This narrative, written by an English officer, who served in Lord
Balmerino’s regiment, is occasionally referred to by modern historians
of the Jacobite period, but has never been printed. Two manuscripts
are known to exist. One, which belongs to an English gentleman, was
shown to me by the late Mr. Andrew Lang. It is evidently contemporary,
or nearly so, but the spelling is so eccentric that it is exceedingly
difficult to read. The second manuscript is preserved at Drummond
Castle, and is a certificated copy of the original, but it is written
with modern spelling. Both were put at my disposal, but as there was
nothing to show that the older version was Daniel’s holograph--indeed
the evidence was against it--I preferred to use the Drummond Castle
copy. The matter in both was practically identical. Of the writer
nothing is known beyond what he tells of himself. Apparently he came
from the Fylde country of Lancashire, the district between the Lune and
the Ribble, and he was brought up in Jacobite principles.
The narrative is particularly interesting as giving the adventures of
an English Jacobite. Daniel, stimulated by the call of conscience, had
determined to embrace the cause. He had the good fortune to meet the
Duke of Perth when the Prince’s army was near Preston on the march to
Derby. The Duke invited him to join, offering him his friendship and
patronage. Daniel accepted the offer, and he continued with the army
until the end, when he escaped to France in the same ship as the Duke
of Perth, whose death he witnessed on the voyage from Arisaig to France
in the following May.
On joining, Daniel was attached to the first troop of Life Guards,
of which Lord Elcho was colonel, but on the retreat from Derby he
was transferred to the second troop of the same regiment, which was
commanded by the Hon. Arthur Elphinstone, who about three weeks later
succeeded his brother as sixth Lord Balmerino. Daniel conceived a great
affection and admiration for his colonel, yet in his laudatory account
he mentions a painful characteristic of the times. A gentleman, and a
scholar who could recite pages from the Classics, Lord Balmerino was
of a noble personage and had the courage of a lion. Moreover he never
failed in his military duties. His ‘sole and predominant passion’ was
for hard drinking. But for this weakness, ‘he would have shone with the
same lustre in the army as he afterwards did on the scaffold.’
In the narrative there is no affectation of impartiality. Daniel is
constantly comparing the iniquities of his enemies with the virtues
of his friends. There is a curious incident mentioned by him when
referring to the death of Sir Robert Munro of Foulis at the battle of
Falkirk. He says (page 198), ‘among the slain were . . . Sir Robert
Munro, who was heard much to blaspheme during the engagement, and as
a punishment for which, his tongue was miraculously cut asunder by a
sword that struck him directly across the mouth.’ This is rather a
startling statement concerning the end of one whom Dr. Doddridge has
depicted as a type of the Christian soldier.[75] There seems, however,
no necessity to doubt the truth of Daniel’s statement as representing
the talk of the Highland camp; for it must be remembered that Sir
Robert had served for many years with the army in Flanders whose strong
language was proverbial. With the Highlanders on the other hand,
profanity was not a common failing, and they may have been shocked at
expletives which to an old campaigner were but unmeaning commonplaces
of military expression.
Doddridge gives a certain amount of confirmation to Daniel’s story. He
tells that when Sir Robert’s body was found the day after the battle,
his face was so cut and mangled that it was hardly recognisable.
Daniel on joining the Jacobite army had been befriended by the Duke of
Perth, and naturally he heartily disapproved of Lord George Murray. His
dislike and distrust are shown frequently in his narrative. He tells,
too, how his chief, Lord Balmerino, quarrelled with Lord George; how
the hardships the cavalry endured in the campaign nearly drove the men
to mutiny, the blame being thrown on the general. Such unreasoning
accusations must have made Lord George’s life, hard as it was, more
difficult than it would have been had officers and men been really
disciplined.
There is another charge which Daniel makes against Lord George
Murray--a charge which raised much controversy amongst the
Jacobites--namely, the responsibility for fighting the battle of
Culloden.
