Upon arriving at the prince's lodgings Macdonald remained without, the
Duke of Athole entering, accompanied only by Ronald.
"The prince is in disguise," he said, "and but one or two of us visit him
here in order that no suspicion may be incited among the people of the
house that he is anything beyond what he appears to be--a young student
of the Scotch college at Paris."
They ascended the stairs to the upper story, and on the marquis knocking,
a door was opened. The duke entered, followed by Ronald.
"Well, duke, what is the news?"
The question was asked by a young man, who was pacing restlessly up and
down the room, of which he was, with the exception of his valet de
chambre, an Italian named Michel, the person who had opened the door, the
only occupant.
"Ah! whom have you here?"
"Allow me to present to your royal highness Lieutenant Leslie. He is the
son of Leslie of Glenlyon, who fought by my side in your father's cause
in '15, and has, like myself, been an exile ever since. This is the young
gentleman who, two years since, saved Macdonald from arrest in Glasgow."
"Ah! I remember the adventure," the prince said courteously, "and right
gallant action it was; but how did you hear that I was here, sir?"
"I was told by my good friend and commanding officer, Colonel Hume of the
2nd Scottish Dragoons, your royal highness."
"I revealed it to Hume before leaving Paris," the duke said, "he being a
great friend of mine and as staunch as steel, and I knew that he could be
trusted to keep a secret."
"It seems that in the last particular you were wrong," the prince
remarked with a slight smile.
"Colonel Hume only revealed it to me, sir," Ronald said, anxious to save
his friend from the suspicion of having betrayed a secret confided to
him, "for very special reasons. I had the misfortune to kill in a duel
the Duke of Chateaurouge, and as we fought just outside the park of
Versailles, and the duke was a favourite of the king's, I had to ride for
it; then Colonel Hume, knowing my devotion to the cause of your highness,
whispered to me the secret of your intention, and gave me a message to
his friend the Duke of Athole."
"Do you say that you have killed the Duke of Chateaurouge in a duel?" the
duke exclaimed in astonishment. "Why, he has the reputation of being one
of the best swordsmen in France, and has a most evil name as a dangerous
and unscrupulous man. I met him constantly at court, and his arrogance
and haughtiness were well nigh insufferable. And you have killed him?"
"I knew him well too," the prince said, "and his reputation. We do not
doubt what you say, young gentleman," he added quickly, seeing a flush
mount into Ronald's face; "but in truth it seems strange that such should
have been the case."
"Colonel Hume did me the honour to be my second," Ronald said quietly,
"and the Marquis de Vallecourt was second to the duke; some other
officers of the Scottish regiment were present, as were two other French
noblemen, De Lisle and St. Aignan."
"We doubt you not, sir," the duke said warmly. "You will understand that
it cannot but seem strange that you at your age--for it seems to me
that you cannot be more than nineteen--should have been able to stand
for a moment against one of the best swordsmen in France, to say nothing
of having slain him."
"Colonel Hume would scarcely have consented to act as my second had he
thought that the contest was a wholly unequal one," Ronald said with a
slight smile; "indeed I may say that he regarded it as almost certain
that I should have the best of the fray."
"Why, you must be a very Paladin," the prince said admiringly; "but sit
down and tell us all about it. Upon my word I am so sick of being cooped
up for four days in this wretched den that I regard your coming as a
godsend. Now tell me how it was that the Duc de Chateaurouge condescended
to quarrel with a young officer in the Scottish Horse."
"It was a family quarrel, sir, which I had inherited from my father."
"Yes, yes, I remember now," the Duke of Athole broke in. "It is an old
story now; but I heard all about it at the time, and did what I could, as
did all Leslie's friends, to set the matter right, but in vain. Leslie of
Glenlyon, prince, was colonel of the Scottish Dragoons, and as gallant
and dashing a soldier as ever was in the service of the King of France,
and as good looking a one too; and the result was, the daughter of the
Marquis de Recambours, one of the richest heiresses in France, whom her
father and the king destined as the bride of this Duke of Chateaurouge,
who was then quite a young man, fell in love with Leslie, and a secret
marriage took place between them. For three years no one suspected it;
but the young lady's obstinacy in refusing to obey her father's orders
caused her to be shut up in a convent. Somehow the truth came out. Leslie
was arrested and thrown into the Bastille, and he has never been heard of
since. What became of the child which was said to have been born no one
ever heard; but it was generally supposed that it had been put out of the
way. We in vain endeavoured to soften the king's anger against Leslie,
but the influence of Recambours and Chateaurouge was too great for us.
