There had been an invasion scare in 1708 and a French fleet had actually got as far as the Firth of Forth before Admiral Byng and the Royal Navy drove it off. The most serious of all the Jacobite attempts to overthrow the government, however, came in 1715. It was led by a Scots lord, the Earl of Mar who had the unfortunate nickname of 'Bobbing John'. Mar had originally been an enthusiatic supporter of the Hanoverians, but when he was snubbed by the new king he took himself north and somewhere on the journey became a committed Jacobite. He raised the standard of the Stuarts on the Braes o' Mar and the Mackintoshes and the Mcdonalds came to join him. Stirling was held for the government by the Duke of Argyll and in an attempt to take the rebellion into England, Mar sent Mackintosh of Borlum and 2,000 men across the River Forth, down through the Borders and into the northern counties of England. Borlum picked up some support along the way, notably Viscount Kenmure and his borderers, but the ordinary folk gave him no help and in England were downright hostile. Linking up with the Earl of Derwentwater and his English Catholics, the Jacobites attempted to invade Lancashire but were stopped at the town of Preston. For two days of bitter street fighting they battled a superior government army but were finally forced to surrender. 

       Back in the north Mar was indecisive and unable to provide the passionate leadership that a call to rebellion requires. Early on his men had occupied Perth and Inverness but no French warships bearing either the 'rightful king', gold or weapons had come to his aid. In October after sending Borlum on his melancholy mission to defeat at Preston, Mar came came down from the Highlands and in the shadow of the Ochil Hills, not far from the town of Dunblane, his men met the Duke of Argyll in open battle on the field of Sheriffmuir. Mar's army was twice as large as his opponent's and on the right of the Jacobite line the MacDonalds broke the government infantry and the horse behind them. On the left, however, Argyll's men did much the same and like some great bloody rotating wheel the battle was fought out indecisively. It was not a fight that either could claim a victory (though both did) and at the end of the day Mar retreated to Perth and Argyll still held Stirling and the roads to the south. The battle had been fought on that same Sunday that saw Borlum surrender at Preston. 

       Just before Christmas James II's son, who had styled himself James III since his father's death in 1701 and whose reputation has laboured under history's title of 'the Old Pretender', finally landed at Stonehaven in the north-east of Scotland. He was a cold man and did little to inspire those few who had stayed loyal to Mar after Sheriffmuir. With winter raging, no French troops or supplies and Argyll marching north against him, on February 4th he and Mar took ship for France. Neither would ever see Scotland again. 

       The government were not as vicious in their pacification as they would be after the next great rising and only two of the leaders, Derwentwater and Kenmure, were beheaded. A series of roads were built into the Highlands by General Wade and a string of forts constructed down the line of the Great Glen. The clans were ordered to disarm but they handed in only old and rusty weapons, hiding the best for later use. That would come almost thirty years later and would be led by the Old Pretender's dashing young son - Bonnie Prince Charlie.

      In July 1745, the son of the Old Pretender came to Scotland. He landed at Arisaig where the sands are that beautifully white colour that graces so many north-western Scottish beaches. He came with alomost nothing save seven companions, a little French gold and a few French weapons.  He was young, healthy, handsome and bewitchingly charming. Nobody had wanted him to come; not his father, not Louis XV of France, not even the clansmen who would provide the bulk of his army. By 1745 only an old or middle-aged man could remember the 1715 rising and most of the men driven into exile by its failure had died old and embittered in squalid garret rooms in France, mocked by their hosts and forgotten by their countrymen. 
      At least the prince had come before the rebellion began and not like his father after it had failed. His name was Charles Edward Stuart, the Young Pretender, known forever to history as Bonnie Prince Charlie. He raised his standard at Glenfinnan, at the head of Loch Shiel. The first to come to him were the Camerons led by their chief the 'gentle' Lochiel. Though gentle may have been the name men gave him, he was not slow to burn the cottages of those of his clan reluctant to come out in arms. He was, after all, the chief and his men were bound to him by laws ancient and abominable. Others came; Macdonalds, Frasers, Stewarts, Farquharsons, men of Clan Chattan, Athollmen bearing the name Murray, MacLachlans and many more. Perhaps the intelligence that the government was again raising the Campbells to fight against the Jacobites was more of a spur to participation than any supposed loyalty to the House of Stuart. The Campbells had many enemies amongst the clans and there were many old scores to be settled. 
      In September Charles came down through the Stirling Plain and by the saltworks of Prestonpans his wild clansmen under the command of the able Lord George Murray routed Sir John Cope and the only government army in Scotland in a battle that lasted barely 20 minutes. The Jacobites occupied Edinburgh, though the castle held out for the government. Charles danced nightly in the Palace of Holyrood where his forebears had spent their leisure hours as princes of Scotland in fact not just in name. Five long weeks he tarried and this more than anything else probably doomed his cause. By the time he crossed the River Esk into England on November 8th, the government had been able to recall veteran troops from Flanders and prepare itself for the onslaught of the clans. 
      Advancing by way of Carlisle and Manchester, the Jacobites found almost no support except for a few foolish Lancashire lads who were formed into the Manchester Regiment. The winter began to close in and the clansmen became less enthusiastic the further they strayed from their home mountains. By the time the army reached Derby, its furthest penetration south and barely a hundred miles from London, the situation looked bleak. General Wade commanded a government army at Newcastle in the rear of the rebels, the Duke of Cumberland another just the over the Pennines and a third army was assembling on Finchley Common for the defence of the capital itself. Each of these forces outnumbered the Jacobite army that was now down to less than 5,000 men. Charles argued for pushing on but it was no use, all of his commanders counselled retreat. 
      And so began the painful march north. The Manchester Regiment were left to hold Carlisle but they were soon taken and either hanged or transported to the colonies by a vengeful government with no wish to repeat the leniency it had shown after the '15. 

      Back in Scotland the Jacobite army increased in size to about 8,000 men and attempted to take Stirling Castle. An army under Hawley, a foul-mouthed, martinet leader of dragoons, came up to raise the siege and at Falkirk, not far from where Wallace had been defeated by Edward I, another furious charge of Highlandmen scattered another government force to the winds. Despite this victory, the Jacobite army was hungry and clansmen began to desert in large numbers. Cumberland was approaching with a large well provisioned army and once more the Jacobites retreated, this time to Inverness. Cumberland was not far behind. He finally caught up with them on April 15th, his birthday, and as his men drank his health in their camp at Nairn the Duke and his officers prepared for the battle all knew would come the next day.