They were now only one hundred and twenty-seven miles from the capital, both Wade and Cumberland behind them, and Charles, notwithstanding the conditions on which they had come on from Macclesfield, still confidently and enthusiastically dwelt on the onward march to London, and his certain success. In the morning a council was held, when Lord George Murray appealed to the prince whether they had received the least accession of strength, or the smallest sign of encouragement? Such being the case, what hope was there for them in proceeding? They had barely five thousand men to contend against three armies, amounting at least altogether to thirty thousand. If they got to London before Cumberland, and if they managed to elude the army at Finchley, they had scarcely numbers to take quiet possession of London. But were they forced to fight the king and his army under the walls of the metropolis, they could not do it without loss; and then, supposing Wade and Cumberland to unite behind them, as they certainly would do, how could they hope to contend against them? Assistance from France, as they had pointed out, was hopeless whilst the English had such a force in the Channel. Charles listened to these arguments with undisguised impatience, and the probability is that, had his officers been willing to follow him, and live or die in the enterprise, he would have seized London, and accomplished one of the most brilliant exploits in history.

It is true that George II. was also a brave and staunch commander, prepared to die on the spot rather than yield, as he had shown at Dettingen. But the greater part of his forces at Finchley were raw levies, and might not have stood better than the troops had done in Scotland. There was a terror of the Highlanders, even in the army; and as for London itself, the panic, when it was heard that they had got between the duke's army and the capital, was, according to Fielding, who was then in London, incredible. There was a frantic rush upon the Bank of England, and it is said that it must have closed had it not gained time by paying in sixpences. The shops were shut, business was at a stand, the Ministers were in the utmost terror, and the Duke of Newcastle was said to have shut himself up for a day, pondering whether he should declare for the Pretender or not. The king himself was by no means confident of the result. He is said to have sent most of his precious effects on board a yacht at the Tower quay, ready to put off at a minute's warning. The day on which the news of the rebels being at Derby reached London was long renowned as Black Friday. In such a state of terror, and the army at Finchley inferior in numbers, and infinitely inferior in bravery, who can doubt that Charles would for a time have made himself master of the metropolis?

Charles, wrought up to the highest pitch of agony at the prospect of being compelled to abandon the splendid design of entering London in triumph, continued to expostulate and entreat the whole day. The Duke of Perth and some of the Irish officers, moved by his distress, gave way, and called on the other chiefs to yield; but they remained immovable, and the prince, seeing the case hopeless, at length gave up the contest, and, in deep dejection, assented to the retreat. But, as if he deemed the relinquishment of the march on the metropolis the ruin of the whole enterprise, he declared that henceforth he would summon no more councils—being accountable only to God and his father, he would not again either seek or accept their advice.

The next morning, the 6th of December, the retreat commenced; but the soldiers and the inferior officers little dreamed that it was a retreat. They imagined that they were going to fight the Duke of Cumberland, and marched out in high spirits. The morning was foggy, and for some time the delusion was kept up; but when the fog cleared away, and they perceived that they were retracing their former route, their disappointment and rage became excessive. The retreat was rapidly continued through Preston, and on to Lancaster, which they reached on the 13th. On the 18th Oglethorpe and Cumberland, accompanied by a mob of country squires and mounted farmers, attacked Lord George Murray's rear near Penrith; but the countrymen were speedily put to flight by a charge of the Glengarry clan, and Oglethorpe fell back to the main body. They came up again, however, in the evening near the village of Clifton, and Lord George perceived, by the fitful light of the moon, the enemy forming behind the stone walls, and lining every hedge, orchard, and outhouse. Just as the royal troops commenced their charge they were stopped by a cross-fire of the concealed Highlanders, and, whilst affected by this surprise, Lord George cried, "Claymore! claymore!" and rushing down upon them with the Macphersons of Cluny, attacked them sword in hand. Being supported by the Stuarts of Appin, they compelled the English to retreat.

Nevertheless, the whole army was dead beat and in the most deplorable condition when they entered Carlisle on the morning of the 19th. As the enemy did not appear, they rested that day and the following night, when they set forward again, leaving a fresh garrison. Cumberland was soon up before the walls, and they fired vigorously at him; but he sent off to Whitehaven and brought up six eighteen-pounders, with which, to their dismay, he began to play on their crumbling walls on the 29th. Next morning they hung out a white flag, and offered to capitulate; but Cumberland would hear of no terms except their surrendering on condition that they should not be put to the sword. At three o'clock in the afternoon both town and castle were surrendered, the garrison being shut up in the cathedral, and a guard set upon them. On the 3rd of January the Duke of Cumberland left the command to General Hawley, and hastened back to London, being summoned to defend the southern coast from a menaced landing of the French.