Hume told me some time since that Leslie's son had been carried off to
Scotland by one of his troopers, and had returned, and was riding as a
gentleman volunteer in his regiment; but we have had no further talk on
the subject."
"You will be glad to hear, sir," Ronald said, "that my father and mother
have within the last few weeks been released, and are now living on a
small estate of my mother's in the south. They were ordered to retire
there by the king."
"I am glad, indeed," the duke said cordially; "and how is your father?"
"He is sadly crippled by rheumatism, and can scarce walk," Ronald said,
"and I fear that his health is altogether shaken with what he had to go
through."
"How did you obtain their release, Leslie?" the prince asked.
"Marshal Saxe obtained it for me," Ronald answered. "Colonel Hume first
introduced me to him, and as he too had known my father he promised that
should he obtain a victory he would ask as a boon from the king the
release of my father, and he did so after Fontenoy, where the Marquis de
Recambours was killed, and the king thereby freed from his influence. The
Duke of Chateaurouge, whose hostility against my father had always been
bitter, was doubtless greatly irritated at his release, and took the
first opportunity, on meeting me, of grossly insulting me. On my replying
in terms in accordance with the insult, he drew, and would have fought me
in the palace grounds had not Colonel Hume and his friends interfered;
then we adjourned outside the park. The duke doubtless thought that he
would kill me without difficulty, and so rushed in so carelessly that at
the very first thrust I ran him through."
"And served him right," the prince said heartily. "Now since both your
father's enemies are gone, it may be hoped that his troubles are over,
and that your mother will recover the estates to which she is entitled.
And now, duke, what is your news? When are we going to sail?"
"The Doutelle is already by this time on her way down the river, and it
is proposed that we shall start this evening and board her there. The
stores and arms are all safely on board the Elizabeth, and she is lying
off Belleisle; so far as Mr. Walsh has heard, no suspicion has been
excited as to their purpose or destination, so that we may hope in
twenty-four hours to be fairly on board."
"That is the best news I have heard for months," the prince said; "thank
goodness the time for action is at last at hand!"
"I have, I trust, your royal highness' permission to accompany you,"
Ronald said; "together with my follower, Anderson. He is the trooper who
carried me over to Scotland as a child, and has been my faithful friend
ever since."
"Certainly, Leslie. I shall be glad indeed to have a member of a family
who have proved so faithful to my father's cause with me in the adventure
upon which I am embarking."
Ronald with a few words of thanks bowed and took his leave, after
receiving instructions from the duke to start shortly and to ride down
the river towards Lorient.
"You can halt for a few hours on the road, and then ride on again; we
shall overtake you before you reach the port. We shall all leave singly
or in pairs, to avoid attracting any attention."
Ronald left, delighted with the kindness of the prince's manner. Prince
Charles was indeed possessed of all the attributes which win men's hearts
and devotion. In figure he was tall and well formed, and endowed both
with strength and activity. He excelled in all manly exercises, and was
an excellent walker, having applied himself ardently to field sports
during his residence in Italy.
He was strikingly handsome, his face was of a perfect oval, his features
high and noble, his complexion was fair, his eyes light blue, and,
contrary to the custom of the time, when wigs were almost universally
worn, he allowed his hair to fall in long ringlets on his neck. His
manner was graceful, and although he always bore himself with a sort of
royal dignity he had the peculiar talent of pleasing and attracting all
with whom he came in contact, and had the art of adapting his
conversation to the taste or station of those whom he addressed.
His education had been intrusted to Sir Thomas Sheridan, an Irish Roman
Catholic, who had grossly neglected his duties, and who indeed has been
more than suspected of acting as an agent in the pay of the British
government. The weakness in the prince's character was that he was a bad
judge of men, and inclined on all occasions to take the advice of
designing knaves who flattered and paid deference to him, rather than
that of the Scottish nobles who were risking their lives for his cause,
but who at times gave their advice with a bluntness and warmth which were
displeasing to him. It was this weakness which brought an enterprise,
which at one time had the fairest prospect of success, to destruction and
ruin.
