A few days after he had taken possession of the town, a council of war

was called, to consider what was next to be done. Some of the officers

proposed returning to Scotland; others were in favour of encamping near

Carlisle, and waiting to see whether there would be any rising in

England. Others advised marching forwards, by the west of England;

arguing, that having Carlisle, happen what might, they had a safe

retreat. Charles Edward declared himself to be of the last-mentioned

opinion, and his inclinations were seconded by Lord George to a certain

extent. He stated the advantages and disadvantages of both propositions;

but added, that, although he could not venture to advise the Prince to

march into England without more encouragement than they had hitherto

received, yet he was persuaded that if his Royal Highness marched south,

his army, though but small, would follow him. Upon this, Charles

immediately said these words, "I will venture it." "I spoke," adds Lord

George, "with the more caution, since some things had happened about the

time of the blockade of Carlisle, and a little before, which had made me

desirous to serve only as a volunteer, and not as a general officer;

but, as all the other officers were very pressing with me, I soon laid

that thought aside."[81]

What those circumstances were, Lord George explains in the following

letter to his brother. His difficulties, owing to the want of

arrangements, such as his skill and experience might have suggested, had

he been first in command, appear to have been sufficiently trying. Yet,

in the extract from a letter dated Nov. 15, from Harraby, Lord George

does ample justice to the exertions of the Duke of Perth. This epistle

was written whilst the blockade and battery were going on.

"I am sorry to find that it is impossible to go on so quick with the

battery of cannon as would have been wished. By the report of those

I sent there, the ground is marshy, and vastly too much exposed;

and, notwithstanding all the pains taken by the Duke of Perth, who

is indefatigable in that service, and who meets with innumerable

difficulties, I suspect the place pitched upon will not answer. But,

if the thing be prosecuted, I think it my duty to tell you, so as

you may represent it to his Royal Highness, that the men posted upon

the blockade of Carlisle will not expose themselves, either in

trenches, or all night in the open air, within cannon-shot, or even

musket-shot of the town, except it be in their turn with the rest of

the army, and that it be decided by lot who is to mount the guard,

first night, second, and so on. The way I would propose, if it be

approved of by a council of war, is as follows:--that fifty men be

draughted out of each of the battalions that are at Brampton, with

proper officers, and at least two majors out of the six battalions,

and be sent to quarter at Butcherby, which, I believe, is within a

mile of the battery; and, as I suppose, one hundred and fifty men

will mount guard at the battery. These six battalions will furnish

two guards; your men will furnish one, General Gordon and Lord

Ogilvie's one, which, in the whole, makes four guards, or reliefs;

and I think, by that time, the town will be either taken or the

blockade removed. I don't mention the Duke of Perth's regiment,

because they have more than their turn of the duty already, besides

furnishing workmen, &c. And for Colonel Roy Stuart's regiments, I

suppose they have the guard of the equipage, &c.; and they will,

perhaps, be able to furnish some workmen. If anything be done of

this nature, the sooner I hear of it the better. I ever am, dear

brother, your most affectionate brother, and faithful humble

servant,

"GEORGE MURRAY."[82]

This advice was disregarded. A court-martial was held to consider of the

plan suggested by Lord George. By this council the detachments proposed

by Lord George for the relief of the battery were refused, upon the plea

that those corps had lately encountered all the fatigue of the blockade

at Edinburgh, and that it would not be fair to put them again upon that

service. On the day after receiving this decision, in the hand-writing

of Secretary Murray, Lord George addressed the following letter to the

Prince. His conduct upon this occasion shows the proud and fiery spirit

of this able commander.

"15th November, 1745.

"Sir,

"I cannot but observe how little my advice as a General officer has

any weight with your Royal Highness, ever since I had the honour of

a commission from your hands. I therefore take leave to give up my

commission. But as I ever had a firm attachment to the royal family,

and in particular to the King my master, I shall go on as a

volunteer, and design to be this night in the trenches as such, with

any others that will please to follow me, though I own I think there

are full few on this post already. Your Royal Highness will please

order whom you think fit to command on this post, and the other

parts of the blockade. I have the honour to be, sir, your Royal

Highness's most faithful and most humble servant,

(Signed) "GEORGE MURRAY.[83]

"Lord Elcho has the command till you please to appoint it

otherwise."

To his brother, the Marquis of Tullibardine, Lord George wrote still

more fully. In this letter, after informing the Marquis that he had

given up his commission of Lieutenant-General, Lord George complains of

a want of confidence on the part of the Prince, in regard to the terms

which were to be accepted or rejected in the surrender of Carlisle.

Touching these, Charles Edward, who was now almost completely under the

controul of Secretary Murray, acted in a weak and vacillating manner.

When pressed by Lord George Murray to give him full instructions, he

hesitated; Lord George entreated him, if he could not decide during his

presence in the camp, that the Prince would send instructions after

him.[84] "When he would not come to any fixed resolution before I came

away, I begged his Royal Highness would send his intentions and

instructions after me, that I might conduct myself by them; but his

secretary told me plainly, he took that matter to be his province, as he

seems indeed to take everything upon him both as to civil and military.

There are many other things which have determined me to wish to have no

command; and it is some time past since I observed things must go into

utter confusion. I shall show, as a volunteer, that no man wishes more

success to the cause; and I can be of more use charging in the first

rank of your Atholl men than as a general, where I was constantly at a

loss to know what was doing. I am of opinion you should reduce your men

to two battalions; one for Lord Nairn, the other Mr. Mercer. When you

are quartered anywhere, if you have a hole to spare, I shall be as often

with you as I can; at other times, I shall lye with the men in a barn,

which I doubt not will hearten them much. In every thing, as a

volunteer, I shall do all I can to advance the service; but am

determined never to act as an officer. I have several things to say at

meeting. If you have occasion for tent or horses, they are at your

service, for I design to keep none, but make presents of them all.

"Adieu! Yours, GEORGE MURRAY."

"Haroby, 15th Nov. 1745."

* * * * *

Not only were the seeds of disunion thus sown between the Prince and the

Generals, but also between the Marquis of Tullibardine and Lord George

Murray.

"I did expect," writes Lord George to the Marquis, "that you would have

upon occasion stood my friend; but I find you are too apt to hearken to

designing people, by your being so ready to blame me before I was heard;

and, except you show some regard for me, how can I expect it of others?

I told his Royal Highness that you had acquainted me that he desired to

see me. He said, No, he had nothing particular to say to me. I told him

I should be as ready to serve in a private station, and as a volunteer,

in the first rank of your men, as ever I could be in any other. He said

I might do so. Nothing else passed. I spoke a good time to Sir Thomas

Sheridan, and told him in particular, that if anything was taken amiss

in my letter, as having expressed my attachment to the King, without

having mentioned his Royal Highness, it was very injurious to me; for

having mentioned the King and royal family, (and designing my letter to

be short,) I thought it needless to be more particular; for surely, next

to the King, I would serve none on earth before his Royal Highness:

which, after what I have shown, and all my actions since I joined the

standard, could not be called in question. I mentioned several

particulars, wherein I showed that I had no authority in the station I

was in, and that others acted as General who had not any call, but used

his Royal Highness's name. That in the drudgery, I was employed, but

anything of moment was done without my participation. That, in short, I

had ventured my all--life, fortune, family--every thing, my honour;

which last I had some to lose, but none to gain, in the way things were

managed, and therefore resolved upon a private station."[85]

The concluding paragraph of this painful letter is written with a force

and bitterness which show how deeply this ardent servant of a failing

cause was wounded by what he justly deemed unmerited caprice and

disrespect. "I wish you would be careful of the Atholl men, that they be

not slighted; which never should have happened as long as I had any

command. I find scarce any of them have got even thanks for venturing

life and fortune, and even the gallows; and, which is worse, (I don't

know how it is come about,) they are not thought equally good with other

men. If you would send me the notes, that were made out, of the way of

modelling them into two different regiments, I would do, now that I have

time to do it, as much as possible for the good of the service and

general comfort. I always am, dear brother, your most faithful and

humble servant and affectionate brother,

"GEORGE MURRAY."[86]

"Haroby, 16th Nov. 1745."

* * * * *

There was also another source of complaint, which, though appearing on

the surface to have originated with the Duke of Perth, was clearly

traceable to the Prince, or rather to his adviser, Secretary Murray. A

marked slight had been passed on Lord George Murray on the very night on

which the battery on Carlisle was opened. He had gone into the trenches;

and, seeing the Duke of Perth there, he had desired him, in case of

anything extraordinary happening, to let him know, and that he would aid

him by every means in his power. What private orders the Duke had was

not known; but, far from applying to Lord George for aid or counsel, he

sent to Brampton, seven miles' distance, whenever any difficulty

occurred, and acquainted the Prince with it, but took no notice of Lord

George, although he was an older officer than himself, and had been sent

to Harroby to cover the siege. Upon this, Lord George, who thought he

was entitled to know what had passed in the trenches, complained, but

received no satisfactory answer: and thus aggrieved, and, as he

conceived, insulted, he sent that letter to the Prince, which has justly

been censured as making an invidious distinction between the young

Chevalier and his father.[87]

These acts of indiscretion and intemperance were followed by another

proceeding still less worthy of the soldier and the man of honour: Lord

George Murray indeed lowered himself, when, at the same time that he

wrote to the Prince, he set on foot a petition praying Charles that he

would dismiss all Roman Catholics from his councils. This was aimed at

the Duke of Perth and Sir Thomas Sheridan; nor can we assign to it any

better motive than that it was intended to re-instate Lord George Murray

in the command. Some allowance may, nevertheless, be made for the

prejudices of a Presbyterian, acting on the determined and overbearing

nature of a high-spirited man. But the vital principles of our Christian

faith tend to soften animosities, to humble pride, and to accord to

others the same intention to act rightly as that of which we ourselves

are prone to boast. A sincere, a truly pious member of the Christian

church cannot be an intolerant partizan of certain modes of faith.

There dwells within his breast a deeper sentiment than that which is

inspired by the worldly and sublunary distinctions of sect. And Lord

George Murray, seeing his young and blameless rival, the Duke of Perth,

brave, honourable, and moderate, had shown greater zeal for true

religion had he not availed himself of an unworthy plea to base upon it

an invidious and covert insinuation.

He was reproved by the magnanimity of the man whom he desired to remove

from the Prince's councils. Although the Duke of Perth did not profess

to acquiesce in the opinion that it was unreasonable that he should have

the chief command, although he did not pretend to acknowledge the

justice of the claim, he nobly gave up, for the sake of a Prince whom he

loved, the superiority to Lord George Murray. His conduct on this

occasion recalls the generous sentiments of the knight and soldier in

ancient times; unhappily it failed in producing that unanimity which it

was intended to effect. The rancour between Lord George Murray and the

Secretary still remained, although it did not break out on every

occasion, and sometimes gave way to the common cause when the interests

of all were at stake.[88]

At Carlisle the forces were reviewed and were found to amount to above

five thousand foot, with five hundred[89] on horseback, mostly

low-country gentlemen followed by their servants, under the name of

guards, hussars, &c.[90] After a few days rest, and after completing

every arrangement for the preservation of Carlisle, the army marched to

Penrith; Lord George preceding the rest of the forces at the head of six

regiments and some horse. This was an adventurous undertaking with so

small a force; for there were now in England above sixty thousand men in

arms including the militia and the newly raised regiments; but the

Prince, observes Mr. Maxwell, "had hitherto had a wonderful run of

success." He was still buoyed up with hopes of a landing of French

troops, and of an insurrection in his favour.[91]

On the twenty-fourth of November the Prince marched from Carlisle to

Penrith, and thence to Lancaster, which he reached on the twenty-fifth,

at the head of the vanguard of his army. He was dressed in a light plaid

belt, with a blue sash, a blue bonnet on his head, decorated with a

white rose, the sound of the bagpipes, and the drum playing "The King

shall have his own again;" the banners, on which were inscribed the

words "Liberty and Property, Church and King," failed, nevertheless, to

inspire the cold spectators who beheld them with a corresponding

enthusiasm.