Meanwhile, the Highland army was continuing its retreat. On the 20th of December they left Carlisle, and crossed into Scotland by fording the Esk. On the 26th Lord George entered Glasgow, and Charles, with the other division, on the 27th. At Glasgow the prince and the army lay for seven days to rest, and to levy contributions of all kinds of articles of apparel for the soldiers. On the 3rd of January, 1746, the same day that Cumberland left Carlisle for London, Charles marched his army out of Glasgow, new clad and new shod, for Stirling. The next day he took up his quarters at the house of Bannockburn, and distributed his men through the neighbouring villages, Lord George Murray occupying Falkirk. Lords Strathallan and Drummond soon arrived from Perth with their united force, attended by both battering-guns and engines from France.

With this force, tempted by the battering train, Charles committed the error of wasting his strength on a siege of Stirling Castle, instead of preparing to annihilate the English troops, which were in rapid advance upon him.

The Duke of Cumberland, being called southward, had got General Hawley appointed to the command of the army sent after the Young Pretender. Wade was become too old and dilatory, but Hawley was much fitter for a hangman than a general. Horace Walpole says he was called "the Lord Chief Justice," because, like Jeffreys, he had a passion for executions; that when the surgeons solicited the body of a deserter, which was dangling before Hawley's windows, for dissection, he would only consent on condition that he had the skeleton to ornament the guard room. Hearing of his approach, Charles drew in his forces from Falkirk under Lord George, left a few hundred men to blockade Stirling, and concentrated his army on the renowned field of Bannockburn. On the 16th of January Charles, expecting Hawley, drew up his forces, but no enemy appeared. The next day, still perceiving no Hawley, he advanced to Pleanmuir, two miles east of Bannockburn, and on the way to Torwood. No enemy yet appearing, the prince determined to advance and find him out. Hawley was so confident of dispersing the Highland rabble at any moment that he chose, that he had neglected every military precaution, had fixed no outposts, and was away at Callander House, at some distance from the field, comfortably taking luncheon with Lady Kilmarnock, whose husband was in the rebel army, and who was exerting all her powers of pleasing to detain the foolish general as long as possible. At length, when the rebels had come up so near that there was only Falkirk Moor between the armies, Hawley, roused by fresh messengers, came galloping up without his hat, and in the utmost confusion. In the middle of this rugged and uneven moor, covered with heath, rose a considerable ridge, and it appeared to be a race between the two enemies which should gain the advantage of the summit. On the one side galloped the English cavalry, on the other sped the Highlanders, straining for this important height; but the fleet-footed Gael won the ground from the English horse, and Hawley's horse halted a little below them. Neither of the armies had any artillery, for the Highlanders had left theirs behind in their rapid advance, and Hawley's had stuck fast in the bog. So far they were equal; but the prince, by taking a side route, had thrown the wind in the teeth of the English, and a storm of rain began with confounding violence to beat in their faces. The English cavalry remained, as it had galloped up, in front, commanded, since the death of Gardiner, by Colonel Ligonier, and the infantry formed, like the Highlanders, in two lines, the right commanded by General Huske, and the left by Hawley. Behind, as a reserve, stood the Glasgow regiment and the Argyll militia. The order being given, the cavalry under Ligonier charged the Macdonalds, who coolly waited till the English horse was within ten yards of them, when they poured such a murderous volley into them as dropped a frightful number from their saddles, and threw the whole line into confusion. The Frasers immediately poured an equally galling cross-fire into the startled line, and the two dragoon regiments which had fled at Coltbridge and Prestonpans waited no longer, but wheeling round, galloped from the field at their best speed. The Macdonalds, seeing the effect of their fire, in spite of Lord George Murray's endeavours to keep them in order, rushed forward, loading their pieces as they ran, and fell upon Hawley's two columns of infantry. Having discharged their pieces, they ran in upon the English with their targets and broadswords. The left soon gave way, and Hawley, who had got involved in the crowd of flying horse, had been swept with them down the hill, and thus had no means of keeping them to their colours. On the right of the royal army, however, the infantry stood firm, and as the Highlanders could not cross the ravine to come to close quarters with sword and target, they inflicted severe slaughter upon them; and Cobham's cavalry rallying, soon came to their aid and protected their flank, and increased the effect on the Highlanders, many of whom began to run, imagining that the day was lost. Charles, from his elevated position observing this extraordinary state of things, advanced at the head of his second line, and checked the advance of the English right, and, after some sharp fighting, compelled them to a retreat. But in this case it was only a retreat, not a flight. These regiments retired, with drums beating and colours flying, in perfect order. A pursuit of cavalry might still have been made, but the retreat of the English was so prompt, that the Highlanders suspected a stratagem; and it was only when their scouts brought them word that they had evacuated Falkirk that they understood their full success (January 18, 1746).

