Bonnie Prince Charlie: A Biography (15 page)

That he would take George Kelly and O'Sullivan was certain, for their experience and military expertise would be greatly needed. Sheridan, he decided, would come along as well, despite his frailty. The banker Aeneas MacDonald, who happened to have business in Scotland and who had useful clan connections in the Highlands, would also accompany the expedition. Another old soldier, John MacDonnell, was included, presumably because having spent many years serving in the Spanish cavalry he could be expected to help command whatever mounted men came to Charles's aid. And there were two others, both of whom could be expected to be liabilities. The first was Francis Strickland, an Englishman who had held various posts in James's household in Rome, including that of tutor to James's sons, but who after a falling out with James had come to Paris, (''I have no scruple to say he is an ill man," James told Charles about Strickland, "and conjure of you to forget if possible whatever he may have said to you on any subject.")
¹³
The second was the Marquess of Tullibardine, yet another semi-invalid who was nearly sixty and could barely walk without an attendant on either side to help him. Charles had been afraid that Tullibardine would find out what was going on and could not be trusted to keep what he knew to himself; "for the sake of secrecy," he told Murray, he intended to take the old man along.

Besides these seven ill-assorted traveling companions Charles took a chaplain, the Abbé Butler, Aeneas MacDonald's clerk Duncan Buchanan, who had served as a useful courier in the recent past, and his own Italian valet Michele Vezzosi, who had made a dramatic escape from Scotland nearly thirty years earlier. A Barra man, Donald Cameron, came along as pilot. Antoine Walsh commanded the
Du Teillay
, while one Captain d'Eau was to command the
Elisabeth
.

Charles and the others converged on Nantes, traveling separately to avert suspicion. Charles had been staying at the château of the Due de Bouillon at Evreux in Normandy, and when he left the château he hid his real destination by saying that he was going on a brief tour of the Norman countryside. On the way to Nantes he assumed yet another incognito, as Mr. Douglas, a student at the Scots College in Paris. Dressed in the plain cloth of a student, with a cheap wig and an unshaven chin, he looked innocuous. Sheridan posed as his father. No doubt Walsh made the arrangements for all the travelers in Nantes. There they waited while contrary winds delayed them until at last the
Du Teillay
was ready to sail, and Charles and the others went on board. They sailed to Belle-Isle and there waited a week, taking on provisions, for the
Elisabeth
to join them from Brest. On July 15 she appeared, and on the morning of the sixteenth both ships set sail for Scotland.* [*Once they were at sea, they adjusted their time reckoning from the New Style Gregorian calendar in use on the continent to the Old Style then still in use in England; Old Style dates, in the eighteenth century, lagged behind New Style dates by eleven days. Thus July 16 became July 5.]

The voyage began uneventfully. The trim little frigate made good speed toward the Cornish coast, the gunship staying within sight. Only Charles and the few who were in his confidence knew the purpose of the expedition. The seamen and soldiers were told nothing, they knew only that France was at war with England and that they had to remain alert for English ships. As for the little cluster of passengers aboard the
Du Teillay
, they appeared to be just an ordinary group of travelers, thrown together by the chance of a common destination—two elderly men and the student son of one of them, three Irish soldiers, a down-at-heels English gentleman, and a Scots man of affairs.

The July sun was hot. The ships rode the Channel swells, out of sight of land, adrift in the monotony of the vast green water. The tall blond student, Mr. Douglas, was probably tempted to shoot at the sea birds that followed the
Du Teillay
but, having learned prudence, restrained himself. It did not suit the persona of a sober scholar of humble birth to recreate himself in the manner of a sporting young lord. In any case the mild rolling of the ship made him unwell, and most likely he kept to his cabin much of the time.

