When it comes to disliking historical figures, we are sometimes told that we should not judge them by the standards of our own time, but by those which existed in the period when they lived. This is all eyewash, in my opinion. No amount of mental time-travelling can dispel detestation of Hitler or Stalin. Some famous names from history, of course, are not so easily dismissed as "good" or "evil". One particular example of a man who does not, apparently, fit neatly into a black or white category is the young man pictured above: Charles Edward Louis John Casimir Sylvester Severino Maria Stuart, known to history as Bonnie Prince Charlie, (1720-1788).
For some reason, I could never take to the Young Pretender; he always struck me as being a slick operator, acting out of self-interest. I did not have much in the way of indisputable evidence (or so I thought) but I recently took an online course on Charlie and the 1745 uprising, which caused me to revisit the events of the rising, and Charlie's role in the affair.
The Prince is very much a divider of opinions when it comes to the views of historians, film-makers and the popular image that many people have of him. There is a pervasive romanticised image of him that began with Sir Walter Scott in his novel "Waverley" , which first promoted the idea of the prince as a romantic, dashing horseman who came to liberate the people of Scotland from English tyranny. This false image (he came to recapture the crown of the whole of Britain for his father, James the Third, "The Old Pretender") has persisted down the years. Two flattering films have been made about him, one in 1923 (now lost) and another in 1948, starring David Niven. A much less sympathetic (and far more accurate) presentation of Charlie is found in the film "Culloden", made in the 60s, by Peter Watkins, based on John Prebble's book of the same name. A new film about Charles and his escape from Scotland after Culloden, "The Great Getaway", which will star Mhairi Calvey and Jamie Bacon is being produced, but has hit funding problems.
The legend lives on, also, among historians. The Prince has many latter-day supporters among people I think should know better, but they don't. The historian Christopher Duffy, for instance, presents Charlie as being what I can only describe as a sort of aristocratic version of Che Guevara.
I'm afraid that I don't buy into this fantasy. There are many reasons for doubting it, and they're not too hard to find, either. Fortunately for sceptics like me, there are some historians who see through the tartan mist. One notable name here is that of Stuart Reid, whose book "1745: A Military History" is a refreshing alternative to the sentimental gush of other books on the Jacobite putsch. More recently, "Bonnie Prince Charlie: Truth or Lies" by Roderick Graham has given new information about what Charlie got up to after the failure of the '45. I am grateful to these authors for some valuable information and insights unavailable elsewhere.
Let's get down to brass tacks: the '45 was the latest in a series of attempts to regain the crown of Britain for the Stuart dynasty, booted out of power by a backstairs conspiracy and the Dutch Army in 1688. The Stuarts tried a number of times to regain the throne, most notably in 1715 and 1719. Britain was at war with France during most of this time, and the French military probably saw the Stuarts as a potential "Fifth Column" who could be useful in their efforts to knock Britain out of the war. The French were preparing to invade Britain in 1744, but abandoned the enterprise. Charlie, who was to participate in the invasion, was left standing.
He didn't stand around for long. With the help of a bunch of crooked Brittany ship owners and slave traders, and ignoring the plea of otherwise sympathetic Highland chiefs to stay away, he sailed for Scotland, landing at Eriskay in the Outer Hebridies, 23 July 1745. He then began his campaign (aka attempted coup d'état) to reclaim the British crown for the Stuarts, and the myth-making began at the same time. There is little point in detailing the whole campaign, which can be studied elsewhere, but some myths can be dealt with here.
1. Charlie was not welcomed by the whole of Scotland, still less the whole of the Highlands. Many clan chiefs declared against him, founding Independent Highland Companies. Even less warmly than that was he welcomed in England. The "invasion" of England was supposed to have ignited an uprising by English Jacobites. When this failed to materialise, the rebels wisely retreated from Derby on the 6th December, 1745.
