The final hour had come. Cumberland advanced with his 10,000 troops, fresh, ardent, well-fed, and well-equipped, and the battle was decided before it was begun. At a distance of a third of a mile his guns opened fire, making blood-red lanes through the Jacobite regiments. They stood their ground with wonderful courage; but they were obliged to give way, and as dusk settled over the moor the cause of the Stuarts was lost for ever. Then came the grim sequel. “Butcher” Cumberland took such a cruel vengeance on the defeated foe that he well deserves his nickname. Several Scottish lords were beheaded, and measures were taken to prevent a similar rising in future. The tartan and kilt were proscribed articles of dress, the clan system was broken up, and military roads opened the Highlands to the rapid march of troops. Meanwhile “bonnie Prince Charlie” was a fugitive, with a price of £30,000 on his head. For months he encountered hairbreadth escapes and perils by land and sea. His life was made up of days of hiding in the heather, and nights of hunger, cold, fatigue, and anxiety in dim mountain caves. Yet, though his whereabouts were known to scores of people who might easily have earned the money and a pardon into the bargain, no one betrayed him, no one revealed his hiding-place. Men and women at the risk of their lives befriended him, and ultimately, by the aid of those whom he had brought to ruin and to the verge of the scaffold, he managed to escape. History reveals no more splendid example of unswerving loyalty. The whole story of Prince Charlie’s wanderings is one of the proudest traditions of the land of mountain and of glen. As a memorial of his gallant but hopeless attempt to overthrow King George the Second we have those spirited and tender Jacobite songs which have become an imperishable part of our literature. They are a monument not so much to the young man whom they commemorate as to the race which saw in him its best and most inspiring ideals.