Daniel says: ‘Contrary to the Prince’s inclination, Lord George Murray
insisted on standing and fighting that day. The Prince, notwithstanding
his great inclination to avoid fighting, was at last obliged to give
way to the importunity of Lord George Murray, who even used terms very
cutting in case of refusal.’ This attempt to fix the responsibility
on Lord George is contrary to impartial evidence, as may be seen by
careful examination of contemporary documents.[76] Lord George was
against fighting, his scheme being to retire to the mountains, very
much as proposed by the Marquis D’Eguilles. The Prince surely must
have known this, yet we find that while hiding in South Uist he told
Neil Maceachain that ‘he blamed always my Lord George as being the
only instrument in loseing the battle, and altho’ that he, the morning
before the action, used all his rhetorick, and eloquence against
fighting, yet my Lord George outreasoned him, till at last he yielded
for fear to raise a dissension among the army, all which he attributed
to his infidelity, roguery, and treachery.’ One can only surmise that
in his anger against Lord George Murray, the Prince’s recollection
of what had actually happened had become confused, and, surrounded
by flatterers even in his flight, he had brought himself to lay the
responsibility on his Lieutenant-General.
The controversy, which long raged among the Jacobites, may be set at
rest once and for all from the report of the Marquis D’Eguilles to
Louis XV. D’Eguilles was the accredited envoy of the King of France to
the itinerant Court of Prince Charles Edward. On his return to France
after a year’s confinement as a prisoner of war, he wrote an official
report of his mission to the French king. It is a State document,
preserved in the archives of the French Government, but apparently it
has never been examined by any British historian. From the text of that
document, an extract from which is here given, it will be seen that on
the Prince, and the Prince alone, lay the responsibility of fighting
the battle of Culloden.
[Sidenote: French Envoy’s Official Report to Louis XV. on the Battle of
Culloden]
Le prince, qui se croyait invincible, parce qu’il n’avait
pas encore été vaincu, défié par des ennemis qu’il méprisait
trop, voyant à leur tête le fils du concurrent de son père,
fier et haut comme il l’était, mal conseillé, peut-être trahi,
oubliant en ce moment tout autre projet, ne put se résoudre à
lui refuser un seul jour le combat. Je lui demandai un quart
d’heure d’audience en particulier. Là, je me jetai en vain à ses
pieds; je lui représentai en vain qu’il lui manquait encore la
moitié de son armée, que la plupart de ceux qui étaient revenus
n’avaient plus de boucliers, espèce d’armes défensives, sans les
quelles ils ne sauraient combattre avec avantage; qu’ils étaient
tous épuisés de fatigue, par une longue course faite la nuit
précédente; que depuis deux jours plusieurs n’avaient pas mangé,
faute de pain; qu’il fallait se réduire à défendre Inverness;
qu’il serait même encore plus prudent de l’abandonner et de
mettre entre les ennemis et nous la rivière, auprès de laquelle
cette ville est batie; qu’au pis-aller nous entrerions dans les
montagnes voisines; que c’était là qu’il serait véritablement
invincible; que nous y resterions les maîtres de la partie de la
côte où devait arriver le secours d’armes et d’argent que nous
attendions; que dès que nous l’aurions reçu, nous marcherions
vers l’Angleterre par cette même côte, ainsi qu’il avait été
convenu; que plus les ennemis se seraient avancés vers nous, et
plus il leur serait difficile en rebroussant chemin, d’arriver à
Londres avant nous; que c’était la prise de cette grande ville
qui devait faire son unique objet; que les succès qu’il pourrait
avoir ailleurs n’auraient jamais rien de décisif, tandis que tout
allait être perdu sans ressource dans une heure, s’il venait à
être battu.
Enfin, le trouvant inébranlable dans la résolution prise de
combattre à quelque prix que ce fût, je fis céder mon penchant à
mon devoir. Je le quittai pour la première fois, je me retirai en
hâte à Inverness, pour y brûler tous mes papiers, et y songer aux
moyens de conserver à votre Majesté la partie de ses troupes qui
ne périrait dans l’action.
Je vis avant la fin du jour le spectacle le plus frappant de la
faiblesse humaine: le prince fut vaincu en un instant. Jamais
déroute plus entière que la sienne.