After the death, in January 1788, of Prince Charles Edward, whose brother the cardinal could leave no lawful descendant, the Scottish bishops felt they could conscientiously recognise the Hanoverian government, and therefore issued an intimation to the clergy and laity of their church, announcing that they had “unanimously agreed to comply with and submit to the present government of this kingdom, as vested in the person of his Majesty King George the Third.” They also resolved “to testify this compliance by uniformly praying for him by name in their public worship, in hopes of removing all suspicion of disaffection, and of obtaining relief from those penal laws under which this church has so long suffered.”[1380]
The forfeited estates were annexed to the Crown, and placed in the hands of the court of exchequer, who appointed commissioners to apply their produce to the improvement of the Highlands. In course of time, as will be seen in the history of the clans, government wisely restored to most of the unfortunate families the estates foolishly thrown away by their representatives in 1745.
The effect of all the measures above referred to was, of course, immediately to annul all possibility of further active resistance, although, no doubt, they tended to intensify and perpetuate Jacobitism as a sentiment, and change into a sort of living reverence or worship the feeling of loyalty towards Prince Charles which had animated most of the Highland chiefs and incited them to rebellion. The idea of endeavouring to repeat the experiment of ’45 seems not to have been entirely abandoned by some of the more obstinate Jacobites even up to the time of Charles’s death, although after the accession of George III.,—in whose reign the stringent measures adopted after 1745 were gradually relaxed, and efforts made for the improvement of the Highlanders,—the embodiment of many Highland regiments, the gradual dissolution practically of the old relation between the chief and his clan consequent on the abolition of the heritable jurisdictions, and the general progress of the country, Jacobitism became, as we have said above, a matter of mere sentiment, a feeling of tenderness almost akin to love, often finding expression in song in the melting language of the tender passion. Prince Charles was known to most of the Jacobites both in the Highlands and elsewhere only from the brief episode of 1745–6, in which he played the chief part, and in which he appeared to them as the handsome, brave, chivalrous, youthful, fair-haired, warm-hearted heir, come to recover that inheritance from which he was most unjustly excluded by a cruel usurper. His latter degraded life most of them knew nothing of, and even if they had been told of it, they most probably would have regarded the tale as a vile calumny; their love for “Bonnie Prince Charlie” was blind as the love of an impetuous youth for his first mistress, and they would allow no flaw to mar the beauty of that image which they tenderly cherished in their heart of hearts. This sentimental Jacobitism, as we have said already, prevailed extensively among all classes of society for very many years after all idea of actively asserting it had died out of the land.[1381] These Jacobites, who were generally of a somewhat social turn, in their private meetings, gave expression to their feelings in various ways, known only to themselves; indeed, there appears to have been a sort of freemasonry tacitly established among them, having signs, and words, and customs unknown to the great outside Whig world. One of their favourite methods, for example, of toasting Prince Charles at their feasts, was to drink to the health of “the king,” at the same time passing the glass in their hands over the water-bottle, to signify that they meant not King George, but him “over the water.”
