Though the sceptre had departed from the House of Stuart, it was
reserved for one of its last descendants to prove to the world, by his
personal gallantry and noble spirit of enterprise, that he at least had
not degenerated from his royal line of ancestors. The daring effort of
Charles Edward to recover the crown of these kingdoms for his father, is
to us the most remarkable incident of the last century. It was
honourable alike to the Prince and to those who espoused his cause; and,
even in a political point of view, the outbreak ought not to be
deplored, since its failure put an end for ever to the dynastical
struggle which, for more than half a century, had agitated the whole of
Britain, established the rule of law and of social order throughout the
mountainous districts of Scotland, and blended Celt and Saxon into one
prosperous and united people. It was better that the antiquated system
of clanship should have expired in a blaze of glory, than gradually
dwindled into contempt; better that the patriarchal rule should at once
have been extinguished by the dire catastrophe of Culloden, than that it
should have lingered on, the shadow of an old tradition. There is
nothing now to prevent us from dwelling with pride and admiration on the
matchless devotion displayed by the Highlanders, in 1745, in behalf of
the heir of him whom they acknowledged as their lawful king. No feeling
can arise to repress the interest and the sympathy which is excited by
the perusal of the tale narrating the sufferings of the princely
wanderer. That un-bought loyalty and allegiance of the heart, which
would not depart from its constancy until the tomb of the Vatican had
closed upon the last of the Stuart line, has long since been transferred
to the constitutional sovereign of these realms; and the enthusiastic
welcome which has so often greeted the return of Queen Victoria to her
Highland home, owes its origin to a deeper feeling than that dull
respect which modern liberalism asserts to be the only tribute due to
the first magistrate of the land.
The campaign of 1745 yields in romantic interest to none which is
written in history. A young and inexperienced prince, whose person was
utterly unknown to any of his adherents, landed on the west coast of
Scotland, not at the head of a foreign force, not munimented with
supplies and arms, but accompanied by a mere handful of followers, and
ignorant of the language of the people amongst whom he was hazarding his
person. His presence in Scotland had not been urged by the chiefs of the
clans, most of whom were deeply averse to embarking in an enterprise
which must involve them in a war with so powerful an antagonist as
England, and which, if unsuccessful, could only terminate in the utter
ruin of their fortunes. This was not a cause in which the whole of
Scotland was concerned. Although it was well known that many leading
families in the Lowlands entertained Jacobite opinions, and although a
large proportion of the common people had not yet become reconciled to,
or satisfied of, the advantages of the Union, by which they considered
themselves dishonoured and betrayed, it was hardly to be expected that,
without some fair guarantee for success, the bulk of the Scottish nation
would actively bestir themselves on the side of the exiled family.
Besides this, even amongst the Highlanders there was not unanimity of
opinion. The three northern clans of Sutherland, Mackay, and Monro, were
known to be staunch supporters of the Government. It was doubtful what
part might be taken in the struggle by those of Mackenzie and Ross. The
chiefs of Skye, who could have brought a large force of armed men into
the field, had declined participating in the attempt. The assistance of
Lord Lovat, upon whom the co-operation of the Frasers might depend,
could not be calculated on with certainty; and nothing but hostility
could be expected from the powerful sept of the Campbells. Under such
circumstances, it is little wonder if Cameron of Locheill, the most
sagacious of all the chieftains who favoured the Stuart cause, was
struck with consternation and alarm at the news of the Prince's
landing, or that he attempted to persuade him from undertaking an
adventure so seemingly hopeless. Mr. Robert Chambers, in his admirable
history of that period, does not in the least exaggerate the importance
of the interview, on the result of which the prosecution of the war
depended. "On arriving at Borrodale, Locheill had a private interview
with the Prince, in which the probabilities of the enterprise were
anxiously debated. Charles used every argument to excite the loyalty of
Locheill, and the chief exerted all his eloquence to persuade the Prince
to withdraw till a better opportunity. Charles represented the present
as the best possible opportunity, seeing that the French general kept
the British army completely engaged abroad, while at home there were no
troops but one or two newly-raised regiments. He expressed his
confidence that a small body of Highlanders would be sufficient to gain
a victory over all the force that could now be brought against him; and
he was equally sure that such an advantage was all that was required to
make his friends at home declare in his favour, and cause those abroad
to send him assistance. All he wanted was that the Highlanders should
begin the war. Locheill still resisted, entreating Charles to be more
temperate, and consent to remain concealed where he was, till his
friends should meet together and concert what was best to be done.