The army advanced towards Preston, Lord George Murray commanding the

van; and on the twenty-sixth of November, the whole force assembled

before that town, the very name of which struck terror into Scottish

breasts. Nor were the English Jacobites without their fears, nor devoid

of associations with the name of a place in which the hopes of their

party had been blighted in 1715, and their banners steeped in blood.

The walls of Preston recalled to many of the volunteers of Lancashire

the prison in which their fathers had died of fever, or starvation, or

of broken hearts. It is remarkable, as one of the newspapers of the day

observes, that many of those who joined the Chevalier's ranks were the

sons of former insurgents. "Hanging," adds the coarse party writer, "is

hereditary in some families."[92] Lord George Murray, in order to avoid

the "freit," or, in other words, to humour the superstition of the

Highlanders, who had a notion that they never should get beyond Preston,

crossed the Ribble bridge, and landed a great many of his men on the

other side of the water, about a mile from the town, where they halted

the next day, waiting for some intelligence, of which it is presumed,

says Lockhart, "they were disappointed." Here it was necessary to divide

even this little army for the convenience of quarters.[93] At Preston

the Prince was received with enthusiastic cheers, but when officers were

ordered to beat up for recruits, no one enlisted. The tents which had

been provided had been left on the road from Moffat to Edinburgh; and

the season was so severe, that it was impossible even for Highlanders to

sleep in them; the town was too small to receive them; the same

arrangement that had been begun at Carlisle was still pursued, and the

army went in two great divisions, though with scarcely a day's march

between them. Lord George Murray commanded what was called the

low-country regiments; but the greater part of these was, observes Mr.

Maxwell, "Highlanders by their language, and all were in their dress,

for the Highland garb was the uniform of the whole army."

One can easily conceive what must have been the effect of this gallant

force, unbroken by fatigue or privation, and glorying in their

enterprise, as they entered into the friendly county of Lancaster,

filled with Roman Catholic gentry, who gathered around the standard of

the Prince. The colours of the Tartan, which was worn, as we have seen,

by the whole of the army, both Highlanders and Lowlanders, although

denominated by a writer in the _Scots' Magazine_ as a "vulgar glare,"

never offend the eye, but are, according to a high authority,

"beautifully blended and arranged." "Great art," observed the celebrated

Mr. West, "(that is to say, much knowledge of the principles of

colouring with pleasing effect,) has been displayed in the composition

of the tartans of several Clans, regarding them in general as specimens

of national taste, something analogous to the affecting but artless

strains of the native music of Scotland."

This garb, which excited the attention and admiration of Napoleon at the

battle of Waterloo, consisted of the truis, the kilted plaid, and

philibeg. The truis, be it observed, for the benefit of the dwellers in

the south, were used by gentlemen on horseback, and by others according

to their choice; but the common garb of the people was the plaid and

kilt; and this was the usual dress down to the passing of the act for

suppressing the garb. The tartan is said to have been known in Flanders;

and the tartan and kilt to have been adopted in the Lowlands before

their adoption among the mountains.[94] Without attempting to meddle in

the dangerous and intricate question of antiquity, it must be

acknowledged that the Highland dress is well adapted to the habits of a

pastoral people, as well as being extremely graceful and picturesque. It

is also admirably fitted to oppose the inclemency of those regions in

which, among the other habits which characterise the peculiar people who

wear it, it is still regarded as a loved and revered badge of national

distinction. In the various campaigns in Holland, the Highlanders

suffered far less than other nations in that damp and chilly climate; in

the retreat to Corunna, under the hero Sir John Moore, their plaids

bound lightly round their bodies, they experienced the convenience of

that simple form of dress in a rapid and protracted march. Light and

free, the mountaineer could pursue, without restraint, the most

laborious occupations; he could traverse the glens, or ascend mountains

which offer a hopeless aspect to the inhabitants of more civilized

spheres. But it was not only as a convenient and durable mode of apparel

that the kilt and philibeg were advantageous. The Highland costume, when

it formed a feature among English or foreign regiments, cemented a

spirit which was felt and feared by foes. It bound those who wore it in

a common bond, not to dishonour the garb which their chiefs and their

forefathers had worn, by an act of cowardice, or by deeds of

cruelty.[95]

Little did the English Government, or the inhabitants of the metropolis,

or probably the country in general, know the character of the brave,

ill-fated band of Highlanders, who were now advancing into the very

heart of the country. It was the custom, especially among those who

wished to gain preferment at Court, or who affected to be fashionable,

to speak of the Highlanders as low, ignorant savages; semi-barbarians,

to whom the vulgar qualities of personal courage and hardihood might be

allowed, but who had neither any urbanity to strangers, nor refined

notions of honour. The word "rebel," was a mild name for those who were

following Prince Charles's standard as it was borne southwards. The

hardened villains, "the desperadoes, rabble, thieves, banditti!"[96] are

the terms usually employed in expressing the sovereign contempt felt by

ignorance for an honourable, religious, and primitive people. It seems

also to have been thought only necessary for the Duke of Cumberland to

show his face in the north, to put to flight a beggarly handful of

undisciplined men, whose moral character, if we might credit certain

passages in the Magazines of the day, was as low as their military

acquirements. By other nations besides their own sister country, the

same erroneous notions concerning the Scottish Highlanders prevailed. In

Germany it was conceded that they might be capable of becoming "good and

useful subjects when converted from heathenism." The French, too,

presumed to look upon them with contempt, until they met them, when

acting as auxiliaries to other powers, so often in battle, and beheld

them so generally in the front, that they verily believed at last, there

were twelve battalions in the army instead of two; and one of their

Generals, Broglio, in after times remarked, that "he had often wished to

be a man of six feet high, but that he became reconciled to his size

after he saw the wonders performed by the little mountaineers."[97]

It is scarcely now necessary to allude to these errors at that time

prevalent regarding the valour of the Scottish host. Tributes from every

known country have long elevated this brave and oppressed people into a

proud and honourable position. Instead, however, of the undisciplined

savages who were supposed to be traversing the country, it was sooner

found than acknowledged, that the intrepidity of the Highlanders was

united to humanity, and to upright principles. To their noble qualities

was added a deep sense of religion. In after-times it was remarked, that

no trait in the character of the Highlanders was more remarkable than

the respect which was paid by the different regiments which were

eventually employed in the British service, to their chaplains. The men

when they got into any little scrape were far more anxious, writes

General Stuart, "to conceal it from their chaplain than from their

commanding officer."

But, however the public prints might revile, and the polite society at

St. James's ridicule, and misunderstand the Highlanders, the General

whose lot it was to conquer the unfortunate Jacobites knew well of what

materials their forces were composed. The Duke of Cumberland, at the

battle of Fontenoy, had been so much pleased with the conduct of the

famous Black Watch, that he had offered them any favour which they chose

to ask, or which he could grant, to mark his approbation. The answer to

this proof of approbation was worthy of those valiant auxiliaries, who

are described by the French as "Highland furies, who rushed in upon us

with more fury than ever did a sea driven by a tempest." The Highlanders

replied, after thanking the Royal Duke for his courtesy, "that no favour

he could bestow on them would gratify them so much as to pardon a

soldier of their regiment, who lay under a sentence of court martial, by

which he was decreed to incur a heavy corporal punishment; the

infliction of which would," they said, "bring dishonour on themselves,

their friends, and their country." The request was granted. It was,

nevertheless, the countrymen of these Highlanders, men as heroic as

true, as nice in their sense of honour as the Black Watch, upon whom the

Duke wreaked the utmost of his vengeance after Culloden, whom he hunted

with bloodhounds,--whose honest hearts he broke by every possible

indignity, though their gallant spirits could never be subdued.

As the army advanced, a great multitude assembled to gaze upon the

singular spectacle. The very arms borne by the Highlanders were objects

of curiosity and surprise, no less than of alarm, to the populace, who

stood by the way-side expressing their good-will to the expedition, but

who, when asked to join the insurgents, declined, saying, "they did not

understand fighting."[98] The formidable weapons with which the

Highlanders contrived to make themselves terrible to their enemies,

consisted of a broad-sword, girded on the left side, and a dirk or short

thick dagger on the right, used only when the combat was so close as to

render the broadsword useless. In ancient times, these fierce warriors

brandished a small short-handled hatchet or axe, for the purpose of a

close fight. A gun, a pair of pistols, and a target, completed their

armour, except when ammunition failed, when they substituted for the

gun, the lochaber axe; this was a species of long lance, or pike, with a

formidable weapon at the end of it, adapted either for cutting or

stabbing. The lochaber axe had fallen into disuse since the introduction

of the musket; but a rude, yet ready substitute had been found for it,

by fixing scythes at the end of a pole, with which the Highlanders

resisted the attacks of cavalry. Such had been their arms in the early

part of the Insurrection of 1745, and such they continued until, at the

battles of Falkirk and Preston Pans, they had collected muskets from the

slain on the battle-field. In addition to these weapons, the gentlemen

sometimes wore suits of armour and coats of mail; in which, indeed, some

of the principal Jacobites have been depicted; but, with these, the

common men never incumbered themselves, both on account of the expense,

and of the weight, which was ill-adapted to their long marches and steep

hills.[99]

A distinguishing mark which the Highland Clans generally adopted, was

the badge. This was frequently a piece of evergreen, worn on the bonnet,

and placed, during the insurrection of 1745, beside the white cockade.

When Lord Lovat's men assembled near the Aird, they wore, according to

the evidence given on the State Trials, sprigs of yew in their

bonnets.[100] These badges, although generally considered to have been

peculiar to the clans, were, observes a modern writer,[101] "like

armorial bearings, common to all countries in the middle ages; and

shared by the Highlanders among the general distinctions of chivalry,

were only peculiar to them when disused by others." Thus, the broom worn

by Geoffrey Plantagenet, Count D'Anjou;--and the raspberry by Francis

the First of France, were only discontinued as an ornament to the head

when transferred to the habit, or housings; but the Highland Clans,

tenacious of their customs, wore the plant not only upon their caps, but

placed them on the head of the Clan standard. The white cockade was now

regarded as the peculiar badge of the party; yet it seems not, at all

events among the Clan Fraser, to have superseded the evergreen. Some few

traces are left, in the present day, to certify, nevertheless, that they

were worn during the contest of 1745. "Lord Hardwicke's Act, and

continual emigration," remarks John Sobieski Stuart, "have extirpated

the memory of these distinctions once as familiar as the names of those

who bore them; and all of whom I have been able to collect any evidence

are, the Macdonalds, the Macphersons, the Grants, the Frasers, the

Stuarts, and the Campbells." "The memory of most," mournfully remarks

the same writer, "has now perished among the people; but, within a

recent period, various lists have been composed--some by zealous

enthusiasts, who preferred substitution to loss, and some by the

purveyors of the carpet Highlanders, who once a-year illuminate the

splendour of a ball-room with the untarnished broadswords and silken

hose, never dimmed in the mist of a hill, or sullied in the dew of the

heather."[102]

The Macdonalds, until a very short period before the rebellion of 1715,

were known by the heather bow. "Let every man," said one of their chiefs

of old, looking round on a field of blooming heather, "put over his head

that which is under his feet." The destined sufferers of Glenco were

marked by their "having a fair busk of heather, well spread and

displayed over the head of a staff." The Clan Macgregor wore the fir;

and the Clan Grant assumed a similar badge; whilst the badge of the

Frasers is said to have been supplied for ages by a yew of vast size, in

Glen-dubh, at the head of Strath Fearg. The badge assigned to the

Macphersons was the water lily, which abounds in the Lochs of Hamkai,

upon the margin of which was the gathering place of the Clan Chattan.

