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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 2. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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August 22nd (search for this): chapter 123
— 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. 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.
rably armed and clothed, and unprovided with every thing requisite for success) had marched onward from Derby, he would have gained the British throne! 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.
July 25th, 1745 AD (search for this): chapter 123
he English press, with scarce an exception, finds in the recent panic at Bull Run not merely a theme for the bitterest taunts, but the completion of the proof that the bubble of democracy has burst., as if a drawn battle, or, if you please, an ignominious rout, suffered by an army of raw volunteers at the commencement of a war, proved any thing one way or another, in reference to the comparative stability of different forms of government. What bubble burst when Charles Edward, on the 25th of July, 1745, landed from a little bark of eighteen guns, (furnished by a private gentleman in France,) on the western coast of Scotland, for the conquest of Great Britain, and the overthrow of the House of Brunswick? At the head of a handful of clansmen, of whom half were armed with scytes and bludgeons, the youthful adventurer marched upon the ancient capital of Scotland — an object, one would have thought, to England, in the middle of the last century, not so much of fear as of pity. A monarch
— 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. 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.
111 1/2.-the dark day. By Edward Everett. There probably never was a military disaster, of which the importance was more unduly magnified, than that of the 21st of July in front of Manassas. After a severe and protracted encounter between the two armies, which, it is admitted, was about to terminate in a drawn battle, if not the army of the United States has passed through the terrible ordeal of the return of the three months men, which began simultaneously with the disaster of the 21st of July, and in spite of the disheartening effect of that disaster and the confidence it was so well calculated to inspire on the part of the Confederates, our militarne away in a tumultuous retreat, and writes a hurried report by the next mail! There is reason to think that, though the United States forces engaged on the 21st of July under almost every conceivable disadvantage--(raw troops to a great extent, whose term of service was expiring, coming under fire for the first time, after a w
September 17th (search for this): chapter 123
ity. A monarchy consolidated by ages, whose virago queen two centuries before had brought the royal beauty of Scotland to the block — whose armies, under Marlborough, in the preceding generation, had humbled the pride of Louis XIV. in the dust — quailed before an unbreeched rabble of two thousands men from the Highlands. Panic fear marched in their van ; the royal army blundered up to the north, while the Pretender was hurrying southward; the gates of Edinburgh flew open, and on tle 17th of September, just three weeks after his landing, the heir of the Stuarts was seated on the throne of his ancestors in Holyrood House. That two thousand men, wrote the Marquis of Tweedale from Whitehall to Lord Milton, who had escaped from Edinburgh, and these the scum of two or three highland gentlemen, the Camerons, and a few tribes of the Macdonalds, should be able in so short a time to make themselves masters of Edinburgh, is an event which, had it not happened, I should never have believed pos
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. 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.
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