The battle of Falkirk, which in itself appeared so brilliant an affair for Prince Charles, was really one of his most serious disasters. The Highlanders, according to their regular custom when loaded with plunder, went off in great numbers to their homes with their booty. His chief officers became furious against each other in discussing their respective merits in the battle. Lord George Murray, who had himself behaved most bravely in the field, complained that Lord John Drummond had not exerted himself, or pursuit might have been made and the royal army been utterly annihilated. This spirit of discontent was greatly aggravated by the siege of the castle of Stirling. Old General Blakeney, who commanded the garrison, declared he would hold out to the last man, in spite of the terrible threats of Lord George Murray if he did not surrender. The Highlanders grew disgusted with work so contrary to their habits; and, indeed, the French engineer, the so-called Marquis de Mirabelle, was so utterly ignorant of his profession, that the batteries which he constructed were commanded by the castle, and the men were so much exposed that they were in danger of being destroyed before they took the fortress. Accordingly, on the 24th of January they struck to a man, and refused to go any more into the trenches.

This was followed by a memorial, signed by most of the chief officers, including Lord George Murray, Lochiel, Keppoch, Clanranald, and Simon Fraser, Master of Lovat. This was sent by Lord George to Charles, and represented that so many men were gone home, and more still going, in spite of all the endeavours of their chiefs, that if the siege were continued they saw nothing but absolute destruction to the whole army. The prince sent Sir Thomas Sheridan to remonstrate with the chiefs, but they would not give way, and Charles, it is said, sullenly acquiesced in the retreat.

It was time, if they were to avoid a battle. Cumberland was already on the march from Edinburgh. He quitted Holyrood on the 31st of January, and the insurgents only commenced their retreat the next morning, the 1st of February, after spiking their guns. With this force the prince continued his march towards Inverness, a fleet accompanying him along the coast with supplies and ammunition. On nearing Inverness, he found it rudely fortified by a ditch and palisade, and held by Lord Loudon with two thousand men. Charles took up his residence at Moray Castle, the seat of the chief of the Macintoshes. The chief was in the king's army with Lord Loudon, but Lady Macintosh espoused the cause of the prince zealously, raised the clan, and led them out as their commander, riding at their head with a man's bonnet on her head, and pistols at her saddle-bow. Charles, the next morning, the 17th of February, called together his men, and on the 18th marched on Inverness. Lord Loudon did not wait for his arrival, but got across the Moray Firth with his soldiers, and accompanied by the Lord-President Forbes, into Cromarty. He was hotly pursued by the Earl of Cromarty and several Highland regiments, and was compelled to retreat into Sutherland. Charles entered Inverness, and began to attack the British forts. Fort George surrendered in a few days, and in it they obtained sixteen pieces of cannon and a considerable stock of ammunition and provisions.