Charles, whose mind was wound up to the utmost pitch of impatience, paid
no regard to this proposal, but answered that he was determined to put
all to the hazard. 'In a few days,' said he, 'with the few friends I
have, I will raise the royal standard, and proclaim to the people of
Britain that Charles Stuart is come over to claim the crown of his
ancestors--to win it, or to perish in the attempt! Locheill--who, my
father has often told me, was our firmest friend--may stay at home, and
learn from the newspapers the fate of his Prince!' 'No!' said Locheill,
stung by so poignant a reproach, and hurried away by the enthusiasm of
the moment; 'I will share the fate of my Prince, and so shall every man
over whom nature or fortune has given me any power.' Such was the
juncture upon which depended the civil war of 1745; for it is a point
agreed, says Mr. Home, who narrates this conversation, that if Locheill
had persisted in his refusal to take arms, no other chief would have
joined the standard, and the spark of rebellion must have been instantly
extinguished." Not more than twelve hundred men were assembled in
Glenfinnan on the day when the standard was unfurled by the Marquis of
Tullibardine, and, at the head of this mere handful of followers,
Charles Edward commenced the stupendous enterprise of reconquering the
dominions of his fathers.
With a force which, at the battle of Preston, did not double the above
numbers, the Prince descended upon the Lowlands, having baffled the
attempts of General Cope to intercept his march--occupied the city of
Perth and the town of Dundee, and finally, after a faint show of
resistance on the part of the burghers, took possession of the ancient
capital of Scotland, and once more established a court in the halls of
Holyrood. His youth, his gallantry, and the grace and beauty of his
person, added to a most winning and affable address, acquired for him
the sympathy of many who, from political motives, abstained from
becoming his adherents. Possibly certain feelings of nationality, which
no deliberate views of civil or religious policy could altogether
extirpate, led such men to regard, with a sensation akin to pride, the
spectacle of a prince descended from the long line of Scottish kings,
again occupying his ancestral seat, and restoring to their country,
which had been utterly neglected by the new dynasty, a portion of its
former state. No doubt a sense of pity for the probable fate of one so
young and chivalrous was often present to their minds, for they had
thorough confidence in the intrepidity of the regular troops, and in the
capacity of their commander; and they never for a moment supposed that
these could be successfully encountered by a raw levy of undisciplined
Highlanders, ill-armed and worse equipped, and without the support of
any artillery.
The issue of the battle of Prestonpans struck Edinburgh with amazement.
In point of numbers the two armies were nearly equal, but in every thing
else, save personal valour, the royal troops had the advantage. And yet,
_in four minutes_--for the battle is said not to have lasted
longer--the Highlanders having only made one terrific and impetuous
charge--the rout of the regulars was general. The infantry was broken
and cut to pieces; the dragoons, who behaved shamefully on the occasion,
turned bridle and fled, without having once crossed swords with the
enemy. Mr. Chambers thus terminates his account of the action: "The
general result of the battle of Preston may be stated as having been the
total overthrow and almost entire destruction of the royal army. Most of
the infantry, falling upon the park walls of Preston, were there huddled
together, without the power of resistance, into a confused drove, and
had either to surrender or to be cut to pieces. Many, in vainly
attempting to climb over the walls, fell an easy prey to the ruthless
claymore. Nearly 400, it is said, were thus slain, 700 taken, while only
about 170 in all succeeded in effecting their escape.
"The dragoons, with worse conduct, were much more fortunate. In falling
back, they had the good luck to find outlets from their respective
positions by the roads which ran along the various extremities of the
park wall, and they thus got clear through the village with little
slaughter; after which, as the Highlanders had no horse to pursue them,
they were safe. Several officers, among whom were Fowkes and Lascelles,
escaped to Cockenzie and along Seton Sands, in a direction contrary to
the general flight.
"The unfortunate Cope had attempted, at the first break of Gardiner's
dragoons, to stop and rally them, but was borne headlong, with the
confused bands, through the narrow road to the south of the enclosures,
notwithstanding all his efforts to the contrary. On getting beyond the
village, where he was joined by the retreating bands of the other
regiment, he made one anxious effort, with the Earls of Loudoun and
Home, to form and bring them back to charge the enemy, now disordered by
the pursuit; but in vain. They fled on, ducking their heads along their
horses' necks to escape the bullets which the pursuers occasionally sent
after them. By using great exertions, and holding pistols to the heads
of the troopers, Sir John and a few of his officers induced a small
number of them to halt in a field near St. Clement's Wells, about two
miles from the battle-ground. But, after a momentary delay, the
accidental firing of a pistol renewed the panic, and they rode off once
more in great disorder. Sir John Cope, with a portion of them, reached
Channelkirk at an early hour in the forenoon, and there halted to
breakfast, and to write a brief note to one of the state-officers,
relating the fate of the day. He then resumed his flight, and reached
Coldstream that night. Next morning he proceeded to Berwick, whose
fortifications seemed competent to give the security he required. He
everywhere brought the first tidings of his own defeat."
