Culloden Page #3

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in from of him.

Joshua Ward,

lieutenant, British army,

a fraternity where

the least pretension to learning,

to piety or to common morals

would endanger

the owner to be cashiered.

I will now pass...

in the middle of the second line.

Your Highness.

Give me a battery

in the centre of the front line.

Alexander Laing

carries a .753 musket,

firing a ball of

one ounce and a third weight

an effective distance of 60 paces.

He carries sufficient ball, paper

and black powder for 24 cartridges.

He carries at his hip

a brass-hiked sword

and a bayonet

with 18 inches of uted steel.

Alistair McVurrich

carries in his right hand

an outdated dragoon pistol

for which he has

no further ammunition.

What's the gun you're sewing?

It's a three-pounder.

Right now, it's downright useless.

Why's that?

We've only got 4 lb ammunition for it.

I tell you, it's chaos.

Half the ammunition's with the food.

That's still back in Inverness.

I haven't eaten for...

I don't know how long.

Ah, well now... that really

is not my responsibility.

But, Mr O'Sullivan, you are

the quartermaster general

and, as such, surely you're responsible

for the distribution of food.

In normal circumstances, yes

but now, as I am much pressed

by other affairs,

I have given that responsibility

to someone else.

When was the last time you ate?

Two days ago.

The day before yesterday.

This morning he killed a pig

but wasn't allowed time to eat it.

I can't remember.

Andrew Henderson, Whig historian,

biographer of Cumberland,

eyewitness of the Battle of Culloden.

The time is 12:
15.

Now this wall,

behind which we're sheltering,

is at approximately right angles

to the rebel lines.

I've drawn a rough sketch map here.

The rebel lines are here.

We are here.

And the Duke of Cumberland's army

is here.

9,000 men in 16 infantry battalions

three of which are themselves Scot,

a total of 1,300 regular soldiers

from the Lowlands,

plus, in reserve,

the volunteer militias

of Stirling, Edinburgh,

Dumfries and Glasgow,

a further 8,000 men.

Charles Edward Stuart,

regent claimant to the thrones

of England and Scotland,

has more Scots-in-arms

against him than for him.

And, ranged against him

in the Highlands,

he has the Whig clans

siding with the Government,

the Munros, the Rosses,

the MacKenzies,

the McLeods of Skye, the Sutherlands,

and here on the moor,

the Campbells of the Argyll militia.

Here to fight Charles and his

rebellion, here to take clan revenge,

Angus Ian Campbell,

wife murdered by the MacDonalds.

Alistair MacDonald, brother

killed by Campbells in a cattle raid.

For him, loyalties to Charlie

mean little.

For him,

today's battle is a clan battle.

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