Disgusted with the cold discussions on settlements and rent rolls, and disregarding maternal cautions, Lady Anne soon followed the dictates of her own heart. She married the young and handsome nobleman without her mother's consent, and a tardy sanction to the union was wrung from Lady Livingstone only when it was too late to withhold her approval.
The marriage was not, it was said by those who were disposed to scandalize the Earl of Kilmarnock, productive of happiness. The young Countess was possessed, indeed, of beauty, wit, and good sense: but her husband, if we may accredit the memoirs of his life, gave her much cause to complain of his conduct. They lived, however, as the same doubtful authority states, "if not happily, at least civilly together." Such is the statement of a contemporary writer; it must, however, be adopted with just as much allowance as we give to similar reports raised by party writers in the present day: and it will be shown[324] not to accord with the dying declarations of Lord Kilmarnock. "I leave behind," he wrote to his agent, "in Lady Kilmarnock, what is dearest to me."[325] Subsequently to his marriage, Lord Kilmarnock's necessities and the additional burden of a family induced him to apply to the English Government for a pension, founded, as it is probable, on his father's services to Government in 1715. But this statement, and the conditions upon which the bounty was given are left in obscurity. "Whether," says the anonymous biographer of Lord Kilmarnock, "my Lord Kilmarnock's pension was a ministerial bribe, or a royal bounty, is a question I cannot determine with any certainty; but I have reason to suspect the former, since few pensions, granted by a certain administration, that of Sir Robert Walpole, deserved the latter." The same writer truly observes, that little or no dependance is to be placed on that loyalty which wants the support of bribes and pensions. "The practice," he adds, "is too general, and a defection of this kind of men may be fatal to the state."[326] The pension, as it appears from Horace Walpole's letters, was taken from Lord Kilmarnock by Lord Wilmington. "Lord Kilmarnock," he writes to Sir Horace Mann, "is a Presbyterian, with four earldoms in view, but so poor since Lord Wilmington's stopping a pension that my father had given him, that he often wanted a dinner."[327]
In the last days of his existence the Earl, indeed, acknowledged that the state of his affairs was, in part, the reason of his defection from Government. He attributed it, (though, it must be stated, under the pressing arguments of a minister of religion who considered what he termed "rebellion" as the most heinous sin,) to the great and pressing difficulties into which he had brought himself, by extravagance and dissipation: and declared, according to the account of his spiritual guide, that the "exigency of his affairs was very pressing at the time of the rebellion; and that, besides the general hope he had of mending his fortune by the success of it, he was also tempted by another prospect, of retrieving his circumstances if he followed the Pretender's standard."[328]
Until the commencement of the insurrection of 1745, Lord Kilmarnock enjoyed the possession of Dean Castle, a very ancient edifice, situated about half a mile north east of the town of Kilmarnock, in Ayrshire. "It is," says Grose in his Antiquities of Scotland, "at a small distance from the main road leading from Kilmarnock to Stewarton, and consists of a large vaulted square tower, which seems to have been built about the beginning of the fifteenth century: this is surrounded by a court and other buildings more modern."[329] Such is the description of Dean Castle before the year 1735; when, to add to Lord Kilmarnock's other necessities, it was partially destroyed by fire, leaving only a ruin which he was too much impoverished even to restore to its former habitable state. In the "great square tower," referred to by Grose, and of which a view is preserved in his work on Scotland, the Boyd family had dwelt in the days of their greatness, when one of their race was created Earl of Arran. In that tower had the Earl imprisoned his royal wife, the Lady Margaret, sister of James the Third, who was divorced from him, pleading, as some say, a prior contract with the Lord Hamilton, to whom she was afterwards united, taking to him the Isle of Arran as her dower.
It does not appear that the Earl of Kilmarnock was originally in the confidence of the Jacobite party: and their designs were not only matured, but far in full operation before he took an open or active part in the Stuart cause. It happened, however, that when Charles Edward resided at Holyrood, the Countess of Kilmarnock was living in Edinburgh. Her beauty, and the gaiety of her manners, attracted the admiration of the young Prince, who bestowed no small portion of attention on the fascinating daughter of one of his father's adherents. Lady Kilmarnock was as much attached to pleasure as the young and beautiful usually are: she delighted in public diversions, and led the way to all parties of amusement. Her ambition, no less than her early prepossessions conspired, it is said, to make her a Jacobite; and she hoped, by the favour of Charles Edward, to obtain the restoration of her father's title. Her entreaties to the Earl of Kilmarnock to join the standard of the Prince were stimulated, therefore, by a double motive; and, indeed, to a generous and romantic mind, there required neither the inducements of ambition, nor of gratified vanity, to espouse that part which seemed most natural to the Scotch. After the battle of Preston Pans, Lady Kilmarnock's persuasions took effect: her husband presented himself to the young Chevalier, who received him with every mark of esteem and distinction, declared him a member of the privy council, raised him to the rank of a general, and appointed him colonel of his guards.[330]
Another occurrence is, however, stated to have had a considerable influence in forming the Earl's decision.
During the course of the conflict, he met, at Linlithgow, that incomparable man, and excellent officer, Colonel Gardiner. This individual, whose character forms so fine a relief to the party-spirited and debased condition of the British army in the time of George the Second, was a native of Linlithgowshire, having been born at Carriden, in the year of the Revolution, 1688. His life commencing in that important era, had been one of events. He had first entered the Dutch service; then had served in Marlborough's army at Ramilies. Until this incident of his life, the young soldier, then only nineteen, had run a course of dissolute pleasure, and had obtained, from the frankness and gaiety of his disposition, the name of the happy rake. Being in the Forlorn hope, he was wounded, and left in a state hovering between life and death, on the field, and in state of partial insensibility, from which he was aroused at times to perfect consciousness.
The ball which had struck Gardiner, had entered his mouth; and without breaking a single tooth, or touching the forepart of his tongue, had passed through his neck, coming out above an inch and a half on the left side of the vertebræ. He was abandoned by Marlborough's troops, who, according to their custom, left the wounded to their fate, while they pursued their advantages against the French.
In this state, the first serious emotions of gratitude, the first convictions of a peculiar Providence suggested themselves to the mind of the young officer: and although they did not, for some years, produce an absolute amendment of life, they laid the foundation of his future conversion, and of that exemplary piety and purity which extorted admiration even in a dissolute age. After being present at every battle that Marlborough had fought in Flanders, Colonel Gardiner had signalized his courage in the Insurrection of 1715; and in 1745 he was again ordered to the north to meet the Jacobite forces near Edinburgh.[331]
It was during this, his last campaign, when broken by ill health and premature age, for this brave and good man despaired of the restoration of peace to his country, that he supped in company with Lord Kilmarnock, at Linlithgow. Colonel Gardiner's prognostications had long been most gloomy. "I have heard him say," declared Dr. Doddridge, "many years before the Scottish Insurrection, that a few thousands might have a fair chance for marching from Edinburgh to London, uncontrolled, and throw the whole kingdom into an astonishment." This opinion was derived from his knowledge of the defenceless state of the country, and the general prevailing disaffection. And the pious, but somewhat distrustful views of Gardiner led him to assign yet more solemn reasons for his anticipations of evil. "For my own part, though I fear nothing for myself, my apprehensions for the public are very gloomy, considering the deplorable prevalency of almost all kinds of wickedness among us; the natural consequences of the contempt of the Gospel. I am daily offering up my prayers to God for this sinful land of ours, over which His judgments seem to be gathering; and my strength is sometimes so exhausted with those strong cries and tears, which I pour out before God upon this occasion, that I am hardly able to stand when I arise from my knees."[332]