Part 15

His orders were obeyed. As his line began to move, the enemy began a smart fire, which played chiefly upon the Atholl men, and was kept up by a detachment of Campbells, who were stationed behind the enclosure walls. It was the custom of the Highlanders to give a general discharge of their fire-arms, and then to rush, sword in hand, upon their foes: and the only chance of a victory for their party that day, was a general shock of their whole line at once; for the fury and valour of these northern warriors produced results almost incredible. Unhappily, several circumstances destroyed this advantage. The two armies were not exactly parallel to each other, the right of Prince Charles's being nearer to the foe than the left. The impetuosity of the Highlanders was such, that they broke their ranks before it was time to give their fire; their eagerness to come up with an enemy that had so greatly the advantage of them at such a distance, made them rush on with such violence, and in such a confusion, that their fire-arms were of little service.[194] This, it appears, was the disadvantage which Lord George had apprehended. But there was still another inconvenience: the wind, which had favoured the Jacobites at Falkirk, was now against them. They were buried in a cloud of smoke, and felt their enemies without seeing them. In spite of all these obstacles they went, sword in hand, and broke the first line of the enemy; but the second advancing, and firing on them, they gave way, leaving, says one who beheld the terrific scene, "many brave fellows on the spot." The rout, which began on the right of the army, soon became general. The right line was, in fact, beaten before the centre could advance to support it: and the centre of the army gave way, whilst the Macdonalds, who were advancing on the left, seeing themselves abandoned on the right, and exposed to be flanked by enemies who had nothing to oppose them in front, retired also.[195]

Lord George Murray behaved with incomparable valour, as indeed did the whole of the line which he commanded, which was received by the enemy with bayonets. These were the more destructive, as the Highlanders would never be at the trouble, on a march, to carry targets. Yet the Duke's line of battle was broken in several places, and two pieces of cannon were taken.[196] The brave troops whom Lord George commanded marched up to the very point of the bayonets, which they could not see until they were upon them, on account of the smoke which was driven in their faces. As the first line of the English army was broken, and as others were brought up to their relief, some cannon, charged with cartouch shot from their second line, caused Lord George Murray's horse to start and plunge so much, that he thought the animal was wounded: he quitted his stirrups, and was thrown. "After thus being dismounted, I brought up," writes Lord George, "two regiments of our second line, who gave them fire, but nothing could be done; all was lost."[197] The only good effect of the reinforcement was to arrest for a while the pursuit of the cavalry, and thus to save many lives. The field of battle was soon abandoned to the fury of an enemy, whose brutal thirst for vengeance increased as the danger and opposition diminished. Some may consider that the day of Culloden was a day of disgrace to the Highlanders; but to them it was an event of honour, compared with the discredit which it brought upon their foes. To England was the disgrace. It was, at all events, even if we measure the standard of honour by the degree of military success, an inglorious victory. Independent of the inequality of numbers, was the inequality of circumstances; but greater, in many senses, on this occasion, were the conquered, than their conquerors.

The Prince, seeing his army entirely routed, was at length prevailed upon to retire. Most of his horse soldiers assembled round his person; and he rode leisurely, and in good order, for the enemy advanced very leisurely over the ground. "They made," observes Maxwell, "no attack where there was any body of the Prince's men together, but contented themselves with sabering such unfortunate people as fell in their way, single and disarmed." "As the Duke's corps," Lord Elcho relates, "continued to pursue in order of battle, always firing their cannon and platoons in advancing, there were not so many people taken or killed as there would have been had they detached corps to pursue; but every body that fell into their hands got no quarter, except a few whom they reserved for public punishment."

In the flight of the Prince's army, most of the left wing took the road to Inverness; the right wing crossed the water of Nairn, and went to Ruthven of Badenoch; the rest, to the number of five hundred, mostly officers, followed the Prince into Stratherick, where he had stopped about four miles from the field of Culloden. Of the Prince's conduct after the battle, a very painful impression is given by Lord Elcho. "As he had taken it into his head he had been betrayed, and particularly by Lord George Murray, he seemed very diffident of everybody except the Irish officers; and he appeared very anxious to know whether he had given them all higher commissions than they had at their arrival, on purpose that they might get them confirmed to them upon their return to France. He neither spoke to any of the Scots' officers present, nor inquired after any of the absent. Nor, indeed, at any of the preceding battles did he ever inquire after any of the wounded officers. He appeared very uneasy as long as the Scots were about him; and in a short time ordered them all to go to Ruthven of Badenoch, where he would send them orders; but before they had rode a mile, he sent Mr. Sheridan after them, to tell them that they might disperse, and everybody shift for himself the best way he could. Lord George Murray and Lord John Drummond repeated the same orders to all the body of the army that had assembled at Ruthven. The Prince kept with him some of Fitzjames's Horse, and went that night to a house in the head of Stratherick, where he met Lord Lovat and a great many other Scots' gentlemen, who advised him not to quit the country, but to stay and gather together his scattered forces. But he was so prejudiced against the Scots, that he was afraid they would give him up to make their peace with the Government; for some of the Irish were at pains to relate to him, in very strong terms, how the Scots had already sold his great-grandfather to the English: and, as he was naturally of a suspicious temper, it was not a difficult matter to persuade him of it. And he always believed it until the fidelity of the Highlanders shown to him during the long time he was hid in their country, convinced him and everybody else of the contrary."[198]