But, notwithstanding these partial advantages, and though the duke and his army were enduring all the severities of a Highland winter, exposed to the cutting east winds on that inclement coast, and compelled to keep quarters for some time, Cumberland was steadily seizing every opportunity to enclose the Highlanders in his toils. His ships cut off all supplies coming by sea. They captured two vessels sent from France to their aid, on board of one of which they took the brother of the Duke of Berwick. The Hazard, a sloop which the Highlanders had seized and sent several times to France, was now pursued by an English cruiser, and driven ashore on the coast of Sutherland: on board her were a hundred and fifty men and officers, and ten thousand pounds in gold, which the clan Mackay, headed by Lord Reay, got possession of. This last blow, in addition to other vessels sent out to succour him being compelled to return to France, reduced Charles to the utmost extremities. He had only five hundred louis-d'ors left in his chest, and he was obliged to pay his troops in meal, to their great suffering and discontent. Cumberland was, in fact, already conquering them by reducing them to mere feeble skeletons of men. The dry winds of March rendered the rivers fordable, and, as soon as it grew milder, he availed himself of this to coop the unhappy Highlanders up still more narrowly in their barren wilds, and stop all the passes into the Lowlands, by which they might obtain provisions. He himself lay at Aberdeen with strong outposts in all directions; Mordaunt at Old Meldrum, and Bland at Strathbogie. As soon as he received an abundance of provisions by a fleet of transports, along with Bligh's regiment, hearing that the Spey was fordable, on the 7th of April he issued orders to march, and the next day set forward himself from Aberdeen with Lord Kerr's dragoons and six regiments of foot, having the fleet still following along the shore with a gentle and fair wind. On reaching the Spey Lord John Drummond disputed their passage, having raised a battery to sweep the ford, and ranged his best marksmen along the shore. But the heavier artillery of the duke soon drove Lord John from the ground; he set fire to his barracks and huts, and left the ford open to the enemy, who soon got across. On Sunday, the 13th of April, the English advanced to Alves, and on the 14th reached Nairn. As the van, consisting of the Argyllshire men, some companies of Grenadiers, and Kingston's Light Horse, entered Nairn, the rear of Lord John Drummond had not quitted it, and there was skirmishing at the bridge. The Highlanders still retreated to a place called the Lochs of the Clans, about five miles beyond Nairn, where the prince came up with reinforcements, and, turning the flight, pursued the English back again to the main body of their army, which was encamped on the plain to the west of Nairn.

That night Charles and his chief officers lay at Culloden House, the seat of the able and patriotic Lord-President, Duncan Forbes; but the troops were obliged to lie on the moor amid the heather, which served them both for beds and fuel, the cold being very severe. They were up early in the morning, and formed in order of battle on Drummossie Muir, the part of the heath of Culloden near to Culloden House. No enemy, however, appeared, and there the poor hungry men lay for most of the day with no other food than a biscuit per man. A council of war being called, Lochiel stated this fact as a plea for delay; Lord John Drummond, the Duke of Perth, and others, were of the same opinion; but Lord George Murray declared for making a night march, and surprising the duke's army whilst it would lie, as they supposed, asleep in a drunken debauch. Charles, who had the same idea, but had not yet broached it, embraced Lord George with ardour, declaring it of all things his own wish. The idea was adopted, yet the slightest military wisdom would have shown them the futility of the scheme. The men were in a general state, not only of famine, but of discontent, from the non-payment of their arrears. The night was dark, and the men soon began to stumble through bog and mire, making their march heavy, and causing them to curse and swear. It was soon found that they were so feeble and incapable of walking, even, to say nothing of fighting after a fourteen or fifteen miles' march, on empty stomachs, that it was impossible to make the rear keep up with the van. They had calculated on being at Nairn at two o'clock, but it was that hour before they had all passed Kilravock House, only four miles from the English camp. It was clear that it would be daylight long before they reached Nairn, and they could only get there to be slaughtered in helplessness, for they would be too tired either to fight or run away. It was therefore agreed to return.

The retreat was made, and the men found themselves again in the morning on the bleak, black heath of Drummossie, hungry and worn out, yet in expectation of a battle. There was yet time to do the only wise thing—retreat into the mountains, and depend upon a guerilla warfare, in which they would have the decided advantage. Lord George Murray now earnestly proposed this, but in vain. Sir Thomas Sheridan and other officers from France grew outrageous at that proposal, contending that they could easily beat the English, as they had done at Prestonpans and Falkirk—forgetting that the Highlanders then were full of vigour and spirit. Unfortunately, Charles listened to this foolish reasoning, and the fatal die was cast.

The English army was now in full march against them. About eight o'clock in the morning of April 16 a man who had been left asleep in the wood of Kilravock hastened to Culloden House, where Charles and his chief officers were resting, to announce that Cumberland's troops were coming. There was then a hurried running and riding to get the army drawn up to receive them. Cumberland came on with his army, divided into three columns of five battalions each. The artillery and baggage followed the second column along the sea-coast on the right; the cavalry covered the left wing, which stretched towards the hills. The men were all in the highest spirits, and even the regiments of horse, which had hitherto behaved so ill, seemed as though they meant to retrieve their characters to-day. The Highlanders were drawn up about half a mile from the part of the moor where they stood the day before, forming a sad contrast to Cumberland's troops, looking thin, and dreadfully fatigued. In placing them, also, a fatal mistake was made. They were drawn up in two lines, with a body of reserve; but the Clan Macdonald, which had always been accustomed to take their stand on the right since Robert Bruce placed them there in the battle of Bannockburn, were disgusted to find themselves now occupying the left. Instead of the Macdonalds now stood the Athol Brigade. As the battle began, a snow-storm began to blow in the faces of the Highlanders, which greatly confounded them.

