CULLODEN. The very name reeks of tragedy. Visit the place and you cannot fail to be affected by the feeling of dread that hangs around the battlefield.

You really do sense that something evil happened there, as if the ghosts of the fallen have taken residence and defy you to pass by without acknowledging their sacrifice. Something died there alongside the combatants, something as intangible as a dream.

Yet last week when we left Prince Charles Edwards Stuart and his army in Edinburgh after the astonishing victory at Prestonpans, Culloden was still months away. The battle and the lead-up to it forms the majority of this part of our series on the Jacobite risings.

(I had a very good point made by e-mail from a reader which was that the aftermath of Culloden was too long and too catastrophic for Scotland to be treated as just part of this series, so I will conclude next week with the facts of the British Government’s attempt at genocide which, I firmly believe, was the progenitor of the Highland Clearances.)

Having imposed his will on his council of war that they would now march south, Charles nevertheless took the advice to go via Carlisle and the west coast rather than march to Newcastle where General Wade was preparing a rather more formidable force than that which Sir John Cope had sent into the field at Prestonpans. The Jacobites also knew that the Duke of Cumberland had been summoned home from Flanders with a battle-hardened army, so time was of the essence if they were to strike deep into England.

On November 1, Charles split his army into two columns at Dalkeith and one marched south-east to fool Wade into thinking the Jacobites were coming to Newcastle – it worked as he stayed there – while Charles led the other column south-west to the Border where both columns were re-united, apart from the hundreds of Highlanders who had deserted, mainly because they needed to be home before winter set in.

Carlisle was besieged and surrendered by November 14. The inhabitants believed that the Highlanders would eat their children and were pleasantly surprised at the discipline of the army.

Now came an incident that amply displayed the internecine quarrels that would colour the whole campaign. Lord George Murray resigned his commission as general after Charles put the Duke of Perth in charge of dealing with Carlisle. Charles bluntly accepted Murray’s resignation – in effect he was reduced to the status of a staff officer – and put the Duke of Perth in complete charge. But the Duke was a Catholic and Charles was told this fact would anger his English Protestant supporters, so the Prince duly reversed his decision and Murray became general again, though the two men’s relationship was seriously damaged.

The Prince wanted to carry on and in two divisions, the army marched south via Preston to Manchester, stopping at every town to proclaim James Stuart as King. Sadly for the Prince, however, the promise by English Jacobites to flock to his flag did not materialise, apart from a Manchester contingent, and his contention that France would invade southern England to support the Rising was simply not believed.

By this time the Jacobite army numbered barely 5,000 men, and as they marched on to Derby it became clear that Wade and Cumberland both had armies well in excess of that number. Furthermore, London was also being invested with a massive army – “witnesses” who were possibly agents provocateurs said that London army numbered 30,000 alone.

Faced on three sides by insurmountable odds, Murray and the other leaders advised the Prince that the best course of action was to return to Scotland. Some had never wanted to leave, and no matter how Charles railed against the retreat, he eventually had to concede.

What the Jacobites did not know was that while Wade was prepared for battle, Cumberland was not and meanwhile London was in panic according to contemporary accounts that have since been discredited. What is true is that the “30,000” army was merely a militia that would probably have run at the first musket volley.

Some eyewitnesses did speak of the Royal Court in particular being completely overwhelmed by fear – King George II was said to have ordered ships to be ready to sail to Holland should the Jacobites win the anticipated battle for London, though he did say he would lead his troops in that battle and had done so at the Battle of Dettingen.

Battle came there none, at least not yet. At Swarkestone Bridge six miles south of Derby the vanguard turned back. They were just 120 miles from the centre of London.

The retreat was speedy and conducted in a state of high morale apart from the Prince, who could not conceal his disappointment. The Government in London thought the Jacobites would go back to Scotland and conduct warfare there, forcing them to deplete the army on the Continent, so the order was given for Cumberland to march north and end the Rising.

Apart from a short and fierce conflict on Clifton Moor between the Jacobite rearguard and advance dragoons of Cumberland – about 40-50 dragoons were killed for the loss of a dozen Jacobites – the retreat went smoothly. Charles marched to Glasgow and fined the town £5,500 for their lack of zeal for the Jacobite cause.

IT should be noted now that large parts of Scotland and many towns and clan leaders had refused to back the Rising. The forces that the Jacobites would soon face had Scottish regiments – about a quarter of Cumberland’s army in all – including independent Highlanders in the pay of the Hanoverian Government. For many of the Scots who faced the Jacobites, the Union had been a boon in that they could join the army, while the thought of a Roman Catholic monarch was anathema to them. Though Charles had pledged to end the Union, this was no straightforward England-Scotland confrontation, rather a war between dynasties with supporters

on both sides.

