BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE.
King George returned to England covered with glory in September, 1743,
and finding himself popular took that opportunity of snubbing once more
the Prince of Wales, and ignoring his presence as heretofore. This was
particularly ungracious, as the Princess was at the time lying ill.
The King must have sadly missed his Minister, and trusty adviser of
twenty-one years, Sir Robert Walpole, now created Earl of Orford,
Viscount Walpole and Baron of Houghton, but none the less “Sir Robert
Walpole” to the people and posterity. Though the great statesman--the
peaceful statesman, despite his other faults--had retired immediately
on his fall in February, 1742, to his estate at Houghton, yet it is
perfectly clear that his old master frequently consulted him, on
the many points of trouble which were now arising around him, and
that meetings took place between them, notwithstanding the fact that
determined efforts were being made to impeach the Earl; attempts
which signally failed. There is no doubt that in responding to a call
from the King to come and advise him on some knotty point--the coming
Scottish rebellion it may be--Walpole met his death. The house of
a Mr. Fowler, a Commissioner of Excise, in Golden Square, was the
rendezvous where Walpole received the King’s messages.
For there had long been unrest in the North, and rumours of the coming
of the Pretender’s son.
It was in answer to such a summons from King George that Walpole left
Houghton for London, though suffering from a painful malady, and
greatly increased it by the journey. So great was his pain that he had
to be kept under the influence of opium for the greater part of the
day, but it is said that during the few hours that his mind was clear,
his conversation had all the life and brilliancy of former times, which
during his retirement to Norfolk, a lonely old man, had entirely left
him. However, these moments were but the last expiring flashes of his
great intellect. He died on the 18th March, 1745, just at the time when
he was most needed by the King, at the commencement of that fateful
year for England, when Bonnie Prince Charlie came over the water,
raised an army in Scotland, and made a victorious march on air, almost
to London itself.
Charles Edward Louis Philip Casimir, son of the Old Pretender,
James Stuart, and his wife Clementine Sobieski--granddaughter of
John Sobieski, King of Poland--and grandson of James the Second of
England, was born in Rome in 1720, consequently when he started on his
expedition to Scotland he was about twenty-five.
Lord Mahon describes him as follows:--
“The person of Charles (I begin with this for the sake of female
readers) was tall and well formed; his limbs athletic and active. He
excelled in all manly exercises, and was inured to every kind of toil,
especially long marches on foot, having applied himself to field sports
in Italy, and become an excellent walker.
“His face was strikingly handsome, of a perfect oval and a fair
complexion; his eyes light blue; his features high and noble. Contrary
to the custom of the time which prescribed perukes, his own fair hair
usually fell in long ringlets on his neck.[67] This goodly person was
enhanced by his graceful manners; frequently condescending to the most
familiar kindness, yet always shielded by a regal dignity; he had a
peculiar talent to please and to persuade, and never failed to adapt
his conversation to the taste, or to the station of those whom he
addressed.”
(At the age of thirteen, Pope Innocent the XII pronounced Prince
Charlie, dressed in a little bright cuirass and a rich point lace
cravat, “truly an angel.”)
Such was the man who came secretly from France in August, 1745, with
but two ships, to challenge Frederick’s right to the title of Prince of
Wales.
The two aforesaid vessels of Prince Charlie being chased by men-of-war
and somewhat roughly handled, they had to separate, so that it was
simply an unconvoyed little merchant ship which at last brought the
Stuart to the western isles. There at first he passed as a young
English clergyman come to see the Highlands; but on the 19th of that
month of August, he threw off his clerical garb and raising his
standard at Glenfinnan called the clans to assemble round it.
Here he was joined by six hundred of the Camerons under their chief
Lochiel, Keppoch with three hundred of his men, and many other smaller
parties.
With a war chest of but four thousand louis d’or, which he had brought
with him, and a very varied collection of arms, Prince Charlie the next
morning commenced a march which ended only at Derby, one hundred and
twenty miles from London, and which, if persevered in, would have led
him in all probability, to the steps of the English throne.
At this time King George the Second was in Hanover, but so alarming
were the reports which reached him of the Stuart Prince’s doings, that
he set out at once, and on the 31st of August reached London.