Some of these distinctions appear to have been used during the year

1745, as we see in the case of the Frasers, but all to have emerged into

the one general distinction of the Jacobites, the white rose, first worn

by David the Second, at the tournament of Windsor in 1349, when he

carried the "_Rose argent_." This badge had been almost forgotten in

Scotland, until the year 1715, when it was worn by the adherents of

James Stuart, on his birthday, the tenth of June. "By the Irish

Catholics," observes the Editor of the "Vestiarium Scoticum," "it is

still worn on the same day; but in Scotland its memory is only retained

in the ballads of '15, and '45."

The Muses, who, as Burns has remarked, are all Jacobites, have

celebrated this badge in these terms:--

"O' a' the days are in the year,

The tenth o' June I lo' maist dear,

When our _white roses_ a' appear,

For the sake o' Jamie the Rover."[103]

The Highland host, after marching through Preston, to the sounds of the

bagpipes, which played "The King shall have his own again," took the

road through Wigan, towards Manchester. The Prince was informed that the

English troops had broken down the bridge at Warrington; and that

circumstance, which decided him to go through Wigan, somewhat encouraged

his naturally sanguine temper, as it showed fear on the part of the

enemy. During this march, the kind-hearted young man went on foot,

except occasionally, when we find notice of his riding a fine horse in

the public prints of the day. He usually, however, gave up his carriage

to the venerable Lord Pitsligo, and marched at the head of one of the

columns. He never took dinner, but ate a hearty supper; and then,

throwing himself upon a bed, slept until four in the morning, when he

arose, to prosecute the fatigues of another day, fatigues which youth, a

sound constitution, and, above all, a great degree of mental energy,

enabled him to endure.

Wigan, which the Chevalier's forces now approached, had been, in the

time of Queen Elizabeth, agitated by religious differences; and the

Queen's Commission for promoting the ordinances of the Reformed Church

had been there met with a vigorous resistance. During the civil wars,

this town, both from its vicinity to Latham House, and from its

attachment to Charles the First, took a distinguished part, and obtained

the characteristic designation of the "faithful and loyal town of

Wigan." After the insurrection of 1715, the oaths of supremacy and

allegiance to the reigning family had been, in vain, strongly urged upon

the inhabitants of Lancashire, and a large mass of landed estates were,

in consequence, put in jeopardy; although it does not appear that the

owners were dispossessed of their estates, or that any other use was

made of the register taken of all the landed properties in the county,

except to assist the magistrates in the suppression of the insurrection

in the north. Nevertheless, the expectation which Charles might

naturally entertain of a general rising in Lancashire was not realized.

"Nothing," observes Mr. Maxwell, "looked like a general concurrence

until he came to Manchester."[104] This was remarkable, for Manchester

had been the head-quarters of many of the Parliamentary party in

Lancashire during the civil wars; whilst Preston and Wigan had both been

royalist boroughs. But a singular alteration had taken place in the

people of Manchester, who had changed from Roundheads to Jacobites.[105]

During the whole of the preceding march the Highland army had levied

the public revenue with great accuracy; but no extortion, nor any

attempts at plunder, had disgraced their cause, nor reflected on Lord

George Murray as their General.[106]

At Manchester, the first organized force raised in England for the

Chevalier joined Charles Edward. It was a regiment of two hundred men,

commanded by Colonel Townley, a gentleman who had been in the French

service; and was called the Manchester Regiment. It was composed of

young men of the most reputable families in the town, of several

substantial farmers and tradesmen, and of about one hundred common men.

The accession of this troop gave great encouragement to the Prince; yet

there were still many who thought very badly of the enterprise, and the

advice afterwards given by Lord George Murray at Derby, to retreat, was

also whispered at Manchester, Lord George being resolved to retreat,

should there be no insurrection in England, nor landing from France. "At

Manchester, one of his friends told Lord George," relates Maxwell, "that

he thought they had entered far enough into England, since neither of

these events had happened." To this Lord George replied that they might

make a farther trial, and proceed to Derby; where, if there should be no

greater encouragement to go on, he should propose a retreat to the

Prince.[107]

The reception of Prince Charles at Manchester, was celebrated with

demonstrations of enthusiastic joy. As he marched on foot into the town,

at the head of the clans, halting to proclaim the Chevalier St. George,

King, the bells rang, and preparations were made for illuminations and

bonfires in the evening. The Prince was attended by twelve Scottish and

English noblemen: from these he was distinguished by wearing the white

cockade on the top of his cap, in the centre, instead of on the side, as

did his general officers. Peculiarly formed to grace such occasions as a

triumphal entry into an important and friendly town, Charles Edward

quickly won the good will of the female part of the community; and the

beauty and grace of the kingdom were soon, to use a phrase of a

contemporary writer, enlisted in his behalf.

To the personal attributes of the Prince, "joining the good nature of

the Stuarts with the spirit of the Sobieski," Charles Edward added one

accomplishment which the monarch then on the throne of England did not

possess: he spoke English well, although with a foreign accent: in this

last respect, he resembled some of those around him, more especially the

Duke of Perth, who, having been long abroad, in vain endeavoured to

conceal the French idiom and pronunciation by affecting a broad Scottish

dialect.[108]

Still, in spite of these advantages, and notwithstanding the known

predilection of the Lancastrians for the cause of the Stuarts, the

lowest populace alone joined the standard of Charles. One melancholy,

though admirable exception has been already referred to in the person of

Colonel Francis Townley. This gentleman was a member of an ancient

family, and the nephew of Mr. Townley, whose seat in Townley Hall,

Lancashire, lays claim to high antiquity; and yet, is modern in

comparison with a former residence, once seated on what is still called

the Castle Hill. Francis Townley was a man of literary acquirements,

which, indeed, eminently distinguished his relative, the celebrated

Charles Townley, who formed at Rome, and afterwards brought to London,

the well-known collection of marbles which was bought by the Trustees of

the British Museum for twenty thousand pounds; (supposed to be a sum far

beneath its actual value,) and which still graces that national

structure.

The family of Townley had been remarkable for their fidelity to the

Stuarts long before Colonel Francis Townley raised a troop for the

Chevalier. The grandfather of this unfortunate man, had been tried for

rebellion, in 1715, but acquitted; it was therefore very unlikely that

when his accomplished descendant espoused the same ill-starred cause,

there would be any mercy shown to a family so deeply implicated in

Jacobitism. Francis Townley was afterwards taken prisoner, and tried

with other persons, chiefly captains in the Manchester regiment. Of

these the greater number were hung on Kennington Common. The head of

Colonel Townley was severed from his body, according to sentence, after

death, and was placed upon Temple Bar; but those of most of his brothers

in arms were preserved in spirits, and sent into the country, to be

placed in public situations in Manchester and Carlisle.[109]

Prince Charles now prepared to proceed on his march to Macclesfield,

while Lord George Murray was sent with his division to Congleton. The

accompaniments of the Jacobite army, if we can venture to believe a

letter inserted in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1745, and purporting to

be written by a lady in Preston to her friend in London, formed a

singular spectacle. Four ladies of some distinction are stated in this

letter to have marched with the army. These were Lady Ogilvie, Mrs.

Murray of Broughton, a lady of great beauty and spirit, the celebrated

Jenny Cameron, and another female, unknown, but who is supposed to have

been the mistress of Sir Thomas Sheridan. The populace, nevertheless,

mistook Sheridan for a priest, and assigned to him the nick-name of the

"Archbishop of Canterbury." The first two ladies went in a chariot by

themselves; the others were in a coach and six with the young Chevalier,

to whose dejection and weariness as he passed through Preston, Jenny

Cameron is said to have administered cordials. By the same writer the

Jacobite army are described as looking like "hunted hares." Such is a

specimen of one of the ephemeral slanders of the day; and the

circumstance of the coach and six tends to disprove the whole letter.

The Prince, it is evident from every isolated account, marched on foot

until he entered Derby.[110] It was, however, perfectly true that Mrs.

Murray of Broughton and Lady Ogilvie, whose husbands were both with the

army, attended the movements of the Highland force.

And now were the merits of Lord George Murray as a General, certain very

soon to be called into active play; for, on the twenty-sixth of

November, William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, had left London at the

head of an army, to oppose the insurgents.

On the character of the royal individual who, in his twenty-fifth year

came forward to rescue his country, as it was said, from the yoke of a

foreign invader; and whose promising, but immature talents, backed by a

great military force, were effectual in defeating the skill of an

experienced General, some reflections will naturally arise.

William, Duke of Cumberland, was born in the year 1721. He very early

demonstrated that predilection for military affairs which obtained for

him from Walpole the praise of having been "one of the five only really

great men whom he had ever seen." He very soon, also, betrayed that

cruel and remorseless spirit which was wreaked on the brave and the

defenceless; that indifference to suffering which too aptly was repaid

by an indignant people with the name of "the Butcher;"--that thirst for

blood which we read of in Heathen countries, before the commandments of

the God of Israel, or the beautiful commentary of a Saviour of Mercy

upon those sacred commandments, had chastened and humanized the people.

Those tendencies which, whilst England was elate with success, and when

she gloried in a suppressed rebellion, raised the Duke of Cumberland to

a hero;--and, when reflection came, sank him to a brute; were manifested

in the dawn of youth. In after years, (what extreme of odium could be

greater?)--even children instinctively feared him. One day, when playing

with his nephew, afterwards George the Third, a child, the Duke drew a

sword to amuse him. The incident occurred long after the mouldering

bones upon the field of Culloden were whitened in the sun; long after

the brave Balmerino had suffered, and vengeance had revelled in the doom

of the beloved Kilmarnock. But the sins of the remorseless Cumberland

cried to Heaven. They were registered in the mind of a child. The boy

turned pale and trembled, and acknowledged that he thought his "uncle

Cumberland was going to kill him." The Duke shocked and deeply hurt,

referred to popular prejudice the impression which was the result of

crime.

Imperious, aspiring, independent, the grasping and able intellect of the

Duke soon imbibed a knowledge of affairs beyond his years. When scarcely

out of the nursery he loved the council chamber, and delighted in the

recitals of foreign wars. As he reached manhood, he affected a lofty and

philosophical coldness; a dangerous attribute in youth, and one which

either springs from a frigid disposition, or else infallibly contracts

the heart. But, in the case of the Duke of Cumberland, it concealed a

proud and selfish spirit, which could ill brook the superiority of his

elder brother, Frederic, Prince of Wales, or bear with temper the

popularity of another. When, in after years, his brother's death was

communicated to him, those jealous and disdainful feelings broke forth.

"It is a great blow to the country," he said, sarcastically; "but I

hope, in time, it will recover it." That want of faith in human nature,

of reverence for good motives, that absence of a generous confidence

which one can suppose strongly characterise the lost angels, were among

the many odious features in the character of this truly bad man. The

prevailing feeling of his mind was, contempt for everything and

everybody;--a contempt for renown;--a contempt, in after life, for

politics, which he conceived were below his attention; a contempt for

women, whom he lowered by a sort of preference consistent with the rest

of his coarse character, but whose modest virtues he mistrusted. With

this affectation of superiority, the Duke combined the littleness of

envy. When he had attained the height of his popularity, his

satisfaction was tarnished by the reputation of Admiral Vernon, who was

the idol of the public. As a General, his acknowledged and eminent

qualities were sullied by the German puerilities of an exact attention

to military trifles; any deficiency in etiquette was punished like a

crime: the formation of a new pattern of spatterdashes was treated as an

important event. Nor was this all. He introduced into an army of

Englishmen the German notions of military severity; he fostered a system

which it has taken nearly a century of great efforts, and good works in

the humane, to annul. "He was," says Horace Walpole, "a Draco in

legislation;" adding, "that in the Duke's amended mutiny bill the word

'Death' occurred at every clause."[111]--Such is the general colouring

of his public character. A strong and sensitive feeling with regard to

the national honour; a devoted reverence for the sovereign authority;

which were the only principles and institutions which he seemed to

respect, are the milder traits. In private, he countenanced, by his own

practice, most of those vices which scarcely existed with greater

impunity, or with less inconvenience from public opinion, in the days of

Charles the Second, than in those in which Cumberland flourished, and

left a finished model of a character without one redeeming excellence.

