A Popular History of England, From the Earliest Times to the Reign of Queen Victoria; Vol. IV

by François Guizot

The prince was advancing towards Derby, that fatal limit of Scotch expeditions into England. Three armies were formed around and against him. General Wade was at last moving across the county of York; the Duke of Cumberland, recalled from Germany, had gathered at Litchfield a body of from seven to eight thousand men. Considerable forces were assembled at Finchley for the defence of London. Charles Edward alone was still joyous. The road to the capital of Great Britain was open to him; a quick march had left behind him the Duke of Cumberland as well as General Wade. When he established himself at Derby, on the 4th of December, his whole preoccupation was to know whether he should enter London on foot or on horseback; dressed simply as an English gentlemen, or in the highland costume which he had worn since his arrival in Scotland.

The views of his adherents were different and their preoccupations more serious. Scarcely had they arrived at Derby, when the chiefs repaired in a body to the prince, representing to him the extreme danger they ran, surrounded as they were by hostile armies, in a hostile or indifferent country, without assistance from the Jacobites, and far distant from the forces which had remained in Scotland under the command of Lord Strathallan. A victory at the gates of London, the only chance of glory and success, would leave them still isolated and exposed to the vengeance and anger of the Elector. The latter had thirty thousand men at his disposal; their army did not number more than five thousand fighting men. All counselled retreat, whilst there was yet time, while the roads were not cut off, and reinforcements awaited them in Scotland.

The prince bore himself violently. "I would rather be twenty feet under the ground than retreat," he exclaimed. He multiplied reasons, arguments, and hopes, both groundless and chimerical; promising a landing of French troops in the county of Kent, expatiating justly on the terror into which their approach had thrown London, where the day of entrance into Derby long bore the name of Black Friday. The Scots remained immovable. Their soldiers were preparing to march into the capital, sharpening their swords or piously prostrating themselves in the churches; but the chiefs were resolved not to run any new risk. On the evening of the 5th of December the prince finally yielded. "You desire it," he said to the members of his council; "I consent to the retreat; but henceforth I will consult no one. I am responsible for my actions only to God and to my father. I shall no longer ask nor accept your advice."

In spite of the liberal protestations of Charles Edward, he had sucked in with his milk the maxims and haughtiness of absolute power; but bad fortune had more than once compelled the Stuarts to bend before the firm resolution of their faithful friends. The anger of the soldiers equalled that of the prince. "If we had been beaten, we would not have been more sad," said one of them. The discontent of the troops displayed itself by a new growth of irregularity. A long line of stragglers pillaged the cottages; some set fire to the villages which resisted them. The prince did not exercise any oversight. He no longer looked on himself as chief of the army, and he had abandoned his position in the advance guard. The Duke of Cumberland had raised his camp and was following the retreating army. Already at Clifton Moor, an advance detachment had thought to surprise Lord George Murray's corps. The lieutenant-general was on his guard. In the shade he perceived the dragoons who had descended from horseback, and who were gliding under the shelter of the walls. "Claymore!" cried the Scottish chief, and his soldiers instantly started in pursuit of the enemy, and soon put them to rout. Lord George had lost his cap and fought bareheaded.

The rebel army entered Scotland without another battle. Scarcely had it left Carlisle when the place was invested by the royal troops. The Manchester regiment which occupied it for the young Pretender was forced to capitulate "under the good pleasure of his Majesty." The good pleasure of George II. was to be, for the larger part of the officers, condemnation to death.

The royal authority had been re-established at Edinburgh since the prince had taken the road to England. General Hawley, who occupied it for George II., advanced towards Stirling. Charles Edward had just arrived there. He had blockaded the citadel, but on learning the movement of the English general he immediately marched to meet him. The prince had rallied all his forces; his army amounted to about eight or nine thousand men, a figure nearly equal to that of the royal troops. The English were encamped on the plain of Falkirk. On the 17th of January, 1746, when the rumor spread that the highlanders were approaching, the general was absent, being detained at Cullender House by the hospitality of the Countess of Kilmarnock, whose husband had taken part with the rebel army. The soldiers were preparing their dinner; confusion reigned among all the regiments. Hawley, who had come hatless in hot haste at a hard gallop, immediately hurried his dragoons along with him, ordering the infantry to follow him, so as to cut off the road to the mountaineers. Rain was driving in the face of the soldiers. The highlanders already occupied the acclivity when the royal troops arrived to meet them. Hardly had they formed their lines when the mountaineers dashed on them, having dispersed the cavalry, who suffered the disadvantage of the position. Only three regiments of the right wing stood the impetuous attack of the highlanders. On this juncture the Scotch brigade that Sir John Drummond had brought from France belied the reputation that it had achieved at Fontenoy. According to custom, the mountaineers, certain of victory, no longer thought of anything but plunder, and did not pursue the fugitives. Hawley and his dragoons, drenched almost to the skin by torrents of rain, beaten by a furious wind, ashamed and humiliated, reentered Linlithgow at a gallop, in order to take refuge immediately after in Edinburgh. The fugitive foot-soldiers joined them there, and bore all the rage of their terrible chief. The gibbets that he had prepared for the punishment of the rebels were loaded with his coward soldiers. The Duke of Cumberland alone, who was coming by forced marches to measure himself with the Pretender, put an end to these punishments. On the 30th of January he slept at Holyrood, in the same room and in the same bed that his rival had lately occupied. Yet once more the future of Great Britain seemed destined to be played for on the field of battle between two princely adversaries, both representing the most opposite principles, both young and brave, having at command forces the same to outward view, but in reality very different. To clear-sighted observers, even though prejudiced, Charles Edward's cause was lost.

