by R J M Pugh
Fourth Jacobite Rising, 1745 – 46
On two occasions France had committed formidable fleets for the restoration of the Stuarts and twice the enterprises had ended in disaster. Never again would the French offer assistance on such a scale, although Louis XV would continue to make a public show – in France’s interests – of creating mischief for the House of Hanover while failing to commit significant resources to the Jacobite cause in Scotland. Understandably, Louis was more concerned with the survival of his own throne and country. Although there was little love between the Prince and his father, it soon became apparent to the young man that he and he alone would have to draw his sword and liberate the people of Britain from the unhappy domination of the House of Hanover. That was what he believed. He also naively assumed that the entire populations of Scotland and England would rise in his support, providing armies which he would personally lead to victory, restoring his and his father’s rights and honours. These were the dreams of an idealistic, stubborn young man who would cause not only bloodshed in Scotland but also bring about the end of a way of life in the Highlands which had existed for centuries.
The headstrong, romantic, determined, unrealistic and – it has to be said – jealous, vindictive, petty-minded and frequently inebriated Charles Edward Stuart (hereinafter simply referred to as the Prince) was a disaster waiting to happen in Scotland. When Louis XV informed the Prince that he required all his troops in his struggle with George II, the young man took the bull by the horns; he would achieve his ambition alone, flattering himself that his handsome face and his charismatic appeal would bring the Clan chiefs and their following to the standard of the House of Stuart, the White Rose and oppose the White Horse, the standard of Hanover. The Prince possessed all the symptoms often found in narcissistic egotists who indulge in self-delusion and are unable to face reality when their supposed abilities are found wanting. He relied overmuch on the advice of fawning favourites and romantics like himself rather than men who possessed the military skills and judge of character he woefully lacked.
During the wilderness years between 1719 and 1745, the Jacobite flame had been kept alight by the House of Stuart’s generosity to certain Highland Clan chiefs who received honours, titles, money and other gifts. The foremost recipients were Donald Cameron of Lochiel, Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat, and James Drummond, Duke of Perth; these three men were part of an Association of Highland Gentlemen prepared to govern Scotland for the Prince. Through Jacobite agents such as William Macgregor (Drummond of Balhaldy) and John Murray of Broughton – a man who would prove a traitor to the Jacobite Cause – the Association kept in touch with the Old Pretender and the Prince. The Scottish Jacobites, usually at loggerheads with each other in their jockeying for position, were at least united in one aim which they believed would bring success to a rebellion – military assistance from France. Negotiations between Drummond of Balhaldy, Murray of Broughton and the French ministers came to nought; a lesser spirit than the Prince might have accepted the outcome but the failed talks only added fuel to the fire of the Prince’s determination. The stalemate was broken on 11 May 1745 when the cream of the British troops fighting France was cut off at Fontenoy in France, where Marshal de Saxe defeated the British, Austrian and Dutch allied army commanded by the Duke of Cumberland, son of George II. Taking advantage of the confusion which gripped London, the Prince grasped the initiative; seeing a window of opportunity he impetuously borrowed 180,000 livres from a firm of bankers, persuading his father to pawn the family jewels but failing to inform him how he would use the money.3 With this capital sum the Prince armed and equipped two ships – the Elizabeth, a frigate of sixty-eight guns and the smaller Du Teillay (sometimes called the Doutelle), a brig of eighteen guns. The Elizabeth carried the bulk of the weapons – broadswords, gunpowder, muskets and bullets; on 22 June the Prince boarded the Du Teillay and embarked from Nantes for Belle Isle; on 5 July he was joined by the Elizabeth. On board the Du Teillay the Prince was accompanied by the titular (nominal) Duke of Atholl (Marquis of Tullibardine), Sir John MacDonald, Aeneas (Angus) MacDonald and the Irish Colonel Francis Strickland, Sir Thomas Sheridan, Colonel William O’Sullivan and George Kelly. These men became known as the Seven Men of Moidart.