"We have nothing to do now but to hope in the Almighty's favoring us," he had written to his father just before embarking. God was with them, of that he felt certain. Through his father he had asked for the pope's blessing; Catholic Europe wished him well. There were thousands in Scotland and England, both Catholic and Protestant, who would welcome his arrival. He was bringing his own arms and the strong core of a fighting force with him. His uniformed guard, the hundreds of soldiers Walsh had hired, the chests of swords and muskets, the cannon—all would allow him to establish a beachhead and then begin seizing strongholds, one by one. The Highland Scots would join him and then, once King Louis saw how he was prospering, there would be French troops to swell the Stuart ranks. The army would grow, would surmount opposition, would be invincible.

About a week out from Belle-Isle, just at dusk, the crew of the
Du Teillay
sighted a shadowy vessel in the distance. They were about a hundred miles off the Lizard, on their way to round Cornwall and sail up the west coast of Ireland. The phantom ship drew closer, then withdrew out of sight. The next morning she appeared again, and this time came close enough to be recognized as the
H.M.S. Lyon
, carrying fifty-eight guns. The
Lyon
, newly refitted, was en route from Spithead to duty in the Bay of Biscay, and it was evident that she was swifter and more maneuverable than the larger
Elisabeth
.

Captain d'Eau and his officers went aboard the
Du Teillay
to confer with Walsh. The French captain was convinced that the
Lyon
was not alone. They should engage her now, he said, before her companion vessels appeared. The
Du Teillay
could draw her in, then the
Elisabeth
could close with her while both fired on her. These were sound, if obvious, tactics yet Walsh would not agree. He did not dare to take any chances with his royal passenger. There would be no engagement unless the
Lyon
attacked.

Drawing his sword. Captain d'Eau returned to the
Elisabeth
with his officers. The
Lyon
was coming closer. D'Eau ordered his gunners into position and hoisted French colors as the
Du Teillay
moved off to the west, out of range of the action. The
Lyon
came on until, at d'Eau's command, the
Elisabeth
fired a single gun. There was an answering shot. Then, obedient to Walsh's command, d'Eau made sail and attempted to outrun the British ship. But the
Lyon
was intent on combat, her captain ordering her longboat cut away to increase her speed.

By this time it was late afternoon. As the
Lyon
came alongside, the
Elisabeth
fired her sixty-four guns, breaching the
Lyon
's hull, and received damaging fire in return. Thick black smoke surrounded the two ships, making it hard for the gunners to sight their targets, but they kept up their murderous fire. The French shot away the
Lyon
's mizzen mast and tore her sails to ribbons; her rigging hung crazily. Yet she managed to cut ahead of the
Elisabeth
and rake her across the bows, inflicting heavy casualties on her crew and putting her in danger of sinking.

So evenly matched were the two vessels that they fought on, hour after hour, with the men of the
Du Teillay
watching and dodging wayward shot. Charles became agitated. Why couldn't the
Du Teillay
's guns be fired on the
Lyon
to save the
Elisabeth
? Walsh refused, and kept his ship at a safe distance. Charles must hold his peace or be confined to his cabin.

Through the gray twilight the bursts of orange fire continued, less frequently now, the embattled ships only a few hundred yards apart. Both were taking on water. Aboard the
Elisabeth
more than two hundred men were killed or seriously wounded, and the
Lyon
’s crew was decimated as well. In the last exchange of fire, Captain d'Eau fell.

At about ten o'clock the
Lyon
, barely seaworthy, sheered off 'like an old tub," and the
Elisabeth
, listing and leaking, was unable to pursue her. The
Elisabeth
had no choice but to try to return to Brest. Walsh decided not to accompany her in the
Du Teillay
. As the last light faded Charles was forced to watch the great French gunship wallow off into the darkness, taking with her most of the men, arms, and provisions with which he had hoped to conquer England.

Chapter 9

Unescorted, her sails smoke-blackened and pitted by cannon shot, the
Du Teillay
crept northward up the coast. Crew and passengers alike were aware that should another English gunship appear the little frigate would have to surrender, and each time sails were sighted on the horizon they tensed and prayed for deliverance.

