,
fought hard before the British troops in Ireland broke the backs of
both his armies and sent him into exile. Again in 1715--an episode
perpetuated in Thackeray's dramatic story of Henry Esmond--came the son
of James to take advantage of the vacancy caused by the death of Queen
Anne. But it is perhaps to this claimant's son, the last of the
militant Stuarts, that more chivalrous feeling has been given than to
any other.

To his followers he was the Young Chevalier, the true Prince of Wales;
to his enemies, the Whigs and the Hanoverians, he was "the Pretender."
One of the most romantic chapters of history is the one which tells of
that last brilliant dash which he made upon the coast of Scotland,
landing with but a few attendants and rejecting the support of a French
army.

"It is not with foreigners," he said, "but with my own loyal subjects,
that I wish to regain the kingdom for my father."

It was a daring deed, and the spectacular side of it has been often
commemorated, especially in Sir Walter Scott's Waverley. There we see
the gallant prince moving through a sort of military panorama. Most of
the British troops were absent in Flanders, and the few regiments that
could be mustered to meet him were appalled by the ferocity and
reckless courage of the Highlanders, who leaped down like wildcats from
their hills and flung themselves with dirk and sword upon the British
cannon.

We see Sir John Cope retiring at Falkirk, and the astonishing victory
of Prestonpans, where disciplined British troops fled in dismay through
the morning mist, leaving artillery and supplies behind them. It is
Scott again who shows us the prince, master of Edinburgh for a time,
while the white rose of Stuart royalty held once more the ancient keep
above the Scottish capital. Then we see the Chevalier pressing
southward into England, where he hoped to raise an English army to
support his own. But his Highlanders cared nothing for England, and the
English--even the Catholic gentry--would not rise to support his cause.

Personally, he had every gift that could win allegiance. Handsome,
high-tempered, and brave, he could also control his fiery spirit and
listen to advice, however unpalatable it might be.

The time was favorable. The British troops had been defeated on the
Continent by Marshal Saxe, of whom I have already written, and by
Marshal d'Estrees. George II. was a king whom few respected. He could
scarcely speak anything but German.