This absence of the King in Hanover, is pretty strong evidence that the
movements of the young invader had been conducted in absolute secrecy.
The King on his arrival found, however, that the Regency--which
apparently did not include the Prince of Wales--had not been idle.
Warrants had been issued against the Duke of Perth and Sir Hector
Maclean, but the former escaped.
The Dutch had also been called upon to supply six thousand auxiliaries
according to contract, a decision had been come to to recall some of
the regiments from Flanders, the nucleus of an army was being formed at
Newcastle under Marshal Wade, and some of the militia had been called
out.
The spirit of the people, however, remained perfectly passive;
probably they looked upon the incursion of Prince Charlie as a sort of
filibustering expedition similar to that of his father in 1715, which
would soon fizzle out.
Henry Fox, who was at the time a member of the Government, thus records
this apathy on the part of the public in confidential letters to Sir C.
H. Williams. He writes on September 5th, 1745:
“England, Wade says, and I believe, is for the first comer; and if
you can tell whether the six thousand Dutch and the ten battalions of
English, or five thousand French or Spaniards will be there first, you
will know our fate....”
He continues on September 19th:
“God be thanked! But had five thousand landed on any part of this
island a week ago, I verily believe the entire conquest would not have
cost them a battle.”
The King, however, was persuaded that the affair was of no importance,
and promptly snubbed the Prince of Wales when he asked for a command.
Even a regiment was denied him, while his younger brother was given a
brigade straight away in Flanders two years before!
Frederick upon this stood apart as it were, with his arms folded, and
contemplated the preparations cynically.
Matters stood in this wise until well on into September, when news
arrived of the total defeat of Sir John Cope’s army at Preston Pans on
September 20th.
What was more surprising than this, however, was the news of the
Prince’s exceeding moderation and kindness to the vanquished.
He showed himself on this occasion of victory, as indeed he did at all
times in the campaign, a kind-hearted and honourable gentleman, who
could have taken his place among the knights in the days of chivalry.
Had Charles been able to pursue his victory, and to have made a forced
march into England, he might soon have ended the matter, but most of
his Highlanders disappeared for the time to put their share of the
spoil of the battle in safe places in the mountains.
However, within six weeks he had an army of six thousand men again
round his standard at Holyrood, and with these he presently set forth
again towards England.
To his credit be it said that his army was an orderly one; all
irregularities he repressed with a firm hand. True it might have
happened sometimes that his Highlanders would stop some prosperous
looking traveller on the road and level their firelocks at him,
but when the trembling victim inquired what they wanted the answer
generally was “a baubee,” _i.e._, a halfpenny.[68]
But the march to England was an exceedingly unpopular one with the
Highlanders, and many of them deserted during the first few days and
went home; the remainder were difficult to deal with, and it is said
that one morning Prince Charles had to argue with them for an hour and
a half before he could get them to march at all.
However, they reached Kelso and there halted for two days. In the
accounts of this extraordinary march what strikes one particularly is
the wonderfully good generalship displayed by Lord George Murray, who
commanded the first division, and who, time after time, out-manœuvred
the best of King George’s generals, evading and misleading them with
the greatest ease, until he finally placed the mobile little army which
he commanded between the King’s forces and London.
From Kelso Lord George made the first of his excellent feints. He sent
forward messengers to prepare quarters for his troops at Wooler; this
was to deceive Marshal Wade, and draw off his attention from Carlisle,
which was really the object of Murray’s attack.
Wade fell into the trap, while the Prince’s forces made a forced march
down Liddisdale and entered Cumberland and laid siege to Carlisle.
This important frontier fortress was in a bad state. The garrison of
the Castle consisted of about a company of invalid soldiers, while the
defences of the town itself were old and mouldering. Nevertheless there
was here a large body of Cumberland militia raised for King George,
while the attacking force had only a few four-pounder cannon to bring
against it. But in five days, though the Mayor began by a good show
of resistance, the town and Castle surrendered to Prince Charles,
providing him with an abundance of arms and ammunition.
With regard to this siege of Carlisle, a great deal has been made
by the enemies of Frederick, Prince of Wales, of an incident which
occurred concerning it at this time.
It so happened that a representation of the Castle of Carlisle--in
pastry--was served up at the Prince’s table--it must be remembered that
his table was supplied by a caterer--no doubt it was intended by the
cook as a surprise, such as cooks are very fond of preparing for their
masters.
