so beautifully one of the highest offices of poetry, by preserving the memory of noble actions in the simple language of the heart. At Manchester, the prince divided his army into two columns, in order to advance more rapidly. His ranks were gradually filling up. Manchester and Preston had furnished six hundred recruits. A still more touching instance of devotion awaited him at Stockport. It was from an old lady by the name of Skyring that it came. When an infant in her mother's arms, she had been carried to see the landing of Charles the Second, and from that day loyalty became her worship. During the long exile of the Stuarts, she had every year set apart a portion of her income as a tribute to her rightful sovereign, carefully concealing from whom it came, lest her name should awaken unpleasant recollections of the ingratitude with which the services and sacrifices of her father had been repaid. And now that the last of this cherished race was come to claim his rights, old and infirm as she was, she sold her jewels and her plate, in order to raise a small sum for his aid, and brought it to him in a purse, and laid it at his feet; "And now," said she, "let me die, for mine eyes have beheld him."

At Macclesfield the two columns met again. The advanced posts of the Duke of Cumberland were at Newcastle under Lyne, in Staffordshire, near enough to cut them off from the road to London. To prevent this, and deceive the enemy, a party of thirty horse was sent forward on the Newcastle road, as if the whole army were marching in that direction. Cumberland fell into the snare, and prepared himself for battle. Meanwhile, the prince was pressing forward in two columns, by Congleton and Gasworth, to Derby, which he entered in triumph on the 4th of December. The road was now open, and London but forty leagues dis

tant.

Charles Edward had hardly entered his quarters, when a courier from Scotland brought him the welcome intelligence of the arrival of Lord Drummond at Montrose, with his own regiment, the royal Scotch, two squadrons of cavalry, and the pickets of the Irish brigade of Count Lally, whose tragic death,* after years of brilliant service, has left so deep

The filial piety of Lally Tollendal was a noble example for the Prince of Moskowa. But the son of Marshal Ney still retains his seat in the

a stain upon the name of Louis the Fifteenth.

There came,

at the same time, letters from his adherents in Wales, full of hope and promise; and from Newcastle, though garrisoned by the enemy; and some, too, from London, which, though less decided, still gave a flattering picture of his prospects. He instantly summoned his council, and laid his despatches before them, trusting that they, too, would catch new vigor from the cheering tidings.

Such, however, was far from being their feeling. They had looked around them, and found themselves alone, in the heart of a country which, if not hostile, was at least indifferent, and which the slightest reverse might raise up against them. They had been weighing all the chances of victory and all the hazards of defeat, and counting one by one the obstacles in their way, and which seemed to be increasing at every step, till their hearts sank within them; and of all their former confidence, the only hope that remained was of safety and retreat.

When the prince laid his despatches before them, they listened in silence, and with the constrained air of men who have some unwelcome thing to say, which they know not how to begin with. At last Lord George Murray rose, and, in a set speech, drew a dark picture of their position; the state of the country, the wavering and unsatisfactory conduct of the English Jacobites, the difficulties that beset them on every side, and which seemed to increase the farther they advanced, the rashness of persevering in an enterprise from which they had so much to fear and so little to hope, and concluded by insisting upon the necessity of an immediate retreat. All seemed to mark their approbation by their looks and gestures. It was evident that the whole scene had been concerted. The Duke of Perth alone stood aloof, leaning his head upon the mantelpiece, and with a dejected countenance, which seemed to say that this was one of those occasions in which the prince's will should be the law of his adherents.

Charles Edward was taken wholly by surprise, for never had his hopes been higher, and never had he been less appre

Chamber of Peers, while the ashes of his father lie undistinguished in their humble sepulchre, without any other record than the simple offerings with which individual gratitude piously labors to atone for the wanton violation of public justice.

hensive of opposition. The ardor of his troops, who, boasting that they had penetrated farther into England than their fathers had ever done, were eager to be led to battle; the promises of his adherents, who, from all sides, gave him the strongest attestations of their zeal for his cause; the landing of one part of his reinforcements, with the assurance that the first fair wind would bring the remainder, under the guidance of his brother and the Duke of Richelieu; these had inspired him with such confidence, that he had almost fancied himself at the gates of Whitehall, when he was thus suddenly summoned to retrace his steps towards Scotland. It was in vain that he urged every argument, answered every objection, that he addressed himself to the personal feelings, the pride, the love of glory, the professions of loyalty of the chiefs, and with tears of indignation and rage declared that he had rather be buried twenty feet under ground than give his consent to a measure so fatal. The resolve of the council had been taken, and he was compelled to yield.