This victory operated very much in favour of Prince Charles. It secured
him, for a season, the undisputed possession of Scotland, and enabled
numerous adherents from all parts of the country to raise such forces as
they could command, and to repair to his banner. His popularity in
Edinburgh daily increased, as the qualities of his person and mind
became known; and such testimony as the following, with respect to his
estimation by the fair sex, and the devotion they exhibited in his
cause, is not overcharged. "His affability and great personal grace
wrought him high favour with the ladies, who, as we learn from, the
letters of President Forbes, became generally so zealous in his cause,
as to have some serious effect in inducing their admirers to declare for
the Prince. There was, we know for certain, a Miss Lumsden, who plainly
told her lover, a young artist, named Robert Strange, that he might
think no more of her unless he should immediately join Prince Charles,
and thus actually prevailed upon him to take up arms. It may be added
that he survived the enterprise, escaped with great difficulty, and
married the lady. He was afterwards the best line-engraver of his time,
and received the honour of knighthood from George III. White ribbons and
breastknots became at this time conspicuous articles of female attire in
private assemblies. The ladies also showed considerable zeal in
contributing plate and other articles for the use of the Chevalier at
the palace, and in raising pecuniary subsidies for him. Many a
posset-dish and snuff-box, many a treasured necklace and repeater, many
a jewel which had adorned its successive generations of family
beauties, was at this time sold or laid in pledge, to raise a little
money for the service of Prince Charlie."
As to the motives and intended policy of this remarkable and unfortunate
young man, it may be interesting to quote the terms of the proclamation
which he issued on the 10th October, 1745, before commencing his march
into England. Let his history be impartially read, his character, as
spoken to by those who knew him best, fairly noted, and I think there
cannot be a doubt that, had he succeeded in his daring attempt, he would
have been true to the letter of his word, and fulfilled a pledge which
Britain never more required than at the period when that document was
penned:--
"Do not the pulpits and congregations of the clergy, as well as your
weekly papers, ring with the dreadful threats of popery, slavery,
tyranny, and arbitrary power, which are now ready to be imposed upon you
by the formidable powers of France and Spain? Is not my royal father
represented as a bloodthirsty tyrant, breathing out nothing but
destruction to all who will not immediately embrace an odious religion?
Or have I myself been better used? But listen only to the naked truth.
"I, with my own money, hired a small vessel. Ill-supplied with money,
arms, or friends, I arrived in Scotland, attended by seven persons. I
publish the King my father's declaration, and proclaim his title, with
pardon in one hand, and in the other liberty of conscience, and the most
solemn promises to grant whatever a free Parliament shall propose for
the happiness of a people. I have, I confess, the greatest reason to
adore the goodness of Almighty God, who has in so remarkable a manner
protected me and my small army through the many dangers to which we were
at first exposed, and who has led me in the way to victory, and to the
capital of this ancient kingdom, amidst the acclamations of the King my
father's subjects. Why, then, is so much pains taken to spirit up the
minds of the people against this my undertaking?
"The reason is obvious; it is, lest the real sense of the nation's
present sufferings should blot out the remembrance of past misfortunes,
and of the outcries formerly raised against the royal family. Whatever
miscarriages might have given occasion to them, they have been more than
atoned for since; and the nation has now an opportunity of being secured
against the like in future.
"That our family has suffered exile during these fifty-seven years
everybody knows. Has the nation, during that period of time, been the
more happy and flourishing for it? Have you found reason to love and
cherish your governors as the fathers of the people of Great Britain and
Ireland? Has a family, upon whom a faction unlawfully bestowed the
diadem of a rightful prince, retained a due sense of so great a trust
and favour? Have you found more humanity and condescension in those who
were not born to a crown, than in my royal forefathers? Have their ears
been open to the cries of the people? Have they, or do they consider
only the interests of these nations? Have you reaped any other benefit
from them than an immense load of debt? If I am answered in the
affirmative, why has their government been so often railed at in all
your public assemblies? Why has the nation been so long crying out in
vain for redress against the abuse of Parliaments, upon account of their
long duration, the multitude of placemen, which occasions their
venality, the introduction of penal laws, and, in general, against the
miserable situation of the kingdom at home and abroad? All these, and
many more inconveniences, must now be removed, unless the people of
Great Britain be already so far corrupted that they will not accept of
freedom when offered to them, seeing the King, on his restoration, will
refuse nothing that a free Parliament can ask for the security of the
religion, laws, and liberty of his people.
