The reception of Prince Charles at Manchester, was celebrated with demonstrations of enthusiastic joy. As he marched on foot into the town, at the head of the clans, halting to proclaim the Chevalier St. George, King, the bells rang, and preparations were made for illuminations and bonfires in the evening. The Prince was attended by twelve Scottish and English noblemen: from these he was distinguished by wearing the white cockade on the top of his cap, in the centre, instead of on the side, as did his general officers. Peculiarly formed to grace such occasions as a triumphal entry into an important and friendly town, Charles Edward quickly won the good will of the female part of the community; and the beauty and grace of the kingdom were soon, to use a phrase of a contemporary writer, enlisted in his behalf.
To the personal attributes of the Prince, "joining the good nature of the Stuarts with the spirit of the Sobieski," Charles Edward added one accomplishment which the monarch then on the throne of England did not possess: he spoke English well, although with a foreign accent: in this last respect, he resembled some of those around him, more especially the Duke of Perth, who, having been long abroad, in vain endeavoured to conceal the French idiom and pronunciation by affecting a broad Scottish dialect.[108]
Still, in spite of these advantages, and notwithstanding the known predilection of the Lancastrians for the cause of the Stuarts, the lowest populace alone joined the standard of Charles. One melancholy, though admirable exception has been already referred to in the person of Colonel Francis Townley. This gentleman was a member of an ancient family, and the nephew of Mr. Townley, whose seat in Townley Hall, Lancashire, lays claim to high antiquity; and yet, is modern in comparison with a former residence, once seated on what is still called the Castle Hill. Francis Townley was a man of literary acquirements, which, indeed, eminently distinguished his relative, the celebrated Charles Townley, who formed at Rome, and afterwards brought to London, the well-known collection of marbles which was bought by the Trustees of the British Museum for twenty thousand pounds; (supposed to be a sum far beneath its actual value,) and which still graces that national structure.
The family of Townley had been remarkable for their fidelity to the Stuarts long before Colonel Francis Townley raised a troop for the Chevalier. The grandfather of this unfortunate man, had been tried for rebellion, in 1715, but acquitted; it was therefore very unlikely that when his accomplished descendant espoused the same ill-starred cause, there would be any mercy shown to a family so deeply implicated in Jacobitism. Francis Townley was afterwards taken prisoner, and tried with other persons, chiefly captains in the Manchester regiment. Of these the greater number were hung on Kennington Common. The head of Colonel Townley was severed from his body, according to sentence, after death, and was placed upon Temple Bar; but those of most of his brothers in arms were preserved in spirits, and sent into the country, to be placed in public situations in Manchester and Carlisle.[109]
Prince Charles now prepared to proceed on his march to Macclesfield, while Lord George Murray was sent with his division to Congleton. The accompaniments of the Jacobite army, if we can venture to believe a letter inserted in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1745, and purporting to be written by a lady in Preston to her friend in London, formed a singular spectacle. Four ladies of some distinction are stated in this letter to have marched with the army. These were Lady Ogilvie, Mrs. Murray of Broughton, a lady of great beauty and spirit, the celebrated Jenny Cameron, and another female, unknown, but who is supposed to have been the mistress of Sir Thomas Sheridan. The populace, nevertheless, mistook Sheridan for a priest, and assigned to him the nick-name of the "Archbishop of Canterbury." The first two ladies went in a chariot by themselves; the others were in a coach and six with the young Chevalier, to whose dejection and weariness as he passed through Preston, Jenny Cameron is said to have administered cordials. By the same writer the Jacobite army are described as looking like "hunted hares." Such is a specimen of one of the ephemeral slanders of the day; and the circumstance of the coach and six tends to disprove the whole letter. The Prince, it is evident from every isolated account, marched on foot until he entered Derby.[110] It was, however, perfectly true that Mrs. Murray of Broughton and Lady Ogilvie, whose husbands were both with the army, attended the movements of the Highland force.
And now were the merits of Lord George Murray as a General, certain very soon to be called into active play; for, on the twenty-sixth of November, William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, had left London at the head of an army, to oppose the insurgents.
On the character of the royal individual who, in his twenty-fifth year came forward to rescue his country, as it was said, from the yoke of a foreign invader; and whose promising, but immature talents, backed by a great military force, were effectual in defeating the skill of an experienced General, some reflections will naturally arise.