Nor was the Stuart force all Highland – several well-drilled lowland contingents fought for him, as well as French and Irish troops. By the start of 1746, the Jacobite army was besieging Stirling Castle, reinforced by troops from

France – mostly recruited from

the Scottish and Irish regiments in King Louis’s service.

In Edinburgh, General Henry Hawley formed up a Government army and set out to relieve the siege of Stirling. His main force of 6,000 men moved from Edinburgh to Falkirk where they found themselves being confront by the largest force the Jacobites ever put in the field – about 8,000 men in all.

Hawley at first refused to believe there was an army confronting him and stayed in Callander House where the pro-Jacobite Lady Kilmarnock plied him drink. When the Jacobites marched to Falkirk Muir, Hawley quickly rode there, arriving hatless. He formed his army into lines and sent the dragoons on the right to attack the Jacobite left wing. The horse troops were shot out of the saddle by the Jacobites and Hawley’s force disintegrated in the face of a typical Highland charge. More than 350 of the Government contingent were found dead the next morning, while Jacobite losses were negligible.

Hawley should have been cashiered, but rumour had it that he was the illegitimate son of George II, and though Cumberland arrived to take charge of all Government forces in Scotland, Hawley was allowed to retain his regiment.

Cumberland now had a force at least twice the size of the Jacobite army. He marched to Aberdeen and spent six weeks training the army in new tactics specifically designed to combat the Highland charge. Charles kept out of his way, failing to capture Fort William before marching to Inverness.

All of this was conducted in wintry weather, but both sides knew a battle would come when the weather improved. In early April, it became clear that Cumberland was marching from Aberdeen. By then the Jacobites had suffered the disaster of losing a ship carrying treasure and the army’s pay, and morale was not good.

CHARLES was determined to fight what he knew could only be a defensive action to stop Cumberland taking Inverness and all the Highlands and islands. Against the advice of some of his Scottish officers, he marched his army to Drummossie Moor at Culloden.

Lord George Murray tried to lead a night attack similar to the action at Prestonpans, but it broke up in confusion with the result that on the morning of April 16, 1746, many of the Jacobite soldiers were tired and hungry. There are many eyewitness accounts of what happened next, and I would urge you to search out them and the maps made of the battle – they show quite clearly what went wrong. You also only need to walk on the battlefield and see the thick heather to know that this was not the territory for a Highland charge. On such flattish land, you could also conclude that cannon would make mincemeat of anyone attacking them, and it was his deadly artillery which Cumberland put into action first.

In pouring rain and sleet, the Jacobites withstood the bombardment for half an hour, before Charles finally ordered the charge. Across the boggy terrain, the momentum of the Highlanders was lost as they were targeted by musket fire. Volley after volley poured into the Jacobite ranks.

Due to confusion between the various commanders, the charge was inconsistent, the MacDonalds on the left wing some way behind the right wing. The latter smashed through the Government first line but was held by the second line. Cumberland’s incessant training of his army paid off – the new tactic of using the bayonet to stab at your opposite numbers at an angle rather than straight on managed to stop the Highlanders in their tracks. That, and sheer exhaustion on the part of men who could give no more.

Along the line, the Jacobite charge faltered and seeing them turn to flee, Cumberland gave the order for his cavalry to advance with the musketed regiments also moving. Charles himself was only saved by a courageous rearguard action by Irish troops and the French Royal Ecossais regiment.

Hawley’s force of dragoons played an important part at this point. They rode forward and began the process of hacking down the fleeing Jacobites, even as they tried to surrender. The Jacobite army split into two, some heading for Inverness and the rest fleeing south into the Highlands. The Battle of Culloden was over and the Jacobite Rising of 1745-46 was at an end.

Between 1,500 and 2,000 Jacobites had been killed or wounded at Culloden, with just 154 of them plus 222 French troops taken prisoner. The reason why so few prisoners were taken is simple – the order from Cumberland was “no quarter” and many wounded Jacobites were butchered on the field, an atrocity that has coloured Cumberland’s reputation ever since. Only 50 Government soldiers were killed on the day, though many of the 259 wounded later died.

The Jacobites who went south ended up at Ruthven barracks where around 1,500 of them gathered to be told that Prince Charles had ordered them to disperse. The Highlanders met at Fort Augustus and they, too, dispersed. Three days after the battle, the Jacobite army was no more.