"It is now time to conclude; and I shall do it with this reflection.
Civil wars are ever attended with rancour and ill-will, which party rage
never fails to produce in the minds of those whom different interests,
principles or views, set in opposition to one another. I, therefore,
earnestly require it of my friends to give as little loose as possible
to such passions: this will prove the most effectual means to prevent
the same in the enemies of my royal cause. And this my declaration will
vindicate to all posterity the nobleness of my undertaking, and the
generosity of my intentions."
There was much truth in the open charges preferred in this declaration
against the existing government. The sovereigns of the house of Hanover
had always shown a marked predilection for their Continental
possessions, and had proportionally neglected the affairs of Britain.
Under Walpole's administration the imperial Parliament had degenerated
from an independent assembly to a junta of placemen, and the most
flagitious system of bribery was openly practised and avowed. It was not
without reason that Charles contrasted the state of the nation then,
with its position when under the rule of the legitimate family; and had
there not been a strong, though, I think, unreasonable suspicion in the
minds of many, that his success would be the prelude to a vigorous
attack upon the established religions of the country, and that he would
be inclined to follow out in this respect the fatal policy of his
grandfather, Charles would in all probability have received a more
active and general support than was accorded to him. The zeal with which
the Episcopalian party in Scotland espoused his cause, naturally gave
rise to the idea that the attempt of the Prince was of evil omen to
Presbytery; and the settlement of the Church upon its present footing
was yet so recent, that the sores of the old feud were still festering
and green. The established clergy, therefore, were, nearly to a man,
opposed to his pretensions; and one minister of Edinburgh, at the time
when the Highland host was in possession of the city, had the courage to
conclude his prayer nearly in the following terms--"Bless the king; Thou
knows what king I mean--may his crown long sit easy on his head. And as
to this young man who has come among us to seek an earthly crown, we
beseech Thee in mercy to take him to Thyself, and give him a crown of
glory!" At the same time, it is very curious to observe, that the most
violent sect of Presbyterians, who might be considered as the
representatives of the extreme Cameronian principle, and who had early
seceded from the Church, and bitterly opposed the union of the kingdoms,
were not indisposed, on certain terms, to coalesce with the Jacobites.
It is hardly possible to understand the motives which actuated these
men, who appear to have regarded each successive government as equally
obnoxious. Some writers go the length of averring that, in 1688, a
negociation was opened by one section of the Covenanters with Lord
Dundee, with the object of resistance to the usurpation of William of
Orange, and that the project was frustrated only by the death of that
heroic nobleman. Sir Walter Scott--a great authority--seems to have been
convinced that such was the case; but, in the absence of direct proof,
I can hardly credit it. It is perfectly well known that a conspiracy was
formed by a certain section of the Cameronian party to assassinate Lords
Dundee and Dunfermline whilst in attendance at the meeting of Estates;
and, although the recognition of William as king might not have been
palatable to others who held the same opinions, it would be a strange
thing if they had so suddenly resolved to assist Dundee in his efforts
for the exiled family. But the political changes in Scotland, more
especially the union, seem to have inspired some of these men with a
spirit of disaffection to the government; for, according to Mr.
Chambers, the most rigid sect of Presbyterians had, since the
revolution, expressed a strong desire to coalesce with the Jacobites,
with the hope, in case the house of Stuart were restored, to obtain what
they called a covenanted king. Of this sect one thousand had assembled
in Dumfriesshire at the first intelligence of the insurrection, bearing
arms and colours, and supposed to contemplate a junction with the
Chevalier. But these religionists were now almost as violently distinct
from the Established Church of Scotland as ever they had been from those
of England and Rome, and had long ceased to play a prominent part in the
national disputes. The Established clergy, and the greater part of their
congregations, were averse to Charles upon considerations perfectly
moderate, at the same time not easy to be shaken.
On commencing his march into England, Charles found himself at the head
of an army of between five thousand and six thousand men, which force
was considered strong enough, with the augmentations it might receive on
the way, to effect the occupation of London. Had the English Jacobites
performed their part with the same zeal as the Scots, it is more than
probable that the attempt would have been crowned with success. As it
was, the Prince succeeded in reducing the strong fortified town of
Carlisle, and in marching, without opposition, through the heart of
England, as far as Derby, within one hundred miles of the metropolis.
