Bonnie Prince Charlie: Charles Edward Stuart (Pimlico)

by McLynn, Frank

  Concomitant with this intensity between mother and son was a widening chasm between husband and wife. Even the normally humane James was finding Clementina’s permanent ill-health hard to bear. In September 1731 she complained of violent headaches. James did not put off his trip to Albano on that account, but set off without her, taking the two children.109 The queen’s status as a chronic invalid was now a fact of life in the Stuart household. Charles Edward could do no other than look on anguishedly as his mother wasted away. Clementina refused to change her ascetic way of life and spurned all medical advice. No amount of pleading could move her.110 By June 1734 dietary deficiencies had brought her to the brink of total collapse, ‘being scarce able to walk at all with the humour of the scurvy, and I am sorry to say I see little human hope of a perfect recovery, since her stomach will not bear strong remedies and that she will not do all she can and is requisite in her case’.111

  Clementina probably left Charles Edward with a confusing legacy. On the one hand, their early years together gave him the core of inner strength he always retained. On the other hand, the many and prolonged absences from her side after the age of five may well have led to feelings of despair and moods of aggression that seemed at times likely to overwhelm him. In extreme cases a child in such circumstances may increasingly withdraw its contact from the outside world. Yet it is clear that the prince progressively reached out towards it. The relationship with his mother was clearly an ambiguous one, at once debilitating and strengthening.

  There remained the prince’s younger brother Henry. Here a twofold consideration obtained. Henry was his father’s favourite, and had the usual problems of relating to a brother five years older. Moreover, he bade fair to outshine Charles Edward intellectually. An incident in January 1733 highlights the tension between the brothers. Dunbar had long noted what he described as the prince’s tendency to ‘bear hard’ on Henry. On one occasion Charles took his brother to task for spending all his time drawing coats of arms and heraldic insignia, alleging that this would impair any ability he had for creative design. Like a whiplash Henry retorted in French: ‘As long as it does not impair my ability to draw a sword for my father, I don’t care if I’m never a designer.’ The general consensus was that Henry could always think faster on his feet than his brother.112

  Such was the tight, oppressive world of the thirteen-year-old prince when Fate gave him the opportunity to appear in public on a larger stage.

  3

  The Prince over the Water

  (1734–7)

  THE YEAR 1734 began promisingly for the Stuarts. With the outbreak of the War of Polish Succession and the possibility that France might mount an expedition for the Jacobites, it seemed that the exiled dynasty night be emerging from the diplomatic desert it had been in since 1726, James appeared to have more money at his disposal and to be taken more seriously by the Powers.1 Charles Edward himself was crossing the invisible divide between childhood and adolescence.

  The dawning of a new period in the prince’s life seemed underlined by two pointers. On his thirteenth birthday a magnificent feast was prepared for him at the Palazzo Corsini. Several English lords paid public homage to him here; some even kissed hands.2 And in February 1734 Charles Edward went through the last of his childhood illnesses; the cutting of his last teeth gave his face a badly swollen appearance.3 As if sensing that the prince was on the threshold of a new and decisive period in his life, James commissioned the singing of a Mass at SS Apostoli every 31 January in perpetuity in honour of his eldest son.4

  The war between Spain and Austria – part of the general Polish Succession imbroglio – was creeping closer to the territory of the papal states. James was keen for his son to see something of the Spanish troops, and procured permission for them to view a body of carabineros on the march.5 But this was only the start of his ambitions. His heart was now set on sending Charles Edward to Paris. In the existing tension between France and England, it was felt that the British could not hope to stay neutral much longer. James had waived his previous fears that the French might be merely using the Jacobites.6 He felt confident enough in the prince’s physical stamina to subject him to the full meatless rigours of a Lenten fast.7

  The arrival of the duke of Liria in Rome at the end of March changed the king’s plans. Liria had been appointed (together with counts Montemar and Charny) to a tripartite command of the Spanish armies in Italy, whose aim was the conquest of the kingdom of Naples. But since Liria commanded the second division of the army, in which the Infanta Don Carlos was serving, in effect and by common consent Liria was the presiding genius of the Spanish army. Immediately on arrival in Rome Liria suggested that James should apply to the court at Madrid for permission for Charles Edward to serve with him.8 Liria had not forgotten the young prince who had so impressed him at the age of six and a half. Nothing he saw in Rome made him alter his high opinion of Charles Edward.