As a soldier, however, the merits of the Duke, if merits those can be

called which were the natural effects of animal courage, and of a

strong, remorseless mind, must be, at all events, acknowledged. He

behaved with great gallantry in his first campaign with his royal

father, and was wounded at the battle of Dettingen. At too early an age,

in 1744, he was placed at the head of a great army, in order to oppose

Marshal Saxe; and the event of the battle of Fontenoy proved the error.

But, in that engagement, the valour of the young General was admitted on

all hands. "His Royal Highness," relates the author of "The Conduct of

the Officers at Fontenoy considered," "was everywhere, and could not

without being on the spot have cheered that Highlander who with his

broad sword killed nine men, and making a stroke at the tenth, had his

arm shot off,--by a promise of something better than the arm which he,

the Duke, saw drop from him."[112]

It was with the hope of retrieving the lost reputation of the Duke at

Fontenoy, and in order to remedy the glaring defects of General Hawley,

that this young man, old in hardened feelings, but full of ardour and

courage, was sent to repel the forces of the Chevalier. It was also

thought by the Government that the placing a prince of the blood-royal

at the head of the army would have a powerful influence on the minds of

the people, and neutralize the counter-influence of Charles Edward.[113]

The Duke therefore assumed the command of an army ten thousand strong,

and set out from London to intimidate the enemy.

The Duke of Cumberland was by no means so ignorant of the force which he

was now destined to attack, as were most of the other "good people of

England, who knew as little of their neighbours of the Scottish

mountains, as they did of the inhabitants of the most remote quarter of

the globe."[114] In the battle of Fontenoy, the Duke of Cumberland had

become acquainted with the peculiar mode of fighting practised by the

Highlanders, in the manoeuvre of the "Black Watch," or 42nd; and had

shown his judgment in allowing them to fight in their own way. This

gallant regiment, in which many of the privates were gentlemen, were

exempted at this time from the service of crushing the rebellion, only

to have a duty, perhaps more cruel and more unwarrantable, forced upon

them, after the battle of Culloden. By a singular circumstance, the

Black Watch was commanded by Lord John Murray, a brother of Lord George

Murray's, Sir Robert Munro officiating as acting colonel.[115]

At Macclesfield, Prince Charles gained the intelligence that the Duke of

Cumberland had taken the command of Ligonier's army, and that he was

quartered at Lichfield, Coventry, Stafford, and Newcastle-under-Line.

The Prince then resolved to go direct to Derby; and it was to conceal

his design, and to induce the Duke to collect his whole army at

Lichfield, that Lord George Murray marched with a division of the army

to Congleton, which was the road to Lichfield. Congleton, being on the

borders of Staffordshire, was sufficiently near Newcastle-under-Line for

Lord George to send General Ker to that place to gain intelligence of

the enemy. General Ker advanced to a village about three miles from

Newcastle, and very nearly surprised a body of dragoons, who had only

time to make off. He took one prisoner, a man named Weir, who was a

noted spy, and who had been at Edinburgh during the whole of the

Prince's stay there, and had since always kept within one day's march of

the army. It was proposed to hang him; but Charles could not be brought

to consent to the measure, and insisted that Weir was not, strictly

speaking, a spy, since he wore no disguise. "I cannot tell," observes

Mr. Maxwell, "whether the Prince on this occasion was guided by his

opinion or by his inclination: I suspect the latter, because it was his

constant practice to spare his enemies when they were in his power. I

don't believe there was an instance to the contrary to be found in this

expedition."[116]

Upon the third of December, Lord George Murray with his division of the

army marched by Leek to Ashbourn; and the Prince, with the rest of the

forces, came from Macclesfield to Leek, where, considering the distance

of the two columns of his army, and the neighbourhood of the enemy, he

naturally considered his situation as somewhat precarious. It was

possible for the enemy, by a night-march, to get betwixt the two

columns; and, contemplating this danger, the Prince set out at midnight

to Ashbourn, where it was conceived that the forces should proceed in

one body towards Derby. "Thus," remarks a modern historian, "two armies

in succession had been eluded by the Highlanders; that of Wade at

Newcastle, in consequence of the weather or the old Marshal's

inactivity, and that of Cumberland through the ingenuity of their own

leaders."[117]

Charles Edward and his officers slept at Ashbourn Hall, now in the

possession of Sir William Boothby, Baronet; into whose family the estate

passed in the time of Charles the Second.[118]

The young Prince had now advanced far into that county which has no

rival in this Island in the beauty and diversity of its scenery, in the

simple, honest character of its fine peasantry, or in the rank and

influence of its landed proprietors. The history of these families is

connected with the civil, and foreign wars of the kingdom; and already

had the moors and valleys of Derbyshire been the scene of contest which

had the Restoration of the Stuarts for their aim and end. In 1644, a

battle was fought near Ashbourn, in which the Royalists were defeated;

in 1645, just a century before Charles Edward entered Ashbourn, Charles

the First had attended service in the beautiful gothic church of

Ashbourn, as he marched his army through the Peak towards Doncaster.

The inhabitants of the district retained some portion of their ancient

loyalty to the Stuarts. As Prince Charles ascended the height, from

which, leading towards Derby, a view of the town of Ashbourn, seated in

a deep valley, and of the adjacent and romantic country, may be seen,

the roads were lined with peasantry, decorated with white cockades, and

showing their sentiments by loud acclamations, bonfires, and other

similar demonstrations. "One would have thought," remarks Mr.

Maxwell,[119] "that the Prince was now at the crisis of his adventure;

that his fate, and the fate of the three kingdoms, must be decided in a

few days. The Duke of Cumberland was at Lichfield; General Wade, who was

moving up with his army along the west side of Yorkshire, was about this

time at Ferry Bridge, within two or three days' march. So that the

Prince was, with a handful of brave, indeed, but undisciplined men,

betwixt two armies of regular troops, one of them above double, the

other almost double, his number." It was owing to the skill and prudence

of Lord George Murray that this gallant but trifling force was enabled

to return to Scotland, for scarcely ever was there a handful of valiant

men placed in a situation of more imminent peril.

Derby, which is fifteen miles from Ashbourn, was thrown into the utmost

confusion and disorder when the news that the vanguard of the insurgent

army was approaching it became generally known. "The hurry," says a

contemporary writer, "was much increased by the number of soldiers, and

their immediate orders to march out of town, and nothing but distraction

was to be read in every countenance. The best part of the effects and

valuables had been sent away or secreted some days before, and most of

the principal gentlemen and tradesmen, with their wives and children,

were retiring as fast as possible."[120]

The borough of Derby, although by no means so opulent when Charles

Edward and his friends visited it as in the present day, presented,

perhaps, a far more appropriate scene for the faint and transient shadow

of a Court, than it now affords. It had, even within the memory of man,

an aspect singularly dignified, important, and antique in its streets;

and it still possesses many residences which are adapted for the higher

orders, rather than for the industrious burgesses of a town. These are

chiefly seated on the outside of the town. They were, so late as 1712,

and perhaps much later, "inhabited by persons of quality, and many

coaches were kept there." To the west, King's Mead, where formerly there

was a monastery of the Benedictine order, is now graced by a series of

stately detached residences, which, under the modernized name of Nun's

Green, constitute the court end of Derby. But, interspersed in the

streets, there are still many ancient tenements in which Prince Charles

and his high-born adherents might find suitable accommodation.

Party feeling ran high in Derby, and most of its leading and principal

denizens were Tories, and even Jacobites. It was in Derby that Henry

Sacheverell preached his famous sermon, on "Communication of Sin." This

literary firebrand was first thrown out to the High-Church party in

1709, when the High Sheriff, George Sacheverell, of Callow, was attended

by Dr. Henry Sacheverell as his chaplain, and the walls of All Saints

Church resounded with the denunciations of that vehement, and

ill-judging man. The seed that was thus sown fell into a land fertile in

High Church propensities; the Grand Jury intreated Dr. Sacheverell to

print his discourse; and, eventually, when they considered that, by the

mild sentence given against their Preacher on his trial, they had gained

a triumph, bonfires proclaimed their joy, in the market-place of that

town, where the warfare of Sacheverell had first begun.

On the accession of George the First, and when the Chevalier landed in

Scotland, fresh manifestations of the Jacobite party broke forth. The

Church of All Saints was again the scene of its display. Three principal

clergymen in the town openly espoused the Stuart cause. Sturges, the

Rector of All Saints, prayed openly for "King James"--but, after a

moment's pause, said, "I mean King George." "The congregation became

tumultuous; the military gentlemen drew their swords, and ordered him

out of the pulpit, into which he never returned."[121] Perhaps the event

which tended most to quiet the spirit of Jacobitism among the lower

classes in the town, was the erection of silk mills, in 1717. Nothing

tranquillises extreme views in politics more surely than employment; few

things attach men's minds to a Government more, than efforts crowned

with success. Notwithstanding the memory of Sacheverell, a Whig member

had been returned, in the last election, for the borough; the great

merits and influence of the House of Cavendish overpowering the

uproarious Tories, who, in vain, broke windows, and attacked their

enemies. But discontent again broke forth. The winter of 1745 found the

whole nation in a state of suffering and discontent; and many of the

constitutional securities for liberty and property had been given up, in

order to secure the stability of the throne. Taxation had been imposed,

in the worst and most unpopular form, that of excise duties, in order to

maintain an expensive Court, and to pay for Continental wars, which were

maintained to preserve the hereditary German possessions of the King.

Yet, in spite of these crying evils, such is the difficulty of inducing

Englishmen to incur the risk of forfeiture and disaster, that even the

town of Derby had diligently provided itself with a defence against the

Chevalier's divided forces, on hearing of their approach.

During the month of September 1745, in consequence of instructions from

London, the Duke of Devonshire, attended by the greatest appearance of

gentlemen ever seen in the town before, assembled the clergy, in order

to consider of such measures as were necessary for the support of the

Government. An association was entered into, and sums were liberally

contributed, after a splendid dinner, at that ungrateful inn, the

George, which, during the sojourn of Charles Edward at Derby, changed

its sign, into the safe and ambiguous title of the King's Head. Two

companies of volunteers, of six hundred men each, were raised by the

association. A proposal to call out the county militia was vehemently

negatived, probably from that spirit of distrust which pervaded the

councils of King George's Government. By an order in council, passed in

the previous September, all Roman Catholics had been prohibited from

keeping a horse of above five pounds in value, and restrained from going

five miles from their dwellings. It was, therefore, deemed advisable to

select the volunteer forces from the well-affected, and not to employ

the militia of a county so manifestly disposed to foster the young

adventurer as Derbyshire was at that time considered. During the month

of November, a great degree of alarm had disturbed the burgesses of

Derby; and from the communications of the Duke of Devonshire, then

Lord-Lieutenant of the county, to the Mayor, it appears that the young

Chevalier completely baffled the Duke of Cumberland and General Wade,

by his rapid movement into the very heart of England.[122]

So late as the twelfth of December, the Duke of Devonshire and his

eldest son, the Marquis of Hartington, were stationed at the George Inn,

to watch the event of the coming storm, and to concert means for

averting the threatened danger. Some days previously, the Duke had

reviewed a company of six hundred volunteers, together with one hundred

and twenty men raised at his own expense; and those townsmen, who were

not Jacobites, were in high spirits, concluding that the Duke of

Cumberland must have overtaken and attacked the insurgents. On the

evening of the twelfth, the soldiers were summoned to the market-place,

where they stood for some hours; they were then sent to quarters to

refresh themselves; about ten the drums beat to arms, and, being again

drawn out, these valiant defenders of the Borough marched out of the

town, by torch-light, towards Nottingham, headed by the Duke of

Devonshire.