But here his better genius deserted him. Discord had crept into his
councils; for some of the chiefs became seriously alarmed at finding
that the gentry of England were not prepared to join the expedition, but
preferred remaining at home inactive spectators of the contest. Except
at Manchester, they had received few or no recruits. No tidings had
reached them from Wales, a country supposed to be devoted to the cause
of King James, whilst it was well known that a large force was already
in arms to oppose the clans. Mr. Chambers gives us the following
details. "At a council of war held on the morning of the 5th December,
Lord George Murray and the other members gave it as their unanimous
opinion that the army ought to return to Scotland. Lord George pointed
out that they were about to be environed by three armies, amounting
collectively to about thirty thousand men, while their own forces were
not above five thousand, if so many. Supposing an unsuccessful
engagement with any of these armies, it could not be expected that one
man would escape, for the militia would beset every road. The Prince, if
not slain in the battle, must fall into the enemy's hands: the whole
world would blame them as fools for running into such a risk. Charles
answered, that he regarded not his own danger. He pressed, with all the
force of argument, to go forward. He did not doubt, he said, that the
justice of his cause would prevail. He was hopeful that there might be a
defection in the enemy's army, and that many 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. These are nearly the words of Lord George Murray.
We are elsewhere told that the Prince condescended to use entreaties to
induce his adherents to alter their resolution. 'Rather than go back,'
he said, 'I would wish to be twenty feet under ground!' His chagrin,
when he found his councillors obdurate, was beyond all bounds. The
council broke up, on the understanding that the retreat was to commence
next morning, Lord George volunteering to take the place of honour in
the rear, provided only that he should not be troubled with the
baggage."
This resolution was received by the army with marks of unequivocal
vexation. Retreat, in their estimation, was little less than overthrow;
and it was most galling to find that, after all their labours, hazards,
and toils, they were doomed to disappointment at the very moment when
the prize seemed ready for their grasp. That the movement was an
injudicious one is, I think, obvious. We are told, upon good authority,
"that the very boldness of the Prince's onward movement, especially
taken into connexion with the expected descent from France, had at
length disposed the English Jacobites to come out; and many were just on
the point of declaring themselves, and marching to join his army, when
the retreat from Derby was determined on. A Mr. Barry arrived in Derby
two days after the Prince left it, with a message from Sir Watkin
William Wynne and Lord Barrymore, to assure him, in the names of many
friends of the cause, that they were ready to join him in what manner he
pleased, either in the capital, or every one to rise in his own county.
I have likewise been assured that many of the Welsh gentry had actually
left their homes, and were on the way to join Charles, when intelligence
of his retreat at once sent them all back peaceably, convinced that it
was now too late to contribute their assistance. These men, from the
power they had over their tenantry, could have added materially to his
military force. In fact, from all that appears, we must conclude that
the insurgents had a very considerable chance of success from an onward
movement--also, no doubt, a chance of destruction, and yet not worse
than what ultimately befell many of them--while a retreat broke in a
moment the spell which their gallantry had conjured up, and gave the
enemy a great advantage over them."
One victory more was accorded to Prince Charles, before his final
overthrow. After successfully conducting his retreat to Scotland,
occupying Glasgow, and strengthening his army by the accession of new
recruits, he gave battle to the royal forces under General Hawley at
Falkirk, and, as at Preston, drove them from the field. The parties were
on this occasion fairly matched, there being about eight thousand men
engaged on either side. The action was short; and, though not so
decisive as the former one, gave great confidence to the insurgents. It
has been thus picturesquely portrayed by the historian of the
enterprise: "Some individuals, who beheld the battle from the steeple of
Falkirk, used to describe these, its main events, as occupying a
surprisingly brief space of time. They first saw the English army enter
the misty and storm-covered muir at the top of the hill; then saw the
dull atmosphere thickened by a fast-rolling smoke, and heard the pealing
sounds of the discharge; immediately after, they beheld the discomfited
troops burst wildly from the cloud in which they had been involved, and
rush, in far-spread disorder, over the face of the hill. From the
commencement of what they styled 'the break of the battle,' there did
not intervene more than ten minutes--so soon may an efficient body of
men become, by one transient emotion of cowardice, a feeble and
contemptible rabble.
"The rout would have been total, but for the three out-flanking
regiments. These not having been opposed by any of the clans, having a
ravine in front, and deriving some support from a small body of
dragoons, stood their ground under the command of General Huske and
Brigadier Cholmondley. When the Highlanders went past in pursuit, they
received a volley from this part of the English army, which brought them
to a pause, and caused them to draw back to their former ground, their
impression being that some ambuscade was intended. This saved the
English army from destruction. A pause took place, during which the bulk
of the English infantry got back to Falkirk. It was not until Lord
George Murray brought up the second line of his wing and the pickets,
with some others on the other wing, that General Huske drew off his
party, which he did in good order."