  Great military vistas opened up. Liria intended to besiege the cities of Gaeta and Capua, then, the conquest of the Neapolitan territories completed, to cross with the army to Sicily.9 Nevertheless, Liria cautioned James not to send the prince to the army until he had obtained Philip V’s formal permission.10

  James’s euphoria ebbed somewhat at this. He knew of old the tortuous protocol at the Spanish court and considered the prospect of a speedy reply unlikely.11 Liria departed for Naples, intending to lay siege to Gaeta first.12 Having taken this decision, he then realised that the operation might well be concluded by the time the permission came through from Madrid. Stressing that ‘this siege will be well worth seeing’, he fired off an express to James advising him to anticipate the expected favourable response from Spain.13 James, a stickler for protocol, insisted on waiting for the matter to be cleared through the usual channels.14 Contingency plans were laid. James and his son went to an audience with the Pope, where they were given 4,000 scudi as campaign expenses. Charles Edward went into serious training, galloping his horses daily in the Villa Barberini.15

  By 21 July James had given up all hope of getting the authorisation in time for it to be any use to his son. No sooner had he confided these thoughts to his favourite Inverness than, mirabile dictu, the permission arrived from Madrid.16 The stage was now set for Charles Edward’s first appearance in the world at large.

  Careful preparations were made for displaying the prince to the world. Long conferences were held with cardinals Rivera and Corsini; with the pretender to the Moroccan throne, also bound for Gaeta; and especially with the French ambassador the duc de St Aignan.17 The Pope, who had long had a soft spot for Charles Edward, was especially pleased with the turn of events. He granted his young favourite a plenary indulgence and an ample sum of money to cover his expenses. Clementina asked all the nuns in Rome to pray for her son’s success.18

  On 27 July the prince set out for Albano with a retinue of ten followers in five post-chaises. Headed by Dunbar, the party included a surgeon and a confessor. James joined them at Albano on the 29th. After a lavish dinner, the prince and party started south for Gaeta with the king’s blessing.19

  Charles Edward’s entourage proceeded slowly through Velletri and Mola, partly out of consideration for the sudden appearance of a sore toe that prevented the prince’s putting his shoes on.20 It was four days before they came close enough to Gaeta for Liria to go out and meet them. The prince was now in perfect health. Immediately he gave signs of the special charisma that was to serve him so well in later life. Liria took him to see the Infanta, always styled by the campaigning Spanish ‘the king of Naples’. At the Infanta’s palace all the honours due to a Prince of Wales were laid on but Charles, officially incognito, displayed good sense by asking the court chamberlain count Estemar to dispense with these.21

  When the Infanta arrived, the prince paid him a compliment with all the panache of a veteran courtier. In the ‘king’s’ rooms Charles Edward chatted with him with extrovert ease. This was not as easy as it sounded. Don Carlos was a notorious cold fish.
22

  Next morning Liria’s co-commander the count of Montemar took the prince aside and reiterated that the Spanish court was willing to treat him publicly as the Prince of Wales if that was his pleasure. Again Charles Edward asked merely for the treatment due a distinguished incognito.

  On Wednesday 4 August (together with Dunbar and Sheridan) he dined with the Infanta. Already the prince’s grace, wit and charm were making their mark. ‘Il est vif,il est charmant’ was the comment of the normally dour Don Carlos. He invited the prince to dine with him every day. Dunbar cunningly took aside the royal physician Buonnoni to learn things about the ‘king’ that Charles Edward might introduce into the conversation to his advantage.

  In the afternoon Liria conveyed Charles Edward to a house overlooking Gaeta bay, which was used by Don Carlos as a safe vantage point for viewing the siegeworks. The Infanta did not accompany them so as not to inhibit the prince. Since the siege of Gaeta was expected to be a protracted affair, the plan was that the prince would be taken down around 11 a.m. the next morning to inspect the Spanish batteries, at a time when the defenders usually did not fire on their oppressors because of the noonday heat.