This history of distrust and ingratitude is, however, to be contrasted with very different statements. When the Prince heard from Colonel Ker, after the battle, that Lord George Murray had been thrown from his horse, but was not wounded, Charles, in the presence of all the officers who were assembled around his person, desired Colonel Ker to find out Lord George, and to "take particular care of him." Nor was there, among the whole number of those writers who witnessed the battle of Culloden, a dissentient voice with regard to the bravery of their Lieutenant-General and to the admirable disposition of his troops. Had he, like Lord Strathallan, sought and found his fate upon the field of battle, his memory would have been exalted into that of a hero.

Two days after the defeat, the Duke of Perth, the Marquis of Tullibardine, Lord George Murray, Lord Ogilvie, Lord Nairn, and several other chieftains and officers met at Ruthven in Badenoch, and discussed the events which had ended in the ruin of their cause. They were unanimous in concluding that the night attack, upon which many persons insisted as practicable, could not have been attempted.[199]

For some time after the battle, hopes were entertained of an effectual rallying of the forces. By a letter from one of the Prince's aides-de-camp, Alexander Macleod, to Clunie Macpherson, on the very day of the battle, it appears that his party soon hoped, or pretended to hope, "to pay Cumberland back in his own coin." A review of the fragment of the army was projected at Fort-Augustus, on the seventeenth of April; and amends were promised to be made for the "ruffle at Culloden."[200] "For God's sake," wrote Mr. Macleod, "make haste to join us; and bring with you all the people that can possibly be got together. Take care in

## particular of Lumisden and Sheridan, as they carry with them the sinews

of war."

To this letter Lord George Murray added some lines, which prove how hopeless, at that moment, he considered any project of rallying; and, indeed, even before the epistle was dispatched to Clunie, the Prince had left Gorteleg, and taken refuge in "Clanranald's country."

Notwithstanding the Prince's flight, Lord George Murray, presuming that he could still make a stand, remained at Ruthven, where a force of between two and three thousand men was assembled. It was found, however, impossible, from the want of provisions, to keep such an army together; and, in a few days, a message from Charles, ordering his ill-fated adherents to disperse, decided their fate. At this epoch Lord George Murray addressed a letter to Charles, certainly not calculated to soothe the feelings of the unfortunate young man, nor to conciliate the bitter spirit which afterwards, during the lapse of years, never abated towards his former General. The letter began thus.[201]

"May it please your Royal Highness,

As no person in these Kingdoms ventured more frankly in the cause than myself, and as I had more at stake than almost all the others put together, I cannot but be very deeply affected with our late loss, and present situation; and I declare, that were your Royal Highness's person in safety, the loss of the cause, and the unfortunate and unhappy state of my countrymen is the only thing that grieves me; for I thank God I have resolution to bear my own family's ruin without a grudge."

After this preface Lord George, in no softened terms, pointed out what he conceived to be the causes of the failure of the enterprise;--the imprudence of having set up the standard without aid from France; the deficiencies and blunders of Mr. O'Sullivan, whose business it was to reconnoitre the field of battle, but who had not so much as viewed it before the affair of Culloden. He next pointed out the negligence, if not treachery, of Mr. Hay, who had the charge of the provisions. To the disgraceful mismanagement of this important department might, indeed, the ruin of the army be traced. "For my own part," added Lord George, "I never had any particular discussion with either of them; but I ever thought them incapable and unfit to serve in the stations they were placed in."

After these too just remarks, Lord George formally resigned his commission into the Prince's hands. It had, it appears, been his intention to have done so after the failure at Blair; but he was dissuaded by his friends. "I hope your Royal Highness will now accept of my demission. What commands you may have for me in any other situation, please honour me with them."

