat with great composure, and after some trouble put on a napkin cap, and then several times tried the block, the executioner who was in white with a white apron, out of tenderness concealing the axe behind himself. At last the earl knelt down, with a visible unwillingness to depart, and after five minutes dropped his handkerchief-the signal, and his head was cut off at once, only hanging by a bit of skin, and was received in a scarlet cloth by four of the undertaker's men kneeling, who wrapped it up, and put it into the coffin with the body, orders having been given not to expose the head, as used to be the custom. coat The scaffold was immediately new strewed with sawdust, the block new covered, the executioner new dressed, and a new axe brought. Then came old Balmerino, treading with the air of a general. As soon as he mounted the scaffold, he read the inscription on his coffin, as he did again afterwards. He then surveyed the spectators, who were in amazing numbers, even upon the masts of ships in the river, • Windsor. and pulling out his spectacles, read a treasonable speech, which he delivered to the sheriff, and said the young pretender was so sweet a prince, that flesh and blood could not resist following him; and lying down to try the block, he said, "If I had a thousand lives I would lay them all down here in the same cause.” He said, if he had not taken the sacrament the day before, he would have knocked down Williamson, the lieutenant of the Tower, for his ill-usage of him. He took the axe and felt it, and asked the headsman how many blows he had given lord Kilmarnock ; and gave him three guineas. Two clergymen who attended him coming up, he said, "No, gentlemen, I believe you have already done me all the service you can.' Then he went to the corner of the scaffold, and called very loud for the warder to give him his periwig, which he took off, and put on a nightcap of Scotch plaid; and then pulled off his coat and waistcoat, and lay down. But being told he was on the wrong side, vaulted round, and immediately gave the sign by tossing up his arm, as if he were giving the signal for battle. He received three blows, but the first certainly took away all sensation. He was not a quarter of a hour on the scaffold; lord Kilmarnock above half a one. Balmerino certainly died with the intrepidity of a hero, but with the insensibility of one too. As he walked from his prison to execution, seeing every window and top of house filled with spectators, he cried out, "Look, look! how they are all piled up like rotten oranges." I have been living at old Lovat's trial, and was willing to have it over before I talked to you of it. It lasted seven days; the evidence was as strong as possible; and after all he had denounced, he made no defence. The solicitor-general, who was one of the managers for the house of commons, shone extremely; the attorneygeneral, who is a much greater lawyer, is cold and tedious. The old creature's behaviour has been foolish, and at last indecent. I see little of parts in him, nor attribute much to that cunning for which he is so famous: it might catch wild highlanders; but the art of dissimulation and flattery is so refined and improved, that it is of little use now where it is not very delicate. His character seems a mixture of tyranny and pride in his villainy. I must make you a little acquainted with him. In his own domain he governed despotically, either burning or plundering the lands and houses of his open enemies, or taking off his secret ones by the assistance of his cook, who was his poisoner in chief. He had two servants, who married without his consent. He said, "You shall have enough of each other," and stowed them in a dungeon, that had been a well, for three weeks. When he came to the Tower, he told them that if he were not so old and infirm, they would find it difficult to keep him there. They told him they had kept much younger. "Yes," said he, "but they were inexperienced, they had not broke so many gaols as I have." At his own house, he used to say that for thirty years of his life he never saw a gallows but it made his neck ache. His last act was to shift his treason upon his eldest son, whom he forced into the rebellion. He told Williamson, the lieutenant of the Tower, "We will hang my eldest son, and then my second shall marry your niece." He has a sort of ready humour at repartee, not very well adapted to his situation. One day that Williamson complained that he could not sleep, he was so haunted by rats, he replied, "What do you say, that you are so haunted with Ratcliffes?" At his trial he affected great weakness and infirmities, but often broke out into passions; particularly at the first witness, who was his vassal. He asked him how he dared come thither? The man replied, to satisfy his conscience. Murray, the pretender's secretary, was the chief evidence, who, in the course of his information, mentioned lord Traquair's having conversed with lord Barrymore, sir Watkin Williams, and sir John Cotton on the pretender's affairs, but that they were shy. He was proceeding to name others, * * * * but was stopped by lord Talbot, and the court acquiesced-I think very indecently. It is imagined the duchess of Norfolk would have come next upon the stage. The two knights were present, as was Macleod, against whom a bitter letter from Lovat was read, accusing him of breach of faith, and afterwards Lovat summoned him to answer some questions he had to ask; but did not. It is much expected that lord Traquair, who is a great coward, will give ample information of the whole plot. When sir Everard Falconer had been examined against Lovat, the lord high steward asked the latter if he had anything to say to sir Everard. He replied, "No; but that he was his humble servant, and wished him joy of his young wife." The two last days he behaved ridiculously, joking and making everybody laugh, even at the sentence. He said to lord Ilchester, who sat near the bar, “Je meurs pour ma patrie, et ne m'en soucie guères." When he withdrew, he said, “Adieu, my lords, we shall never meet again in the same place." He says he will be hanged, for that his neck is so short and bended, that he should be struck in the shoulders. I did not think it possible to feel so little as I did at so melancholy a spectacle, but tyranny and