Then, walking down the stairway, came the poor King, leaning on the arm of Berwick, and holding by the other hand the little Prince of Wales. Leaving the child to Berwick, the King came into the courtyard, and beginning with the commandant passed down the line, and wrote down in his pocket-book the name and rank of every one of them, thanking each man particularly for his loyalty. The last name the king wrote down was that of Roger Egremont, Gentleman, of Egremont in Devonshire. To Roger he said,—
“You have given up a noble heritage to follow your king, Mr. Egremont.”
“Sir,” replied Roger. “I durst not do otherwise, as I am a true man.”
The King then addressed them, speaking not without a certain majesty,—for James Stuart bore his sorrows manfully, without complaint or repining. He said,—
THEN, WALKING DOWN THE STAIRWAY, CAME THE POOR KING
“Gentlemen, my own misfortunes are not so nigh my heart as yours. It grieves me beyond what I can express to see so many brave and worthy gentlemen who had once the prospect of being the chief officers in my army reduced to the stations of private soldiers. The sense of what all of you have done and undergone for your loyalty hath made so deep an impression on my heart that if it please God to restore me, it is impossible I can be forgetful of your services and sufferings. Neither can there be any posts in my armies but what you may have just pretensions to. As for my son, your Prince, he is of your own blood; and as his education will be from you it is not supposable he can ever forget your merits. At your own desire you are now going a long march, far distant from me. I have taken care to provide you with money, shoes and stockings, and other necessaries. Fear God and love one another. Write all your wants particularly to me, and depend upon it always to find in me your father and King.”[1]
To this, General Buchan replied for the corps; speaking briefly and strongly, as men in their sad and desperate case should speak.
“For the sake of your Majesty we will submit to the meanest circumstances and undergo the greatest hardships and fatigues that reason can imagine or misfortune can inflict until God shall please to restore you and us to our own.”
The King at this took off his hat and bowed his gray head low to them. Then he turned and walked a few steps away, up the stairway, where stood the little Prince of Wales, silent and wondering, and clinging to Berwick. And having gone a little way, the King returned, still carrying his hat in his hand, and bowed low again to the corps—and then burst into a passion of tears.