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[391] by all the bag-pipes of the rebel army, playing their favorite air, “The king shall enjoy his own again.”

As for Sir John Cope, the commander-inchief, who had fought at Dettingen and Fontenoy, he contrived, with the aid of a white rose on his breast, which was the Pretender's badge, to slip through the Highland clans with a few dragoons, and, escaping to Edinburgh, dashed through the streets of the city at full gallop. They were refused admission, as a pack of cowards, into the castle, by the stout governor, who held it for King George, and “seized with a fresh panic, went off again,” says Lord Stanhope, “at full speed towards Coldstream. Even there they did not feel secure, but after a night's rest sought shelter behind the ramparts of Berwick. There they arrived in the most disgraceful disorder, and Sir John Cope was received by his brother officer, Lord Mark Kerr, with the sarcastic compliment, that he believed he was the first general on record who had carried the tidings of his own defeat.”

The three generals who commanded the royal forces, while England lay under the paralyzing influence of a six months panic, were Sir John Cope, Field Marshal Wade, and General Hawley. Their respective shares, in the military operations, were commemorated by the wits of the day (after the danger was past) in the following couplet:

Cope could not cope, nor Wade wade through the snow,
Nor Hawley haul his cannon to the foe.

What “bubble burst” when Charles Edward, flashed with success, his little force now swelled to seven thousand, invaded England, besieged and reduced Carlisle, baffled Field Marshal Wade, and reached Derby on his way to London? “It certainly appears to me,” says Lord Stanhope in his interesting monograph on the “Forty-five,” “that the prince and his soldiers were right in their reluctance to retreat, and that, had they pursued their progress, they would, in all probability, have succeeded in their object. A loyal writer,” (Fielding, the great novelist,) “who was in London at the time, declares that when the Highlanders, by a most incredible march, got between the Duke of Cumberland's army and the metropolis, they struck a terror into it, scarcely to be credited.” An immediate rush was made upon the Bank of England, which,, it is said, only escaped bankruptcy by paying in sixpences, to gain time. The shops were shut, public business for the most part suspended, and the restoration of the Stuarts, desired by some, but disliked by many more, was yet expected by all as no improbable or distant occurrence. The Duke of Newcastle, the premier, is believed to have hesitated whether he should not embrace the Pretender's cause, and George the Second was said to have packed up his precious effects and sent them to the royal yacht, to be ready for a start. The day on which the approach of the rebels to Derby was made known in London was long remembered as the Black Friday, and Lord Stanhope sums up the matter with the opinion that if Charles (whose forces never exceeded 8,000, and these miserably armed and clothed, and unprovided with every thing requisite for success) had marched onward from Derby, he would have gained the British throne!1 “It is true,” he adds, “I am far from thinking that he would long have held it.” This may be or may not be, but one would think that, with the recent memory of events like these, our brethren beyond the water might moderate the scorn with which they comment on the panic of our volunteers, and hesitate before they infer from it that “the bubble of democracy has burst.” I say “recent memory,” for Charles Edward was born but thirty-six years before Farnham, who was introduced to the Prince of Wales, in Boston, last October, and his wife was living in my time at Florence, where she died in 1824.

Boston, August 22.

--New York Ledger.

1 The following description of the army of the Pretender, on its arrival at Derby, 7,000 strong, with which Lord Stanhope, the first living English historian, thinks if he had marched straight on London he might have driven out King George II. and seized his throne, is from the supplement to the Gentleman's Magazine, a loyal publication, for 1755:

They appeared, in general, to answer the description which we have all along had of them, viz.: Most of their main body — shabby, l — sy, pitiful-looking fellows, mixed up with old men and boys ; dressed in dirty plaids, amid as dirty shirts, without breeches, and wore their stockings made of plaid, not much above half way up their legs. and some without shoes or next to none, and numbers of them so fatigued with their long march that they really commanded our pity more than our fear.

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