The seat of war was now removed to the North. The month of April, 1746,
found Prince Charles in possession of Inverness, with an army sorely
dwindled in numbers, and in great want of necessaries and provisions.
Many of the Highlanders had retired for the winter to their native
glens, and had not yet rejoined the standard. The Duke of Cumberland,
who now commanded the English army, with a reputation not diminished by
the unfortunate issue of Fontenoy, was at the head of a large body of
tried and disciplined troops, in the best condition, and supported by
the powerful arm of artillery. He effected the passage of the Spey, a
large and rapid river which intersects the Highlands, without
encountering any opposition, and on the 15th of the month had arrived at
Nairn, about nine miles distant from the position occupied by his
kinsman and opponent. His superiority in point of strength was so great
that the boldest of the insurgent chiefs hesitated as to the policy of
giving immediate battle, and nothing but the desire of covering
Inverness prevented the council from recommencing a further retreat into
the mountains, where they could not have been easily followed, and where
they were certain to have met with reinforcements. As to the Prince, his
confidence in the prowess of the Highlanders was so unbounded, that,
even with such odds against him, he would not listen to a proposal for
delay.
There yet remained, says Mr. Chambers, before playing the great stake of
a pitched battle, one chance of success by the irregular mode of warfare
to which the army was accustomed, and Charles resolved to put it to
trial. This was a night-attack upon the camp of the Duke of Cumberland.
He rightly argued that if his men could approach without being
discovered, and make a simultaneous attack in more than one place, the
royal forces, then probably either engaged in drinking their commander's
health (the 15th happened to be the anniversary of the Duke's birthday,
and was celebrated as such by his army), or sleeping off the effects of
the debauch, must be completely surprised and cut to pieces, or at least
effectually routed. The time appointed for setting out upon the march
was eight in the evening, when daylight should have completely
disappeared, and, in the mean time, great pains were taken to conceal
the secret from the army.
This resolution was entered into at three in the afternoon, and orders
were given to collect the men who had gone off in search of provisions.
The officers dispersed themselves to Inverness and other places, and
besought the stragglers to repair to the muir. But, under the influence
of hunger, they told their commanders to shoot them, if they pleased,
rather than compel them to starve any longer. Charles had previously
declared, with his characteristic fervour, that though only a thousand
of his men should accompany him, he would lead them on to the attack,
and he was not now intimidated when he saw twice that number ready to
assist in the enterprise, though some of his officers would willingly
have made this deficiency of troops an excuse for abandoning what they
esteemed at best a hazardous expedition. Having given out for watchword
the name of his father, he embraced Lord George Murray, who was to
command the foremost column, and, putting himself at the head of that
which followed, gave the order to march.
The attempt proved peculiarly unfortunate, and, from the fatigue which
it occasioned to the Highlanders, contributed in a great degree towards
the disaster of the following day. The night chanced to be uncommonly
dark, and as it was well known that Cumberland had stationed spies on
the principal roads, it became necessary to select a devious route, in
order to effect a surprise. The columns, proceeding over broken and
irregular ground, soon became scattered and dislocated: no exertions of
the officers could keep the men together, so that Lord George Murray at
two o'clock found that he was still distant three miles from the hostile
camp, and that there were no hopes of commencing the attack before the
break of day, when they would be open to the observation of the enemy.
Under these circumstances a retreat was commenced; and the scheme, which
at one time seemed to hold out every probability of success, was
abandoned.
"The Highlanders returned, fatigued and disconsolate, to their former
position, about seven in the morning, when they immediately addressed
themselves to sleep, or went away in search of provisions. So scarce was
food at this critical juncture, that the Prince himself, on retiring to
Culloden House, could obtain no better refreshment than a little bread
and whisky. He felt the utmost anxiety regarding his men, among whom
the pangs of hunger, upon bodies exhausted by fatigue, must have been
working effects most unpromising to his success; and he gave orders,
before seeking any repose, that the whole country should now be
mercilessly ransacked for the means of refreshment. His orders were not
without effect. Considerable supplies were procured, and subjected to
the cook's art at Inverness; but the poor famished clansmen were
destined never to taste these provisions, the hour of battle arriving
before they were prepared."