On leaving the house Ronald was joined by Malcolm, and half an hour later
they mounted their horses and rode for the mouth of the Loire. The whole
party arrived on the following day at St. Nazaire, embarking separately
on board the Doutelle, where Prince Charles, who had come down from
Nantes in a fishing boat, was received by Mr. Walsh, the owner of the
vessel. Ronald now saw gathered together the various persons who were to
accompany Prince Charles on this adventurous expedition. These were
Sheridan, the former tutor of the prince; Kelly, a non-juring clergyman,
and Sullivan--both, like Sheridan, Irishmen; Strickland, a personage so
unimportant that while some writers call him an Englishman, others assert
that he was Irish; Aeneas Macdonald, a Scotchman; Sir John Macdonald, an
officer in the Spanish service; the prince's valet, Michel; and the Duke
of Athole, or, as he is more generally called, the Marquis of
Tullibardine, the last named being the only man of high standing or
reputation. Never did a prince start to fight for a kingdom with such a
following.
The Doutelle weighed anchor as soon as the last of the party arrived on
deck, and under easy sail proceeded to Belleisle. Here she lay for some
days awaiting the arrival of the Elizabeth. Mr. Rutledge, a merchant at
Nantes, had obtained an order from the French court that this man of war
should proceed to cruise on the coast of Scotland, and had then arranged
with the captain of the ship to take on board the arms that had been
purchased by the prince with the proceeds of the sale of some of the
family jewels.
These consisted of fifteen hundred muskets, eighteen hundred broadswords,
twenty small field pieces, and some ammunition. The captain had also
agreed that the Doutelle, which only mounted eighteen small guns, should
sail in company with the Elizabeth to Scotland. As soon as the Elizabeth
was seen the Doutelle spread her sails, and keeping a short distance from
each other, the two vessels sailed north. So great was the necessity for
prudence that the prince still maintained his disguise as a Scottish
student, and, with the exception of Mr. Walsh, none of the officers and
crew of the Doutelle were acquainted with his real rank, and the various
members of his party treated him and each other as strangers.
Four days after leaving Belleisle a British man of war of fifty-eight
guns hove in sight, and crowding on all sail rapidly came up. The
Elizabeth at once prepared to engage her, signalling to the Doutelle to
do the same. The prince urged Mr. Walsh to aid the Elizabeth, but the
latter steadily refused.
He had undertaken, he said, to carry the prince to Scotland, and would do
nothing to endanger the success of the enterprise. The two vessels were
well matched, and he would not allow the Doutelle to engage in the
affair. The prince continued to urge the point, until at last Mr. Walsh
said "that unless he abstained from interference he should be forced to
order him below."
The Doutelle, therefore, stood aloof from the engagement, which lasted
for five or six hours, and sailed quietly on her course, in order to be
beyond the risk of capture should the English ship prove victorious;
neither of the vessels, however, obtained any decided advantage. Both
were so crippled in the encounter that the Elizabeth returned to France,
the Lion to Plymouth to refit. Thus the small supply of arms and
artillery which the prince had with such great trouble got together was
lost.
"Well, Ronald," Malcolm said that evening as they leant over the taffrail
together, "I do think that such a mad headed expedition as this was never
undertaken. An exiled prince, an outlawed duke, six adventurers, a valet,
and our two selves. One could laugh if one was not almost ready to cry at
the folly of invading a country like England in such a fashion."
"That is only one way of looking at it, Malcolm. We are not an army of
invasion. The prince is simply travelling with a few personal followers
to put himself at the head of an army. The affair depends, not upon us,
but upon the country. If the clans turn out to support him as they did in
'15 he will soon be at the head of some twenty thousand men. Not enough,
I grant you, to conquer England, but enough for a nucleus round which the
Lowland and English Jacobites can gather."
"Yes, it depends upon the ifs, Ronald. If all the Highland clans join,
and if there are sufficient Jacobites in the Lowlands and England to make
a large army, we may do. I have some hopes of the clans, but after what
we saw of the apathy of the English Jacobites in '15 I have no shadow of
faith in them. However, I fought for the Chevalier in '15, and I am ready
to fight for Prince Charles now as long as there is any fighting to be
done, and when that is over I shall be as ready to make for France as I
was before."
Ronald laughed.
"You are certainly not enthusiastic about it, Malcolm."
"When one gets to my age, Ronald, common sense takes the place of
enthusiasm, and I have seen enough of wars to know that for business a
well appointed and well disciplined army is required. If Prince Charles
does get what you call an army, but which I should call an armed mob,
together, there will be the same dissensions, the same bickerings, the
same want of plan that there was before; and unless something like a
miracle happens it will end as the last did at Preston, in defeat and
ruin. However, lad, here we are, and we will go through with it to the
end. By the time we get back to France we must hope that King Louis will
have got over the killing of his favourite. However, I tell you frankly
that my hope is that when the Highland chiefs see that the prince has
come without arms, without men, and without even promises of support by
France, they will refuse to risk liberty and life and to bring ruin upon
their people by joining in such a mad brained adventure."
