How Macleod kept his promise we know. He sent his forces to join Loudon’s detachment in Hanoverian service; the whole array was frightened back in an attempt to surprise and capture Charles. They all ran like hares from the blacksmith of Moy, with one or two gardeners and other retainers of Lady Mackintosh, and the only man slain was Macrimmon, Macleod’s piper, the composer of the prophetic lament, ‘Macleod shall return, but Macrimmon shall never!’ Murray comments with great severity on Macleod’s treason, and, in his promise, and that of others, finds justification for Charles’s adventure, and an answer to the question, ‘Why he made an attempt of such consequence with so small a force?’ All this leaves Murray in a quandary.... To send such promises (as he did) was to encourage Charles in a desperate project. To be sure Murray, later, did attempt to stop Charles; but he should never have sent him these signed encouragements, both from Macleod and Stewart of Appin. But Murray, he says, now changed his mind; he made out a journal of all his proceedings, showing Charles (most inconsistently) that all the party, except the Duke of Perth, ‘were unanimous against his coming without a force.’ These papers Murray entrusted, for Charles, to Traquair, who was going to England, and meant to proceed to France, using this very singular expression, ‘that he would see the Prince, though in a bawdy house. The present Earl of Weymss and Laird of Glengarry [Pickle] can vouch this. The latter has since repeated it to me in my house in London.’
Traquair now went to London, but he never went to France, nor did he transmit the warning to Charles. Meanwhile Murray extracted 1,500l. from the new Duke of Hamilton (a new fact), and the Duke of Perth paid an equal sum, and even offered to mortgage his estate. Hamilton also gave a verbal promise to join Charles ‘with all the forces he could raise.’ Murray again wrote to Charles, saying that he must bring at least 6,000 men. Perth, Elcho, and Lochiel signed this letter. This letter was sent by one John Macnaughten. Did it ever arrive? In the Stuart Papers is a letter signed ‘J. Barclay,’ and undated. It is clearly from Murray to Charles, and announces the journal entrusted to Traquair, but contains no warning.[37]
In a letter of March 14, 1745, to James, Charles refers to this letter announcing the journal and other despatches, which had not arrived—as Traquair never sent them. On April 9, Charles appears to refer to Macnaughten’s budget of letters as not yet deciphered.[38]
From London Traquair sent only a note of doubtful and, at best, of insignificant meaning. Nothing whatever was settled or arranged. Then came Sir Hector, chief of the Macleans, to Scotland, where he was arrested. Now, Murray reflected that the epistle sent by Macnaughten ‘contained rather a wish than an advice, and might not be sufficient to prevent the Prince’s coming.’ Murray therefore sent, as a final warning, that set of papers which Traquair had not forwarded, entrusting it to Young Glengarry, at the end of May 1745. But Glengarry did not succeed in seeing Charles, who was thus left without warning not to come. Perhaps no warning would have stopped him; at all events he received none, and the die was cast. The Prince embarked on June 22.
Murray’s whole book is one of self-justification. He may clear himself of having suggested the unaided enterprise to Charles. But, partly through the frivolity of Traquair, partly through the zeal of Murray, Charles was left without decisive admonition. He saw his party distracted: for a year and a half France had treated him ‘scandalously’ (as even the patient James averred), and he determined to force the hands both of France and the Jacobites. He pawned the Sobieski rubies—‘the Prince would wear them with a very sore heart on this side of the water’—he put his life to the hazard. If ever an attempt was to be made at all, Charles did well. England was empty of troops. A success or two, the Prince reckoned, must unite the distracted party on the one hand, and tempt or compel France to action on the other. His motto was de l’audace! If all men had been Lochiels, if the Duke of Hamilton, Macleod, Traquair, Lovat, Beaufort, Barrymore, Orrery, and the rest, had honour and truth, if France had such a thing as a policy, and could seize an opportunity, Charles would have won the Crown. But many men are not Lochiels, and, if France had a policy, it was not to restore the Stuarts, but to use them as a mere diversion.
By the end of May Macnaughten returned, with news that Charles would be in Scotland by July. This caused Murray much chagrin, but he at once warned Perth, Lochiel, and Macleod. To the Duke of Hamilton he gave the Prince’s commission, ‘which he accepted with great cheerfulness.’ Murray then went to Lochiel, who remarked that every man of honour was bound to rise, and who quite trusted Lovat and Macleod. He leaned on broken reeds. Lovat temporised, Macleod turned his coat. Here Murray’s MS. breaks off, and he continues the history of the Rising ‘from Moidart to Derby.’
The military part of Murray’s ‘Memorials’ is full of reflections on Charles’s ‘unparalleled good nature and humanity,’ and his strategic skill. Murray had desired to be an aide-de-camp: he clearly thinks himself a good judge of warfare. He was obliged to be Secretary, but did not covet that office. He, alone, had any previous personal knowledge of Charles, with whom he was such a favourite as to excite the jealousy of Lord George Murray and of Maxwell of Kirkconnell. These jealousies were of perilous consequence. Maxwell, writing after Murray was the most detested man on earth, charges heavily against him: ‘He began by representing Lord George as a traitor to the Prince; he assured him that he had joined on purpose to have an opportunity of delivering him up to Government.’ Lord George heard of this, and was deeply affected. Prestonpans nearly opened Charles’s eyes, but Lord George’s ‘haughty and overbearing manner prevented a thorough reconciliation, and seconded the malicious insinuations of his rival.... He now and then broke into such violent sallies as the Prince could not digest....’
Now the loyalty of Lord George is beyond all shadow of suspicion. Till his death, in 1760, he was the faithful and devoted subject of King James. Even Murray, in his MSS., does not breathe a word against him. But, if Murray did, at first, conceive suspicions, and suggest precautions, it is impossible to blame him. What was Lord George’s position? He had been out, at Glenshiel, in 1719, with his brother, Tullibardine. He was pardoned, and was residing in Scotland. He never appears as a Jacobite in the negotiations of 1740-45. His brother William, who, but for his steady Jacobitism, would have been Duke of Atholl, came over with Charles. The actual Duke, de facto, Lord George’s brother James, deserted Blair Atholl on the approach of the Highlanders, and went to London. Tullibardine (William) assumed the title of Duke, and occupied Blair. Lord George also joined the Prince. But Murray had to ask himself, was Lord George in earnest? Murray knew the treachery of the times, and had employed James Mohr Macgregor, known to be a Hanoverian spy, to beguile Cope and the Lord Chief Justice. Was Lord George, Murray would think, playing James Mohr’s part on the other side?
Murray had reason for suspicion. As late as August 20, 1745, after the standard was raised at Glenfinnan, Lord George wrote to the Lord Advocate from Dunkeld. He announced that, on the following day, he and Old Glengarry would wait on Cope at Crieff. Cope was marching North to fight the Prince. Lord George talked of ‘the Pretender,’ and sent information. He did wait on Cope. As late as September 1, he was corresponding with his Hanoverian brother, Duke James, but, on September 3, he announced to his brother that he was about to join the Prince. ‘Duty to King and Country overweighs everything.’[39]