Off the Lizard, Cornwall, the two vessels came in view of HMS Lion, a sixty-eight-gun British man o’war, whose Captain Brett immediately engaged the Elizabeth; for six hours the two warships fought it out, both being severely disabled. Finally, they disengaged, Elizabeth with the store of arms and ammunition having to limp back to France; Lion was too badly damaged to pursue her. It was hardly an auspicious start. The Prince was undeterred; under cover of a thick mist, the Du Teillay managed to evade two British men o’war; she eventually dropped anchor off the island of Eriskay in the Outer Hebrides on 23 July. It was a day of mist, rain and bitter wind. The Prince was disguised, wearing the soutane of an abbe, hatless, his long fair hair resting on his shoulders. The Prince had set foot on Scottish soil for the first time in his twenty-three years; in his heart, he believed he had come home.
The small party was led to Angus MacDonald’s ‘black house,’ a makeshift dwelling of rough stones knitted together with a turf roof and no chimney; the smoke from the fire simply escaped through a hole in the thatch. Highland hospitality was meagre but nourishing; the Prince and his companions dined on freshly-caught flounders smoked over the peat fire.4 A message was sent to Alexander MacDonald of Boisdale, South Uist, inviting him to attend on the Prince; he arrived the following morning. Boisdale’s advice to the Prince was blunt and to the point; the Clan chief told him that, as he had brought neither troops nor weapons, he should go back to France. Boisdale brought other bitter news; Clan chiefs MacDonald of Sleate and Macleod of Skye shared his view. They too advised that the Prince should return to France as there was nothing for him in Scotland. A message also arrived from John Murray of Broughton in Edinburgh stating that without at least 6,000 troops the Rising stood no chance of success. It was heartbreaking news indeed.
The Prince returned to the Du Teillay that afternoon, setting sail after dark to avoid the British men o’war patrolling in the Sound of Barra. The following morning, the brig dropped anchor in the sea loch between Arisaig and Moidart, the country of MacDonald of Kinlochmoidart, Aeneas MacDonald’s brother. In due course, MacDonald of Boisdale’s brother, Donald MacDonald of Clanranald, Alexander MacDonald of Glenaladale and Aeneas MacDonald of Dalily arrived; after some discussion below deck, the company went on deck where a tent had been erected. They were joined by a tall young man to whom the anguished Prince turned, asking if he would help him.
The young man reputedly replied thus: ‘I will, by God. Though not another Highlander should draw sword for you, I will.’ The young man was Ranald MacDonald of Clanranald, one of the key figures and heroes of the ’Forty-Five and later Chief of his clan; henceforth throughout this chapter he is referred to as Young Clanranald.
Donald MacDonald of Kinlochmoidart was the first Clan chief to declare for the Prince, albeit reluctantly, along with his son and heir, Ranald MacDonald. At least it was a start. However, the Prince knew he had need of the most powerful Jacobite Clan chief of all, Donald Cameron of Lochiel. Along with the MacDonald chiefs, ‘Gentle’ Lochiel could turn the wavering Clan chiefs to the Prince’s cause. When Lochiel met the Prince, his advice was blunt – go back to France. Then he changed his mind on condition that if the Rising failed, the Prince and his father would indemnify him against the loss of his estates as he had a bounden duty to look after his people. As a quid pro quo, Lochiel also asked that should the Rising succeed, his immediate family and clan would benefit from the estates of those Clan chiefs who did not join the Cause. (In this, Lochiel had an eye on the rich and fertile lands of the Duke of Argyll, chief of the Clan Campbell.) 5 The Prince agreed to Lochiel’s conditions and intimated that he would raise his standard at Glenfinnan, which he did on 19 August 1745. (The standard consisted of a scarlet field with a white centre, the White Rose of
the House of Stuart.)
On 19 August the Prince invited the gouty William Murray, Marquis of Tullibardine to read aloud his proclamation on that hot summer’s day. Tullibardine proclaimed James of the House of Stuart ‘King James the Eighth of Scotland and Third of England’ and asserted his just rights to claim the three kingdoms of Scotland, England and Ireland. Also, his son, the Chevalier Charles Edward Stuart, would act as regent and what he did would be done in his father’s name. By all accounts the proclamation was delivered in English and many present that day spoke only Gaelic; no matter, the message was soon understood, the brandy flowing freely. That fateful day, the Prince was flushed both by words and liquor.