Their cannon was both inferior and worse served than that of the English; and when, at one o'clock, the duke began to play on their ranks with his artillery, he made dreadful havoc amongst them. Several times the Highlanders endeavoured to make one of their impetuous rushes, running forward with loud cries, brandishing their swords and firing their pistols; but the steady fire of the English cannon mowed them down and beat them off. Seeing, however, a more determined appearance of a rush, Colonel Belford began to charge with grape shot. This repelled them for a time; but at length, after an hour's cannonade, the Macintoshes succeeded in reaching the first line of the English. Firing their muskets, and then flinging them down, they burst, sword in hand, on Burrel's regiment, and cut their way through it. The second line, however, consisting of Sempill's regiment, received them with a murderous fire. Cumberland had ordered the first rank to kneel down, the second to lean forward, and the third to fire over their heads. By this means, such a terrible triple volley was given them as destroyed them almost en masse. Those left alive, however, with all their ancient fury, continued to hew at Sempill's regiment; but Cumberland had ordered his men not to charge with their bayonets straight before them, but each to thrust at the man fronting his right-hand man. By this means his adversary's target covered him where he was open to the left, and his adversary's right was open to him. This new manœuvre greatly surprised the Highlanders, and made fearful havoc of them. From four to five hundred of them fell between the two lines of the English army. Whilst the Macintoshes were thus immolating themselves on the English bayonets, the Macdonalds on their left stood in sullen inaction, thus abandoning their duty and their unfortunate countrymen from resentment at their post of honour on the right having been denied them. At length, ashamed of their own conduct, they discharged their muskets, and drew their broadswords for a rush; but the Macintoshes were now flying, and the grape-shot and musket-shot came so thickly in their faces, that they, too, turned and gave way. Whilst Charles stood, watching the rout of his army to the right, he called frantically to those who fled wildly by to stand and renew the fight. At this moment Lord Elcho spurred up to him, and urged him to put himself at the head of the yet unbroken left, and make a desperate charge to retrieve the fortune of the day; but the officers around him declared that such a charge was hopeless, and could only lead the men to certain slaughter, and prevent the chance of collecting the scattered troops for a future effort. Though he did not attempt to resist the victorious enemy, which was now hopeless, he seems to have lingered, as if confounded, on the spot, till O'Sullivan and Sheridan, each seizing a rein of his bridle, forced him from the field.

Charles, accompanied by O'Sullivan, Sheridan, and other gentlemen, rode away to a seat of Lord Lovat's. The wild gallop of horsemen startled that wily old fox in his lair; and when he heard the news the Master began to tremble for his own safety. There are different accounts of his reception of the fugitive prince. One says that he was so occupied with thinking of making his own escape, that he hardly showed common courtesy to the prince and his companions, and that they parted in mutual displeasure. Another states that Lovat urged the same advice as Lord George Murray had done, still to get up into the mountains, and make a bold face, by which time might be gained for fresh reinforcements, or at least for making some terms for the unhappy people. But it is clear that Charles had now lost all spirit, if he had ever retained much after he had been forced to retreat from Derby. He and his party rode away again at ten o'clock at night, and reached Invergarry, the castle of Glengarry, about two hours before daybreak. Lord George still entertained the idea of keeping together a large body of Highlanders. He had already with him one thousand two hundred. Charles had stolen away from Invergarry to Arkaig, in Lochaber, and thence to Glenboisdale, where the messengers of Lord George found him, accompanied only by O'Sullivan, O'Neil, and Burke, his servant, who knew the country and acted as guide. All the rest of his train had shifted for themselves. Lord George entreated the prince not to quit the country, but to continue to gather a force in the mountains, and thus resist and harass their enemies till they received reinforcements; but Charles sent him word that the only chance was for himself to hasten over to France, and use all his interest to bring over an efficient force. He therefore sent Lord George a written plan of his intentions, which was not, however, to be opened till he had sailed; and he desired Lord George to request the different chiefs and their men to seek their own safety as best they might. That act terminated the Rebellion.