William, Duke of Cumberland, was born in the year 1721. He very early demonstrated that predilection for military affairs which obtained for him from Walpole the praise of having been "one of the five only really great men whom he had ever seen." He very soon, also, betrayed that cruel and remorseless spirit which was wreaked on the brave and the defenceless; that indifference to suffering which too aptly was repaid by an indignant people with the name of "the Butcher;"—that thirst for blood which we read of in Heathen countries, before the commandments of the God of Israel, or the beautiful commentary of a Saviour of Mercy upon those sacred commandments, had chastened and humanized the people. Those tendencies which, whilst England was elate with success, and when she gloried in a suppressed rebellion, raised the Duke of Cumberland to a hero;—and, when reflection came, sank him to a brute; were manifested in the dawn of youth. In after years, (what extreme of odium could be greater?)—even children instinctively feared him. One day, when playing with his nephew, afterwards George the Third, a child, the Duke drew a sword to amuse him. The incident occurred long after the mouldering bones upon the field of Culloden were whitened in the sun; long after the brave Balmerino had suffered, and vengeance had revelled in the doom of the beloved Kilmarnock. But the sins of the remorseless Cumberland cried to Heaven. They were registered in the mind of a child. The boy turned pale and trembled, and acknowledged that he thought his "uncle Cumberland was going to kill him." The Duke shocked and deeply hurt, referred to popular prejudice the impression which was the result of crime.
Imperious, aspiring, independent, the grasping and able intellect of the Duke soon imbibed a knowledge of affairs beyond his years. When scarcely out of the nursery he loved the council chamber, and delighted in the recitals of foreign wars. As he reached manhood, he affected a lofty and philosophical coldness; a dangerous attribute in youth, and one which either springs from a frigid disposition, or else infallibly contracts the heart. But, in the case of the Duke of Cumberland, it concealed a proud and selfish spirit, which could ill brook the superiority of his elder brother, Frederic, Prince of Wales, or bear with temper the popularity of another. When, in after years, his brother's death was communicated to him, those jealous and disdainful feelings broke forth. "It is a great blow to the country," he said, sarcastically; "but I hope, in time, it will recover it." That want of faith in human nature, of reverence for good motives, that absence of a generous confidence which one can suppose strongly characterise the lost angels, were among the many odious features in the character of this truly bad man. The prevailing feeling of his mind was, contempt for everything and everybody;—a contempt for renown;—a contempt, in after life, for politics, which he conceived were below his attention; a contempt for women, whom he lowered by a sort of preference consistent with the rest of his coarse character, but whose modest virtues he mistrusted. With this affectation of superiority, the Duke combined the littleness of envy. When he had attained the height of his popularity, his satisfaction was tarnished by the reputation of Admiral Vernon, who was the idol of the public. As a General, his acknowledged and eminent qualities were sullied by the German puerilities of an exact attention to military trifles; any deficiency in etiquette was punished like a crime: the formation of a new pattern of spatterdashes was treated as an important event. Nor was this all. He introduced into an army of Englishmen the German notions of military severity; he fostered a system which it has taken nearly a century of great efforts, and good works in the humane, to annul. "He was," says Horace Walpole, "a Draco in legislation;" adding, "that in the Duke's amended mutiny bill the word 'Death' occurred at every clause."[111]—Such is the general colouring of his public character. A strong and sensitive feeling with regard to the national honour; a devoted reverence for the sovereign authority; which were the only principles and institutions which he seemed to respect, are the milder traits. In private, he countenanced, by his own practice, most of those vices which scarcely existed with greater impunity, or with less inconvenience from public opinion, in the days of Charles the Second, than in those in which Cumberland flourished, and left a finished model of a character without one redeeming excellence.
As a soldier, however, the merits of the Duke, if merits those can be called which were the natural effects of animal courage, and of a strong, remorseless mind, must be, at all events, acknowledged. He behaved with great gallantry in his first campaign with his royal father, and was wounded at the battle of Dettingen. At too early an age, in 1744, he was placed at the head of a great army, in order to oppose Marshal Saxe; and the event of the battle of Fontenoy proved the error. But, in that engagement, the valour of the young General was admitted on all hands. "His Royal Highness," relates the author of "The Conduct of the Officers at Fontenoy considered," "was everywhere, and could not without being on the spot have cheered that Highlander who with his broad sword killed nine men, and making a stroke at the tenth, had his arm shot off,—by a promise of something better than the arm which he, the Duke, saw drop from him."[112]