crowns in gold ingots, sent by the king of Spain; but after having been tossed about a good while on the sea, the vessel in which they went was wrecked on the coast of Scotland; the ingots were lost, and they escaped only with their lives. Urged, therefore, by Mar and the Highlanders, and not able to induce Berwick to undertake the command, the pretender at length set sail from Dunkirk in a small vessel, attended by only six French gentlemen, and landed at Peterhead on the 22nd of December.
He sent back the vessel with letters to Bolingbroke, containing the news of his safe arrival, and the assurance that he heard the best of news. He immediately proceeded to Aberdeen, accompanied by the marquis of Tynemouth, Berwick's son, and his other little group of attendants, and thence to Fetteresso, a seat of the earl marshal, his youthful partisan. Thither Mar hastened, accompanied by the earl marshal, general Hamilton, and about thirty others of the leaders of the insurrection, to welcome him. To these zealous adherents the sight of the heir of their long line of kings, thus coming almost alone to the kingdom of his ancestors to reclaim his throne, must have been deeply affecting. There was a joyful and most cordial meeting betwixt the prince and his subjects. He thanked Mar for his faithful defence of his rights, and created him a duke on the spot. The whole company set out on the 30th for the army, and slept on the 4th of January, 1716, at Glammis Castle, the noble feudal residence of the earls of Strathmore, the last young possessor of which had just before fallen in the pretender's cause at Sheriffmuir.
On the 6th he made his public entry into Dundee, at the head of his cavalcade, the earl of Mar riding on his right hand, and the earl marshal on his left, and about three hundred gentlemen following. His reception by the people was enthusiastic, who flocked round him to kiss his hands; and to gratify this loyal desire he remained an hour in the market place. On the 8th he arrived at Scone, and took up his residence in the ancient palace of his ancestors. There he was only two miles from the army, and having established a council, and issued six proclamations, ordered a public thanksgiving for the "miraculous providence" of his safe arrival, for prayers in the church, for the currency of foreign coin, for a meeting of the convention of estates, for all fencible men from sixteen to sixty to repair to his standard, and for his coronation on the 23rd of January, he presented himself before the army. But here the scene was changed. Instead of enthusiasm there was disappointment — disappointment on both sides. The soldiers, who expected to see a royal-looking, active-looking man, likely to encourage them and lead them on their career, beheld a tall, thin, pale, and dejected sort of person, who evidently took no great interest in them. They expected to see him come with a brilliant staff of officers, if not with an army; but he came only with some half-dozen undistinguished foreigners. They knew their own insignificant numbers, and were struck with consternation. The fields of Sheriffmuir and Preston had taught them that to succeed they must be numerous, powerful, and led on by different men from Mar, or a dull, indifferent person like this.
That the pretender should not exhibit much vivacity was no wonder. He had been assured by Mar that his army had swelled to sixteen thousand men, and had the whole north in his favour; that he had only to appear to carry everything before him. On inquiring into the force, it turned out to be so miserably small, that the only desire was to keep it out of sight. The spirits of the pretender fell, and though not destitute of ability, as is manifest by his letters remaining, he had by no means that strength of resolution demanded by such an enterprise. His despair of the undertaking was visible to every one, and, like his father, he took no pains to awaken the enthusiasm of his adherents, by conceding to them such guarantees and securities as they demanded. The tories of the Irish episcopalian church demanded the same security for their church as it had in England; but he refused it, and even the promise of support of the Anglican church was ambiguous, and by no means assuring. His blindest followers could scarcely avoid seeing that he wanted only once to be secure on the throne to commit all the bigoted follies of his father and his race. What the soldiers thought of him we have well described by one of them in a "True Account of the Proceedings at Perth by a Rebel." "His person," he .says, "was tall and thin, seeming to inclining to be lean rather than to fill as he grows in years. His countenance was pale, yet he seems to be sanguine in his constitution, and has something of a vivacity in his eye that perhaps would have been more visible if he had not been under dejected circumstances, and surrounded with discouragements, which, it must be acknowledged, were sufficient to alter the complexion of his soul as well as of his body. His speech was grave, and not very clearly expressing his thoughts, nor overmuch to the purpose, but his words were few, and his behaviour and temper seemed always composed. What he was in his diversions we knew not—there was no room for such things. I must not conceal, that when we saw the man whom they called our king, we found ourselves not at all animated by his presence, and if he was disappointed in us, we were tenfold more so in him. We saw nothing in him that looked like spirit. He never appeared with cheerfulness and vigour to animate us. Our men began to despise him: some asked if he could speak. His countenance looked extremely heavy. He cared not to come abroad amongst us poor soldiers, or to see us handle our arms, or do our exercise. Some said, the circumstances he found us in dejected him. I am sure the figure he made dejected us; and had he sent us but five thousand of good troops, and never himself come amongst us, we had done other things than we have now done."
If the pretender's demeanour had a discouraging effect, his language had still greater. Instead of prognosticating happy events, he dwelt only on pictures of ruin. Instead of assuring his followers that he had the utmost confidence in them, he seemed to anticipate defection. "Let those who forget their duty," he said, in addressing his council, "and are negligent of their own good, be answerable for the worst that may happen. For me, it will be no new thing if I am unfortunate. My whole life, even from my cradle, has shown a constant series of misfortunes, and I am prepared, if it so please God, to suffer the threats of my enemies and yours."
This was not the language to rouse the spirits of men