  Then they returned to the prince’s own quarters. This was a house belonging to Cardinal Cibo that enjoyed a full prospect of Gaeta. From here the prince could see every shot or cannonball that was exchanged between the two sides.

  Meanwhile Dunbar and Liria plotted how they could extract the maximum propaganda advantage from the Prince’s presence at Gaeta. Since the Infanta Don Carlos cautiously refrained from entering the trenches of the besiegers, they had to be careful not to upstage him with Charles Edward’s exploits. For all that, Liria was determined that the prince should be seen in the trenches for, as he pointed out, Charles Edward had to impress his personality on the world, ‘having no fortune … but what he must gain by the point of his sword’. Liria reckoned that if the prince craftily went into the trenches at the right time of day, he could secure within a few days a great reputation for courage while incurring minimal risk.

  Such was the strategy decided on. On 5 August the prince spent some six hours with Liria in the trenches during the siesta hours. He was mounted on a little horse. The excursion was not quite so risk-free as Liria had hoped, but the young prince showed remarkable coolness under fire, ‘even when the balls were whistling about his ears’.23

  At court meanwhile the Stuart charm was as pronounced as ever. On one occasion the prince’s cockade fell from his hat and one of the courtiers replaced it wrongly. Seeing this, the Infanta fixed it in the correct position. Charles thanked Don Carlos and said he would keep the cockade for ever in memory of the incident.24 Already the prince was learning the art of reading men and saying the things they wanted to hear.

  The prince quickly made a lot of admirers. Dunbar admitted that his charge’s diplomatic skills exceeded his expectations.25 Don Carlos especially expressed himself surprised at his maturity. Liria confided to James that the said Infanta was completely outclassed by the young prince in every department; education, breeding, wit, repartee.26 Moreover, Charles Edward was already a great favourite with the troops. Quickly mastering the art of being all things to all men, the prince impressed the soldiers by speaking French to the Walloons, Spanish to the Spaniards, and Italian to the Italians. The men flocked around him, crowding in to catch his attention or beg a word with him, amazed at such a phenomenon. The prince joked with them in a familiar way. To Liria’s astonishment he was able to charm them as easily as he had charmed the Neapolitan court, and with all the aplomb of an experienced military officer. Liria commented to his brother: ‘His manner of conversation is really bewitching, and you may lay to your account that if it were otherwise, I would not have kept it a secret from you.’27

  Having scored such a hit on his one day in the trenches, the prince wanted to plunge deeper into the thick of the action. He plagued Liria to be able to take up station with the forward batteries. Liria was at his wits’ end to know how to refuse him. The prince’s great popularity with the troops, and the fact that he had already ventured into the trenches where the Infanta feared to tread, was already sufficiently embarrassing. It was a delicate situation. If Charles Edward went any farther into the press of the fighting, Don Carlos would be publicly humiliated.28

  Fortunately for Liria, his problem was solved in the most unexpected way. On 6 August the defenders of Gaeta suddenly and unexpectedly gave up the ghost; whether through the treachery of their Catalan mercenaries, as was alleged, or because of the sheer destructive power of the Spanish floating battery, was uncertain.29

  The sudden collapse of Gaeta left the prince free to explore Naples. On the Sunday after the surrender of Gaeta he was entertained on board the Capetano galley by Prince Campo-Florido’s brother, the captain-general of Spanish galleys. Unfortunately Charles suffered sea-sickness from the rocking motion of the ship; he was never to be a great sailor.30 When he got back to his lodgings, he needed ten hours’ sleep to get over this malady. When he got up, he found he had regained all his old resilience. He ate more in one day in Naples than in two at Rome.

  The round of social engagements continued: dinner with count Estemar one day, with the Grand Prior of France the next. The Infanta put his own private galley at the prince’s disposal. Charles went to bed late every night. By the time he arose in the morning, the cool house he shared with Liria was full of distinguished company, waiting to pay him compliments.31

  There can be no doubt that the Gaeta excursion, though it actually involved no more than one day in the trenches, was a propaganda triumph for the prince. Liria was ecstatic about his charge and cousin: ‘In a word this Prince discovers that in great princes whom nature has marked out for heroes valour does not wait for the number of years.’32 The Infanta was particularly impressed with him and gave a prestigious position in his army to a Jacobite officer as a mark of his regard for the prince. As Liria remarked: ‘The king of Naples was struck with wonder to find in the dawn of years such ripe thought and so much prudence, which are rarely to be met with in Princes arrived at the full maturity of age.’33 Moreover, Charles had successfully refuted those who said he was too young as yet to make a mark on the world.

