between the houses of Stuart and Radcliffe continued until the fortunes
of both were quenched in disaster and gloom. The figure of the young
and gallant James Radcliffe, last Earl of Derwentwater, holds the
imagination no less than the heart as it moves across the page of
history for a brief space to its tragic end. Though born in London, in
June 1689, young Radcliffe passed his childhood and youth in France in
the closest companionship with James Stuart, son of the exiled James II.
At the age of twenty-one he returned to his home in Northumbria, and
took up his residence there, his charming manners, kind heart, and
openhanded hospitality speedily endearing him to all classes. His
servants and tenants, in particular, were passionately devoted to him.
In the words of the old ballad of "Derwentwater"--

"O, Derwentwater's a bonnie lord,
And golden is his hair,
And glintin' is his hawkin' e'e
Wi' kind love dwelling there."

On his marriage in 1712, the young bride and bridegroom remained for two
years at the home of the bride's father, and preparations were made for
restoring the glories of Dilston on an extensive scale. On
Derwentwater's return to his beautiful Northumbrian seat in 1714, the
death of Queen Anne had excited the hopes of all the friends of the
house of Stuart, and plots and secret meetings were being planned
throughout Scotland and the north of England, the objective being the
restoration of the exiled Stuarts to the throne. Derwentwater took
little part in these attempts to organise rebellion for some time, but
at length was drawn into the dangerous game, as he was too valuable an
asset to be passed over by the Jacobite party.

At last rumours of the projected rising reached London, and a warrant
was issued for the arrest of Derwentwater, even before it was known
whether he had actually joined the plotters, his well-known friendship
with the exiled Prince making it almost certain that he would be an
important figure in any movement on their behalf. For the next few weeks
the young Earl found himself obliged to remain in hiding, finding safety
in the cottages of his tenants, and in the houses of friends and
neighbours. Finally, though his good sense warned him that he was
embarking on an almost hopeless enterprise, he decided to throw in his
lot with the Jacobites.

Tradition has it that his decision was brought about by the taunts of
his Countess, who, like the rest of the Jacobite ladies, w