This letter was dated from Ruthven, two days after the battle of Culloden. The inference which has been drawn from it was, that Lord George did not contemplate the abandonment of the campaign. It appears to have been his opinion that the Highlanders could have made a summer campaign without any risk, marching, as they could, through places in which no regular troops could follow them. They could never starve as long as there were sheep and cattle in the country; and they might probably have carried on an offensive, instead of a defensive war. But Charles, disheartened, as men of over sanguine tempers usually are, in misfortune, to the last degree, resolved on escaping to France. He addressed a farewell letter to the Chiefs, and then commenced that long and perilous course of wanderings in which his character rose to heroism, and which presents one of the most interesting episodes in history of which our annals can boast.

Lord George Murray was long a fugitive from place to place in his native country, before he could find means to escape to the continent. In December (1746) he visited, in private, his friends in Edinburgh, and then embarking at Anstruther, in the Frith of Forth, he set sail for Holland. Whether he ever returned to his native country is doubtful, although it appears, from a letter among the Stuart papers, that he had it in contemplation, in order to bring over his wife and family.

His fate in a foreign land, however embittered by the ingratitude and hatred of Charles Edward, was cheered by the presence of his wife and children, with the exception of his eldest son, who was retained in Scotland, and educated under the auspices of James Duke of Atholl. His first movement after reaching Holland, was to repair to Rome, there to pay his respects to the Chevalier St. George, and to unfold to him the motives of his conduct in the foregoing campaign of 1745. The Chevalier, affectionately attached as he was to his eldest son, was aware of his defects, and sensible of the pernicious influence which was exercised over his mind by the enemies of Lord George Murray; James, who never appears in a more amiable light than in his correspondence, endeavoured to conciliate both parties. His letters to Charles Edward, treasured among the Stuart papers, display kindness and great good sense. His mediation in this instance was, however, wholly ineffectual. After the treacherous conduct of Murray of Broughton, the Prince began even to suspect that Lord George was concerned in the baseness of that individual. This notion was urgently combated by James; at the same time he recommended the Prince, not only as a matter of right, but of policy, to conciliate Lord George, who "owned that he had been wrong towards Charles, but insisted upon his zeal in the Prince's service." "Persons," adds the politic Chevalier, "like him may do both good and hurt; and it is prudent to manage them, and would manifestly be of prejudice could they be able to say their former services had been disregarded." But James addressed himself to one who could never dissimulate. Whatever Charles's errors might be, they were not envenomed by any portion of cunning, and no motive of prudence could soften him towards one whom he unjustly disliked.

Lord George, who expected no favour from the English Government, was, nevertheless, anxious to be "near home." He left Rome in May 1747, and after remaining some time at Bologna, proceeded to Paris.[202] Here Charles was playing that ill-judged and desperate game, which was better suited to a rash impostor, than to the acknowledged descendant of a long line of monarchs. Here he was rapidly effacing the remembrance of the brave and generous wanderer who trusted to the honesty of the Highlanders; who bore his misfortunes as if he had been born in that land of heroes.

The first idea of Charles, upon hearing of Lord George Murray's arrival in Paris, was to imprison him as a traitor. "I hope in God," writes his father to the young Prince, "you will not think of getting Lord George secured after all I wrote to you about him, and will at least receive him civilly." But no intercessions could nullify the indignation of Charles towards his former general.

It was far from Lord George Murray's intention, if we may believe the Chevalier St. George, again to embroil himself in public affairs, or even to remain in Paris. His intention was to live privately in Germany or Flanders, in the hope of being rejoined by his wife. Upon reaching Paris, he informed the Prince of his arrival; and proposed paying his respects to him at St. Omer, where Charles was then living. Late on the evening of the eleventh of July, 1747, a gentleman, who at first refused to give his name, but who afterwards announced himself as Mr. Stafford, called on Lord George to convey to him a message desiring him not to "go near" the Prince, and ordering him to leave Paris immediately. An answer was returned, signifying that the Prince's commands should be obeyed. Lord George left Paris, and he and the unfortunate young man whom he had served, met no more. It is possible that the irritation of Charles was aggravated by the recent intelligence of his brother's having become a cardinal: upon receiving the news of that event he shut himself up for some hours alone. The name of his brother was no longer to be uttered in his presence nor his health drunk at table.[203] Charles was at this time in the power of both the Kellys, who are described by one of his adherents as "false, ambitious, and sordidly avaricious."