"I hope not, Malcolm," Ronald said, as he looked at the prince as he was
pacing up and down the deck with the Duke of Athole, talking rapidly, his
face flushed with enthusiasm, his clustering hair blown backward by the
wind. "He is a noble young prince. He is fighting for his own. He has
justice and right on his side, and God grant that he may succeed!"
"Amen to that, Ronald, with all my heart! But so far as my experience
goes, strength and discipline and generalship and resources go a great
deal further than right in deciding the issue of a war."
Two days later another English man of war came in sight and gave chase to
the Doutelle, but the latter was a fast sailer and soon left her pursuer
behind, and without further adventure arrived among the Western Isles,
and dropped anchor near the little islet of Erisca, between Barra and
South Uist. As they approached the island an eagle sailed out from the
rocky shore and hovered over the vessel, and the Duke of Athole pointed
it out as a favourable augury to the prince.
Charles and his companions landed at Erisca and passed the night on
shore. They found on inquiry that this cluster of islands belonged to
Macdonald of Clanranald, a young chief who was known to be attached to
the Jacobite cause. He was at present absent on the mainland, but his
uncle and principal adviser, Macdonald of Boisdale, was in South Uist.
The prince sent off one of his followers in a boat to summon him, and he
came aboard the Doutelle the next morning; but when he heard from the
prince that he had come alone and unattended he refused to have anything
to do with the enterprise, which he asserted was rash to the point of
insanity, and would bring ruin and destruction on all who took part in
it.
The prince employed all his efforts to persuade the old chief, but in
vain, and the latter returned to his isle in a boat, while the Doutelle
pursued her voyage to the mainland and entered the Bay of Lochnanuagh, in
Inverness shire, and immediately sent a messenger to Clanranald, who came
on board shortly with Macdonald of Kinloch Moidart, and several other
Macdonalds.
They received the prince with the greatest respect, but, like Macdonald
of Boisdale, the two chiefs refused to take up arms in an enterprise
which they believed to be absolutely hopeless. In vain Prince Charles
argued and implored. The two chiefs remained firm, until the prince
suddenly turned to a younger brother of Moidart, who stood listening to
the conversation, and with his fingers clutching the hilt of his
broadsword as he heard the young prince, whom he regarded as his future
king, in vain imploring the assistance of his brother and kinsmen.
"Will you at least not assist me?" the prince exclaimed.
"I will, I will!" Ranald Macdonald exclaimed. "Though no other man in the
Highlands shall draw a sword, I am ready to die for you."
The enthusiasm of the young man was catching, and throwing to the winds
their own convictions and forebodings, the two Macdonalds declared that
they also would join, and use every exertion to engage their countrymen.
The clansmen who had come on board the ship without knowing the object of
the visit were now told who the prince was, and they expressed their
readiness to follow to the death. Two or three days later, on the 25th of
July, Prince Charles landed and was conducted to Borodale, a farmhouse
belonging to Clanranald.
Charles at once sent off letters to the Highland chiefs whom he knew to
be favourable to the Stuart cause. Among these the principal were Cameron
of Locheil, Sir Alexander Macdonald, and Macleod. Locheil immediately
obeyed the summons, but being convinced of the madness of the enterprise
he came, not to join the prince, but to dissuade him from embarking in
it. On his way he called upon his brother, Cameron of Fassefern, who
agreed with his opinion as to the hopelessness of success, and urged him
to write to the prince instead of going to see him.
"I know you better than you know yourself," he said. "If the prince once
sets eyes upon you, he will make you do whatever he pleases."
Locheil, however, persisted in going, convinced that the prince would, on
his representation, abandon the design. For a long time he stood firm,
until the prince exclaimed:
"I am resolved to put all to the hazard. In a few days I will erect the
royal standard and proclaim to the people of Britain that Charles Stuart
is come over to claim the crown of his ancestors or perish in the
attempt. Locheil, 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."
Locheil's resolution melted at once at these words, and he said:
"Not so. I will share the fate of my prince whatsoever it be, and so
shall every man over whom nature or fortune hath given me power."