Cumberland was now hunting down the fugitives on all sides. He posted himself at Fort Augustus, which the insurgents had blown up before leaving it, and from that centre he sent out his myrmidons in every direction to hunt out the Highlanders, and shoot them down on the spot or bring them in for execution. Everywhere the unhappy clans were pursued by their hereditary enemies, the Whig clans, especially by the men of Argyllshire, and massacred with the most atrocious cruelty. They stripped their houses and then burned them down, drove away the cattle, and tracking the miserable families into dens and caves, smothered them with burning heather, or thus forced them to rush out upon their bayonets. In all these diabolical proceedings, the Duke of Cumberland and the brutal General Hawley were foremost. "After all," Cumberland (whose wicked work earned him the name of "The Butcher") wrote to the Duke of Newcastle from Fort Augustus, "I am sorry to leave this country in the condition it is in, for all the good that we have done has been a little blood-letting, which has only weakened the madness, but not at all cured it; and I tremble for fear that this vile spot may still be the ruin of this island and our family."

The Young Pretender, during this time, had been making a hard run for his life, beset and hunted on all sides for the thirty thousand pounds set upon his head. During the whole five months of his adventurous wanderings and hidings, nothing could induce a single Highlander to betray him, notwithstanding the temptation of the thirty thousand pounds. The most familiar story is his escape from South Uist, where he had been tracked and surrounded. At this moment Miss Flora Macdonald, a near relative of Macdonald of Clanranald, with whom she was on a visit, stepped forward to rescue him. She procured a pass from Hugh Macdonald, her stepfather, who commanded part of the troops now searching the island, for herself, her maid, Betty Burke, and her servant, Neil Mac Eachan. She, moreover, induced Captain Macdonald to recommend the maid, Betty Burke—which Betty Burke was to be Charles in disguise—to his wife in Skye as very clever at spinning. At the moment that all was ready, General Campbell, as if suspecting something, came with a company of soldiers, and examined Clanranald's house. The prince, in his female attire, however, was concealed in a farm-house, and the next morning he and his deliverer embarked in a boat with six rowers and the servant Neil. In passing the point of Vaternish, in Skye, they ran a near chance of being all killed, for the militia rushed out and fired upon them. Luckily the tide was out, so that they were at a tolerable distance, were neither hurt, nor could be very quickly pursued. The boatmen pulled stoutly, and landed them safely at Mougstot, the seat of Sir Alexander Macdonald. Sir Alexander was on the mainland in Cumberland's army; but the young heroine had the address to induce his wife, Lady Margaret Macdonald, to receive him; and as the house was full of soldiers, she sent him to her factor and kinsman, Macdonald of Kingsburgh, in the interior of the island, who brought him to a place of safety. At last, on the 20th of September, he got on board the French vessel. Lochiel and Cluny, and about a hundred other refugees, sailed with him, and they landed at the little port of Roscoff, near Morlaix, in Finistère, on the 29th of September, whence Charles hastened to Paris, was received in a very friendly manner by Louis XV., and by the Parisians, when he appeared at the opera, with rapturous acclamations.

Charles was, both in Scotland—on which his wild adventure had inflicted such miseries—and in France, a hero of romance; but his captured adherents had far other scenes to face than the lights and luxurious music of the opera. The prisons were crammed to such a degree with the unfortunate Gaels, that Government was compelled to stow numbers away on board of men-of-war and transports, till fever broke out and swept them off by hundreds, sparing the labours of judges, juries, and hangmen. In Carlisle prison alone four hundred Scots were jammed in a space not properly sufficient for forty! The poor prisoners had been brought out of Scotland in open defiance of the Act of Union and of the recognised rights of the Scottish courts; and now they were called on to cast lots for one in twenty to take their trials, with a certainty of being hanged, and the rest shipped off to the Plantations in America without any trial at all.

Amongst the most distinguished persons captured were Lords Kilmarnock, Cromarty, Balmerino, Mordington, and Lovat. Cromarty, Balmerino, and Kilmarnock were brought to trial before the peers in Westminster Hall on the 28th of July. "Cromarty," says Horace Walpole, "was a timid man, and shed tears; and Kilmarnock, though behaving with more dignity, pleaded guilty, both expressing remorse for their past conduct, and their fervent good wishes for the person and government of the king." But old Balmerino, the hero of the party, pleaded not guilty, and took exceptions to the indictment. "He is," writes Walpole, "the most natural, brave old fellow I ever saw; the highest intrepidity, even to indifference." All these noblemen were pronounced guilty. Cromarty pleaded piteously the condition of his wife and family: that he left his wife enceinte, and eight innocent children to suffer for his fault. His wife's entreaties and the interest of the Prince of Wales saved him; Kilmarnock and Balmerino were beheaded.

