Preston Fight: or, The Insurrection of 1715

Charles Radclyffe, his only brother, and his junior by a year and a half, resided with him at Dilston. There was a great personal resemblance between them. Like his brother, Charles Radclyffe was an enthusiastic Jacobite, and ready to run any risk for the restoration of the Stuarts.

Viscount Radclyffe and Langley, as the Earl of Derwentwater was styled in his father’s lifetime, had been brought up at the court of the exiled monarch, James the Second, at Saint Germains, as a companion to the young prince, James Edward, who was about his own age, and to whom he was nearly allied by consanguinity – Lord Radclyffe’s mother being a natural daughter of Charles the Second.

Constantly together, and sharing the same studies and the same sports, the cousins, as they were called, became greatly attached to each other, and no change had taken place in their sentiments when James the Second breathed his last, dying, as those in attendance on him avouched, in the odour of sanctity.

By the express desire of Queen Mary of Modena, Lord Radclyffe remained at Saint Germains until after the death of William the Third, and the accession of Anne, mixed up in the various Jacobite plots, of which that court was then the hot-bed, until the decease of his own father in 1705, compelled him to return to England, in order to take possession of his estates.

On his departure the young earl renewed his professions of loyalty and devotion to the Chevalier de Saint George, as the prince was now designated, and promised to hold himself in constant readiness for a summons to rise. He also took an affectionate leave of the queen, who embraced him like a mother, and gave him her blessing.

Five years flew by, during which an attempt at invasion was made by Chevalier de Saint George with a squadron under the command of the renowned Forbin, but the prince was unable to disembark, and consequently Lord Derwentwater was not called upon to join him.

Discouraged by this ill-success, and receiving no further support from Louis the Fourteenth, the prince joined the French army under Villars, and fought bravely at Malplaquet.

Ever since his return from Saint Germains Lord Derwentwater had resided at Dilston. He lacked a mother’s care, for the countess had long been dead, but he was watched over and counselled by Father Norham, an excellent man, who had been chaplain to the late earl. In anticipation of a sudden summons, Lord Derwentwater kept a large collection of arms concealed in the old tower previously described. He had plenty of horses in his stables and elsewhere, and with his servants and retainers, and the number of miners in his employ, he could at anytime raise two or three hundred men, and arm and equip them.

Until lately, a secret correspondence had been constantly kept up between the Earl and the Chevalier de Saint George, but for some months no letter had been received from the prince.

II. – THE CHEVALIER DE SAINT GEORGE

One morning, at this juncture, the young earl, mounted on his favourite dapple-grey steed, rode out from the castle, and took his way down the chestnut avenue, accompanied by his brother, Charles Radclyffe.

The two young equestrians made a very gallant appearance, being attired in scarlet riding-coats, edged with gold lace, feathered hats, long neckcloth, laced ruffles, and boots ascending above the knee. The grooms wore green riding-coats laced with gold, and green velvet caps.

The earl, who was riding to Corbridge, which was not very far off, proceeded at a leisurely pace, and occasionally halted to examine some object in the grounds, or listen to an appeal to his charity. In the latter case the applicant was sent on to the castle to state his case to Father Norham.

The morning was bright and clear, and the country looked so charming that the earl determined to extend his ride along the banks of the Tyne as soon as his business at Corbridge was finished; but he had not quitted the avenue when a horseman entered it, who was evidently proceeding to the castle.

This person might be a courier, for he rode a posthorse, and was followed by a post-boy, who carried his portmanteau; and there was nothing in his grey riding-dress to indicate rank. He had pistols in his girdle, and a hanger by his side. But he rode well, though provided only with a sorry hack, and had a military bearing. In age he could not be more than three-and-twenty, if so much. He was rather above the middle height, and slightly built, and his features were handsome and expressive.

On seeing the earl and his brother the stranger immediately slackened his pace, and rode slowly towards them.

Lord Derwentwater gazed at him in astonishment, and as if he could scarcely believe his eyes.

At length he turned to his brother and exclaimed:

“By Heaven, ‘tis he!”

“He! who?” cried Charles Radclyffe.

“The Chevalier de Saint George,” replied the earl, under his breath.

“Impossible!” said the other. “He would never come here in this manner, and without giving us some notice of his design.”

“‘Tis the prince, I repeat,” cried Derwentwater; “I cannot be mistaken. But the greatest caution must be observed, or the postboy’s suspicions may be aroused.”

Next moment the stranger came up, and respectfully saluting the earl, told him he was the bearer of an important despatch, whereupon Lord Derwentwater invited him to the castle, and turning round, proceeded in that direction, keeping the supposed courier near him, while Charles Radclyffe, who had now recognised the stranger from his likeness to the portraits of the prince, rode at a little distance behind them.

The meeting was so cleverly managed that the grooms saw nothing extraordinary in it, and the post-boy was completely duped.