On the following morning, about eleven, two of the vanguard of the

insurgent army rode into the town; and, after seizing a very good horse,

belonging to a Mr. Stamford, went to the George Inn, and there inquiring

for the magistrates, they demanded billets for nine thousand men, or

more.

In a short time afterwards, the vanguard itself rode into the town; this

detachment consisted of about thirty men; they are described in the

account of a cotemporary writer, probably an eye witness, as "likely

men," making a good appearance, in blue regimentals faced with red, with

scarlet waistcoats trimmed with gold lace. They posted themselves in the

Market-place, where they rested for two or three hours; at the same time

bells were rung, and bonfires made upon the pretext of "preventing any

resentment" from the rebels that might ensue upon a cold reception.

About midday, Lord George Murray, Lord Elcho, and several other chiefs

arrived, with troops to the number of one hundred and fifty, the flower

of the army, who made "a fine show." Soon afterwards the main body

marched into the town in tolerable order, six or eight abreast, with

about eight standards, most of them having a white flag with a red

cross. But the appearance of the main body was totally different to that

of the vanguard, and justified the contemptuous opinion and expectations

formed by the loyal inhabitants of Derby, of their coming foe. As they

marched along, the sound of their bagpipes was heard, for the first

time, in the crowded and ancient streets of the borough; but the dress

and bearing of these brave, but ill-accoutred men excited the derision

of the thriving population of an important country town. They were, says

the writer in the _Derby Mercury_ of the day, "a parcel of shabby,

pitiful looking fellows, mixed up with old men and boys, dressed in

dirty plaids, and as dirty shirts, without breeches, and wore their

stockings, made of plaid, not half way up their legs, and some without

their shoes, or next to none, and numbers of them so fatigued with their

long march, that they really commanded our pity more than our

fear."[123]

About five in the evening, when it was nearly dark, the Prince, with the

other column, arrived. He walked on foot, attended by a great body of

men, to a house appointed for his reception, belonging to Lord Exeter,

and seated in Full-street. Here guards were placed around the temporary

abode of the Prince; and here, during his stay at Derby, he held his

councils.

"Every house," adds the writer before quoted, "was pretty well filled

(though they kept driving in till ten or eleven at night), and we

thought we should never have seen the last of them. The Duke of Atholl

had his lodgings at Thomas Gisborne's, Esq.; the Duke of Perth at Mr.

Rivett's; Lord Elcho at Mr. Storer's; Lord Pitsligo at Mr. Meynell's;

Lord George Murray at Mr. Heathcote's; Old Gordon, of Glenbucket, at Mr.

Alderman Smith's; Lord Nairn at Mr. John Bingham's; Lady Ogilvie, Mrs.

Murray, and some other persons of distinction at Mr. Francey's; and

their chiefs and great officers were lodged in the best gentlemen's

houses.[124] Many ordinary houses both public and private, had forty or

fifty men each, and some gentlemen near one hundred."

The Prince, upon his arrival at Derby, resolved to halt for one day, and

to take the advice of his council what was to be done at this juncture.

His hopes were high, and his confidence in the good-will of the people

of England to his cause was unabated. He continued to entertain the

notion that George the Second was an usurper, for whom no man would

willingly draw his sword; that "the people of England, as was their

duty, still nourished that allegiance for the race of their native

Princes which they were bound to hold sacred, and that if he did but

persevere in his daring attempt, Heaven itself would fight in his

cause." His conversation, when at table, beneath the roof of Exeter

House, turned on the discussion "how he should enter London, whether on

foot, or on horseback, or whether in Highland or in Lowland garb."[125]

Nor was Charles Edward singular in his sanguine state of mind. It was

observed, says Mr. Maxwell, "that the army never was in better spirits

than while at Derby."[126]

The judgment which Lord George Murray had formed at Manchester,

remained, however, unaltered by all these expectations. On the following

morning, when the council met, he represented to the Prince that they

had marched so far into the country, depending on French succours, or on

an insurrection, neither of which had taken place; that the Prince's

army, by itself, was wholly unprepared to face the troops which the

"Elector of Hanover," as Lord George denominated him, had assembled.

Besides General Wade's army, which was coming to oppose them, and that

of the Duke of Cumberland, forming together a force of between seventeen

and eighteen thousand strong, there was a third army, encamped on

Finchley Common, of which George the Second was going to take the

command in person. Even supposing that the Prince should be successful

in an engagement with one of these armies, "he might be undone by a

victory." The loss of one thousand or fifteen hundred men would

incapacitate the rest of his small force from another encounter; and

supposing that he was routed in that country, he and all his friends

must unavoidably be killed. On the whole, including the army formed at

London, there would be a force of thirty thousand men to oppose an army

of five thousand fighting men; that before such a host, pursued Lord

George,[127] "it could not be supposed one man could escape; for the

militia, who had not appeared much against us hitherto, would, upon our

defeat, possess all the roads, and the enemy's horse would surround us

on all hands; that the whole world would blame us as being rash and

foolish, to venture a thing that could not succeed, and the Prince's

person, should he escape being killed in the battle, must fall into the

enemy's hands."

"His Royal Highness," continues Lord George Murray in his narrative,

"had no regard to his own danger, but pressed with all the force of

argument to go forward. He did not doubt but the justness of his cause

would prevail, and he could not think of retreating after coming so far;

and he was hopeful there might be a defection in the enemy's army, and

that several would declare for him. He was so very bent on putting all

to the risk, that the Duke of Perth was for it, since his Royal Highness

was. At last, he proposed going to Wales, instead of returning to

Carlisle, but every other officer declared his opinion for a retreat,

which some thought would be scarce practicable. I said all that I

thought of to persuade the retreat, and, indeed, the arguments to me

seemed unanswerable; and for the danger, though I owned an army upon a

retreat did not fight with equal valour as when they advanced, yet, if

the thing were agreed to, I offered to make the retreat, and be always

in the rear myself; and that each regiment would take it by turns till

we came to Carlisle; and that the army should march in such order, that

if I were attacked, I might be supported as occasion required, and

without stopping the army (except a very great body of the enemy should

be upon me), I would send aide-de-camps to desire such assistance as I

should judge the occasion would require; but that I really believed

there would be no great danger; for, as we were informed, the Duke of

Cumberland was at Stafford, and would in all appearance, that night or

next morning, be drawing near London to intercept us, so that if our

design were not mentioned till next morning that it should be put in

execution, we would be got to Ashbourn before he could have certain

information of our design to retreat."

The Prince, who was naturally bold and enterprising, and who had been

hitherto successful in every thing, was indignant at this. Since he had

set out from Edinburgh, he had never had a thought but of going on, and

fighting everything in his way to London. He had the highest idea of the

bravery of his own men, and a despicable opinion of his enemies, and

hitherto with good reason; and he was confirmed in these notions by some

of those that were nearest his person; these sycophants, more intent

upon securing his favour than promoting his interest, "were eternally

saying whatever they thought would please, and never hazarded a

disagreeable truth."[128]

A connected narrative of the proceedings in council has been given by

Lord Elcho; and, at the risk of some recapitulations, it is here

inserted, not having been previously published entire.

"The fifth, in the morning, Lord George Murray, and all the commanders

of battalions and squadrons, waited on the Prince, and Lord George told

him that it was the opinion of every body present that the Scots had now

done all that could be expected of them. That they had marched into the

heart of England, ready to join any party that would declare for him.

That none had done so, and that the counties through which the army had

passed had seemed much more enemies, than friends, to his cause. That

there were no French landed in England; and that if there was any party

in England for him, it was very odd that they had never so much as

either sent him money or intelligence, or the least advice what to do.

But if he could produce any letter from any person of distinction, in

which there was an invitation for the army to go to London, or to any

other part of England, that they were ready to go; but if nobody had

either invited them, or meddled in the least in their affairs, it was to

be supposed that there was either no party at all, or, if there was,

they did not choose to act with them, or else they would ere now have

let him know it. Suppose even the army marched on and beat the Duke of

Cumberland, yet, in the battle they must lose some men; and they had,

after that, the king's own army, consisting of seven hundred men, near

London to deal with. On the contrary, if either of these armies beat

them, there would not a man escape; as the militia, although they durst

never face the army while in a body, yet they would have courage enough

to put an end to them if ever they were routed; and so the people that

were in armies in Scotland would fall an easy sacrifice to the fury of

the Government. Again, suppose the army was to slip the King's and

Duke's army, and get into London, the success of the affair would

entirely depend on the mob's declaring for or against it; and that if

the mob had been much inclined to his cause since his march into

England, to be sure some of his friends in London would have fallen upon

some method to let him know it; but if the mob was against the affair,

four thousand five hundred men would not make a great figure in London.

Lord George concluded by saying, that the Scots army had done their

part; that they came into England at the Prince's request, to join his

English friends, and to give them courage by their appearance to take

arms and declare for him publicly, as they had done, or to join the

French if they had landed. But as none of these things had happened,

that certainly four thousand five hundred Scots had never thought of

putting a king on the English throne by themselves. So he said his

opinion was, they should go back and join their friends in Scotland, and

live and die with them.

"After Lord George had spoken, all the rest of the gentlemen present

spoke their sentiments, and they all agreed with Lord George except two

(the Duke of Perth and Sir William Gordon), who were for going to Wales

to see if the Welsh would join.

"The Prince heard all these arguments with the greatest impatience, fell

into a passion, and gave most of the gentlemen that had spoke very

abusive language; and said they had a mind to betray him. The case was,

he knew nothing about the country, nor had the smallest idea of the

force that was against him, nor how they were situated." Fully convinced

that the regular army would never dare to fight against him, and

trusting to the consciences of men more than to the broad sword of his

army, he always believed that he should enter St. James's with as little

difficulty as he had done Holyrood-house. "He continued," says Lord

Elcho, "all that day positive he would march to London. The Irish in the

army were always for what he was for, and were heard to say, that day,

'that they knew if they escaped being killed, the worst that could

happen to them was a few months imprisonment.'"

The reluctance of the unfortunate and brave young Chevalier was

increased by the evident ardour which his men, in the expectation of an

engagement with the Duke of Cumberland, were at that very instant

displaying, whilst the arguments which sealed Charles Edward's fate,

resounded within the walls of Exeter-house. The Highlanders, whose

heroism balanced the inequality of the respective forces, breathed

nothing but a desire for the combat. They were to be seen, during all

that eventful day, in crowds before the shops of the cutlers,

quarrelling who should be the first to get their swords sharpened.[129]

In the very midst of the discussions, a courier arrived from Lord John

Drummond, informing the Prince that he had landed at Montrose with his

regiment, the Scottish Brigade, newly raised in France, and some pickets

of the Irish Brigade, the rest of which would probably be in Scotland

before the letter reached the Prince.[130] But this favourable

intelligence, far from lessening the desire of Lord George to secure a

retreat, rather increased his determination to uphold that resolution;

and emboldened him to unfold to Charles Edward a plan for a Scottish

campaign, which, he thought, might be prosecuted with advantage. In

retreating to Scotland, the Prince, he argued, would have the advantage

of retiring upon his reinforcements, which included the Highlanders at

Perth, and the succours brought by Lord John Drummond. He concluded his

address by a request, in the name of the persons present, that they

should go back and join their friends in Scotland, to live or die with

their countrymen.

Two councils were held upon this important subject, for in the afternoon

the Prince convened another, to consider of the advices which the

courier sent by Lord John Drummond had brought. "The debates," observes

the Chevalier Johnstone, "were very keen." The Prince obstinately

insisted upon giving battle to the Duke of Cumberland on the next day,

the sixth; but he stood alone in that opinion. The Chiefs of Clans, who,

since the council held at Perth, had never opposed the Prince in

anything, feeling that they had now advanced too far to retreat,

nevertheless opposed the march to London. They pointed to the coldness

with which the insurgent army had hitherto been received; and asked how,

supposing by some miracle the forces were to reach London, an army of

four thousand men would appear among a population of a million people?