The conversion of Locheil was the turning point of the enterprise. Upon
the news of the prince's landing spreading, most of the other chiefs had
agreed that if Locheil stood aloof they would not move; and had he
remained firm not a man would have joined the prince's standard, and he
would have been forced to abandon the enterprise. Sir Alexander Macdonald
and Macleod, instead of going to see the prince, had gone off together,
on the receipt of his letter, to the Isle of Skye, so as to avoid an
interview. Clanranald was despatched by Prince Charles to see them, but
they declined to join, urging with the truth that the promises which they
had given to join in a rising were contingent upon the prince arriving at
the head of a strong French force with arms and supplies. They therefore
refused at present to move. Others, however, were not so cautious. Fired
by the example of Locheil, and by their own traditions of loyalty to the
Stuarts' cause, many of the lesser chiefs at once summoned their
followers to the field. With the majority the absence of French troops
had the exactly opposite effect that it had had with Sir Alexander
Macdonald and Macleod. Had the prince landed with a French army they
might have stood aloof and suffered him to fight out his quarrel unaided;
but his arrival alone and unattended, trusting solely and wholly to the
loyalty of the Scottish people, made an irresistible appeal to their
generous feelings, and although there were probably but few who did not
foresee that failure, ruin, and death would be the result of the
enterprise, they embarked in the cause with as much ardour as if their
success had been certain.
From Borodale, after disembarking the scanty treasure of four thousand
louis d'or which he had brought with him and a few stands of arms from
the Doutelle, Charles proceeded by water to Kinloch Moidart.
Mr. Walsh sailed in the Doutelle, after receiving the prince's warmest
thanks, and a letter to his father in Rome begging him to grant Mr. Walsh
an Irish earldom as a reward for the services he had rendered, a
recommendation which was complied with.
The chiefs soon began to assemble at Moidart, and the house became the
centre of a picturesque gathering.
Ronald had now put aside the remembrance of Malcolm's forebodings, and
entered heart and soul into the enterprise. He had in Glasgow frequently
seen Highlanders in their native dress, but he had not before witnessed
any large gathering, and he was delighted with the aspect of the sturdy
mountaineers in their picturesque garb.
The prince had at once laid aside the attire in which he had landed and
had assumed Highland costume, and by the charm and geniality of his
manner he completely won the hearts of all who came in contact with him.
Among those who joined him at Moidart was Murray of Broughton, a man who
was destined to exercise as destructive an influence on the prince's
fortune as had Mr. Forster over that of his father. Murray had hurried
from his seat in the south, having first had a large number of
manifestoes for future distribution printed. He was at once appointed by
Charles his secretary of state.
While the gathering at Moidart was daily growing, the English remained in
ignorance of the storm which was preparing. It was not until the 30th of
July that the fact that the prince had sailed from Nantes was known in
London, and as late as the 8th of August, nearly three weeks after
Charles first appeared on the coast, the fact of his landing was unknown
to the authorities in Edinburgh.
On the 16th of August the English governor at Fort Augustus, alarmed at
the vague reports which reached him, and the sudden news that bodies of
armed Highlanders were hurrying west, sent a detachment of two companies
under Captain Scott to reinforce the advance post of Fort William.
After marching twenty miles the troops entered the narrow ravine of Spean
Bridge, when they were suddenly attacked by a party of Keppoch's clansmen
who were on their way to join the prince when they saw the English troops
on their march. They were joined by some of Locheil's clansmen, and so
heavy a fire was kept up from the heights that the English, after having
five or six men killed and many more wounded, among them their commanding
officer, were forced to lay down their arms.
They were treated with great humanity by their captors, and the wounded
were well cared for. The news of this success reached the prince on the
day before that fixed for the raising of his standard, the 19th of
August, and added to the enthusiasm which prevailed among the little
force gathered in Glenfinnan, where the ceremony took place. The glen lay
about halfway between Borodale and Fort William, both being about fifteen
miles distant. The gathering consisted principally of the Camerons of
Locheil, some six hundred strong, and they brought with them two English
companies captured on the 16th, disarmed and prisoners.
The Duke of Athole performed the ceremony of unfurling the banner. He was
the heir to the dukedom of Athole, but had been exiled for taking part in
the rising of '15 and the dukedom bestowed by the English government upon
his brother; thus among the English he was still spoken of as the Marquis
of Tullibardine, while at the French court and among the followers of the
Stuarts he was regarded as the rightful Duke of Athole.
The unfurling of the standard was greeted with loud shouts, and the
clansmen threw their bonnets high in the air. The duke then read the
manifesto of the Chevalier, and the commission of regency granted by him
to Prince Charles. After this the prince himself made an inspiring
speech, and declared that at the head of his faithful Highlanders he was
resolved to conquer or to perish.