Great exception has been taken to the fact that the Prince _and_ the
Maids of Honour--these Maids of Honour seemed prone to evil--bombarded
the sham castle with sugar plums! What else could be expected from a
parcel of Maids of Honour and a lighthearted Prince who rolled Bubb
Doddington, in all his priggish solemnity, down a flight of stairs in
a blanket? Yet the Prince’s traducers endeavoured to give the incident
a political significance as a sign of the Prince’s indifference to the
sufferings of the besieged!
As a matter of fact it was a most bloodless siege, and only lasted five
days, the garrison marching out and going home unmolested.
From Carlisle, with four thousand five hundred men, Prince Charlie
marched by Shaw, Kendal and Lancaster to Preston, where he arrived on
November 27th. Very different marching this to the progress of our army
under Lord Stair, when moving from Flanders to the banks of the Maine
in 1743, which progress took, as we have seen, four months!
Preston was regarded by the Highlanders as a fatal barrier, beyond
which they could not pass, as the Duke of Hamilton had been defeated
there in the Civil Wars, and Brigadier Macintosh surrendered at the
same spot in 1715.
To break this tradition Lord George Murray marched across and beyond
the Ribble bridge.
From Preston, Prince Charlie pushed on to Wigan and Manchester, still
unopposed, for the aged Marshal Wade had withdrawn to Newcastle on
finding the mountain roads around him blocked with snow.
The following is a description of Charles’s entry into Manchester,
given in the letter of a spy stationed there and sent to the Duke of
Cumberland:
“28th November.
“Just now are come in two of the Pretender’s men, a sergeant, a
drummer, and a woman with them. I have seen them; the sergeant is a
Scotchman, the drummer is a Halifax man, and they are now going to beat
up. These two men and the woman, without any others, came into the
town amidst thousands of spectators. I doubt not we shall have more
to-night. They say we’re to have the Pretender to-morrow. They are
dressed in plaids and bonnets. The sergeant has a target.”
“29th November.
“The two Highlanders who came in yesterday and beat up for volunteers
for him they called His Royal Highness Charles, Prince of Wales,
offered five guineas advance; many took on; each received one shilling
to have the rest when the Prince came.
“They do not appear to be such terrible fellows as has been
represented. Many of the foot are diminutive creatures, but many clever
men among them. The Guards and officers are all in a Highland dress, a
long sword and stuck with pistols; their horses all sizes and colours.
“The bellman went to order all persons charged with excise, and
innkeepers forthwith to appear, and bring their last acquittance, and
as much ready cash as that contains on pain of military execution. It
is my opinion they will make all haste possible through Derbyshire to
evade fighting Ligonier. I do not see that we have any person in town
to give intelligence to the King’s forces as all our men of fashion
are fled, and all officers under the government. A party came in at ten
this morning, and have been examining the best houses, and have fixed
upon Mr. Dicconson’s for the Prince’s quarters. Several thousands came
in at two o’clock; they ordered the bells to ring, and the bellman
has been ordering us to illuminate our houses to-night, which must be
done. The Chevalier marched by my door in a Highland dress, on foot, at
three o’clock, surrounded by a Highland guard; no music but a pair of
bagpipes.
“Those that came in last night demanded quarters for ten thousand men
to-day.”[69]
Prince Charlie, however, did not beat up many recruits in Manchester,
and altogether the military outlook began to appear very ominous.
This was the position in which the invading Army found itself. On their
rear, Marshal Wade was slowly crawling after them through Yorkshire.
In front was the Duke of Cumberland with eight thousand men, his
head-quarters at Lichfield. Outside London, at Finchley, was another
army, which although it contained the Royal Guards, was composed
chiefly of newly raised troops. This, it was said, was to be commanded
by the King in person. Chester was held by Lord Cholmondeley, its
neighbour Liverpool by the citizens for King George; and the bridges
over the Mersey were broken down. Admiral Vernon cruised with a
strong Fleet in the Channel to prevent a French invasion or landing of
supplies, whilst Admiral Byng was off the East coast of Scotland with a
squadron with the like intention.
