The 1715 Jacobite Rising, following the accession of George I, was led by the disaffected Earl of Mar and had so much popular support in Scotland it ought to have succeeded. It did not, however, and before the Old Pretender had even landed in Scotland, events had been sealed by the inconclusive Battle of Sheriffmuir on 13 November, when the inept Mar’s vastly larger contingent were held at bay by the king’s men. One of the defeated rebels was William Maxwell, fifth Earl of Nithsdale, who was captured at Preston and sent to the Tower of London to await his execution, which was scheduled for 24 February 1716. In a letter to her sister, his doughty wife Winifred describes how she carried out an audacious plan for his escape after learning that of all the prisoners, her husband was the one for whom there was no hope of reprieve.
I immediately left the House of Lords, and hastened to the Tower, where, affecting an air of joy and satisfaction, I told all the guards I passed by, that I came to bring joyful tidings to the prisoners. I desired them to lay aside their fears, for the petition had passed the House in their favour. I then gave them some money to drink to the Lords and his Majesty, though it was but trifling; for I thought, that if I were too liberal on the occasion, they might suspect my designs, and that giving them something would gain their good humour and services for the next day, which was the eve of the execution.
The next morning I could not go to the Tower, having so many things in my hands to put in readiness; but in the evening, when all was ready, I sent for Mrs Mills, with whom I lodged, and acquainted her with my design of attempting my Lord’s escape, as there was no prospect of his being pardoned; and this was the last night before the execution. I told her that I had everything in readiness, and I trusted that she would not refuse to accompany me, that my Lord might pass for her. I pressed her to come immediately as we had no time to lose. At the same time I sent for Mrs Morgan, usually known by the name of Hilton, to whose acquaintance my dear Evans [the Countess’s maid] had introduced me, which I looked upon as a very singular happiness. I immediately communicated my resolution to her. She was of a very tall and slender make, so I begged her to put under her own riding-hood, one that I had prepared for Mrs Mills, as she was to lend her’s to my Lord, and that in coming out he might be taken for her. Mrs Mills was then with child; so that she was not only of the same height, but nearly of the same size as my Lord. When they were in the coach, I never ceased talking, that they might have no leisure to reflect. Their surprise and astonishment, when I first opened my design to them, had made them consent, without ever thinking of the consequences. On our arrival at the Tower, the first I introduced was Mrs Morgan; for I was only allowed to take in one at a time. She brought in the clothes that were to serve Mrs Mills, when she left her own behind her. When Mrs Morgan had taken off what she had brought for my purpose, I conducted her back to the staircase; and, in going, I begged her to send me in my maid to dress me; and that I was afraid of being too late to present my last petition that night if she did not come immediately. I despatched her safe, and went partly down stairs to meet Mrs Mills, who had the precaution to hold her handkerchief to her face, as was very natural for a woman to do when she was going to bid her last farewell to a friend on the eve of his execution. I had indeed desired her to do it, that my Lord might go out in the same manner. Her eye-brows were rather inclined to be sandy, and my Lord’s were dark and very thick; however, I had prepared some paint of the colour of her’s to disguise his with. I also brought an artificial head-dress of the same coloured hair as her’s; and I painted his face with white and his cheeks with rouge, to hide his long beard, as he had not time to shave. All this provision I had before left in the Tower.
The poor guards, whom my slight liberality the day before had endeared to me, let me go quietly with my company, and were not so strictly on the watch as they usually had been; and the more so, as they were persuaded, from what I had told them the day before, that the prisoners would obtain their pardon. I made Mrs Mills take off her own hood, and put on that which I had brought for her; I then took her by the hand and led her out of my Lord’s chamber; and in passing through the next room, in which there were several people, with all the concern imaginable, I said, ‘My dear Mrs Catherine, go in all haste, and send me my waiting maid; she certainly cannot reflect how late it is; she forgets that I am to present a petition tonight, and, if I let slip their opportunity I am undone, for tomorrow will be too late. Hasten her as much as possible, for I shall be on thorns till she comes.’
Every body in the room, who were chiefly the guards’ wives and daughters, seemed to compassionate me exceedingly, and the sentinel very officiously opened the door to me. When I had seen her out, I returned back to my Lord, and finished dressing him. I had taken care that Mrs Mills did not go out crying, as she came in, that my Lord might better pass for the Lady who came in crying and afflicted, and the more so, because he had the same dress she wore. When I had almost finished my dressing my Lord in all my petticoats, excepting one, I perceived that it was growing dark, and was afraid that the light of the candles might betray us, so I resolved to set off; I went out leading him by the hand, and he held his handkerchief to his eyes; I spoke to him in the most piteous and afflicted tone of voice, bewailing bitterly the negligence of Evans who had ruined me by her delay.
Then said I, ‘My dear Mrs Betty, for the love of God run quickly, and bring her with you; you know my lodging, and if ever you made dispatch in your life, do it at present; I am almost distracted with this disappointment.’ The guards opened the doors, and I went down stairs with him, still conjuring him to make all possible dispatch. As soon as he had cleared the door, I made him walk before me, for fear the sentinel should take notice of his walk, but I still continued to press him to make all the dispatch he possibly could.
At the bottom of the stairs, I met my dear Evans, into whose hands I confided him. I had before engaged Mr Mills to be in readiness, before the Tower, to conduct him to some place of safety, in case we succeeded. He looked upon the affair so very improbable to succeed, that his astonishment, when he saw us, threw him into such consternation, that he was almost out of himself, which Evans perceiving, with the greatest presence of mind, without telling him any thing, lest he should mistrust them, conducted him to some of her own friends, on whom he could rely, and so secured him, without which we should have been undone. When she had conducted him, and left him with them, she returned to find Mr Mills, who, by this time, had recovered himself from his astonishment. They went home together, and, having found a place of security, they conducted him to it.
In the mean while, as I had pretended to have sent the young lady on a message, I was obliged to return up stairs and go back to my Lord’s room, in the same feigned anxiety of being too late, so that every body seemed sincerely to sympathize with my distress. When I was in the room, I talked to him, as if he had been really present, and answered my own questions in my Lord’s voice, as nearly as I could imitate it. I walked up and down, as if we were conversing together, till I thought they had time enough thoroughly to clear themselves of the guards. I then thought proper to make off also.
I opened the door, and stood half in it, that those in the outward chamber might hear what I said, but held it so close, that they could not look in. I bid my Lord a formal farewell for that night, and added, that something more than usual must have happened to make Evans negligent on this important occasion, who had always been so punctual in the smallest trifles; that I saw no other remedy than to go in person; that, if the Tower were still open when I finished my business, I would return that night; but that he might be assured I would be with him as early in the morning as I could gain admittance into the Tower, and I flattered myself I should bring favourable news.
Then, before I shut the door, I pulled through the string of the latch, so that it could only be opened on the inside. I then shut it with some degree of force, that I might be sure of its being well shut. I said to the servant as I passed by, who was ignorant of the whole transaction, that he need not carry in candles to his master till my Lord sent for him, as he desired to finish some prayers first. I went down stairs, and called a coach. As there were several on the stand, I drove home to my lodgings, where poor Mr Mackenzie had been waiting to carry the petition, in case my attempt had failed. I told him there was no need of any petition, as my Lord was safe out of the Tower, and out of the hands of his enemies, as I hoped; but that I did not know where he was …