What more than anything else, perhaps, tended to nourish and keep this feeling alive was the great body of song which was born of Jacobitism, and which dates from the time of Charles I. down almost to the present day. These songs are of all kinds, tender, humorous, pathetic, sarcastic, indignant, heroic, and many of them cannot be matched as expressions of the particular feelings to which they are meant to give utterance. The strength and character of the Jacobitic feeling can be well ascertained by a study of these songs, of which we believe there are some hundreds, many of them of high merit, and some, as we have said, not to be matched by the songs of any country. Indeed, altogether, this outburst of song is one of the most remarkable phenomena connected with Scottish Jacobitism, for most of them are Scotch both in language and authorship, and most of the tunes borrowed or adapted from the Gaelic, which has furnished to Scotland some of its richest song music. These songs not only show the intensity of the loyalty of the Jacobites towards the Stuart family, and their hatred of the reigning dynasty and of all Whigs, but also show that all along they had felt themselves to be the weaker party, unable to show their loyalty by their deeds, and compelled to let their energy escape in taunt and sarcasm. The Whigs have, indeed, a few, very few songs, which are artificial and cold, altogether devoid of the fire, the point, the perfect abandon, the touching tenderness, the thorough naturalness, which characterise those of their opponents. No one ever thinks of singing those Whig songs now-a-days; few know aught of them save industrious collectors.[1382] The Jacobite songs, on the other hand, both those which were written when Jacobitism was at its height, and those which are merely the outcome of modern sentiment, are, wherever Scotch songs are sought after and appreciated, scarcely less popular than the matchless love-songs in which the language must ever live. Who, when he hears some of these Jacobite gems sung, Protestant and Whig though he be to the core, is not for the nonce a Jacobite, ready to draw his sword if he had one, to “Wha wadna fight for Charlie;” feel delighted at the defeat of the Whig gudeman in “Hame cam’ our gudeman at e’en;” or shed a tear to the mournful verse of “Wae’s me for Prince Charlie?” With such a powerful instrument in their hands as this body of song, not only evidencing the intensity of the sentiment, but so well calculated to touch the feelings, excite the tenderness, and rouse the indignation of all who were capable of being influenced by music, it seems surprising that Jacobitism, as a principle of action, was not more prevalent even than it was, and did not, inspired by these songs, accomplish greater things. But the very fact that there were so many songs, may account for this lack of important deeds. The muses, Burns has said, are all Jacobites, and it would seem at any rate that all the best song writers of the country had enlisted on the unfortunate side; and it will be found, on the other hand, in scanning the account of the last rebellion, that those who joined in it were little given to forethought or to weighing the consequences of their actions, little able to regulate or lead any great enterprise, but influenced chiefly by imagination and impulse. There were, indeed, one or two superior to all the others in calibre, foresight, and aptitude to command, but these had little chance of being attended to when their power was not absolute among so many harebrained, thoughtless adventurers. In 1745, had there been at the head of the rebels one thoroughly able, experienced, iron-willed, thoughtful general, who had absolute command of the whole expedition, matters might have turned out very differently, especially when in these songs he had instruments far more powerful to incite than any threats or promises of reward. It is far from us to say that the bravery of the Jacobites evaporated in a song: their whole history would give such a statement the lie; but we think had there been less singing and song-making and more attention to stratagem and dry military business and diplomacy generally, they would have been more likely ultimately to have placed their idol on the throne. However, as General Stewart well remarks, “when it is considered how many feel and how few reason,” the power of this popular poetry to stir up sympathy in behalf of the cause for which it was written will be easily understood.[1383]
The great majority of these songs are in the Scottish language, a few of them being translations from the Gaelic, but most of them original; the authors of very few of them are known, a feature which they have in common with many of the oldest and richest of our Scotch songs. Any one who may wish to form an idea of their merit and multitude will find the best of them collected in Hogg’s two volumes of Jacobite Relics.
Some of the finest of these songs are perhaps better known than any others in the language; many of them, however, are known only by name, and many of them known at all but to a very few. Among those generally known and now commonly adapted to non-Jacobite sentiments, we may mention “My ain country,” the song of the home-sick exile, “Here’s a health to them that’s awa’,” “Over the seas and far awa’,” “Will he no come back again,” “Charlie is my darling,”—of which there are an ancient and a modern set, the latter by James Hogg,—“Farewell to Glen Shalloch” (from the Gaelic), “Hey Johnnie Cope,” perhaps one of the most popular humorous songs in the language, “The wee wee German lairdie,” full of genuine Scotch humour and irritating sarcasm, “This is no my ain house,” “O’er the water to Charlie,” “Welcome royal Charlie,” and “The bonnie house o’ Airly,” as old as the days of Montrose and Argyll. One of the most touchingly pathetic and most popular of these old songs is the well-known “Will he no come back again,” and equally popular is that, perhaps, most heroic and stirring of them all, “Wha wadna fecht for Charlie.”
Not a few of the Jacobite songs, as we have said, are from the Gaelic, and, as might be expected, they display little of the humour, pawkiness, and rollicking sarcasm which characterise many of the Scotch songs; they mostly evince a spirit of sadness and pensiveness, some show a heroic determination to do or die in the cause of Charlie, while others are couched in the language of adoration and love. One of the most characteristic and most poetical of these Gaelic songs is Maclean’s Welcome, which we take the liberty of quoting here:—
“Come o’er the stream, Charlie, dear Charlie, brave Charlie,
Come o’er the stream, Charlie, and dine with Maclean;
And though you be weary, we’ll make your heart cheery,