Among the spectators of the ceremony was Captain Swetenham, an English
officer taken prisoner a few days before while on his way to assume the
command of Fort William. He had been treated with great courtesy and
kindness by the prince, who, after the ceremony, dismissed him with the
words, "You may now return to your general; tell him what you have seen,
and add that I am about to give him battle."
Soon after the conclusion of the ceremony Keppoch marched in with three
hundred of his clan, and some smaller parties also arrived. The next
morning the force marched to Locheil's house at Auchnacarrie, where the
prince was joined by the Macdonalds of Glencoe, a hundred and fifty
strong, two hundred Stuarts of Appin under their chief, and by the
younger Glengarry with two hundred more, so that the force had now
swelled to sixteen hundred men.
"We begin to look like an army," Ronald said to Malcolm.
"Well, yes," the latter replied drily, "we are rather stronger than one
regiment and not quite so strong as two; still, if things go on like this
we shall ere very long have mounted up to the strength of a brigade; but
even a brigade, Ronald, does nor go very far towards the conquest of a
kingdom, especially when only about one man in three has got a musket,
and so far there are neither cavalry nor artillery. Still, you know,
these things may come."
Ronald laughed gaily at his companion's want of faith. He himself had now
caught the enthusiasm which pervaded all around. It was true that as yet
the prince's adherents were but a handful, but it was not to be expected
that an army would spring from the ground. Promises of assistance had
come from all quarters, and if the army was a small one the English army
in Scotland was but little larger, and if a first success could be
achieved, all Scotland might be expected to rise, and the news would
surely influence the Jacobites of England to declare for the prince.
Sir John Cope, the English officer commanding the English forces in
Scotland, at the first rumour of troubles had ordered his troops to
assemble at Stirling. He had with him two regiments of dragoons,
Gardiner's and Hamilton's, both young regiments, and the whole force at
his disposal, exclusive of troops in garrison, did not exceed three
thousand men. With these he proposed to march at once to the west, and
crush the rebellion before it gained strength. The English government
approved of his proposal, and sent him a proclamation offering a reward
of thirty thousand pounds to any person who should seize and secure the
pretended Prince of Wales.
On the day of the raising of the standard Cope set out from Edinburgh for
Stirling and the next day commenced his march at the head of fifteen
hundred infantry, leaving the dragoons behind him, as these could be of
but little service among the mountains, where they would have found it
next to impossible to obtain forage for their horses. He took with him a
large quantity of baggage, a drove of black cattle for food, and a
thousand stand of arms to distribute among the volunteers who he expected
would join him. As, however, none of these came in, he sent back seven
hundred muskets to Crieff.
The first object of the march was Fort Augustus, which he intended to
make his central post. As he advanced he was met by Captain Swetenham,
who informed him of the raising of the standard and the gathering he had
witnessed. As, however, only Locheil's clansmen had arrived before
Swetenham left, Cope considered his force ample for the purpose, and
continued his march. In order to reach Fort Augustus, however, he had to
pass over Corry Arrack, a lofty and precipitous mountain which was
ascended by a military road with fifteen zigzags, known to the country as
the devil's staircase.
Prince Charles, who had received early news of the advance from Stirling,
had recognized the importance of the position, and having burned and
destroyed all baggage that would impede his progress, made a forced march
and reached Corry Arrack on the 27th, before Sir John Cope had commenced
his ascent. As Sir John saw that the formidable position was in the hands
of the enemy he felt that it would be in vain to endeavour to force it.
Each zigzag would have to be carried in turn, and the enterprise would be
a desperate one. Success would be of no great advantage, as the
Highlanders, lightly clad and active, would make off and defy pursuit;
defeat would be disastrous. He, therefore, called a council of war and
asked his officers to decide whether it would be best to remain at
Dalwhinnie at the foot of the mountain, to return to Sterling, or to
march to Inverness, where they would be joined by the well affected
clans. He himself strongly urged the last course, believing that the
prince would not venture to descend into the Lowlands while he remained
in his rear. The council of war adopted his opinion. No officer advocated
remaining inactive at Dalwhinnie, one only supported the alternative of
the retreat to Stirling, the rest agreed upon an advance to Inverness.
When it was found that Cope's army had moved away without fighting, the
exultation of the Highlanders was great. Most of the chiefs wished to
follow at once and give battle, urging that it would be hazardous to
advance south and leave the enemy to cut off their retreat; but the
prince himself saw the supreme importance of a descent into the Lowlands,
and that plan of action was decided upon.