Despite, however, all these obstacles to his success, Prince Charlie
was for going on to London, and in this intention he was to a certain
extent supported by Lord George Murray, who in his usual consummate
way, hoodwinked the enemy and picked his way through them with the
greatest ease to Derby, where he was joined by the Prince with his
division on the 4th of December. Here the advance into England came to
a dead stop, even Lord George Murray advised a retreat into Scotland
again, whence news had just arrived that Lord John Drummond had landed
at Montrose with the Regiment of the Royal Scots and other supports and
supplies.
It is a moot question still whether, if Prince Charlie had had his own
way--which he insisted pretty strongly upon for some time, and marched
straight on London where he had mostly new levies of militia to deal
with, he might not have attained his object.
He was but one hundred and twenty-seven miles from London, and the
state of affairs in the capital can best be judged by the following
account of a loyal writer who was in London at the time:
“When the Highlanders, by a most incredible march, got between the
Duke’s army and the metropolis, they struck a terror into it scarcely
to be credited.”[70]
An immediate rush was made upon the Bank of England which only escaped
bankruptcy by paying in sixpences to gain time. Shops were shut and
business suspended. The Duke of Newcastle, the Minister who occupied
Sir Robert Walpole’s place, “stood trembling and amazed.” It is also
stated that King George had some of his “most precious effects--did
these include the Walmoden?”--removed on board his yachts, which
were ordered to remain at the Tower Quay ready to sail at a moment’s
notice. It is not thought likely that he offered the Prince of Wales a
passage in either of these, neither is Frederick mentioned at this time
although no doubt he was with the troops at Finchley.
But all these fears in London were groundless. Prince Charles’s
officers had determined among themselves to retreat from Derby back to
Scotland, and the broken-hearted Prince at last reluctantly consented.
By the same road they returned, hotly pursued a part of the way by
the Duke of Cumberland with some thousands of horse; but after a
rear-guard action at the village of Clifton, near Penrith, in which he
lost a hundred men, killed and wounded, the Duke drew off leaving the
Chevalier to retreat in peace to Glasgow, which he reached on the 26th
of December, concluding this marvellous winter’s march of eight hundred
and eighty-two miles in fifty-six days, some of which were of course
resting days.
From this time forward the struggle was really one between the Prince
and the Duke of Cumberland as the aged Marshal Wade was superseded, and
Henry Hawley, one of the Duke of Cumberland’s generals, took his place.
Prince Charles, however, having been reinforced by Lord Strathallan and
Lord John Drummond, easily defeated General Hawley at Falkirk, on the
17th January, 1746, taking many prisoners, one of whom, probably an
Irishman, is recorded to have remarked:
“By my soul, if Charlie goes on in this way, Prince Frederick will
never be King George.”
The authorities in London were soon thoroughly aroused by this victory
of the Highlanders, and determined upon sending the Duke of Cumberland
to take supreme command in Scotland, all danger of an invasion of
England being over. Thus began that memorable campaign of Cumberland’s,
which culminated in Culloden, and--from his savage cruelty to the
wounded at that place--covered his name for evermore with infamy.
William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland at this time, was only in his
twenty-fifth year, having been born on April 15th, 1721, and was just
four months younger than Prince Charlie.
He possessed, however, none of the graces of person of his Stuart
cousin. Though not yet twenty-five, he was exceedingly corpulent and
unwieldy, and had a rough uncouth manner and a savage temper; in fact
he looked exactly what he was afterwards called, “The Butcher.” It was
into such a man as this, that the handsome idolized son of Caroline had
grown.
There could not possibly have been a greater contrast between any two
persons than between these two young men who were destined to fight to
a finish this contest for the throne of England.
Despite the fact that Cumberland had lost the battle of Fontenoy, the
military authorities seemed to feel sufficient confidence in him to
send him to Scotland to take the supreme command at such a critical
period. Certainly his father believed in his military talents such as
they were.
He received his appointment very soon after the arrival in London of
the news of the defeat of Falkirk, and left, as he was requested to do,
without delay, and travelled night and day, arriving unexpectedly at
Holyrood on the 31st of January; here he chose the very bed in which
Prince Charlie had slept.
In Edinburgh he found his favourite, General Hawley, busily engaged
in hanging his own men, right and left, for having run away from the
Highlanders at Falkirk. He had prepared the gallows for the Prince’s
followers, and was using it for his own.
