On the eighth of May, Mr. Radcliffe was arraigned at the Exchequer Bar, at Westminster, for High Treason: to this he pleaded not guilty. In a few days afterwards he was brought there again, and tried upon the indictment; he had no plea to offer in his defence, and was found guilty.
He soon afterwards was carried to Westminster, accompanied by eleven other prisoners, to receive sentence of death. They were conveyed in six coaches to the Court. As the coach in which Mr. Radcliffe was seated, drove into Fleet Street, it encountered the state carriage in which George the First, who was then going to Hanover for the first time since his accession, was driving. This obliged Mr. Radcliffe's coach to stop; and, perceiving that he was opposite to a distiller's shop, he called for a pint of aniseed, which he and a fellow-prisoner, with a servant of Newgate, drank, and then proceeded to Westminster.
Mr. Radcliffe was several times reprieved; and it was thought he might have been pardoned; but affrighted, perhaps, by his brother's fate, and probably weary of imprisonment, he now began to project a plan of escape, to which he was emboldened by the great success of several similar attempts. Greater vigilance was, indeed, resorted to in the prison, after the flight of Brigadier Mackintosh, who had knocked down the turnkey, and ran off through the streets: and all cloaks, riding-hoods, and arms, were prohibited being brought in by the visiters who came to visit the prisoners. It is amusing to hear, that a certain form of riding-hoods acquired, at this time, the name of a Nithsdale, in allusion to the escape of the Earl of Nithsdale.[408]
On the day appointed for Mr. Radcliffe's escape, the prisoners gave a grand entertainment in Newgate: this took place in a room called the Castle, in the higher part of the prison. Mr. Radcliffe, when the party were at the highest of their mirth, observing a little door open in the corner of the room, passed through it followed by thirteen of the prisoners; and succeeded in finding their way, unmolested, to the debtor's side, where the turnkey, not knowing them, and supposing them to be visiters to the prisoners, allowed them to pass on. Mr. Radcliffe was dressed in mourning, and had, according to his own subsequent account to a fellow prisoner in Newgate, a "brown tye-wig." In this way, without any disguise, but wearing his ordinary attire, did he escape, leaving within the prison walls, his friend, Basil Hamilton, nephew of the Duke of Hamilton, who, as it was deposed on his trial, was his chum, or companion, living with him in a room, the windows of which looked upon the garden of the College of Physicians. After remaining concealed for some time, Mr. Radcliffe took the first opportunity of getting a passage to France.[409] He lived, for many years, in Paris, in great poverty, tantalized with promises of assistance from the French Court, yet witnessing the ungenerous treatment of the Chevalier by that Court. His nephew, John Radcliffe, who was killed accidentally, assisted him with remittances in 1730 for some time, and James Stuart gave him a small pension: his difficulties and privations must have been considerable; yet they never lessened his ardour in the cause for which he had sacrificed every worldly advantage.