The retreat began before break of day, and for a while the troops marched cheerfully on, in the confidence that three days more would bring them to London. But as day began to dawn, and they began to recognize by the way-side the same houses and fields which they had passed by but two days before, "What does this mean?" said one to another. "Is this the victory that has been promised us? Or have we been beaten, that we are condemned to retreat?" And the feeling, gathering strength as it spread from rank to rank, at length broke out in one unanimous cry of indignation, which the chiefs, with all the weight of their hereditary authority, could scarcely suppress. The prince came in the rear, silent, dejected, unheeding what was said or done around him. The hour of hope was past, and the fate of the Stuarts was sealed for ever.

Two days passed before the Duke of Cumberland became fully aware of the enemy's intentions; and then, mounting a part of his foot behind the cavalry, and despatching orders to Marshal Wade to cut off the road to Scotland, he pressed forward in pursuit. But with the double advantage of a two days' start and the habitual rapidity of their movements, the Highlanders were already too far in advance to be overtaken. Wade continued to move with his usual hesitation, and when

the Duke of Cumberland joined him, the main body of the retreating army was already well on its way towards Carlisle. The rear-guard, under Lord Murray, which had remained a little behind in order to repair some of the baggage-wagons, was the only portion which came in contact with the English, whom they defeated in the brilliant combat of Clifton inclosures; where Murray manœuvred with so much skill as to give his little army the appearance of double its number, and the Duke of Cumberland, but for a pistol's missing fire, would have been killed on the field.

On the 31st of December, the anniversary of the prince's birthday, the army reëntered Scotland. During the last few days it had been raining without intermission, and the worn tartans, the bare feet, and long beards of the men, showed what hard service they had been performing. This evil, however, was easily repaired by a contribution of the city of Glasgow, which, having all along been distinguished by its hostility, could with more justice be singled out as a fit subject for punishment.

But not so with the injurious impressions produced by the retreat, which, as Charles Edward had clearly foretold, was everywhere interpreted as a confession of inferiority. The Hanoverian magistrates had resumed their functions; the English troops were returning into the kingdom; the partisans of the existing government were rising to its support; and several, who had hitherto kept aloof in order to judge by the result, now came forward and declared themselves against the restoration. Edinburgh had opened its gates to General Hawley, and all the Lowlands seemed upon the point of being reconquered by the house of Hanover with as much ease and rapidity as they had been won by their opponents. In England, Carlisle, the only point which an effort had been made to retain, had been compelled to surrender after a few days' siege, and its garrison of three hundred men were the first upon that dark roll of victims which marked the bloody triumph of Cumberland.

Bitterly as he had been disappointed, Charles Edward resolved to struggle to the last, and one more gleam of hope came to cheer him in his sorrow. Still, his confidence in his adherents had been shaken, and we shall no more find in him that buoyancy of spirit, that frankness of heart, that freshness and overflowing of feeling, which enthusiasm in

spires, until bitter experience comes to check its expansion by the proofs it brings, in far too great abundance, of the selfishness of human motives and the insincerity of man's professions. The army of reserve, which had not yet moved from Perth, was ordered to hasten forward in order to effect its junction with the main body, and with his united forces, nine thousand men in all, he proceeded to lay siege to Stirling. The town surrendered in two days, and the citadel, built, like that of Edinburgh, upon a precipitous rock, was immediately invested.

The loss of this important post might have produced another revulsion in public feeling, still wavering between the two parties. To prevent so fatal an occurrence, the English general resolved to advance and offer battle. Like Sir John Cope, he was too fully convinced of the superiority of his disciplined battalions to doubt for a moment the result; and accordingly, without waiting for the reinforcements which were hourly expected, he put himself at the head of the eight thousand men he had at hand, and marched rapidly forward towards Stirling. But before he set out upon his march, he caused five gibbets to be erected in one of the principal squares of Edinburgh for the more speedy punishment of those of the rebels who should be unhappy enough to escape death in the field.

Charles Edward's spirits revived at the prospect of a battle. He had with him nine thousand men, a larger army than he had ever commanded before, and among them were several regiments on whose discipline and experience he could fully rely. A thousand men were left to continue the siege, and with the rest he advanced to meet the enemy. The two armies were thus nearly equal in number, the English having received on the eve of the battle a reinforcement of a thousand volunteers. If, as a whole, they were better armed, and trained by a more vigorous discipline, their adversaries had the advantage of a higher enthusiasm and the prestige of two victories. Hawley encamped in the plain of Falkirk, a name of bitter remembrance to the Scotch, for it was here that the first Edward had triumphed by treachery over the heroic valor of Wallace, and tradition still pointed out the withered trunk of the oak amid whose branches the unfortunate chieftain had sought shelter in his flight. But Bannockburn, too, was near, and at their head was the prince in