After visiting Poland, where he was received by Marshall Belriski as a relation, and where he endeavoured to negotiate the restitution of some crown jewels to James, as in right of the Chevalier's wife, the Princess Sobieski, Lord George settled at Cleves. He changed his name to that of De Valignie, and here he remained in obscurity with his family. "My wife," he writes to the Chevalier St. George, "came here on the tenth of September, 1748, but was soon after seized with an intermitting fever, which has not yet left her. She begs leave to throw herself at your Majesty's feet." In 1750, Lord George removed to Emmerick; here he wrote an account of his campaign, which he addressed to Mr. Hamilton of Bangour; from this, repeated extracts have been given in this memoir of his life. The kindness of James Stuart towards him continued unabated: he recommended him to the notice of the court of France; and consulted him as to the probable success of a future enterprise in Scotland. On such a project Lord George Murray expressed himself cautiously, yet somewhat encouragingly; and declared himself ready to shed the last drop of his blood in the cause. Happily his zeal was not again put to the test. Lord George appears, in his letters, to have cherished in his retirement at Emmerick, a lingering hope that at some future day the Stuarts might make another attempt. He was now in the decline of life, and yearning to behold again the country which he was destined to see no more. "How happily," he writes to Mr. Edgar,[204] "should you and I be to sit over a bottle in Angus, or Perthshire, after a restoration, and talk over old services. May that soon happen!"

Meantime some members of Lord George's family suffered the severest distress. His uncle, Lord Nairn, had, it is true, escaped to France; but Lady Nairn and her daughter, Lady Clementina, were reduced to the utmost penury in Scotland. They remained in their native country, probably with the hope of saving the wreck of their fortunes, until all that the troops had spared was sold, and the money which accrued from the sale was exhausted. Such was the rapacity of the plunderers, that they took even Lady Nairn's watch and clothes. The Government, although in possession of her estate, never gave her one farthing for subsistence, but even made her pay a rent for the garden of one of Lord Nairn's own houses in which she lived. But this is only one instance of that catalogue of cruelties towards the Jacobites, which it would take volumes to detail.

In 1751, Lord George Murray visited Dresden, where, owing to the mediation of James Stuart, he was well received. His letters at this period refer frequently to the exertions which he made for Lord Macleod, the son of Lord Cromartie: to this young man a company was given in Finland, in the Prussian service, and the Chevalier St. George furnished him with his accoutrements and equipage.

The eldest son of Lord George Murray remained, as we have seen, in Scotland; but the second was, through the favour of the Chevalier, recommended to the especial notice of the court of Prussia. The visit of Lord George to Dresden seems to have been chiefly designed to push the interests of this young man, who was introduced to the Count and Countess De Bruhl. The youth was to study the military science and exercises at Dresden, and at the same time to enjoy, in the house of the Pope's Nuncio, the advantage of seeing company, and of forming connections.

Having arranged these affairs, Lord George returned to Emmerick. His wife had left him for Scotland, in order to be confined there; and this event, attended by so much inconvenience, and prefaced by a voyage of twelve days, "put her," as Lord George observed, "somewhat out of countenance, after twenty-three years' marriage." Her return was delayed for some time. "I shall be pretty lonely this winter (1751)," writes Lord George to Mr. Edgar, "for my wife, who was brought to bed of a daughter the middle of September, recovered but very slowly, and now the season of the year is too far advanced for her to venture so long a voyage; besides, she has some thoughts that Lady Sinclair (his daughter) may come with her in the spring." In his solitude, anxieties about his patrimonial property added to the sorrows of the exile. "I am told,"[205] he writes, "that the Duke of Atholl is desirous of selling the roialty of the Isle of Man to the London Government, for which, they say, he is offered fifteen thousand pounds sterling. Had it not been for my situation, I believe he could not have done it without my consent; but, I'm sorry to say it, and it is a truth, that he is full as much my enemy as any of that Government. He has sent my eldest son abroad, but, as I understand, with positive orders not to see nor correspond with me. All this is the more extraordinary that, thirty years ago, before he turned courtier, he seemed to have very different notions. Most people in Britain now regard neither probity nor any other virtue--all is selfish and vainal (venial). But how can I complean of such hard usage, when my royal master has met with what is a thousand times more cruel: he bears it like a Christian hero, and it would ill suit me to repine. I thank the Almighty I never did, and I think it my greatest honour and glory to suffer in so just and upright a cause." Hope, however, of one day returning to Scotland, was not extinct. He thus continues: "Upon receipt of the note you sent me, I have gott the carabin, for which I return you many thanks. I expect to kill a wild bore with it; but I fain hope Providence may still order it that I may make use of it at home, and, if all succeeds to our wishes, how happy should I think myself to send you, when you returned to Angus, a good fatt stagg, shott in the forest of Atholl with your own gun."