There were groans of indignation and disappointed revenge as the citizens began to disperse and return to their respective homes; but some of them gathered in knots, and several individuals were seen to pass from group to group talking excitedly about the injustice of Wilson's death, and how much more he was entitled to mercy than this man, who had just been granted a reprieve. An Edinburgh mob, when thoroughly excited, had always been considered one' of the fiercest that could be found in Europe, and it was not easy to suppress them. They took their departure from Grass-market, but they were to be heard from soon again; for that very night they assembled to the number of four or five thousand, seized and closed the city gates, took possession of all the arms belonging to the City Guard, set fire to the prison gate, and released every prisoner confined within, excepting Captain Porteous. Him they dragged to the place of execution, and with all the solemnity of a legal proceeding hanged him, saying that they wanted to show the world that no authority should have power to dispense with the laws of Scotland, while many talked in the coarsest and most opprobrious terms of the queen and her reprieve. As soon as this horrible murder was committed the mob was appeased and dispersed without further violence to any one.
Queen Caroline was excessively indignant, particularly with Captain Moyle, commander of the troops, who had refused to use his authority in suppressing the riot. She declared that he deserved to be shot by order of court-martial quite as much as the rioters deserved to be hanged. Even Sir Robert Walpole, who tried to soften her majesty's temper, acknowledged that Moyle had acted like a fool, knave, and coward.
When the Edinburgh jail was thrown open by the mob on the night of the Porteous murder, there was among the prisoners a lovely, fair-haired young woman, named Effie Deans, who had been arrested on a charge of having killed her infant. This circumstance would not be in place here, excepting as it led to an act of sympathy and generosity on the part of Queen Caroline which shows a pleasing trait in her character.
Effie Deans had a sister, ten years older than herself, named Jeanie, who was so much distressed at the punishment of one in whose innocence she had the utmost confidence, that she was determined to get a pardon for her if possible. For that purpose she applied to Mr. Butler, a young minister, to whom she was engaged to be married. He, too, believed in Effie's innocence, and resolved to aid his lady-love in her worthy endeavor to save her sister. After a few moments of reflection he remembered that his father and grandfather had rendered important service to the ancestors of the Duke of Argyle, whose influence with Queen Caroline was very great; he, therefore, gave Jeanie a paper, which had descended as an heirloom in his family, stating that in consideration of the aid rendered to the Argyle family, all the descendants thereof were earnestly enjoined to grant any reasonable demand that might ever be made by the Butlers.
Armed with this document, Jeanie sought the presence of the duke, who, after inquiring into her sister's trouble and carefully examining the paper she gave him, told her to come to him two days later, and he would do his best to serve her, adding: "But God has the hearts of kings in his own hand."
Instead of waiting for Jeanie Deans the Duke of Argyle sent one of his servants the next day in a coach to fetch her, and after a long drive she found herself on a turnpike road leading to London. The duke's servant got down from the carriage, and opened the door just as his master appeared. "You have been punctual, I see, Jeanie," said the duke as he placed her in a large chariot drawn by four horses, and seated himself by her side, giving his footman an order to drive forward rapidly. It is not our province to give all the details of this interesting adventure, which anybody may read in Sir Walter Scott's "Heart of Midlothian" for himself; we will mention only that part of it which refers to the queen.
When Jeanie walked into the gardens of Kensington Palace with the Duke of Argyle, she saw two ladies strolling about. They were her majesty and an attendant; but the young girl did not suspect the rank of the person whom the duke approached and conversed with for several minutes, while she stood at some distance away. Neither could she hear what was said, but presently she was told by a signal from the duke to advance.
Queen Caroline smiled at the shy, awkward manner of the quiet, demure little Scotchwoman as she came towards her, and in a low, sweet voice, with a broad northern ac- cent, asked "her leddyship to have pity on a poor misguided young creature."
"Stand up, young woman," said the queen, in a kind tone, "and tell me what sort of barbarous folk your country people are, where child-murder is become so common as to require the restraint of laws like yours?"
"If your leddyship pleases," answered Jeanie, "there are mony places besides Scotland where mothers are unkind to their ain flesh and blood."