About eleven in the forenoon, the troops of Cumberland were observed
upon the eastern extremity of the wide muir of Culloden, and
preparations were instantly made for the coming battle. The army had
been strengthened that morning by the arrival of the Keppoch Macdonalds
and a party of the Frasers; but even with these reinforcements the whole
available force which the Prince could muster was about five thousand
men, to oppose at fearful odds an enemy twice as numerous, and heavily
supported by artillery. Fortune on this day seemed to have deserted the
Prince altogether. In drawing out the line of battle, a most unlucky
arrangement was made by O'Sullivan, who acted as adjutant, whereby the
Macdonald regiments were removed from the right wing--the place which
the great clan Colla has been privileged to hold in Scottish array ever
since the auspicious battle of Bannockburn. To those who are not
acquainted with the peculiar temper and spirit of the Highlanders, and
their punctilio upon points of honour and precedence, the question of
arrangement will naturally appear a matter of little importance. But it
was not so felt by the Macdonalds, who considered their change of
position as a positive degradation, and who further looked upon it as an
evil omen to the success of the battle. The results of this mistake will
be explained immediately.
Just before the commencement of the action, the weather, which had
hitherto been fair and sunny, became overcast, and a heavy blast of rain
and sleet beat directly in the faces of the Highlanders. The English
artillery then began to play upon them, and, being admirably served,
every discharge told with fearful effect upon the ranks. The chief
object of either party at the battle of Culloden seems to have been to
force its opponent to leave his position, and to commence the attack.
Cumberland, finding that his artillery was doing such execution, had no
occasion to move; and Charles appears to have committed a great error in
abandoning a mode of warfare which was peculiarly suited for his troops,
and which, on two previous occasions, had proved eminently successful.
Had he at once ordered a general charge, and attempted to silence the
guns, the issue of the day might have been otherwise: but his
unfortunate star prevailed.
"It was not," says Mr. Chambers, "till the cannonade had continued
nearly half an hour, and the Highlanders had seen many of their kindred
stretched upon the heath, that Charles at last gave way to the necessity
of ordering a charge. The aide-de-camp intrusted to carry his message to
the Lieutenant-general--a youth of the name of Maclachlan--was killed by
a cannon-ball before he reached the first line, but the general
sentiment of the army, as reported to Lord George Murray, supplied the
want, and that general took it upon him to order an attack without
Charles's permission having been communicated.
"Lord George had scarcely determined upon ordering a general movement,
when the Macintoshes, a brave and devoted clan, though not before
engaged in action, unable any longer to brook the unavenged slaughter
made by the cannon, broke from the centre of the line, and rushed
forward through smoke and snow to mingle with the enemy. The Athole men,
Camerons, Stuarts, Frasers, and Macleans also went on, Lord George
Murray heading them with that rash bravery befitting the commander of
such forces. Thus, in the course of one or two minutes, the charge was
general along the whole line, except at the left extremity, where the
Macdonalds, dissatisfied with their position, hesitated to engage.
"The action and event of the onset were, throughout, quite as dreadful
as the mental emotion which urged it. Notwithstanding that the three
files of the front line of English poured forth their incessant fire of
musketry--notwithstanding that the cannon, now loaded with grapeshot,
swept the field as with a hailstorm--notwithstanding the flank fire of
Wolfe's regiment--onward, onward went the headlong Highlanders, flinging
themselves into, rather than rushing upon, the lines of the enemy,
which, indeed, they did not see for smoke, till involved among the
weapons. All that courage, all that despair could do, was done. It was a
moment of dreadful and agonising suspense, but only a moment--for the
whirlwind does not reap the forest with greater rapidity than the
Highlanders cleared the line. Nevertheless, almost every man in their
front rank, chief and gentleman, fell before the deadly weapons which
they had braved; and, although the enemy gave way, it was not till every
bayonet was bent and bloody with the strife.
"When the first line had thus been swept aside, the assailants continued
their impetuous advance till they came near the second, when, being
almost annihilated by a profuse and well-directed fire, the shattered
remains of what had been before a numerous and confident force began to
give way. Still a few rushed on, resolved rather to die than forfeit
their well-acquired and dearly-estimated honour. They rushed on; but not
a man ever came in contact with the enemy. The last survivor perished as
he reached the points of the bayonets."
Some idea of the determination displayed by the Highlanders in this
terrific charge may be gathered from the fact that, in one part of the
field, their bodies were afterwards found in layers of three and four
deep. The slaughter was fearful, for, out of the five regiments which
charged the English, almost all the leaders and men in the front rank
were killed. So shaken was the English line, that, had the Macdonald
regiments, well-known to yield in valour to none of the clans, come up,
the fortune of the day might have been altered. But they never made an
onset. Smarting and sullen at the affront which they conceived to have
been put upon their name, they bore the fire of the English regiments
without flinching, and gave way to their rage by hewing at the heather
with their swords. In vain their chiefs exhorted them to go forward:
even at that terrible moment the pride of clanship prevailed. "My God!"
cried Macdonald of Keppoch, "has it come to this, that the children of
my tribe have forsaken me!" and he rushed forward alone, sword in hand,
with the devotion of an ancient hero, and fell pierced with bullets.
