a treasurer, and fourteen councillors. On Sundays, the magistrates walk to church, preceded by their lictors, and, till lately, used to attend, by invitation, the funerals of the inhabitants. The population of the town and parish is nearly fifteen thousand, and the number entitled to vote for a member of parliament, in conjunction with Forres, Nairn, and Fortrose, four hundred and eighty-nine. Among the chief objects of attraction in the environs, are Craig Phadrick, and Ord-hill of Kessock, vitrified forts; Tomnaheurich, Culloden Moor, basin and entrance of the Caledonian Canal, Druidical Temple of Leys, and Battlehill of Torvain.* Of these, Craig Phadrick has been long an object of philosophical speculation, as to its being the work of human art or the result of volcanic action. In support of the latter hypothesis, Dr. Johnson, who examined the hill only two years ago, has spoken decidedly.†

The hill is surrounded with a wall in the form of a parallelogram, about eighty yards long, and thirty in breadth. The stones are all firmly cemented by a vitrified matter, like lava, or the scoria of an iron foundry, the substance of the stones being, in many places, softened and vitrified-in some parts partially, in others entirely. Where the fusion is imperfect, the stones are embedded in the vitreous substance. Those who are familiar with volcanic phenomena are most likely to adopt that theory, and to conclude that, in the formation of the conical hills of Scotland, subterranean fire has had more to do than superincumbent water. From the level summit of this hill the view of the sea-coast is very beautiful.

Tomnaheurich is a beautiful insulated hill, wearing its sylvan coronet of trees, and in popular tradition the favourite rendezvous of "moonlight elves," and the tomb of Thomas the Rhymer. As an alluvial relic, it forms an interesting

• The other objects lying within a day's excursion, and which will be noticed under their proper heads, are, Fort George, and Fort Augustus; Falls of Foyers, and Kilmorrack; Castles Stewart, Dalcross, Cawdor, and Urquhart; Stone Monuments at Clava, Roman Station at Bona, &c.

+ "In my own mind," says our distinguished author," not a shadow of doubt remains that Craig Phadrick is a volcanic mountain; that its summit was the crater of an extinct volcano; that advantage was taken of the locality to form a fort, or place of defence; and that the rocks were vitrified by subterranean fire, not by human art. That the masses of lava now existing on the summit and sides of Craig Phadrick were vitrified by Roman, Celt, or Sassenach, is about as probable as that the basaltic columns of Staffa were baked like bricks, in the cave of Fingal, or that the Giant's Causeway was fused in a tinker's crucible." "But," says Mr. Anderson, in his notice of this passage, "it might as well be said that all the conglomerated sand-stone ridges between Speymouth and Mealfourvoney, and thence to the Kyle of Sutherland, are volcanic; for Craig-Phadric, one of these, in no respect differs in general composition from the rest." P. 618. The most recent theory advocated (and especially with much success, by Sir George Mackenzie, Bart., of Coul,) is, that the vitrification of these forts was caused by ancient BEACON-FIRES." To this proposition the traditions of the country, and the practice of its inhabitants to the present day, give much

countenance.

object for the geologist, while it offers a pleasing feature in the landscape. Its summit, quite flat, and commanding the town and surrounding scenery, is a belvéder on which the landscape-loving tourist will be delighted to take his station. This remarkable fragment appears to have resisted the force of those primeval torrents which ploughed their way through the Great Glen, and swept away those mountain barriers originally interposed between sea and sea. It stands as a monument of the catastrophe; and having survived, as if by miracle, the dissolving floods that stripped the surrounding surface to a depth of two hundred and fifty feet, may well be supposed to inspire superstitious belief. It is compared to a ship with the keel upwards, and scattered with trees instead of sea-weed. Perhaps nothing can convey a clearer idea of its singular appearance and position than to compare it to an ark that had ridden out the storm, but remained stranded on the secession of the waters. Dr. Johnson has made it the subject of an amusing legend, in which it is made to figure as the sleepingstation of an original "Rip Van Winkel."

