Macallester was now acting as led captain and henchman to the one-eyed Lord Clancarty, who began to rail in good set terms against all and sundry. For his own purposes, ‘for just and powerful reasons,’ Macallester kept a journal of these libellous remarks, obviously for use against Clancarty. Living at that nobleman’s table, Macallester played his favourite part of spy for the mere love of the profession. He writes:
‘Tuesday, January 11, 1757.—When we had drunk hard after supper he broke out, saying, “By God! dear Mac, I’ll tell you a secret you don’t know; there is not a greater scoundrel on the face of the earth than that same Prince; he is in his heart a coward and a poltroon; would rather live in a garret with some Scotch thieves, to drink and smoak, than serve me, or any of those who have lost our estates for his family and himself. . . . He is so great a scoundrel that he will lie even when drunk: a time when all other men’s hearts are most open, and will speak the truth, or what they think . . .
‘He damned himself if he did not love an Irish drummer better than any of the breed. “The Prince has no more religion,” said this pious enthusiast, “than one of my coach-horses.” . . . He asked me if I knew Jemmy Dawkins. I said I did not. “He could give you an account of them,” said he, “but Lord Marischal has given the true character of the Prince, and certified under his hand to the people of England what a scoundrel he is [297] . . . The Prince had the canaille of Scotland to assist him, thieves, robbers, and the like. . . ”’
The Prince had confided to Clancarty the English Jacobites’ desire that he would put away Miss Walkinshaw. ‘The Prince, swearing, said he would not put away a cat to please such fellows;’ but, as Lord Clancarty never opened his mouth without a curse, his evidence is not valuable. On March 8, hearing that Lochgarry was in the neighbourhood, Clancarty called him a ‘thief and a cow-stealer,’ and bade the footman lock up the plate! The brave Lochgarry, however, came to dinner, as being unaware of his Lordship’s sentiments.
Enough of the elegant conversation of this one-eyed, slovenly Irish nobleman, whom we later find passing his Christmas with Prince Charles. [298] Mr. Macallester now made two new friends, the adventurous Dumont and a Mr. Lewis. In July 1757, Lewis and Macallester went to Paris, and were much with Lord Clare (de Thomond). In December, Lord Clancarty came hunting for our spy, ‘raging like a madman’ after Macallester, much to that hero’s discomposure, for, being as silly as he was base, he had let out the secret of his ‘Clancarty Elegant Extracts.’ His Lordship, in fact, accused Macallester of showing all his letters to Lord Clare, whom Clancarty hated. He then gave Macallester the lie, and next apologised; in fact, he behaved like Sir Francis Clavering. Before publishing his book, Macallester tried to ‘blackmail’ Clancarty. ‘His Lordship is now secretly and fully advertised that this matter is going to the press,’ and, indeed, it was matter to make the Irish peer uncomfortable in France, where he had consistently reviled the King.
It is probable that Macallester was now engaged in the French secret police.
He admits that he acted as a mouton, or prison spy, and gives a dreadful account of the horrors of Galbanon, where men lay in the dark and dirt for half a lifetime. Macallester next proses endlessly on the alleged Jesuit connection with Damien’s attack on Lous XV., and insists that the Jesuits, nobody knows why, meant to assassinate Prince Charles. He was in very little danger from Jesuits!
CHAPTER XIII
THE LAST HOPE. 1759
Charles asks Louis for money—Idea of employing him in 1757—Letter from Frederick—Chances in 1759—French friends—Murray and ‘the Pills’—Charles at Bouillon—Madame de Pompadour—Charles on Lord George Murray—The night march to Nairn—Manifestoes—Charles will only land in England—Murray wishes to repudiate the National Debt—Choiseul’s promises—Andrew Lumisden—The marshal’s old boots—Clancarty—Internal feuds of Jacobites—Scotch and Irish quarrels—The five of diamonds—Lord Elibank’s views—The expedition starting—Routed in Quiberon Bay—New hopes—Charles will not land in Scotland or Ireland—‘False subjects’—Pickle waits on events—His last letter—His ardent patriotism—Still in touch with the Prince—Offers to sell a regiment of Macdonalds—Spy or colonel?—Signs his real name—‘Alexander Macdonnell of Glengarry’—Death of Pickle—His services recognised.
After the fatal 10th of December, 1748, Charles had entertained a bitter hatred of France, though he was always careful to blame the Ministers of Louis, not the King himself. He even refused a French pension, but this was an attitude which he could not maintain. In 1756 (July 1) he actually wrote to Louis, asking for money.
‘Monsieur Mon Frère et Cousin,’ he said. ‘With the whole of Europe I admire your virtues . . . and the benefits with which you daily load your subjects . . . Since 1744, when I left Rome, I have run many risks, encountered many perils, and endured many vicissitudes of fortune, unaided by those from whom I had the right to expect assistance, unsuccoured even by My Father. In truth such of his subjects as espoused my cause have given me many proofs of zeal, and of good will, but, since open war broke out between France and England, I have not the same support. I know not what Destiny prepares for me, but I shall put it to the touch.’