Day after day the odds grew greater that they would encounter an English patrol, and face capture. Even if their luck held and they managed to make a safe landfall in Scotland, they had next to nothing with which to make a rebellion. The hundreds of hired mercenaries, the uniformed guard, the cannon, the stores of arms and provisions: all were gone. Except for the
Du Teillay
herself, and the chests of gold
louis d'or
, there was nothing to prove that Charles had the backing of the French—and without this the Scots could not be expected to be sanguine about his chances for success. The fifteen hundred guns and eighteen hundred broadswords the
Du Teillay
carried would not go far in any case, even if a respectable number of Scots presented themselves to fight for Charles.

Arguments broke out over whether to persist in the expedition or give it up and return to France. Charles, still disguised as a divinity student, his true identity and the purpose of his journey kept secret from the crew, was staunch for going on. In his sea chest was the declaration of regency his father had sent him when he left Italy for France.

"It will be absolutely impossible for Us to be in Person at the first setting up of our Royal Standard," James's declaration read. Because of this he designated "Our dearest son, Charles, Prince of Wales, to be sole Regent of Our Kingdoms of England, Scotland and Ireland, and of all Our other Dominions, during Our Absence." The document was dated "in the forty-third year of Our Reign."

If James were ever to reign in fact as well as in imagination, then his son dared not turn back. Not when it had cost him such trouble and expense to come this far. Not when he had raised such expectations in his supporters. Before leaving Paris he had received from these supporters a leather-covered shield embossed in silver with images of crossed swords, standards and a Medusa head. He would carry this into battle when he led his faithful Highlanders against the British army. Providence would protect him, he believed, and aid his cause.

About ten days after the fight with the
Lyon
, the
Du Teillay
approached the remote island of Barra in the Outer Hebrides. The weather was foul. A storm was whipping the waves to froth, the winds were high and the rain heavy. A party was sent out in a longboat, but while the others were waiting for their return, a British man-of-war was sighted and Captain Walsh decided to put Charles and his party ashore out of harm's way. With the man-of-war following closely, a local pilot guided the frigate to a shallow, sheltered bay on the smaller island of Eriskay. There, on "a very wet dirty night," they disembarked and set about looking for shelter.

They found it in a crude hut about a mile from the beach, where they huddled in their wet clothes around a smoky peat fire and attempted to roast some flounders for their evening meal. Charles sat in a corner, laughing at the Barra man, Duncan Cameron, when he burned the fish, ebullient despite the storm and the general danger in which he found himself. The dense smoke in the room irritated him, so that he got up frequently and went outside into the storm for fresh air. But it was not only the smoke that drove him to get up and sit down again a dozen times. He was restless with excitement, sanguine about what lay ahead for him. When on the following morning he received word that several of the local clan chiefs would not support him, in spite of their previous assurances to the contrary, he was undaunted. He listened while Alexander Macdonald of Boisdale insisted that no one would join him, and advised him to return home.

"I am come home, sir," he replied gravely, ''and I will entertain no notion at all of returning to that place from whence I came, for that I am persuaded my faithful Highlanders will stand by me."

Charles repeated his sentiments to his companions aboard the
Du Teillay
—who were all in favor of going back to France—and added that "he would rather die" than turn back simply because Boisdale and a few others had disappointed him. He had friends remaining who would come to join him, he said. Their loyalty would be shown beyond question, once they reached the mainland.

This was problematical, as the warship they had sighted the day before was still cruising near them, though the bad weather prevented her from attempting to close with the
Du Teillay
. At sunset she was still in view, but when night fell the
Du Teillay
got under sail and made for the Scottish coast.
¹

In the morning the islands of Rum and Eigg were in view, and beyond them the rugged coastline, mountainous and desolate, penetrated by deep sea lochs. There was no sign of the man-of-war. Captain Walsh sailed up Loch nan Uamh, which divides Arisaig from Moidart, and anchored there.

No part of the Scottish Highlands was more remote than this. The steep rock faces of the mountains were forbidding, the stormswept coast a challenge to even the most experienced sailors. Few tracks wound through this inhospitable country, whose inhabitants were famous for their loyalty to the Stuarts and their bitter opposition to the government.