Culloden
- Year:
- 1964
- 69 min
- 354 Views
Wednesday, April 16th 1746.
This is the advance battalion
of an English Government army
of 9,000 men.
Their objective:
Culloden Moor,four and a half miles southeast
of the Highland town of Inverness.
Their purpose:
the destruction of theHighland Jacobite army of rebellion,
a tired, ill-administered force
of less than 5,000 men
who wait just beyond
the top of this ridge.
Sir Thomas Sheridan,
Jacobite military secretary.
Suffering advanced debility
and loss of memory.
Former military engagement
56 years ago.
Sir John MacDonald,
Jacobite captain of cavalry.
Aged, frequently intoxicated,
"described as " a man
of the most limited capacities.
John William O'Sullivan,
Jacobite quartermaster general.
"Described as " an Irishman
whose vanity is superseded
only by his lack of wisdom."
Jacobite commander in chief.
Former military experience:
10 days at a siege at the age of 13.
You must understand, without
putting too fine a point on it,
that the army here is
in a total shambles.
I've got half my company missing.
I just can't find them.
They've gone off somewhere to sleep.
Your Royal Highness,
why exactly are Mr Sheridan,
Sir John MacDonald and Mr O'Sullivan
handling the administration
of your army?
Because I chose them.
I consider those gentlemen to be
utterly trustworthy and competent.
The first thing my men will find
when they do awake
is the enemy on them,
cutting their throats.
James MacDonald, taxman.
Senior officer
in a ruthless clan system,
who's brought with him
on to the moor
men whose land he controls.
Alistair McVurrich,
subtenant of a taxman.
Owns one eighth of an acre
Alan MacColl,
subtenant of a subtenant.
Owns half-share in a small
potato patch measuring 30 feet.
Angus MacDonald,
servant of a subtenant.
He owns nothing.
Lowest in the clan structure,
he is called a cotter.
This man is totally dependent on
the men above him in the clan system.
They, in their tum, on the taxman.
They, in their tum, on this one man,
the man who has brought them all
onto the moor.
Alexander MacDonald,
called, in Gaelic, MacDhomhnuill,
chief of the MacDonald's of Keppoch.
The owner of all his tenants' land,
the rem he has charged them
is to fight with him as clan warriors
whenever he decrees.
This is the system
of the Highland clan: human rent.
I hold my land from MacCruachan,
as my father did,
by bringing him 20 fighting men
from amongst my tenants.
These I have brought.
To this man, who is rent,
today's battle is a matter of honour.
I fight today because it is an honour
to be with my chief, MacDhomhnuill,
and because my father
fought beside his father.
To this man, who is rem,
the battle is a matter of revenge.
I fight first for MacDhomhnuill,
then for Charlie.
Then because the Campbells,
who did steal my cows,
are with the enemy.
I have also raised
over 100 men from Rannoch.
Some were unwilling.
With these, I used force.
Alistair McVurrich, told by
his taxman that if he did not fight
he would have his cattle taken
and his roof burnt.
This is the system of the clan,
a system that has brought
on to the moor over 4,000 men,
men from Argyll and Inverness,
from Moidart, Appin and the isles,
Catholics, Episcopalians,
Presbyterians,
the MacDonalds, the MacLeans,
the Chisholms, the Camerons,
the Farquharsons, the Frasers,
men of 14 major Highland clans.
Men like this.
Donald Cameron of Loch Eil,
chief of the powerful clan Cameron,
fearing for the survival of
the ancient and ruthless society
to which he belongs.
Because he is here on the moor,
most of the other chiefs are here.
Because he is here, Keppoch is here.
Because I feel that
the Act of Union with England
is a betrayal.
Because Prince Charles is a Catholic
and I am a Catholic.
And the king in London
is a Protestant.
Because Charles is part Scot
and I am a Scot.
And the king in London is a German.
the centre of all these men's hopes,
himself half-Polish.
Age 25 and four months,
son of the exiled
James the Pretender,
he landed in Scotland
nine months ago,
raised the clan army
on a Highland surge of nationalism,
marched to Derby and came within an ace
of toppling the Hanoverian dynasty
and regaining the throne
for his father.
Though since forced
to retreat back into the Highlands
and despite
all evidence to the contrary,
Charles remains supremely confident
both of victory and
his welcome by the English people.
King George ll is both
a usurper and a tyrant.
He's kept my father's crown
by enslaving all the people
of this island.
He's deemed unpopular
and I know that once victory is mine
the people of England
will welcome me.
Lord George Murray, age 51.
Lieutenant General in the clan army.
As their commanding officer,
this man forged
the undisciplined Highlanders
into an army that not only
almost reached London
but that also twice reduced
superior English forces
into a panic-stricken rout,
first at Prestonpans,
then at Falkirk.
Blunt, imperious, this man has
bitterly quarreled with Charles
over the chaos
in the army administration
and over the choice
of this battlefield,
chosen by John William O'Sullivan.
Flat, treeless, devoid of shelter,
ideal for the employment
by the British army
of its cannon and cavalry.
And from behind the shelter
of these walls,
which O'Sullivan
has refused to pull down,
both crossfire and outflanking.
Mr O'Sullivan,
in view of what Lord George
feels about the battlefield,
have you inspected
the ground yourself?
- No, I have not.
- Why not?
Because I don't deem it necessary.
It is a large, plain moor
and, as such, it's a fair field
for the enemy horse and cannon
against which the
Highlanders will be defenceless.
I have informed His Royal Highness
that it is a good field
which I believe it to be.
I have told the Prince
I do not like it.
Your Highness,
why are you fighting today,
when the ground here has been
criticized by some of your officers?
Because God is on our side
and I am convinced that my duty
to my people lies in fighting today.
It's my opinion that the choice
of the field for us is suicidal.
9,000 men, 16 battalions of infantry,
12 squadrons of cavalry,
8 companies of militia,
220,000 rounds of musket ammunition,
10 three-pounder battalion cannons,
800 three-pound cannonballs,
500 bags of cannon grapeshot.
This man's name is Fraser.
A deserter from the Government army,
but now stands
in the ranks of the Prince's army,
amongst the men
of his own clan and name.
He knows that,
if he is captured as a deserter,
he will be immediately court-martialled
to a sentence of death by throttling.
These are the Wild Geese,
150 exiled Irishmen
sewing in the army
of His Most Christian Majesty,
Louis XV of France, the most
powerful ally of the Stuart cause.
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