“I never had a harder task than to repress my delight at beholding your majesty,” said Lord Derwentwater. “You have indeed taken me by surprise.”

“Had it been possible I would have given you some intimation of my arrival and intended visit to you,” replied the prince, “but I only landed at Sunderland yesterday, and came on betimes this morning. Do not imagine I am come to summon you to arms, though my partisans in Scotland are ready to rise, and would at once join my standard were I to display it. No, cousin, my errand is pacific.”

“Pacific!” exclaimed the earl.

“My purpose is to obtain an interview with my sister, Queen Anne; and if I succeed, I believe no insurrection will be necessary, for I am persuaded she will agree to appoint me her successor. You must accompany me to London, cousin.”

“I will do whatever your majesty enjoins,” replied Lord Derwentwater, greatly astonished by what he heard. “But it is my duty to tell you that you will run great risk, while I very much fear you will not accomplish your object. Did you consult the queen, your mother, before setting out on this expedition?”

“I did, cousin, and must frankly own that she endeavoured to dissuade me from the attempt; for, as you are aware, her majesty deems Anne an unnatural daughter, and destitute of all feeling for the brother whose throne she has usurped. It may be so. Yet, cold as she is, Anne cannot be insensible to the king, our father’s dying message, which I propose to deliver to her.”

“Nothing will move her, sire, depend upon it,” said the earl. “Queen Anne is so strongly opposed to the Roman Catholic religion, that unless your majesty will consent to change your faith she will turn a deaf ear to your entreaties.”

“We shall see,” replied the Chevalier de Saint George. “At all events, I shall have an answer from her own lips, and shall then know how to act. As I have just told you, the queen, my mother, strove to combat my determination; but, finding I was not to be shaken, she entreated me to take you with me. To this I readily agreed, as I knew I could rely on your devotion. I embarked at Dunquerque without a single attendant, and in this disguise, and landed yesterday at Sunderland.”

“And right glad I am to welcome your majesty to Dilston,” said the earl. “But let me implore you to change your plans, and instead of supplicating Queen Anne for the crown, that of right belongs to yourself, snatch it from her brow! Should you decide thus – and I believe it will be for the best – I will undertake, within a week, to raise a large force – while thousands will flock to your standard in Scotland. Your majesty will do well to weigh my proposal ere setting out on a hazardous expedition to London. Here you have a mansion you can call your own – servants you can command – friends at your disposal – and in a few days you will have an army. Be advised by me, my gracious liege, and abandon this wild scheme. Suffer me to get together your adherents. Let me send off messengers without delay to Lord Widdring-ton, Tom Errington, of Beaufront, John Shaftoe, Swinbourn, Charleton, Clavering, and others in the county, to collect all their retainers.”

“But they are unprepared,” remarked the prince.

“Pardon me, my liege. The friends I have named are always prepared, and the news that your majesty is here would rouse them all to come at once. I ought to have added to the list Jack Hall, of Otterburn, and Tom Forster, of Bamborough. They are High Church Tories, and will bring many others with them.”

“No doubt they would prove an important acquisition,” said the prince. “But I will not try to dethrone Anne till I have given her the chance of acting fairly towards me. I am very sanguine as to the result of my interview with her.”

“Heaven grant your majesty may not be disappointed!” rejoined Lord Derwentwater. “I will say no more. Whenever it shall please you to set out to London, I shall be ready to attend you.”

“I will remain here till to-morrow, cousin,” said the prince. “On some future occasion I hope to be your guest for a longer time; but though Dilston is a charming place, and I should like to see all its beauties, it must not detain me now.”

They were at the end of the avenue, but, before passing through the gateway, Lord Derwentwater said to the prince, “Your majesty had best dismount here, and get rid of the postboy.”

On this the prince sprang from his horse, while the gate-porter, by the earl’s directions, paid the postboy, and took the portmanteau from him.

Having received a handsome gratuity for himself, the man then departed with his horses in tolerably good humour, though aware of the earl’s hospitality he had hoped to be regaled in the servants’ hall.

“Meanwhile, Lord Derwentwater and his brother having alighted, the party walked across the great quadrangular court – the prince pausing occasionally to look around, and express his admiration.

“By my faith! cousin, you have a splendid house,” he cried. “‘Tis quite a palace.”

“Why not take possession of it, my liege?” replied Derwentwater.

“You tempt me greatly. But no! I must not be diverted from my purpose.”

They then ascended the magnificent flight of stone steps, and entered a spacious hall – the door being thrown open by a butler and several other servants in the earl’s rich livery.

“Little did I dream, when I set forth an hour ago, whom I should bring back as my guest,” observed Lord Derwentwater.

“You have often told me at Saint Germains how rejoiced you would be to see me here,” rejoined the prince; “and now you perceive I have taken you at your word. But you are very remiss, cousin – pray present your brother to me!”

The presentation then took place, but without any ceremony, on account of the servants, and the prince shook hands very heartily with Charles Radclyffe.