  The prince decided to make the most of his few precious days of freedom before returning to James’s oppressive regime. Despite the nagging letters he received from his father,34 while in Naples he ate and drank whatever he fancied and put on weight. As the helpless Dunbar reported to James: ‘He eats a great deal more and with less rule as to choice of it than he used to, which gives me some apprehension, but this air is more favourable to the digestion than that of Rome.’35

  Meanwhile the political consequences of Charles Edward’s first campaign continued to reverberate around Europe. Keene, the British Minister in Madrid, protested vociferously to Foreign Minister Patiño about this ‘unfriendly action’ by Spain.36 The Spanish initiative was considered particularly dangerous in that it seemed to set a precedent. It was felt that France could not after this very well refuse the prince a campaign in her own army.37 Fleury, apprehensive of English reaction, was particularly concerned at this development. He started lobbying at Madrid to ensure that Charles Edward did not serve with the Spaniards in next year’s Lombardy campaign.38 But not even the Jacobites’ enemies cared to deny the wonderful fillip given the prince’s reputation by the Gaeta campaign. ‘Everyone agrees he will be with time a much more dangerous enemy to the present regime in England than his father has been,’ Walton reported grudgingly.39 From all sides the plaudits for the prince’s success poured in. Dunbar confided to James that the Neapolitan ministers would be glad to see the back of him, since in public opinion Charles Edward far outshone the Infanta Don Carlos.40

  It was at this precise moment, when the prince was winning golden opinions on all sides and basking in the attention of the Neapolitan nobility, that James showed himself at his most crassly insensitive. The occasion was the two short notes his son had dashed
off to him in the general excitement, and for whose brevity he had Dunbar’s sanction.41 Bridling at what he took to be lack of filial deference, James on 27 August sent his son a blistering letter of rebuke. He complained of the insolent curtness of the letters and the fact that they were incorrectly copied:

  But what makes these particulars give me the more concern is that I am sensible these omissions proceed from your too natural aversion to all application and constraint and that if you do not get the better of yourself and endeavour to cultivate the talents which Providence has given you, you will soon lose that good character which your present behaviour is beginning to gain you. Your great youth at present makes the smallest things be approved of and even admired in you, but as you grow older, every year, may I say every month, more will be expected from you and that more will never come without some pains and application on your side … if you will not so much be at the trouble of writing a letter of reasonable length on indifferent subjects, what can be expected from you in greater matters? What a figure will you make in the world? And above all, how highly responsible will you be to God Almighty for burying the talents he has given you and for not making yourself capable of performing the duties he requires of you?42

  This letter is more eloquent on the true state of relations between father and son than a dozen routine, formulaic letters about ‘dearest Carluccio’. What can have induced James to send off such a hurtful screed at the height of his son’s triumph? It is difficult not to see some resentment or jealousy at work here. Quite apart from the brilliant figure his son had cut in Naples – contrasting so strongly with the débâcle in Scotland in 1716, the only time James had attempted to put his own personal appeal to the test – the whispers James heard around him that the son was already supplanting the father would have revived the hurt feelings over the 1733 Bolingbroke scheme to use Charles Edward to edge out the ‘Old Pretender’. It will be remembered that the peculiar cunning of Bolingbroke’s idea was the insinuation that Charles Edward could be restored by Parliament or by internal unrest in England, whereas James’s restoration would take a French invasion.43 Moreover, James had recently received striking testimony of the desire of the English Jacobites to go over (or under) his head to Charles Edward. The disgraced Church of England parson Zeckie Hamilton (confidant of Earl Marischal and Ormonde) had, the month before Gaeta, surpassed all his previous mad insolence to the king by writing to Charles Edward to ask him to disavow his father’s authority.44 So strong were the pressures from certain factions of the English Jacobites to detach the prince from his father that Walton at first thought this, not the siege of Gaeta, was the true explanation for Charles’s departure from Albano at the end of July.45