Lord Lovat was the last who was brought to the block for this rebellion, and we will conclude our account of it with his trial and execution, though they did not take place till March, 1747. Lovat had not appeared in arms, nor committed any overt act, and therefore it was difficult to convict him. The cunning old sycophant hoped to elude the law, as he had done so often before, but Murray of Broughton, the brother of Murray, afterwards Lord Mansfield, to save his own life, turned king's evidence, and won eternal infamy by sacrificing his own friends. He not only produced letters and other documents which amply proved the guilt of Lovat, but threw broad daylight on the whole plan and progress of the insurrection from 1740 onwards. The conduct of Lovat on his trial was as extraordinary as his life had been. He alternately endeavoured to excite compassion, especially that of Cumberland—who attended this, though he avoided the trials of the other insurgents—by representing how he had carried his Royal Highness in his arms about Kensington and Hampton Court Parks as a child, and then by the most amusing jests, laughter, execrations, and tricks, to puzzle or confuse the witnesses.

As he left the hall he turned and said, "Farewell, my lords; we shall never meet again in the same place." And with this tragi-comedy closed the strange, romantic, and melancholy rebellion of 1745 and 1746, for in a few weeks an act of indemnity was passed, disfigured, however, with eighty omissions. It was followed by other measures for subduing the spirit of the vanquished Highlanders—the disarming act, the abolition of heritable jurisdiction, and the prohibition of the Highland costume.

Whilst the rebellion was raging in Scotland there had been an attempt to change the ministry, and to place at the helm Lord Granville. That nobleman had so engrossed the favour of the king, that Pelham and his brother, Newcastle, found their measures greatly obstructed by Granville's influence, and suspected that they would soon be called on to give place to him. They determined, therefore, to bring matters to a crisis, confident that Granville would never be able to secure a majority in either House against them. To furnish a reason for their tendering their resignation, they demanded the place which they had promised to Pitt.

Under the influence of Granville and of Lord Bath, the king refused to admit Pitt, and they determined to resign, but got Lord Harrington to take the first step. He tendered the resignation of the Seals on the 10th of February, 1746, and the king accepted them, but never forgave Harrington. The same day Newcastle and Pelham tendered theirs, and their example was followed by others of their colleagues. The king immediately sent the Seals to Granville, desiring him and Bath to construct a new administration. They found the thing, however, by no means so easy. It was in vain that they made overtures to men of distinction to join them. Sir John Barnard declined the post of Chancellor of the Exchequer; Chief Justice Willes that of Lord Chancellor. After forty-eight hours of abortive endeavours, Lord Bath announced to the king that they were unable to form a Cabinet. It was with extreme chagrin that George was compelled to reinstate the Pelhams. He expressed the most profound mortification that he should have a man like Newcastle thus forced upon him—a man, he said, not fit to be a petty chamberlain to a petty prince of Germany. What made it the more galling, the Pelhams would not take back the Seals without authority to name their own terms, and one of them was, that such of the adherents of Bath and Granville as had been retained in the Ministry should be dismissed. The Marquis of Tweeddale was, accordingly, one of these, and his office of Secretary of State for Scotland was abolished. Pitt was introduced to the Cabinet, not as Secretary at War, as he had demanded, but as Vice-Treasurer of Ireland, and subsequently, on the death of Winnington, as Paymaster of the Forces. By this event the Opposition was still further weakened, and the Pelhams for some time seemed to carry everything as they wished, almost without a single ruffle of opposition.

CHAPTER V.

