In spite of the liberal protestations of Charles Edward, he had sucked in with his milk the maxims and haughtiness of absolute power; but bad fortune had more than once compelled the Stuarts to bend before the firm resolution of their faithful friends. The anger of the soldiers equalled that of the prince. "If we had been beaten, we would not have been more sad," said one of them. The discontent of the troops displayed itself by a new growth of irregularity. A long line of stragglers pillaged the cottages; some set fire to the villages which resisted them. The prince did not exercise any oversight. He no longer looked on himself as chief of the army, and he had abandoned his position in the advance guard. The Duke of Cumberland had raised his camp and was following the retreating army. Already at Clifton Moor, an advance detachment had thought to surprise Lord George Murray's corps. The lieutenant-general was on his guard. In the shade he perceived the dragoons who had descended from horseback, and who were gliding under the shelter of the walls. "Claymore!" cried the Scottish chief, and his soldiers instantly started in pursuit of the enemy, and soon put them to rout. Lord George had lost his cap and fought bareheaded. The rebel army entered Scotland without another battle. Scarcely had it left Carlisle when the place was invested by the royal troops. The Manchester regiment which occupied it for the young Pretender was forced to capitulate "under the good pleasure of his Majesty." The good pleasure of George II. was to be, for the larger part of the officers, condemnation to death. {209}