After Queen Anne died and the Hanovers took over what had become the British throne, despite the fact that Anne had many closer blood relatives with the Stuarts than the Hanovers, the Jacobites again took up the Stuart cause. The fact that George I didn't speak English didn't help, of course. At least they say he didn't speak English. And so, shortly thereafter, the Scots again came arising.
This "Rising" was called "The Fifteen" because it took place in 1715. That summer, the latest James Stuart, "The Old Pretender," (there would later be a "Young Pretender") put out the word to the Earl of Mar to raise the Clans. He did. In early September, Mar declared, again, that James (who was wanting to be James III and VIII by virtue of the fact he was the only surviving legitimate son of James II and VII, whose desertion/abdication was conveniently now being forgotten by the Jacobites) was the true and lawful sovereign. He (Mar) dusted off the old Scottish standard and prepared to go a-German-hunting. His clans-army grew to about 8,000 men and he captured Perth. If you can call visiting a friendly house "capture." The fighting was all in Scotland, though, with the aim (I deduce) of taking over Scotland and negating the Act of Union. For starters.
However, Perth alone did not Scotland make, and a fair number of clans were by now loyal to the established government down south, so Jacobite traction was a bit slow. Planned simultaneous Risings in Wales, Devon (rhymes with heaven) and Cornwall sort of fizzled out - mostly on account of the fact that George began arresting all the local Jacobites down there. But, in the north of England, a Northumberland man named Thomas Forster raised about 300 horse soldiers for the Stuart cause. On the other side, those in that general area who were loyal to George became known as "Geordies" and are still called that today, although few of those Geordies and Geordettes know why, I'd wager. Maybe they will read this post and find out they aren't called that just because of the way they speak. I digress.
Mar was loath to venture from the safety of Perth, and very little headway was made. A battle here, a skirmish there. In December, Ol' James himself arrived in Scotland, supposing (I'm guessing) that his mere presence would make the clans go wild with adoration and begin fighting in earnest. But the Old Pretender was a bit tetched in the head by then, I think - although they called it "deep melancholy" which probably sounds better, and, in the end, he wasn't that keen on dying in the Scotland winter of December 1715. Turning to one of his pretend ministers he coughed something to the effect of, "You really need to get me the hell out of here now," and so it was. This is my personal vision. Wikipedia's is more drawn out and hard to understand whereas mine could just as well have been the way it happened. Although, being Catholic, he probably would have said heck instead of hell. Moving on.
Accordingly, off to France sailed the would be James III and VIII, not personally to ever fight another day. But from his loins had come a "Young Pretender" so, even as the Firth of Forth slowly got smaller in James' rear view mirror, the die-hard Jacobites vowed, as they disbanded, being deserted by their would-be king, who wanted to show them just how much he cared for them, that they would encourage their sons and grandsons to rise to the cause sometime in the future. Why? I'm starting to lose track.
Those future Risings will be the subject of our next post. I have a feeling you already have guessed how this all turns out. (Hint: the current ruler of the UK is still descended from Electress Sophia. Of Hanover.)