The 1715 Uprising
THE year 1715 was an exciting and anxious time throughout Scotland, and nowhere was the anxiety keener than in Edinburgh ; for, should the war break out of which men whispered, the capital would have its full share of troubles. So the good citizens began to prepare for what seemed every day more certain. A volunteer movement was begun which resulted in the enrolling of four hundred citizen soldiers, and at the Castle unusually elaborate precautions were taken against the onset of a hostile force. Ample provisions for a prolonged siege were laid up in store ; trenches were dug in the eastern front facing the approach from the city ; the regular guards were doubled ; and the Nor' Loch by the closing of the sluice, had its modest expanse converted into a good-sized lake, such as any attacking force would find difficult to negotiate.
What had led to all this alarm? The death of ' Good Queen Anne,' and the accession to the throne of the King who lives in Scottish song as ' The wee, wee German Lairdie.' George I. was undoubtedly; the reverse of popular with his new subjects, and in no part of his dominions was his popularity less than in Scotland. The time was eminently hopeful for any attempt which the exiled Stuart King might make to regain the throne of his fathers, and Scotland was plainly the likeliest starting-point for any such enterprise. Towards the autumn of 1715 this likelihood became a certainty, and in the early days of September it was known in Edinburgh that the rebellion had begun. At the call of John, Earl of Mar, the Highlands had risen, and, as was to happen again in 1745, so it was now
The standard on the braes o' Mar
Is up an' streaming rarely ;
The gath'ring pipe on Lochnagar
Is sounding loud an' sairly.
The Hielandmen frae hill an' glen,
Wi' belted plaids an' glitt'ring blades,
Wi' bonnets blue, an' hearts sae true,
Are coming late an' early.
They came in their thousands. Nine thousand of them were soon ready to descend on the Lowland country, which then was garrisoned by but three thousand of King George's troops. First the town of Perth, then Edinburgh, and then England was the route proposed. The first stage was certain, for Perth was sure to yield ; and Edinburgh was sure also, if the Castle were previously secured. But was that possible? If it were, the importance of its capture could hardly be over-estimated, not only from the added strength and prestige which the Jacobite cause would thereby gain, but also by reason of the rich spoils in arms, stores, and money, that would be gained. At least 100,000 pounds was known to be there, in ward. So great was the prize, and so valuable its possession, that some daring Jacobites determined to secure it, and fixed on the night of 8th September for their memorable attempt, which all but succeeded.
The scheme originated with Lord Drummond of Perth, and was engineered by Ensign Arthur, a former officer of the Scots Fusilier Guards, who had at one time been quartered with his regiment in the Castle, and so knew the ground intimately. Forty of Lord Drummond's own clansmen and other forty young Jacobites of Edinburgh were selected for the enterprise, which was to be carried out under the leadership of a daring Highlander, Drummond of Balhaldie. The spot chosen for the surprise was the north-west corner of the wall near the old sallyport. By bribes and promises the necessary allies within the Castle had been secured a sergeant named Ainslie, who was promised a lieutenancy ; a corporal, who was to be rewarded with an ensign's post ; and two privates, who were to receive a money recompense. At eleven o'clock on the night of 8th September these four would be on guard at the sally-port, and it was arranged that at that hour the attacking party should clamber up the rocks at the foot of the wall, carrying with them a strong "scaling ladder made of ropes and with pulleys," and wide enough to bear four men abreast. This the sergeant would haul up and fix to the battlements, when in a trice eighty bold, determined men would be over the wall, and with sword and bullet would do the rest. The Castle once taken, three discharges of artillery were to signal the success of the attempt to friends watching from the Fife shore. Then on the Lomonds a beacon fire would blaze and flash the tidings to the Forfarshire hills, from which it would be yet further signalled to the gathered clans at Invercauld, when, in impetuous might, Mar and his Highlanders would descend on the Lowlands and carry all Scotland before them.
It was a bold, well-planned scheme, and but for a woman's timid fears would in all likelihood have succeeded, and for a time at least might have seriously altered the course of our country's history. Ensign Arthur happened to have a brother in Edinburgh, a doctor, and, like himself, a keen Jacobite. In the coming assault there would inevitably be severe fighting and some bloodshed, when a doctor would be of much service ; so, with the best of intentions, Arthur revealed the scheme to his brother, and invited his co-operation. The doctor readily agreed to accompany the bold Highlanders, but with further thought there came uneasiness ; and as the critical hour approached, the unwonted excitement and anxiety of it all told visibly on this non-military combatant. His sharpeyed anxious wife saw that there was something on her husband's mind and plied him with many questions, until at last, finding evasion impossible, he told the secret. No doubt it was told under a promise of further secrecy, but wifely concern absolved her conscience of any breach of honour, and dwarfed every other consideration save the personal one. What to her was the success of King James VIII compared with the life and safety of her husband !
