The Skirmish Which Cost the Throne?

If you asked people what happened in Scotland in the eighteenth century, most would make some reference to Bonnie Prince Charlie. Especially if you said mid-eighteenth century. Narrow it down to the year 1746 and some will make reference to the aftermath of the final Jacobite uprising. Cut it down to April and they will mention Culloden.

But there was another conflict occurred in April 1746, one which was claimed shortly afterwards to have cost the throne: Littleferry.

Very little is taught and discussed surrounding the events of the Jacobite uprising north of Drumossie, where the battle of Culloden was fought. It is almost as if the north of Scotland had no part to play. People sing about “over the sea to Skye” and suppose that, between Inverness to the east and Skye to the west, this was the furthest reach of the Jacobites. But that is not the case.

The Jacobite funds, carried by French and Spanish ships, had been blocked in the Kyle of Tongue far to the north only a month earlier, while the town of Dornoch had been successfully claimed by the Jacobite Duke of Perth. Although these were comparatively small battles, they were nonetheless instrumental in the outcome of the Stuart cause.

The land of the Sutherlands was known to be in favour of Hanover, at least on paper. The earl had come out on the side of the crown, but he had failed to send any substantial arms in support. Instead, he had his own militia which he would occasionally lend to the king’s war efforts. This wavering in his loyalty had led to the Earl of Sutherland’s commitment being questioned until, in February 1746, the Earl of Cromartie – one George Mackenzie – led a contingent of Jacobites against Sutherland’s castle at Dunrobin. The Jacobites successfully stormed the castle, and Sutherland only narrowly escaped, having to flee through a side door. He hopped on a boat and joined the Hanoverian forces which were massing in Aberdeen. No one now doubted his loyalty, but his competency was not only questioned but mocked.

What made it worse for the poor earl was that his wife was unashamedly a Jacobite sympathiser. Some even denounced her as a supporter. She made no attempt to conceal this fact and, when the earl fled to Aberdeen, she remained unharmed and – quite probably – content in the castle her husband’s enemy had just conquered.

Welcome to Golspie, 15th April 1746. It is only a day before what will mark the last battle on British soil but, at this point, the regiment of Jacobite supporters, drawn predominantly from the clans Gregor, Mackinnon and Mackenzie, were heading south to join the others in the ranks of the Stuart army. There was a laid-back feel to this, more a meander than a march. Yes, the prince had returned prematurely to Scotland, and we now know that, had he continued south from Derby, Charles Edward Stuart could well have taken the throne for his father. But, at this point, these men did not know of the bickering and fracturing within the Stuart ranks. They were just going to support their prince.

Feeling safe in their landscape, Cromartie and his officers had allowed their men to set their own speed on the march, while they followed behind. This complacency and the divide in ranks which it caused, was to cost the lives of several men and, according to Angus Mackay, the Jacobite cause itself. A band of Hanoverian militia, but from the clans of Sutherland and Mackay, were poised on the slopes of Ben Bhraggie, which overlooks Golspie. It is quite likely that they had been observing the Jacobites’ movements for a number of days and, seeing this opportunity, they knew the time to act was here.

Gathering momentum into the famous Highland Charge, this well-ordered militia filled the gap between men and officers. Carrying the element of surprise, the Mackays and Sutherland fought back the rank and file towards the coast at Littleferry, resulting in the drowning of dozens of men. Divided from their officers, the men were leaderless and, of those who were not killed, half of them surrendered and were taken prisoner. Cromartie returned to Dunrobin, beseeching the help of Countess Sutherland. She concealed him, but he had been seen entering the castle and Ensign John Mackay, who was leading the Hanoverian militia, searched every room of Dunrobin, ultimately finding Cromartie under one of the beds.

Ultimately, Cromartie and his fellow officers were charged with treason. He received a pardon conditionally on his remaining in southern England and was stripped of his peerage and land. It was a preferable end to his fellow officers, however, who were all executed within a year of their role at Littleferry.

The Mackays and Sutherlands proudly boasted that, in the failure of these troops as reinforcements at Drumossie, they had successfully concluded the uprising (although they referred to it as a rebellion). In a way, they were correct. Later historians have stated that it would be hugely unlikely Cromartie’s men would have made it to Drumossie on time. If Cromartie had made it to Inverness, however, with even his small regiment of men, perhaps the Jacobite forces would have felt strong enough to come back from their flight into the landscape… Perhaps Bonnie Prince Charlie would have ceased his journey west and returned to those few men who arrived under his own colours… In this respect, those trumped-up claims that Ensign John Mackay ended the threat to the Hanoverian crown is not over-stated. But perhaps the truth is, just as the Stuarts’ cause exploded through promise and hope across Scotland in the raising of the standard on 19th August 1745, it imploded long before Culloden with internal conflict, disagreements and bickering.

It is a strange thing to consider how differently history may have run if such a small and overlooked event had taken another course. To go to Littleferry today, you would never know there had been a conflict there, much less one so instrumental in the shaping of the entire country. There are a handful of houses, an old pier, and the shale of the beach below where trinkets of the drowned men used to wash up in the weeks following the skirmish. The most eye-catching memorial in the landscape is The Mannie, a plinthed statue of one of the most ruthless men in early nineteenth century Scotland, which stands on the top of Ben Bhraggie. But he belonged to the next chapter of Sutherland’s tumultuous history…