Against the advice of his officers, Charles ordered the battle. After various manœuvres the armies faced each other for the bloody decision, on which depended the fate of the House of Stuart, the fortunes of the Highlanders, and the continuance of Scottish feudalism. One dreadful surprise awaited the clansmen. Cumberland, trusting in the bayonet, had carefully drilled each of his men to have the nerve to neglect the man striking at him with his broadsword, but to stab at the fellow who, in expectation of dashing aside the bayonet of the soldier in front of him, would expose his body to the oblique thrust of his comrade on the right, duly fore-warned. The day was one of chilly weather, with fitful winds and flurries of snow. Early in the afternoon, the battle was opened by discharges of cannon from the side of the rebels. But with this kind of work, the men from the glens never were satisfied. Indeed, all firearms and long-range weapons were unpopular with these brave fellows, who, like Indians and semi-barbarians, enjoyed most that action which was, as far as possible, independent and personal. In several of their victories over the royal troops, as at Prestonpans, for example, they had felt little or no annoyance from the royal cannon, and had almost lost their fear of artillery. Cumberland had nine thousand men and eighteen well-served guns. Here, for the first time, the Highlanders were under heavy fire of grape and round shot, to which they could not proportionately reply. It is thought that if Charles at Culloden had let his swordsmen rush at once upon the enemy the issue might have been different. For half an hour the Duke’s cannon played effectively upon the clansmen, who saw scores of their kinsmen stretched upon the heath. After a few moments’ cannonade from their own side, and still under the withering fire of the enemy’s heavy guns, the Highlanders ranged themselves in masses, and according to their clans, made ready for the terrific onset, which they supposed would decide the battle. This it did, but not in the way they had hoped. It was the Mackintoshes, who, unable any longer to brook the unavenged slaughter of their comrades, broke from the centre of the line and rushed forward through the smoke and snow to mingle with the enemy. Yet the order to advance, though never delivered, had already been given by Charles, the bearer being killed by a cannon shot. Cumberland’s troops, seeing the dark masses moving up the slope, as in a great wave, stood in steady line. As the Highlanders came to shock, the oblique thrust of the bayonets was a dreadful surprise, for it prevented hundreds of clansmen from wielding their favorite weapon, as most of them were thrust through before they could swing their broadswords, or make the terrible double-handed sweep with their claymores, on which they had counted. Soon the moor of Drummossie had proved itself to be the valley of decision for the hopes of the House of Stuart.