The Prince still insisted upon marching to London; he even opposed the

retreat, on the ground of the immense risk. The Duke of Cumberland, he

contended, would pursue them hotly, and be always at their heels.

Marshal Wade, he remarked, would certainly receive orders to intercept

the army, so that they would "be placed between two fires, and caught as

it were, in a net."

This argument was met by the assurances which have been already stated

in Lord George Murray's own language--that he would manage the retreat,

taking always the rear. That he ably and effectually fulfilled that

promise, was shown in the result.

At length the Prince, finding the greater part of the council was of

Lord George's opinion, and deserted even by the Duke of Perth, who,

after for long time resting his head on the fire-place in silence,

accorded loudly with the Clans, consented to the retreat. This assent,

wrung from him, was given with these bitter words,--"Rather than go

back," exclaimed the high-spirited young man, "I would wish to be twenty

feet under ground.[131] Henceforth," he added, haughtily, "I will hold

no more Councils, for I am accountable to no one for my actions, except

to my father."

The usual double-dealing, and factious contention of party, succeeded

this painful scene in the council. "After the council was dismissed,"

says Mr. Maxwell,[132] "some of those who had voted against the retreat,

and the Secretary, who had spoken warmly for it in private conversation

with the Prince, condemned this resolution, and endeavoured to instil

some suspicion of the courage and fidelity of those who had promoted it.

The Prince was easily persuaded that he had been too complaisant in

consenting to a retreat, but would not retract the consent he had given,

unless he could bring back those to whom he had given it over to his own

sentiments; which he hoped he might be able to do, since the Secretary

had altered his opinion. With this view he called another meeting of the

Council, in the evening, but found all the rest, to a man, firm in their

former sentiments; upon which, the Prince gave up a second time his own

opinion and inclination, to the advice and desire of his Council."

The character of one individual was, however, elicited in this affair.

"From this time," observes Mr. Maxwell,[133] "the Secretary ceased to be

in odour of sanctity with those that were not highly prejudiced in his

favour. The little knave appeared plainly in his conduct on this

occasion. He argued strenuously for the retreat, because he thought it

the only prudent measure, till he found it was carried by a great

majority, and would certainly take place; and then he condemned it, to

make his court to the Prince, to whom it was disagreeable, and lay the

odium upon other people, particularly Lord George, whom he endeavoured

to blacken on every occasion." Some people will wonder that this

bare-faced conduct did not open the Prince's eyes as to the baseness of

Secretary Murray's heart; "but," says Maxwell, "if we consider that

Murray was in the highest degree of favour, the steps by which he rose

to it, and the arts he used to maintain himself and exclude everybody

that could come in competition with him, he will easily conceive how he

got the better of any suspicions his behaviour might have created at

this time."

The question, whether the arguments of Lord George Murray were guided by

wisdom, or whether they might be better characterised as the result of a

cold, and, in this case, unworthy prudence, has been very differently

canvassed.

"There are not a few," observes Mr. Maxwell, "who still think the Prince

would have carried his point had he gone on from Derby; they build much

upon the confusion there was at London, and the panic which prevailed

among the Elector's troops at this juncture.[134] It is impossible to

decide with any degree of certainty, whether he would or would not have

succeeded,--that depended upon the disposition of the Army and of the

City of London, ready to declare for the Prince. What could he do with

four thousand four hundred men, suppose he got to London, whatever were

the dispositions of the Army and the City? It is certain the Prince had

no intelligence from either. This leads me to examine the conduct of the

Prince's friends in England. The cry was general against them about this

time in the Prince's army, and they are still exclaimed against by

foreigners, who, having but a very superficial knowledge of these

affairs, conclude that either the English are all become Hanoverians,

or, if there are still some that have an English heart, they must be

strangely degenerated, since they did not lay hold of this opportunity

of shaking off the German yoke. Though I am convinced the Prince had a

great many well-wishers in England, and though it is my opinion he would

have succeeded had they all declared for him, nevertheless I cannot join

in the cry against them, no more than I can condemn abundance of his

friends in Scotland who did not join him. I have told elsewhere upon

what a slender foundation this expedition was undertaken. Murray had

imposed upon the Prince, and hurried him into it, without concerting

anything with England. The English had always insisted upon a body of

regular troops, not under seven and not above twelve thousand effective

men. They saw the Prince in England with a handful of militia, which

they could never think a match for thirty thousand regular troops. It is

true the English have, in former times, taken arms upon less

encouragement and less provocation than they had met with of late; but

in those days the common people were accustomed to arms, and the

insurgents were as good soldiers as any that could be brought against

them."

Such is the reasoning of an eye-witness. One thing is certain,

contemporary writers appear to have generally acquiesced in the

propriety of the retreat; and that circumstance constitutes the

strongest evidence in favour of the step. Yet, viewing events at this

distance of time, and taking into account the panic which seized, not

only the public mind, but which affected the heads of the Government on

hearing of the bold and rapid march of the insurgents, our faith in the

wisdom of a retreat is weakened. In the night when it was announced in

the fashionable circles of St. James's that the Prince had reached

Derby, a general consternation was diffused throughout society. A lady

of the highest rank, who was in one of the assemblies of the day,

related to one of her descendants that upon the intelligence reaching

the party where she was, the rooms were instantly cleared, and on the

following morning there was not a carriage to be seen in London.

Nor were these apprehensions confined to any particular sphere.[135] The

arrival of the troops at Derby was known in London on the ninth of

December, henceforth called by the English "Black Monday." Many of the

inhabitants fled in terror from the metropolis, taking their treasures

with them; the shops were closed: people thronged to the bank to obtain

payment of its notes, and it only escaped bankruptcy by the following

stratagem. Those who came first being entitled to priority of payment,

the managers of the bank took care to be surrounded by agents with

notes, to whom their pretended claims were paid in sixpences to gain

time. These agents went out by one door and came back by another, so

that the _bona fide_ holders of notes could never get near enough to

present them; and the bank stood out by these means until the panic had

died away. King George even embarked all his most precious effects on

his yachts, which were stationed in the Tower-quay, in readiness to

convey him away, should the dreaded Highlanders, as it now began to be

generally expected, march to London in a few days. The "moneyed

corporations," according to Smollett, were all in the deepest dejection;

they reflected that the Highlanders, of whom they had conceived a most

terrible idea, were within four days' march of the capital; they

anticipated a revolution ruinous to their own prosperity, and were

overwhelmed with dismay.

"I was assured," writes the Chevalier Johnstone, (who differed from his

General, Lord George,) "on good authority, when I was in London, some

time after our unfortunate defeat, that the Duke of Newcastle, then

Secretary of State for the War Department, remained inaccessible in his

own house the whole of the 6th of December, weighing in his mind the

part which it would be most prudent for him to take, and even uncertain

whether he should not instantly declare himself for the Pretender. It

was even said at London, that fifty thousand men had actually left that

city to meet the Prince and join his army, and every body in the capital

was of opinion, that, if we had beaten the Duke of Cumberland, the army

of Finchley Common would have dispersed of its own accord, and that by

advancing rapidly to London, we might have taken possession of that city

without the least resistance from the inhabitants, and without

exchanging a single shot with the soldiers. Thus a revolution would have

been effected in England, so glorious for the few Scotchmen by whom it

was attempted, and altogether so surprising, that the world would not

have comprehended it. It is true, the English were altogether ignorant

of the number of our army, from the care we took in our marches to

conceal it; and it was almost impossible for their spies ever to

discover it, as we generally arrived in the towns at nightfall, and left

them before the break of day. In all the English newspapers our numbers

were uniformly stated as high as twelve or fifteen thousand men. Under

such circumstances, some temporary advantages might have been gained by

marching southwards; for it is now believed that the Jacobite party in

England were much more numerous than we have generally understood; and

that thousands would have flocked to the standard of Charles Edward had

he been accompanied by a sufficient force to authorise the expectation

of his success."

The British administration was, it is true, devoid of men of talent or

principle, and discontent and distress prevailed in the country. In the

City of London, the Jacobite party was very strong; its member was

Alderman Heathcote, who, with Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, had announced to

Lord Temple his determination to rise immediately upon a landing of

troops from France.[136] The prevalence of Jacobite principles among

the English gentry is supposed to have infected many officers in the

royal army, who might have avowed them at any crisis in the public

affairs; many were, at all events, suspected of Jacobite principles;

"and the mere suspicion," remarks Lord Mahon, "would have produced

nearly the same effects as the reality,--bewilderment, distrust, and

vacillation in the chiefs." "Had, then, the Highlanders combined to push

forward," observes this able writer, "must not the increasing terror

have palsied all power of resistance? Would not the little army at

Finchley, with so convenient a place for dispersing as the capital

behind it, have melted away at their approach?"

In confirmation of this surmise may be quoted an anecdote which is

related of a company of the celebrated Black Watch, which had been

exempted during the insurrection of 1745 from serving against their

countrymen; more than three hundred of the regiment having brothers and

relations engaged in the Jacobite army.[137] But it was afterwards

employed on a service which might well have been assigned to others;--to

execute the decrees of burning, and to lay waste the districts where the

forefathers of these brave men had lived. On marching one company of

this famous regiment out of London, the Highlanders, on arriving at

Hounslow, suddenly became immovable; they halted, and refused to

proceed, or to bear arms against their countrymen. Their commanders, in

dismay, turned to the chaplain of the regiment, to use his influence.

The clergyman then in office happened to be Ferguson, the celebrated

astronomer. He mounted on a temporary rostrum or pulpit, harangued the

Highlanders, and, after an emphatic address, prevailed on them to march

forward.

Such were some of the difficulties which the English Government

encountered. To this may be added, the defenceless state of the coasts

of Kent and Essex. The French ministers were now in "the very crisis of

decision as to their projected expedition." The preparations at Dunkirk

were completed; and had Charles Edward, by advancing, shown that such

aid was only a secondary matter in his favour, their fleet would have

set sail. Besides, the Jacobites in England were by no means in so

apathetic and subdued a condition as that which has been generally

represented.[138]

"I believe then," emphatically remarks Lord Mahon, "that had Charles

marched onward from Derby he might have gained the British throne; but I

am far from thinking that he would long have held it."

"Whether he (Charles Edward)," says Sir Walter Scott, "ought ever to

have entered England, at least without collecting all the forces which

he could command, is a very disputable point; but it was clear, that

whatever influence he might for a time possess, arose from the boldness

of his advance. The charm, however, was broken the moment he showed, by

a movement in retreat, that he had undertaken an enterprise too

difficult for him to achieve."[139]

In the opinion of the Chevalier Johnstone, whose judgment was formed

under the influence of Lord George Murray, much of the failure of the

expedition was owing to the inactivity of Lord John Drummond, who ought,

according to his statement, to have advanced by forced marches to the

assistance of Prince Charles. Nor was this the only error of that

zealous, but inexperienced general: through his representations, the

false intelligence that an army of ten thousand men was awaiting him in

Scotland, was conveyed to the Prince; the disembarkation of this force

was continually and confidently expected. "The first thing we did in the

morning," says Chevalier Johnstone, "was to see whether the wind was

favourable;" and this delusive expectation had a very great influence in

deciding the resolution taken at Derby to retreat to Scotland.