It was the opinion of his most faithful adherents, absolutely devoted, as before Derby, to a cause the weakness of which they appreciated, and which they were resolved to defend to the very end. After his victory at Falkirk, the prince wished to again undertake the siege of Stirling Castle, without other counsel than that of a French engineer, M. de Mirabelle, and some subordinates. The chiefs were gloomy; they presented a remonstrance to the prince; desertions were becoming every day more numerous in the face of foes who were each day more threatening. "We are humbly of opinion," said the highland chiefs, "that the only means of snatching the army from an imminent peril is to withdraw to the highlands, and we can easily occupy the winter in getting possession of the northern fortresses. We are thus certain of retaining sufficient men to deter the enemy from following us into the mountains at this season of the year. In the spring a new army of ten thousand men will be ready to accompany your Royal Highness where it may seem good to you." On this occasion again the determined will of the men who had risked everything in his cause overcame the young prince's obstinacy. In his rage he dashed his head against the wall. "Good God! have I lived long enough to see this?" he cried. But the siege of Stirling Castle was abandoned, and the retreat toward the mountains began without any order or method. In his bad humor Charles Edward had neglected to give his orders. The rebels without difficulty invested Inverness, the castle of which yielded at the end of some days. The convoys of arms and supplies coming from France had almost all been intercepted by English cruisers. The coffers of the army needed money; the troops were receiving their pay in flour; dissatisfaction was on the increase; the French and Spanish adventurers were tired of the war; they ran no danger, and they reaped neither glory nor profit. The Duke of Cumberland pursued the retreating army. On the 2nd of February he had entered Stirling; on the 25th he took up quarters at Aberdeen, being himself irritated and gloomy. "All the inhabitants of the country are Jacobites," he wrote; "gentleness would be quite out of place; there would be no end if I should enumerate the villains and the villainies which abound here." The hour of vengeance was approaching, rendered more cruel by the natural harshness of the conqueror, as well as by the passionate obstinacy of those of the rebels who should become his victims. Already the march of the royal army was marked by gibbets. The duke's advance was for a time hindered by the departure of the Dutch troops. Scarcely had Lord John Drummond set foot in Scotland than he had communicated to the troops of the States-General his commission from Louis XV. As prisoners of war who had capitulated at Tournay and at Dendermonde, the Dutch regiments were pledged not to bear arms against France. They had just been replaced by Hessians, when the Duke of Cumberland, crossing the Spey in spite of the highlanders' efforts, advanced as far as Nairn, where he established his camp. About seven leagues separated the two armies; plenty reigned among the English. On the 15th of April, the Duke of Cumberland's birthday, an extraordinary distribution of provisions was made among the troops. When the highlanders were called to arms in the night they had scarcely had a biscuit to appease their hunger. The prince and Lord George Murray had conceived the hope of effecting a surprise. The body of troops was inconsiderable, but the night was dark, the road bad, and the English made drowsy by copious drinking. The mountaineers set out on the march; they were enfeebled, and they advanced slowly. Day was beginning to break when they found themselves in sight of the English camp. Charles Edward was disposed to push forward. "A little light will be advantageous to us in wielding the two-edged sword," said Hepburn; but Lord George, ever prudent, and stationed at the head of the advance guard, had already ordered the retreat. The men, fatigued and discouraged, resumed their position in the plain of Culloden, at the foot of the castle which the prince occupied, and which belonged to the great Judge Duncan Forbes, one of his most decided as well as most intelligent and reasonable adversaries. It was there that the Duke of Cumberland came in his turn to offer battle to the Pretender. The army of the latter was small in number; several clans, disaffected on different points, did not respond to the call. Charles Edward refused to hear the wary counsels which his friends threw away on him, among others the Marquis d'Equilles, who had lately come from France with a letter from King Louis XV., and who pompously assumed the title of ambassador. The die was cast; the two armies drew up for battle in the plain. It was about eleven o'clock in the morning. On the 18th of April, 1746, before close of day, the Jacobite army had ceased to exist.

The courage of Charles Edward and his conduct at the battle of Culloden have often been questioned. Standing motionless on the hill at the head of a squadron of cavalry, he took no part in the action, and when he perceived the disorder of the troops he made no effort to rally them and to die in their midst. He was displeased and gloomy, affected perhaps by the fatalistic superstition that seemed to have impressed several of the clans. The Macdonalds had been placed at the left wing, whereas they had occupied the right at Prestonpans and at Falkirk. This change had seemed to them a bad augury. Lochiel had been severely wounded; two of his followers had carried him bleeding far from the field of battle. The courtiers who surrounded the prince took fright when they saw the fortune of battle declare itself against them, and withdrew, ignoring the fate reserved for them and what intellectual and moral degradation should attach to that man who had started in life by an undertaking so adventurous and brilliant that it had for a time placed him in the estimation of Europe among heroes. The Duke of Cumberland was constantly borne to the front rank. "I have just given the orders of the day, that fugitives will be shot," he had said to his troops at the beginning of the battle. "I tell you this, that those who do not feel their courage very certain, should retire. I prefer to fight with one thousand resolute men behind me than to have ten thousand among whom are cowards." The regiments had responded by the cry of "Flanders! Flanders!" a just and noble souvenir of their attitude at Fontenoy. The battle was finished and the victory complete when the duke wrote to London, "I thank God for having been the instrument of this success, the glory of which belongs solely to the English troops, who have cleansed themselves of the little check at Falkirk without the help of the Hessians. They would have been well able to spare us the trouble, and have not been useless in spite of their inaction."