The battle began and the pellets came at us like hail-stones 275th anniversary of the Battle of Culloden – 12-page special
ON April 16, 1746, the last pitched battle fought on British soil took place in a boggy field east of Inverness in the Scottish Highlands. Culloden was the final clash of the Jacobite rising that began the previous year. Much has been written of the facts of that bloody battle and its tragic aftermath, but what of those that took part? Over the next 12 pages, discover the fates and thoughts of those marching in opposing armies 275 years ago…
The Battle of Culloden was over in around 40 minutes – yet it took four days for word to reach Edinburgh in hand-written letters delivered on horseback. All of Scotland held its breath, waiting to hear the result that would change the country forever.
Was the victor Charles Stuart with his Jacobite army, seeking to claim the Scottish crown of his grandfather, or was it the Duke of Cumberland with his government army loyal to King George II?
The 18th-century editorial staff of The Scots Magazine collected as many letters and accounts as they could find, and printed them in our April 1746 edition. For many waiting
at home, this was the only way to find out the fate of their loved ones.
“On Wednesday the 16th,” the magazine reports, “a decisive battle was fought, on Drummossie moor, South of Culloden house, two miles from Inverness. An express dispatched by the Duke of Athol from Perth reached Edinburgh late on Saturday night, with the news; and about the same time, or next day, letters were received from Aberdeen, all agreeing, that the King’s army under the command of the Duke had obtained a compleat and glorious victory.
“By the 22nd notice was received that the battle was very bloody, no quarter having been given on either side while it lasted, which was but about half an hour; that 1000 of the rebels were left dead in the field; and that about 200 were killed or wounded on the King’s side.”
As letters poured in from the survivors, a picture of the bloody circumstances of the battle emerges.
“The action begun by the fire of the rebels’ cannon,” wrote Lord Bury, Aid de Camp to the Duke, “which ours answered with success, and very soon brought their first line, consisting altogether of their clans, in a great hurry to attack us. Their right wing outfronted our left; which fell in a little: but our men fairly beat them back with their bayonets, and made a great slaughter of them.”
The gunners on the government side switched to canister shot, and the spray of iron pellets hampered the Highland charge, already slowed by the boggy ground. Donald Mackay, a Jacobite survivor, later wrote of the horror of the enemy fire.
“The battle began and the pellets came at us like hail-stones. The big guns were thundering and causing frightful break up among us, but we ran forward and – oh dear!, oh dear! – what cutting and slicing there was...
“But the English were numerous and we were few and a large number of our friends fell. The dead lay on all sides and the cries of pain of the wounded rang in our ears. You could see a riderless horse running and jumping
The battle began and the pellets came hail-stones” at us like
as if mad. When I saw that the battle was lost, I thought it best to leave and make for home. I said this to my brother who was near me and we made in the direction of Inverness as quickly as we could.”
Donald was one of the lucky Jacobite survivors. He was captured and imprisoned, before transported to the West Indies. Those who lay wounded never left the field, and many who ran to the hills were hunted down and slaughtered on orders from the Duke.
“The moor was covered with blood,” wrote a captain in the Munro regiment of the government army, “and our men, what with killing the enemy, dabbling their feet in the blood, and splashing it about one another, looked like so many butchers.”
In just over half an hour between 1500 and 2000 Jacobite men were slain, and the rest of the army was scattered to the wind. Charles Stuart spent the next year in hiding before sailing to France in September 1747 – never again to set foot on Scottish soil.