Among the objects which excite a very different interest in this neighbourhood, Culloden Moor is that which has acquired a mournful familiarity in the page of national disasters. It was the closing scene in that fearful drama in which the efforts of the Stuart dynasty were finally overcome, and the brave followers of an "exiled house" exposed to every calamity that could afflict the conquered. With the heath, and its undulating ridges of graves expanding before us, it requires little effort of fancy to conjure up the last struggle, and the carnage that followed. Wherever we turn, the words of the seer are forcibly recalled-—

After the battle of Falkirk, already adverted to, Prince Charles Stuart having failed to take advantage of those circumstances which were seemingly at his disposal, continued his retreat upon Inverness, and here, in April, 1746, took up his last position, where his cause had excited the warmest interest. The duke of Cumberland having drawn together a large army, and anxious to realize the flattering expectations which parliament entertained of his generalship, speedily followed in the same track. An engagement, now eagerly expected by the rival forces, was to be directed on each side by the presence of a royal leader. The army of Prince Charles, however, was far from being under strict discipline; a spirit of insubordination manifested itself among the clans,

while dissensions, jealousies, and open quarrels, precluded all hearty cooperation among the chiefs. The army of the royal Duke, in the mean time, was in good order, well provisioned, confident under the auspices of their new leader, and anxious to retrieve the credit they had forfeited on a recent occasion.

On the evening preceding the engagement, Prince Charles, with the officers of his staff, took up his quarters in Culloden House. The same night, a project having been formed to surprise the Duke, the army wasted its time and strength in a fruitless expedition to this effect, and had to resume its position in an almost exhausted state between five and six in the morning. The men had received no pay for a month; and the only ration distributed the preceding day was a biscuit to each man. The night-march had been severe, and with nothing to refresh them on their return, a painful scene ensued. Many of the men threw themselves hastily down for a few minutes' sleep, while others, impelled by hunger, went in search of provisions for themselves and comrades. But at this very juncture, an express arrived to state that the duke's army was in full march upon Culloden. At this intelligence every chief hastened to his post; the stragglers were recalled, the sleeping roused from their brief repose, and a muster of about five thousand troops drawn up on the moor, with some small field-pieces on their right.

van.

The rival force, amounting to little short of nine thousand, made its appearance on the verge of the heath. Its imposing front, flanked by a park of artillery, and supported by troops of horse, was speedily formed and distributed in order of battle. A sharp cannonade on the part of the Highland army opened hostilities, but, the guns being ill served, the shot was at last slack and defective, while a galling fire from the English carried death and disorder into the prince's Impatient of this slow and murderous operation, and maddened by the sight of their falling comrades, the Highlanders, with characteristic impetuosity, rushed to the charge. The Duke's right wing met the shock, and recoiled from the weight of the column; but, soon reinforced by two battalions from the line, again made head and stemmed the torrent. Hereupon, changing the point of attack, the Highlanders threw their whole weight upon the Duke's left wing, making a strong effort to flank the front line. But in this manoeuvre they were again foiled by the advance of Wolfe's regiment, and exposed to a murderous fire from the artillery. In the mean time, a passage being forced through the park wall on the right, the royal cavalry were immediately brought into action, the Prince's corps of reserve dispersed, and the others, having to support a charge of horse, front and rear, were thrown into disorder. A scene of unsparing carnage succeeded. The heavy dragoons, finding little to resist them

THE BATTLE OF CULLODEN.

45

in the masses of infantry that now pressed upon each other in helpless confusion, indulged the spirit of revenge to its full extent. But the Highlanders did not sink under the iron hoof and sabre of the horsemen unavenged; although entirely broken, in a military sense, they were still unsubdued in spirit.* Here and there, like a stag at bay, turning desperately on their pursuers, they cut their reins, wounded their horses, and, in falling, dragged the troopers to the ground. Others, maimed and bleeding on the ground, but with sufficient life remaining to render them formidable even in that miserable condition, sprang convulsively from the earth as one of the exterminating horsemen approached, and plunging his dirk into the charger's flank, brought his insulting enemy to the ground. Scattered at short distances, detached groups of the clans-almost buried in the mass of horse that charged them-stood back to back, the buckler in one hand and the broadsword in the other, and forming in appearance a sort of armed testudo, made desperate but ineffectual struggles to retrieve the fate of the day. Their sable plumes and waving tartans, surged for a time in rapid agitation, then, gradually sinking under the irresistible shock of cavalry, disappeared like rocks in the continued rush of an overwhelming tide. Others of the clans, struck with panic at a scene which threatened annihilation to their cause, fled like deer before the hunter, and were cut down without even an effort to resist, or a prayer for mercy. It was a moving sight to observe with what native dignity the worsted but still unvanquished Celt met his fate. Disabled by wounds, or exhausted by fatigue, he drew himself up feebly on the ground, clenched the still bloody but useless steel, extended his target, and with the attitude and expression of a dying gladiator, perished in the succeeding charge. Others, unable to rise from the ground, but keenly alive to the scene passing before them, followed with eager eyes the standard of the prince; but at last, seeing the tartan-the badge of heroic clanship-and "the blue bonnets of the north," strewn around them like leaves in a sudden tempest, the sight was heart-breaking. The spectacle of their prince and their chiefs crushed in evil hour, inflicted an agony more poignant than their wounds, and falling

