This triple execution, which, as I have said, took place shortly before the Jacobite rising in Scotland in the “’45,” may have had something to do with the strong feeling against the English Government which prevailed in the North; it was certainly one of those acts by which governments make themselves and their ministers odious. And the execution on Tower Green in 1744 may well have caused the unpopularity, not to say hatred, amongst the Scotch of the English Government.
The only reference I have been able to find to this event are two short passages in Hume and Smollett’s “History of England” (vol. xi. page 164), and the other in a letter from Horace Walpole to Sir Horace Mann (“Walpole’s Letters,” vol. i., Letter LXXIV.).
Published according to Act of Parliament 1753
A North West View of the Tower of London. | Vue du coté du Nord-ouest de la Tour de Londres.
“King George was in Germany,” writes Hume, “the Duke of Cumberland, at the head of the British army, was employed in Flanders, and great part of the Highlanders were keen for insurrection; their natural feelings were, on this occasion, stimulated by the suggestion of revenge. At the beginning of the war, a regiment of those people had been formed and transported with the rest of the British troops to Flanders. Before they were embarked, a number of them deserted with their arms, on pretence that they had been decoyed into the service by promises and assurances that they should never be sent abroad; and this was really the case. They were overtaken by a body of horse, persuaded to submit, brought back to London, pinioned like malefactors, and tried for desertion; three were shot to death in terrorem, and the rest were sent to the plantations. Those who suffered were persons of some consequence in their own country, and their fate was deeply resented by the clans to which they belonged. It was considered a national outrage, and the Highlanders, who are naturally vindictive, waited impatiently for an opportunity of vengeance.”
So far, the historian upon the subject. This is the letter-writer’s account of the matter. “We are,” writes Walpole to Mann on the 19th May 1743, “in more confusion than we care to own. There lately came up a highland regiment from Scotland to be sent abroad. One heard of nothing but their good discipline and quiet disposition. When the day came for their going to the water-side, one hundred and nine of them mutinied, and marched away in a body. They did not care to go to where it would be equivocal for what King they fought. Three companies of dragoons are sent after them. If you happen to hear of any rising, don’t be surprised—I shall not, I assure you. Sir Robert Monroe, their Lieutenant-Colonel, before their leaving Scotland, asked some of the Ministry: ‘But suppose there should be any rebellion in Scotland, what shall we do for these eight hundred men?’ it was answered, ‘Why, there would be eight hundred fewer rebels there.’”
It seems to have been a scandalous act on the part of the Government to have drafted these Scottish soldiers to Flanders immediately upon their arrival in London, after they had promised that they should not be taken on foreign service. And the cruelly harsh treatment meted out to the deserters, and the execution of the three men, must have stirred up a strong feeling of hatred in Scotland against George the Second’s Government—a hatred which burst into open flame in the “’45.”
The next event in the history of the Tower is the imprisonment and execution of the Scotch Jacobite lords after the rebellion of 1745. For more than a score of years the old fortress had been free of political prisoners, and Tower Hill had seen no more executions. The blood of the “Rebel Lords,” as they were called, was the last that dyed the scaffold in England. These “Rebel Lords” were the Marquis of Tullibardine, the Earl of Cromarty, and Lords Kilmarnock and Balmerino. Tullibardine had already taken up arms for the cause of James in 1715, and when he was taken prisoner after the “’45,” was a broken-down, elderly man whose life was drawing to a close, and who was so feeble that, when the standard of Prince Charles was unfurled at Glenfinnan, he had to be supported by men upon either side whilst he held the flagstaff. His father, the Duke of Athol, had obtained leave from George I. to will his title and estates to his second surviving son, James, who succeeded to the dukedom in 1729. Tullibardine had meanwhile fled to France, but in 1719 made a desperate attempt to raise the clans at Kinsale. He was defeated by General Wightmore at Glenshiel, and a proclamation was issued for his apprehension, together with the Earl Marischal and the Earl of Seaforth. A reward of two thousand pounds was promised for the capture of any of these noblemen. During the next twenty-six years Tullibardine’s life was passed in France. On the 25th of July 1745, he landed with Prince Charles at Borodale, and, as it has been said, it was he who unfurled the Prince’s standard on the 19th of August at Glenfinnan.
