The loss on the side of the Highlanders was trifling. Four officers,[944] and between 30 and 40 privates, were killed; and 5 or 6 officers, and between 70 and 80 privates, wounded.[945]
After the termination of the fight, the field of battle presented an appalling spectacle, rarely exhibited in the most bloody conflicts. As almost all the slain were cut down by the broadsword and the scythe, the ground was strewed with legs, arms, hands, noses, and mutilated bodies, while, from the deep gashes inflicted by these dreadful weapons, the field was literally soaked with gore. An instance of the almost resistless power of the broadsword occurred when a Highland gentleman, who led a division, broke through Mackay’s regiment: a grenadier, having attempted to parry off with his hand a blow made at him by the gentleman alluded to, had his hand lopped off and his skull cut above an inch deep. He expired on the spot.[946]
It was a most fortunate circumstance that the Highlanders, having no revengeful feeling to gratify on the present occasion, were easily induced to listen to the dictates of humanity. After the fury of their onset was abated, they not only readily gave, but even offered quarter; and when the action was over, appear to have displayed an unwonted sympathy for the wounded. A Highland officer thus exultingly notices the conduct of his companions in arms. “Now, whatever notions or sentiments the low country people may entertain of our Highlanders, this day there were many proofs to a diligent spectator, amidst all the bloodshed, (which at the first shock was unavoidable,) of their humanity and mercy; for I can, with the strictest truth and sincerity, declare, that I often heard our people call out to the soldiers if they wanted quarter; and we, the officers, exerted our utmost pains to protect the soldiers from their first fury, when either through their stubbornness or want of language they did not cry for quarters, and I observed some of our private men run to Port Seton for ale and other liquors to support the wounded. And as one proof for all, to my own particular observation, I saw a Highlander supporting a poor wounded soldier and carry him on his back into his house, and left him a sixpence at parting.”[947]
In their attentions to the wounded, the Highlanders had a good example in Charles himself, who not only issued orders for taking care of the wounded, but also remained on the field of battle till mid-day to see that his orders were fulfilled. Finding the few surgeons he had carried along with him inadequate to meet the demands of the wounded, he despatched one of his officers to Edinburgh to bring out all the surgeons, who accordingly instantly repaired to the field of battle. As the Highlanders felt an aversion to bury the dead, and as the country people could not be prevailed upon to assist in the care of the wounded,[948] Charles experienced great obstacles in carrying through his humane intentions. Writing to his father, on the evening of the battle, he thus alludes to them: “Tis hard my victory should put me under new difficulties which I did not feel before, and yet this is the case. I am charged both with the care of my friends and enemies. Those who should bury the dead are run away, as if it were no business of theirs. My Highlanders think it beneath them to do it, and the country people are fled away. However, I am determined to try if I can get people for money to undertake it, for I cannot bear the thought of suffering Englishmen to rot above the ground. I am in great difficulties how I shall dispose of my wounded prisoners. If I make a hospital of the church, it will be lookt upon as a great profanation, and of having violated my manifesto, in which I promised to violate no man’s property. If the magistrates would act, they would help me out of this difficulty. Come what will, I am resolved not to let the poor wounded men lye in the streets, and if I can do no better, I will make a hospital of the palace and leave it to them.”[949]
When congratulating themselves on the victory they had obtained, the Highlanders related to each other what they had done or seen. Instances were given of individual prowess which might appear incredible, were it not well-known that when fear seizes an army all confidence in themselves or their numbers is completely destroyed. On this occasion “the panic-terror of the English surpassed all imagination. They threw down their arms that they might run with more speed, thus depriving themselves by their fears of the only means of arresting the vengeance of the Highlanders. Of so many, in a condition from their numbers to preserve order in their retreat, not one thought of defending himself. Terror had taken entire possession of their minds.”[950] Of the cases mentioned, one was that of a young Highlander about fourteen years of age, scarcely formed, who was presented to the prince as a prodigy, having, it was said, killed fourteen of the enemy. Charles asking him if this was true, he replied, “I do not know if I killed them, but I brought fourteen soldiers to the ground with my sword.” Another instance was that of a Highlander, who brought ten soldiers, whom he had made prisoners, to the prince, driving them before him like a flock of sheep. With unexampled rashness, he had pursued a party of Cope’s men to some distance from the field of battle, along a road between two inclosures, and striking down the hindermost man of the party with a blow of his sword, called aloud at the same time, “Down with your arms.” The soldiers, terror-struck, complied with the order without looking behind them; and the Highlander, with a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other, made them do as he pleased. Yet, as the Chevalier Johnstone observes, these were “the same English soldiers who had distinguished themselves at Dettingen and Fontenoy, and who might justly he ranked amongst the bravest troops of Europe.”[951]
After doing every thing in his power for the relief of the wounded of both armies, and giving directions for the disposal of his prisoners, Charles partook of a small repast upon the field of battle, and thereafter proceeded to Pinkie House, a seat of the Marquis of Tweeddale, where he passed the night.
FOOTNOTES:
[879] Jacobite Memoirs, p. 31.
[880] Sixty of these Macdonalds had previously joined at Perth.
[881] The Gartmore MS. quoted in the appendix to Burt’s Letters makes the number only forty; but Home gives it as above.