The year 1747 was opened by measures of restriction. The House of Lords, offended at the publication of the proceedings of the trial of Lord Lovat, summoned the parties to their bar, committed them to prison, and refused to liberate them till they had pledged themselves not to repeat the offence, and had paid very heavy fees. The consequence of this was that the transactions of the Peers were almost entirely suppressed for nearly thirty years from this time, and we draw our knowledge of them chiefly from notes taken by Horace Walpole and Lord Chancellor Hardwicke. What is still more remarkable, the reports of the House of Commons, being taken by stealth, and on the merest sufferance, are of the most meagre kind, sometimes altogether wanting, and the speeches are given uniformly under fictitious names; for to have attributed to Pitt or Pelham their speeches by name would have brought down on the printers the summary vengeance of the House. Many of the members complained bitterly of this breach of the privileges of Parliament, and of "being put into print by low fellows"; but Pelham had the sense to tolerate them, saying, "Let them alone; they make better speeches for us than we can make for ourselves." Altogether, the House of Commons exhibited the most deplorable aspect that can be conceived. The Ministry had pursued Walpole's system of buying up opponents by place, or pension, or secret service money, till there was no life left in the House. Ministers passed their measures without troubling themselves to say much in their behalf; and the opposition dwindled to Sir John Hinde Cotton, now dismissed from office, and a feeble remnant of Jacobites raised but miserable resistance. In vain the Prince of Wales and the secret instigations of Bolingbroke and Doddington stimulated the spirit of discontent; both Houses had degenerated into most silent and insignificant arenas of very commonplace business.

The campaign in Flanders commenced with the highest expectation on the part of England. Cumberland had now obtained the great object of his ambition—the command of the Allied army; and the conqueror of Culloden was confidently expected to show himself the conqueror of Marshal Saxe and of France. But Cumberland, who was no match for Marshal Saxe, found the Dutch and Austrians, as usual, vastly deficient in their stipulated quotas. The French, hoping to intimidate the sluggish and wavering Dutch, threatened to send twenty thousand men into Dutch Flanders, if the States did not choose to negotiate for a separate peace. The menace, however, had the effect of rousing Holland to some degree of action. When the vanguard of Saxe's army, under Count Löwendahl, burst into Dutch Flanders, and reduced the frontier forts of Sluys, Sas-van-Ghent, and Hulst, the Dutch rose against their dastardly governors, and once more placed a prince of the House of Nassau in the Stadtholdership. William of Nassau, who had married Anne, daughter of George II. of England, was, unfortunately, not only nominated Stadtholder, but Captain-General and Lord High Admiral; and, being equally desirous of martial glory with his brother-in-law, the Duke of Cumberland, he headed the Dutch army, and immediately began to contend with Cumberland for dictation as to the movements of the army. In these disastrous circumstances, the Allies came to blows with the French at the village of Laufeldt, before Maestricht. The Dutch in the centre gave way and fled; the Austrians on the right, under Marshal Batthyani, would not advance out of their fortified position; the brunt of the whole onset, therefore, fell upon the English. Cumberland found himself engaged with the whole French army, directed by the masterly mind of Saxe, and animated by the presence of Louis himself. The dispositions of Cumberland were bad, but the bravery of the British troops was never more remarkable. Though it was impossible for them to prevail against such overwhelming numbers, they did not retreat before they had, according to Saxe's own acknowledgment, killed or wounded nine thousand of the French.

Saxe followed up his advantage by despatching Löwendahl against Bergen-op-Zoom, the key of Holland, and the masterpiece of the celebrated engineer, Cohorn. This was not only amazingly strong in its fortifications, but had a powerful garrison, and was covered by an entrenched camp of twelve thousand men. The trenches were opened in the middle of July, and might have defied all the efforts of the French, had not Baron Cronstrom, the commander, a man of eighty, suffered them to take it by surprise on the 15th of September. The French had led a vast number of men before this place, and its surrender ended the campaign.

Most unexpectedly, however, the French were as desirous of peace as the Allies ought to have been. At sea and in Italy they had not been so successful as in Flanders. Admiral Anson had defeated them off Cape Finisterre, and taken six ships of the line, several frigates, and a great part of a numerous convoy; Admiral Hawke, off Belleisle, had taken six other ships of the line; and Commodore Fox took forty French merchantmen, richly laden, on their way from the West Indies. In fact, in all quarters of the world our fleet had the advantage, and had made such havoc with the French commerce as reduced the mercantile community to great distress.

In Italy the French had been as unfortunate as they had been fortunate in Flanders. In November of 1746 the Austrians and Sardinians, assisted by a British fleet, had entered Provence and bombarded Antibes. They were recalled, however, by the news that the Genoese had revolted, and thrown off the Austrian yoke. In their retreat they were harassed by Marshal de Belleisle, laid siege to Genoa in vain, and began to quarrel amongst themselves. The French, to complete their own discomfiture, marched another army into Italy under the brother of Belleisle; but they were stopped in the Pass of Exilles, and defeated, with the loss of four thousand men and of their commander, the Chevalier de Belleisle.