Hostilities had actually begun five days earlier. The ageing John Gordon of Glenbucket had struck the first blow by taking into custody Captain Swettenham, a military engineer from Ruthven Barracks who had been ordered to reinforce Fort William. Swettenham was brought before the Prince who set him free after receiving his parole that he would not take up arms against him for a year and a day. The Prince knew – or was advised – that Swettenham would head straight for General Sir John Cope and inform him of the Jacobite army’s whereabouts, which he duly did. Cope had begun his march from Edinburgh at the head of about 2,000 troops, intent on engaging the Jacobites before they could leave the Highlands and menace Lowland Scotland. Two days later, MacDonald of Keppoch and a party of Glengarry MacDonalds ambushed two companies of Royal Scots (about eighty men) under the command of a Captain Scott on his way from Fort Augustus to Fort William. Four or five soldiers were killed and about a dozen wounded. The soldiers were taken prisoner without the loss of a single MacDonald; they were given the option of joining the Prince but they refused to a man.
Meanwhile in London, all was not well. After Walpole’s resignation in 1742, Lord Tweeddale had been appointed to the revived office of Secretary of State for Scotland, while Lord Islay, now 3rd Duke of Argyll was still regarded as virtual ruler of the country. Tweeddale’s policies were largely aimed at thwarting his rival Argyll rather than the good of Scotland; this explains why the government in Westminster had made no contingency plans to respond to an emergency which had been expected for some months. When Lord Marchmont proposed that he and several other nobles be given commissions to raise armed levies in Scotland, Tweeddale informed him there was no need as the irregular rebel levies of the Prince would be no match for well equipped, well trained and well fed government troops. One grave error on Tweeddale’s part was the failure to provide arms and ammunition for local people to defend their townships against the rebels.6 Also, the clans loyal to the Hanoverian government had surrendered their serviceable weapons under Duncan Forbes of Culloden’s Disarming Act of 1725 whereas the disaffected Jacobite clans had kept theirs. Tweeddale refused to provide the loyal clans with weapons, arguing that he might be arming potential enemies.
General Sir John Cope commanding the government army in Scotland had his hands tied from the outset; Tweeddale informed him that he must make no important movements without first clearing them with Lord Advocate Craigie and Lord Milton, the Lord Chief Justice-Clerk, both being staunch allies of his and, by extension, opponents of Argyll, Tweeddale’s rival. This was another grave error; through his divided counsel Tweeddale had offered the Prince an opportunity which would otherwise have been denied him. Incompetence and petty rivalry in government circles was more advantageous to the Prince than a French army and possible Jacobite recruits.
Despite Tweeddale’s exhortations and bureaucratic red tape, Cope laid his plans carefully; he marched out of Edinburgh, intending to make for Fort Augustus, where he hoped to nip the White Rose in the bud before it could blossom. Had this occurred in August instead of September, in all probability, there would have been no ’Forty-Five. Cope’s army numbered less than 1,500; of the 3,000 government troops in Scotland, most of the remaining 1,500 were raw levies dispersed among the strongpoints and garrisons throughout the north. However, Cope expected to recruit from the loyal clans along the route to Fort Augustus. In the event, not a single clansman joined him. At Dalnacardoch in the Forest of Atholl, Cope met Captain Swettenham whose news disquietened him. According to that officer, the Prince’s army numbered 3,000 and was marching to the Pass of Corrieyairick to block Cope’s road to Fort Augustus. It seemed that battle would be drawn on ground favourable to the Highland mode of fighting, except for one detail unknown to Swettenham and Cope; the Jacobites possessed little shot and powder for a major engagement. In his camp at Glengarry, the Prince was informed that the incompetent Colonel O’Sullivan had buried most of the black powder, ammunition and the eighteen small cannon taken off the Du Teillay before she set sail for France. The vital ordnance had been concealed on the shore of Loch Eil as there were insufficient horses to transport it and the clansmen refused to be treated as pack animals. (The vital stores and field pieces were in fact dug up by the garrison of Fort William, from where spies had observed O’Sullivan burying them.)