• Never was the peculiar and irresistible power of a charge of Highlanders more fearlessly displayed than in this their last feudal engagement on their native hills. It was the emphatic custom before an onset, says a spirited historian of this rebellion, to scrug their bonnets-that is, to pull their little blue caps down over their brows, so as to ensure them against falling off in the ensuing mêlée. Never, perhaps, was this motion performed with so much emphasis as on the present occasion, when every man's forehead burned with the desire to avenge some dear friend who had fallen a victim to the murderous artillery. A Lowland gentleman who was in the line, and who survived till a late period, used always, in relating the events of Culloden, to comment, with a feeling of something like awe, upon the terrific and more than natural expression of rage which glowed on every cheek, and gleamed in every eye, as he surveyed the extended line at this moment.- Chambers.

backwards on the bloody turf, they died "with their feet to the foe." But we need not here indulge in individual scenes; the entire field was now an arena where as mournful a tragedy was enacted as ever drew tears from a widowed mother. The shrill note of the bagpipe, the clang of the bugle, and the shouts of infuriated troopers, brought at once tidings of triumph and retreat. Cumberland remained in possession of the field, and on that field lay a thousand gallant clansmen who had surrendered their lives-victims of a mistaken loyalty.* The Prince, who had now witnessed the destruction of his army and the deathblow to his cause, was hurried off the field by the officers of his staff, and consigned, as a fugitive, to those natural fastnesses where alone the royal name of Stuart was still revered. His adventures during the period which followed have furnished as noble a record of manly fortitude and endurance as ever did honour to human nature. Denounced, and destitute of the most common necessaries— thirty thousand pounds offered for him, alive or dead-pursuing only the most lonely tracks there sleeping in caves, and here soliciting shelter in some solitary cabin-his life, from that of a prince, was suddenly encompassed with every danger which could threaten him as an outlaw-with every privation that could afflict the body-every circumstance that could distract the mind. Those who affect to despise his pretensions as an aspirant to the throne, cannot refuse him, as a man, the tribute of their respect and admiration.

The victory was decisive ;† but the glory to which the victors laid claim was sullied with the greatest inhumanity. The wounded and defenceless were cut down without distinction. Those who had merely assembled as spectators, shared in the disasters of the field. The cry of "no quarter" spread consternation among the flying, while it sanctioned the pursuers in the work of carnage. The Highland garb-whether of the unarmed peasant or the hostile clansman -was a fatal signal to the wearer. The accents of the "mountain tongue" were answered by the shouts of extermination; and he who counted most victims showed the greatest loyalty. Vengeance was now the word; and seldom has a retreat presented scenes of cold-blooded ferocity like that from Culloden Moor. That these were to be charged rather to the officers than the men, and most to the commander, is undeniable. The occasion offered one of the

The French piquets stationed on the right took no share in the engagement, but intimidated by the disastrous commencement, remained passive witnesses of the conflict, and at its close, surrendered themselves prisoners of war. This inactivity, however, was neither to be attributed to want of courage, or want of zeal in the cause; but to a conviction that no sacrifice of life could retrieve the honours of the day. + Prince Charles's resources, notwithstanding the loss of this battle, were by no means desperate; eight thousand men were ready to meet him at Ruthven, in Badenoch, had he signified his desire to renew the strife.-Anderson.