villainy, wound up to buffoonery, took off the edge of concern. * * * I deferred writing to you, as long as they deferred the execution of old Lovat, because I had a mind to send you some account of his death, as I had of his trial. He was beheaded yesterday, and died extremely well, without passion, affectation, buffoonery, or timidity; his behaviour was natural and intrepid. He professed himself a Jansenist; made no speech, but sat down a little while in a chair on the scaffold, and talked to the people round him. He said, "He was glad to suffer for his country, dulce est pro Patriû mori; that he did not know how, but he had always loved it, nescio quae natale solum, &c.; that he had never swerved from his principles; that this was the character of his family, who had been gentlemen for five hundred years." He lay down quietly, gave the sign soon, and was dispatched at a blow. I believe it will strike some terror into the highlands, when they hear that there is any power great enough to bring so potent a tyrant to the block. A scaffold fell down and killed several persons; one, a man that had rid post from Salisbury the day before to see the ceremony; and a woman was taken up dead who had a live child in her arms. The body is sent to Scotland ;† the day was cold, and before it set out, the coachman drove the hearse about the court before my lord Traquair's dungeon, which could be no agreeable sight; it might to lonli Cromartie, who is above the chair.‡ * PUNISHMENT OF THE OTHER REBELS. SIR WALTER SCOTT. While the blood of the nobility concerned in the insurrection of 1745 was flowing thus plentifully, the criminals of minor importance had no cause to think that justice was aristocratic in her selection of victims. The persons who earliest fell into the hands of the government, were the officers of the Manchester regiment, left, as we have seen, in Carlisle after the retreat from Derby. Of these the colonel and eight other persons who had held commissions, were tried and condemned in Londen. Eight others were found guilty at the same time, but were reprieved. Those who were destined for execution, underwent the doom of law in its most horrible shape, upon Kennington Common; where they avowed their political principles, and diei firmly. * He was secretary to the duke of Cumberland during the rebellion. He had been pardoned. A melancholy and romantic incident took place amid the terrors of the executions. A young lady, of good family and handsome fortune, who had been contracted in marriage to James Dawson, one of the sufferers, had taken the desperate resolution of attending on the horrid ceremonial. She beheld her lover, after having been suspended for a few minutes, but not till death, (for such was the barbarous sentence,) cut down, embowelled, and mangled by the knife of the executioner. All this she supported with apparent fortitude; but when she saw the last scene finished, by throwing Dawson's heart into the fire, she drew her head within the carriage, repeated his name, and expired on the spot. This melancholy circumstance was made by Mr. Shenstone the theme of a tragic ballad. The mob of London had hooted these unfortunate gentlemen as they passed to and from their trial, but they witnessed their last sufferings with decency. Three Scottish officers of the party taken at Carlisle, were next condemned and executed in the same manner as the former; others were tried in the like manner, and five were ordered for execution; among these, sir John Wedderburn, baronet, was the most distinguished. At Carlisle no less than 385 prisoners had been assembled, with the purpose of trying a select number of them at that place, where their guilt had been chiefly manifested. From this mass 119 were selected for indictment and trial at the principal towns in the north. At York, the grand jury found bills against 75 insurgents. Upon this occasion, the chaplain of the high sheriff of Yorkshire preached before the judges on the very significant text (Numbers, xxv. 5,) "And Moses said unto the judges of Israel, slay ye every one his man that were joined unto Baalpeor." At York and Carlisle seventy persons upon the whole received sentence of death; some were acquitted on the plea of having been forced into the rebellion by their chiefs. This recognises a principle which might have been carried much farther; when it is considered how much by education and principle these wretched kerns were at the disposal of their leaders, a similar apology ought, in justice, to have been admitted as an excuse to a much larger extent. The law, which makes allowance for the influence of a husband over a wife, or a father over a son, even when it involves them in guilt, ought unquestionably to have had the same consideration for the clansmen, who were trained up in the most absolute ideas of obedience to their chief, and politically exerted no judgment of their own. Nine persons were executed at Carlisle on the 18th of October. The list contained one or two names of distinction; as Buchanan of Arnpryor, the chief of his name ; MacDonald of Kinloch-Moidart, one of the first who received the prince on his landing; MacDonald of Teindreich, who began the war by attacking captain Scott's detachment when marching to Fort Augustus, and John MacNaughton, a person of little note, unless in so far as he was said, but it is believed erroneously, to have been the individual by whose hand colonel Gardiner fell at Preston. Six criminals suffered at Brampton; seven were executed at Penrith, and twenty-two at the city of York; eleven more were afterwards executed at Carlisle; nearly eighty in all were sacrificed to the terrors which the insurrection had inspired. These unfortunate sufferers were of different ages, rank, and habits, both of body and mind; they agreed, however, in their behaviour upon the scaffold. They prayed for the exiled family, expressed their devotion to the cause in which they died, and particularly their admiration of the princely leader whom they lad followed, till their attachment conducted them to this dreadful fate. It may be justly questioned, whether the lives of these men, supposing every one of them to have been an apostle of Jacobitism, could have done so much to prolong their doctrines, as the horror and loathing inspired by so many bloody punishments. |