No matter, the Prince declared that he would make up the loss of arms and munitions by defeating Cope. On 4 September, the Jacobite army reached Perth; the Prince confessed that he had but a single guinea (£1.05) in his purse, although he hoped to relieve the town treasury of the money collected by local taxes. At Perth the Prince was joined by several notable recruits – James Drummond, titular 3rd Duke of Perth,7 Lord George Murray, Lord Nairne, Laurence, 10th Lord Oliphant of Gask, Lord Strathallan and James, Chevalier de Johnstone whose father was an Edinburgh merchant. The proceedings over the next few days took on the characteristics of a Highland reel. On learning of the Jacobites’ position at Corrieyairick, a deep glen with steep, rock-strewn sides which could be easily defended by a small force, Cope altered his route to Fort Augustus, taking the right fork of the road at Spean Bridge and marching via Ruthven Barracks to evade the Prince. After some discussion on strategy in the Jacobite camp, it was agreed not to pursue Cope – much to the disgust of many clansmen hoping to gain booty – but to make for Edinburgh, leaving Cope to cool his heels in the north. This would prove a sensible tactic. The Prince crossed the river Forth at the Fords of Frew, arriving at the outskirts of Edinburgh on 16 September. At Colt Bridge, three miles west of Edinburgh, the Jacobite army encountered two dragoon regiments led by Colonel James Gardiner and Colonel Hamilton; the dragoons were in poor shape, they and their horses suffering from malnutrition. When they saw the rebel army, the two colonels ordered their men to disperse into the surrounding countryside as they did not consider them fit to take on the Highland army. This incident became known as the Canter of Coltbrig.
The Prince sent a polite summons to the Provost of Edinburgh, Archibald Stewart and the town magistrates requesting that he be allowed to enter the town; at first the town fathers refused and attempted to negotiate terms. The Prince would not accept anything less than unconditional surrender. On the night of 16 September, a body of Highlanders led by Cameron of Lochiel rushed the wicket gate at the Nether Bow, gaining entry without discharging a shot. The Prince was now master of all Scotland. The following day, he made a splendid entrance into Edinburgh; at the High Street’s market cross, a proclamation was read out, declaring James VIII and III King of Scotland and the Prince his regent.
In the north, Cope received news of the Jacobite occupation of Edinburgh. Hoping for the arrival of promised reinforcements from the Duke of Cumberland’s army in Flanders, Cope, now in Aberdeen, ordered transports to ferry his army from there to either Berwick or Dunbar. The Hanoverian army landed at Dunbar between 17 and 18 September; Cope’s hoped-for Dutch reinforcements had not arrived in Berwick but he was resolved to march on the Prince while he remained in Edinburgh. Cope was anxious to defeat the Prince as he was fearful the Highland army would be reinforced by France and the as yet uncommitted clans. Time was of the essence.
Cope led his army from Dunbar on 19 September, reaching Haddington that afternoon. In Edinburgh, the Prince held a hasty council of war and it was agreed to confront Cope well
away from the capital; on 20 September, the Jacobite army reached Carberry Hill overlooking Musselburgh, the selfsame spot where the Prince’s ancestor Mary, Queen of Scots had surrendered to the Protestant Lords of the Congregation in 1567. Now reinforced by men from Clans Maclachlan, Glenmoriston and Atholl, the Prince’s army numbered 2,400; facing him was Cope’s slightly smaller army of about 2,100, although the Hanoverian army contained two regiments of dragoons – mainly comprised of the lacklustre Irishmen who had run away at Colt Bridge on 16 September – and six light field pieces and four mortars.
Prestonpans
Over the next twenty-four hours, Cope took up his position at Prestonpans, East Lothian, changing it no fewer than four times as he was unsure from which direction the Prince would attack. His final position faced east; his rear was protected by the high garden walls of Preston House, his right flank resting on a near impassable marsh known locally as the Riggonhead Defile. Cope’s left wing was commanded by Colonel Murray and flanked by Colonel Hamilton’s dragoon regiment; the regiments of Lascelles and Guise held the centre, with Lee’s regiment on the right, flanked by Colonel Gardiner’s dragoons. For some inexplicable reason, the artillery commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Whitefoord was stationed on the extreme right rather than the centre. During the night of 20/21 September, the Prince’s war council were undecided whether the attack should be mounted from the east or the west; an advance from the east would be advantageous to the Highland army as the rising sun would be in the eyes of the Hanoverians.