Either to amend his ruined fortunes, or to gratify a passion long unrequited, Mr. Radcliffe was resolved upon marriage. The object of his hopes was Charlotte Maria, Countess of Newburgh, the widow of Hugh, Lord Clifford of Chudleigh, and the mother of two daughters by that nobleman. This lady was about a year older than himself, being born in 1694. It is a tradition in the family of Lord Petre, the lineal descendant of James, Earl of Derwentwater, that Charles Radcliffe offered his hand twelve times to the Countess of Newburgh, and was as often refused. Wearied by his importunity, Lady Newburgh at last forbade him the house. But the daring character of Mr. Radcliffe, and his strong will, suggested an expedient, and he was resolved to obtain an interview. To compass this end, he actually descended into an apartment in which the Countess was sitting, through the chimney; and taking her by surprise, obtained her consent to an union. Of the truth of this curious courtship, there is tolerably good evidence, not only in the belief of the Petre family, but from a picture representing the fact, which is at Thorndon.[410] The nuptials took place at Brussels, in the church of the Virgin Mary, on the twenty-fourth of June, 1724,[411] and in 1726, James Bartholomew, who became, after the death of his mother, third Earl of Newburgh, was born at Vincennes.[412]
Lady Newburgh had every reason, as far as prudence could be allowed to dictate to the affections, for her reluctance to a marriage with Mr. Radcliffe. He was, at this time, an outlawed man, with a sentence of death passed upon him, and no hope could ever be revived of his regaining, even after the death of his nephew, the family honours and estates. Yet, in the ardour and fearlessness of Charles Radcliffe's character there must have been much to compensate for those circumstances, and to win the fancy of the young. There seems no reason to suppose that the union thus strangely formed was infelicitous; and indeed, from family documents, it is evident that the family so marked out by fate for sorrow, were happy in their mutual affection. Of the two daughters of Lady Newburgh's first marriage, Anna, the eldest, was married to the Count de Mahony, whose descendants, the Gustiniani might claim the title of Newburgh, were they not debarred by being born aliens. Another was Frances, who died unmarried. This lady is mentioned in a letter written by Charles Radcliffe, recently before his death, when he was confined to the Tower, with peculiar affection, as "that other tender mother of my dear children."[413]
In the year 1733, Mr. Radcliffe visited England, and resided several months in Pall Mall; yet the ministry did not consider it necessary to take any notice of his return, nor, probably, would they ever have concerned themselves on that subject, had not a second insurrection brought the unfortunate man into notice. In 1735, he again returned, and endeavoured by the mediation of friends to procure a pardon, but was unsuccessful in that attempt.[414]
Irritated, perhaps, by that refusal, and still passionately attached to the cause which he had espoused; undeterred by the execution of his brother, or by the sufferings of his friends, from mixing himself in the turmoils of a second contest, Charles Radcliffe, on the breaking out of the insurrection of 1745, again ventured his life on the hazard. He had no lands to lose, no estates to forfeit; but he had all to gain; for the death of his nephew made him the head of the unfortunate house of Radcliffe. After that event, he assumed the title of Earl of Derwentwater, and it was of course assigned to him at the court of St. Germains, and indeed always insisted upon by him; but the estates were alienated, and there appeared no hope under the present government of ever recovering those once enviable possessions. Under these circumstances, Mr. Radcliffe was naturally a likely object for the representations of the sanguine, or the intrigues of the designing to work upon; and in this temper of mind he met, in the year 1743, with John Murray of Broughton, at Paris, where that gentleman remained three weeks; and became intimately acquainted with Mr. Radcliffe, who is described among others, as a "wretched dependant on French pensions, with difficulty obtained, and accompanied with contempt in the payment."
While the fashionable world were diverting themselves with epigrams upon the Rebellion, a small expedition was fitted out, consisting of twenty French officers, and sixty Scotch and Irish, who embarked at Dunkirk on board the Esperance privateer; among these was Charles Radcliffe and his eldest son. At this time nothing was spoken of in London except the daring attempt in Scotland,—sometimes in derision,—sometimes in serious apprehension: "the Dowager Strafford," writes Horace Walpole (Sept. 1745), "has already written cards for my Lady Nithesdale, my Lady Tullebardine, the Duchess of Perth and Berwick, and twenty more revived peeresses, to invite them to play at whist, Monday three months: for your part, you will divert yourself with their old taffetys, and tarnished slippers, and their awkwardness the first day they go to Court in clean linen."[415] "I shall wonderfully dislike," observes the same writer, "being a loyal sufferer in a threadbare coat, and shivering in an attic chamber at Hanover, or reduced to teach Latin and English to the young princes at Copenhagen. Will you ever write to me in my garret at Herenhausen? I will give you a faithful account of all the promising speeches that Prince George and Prince Edward make whenever they have a new sword, and intend to reconquer England."
One of the first adverse circumstances that befel the Jacobites in 1745, was the capture of the vessel in which Mr. Radcliffe hoped to reach the shores of Scotland. It was taken during the month of November by the Sheerness man-of-war; and Mr. Radcliffe and his son were carried to London and imprisoned in the Tower.