Whatever were the reasons which actuated the council of war, the result

was, in the first instance, both painful to those who promoted the

decision of the question, and highly obnoxious to the army. Arrangements

were, however, made to keep the proposed retreat as secret as possible,

both in order to baffle the Duke of Cumberland and not to irritate the

Highlanders. Yet the design was soon penetrated by those who were intent

upon every movement of their superiors. Lord George Murray, in his

journal, describes the sensation which the projected retreat occasioned,

in the following terms.[140] "Our resolution was to be kept secret, as

it was of great consequence the enemy should have the intelligence of

our march as late as possible. Yet, in the afternoon, one Sir John

Macdonald, an Irish officer in the French service who had come over with

the Prince, came where Lochiel, and Keppoch and I were talking together,

and railed a great deal about our retreat. 'What!' says he to Keppoch,

'a Macdonald turn his back?' and to Lochiel, 'For shame; a Cameron run

away from the enemy! Go forward, and I'll lead you.' This gentleman was

old, and had dined heartily, for he was much subject to his bottle: we

endeavoured to persuade him that he was mistaken, but he still insisted,

and said he had certain information of it. To tell the truth, I believe

he liked his quarters and entertainment better in England than in

Scotland, and would rather have been taken than return; for he thought,

as he was in the French service, he did not run the same risk as others

did. Some people, seeing the Prince so much cast down about the retreat,

to ingratiate themselves, blamed the resolution; and though they had in

the morning, as much as any body, given their hearty concurrence in the

measure, and had exprest themselves so; yet, as they saw the retreat

would certainly be put in execution, though they appeared against it,

they thought proper to say that their reason for agreeing to it was

because they knew the army would never fight well when the officers were

against it. Sir Thomas Sheridan and his Royal Highness's secretary acted

this part. And the Duke of Atholl, who had not been present in the

morning, when the Prince sent for him in the afternoon, and spoke to

him, seemed much for going forwards. In the evening, when this was

understood by the rest of the officers, they told his Royal Highness

that they valued their lives as little as brave men ought to do; and if

he inclined to go forward they would do their duty to the last, but

desired that those that advised his Royal Highness to go forward would

sign their opinion, which would be a satisfaction to them. This put a

stop to all underhand dealings, and the Duke of Atholl when he heard

others upon the same subject, was fully satisfied as to the necessity of

the measure."

The town of Derby presented, during its occupation by the Jacobites, a

singular scene. The Highlanders, hitherto maintaining a character for

good order, now broke loose upon the townsmen of a city, which they,

perhaps, began to consider as their own. They took the opportunity of

replenishing themselves with gloves, buckles, powder-flasks,

handkerchiefs, &c., which they demanded from the tradespeople, whose

shops they entered. Being refreshed with a good night's rest, they ran

about from house to house, until the town looked as if it were the

resort of some Highland fair. "If they liked a person's shoes better

than their own," relates a contemporary writer, "nothing was more common

for them than to demand them off their feet, and not to give them

anything, or what they asked for them." This insolence grew upon the

forbearance of the townsmen, who dared not to resist martial law. Even

the medical profession did not escape an unwilling participation in the

concerns of the Jacobites. Dr. Hope, a physician residing in the town,

and a member of the highly-respectable family there, was summoned to

attend one of the sojourners in Exeter-house. The tradition which has

preserved this anecdote among the descendants of Dr. Hope, has not

specified the name of the invalid. The physician was told that he must

go instantly: he was blindfolded, and led by armed men into the presence

of his patient, without knowing whither he was conducted; a precaution,

it may be presumed, adopted to prevent a refusal.

The church of All Saints witnessed what its Protestant ministers must

have viewed with indignation and sorrow. Prayers were ordered to be said

at six o'clock in the evening, when a Roman Catholic clergyman entered

the sacred edifice, and performed the service according to the ritual of

his church.[141]

In addition to these impolitic acts of a short-lived power,

proclamations were made by the Town Crier, levying the excise duties;

and a demand of one hundred pounds was made upon the post-office. In

other quarters, even these forms were omitted, and plunder and outrage,

which, says the author of the Derby Mercury, "were they to be stated

would fill our paper," were mercilessly committed. Nevertheless, such

was the tendency of the town of Derby to Jacobite principles, that,

among the higher orders, the brief appearance of the young and

unfortunate adventurer was long remembered with interest, and his fate

recalled with regret. The ladies of Derby vied with each other in making

white cockades, of delicate and costly workmanship, to present to the

hero of the day. To some of these admiring votaries he presented his

picture, a dangerous gift in after-times, when a strict system of

scrutiny prevailed; and when even to be suspected of Jacobite principles

was an effectual barrier to all promotion in offices, and a severe

injury to those in trade. One of these Jacobite ladies[142] is known by

her family to have kept the portrait of the Prince behind the door of

her bedchamber, carefully veiled from any but friendly inspection.

Early on the morning of Friday, the sixth of December, the drums beat to

arms, and the bagpipes were heard playing in different parts of the

town: the forces, it was expected by the townsmen, were thus summoned to

continue their march to Loughborough, a town full of Jacobites, who were

known to have been pledging the young adventurer's health on their bare

and bended knees.[143] The retreat was begun in such haste, and attended

with such confusion, that many of the Highlanders left their arms behind

them, where they were quartered.

At nine o'clock, Prince Charles, in deep dejection, was seen mounted on

a black horse, which had belonged to the brave Colonel Gardiner;--to

quit Exeter-house, and, crossing the market-place, to proceed to

Broken-row; he then turned through Sadler Gate, towards Ashbourn; he was

followed by the main body of his army. Before eleven o'clock, Derby, so

lately resembling, in its busy streets, the animated scene of a Highland

fair, was totally cleared of all the Highland troops. But the

consternation of the inhabitants paralyzed them. On that day no market

was held, as usual; nor did the bells toll to church on the next Sunday;

nor was divine service performed in any of the numerous and fine

churches which grace the town.[144]

The retreat, thus begun under such inauspicious circumstances, was left

solely to the guidance of the General who had so earnestly recommended

it; and Lord George Murray took the sole management of it. In the dawn

of the morning, when some of the troops had begun their march, the

Highlanders did not perceive in which direction they were marching; they

believed that they were going to give the Duke of Cumberland battle.

When they discovered that they were in retreat, a murmur of lamentation

ran through the ranks. "The inferior officers," Lord Elcho relates,[145]

"were much surprised when they found the army moving back, and imagined

some bad news had been received; but, when they were told everything,

and found the army had marched so far into England without the least

invitation from any Englishman of distinction, they blamed their

superiors much for carrying them so far, and approved much of going back

to Scotland. They had all along imagined they were marching to join the

English, and were acting in concert with them. To the common men it was

given out the army was going to meet their friends from Scotland, and to

prevent Marshal Wade from getting in between them, whose army was at

Wetherby and Doncaster."

The influence, however, of these contradictory reports upon the common

men was soon conspicuous. The march was at first regular enough; but the

whole bearing of the Highlanders was changed. Dispirited and indignant,

they became reckless in their conduct: they lingered on the way, and

committed outrages of which but few instances had been heard during

their march southwards. Lord George Murray found it difficult to keep

his army together. "In the advance," observes Sir Walter Scott, "they

showed the sentiments of brave men, come, in their opinion, to liberate

their fellow-citizens; in the retreat, they were caterans, returning

from a creagh." The cause which they had adopted, had lost, from this

moment, all hope, though the mournful interest attached to it still

remained, perhaps, with increasing force.

In order to conceal the retreat as long from the enemy as possible, a

party of horse was ordered to advance some miles in the direction of

Lichfield, where the Duke of Cumberland was posted; and, to keep up the

delusion, powder was distributed among the army. It was also insinuated

that Wade was at hand, and that they were going to fight him; but when

the soldiers found themselves on the road to Ashbourn they suspected the

truth, and became still more sullen and dejected. Another artifice

adopted to raise their spirits was a report, circulated purposely among

them, that the reinforcements expected from Scotland were on their road,

and that having met these, near Preston the army would resume its march

southwards. This project, however distasteful to Lord George Murray,

was, it seems, seriously entertained by the Prince.

And now commenced the difficulties of that undertaking in which Lord

George had pledged himself to conduct an army of little more than six

thousand men, in the depth of winter, in safety to Scotland, although in

the neighbourhood of two great armies. The management of this retreat

has been a subject of admiration to all competent judges of military

affairs; it has conferred lasting honour on the capacity of Lord George

Murray as a General.

It was of the greatest importance, under his circumstances, that Lord

George should know of the movements and intentions of the enemy; and

such was his system, such his address, in employing spies and

emissaries, that he was always informed of what took place in the armies

of the Duke and General Wade. One of his principal agents was Hewett, a

butcher in Derby; who, from his local knowledge, could tell many

particulars of the country-gentlemen, as well as of the movements of the

Duke and his formidable forces.[146]

The Highland army arrived on the night of the sixth at Ashbourn, on the

following day they reached Leek, on the ninth they arrived at

Manchester, where a great revulsion of feeling had taken place. The

"Hanoverian mob," to use the expression of Mr. Maxwell, were determined

to dispute the Prince's entrance; but when his vanguard appeared, these

noisy heroes were instantly silenced.[147] From Manchester the Prince

proceeded to Wigan, and thence to Preston, where he halted on the

twelfth. Here the disappointed young man recurred to his cherished

project, that of having reinforcements sent from Scotland, under

Viscount Strathallan, who had been left in command at Perth, and those

also under Lord John Drummond. Upon his arrival at Preston, he sent the

Duke of Perth into Scotland to bring them with the utmost expedition. He

was resolved to retire no further until he met them, and then to march

directly for London, casting his whole chance of success upon the event

of that step.

Among the generals and chiefs of this army a different sentiment had now

arisen. A safe retreat was their object, and the subject of universal

attention. Hitherto there had been little or no danger; it was

impossible for the enemy to overtake the army before it had reached

Preston; but between Preston and Carlisle it was practicable for the

enemy's cavalry to come up with the Prince's army during that march.

There was even a greater danger to be apprehended than the pursuit of

the Duke. Marshal Wade had left his position at Newcastle-upon-Tyne,

having been ordered by the Duke to place himself between the insurgent

forces and Scotland, in order to cut off the retreat. There were in

those days but few roads, or even passes in the mountainous regions of

Cumberland and Westmoreland, by which a regular army could march. There

was, however, an excellent road from Newcastle to Penrith, a town

through which Wade might march his army, and where he could arrive a day

or two before the Prince, and intercept his retreat.

On the fifteenth the Prince arrived at Kendal, and here Lord George

Murray, taking a body of life-guards, went in person to reconnoitre the

position of the enemy. He brought back several prisoners, who gave him

all the information of which he was desirous. From what was thus

gathered, Lord George perceived that the whole cavalry of Wade's army

might possibly overtake the Highland forces before they could reach

Carlisle; he therefore represented to the Prince the propriety of

sacrificing the cannon and heavy baggage to the safety of the men; since

the mountainous journey from Kendal to Penrith rendered the transit of

such carriages very difficult. But the Prince was determined that his

retreat should have the air of retiring, not of flying; he was resolved

not to leave a single piece of his cannon; he would rather fight both

armies than give such a proof of weakness. He issued peremptory orders

that the march should be continued as before, and that not a single

carriage should be left at Kendal.

The dissensions between Charles Edward and Lord George Murray had now

ripened into reproaches on the one hand, answered by something not

unlike taunts on the other. The former had cherished a predilection for

battles ever since his victory at Glandsmuir, and he often broke out

into expressions of anger towards his General, for his having prevented

his fighting the Duke of Cumberland at Derby. As they quitted Kendal,

Lord George observed to Charles, "Since your Royal Highness is always

for battles, be the circumstances what they may; I now offer you one, in

three hours from this time, with the army of Marshal Wade, who is only

three miles distant from this place." The Prince made no reply, but

mounted into his carriage. All his ardour in marching at the head of the

Clans was gone; he had become listless, careless, and dejected since the

retreat. The army were dispirited by his gloomy and mournful aspect; and

a still greater degree of difficulty and responsibility devolved

therefore upon their General. On the sixteenth of December the army

slept at Shap, and on the seventeenth the Prince arrived at Penrith; but

the artillery, and the regiment of the Macdonalds of Glengarry, could

only reach Shap by nightfall.