The Lowland and foreign troops which formed the second line were
powerless to retrieve the disaster. All was over. The rout became
general, and the Prince was forced from the field, which he would not
quit, until dragged from it by his immediate bodyguard.
Such was the last battle, the result of civil war, which has been fought
on British soil. Those who were defeated have acquired as much glory
from it as the conquerors--and even more, for never was a conquest
sullied by such deeds of deliberate cruelty as were perpetrated upon the
survivors of the battle of Culloden. It is not, however, the object of
the present paper to recount these, or even the romantic history or
hairbreadth escapes of the Prince, whilst wandering on the mainland and
through the Hebrides. Although a reward of thirty thousand pounds--an
immense sum for the period--was set upon his head--although his secret
was known to hundreds of persons in every walk of life, and even to the
beggar and the outlaw--not one attempted to betray him. Not one of all
his followers, in the midst of the misery which overtook them, regretted
having drawn the sword in his cause, or would not again have gladly
imperilled their lives for the sake of their beloved Chevalier. "He
went," says Lord Mahon, "but not with him departed his remembrance from
the Highlanders. For years and years did his name continue enshrined in
their hearts and familiar to their tongues, their plaintive ditties
resounding with his exploits and inviting his return. Again, in these
strains, do they declare themselves ready to risk life and fortune for
his cause; and even maternal fondness--the strongest, perhaps, of all
human feelings--yields to the passionate devotion to Prince Charlie."
The subsequent life of the Prince is a story of melancholy interest. We
find him at first received in France with all the honours due to one
who, though unfortunate, had exhibited a heroism rarely equalled and
never surpassed: gradually he was neglected and slighted, as one of a
doomed and unhappy race, whom no human exertion could avail to elevate
to their former seat of power; and finally, when his presence in France
became an obstacle to the conclusion of peace, he was violently arrested
and conveyed out of the kingdom. There can be little doubt that
continued misfortune and disappointment had begun very early to impair
his noble mind. For long periods he was a wanderer, lost sight of by his
friends and even by his father and brother. There are fragments of his
writing extant which show how poignantly he felt the cruelty of his
fortune. "De vivre et pas vivre est beaucoup plus que de mourir!" And
again, writing to his father's secretary, eight years after Culloden, he
says--"I am grieved that our master should think that my silence was
either neglect or want of duty; but, in reality, my situation is such
that I have nothing to say but imprecations against the fatality of
being born in such a detestable age." An unhappy and uncongenial
marriage tended still more to embitter his existence; and if at last he
yielded to frailties, which inevitably insure degradation, it must be
remembered that his lot had been one to which few men have ever been
exposed, and the magnitude of his sufferings may fairly be admitted as
some palliation for his weakness.
To the last, his heart was with Scotland. The following anecdote was
related by his brother, Cardinal York, to Bishop Walker, the late
Primus of the Episcopal Church of Scotland:--"Mr. Greathead, a personal
friend of Mr. Fox, succeeded, when at Rome in 1782 or 1783, in obtaining
an interview with Charles Edward; and, being alone with him for some
time, studiously led the conversation to his enterprise in Scotland, and
to the occurrences which succeeded the failure of that attempt. The
Prince manifested some reluctance to enter upon these topics, appearing
at the same time to undergo so much mental suffering, that his guest
regretted the freedom he had used in calling up the remembrance of his
misfortunes. At length, however, the Prince seemed to shake off the load
which oppressed him; his eye brightened, his face assumed unwonted
animation, and he entered upon the narrative of his Scottish campaigns
with a distinct but somewhat vehement energy of manner--recounted his
marches, his battles, his victories, his retreats, and his
defeats--detailed his hairbreadth escapes in the Western Isles, the
inviolable and devoted attachment of his Highland friends, and at length
proceeded to allude to the terrible penalties with which the chiefs
among them had been visited. But here the tide of emotion rose too high
to allow him to go on--his voice faltered, his eyes became fixed, and he
fell convulsed on the floor. The noise brought into his room his
daughter, the Duchess of Albany, who happened to be in an adjoining
apartment. 'Sir,' she exclaimed, 'what is this? You have been speaking
to my father about Scotland and the Highlanders! No one dares to
mention those subjects in his presence.'"
He died on the 30th of January, 1788, in the arms of the Master of
Nairn. The monument erected to him, his father, and brother, in St.
Peter's, by desire of George IV., was perhaps the most graceful tribute
ever paid by royalty to misfortune--REGIO CINERI PIETAS REGIA.