Instantly, and without her husband's knowledge, a messenger was despatched to the Lord Justice- Clerk, bearing an anonymous letter revealing the plot, and stating that the assault was to be made that very night. It was already ten o'clock when the letter was delivered, and ere the Lord Justice-Clerk's warning note reached the Castle another hour had gone. Even then the plan might not have been frustrated, for Colonel Stewart, the Governor of the Castle, gave the warning very scant attention. Perhaps he did not believe it ; perhaps he did, and felt some secret sympathy with an attempt made in the cause of a King whose name he shared. At all events he did just as little as he possibly could after receiving a warning of the kind. " Let a good watch be kept," he said, and then went calmly to bed.
Fortunately, however, for the safety of the Castle and unfortunately for the bold conspirators - the chief officer on duty that night, Lieutenant Lindsay, was a man of a different type and of other sympathies. He at once put the garrison under arms, and set himself to a ceaseless round of inspection of the walls all night long. Yet even this vigilance would have been too late had the attack taken place at the hour originally planned, and not all Lindsay's caution nor the intervention of the woman marplot would have saved the Castle from capture.
But the fates were fighting against the Jacobites that night, and among the attacking party themselves there were adverse happenings. The charms of a tavern on a dark stormy night were too great to be resisted, and sufficed to keep a number of the men so pleasantly occupied that the hour for mustering slipped past unnoticed, and eleven o'clock had already struck before the eighty assembled in St. Cuthbert's Churchyard and proceeded through the darkness to the rock under the old postern. The half-hour that followed was as full of dramatic tension and incident as any man of all the eighty could have wished, though not of the precise kind that any of them expected or desired.
Clambering up the rocky face no easy task in the darkness they reach the foot of the wall, to find their sentinel friend peering impatiently for them over the battlement. " Quick," he cries ; " you're terribly late ! The patrol will be here at twelve o'clock."
But, alas, there is yet another delay. Part of the ladder is still wanting ! Charles Forbes, the Edinburgh rope-merchant who is bringing it, has not yet come, so there is nothing for it but wait. The minutes pass and seem like hours, for as each slips away the chances of success slip away too. At last Balhaldie can bear the suspense no longer. He must do something. " Throw a rope," he cries to the sergeant, and the rope is thrown. The ladder is hoisted and grappled fast to the battlements. But it helps nothing, for the lowest rung dangles quite beyond the reach of the eager men below. Oh, tardy Charles Forbes, these are no words of blessing that are muttered by some eighty pairs of lips! But whether blessings or curses makes little difference. To wait is all that can be done to wait, and hope that the missing rope may yet arrive before the patrol comes round to the postern gate and the guard is changed.
But soon that hope is ended, and the chance of success has gone for ever. Approaching steps are heard, and Sergeant Ainslie knows that the game is up. His one thought now is how to save himself and divert suspicion, and his actions show that he is a man of resource, if not of principle. Casting off the grappling tackle, he throws down the ladder, fires his musket into the darkness, shouts, " The enemy ! " and, in short, does everything that a vigilant sentinel might be expected to do. Lieu- tenant Lindsay and the patrol rush up, look over the wall, see nothing, but hear the hurried scamper of many feet, and fire into the darkness below. There all is confusion, for since the enterprise has clearly failed, it is each man for himself. Scrambling and sliding down the rocky slope, they reach the bottom, and make their way unpursued round the west end of the loch, where at last they meet the long-expected Charles Forbes with the precious rope, now so useless. What welcome they gave him is not recorded, but it may be well imagined.
Of the men engaged in this assault all but four escaped. Of these, one was Captain M'Lean, a one-legged veteran of Killiecrankie, whose physical infirmity made rapid movement impossible, and the others were Leslie, a page of the Duchess of Gordon, and two 'writer-lads' of Edinburgh. All four were found lying on the slopes, bruised or wounded, when the city guard, who had been alarmed by the firing, came hurrying round from the West Port to give assistance, now no longer needed. It was a poor capture : so poor and unrepresentative that no attempt to punish the four was ever made, the only sufferer being the traitorous Sergeant Ainslie, whose complicity was discovered, and who, for his treachery, was hanged over the postern gate, the scene of his disloyalty.
So there was no joyous discharge of artillery from the Castle ramparts. The bonfire ready for the kindling on the Lomonds of Fife never blazed up its message into the sky ; and as the long night passed and no beacon glow reddened the Grampian summits, the Earl of Mar, watching and waiting at far Invercauld, knew that the bold enterprise had failed, and that over Edinburgh Castle there still fluttered the flag of the Union and King George.
(The painting, "Drill Parade, Edinburgh Castle", is by Robert Sanderson (1848–1908), and was painted in 1886. Photo credit: City of Edinburgh Council, Art UK.)