On the following morning Lord George proceeded towards Penrith. Scarcely

had he begun his march when he saw a number of the enemy's light horse

hovering about, but not venturing within musket-shot. About midday, as

the Highland army began to ascend an eminence about half-way between

Shap and Penrith, they discovered cavalry riding two and two abreast on

the top of the hill. These instantly disappeared, but the noise of the

kettle-drums and trumpets announced that they were only on the other

side of the hill, and that they were probably forming in order of

battle. Lord George was in the rear of the Highland army.

The advanced guard stopped at the foot of the hill, when suddenly they

formed a resolution to advance sword in hand on the enemy, without

informing Lord George of their resolution. On arriving at the summit of

the hill, the party whose kettle-drums and trumpets had caused such an

alarm, were found to be only three hundred light horse and chasseurs,

who instantly fled. One prisoner only was made, a man who fell from his

horse. It was desirable, on all accounts, to have preserved the life of

this person, but the fury of the Highlanders was such that he was

instantly cut to pieces.

After this alarm, this detachment of the Highland army resumed their

march: the appearance of the light horse had, however, begotten an

impression that Wade's forces were not far distant. The Chevalier

Johnstone, more especially, had strong misgivings on the subject; his

fears were confirmed by his serjeant Dickson, who called his attention

to something black on a hill about three miles distant. This appearance,

which every one else regarded as bushes, was soon found to be the

English army, slowly but surely advancing. Before the vanguard could

recover the surprise, the Duke of Cumberland, who had pursued them with

forced marches, fell upon the Macdonalds, who were in the rear, with

fury. Fortunately the road running between thorn hedges and ditches, the

English cavalry could not act in such a manner as to surround the army,

nor present a larger front than the breadth of the road.

The Highlanders instantly ran to the enclosures in which the English

were, fell on their knees, and began to cut down the hedges with their

dirks. This precaution was necessary, for their limbs were unprotected

by anything lower than their kilts. During this operation, they

sustained the fire of the English with admirable firmness. As soon as

the hedges were cut down, they jumped into the enclosures sword in hand,

and broke the English battalions. A fierce and deadly contest ensued.

The English were nearly cut to pieces without quitting their ground.

Platoons might, indeed, be seen, composed of forty or fifty men falling

beneath the Highlanders, yet they remained firm, closing up their ranks,

as fast as an opening was made by the broad-swords of the Highlanders.

This remarkable attack was made in person by Lord George Murray, at the

head of the Macphersons, whom he ordered to charge. At length the

English dragoons were driven from their posts, and closely pursued until

they arrived at the moor where their main body was planted. In this

"scuffle" the Macphersons lost only twelve men; about one hundred of the

English were killed or wounded. A footman in the service of the Duke of

Cumberland was the only prisoner made by the Highlanders. This man

declared that his royal master would have been killed, if the pistol,

with which a Highlander took aim at his head, had not missed fire.

Prince Charles, with much courtesy, sent him back instantly to the

Duke.[148]

Such is a brief account of the engagement which Lord George Murray calls

a "little skirmish," but which must have afforded, at all events, some

notion of Highland valour to the Duke of Cumberland and his dragoons.

But, independent of the dauntless bravery of the Macphersons, to the

skill of Lord George Murray may be attributed much of the success of the

action. Before the firing began, he contrived, by rolling up his

colours, and causing them to be carried half open to different places,

to deceive the enemy with regard to the numbers of the Highland force;

and to make them conclude that the whole of the army was posted in the

village of Clifton. With about a thousand men in all, he contrived to

defeat five hundred dragoons, backed by a great body of cavalry, all

well disciplined troops. The moon, which was in its second quarter,

appeared at intervals during the close of the action, and gave but a

fitful light, being often over-clouded, so that the combatants fought

almost in gloom, except for a few minutes at a time. The English, being

all on horseback, were just visible to their foes, but the "little

Highlanders" were in darkness. "We had the advantage," observes Lord

George, "of seeing their disposition, but they could not see ours."[149]

This encounter had the effect of saving the Prince and the whole army.

"It was lucky," calmly remarks Lord George Murray, "that I made that

stand at Clifton, for otherwise the enemy would have been at our heels,

and come straight to Penrith, where, after refreshing two or three

hours, they might have come up with us before we got to Carlisle."[150]

Lord George was in imminent danger during the action at Clifton.

Fortunately, an old man, Glenbucket, who was very infirm, remained at

the end of the village on horseback. He entreated Lord George to be very

careful, "for if any accident happened, he would be blamed." "He gave

me," relates Lord George, "his targe; it was convex, and covered with a

plate of metal, which was painted; the paint was cleared in two or

three places, with the enemy's bullets; and, indeed, they were so thick

about me, that I felt them hot about my head, and I thought some of them

went through my hair, which was about two inches long, my bonnet having

fallen off."[151]

In this skirmish Lord George commanded the Glengarry regiment, who had

remained, at the General's request, in the rear, to guard the baggage.

The officers, observes Lord George, "behaved to my wish, and punctually

obeyed the orders they received. That very morning, however, the

Glengarry regiment had told Lord George that they would not have stayed

three days behind the rest of the army to guard the baggage for any man

but himself." The Stewarts, of Appin, were also among the most valiant

of the combatants; but the most signal instances of courage were shown

by Macpherson of Clunie, and his fierce band.

This unfortunate chief was engaged in the insurrection of 1715; that

circumstance had been overlooked by Government; and, in the very year

1745, he had been appointed to a company in Lord Loudon's regiment, and

had taken the oaths to Government. His clan were, however, anxious to

espouse the cause of Charles Edward. Whilst Clunie wavered, his honour

requiring the fulfilment of his oaths, his affections, and his

hereditary principles leading him to follow Charles, his wife, although

a stanch Jacobite, and a daughter of Lord Lovat, entreated him not to

break his oaths, and represented that nothing would end well which began

with perjury. She was overruled by the friends of Clunie, and he

hastened to his ruin.[152]

The victorious General remained at Clifton half an hour after all the

other officers had proceeded to Penrith. This circumstance disproved a

statement given in the English newspapers, which intimated that the

Highlanders had been beaten from their post at Clifton. On the contrary,

"I heard," observed Lord George, "that the enemy went a good many miles

for quarters, and I am persuaded they were as weary of that day's

fatigue as we could be."

Upon arriving at Penrith, Lord George found the Prince much pleased with

what had occurred. He was, however, just taking horse for Carlisle. On

the next day, after staying a very short time at Penrith to refresh,

Lord George joined Charles Edward in that city, which had yielded so

short a time previously to his arms; and here various circumstances

occurred which sufficiently show the discord which prevailed in the

councils of the young Chevalier.

During the march, the young Prince had manifested a lofty sense of his

own honour; but it was combined with a great degree of obstinacy in some

respects, almost accompanied by puerility. Disgusted with the retreat,

indignant with the promoter of that step, bent upon returning to

England, unhappy, discouraged, and distracted by evil counsels, the

Prince had plainly shown, that he would controvert the opinions of Lord

George in every possible instance. He had lingered so late in the

morning before leaving his quarters, as to detain the rear, which that

General commanded, long after the van. This was a great inconvenience,

and difficult for an impetuous temper to tolerate. The Prince not only

refused to allow the army to be eased of any of the ammunition, being

resolved "rather to fight both their armies than to give such a proof of

his weakness;"[153] but he carried that order to an extreme, behaving as

a petulant young man, who exerts power more in anger than from

reflection. The march thus encumbered had been made with a degree of

difficulty and fatigue which tried the patience of the soldiers, who

were obliged, in one instance, to drag, like horses, the heavy waggons,

in order to get them through a stream of water where there was a narrow

pass, and a steep ascent.[154]

No enemy had molested the troops after they left Penrith; and it

appeared evident that, at that time, the Duke of Cumberland had no

intention of coming to a pitched battle, but intended only to take

advantage of the disorder which he might suppose would have attended the

retreat of an army of militia.

On arriving at Carlisle, a council of war was held. Lord George Murray

was in favour of evacuating Carlisle, but his influence was overruled.

"I had been so much fatigued," he remarks, "for some days before, that I

was very little at the Prince's quarters that day." It was, however,

determined to leave a garrison in Carlisle, for Prince Charles had set

his heart upon returning to England. He, therefore, placed in the castle

Mr. Hamilton, whilst the unfortunate Mr. Townley commanded the town.

"This," remarks Mr Maxwell,[155] "was perhaps the worst resolution that

the Prince had taken hitherto. I cannot help condemning it, though there

were specious pretexts for it." It would, indeed, have been highly

advantageous for the Prince to have retained one of the keys of England;

and he might have hoped to return before the place could be retaken. Of

this, however, he could not be certain; and he was undoubtedly wrong in

exposing the lives of the garrison without an indispensable necessity,

which, according to Maxwell, did not exist; for "blowing up the castle,

and the gates of the town might equally have given him an entry into

England."

The day after the Prince had arrived in Carlisle, he left it, and

proceeded northwards. One cause of this, apparently, needless haste was,

the state of the river Esk, about seven miles from Carlisle; it was, by

a nearer road, impassable. This stream, it was argued, might be swollen

by a few hours rain, and then it could not be forded. The Prince might

thus be detained at Carlisle; and he had now become extremely impatient

to know the exact state of his affairs in Scotland; to collect his

forces, in order to return to England. Letters from Lord John Drummond

had re-assured him of the good will of the Court of France--that

delusive hope was not even then extinct. Advice from Viscount

Strathallan had imparted excellent accounts of the army in Scotland.

Under these circumstances, Charles hastened forward, and encountered the

difficult passage over the Esk. Hope again gladdened the heart of one

for whose errors, when we consider the stake for which he fought, and

the cherished wishes of his youth, too little allowance has been made.

But, in the eyes of others, the prospect of the young Chevalier's return

to England was regarded as wholly visionary; and the planting a garrison

in the dilapidated fortress of Carlisle, was deemed indifference to the

fate of his adherents who remained, unwillingly, and certain of their

doom. "The retreat from Derby was considered throughout England,"

observes Sir Walter Scott, "as the close of the rebellion: as a

physician regards a distemper to be nearly overcome, when he can drive

it from the stomach and nobler parts, into the extremities of the

body."[156]

The army, after marching from three o'clock in the morning until two in

the afternoon, arrived on the borders of the Esk. This river, which is

usually shallow, had already been swollen by an incessant rain of

several days, to the depth of four feet. It was, therefore, necessary to

cross it instantly, for fear of a continuation of the rain, and an

increase of the danger. The passage over the Esk was admirably

contrived; it could only have been effected by Highlanders. The cavalry

formed in the river, to break the force of the current, about

twenty-five paces above the ford where the infantry were to pass. Then

the Highlanders plunged into the water, arranging themselves into ranks

of ten or twelve a-breast, with their arms locked in such a manner as to

support one another against the rapidity of the river, leaving

sufficient intervals between their ranks for the passage of the water.

"We were nearly a hundred men a-breast," writes Lord George

Murray;[157] "and it was a very fine show. The water was big, and most

of the men breast-high. When I was near across the river, I believe

there were two thousand men in the water at once: there was nothing seen

but their heads and shoulders; but there was no danger, for we had

crossed many waters, and the ford was good; and Highlanders will pass a

water where horses will not, which I have often seen. They hold by one

another, by the neck of the coat, so that if one should fall, he is in

no danger, being supported by the others, so all went down, or none."

The scene must have been extremely singular. "The interval between the

cavalry," remarks an eyewitness, "appeared like a paved street through

the river, the heads of the Highlanders being generally all that was

seen above the water. Cavalry were also placed beneath the ford, to pick

up all those who might be carried away by the current. In an hour's time

the whole army had passed the river Esk; and the boundary between

England and Scotland was again passed."[158]