2. Not all Jacobites were Roman Catholics, as many believed at the time, and many still believe. Among the Scottish Jacobite army commanders of the 1745 rebellion, James Drummond, Duke of Perth, and his brother Lord John Drummond, were both Scottish Catholics raised in France. But other commanders, such as Lieutenant-General Lord George Murray and the Life Guards commander David Wemyss, Lord Elcho, were Protestant.
3. Not all of Charlie's army were Scots. At Culloden, there were Irish Picquets, French troops and a number of English volunteers, some of whom had deserted from the royal army. There was even a "Manchester Regiment" of 200 men that the Prince left to garrison Carlisle when he invaded, and later fled, England. When the Prince arrived in Manchester, his recruits, drawn from Manchester's unemployed, ingenuously told him that they would have joined the first army to reach Manchester.
4. The "harrying of the glens", which followed Culloden, can largely be blamed upon the clan chiefs who wished to continue the Rising after the defeat at Culloden, and Charlie had done a bunk. As Stuart Reid says:
"In Badenoch and elsewhere in Scotland, the process of "pacification" was much more lenient in character and it is clear, therefore that much of the responsibility for the sufferings of their clansmen must be borne by Lochiel and the other chiefs, for wantonly attempting to prolong the rebellion".
5. The Prince's supporters stridently condemn the ill-treatment of Jacobite prisoners after Culloden. They do not mention the fact that royalist prisoners were equally badly treated in many places following capture. It is true that 120 Jacobite soldiers were executed and 936 transported to the American colonies or the West Indies (John Prebble, in his marvellous book "Culloden", says that many of their West Indian descendants came to Britain as part of the post-WW2 wave of immigration). What they don't mention is that 1.585 rebel prisoners were released, conditionally or otherwise. A further 700 are thought to have been "persuaded", by a variety of threats and incentives, to join King George's army.
6. The affection in which many Scots hold Charlie (many don't) is difficult to understand when you learn that after Culloden, Charlie was said to have asked after the welfare of Irish and French officers, but not the Scots. During the Prince's lengthy exile after fleeing Scotland, he is not on record as expressing any sympathy for the Scots who suffered for his ambition. As Firstfoot.com observes: "Charles' thanks for such unwavering loyalty and sacrifice was to blame his treacherous "mountaineers" for the failure of the rebellion until his dying day".
7. One key element in the maintenance of the Charlie legend is musical, in particular the beautiful "Skye Boat Song", which has been recorded by a wide variety of singers, including Tom Jones and Rod Stewart. It comes as a surprise to learn that it was written by an Englishman, Sir Harold Edwin Boulton (1859–1935) of Copped Hall, Totteridge, Hertfordshire, who first published the song in 1884.
8. Another much-loved song about the Prince is "Will ye no come back again?", written by Carolina Oliphant (Lady Nairne). Until recently, I was unaware that Charlie DID come back again. He slipped into England in 1750, and stayed long enough (six days) to convert to Anglicanism. He was also involved in what is known as The Elibank Plot, which was foiled by the timidity of the plotters and the fact that one of the chief plotters was a government spy. Undeterred, Charlie tried again in 1759 during the Seven Years War, when the French were planning an invasion of Britain. He met with, but failed to impress, the hardbitten French foreign minister, the Duc de Choiseul. Wikipedia says:
"Charles failed to make a good impression, being argumentative and idealistic in his expectations. Choiseul was planning a full-scale invasion of England, involving upwards of 100,000 men[16]—to which he hoped to add a number of Jacobites led by Charles. However, he was so little impressed with Charles, he dismissed the prospect of Jacobite assistance".
By 1759, Charlie was an alcoholic partial to (among other refreshments) Madeira wine, a taste for which he had acquired during the '45 (his soldiers drank water or beer at best). As he is reputed to have quaffed six bottles of wine a day, there is every chance that he was drunk at the meeting. Small wonder, then, that the Duc was unimpressed. When France signed a peace treaty with Britain, the Jacobite court, including Charlie, had to leave for Italy.
