at the battle of
Culloden he issued orders to give no quarter, and that such a document
to that effect, in the handwriting of Lord George, was in the possession
of the Duke of Cumberland.[43] This stigma on the fame of Lord George
Murray may have originated from the desperate character of that last
effort: his haughty temper may have been exasperated in the course of
the fatal contest. It is a charge which can now only be repelled by the
previous character of the individual against whom it is made, since it
was never fairly made out, nor satisfactorily contradicted.

After the action was partially over, Lord George Murray perceived that a
number of people were gathered together on the height near to Tranent.
Mistaking them for the enemy, the General marched with his regiment,
accompanied by Lochiel, who had kept his men together in good order,
back to the narrow causeway that led up to Tranent. Here he found that
the supposed enemy were only country-people and servants. From them,
however, he learned that the enemy were at Cokenny, only a mile and a
half distant; and he instantly determined on pursuing them. His energy
and valour in thus doing so, after the events of that harassing and
exhausting day, cannot but be admired. He found on arriving at Cokenny,
a force of about three hundred Highlanders, a volunteer company recently
embodied at Inverness by President Forbes. These soon surrendered;
between sixteen and seventeen hundred prisoners were taken that day,
among whom were seventy officers.[44] "His Royal Highness," adds Lord
George Murray in giving this his personal narrative, "took the same care
of their wounded as of his own. I do not mention the behaviour of all
our officers and men that day; their actions shewed it. I only take
notice of those two that were immediately under my eye, which was
Lochiel's regiment and the Stewarts of Appin." As the enemy's
foot-soldiers had made little or no resistance during the battle of
Preston-Pans, they might have been all cut to pieces had it not been for
the interposition of Prince Charles and his officers, who gained that
day as much honour by their humanity as by their bravery. The Prince,
when the rout began, mounted his horse, galloped all over the field, and
his voice was heard amid that scene of horror, calling on his men to
spare the lives of his enemies, "whom he no longer looked upon as such."
Far from being elated with the victory, which was considered as
complete