Mackay now stood in one of the most extraordinary predicaments in which the commander of an army was ever placed. His whole men had, as if by some supernatural cause, disappeared almost in an instant of time, and he found himself standing a solitary being on the mountain side, not knowing what to do, or whither to direct his course. Whether had they had the courage to follow him, the timid troop would have turned the tide of victory in his favour, may indeed be well doubted; but it is obvious that he adopted the only alternative which could render success probable. Judging from the ease with which he galloped through the Highlanders, who made way for him, he thinks that if he had had but 50 resolute horse such as Colchester’s, he “had certainly,” as he says, “by all human appearance recovered all,” for although his whole line had begun to give way when he ordered the horse to follow him, the right of the enemy had not then moved from their ground.[599] While ruminating upon the “sad spectacle” which he now beheld, his mind preyed upon by the most gloomy reflections, he fortunately espied to the right, “a small heap of red coats,” which he immediately galloped for, and found it to consist of a part of the Earl of Leven’s regiment, mixed with a few stragglers from other regiments who had escaped from the swords of the Highlanders. The Earl himself, his Lieutenant-colonel, the Major, and most of the other officers of the regiment, were with this body. Mackay perceived a part of Hastings’s regiment marching up to the ground it had occupied at the commencement of the action. Having rode up to this party, he was informed by the Colonel that he had left his ground in pursuit of the enemy, a detachment of which had attempted to outflank him, but having wheeled to the right upon them with his pikes, they abandoned the idea of attacking him, and repaired to their main body, which they observed among the baggage at the river-side.
The plunder which the baggage offered was too tempting a lure for the Highlanders, whose destructive progress it at once arrested. It was in fact solely to this thirst for spoil that Mackay and the few of his men who escaped owed their safety, for had the Highlanders continued the pursuit, it is very probable that not a single individual of Mackay’s army would have been left alive to relate their sad disaster.[600]
As soon as Mackay had got up Hastings’s battalion and joined it to that of Leven’s, he despatched his nephew, Captain Mackay,—who, though he had received eight broad-sword wounds on his body, was still able to ride his horse,—in quest of such of his officers as might be within his reach, about the bottom of the hill, with orders to collect as many of their men as they could, and join the general.
This mission was totally unsuccessful, for although he had fallen in with several officers, few of them took any notice of him; and all who had survived the battle were now scattered far beyond Mackay’s reach. While receiving this afflicting intelligence, Mackay descried in the twilight, a large body of men, who appeared to form themselves along the edge of a wood on Balfour’s left, where Lieutenant-colonel Lauder had been posted with 200 men. As he was not yet aware of the fate of Lauder’s corps, which was among the first that fled, he supposed that the body he had observed might either be that party or another body of his men who had retired to the wood on the descent of the Highlanders, and he therefore rode off to reconnoitre them, after directing his officers to endeavour to put their men in a condition to fire one discharge, at least, if attacked. Mackay approached the party sufficiently near to discover that they were Dundee’s men, and having turned his horse’s head he walked slowly back, that he might not excite the apprehensions of the Highlanders. The ground on which Mackay stood with the wreck of his army, amounting to scarcely 400 men, was the farthest removed of any other part of the position he had selected in the morning, from the point to which he was necessarily obliged to direct his retreat, and over the intervening space he could not but expect to fall in with parties of the Highlanders, who would fall upon him, and kill or disperse his tired followers. But he extricated himself from the difficulties which beset him, with considerable adroitness. He advised them on no account to show any inclination to run, as it could not add to their personal safety, but, on the contrary, might endanger it the more, as the Highlanders, observing their terror, would certainly break in among them, and pursue them with the greater avidity. When about to retire down the hill the party was joined by Lord Belhaven, and a few other horsemen, who proved very serviceable as scouts during the retreat. Mackay then led his men slowly down the hill, and evaded the enemy so completely that he did not meet with the least interruption in his march. He retired across the Garry without molestation, and made a short halt to ascertain whether he was pursued. Seeing no disposition on the part of the Highlanders to follow him, he began to think of the best way of retiring out of Athole. All his officers advised him to return to Perth through the pass of Killiecrankie, but he saw proper to reject this advice, and resolved to march several miles up Athole and cross over the hills to Stirling.
Giving orders, therefore, to his men to march, he proceeded to the west along the bank of the river, and had the satisfaction, when about two miles from the field of battle, to come up with a party of about 150 fugitives almost without arms, under the command of Colonel Ramsay, who was quite at a loss what direction to take. Mackay then continued his march along the edge of a rivulet which falls into the Garry, till he came to some little houses. Here he obtained from one of the inhabitants, information as to the route he meant to follow, and having made himself acquainted, as far as he could, by an examination of his map, with the situation of the country through which he had to pass, he crossed the stream and proceeded across the hills towards Weem castle, the seat of the chief of the clan Menzies, whose son had been in the action with a company of 100 Highlanders he had raised for the service of the government. After a most fatiguing journey, he reached the castle before morning. Here he obtained some sleep and refreshment, of which he stood greatly in need, having since his departure from Dunkeld, on the morning preceding, marched about 40 miles.
Pass of Killiecrankie in last century. From an old crayon drawing.
The news of Mackay’s defeat had preceded his retreat; and on his march during the following day, he found the country through which he passed in an uproar, and every person arming in favour of King James. The people of Strathtay alarmed at the approach of Mackay’s men, whom they took to be Highlanders, and considering their houses and cattle in danger, set up a dreadful shout, which so frightened Mackay’s men that they began to flee back to the hills under an apprehension that the Highlanders were at hand. Mackay and some of his officers on horseback, by presenting their pistols and threatening the fugitives, succeeded in rallying them, but owing to the thickness of the morning more than 100 escaped, all of whom were killed, stripped, or taken prisoners by the country people. Mackay continued his march with very little halting all that day, being Sunday the 28th, and arrived late at night at Drummond castle, in which he had a garrison. Next day he reached Stirling with about 400 men.
On the morning after the battle—for night had thrown its curtain over the horrors of the scene, before the extent of the carnage could be ascertained—the field of battle and the ground between it and the river, extending as far as the pass, presented an appalling spectacle in the vast numbers of the dead which strewed the field, whose mutilated bodies attested the savage and unrelenting ferocity with which Mackay’s men had been hewn down by the Highlanders. Here might be seen a skull which had been struck off above the ears by a stroke from a broad-sword—there a head lying near the trunk from which it had been severed—here an arm or a limb—there a corpse laid open from the head to the brisket; while interspersed among these lifeless trunks, dejectaque membra, were to be seen broken pikes, small swords and muskets, which had been snapt asunder by the athletic blows of the Lochaber axe and broad-sword.[601]