9. We can thank Roderick Graham for dispelling the other abiding myth about Charlie: that he was a handsome, chivalrous gallant who captured the hearts of young women with ease and returned their affections with courtly love - a "bold chevalier". This myth lives on in songs such as "Charlie is My Darlin'" and others. It is true that Charlie had a long-term Scots mistress who fled Scotland with him and bore him a daughter. He had many affairs post 1745 and, in 1772 at the age of 52, he married a 20-year old princess. The truth is, however, that Charlie was a wife beater with a grim history of violence against women. His Scots mistress, Clementina Walkinshaw, fled to a convent in 1760, leaving Charlie a letter saying that he should not be surprised:
"...when you consider the repeated bad treatment I met with these eight years past and the daily risk of losing my life".
The Prince seems to have regularly attacked all his mistresses, including a cousin of the Queen of France whom he beat up so badly that he was forcibly ejected from her lodgings. His abusive behaviour worsened when he married, inflicting regular beatings on his young wife and accusing her of being unfaithful. This culminated in a murder attempt on his wife on St Andrew's Night, 1780, when the servants had to rescue her from an attempt at strangulation. The marriage ended soon after.
Charlie died, an embittered alcoholic who blamed everyone but himself for his misfortunes, in Rome, January 31, 1788.
"Charles failed to make a good impression, being argumentative and idealistic in his expectations. Choiseul was planning a full-scale invasion of England, involving upwards of 100,000 men[16]—to which he hoped to add a number of Jacobites led by Charles. However, he was so little impressed with Charles, he dismissed the prospect of Jacobite assistance".
By 1759, Charlie was an alcoholic partial to (among other refreshments) Madeira wine, a taste for which he had acquired during the '45 (his soldiers drank water or beer at best). As he is reputed to have quaffed six bottles of wine a day, there is every chance that he was drunk at the meeting. Small wonder, then, that the Duc was unimpressed. When France signed a peace treaty with Britain, the Jacobite court, including Charlie, had to leave for Italy.
9. We can thank Roderick Graham for dispelling the other abiding myth about Charlie: that he was a handsome, chivalrous gallant who captured the hearts of young women with ease and returned their affections with courtly love - a "bold chevalier". This myth lives on in songs such as "Charlie is My Darlin'" and others. It is true that Charlie had a long-term Scots mistress who fled Scotland with him and bore him a daughter. He had many affairs post 1745 and, in 1772 at the age of 52, he married a 20-year old princess. The truth is, however, that Charlie was a wife beater with a grim history of violence against women. His Scots mistress, Clementina Walkinshaw, fled to a convent in 1760, leaving Charlie a letter saying that he should not be surprised:
"...when you consider the repeated bad treatment I met with these eight years past and the daily risk of losing my life".
The Prince seems to have regularly attacked all his mistresses, including a cousin of the Queen of France whom he beat up so badly that he was forcibly ejected from her lodgings. His abusive behaviour worsened when he married, inflicting regular beatings on his young wife and accusing her of being unfaithful. This culminated in a murder attempt on his wife on St Andrew's Night, 1780, when the servants had to rescue her from an attempt at strangulation. The marriage ended soon after.
Charlie died, an embittered alcoholic who blamed everyone but himself for his misfortunes, in Rome, January 31, 1788.
In conclusion, this is my view of the Prince: he was an egotistical, irresponsible adventurer who cared nothing for the lives and welfare of either his supporters, lovers or opponents. Thousands of ordinary men and women suffered exile, torture, wounding and death because of him, and the blame for their misery can be laid fairly and squarely at his door. As Brecht says:
"When the house of a great one falls, many little ones also perish".
Instead of the sentimental ballads sung about him, I prefer this great shout of condemnation: "Bloody Charlie". Please click on the link and decide for yourself.
Not-so-Bonnie Charlie in old age.
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