These executions Cumberland at once stopped.
An incident, which occurred in Flanders, will give an idea of the
nature of this brute Hawley, a very fit second-in-command, for such a
man as Cumberland afterwards proved himself to be. During the campaign
in the Low Countries when Hawley commanded a regiment, one of his own
men, a deserter, had been hanged before his windows. So pleasant a
sight did he find it, that when the surgeons came to beg the body for
dissection he was very loth to part with it.
“At least,” he said at last, “you shall give me the skeleton to hang up
in the guard-room!”
Fancy a spruce Colonel of a line-battalion of our own day ordering a
guard-room to be decorated in this fashion! Cumberland remained little
more than twenty-four hours in Edinburgh, then moved out to find the
Prince’s army, which he understood lay at Falkirk; his men appeared to
have advanced with every confidence in him.
Charles had, however, much against his will, commenced a retreat
towards the Highlands, where his generals had persuaded him with much
difficulty to pass the remainder of the winter.
This retreat appears to have been conducted with carelessness and
disorder, and much baggage was lost to the pursuing English troops.
However, Crieff was reached, and here the two divisions marched by
different roads towards Inverness.
It seems pitiable to contrast the position of the Prince’s army from
this time forth, sown with dissension, wandering about in the cold
northern winter and spring among barren mountains from which it was
impossible to break forth, without food or money.
Charles at this period was reduced to his last five hundred louis d’or
and had to pay his troops in meal, which course ended as might have
been expected, in many desertions.
Meanwhile, the Duke of Cumberland’s army was well fed and clothed
and reinforced by five thousand Hessians, who had been hired by the
government. These troops, however, did not take part in the subsequent
battle, but held the line of communications.
But the end came at last. Cumberland having fixed his Headquarters at
Aberdeen, moved out of that place on the 8th of April, 1746, with about
eight thousand infantry, and nine hundred cavalry and marched _via_
Banff and the river Spey on Nairn, which town he entered on the 14th
April.
That night, Charles, who had come up with his Guards, slept at Culloden
House, the seat of President Forbes, one of his principal enemies, his
men to the number of about five thousand bivouacing on the moor using
the heath during the bitter night both for bed and fuel.
There seems to have been an excellent project formed in the Prince’s
Council, by Lord George Murray, to make a night attack upon
Cumberland, which would have stood a good chance of success as the
15th April, being the Duke’s birthday, his soldiers had spent it in
drink and carousing, supplies being plentiful, as a fleet laden with
provisions followed them along the coast.
The night march, however, from a proper want of direction, proved a
lamentable failure, and only served to further exhaust the half-starved
Highlanders, who returned worn out, to Drummossie or Culloden Moor.
There, on the 16th, with the ration of one biscuit per man, they stood
up to meet the well-fed, well-equipped army of Cumberland twice their
number. The result is not to be wondered at.
Their ranks, ploughed by the superior artillery of the English, with
a storm of snow and hail blowing full in their faces, the starved
Highland men endured their position without a murmur, until the order
was given by Lord George Murray to charge.
The Clan of the Macdonalds refused the order; but the right and centre
in one wild rush, swept down on Cumberland’s men and broke through the
first line, capturing two guns.
But there were two lines beyond, and these closing up, and standing
three deep, poured such a volley into the Highlanders that their charge
was shattered by it. That ended the matter; the Prince’s army, which
had never before suffered defeat, broke and fled.
Had the Macdonalds taken part in the charge, the battle might have
ended differently; but after one volley, they remained spectators of
the action, sulking because they were not placed on the right wing.
No sooner was the charge of the Highlanders broken than the English
regiments closed in upon them with the bayonet. Cumberland had with
some skill, instructed his men not to use their bayonets on the
adversaries immediately in front of them in a melée, who were protected
by their small shields, but to stab sideways at the assailants of
their right hand men; what was to become of the unfortunate man on the
extreme left of the line apparently was not stated in the Duke’s order.
Against the solid press of the well-fed English soldiers, at least
two to one, the broken half-starved Highlanders could make no way,
and for the first time in the whole campaign fell back before them;
the Macdonalds on the left wing being the only part of the line which
retreated in anything like order. So far the battle had been fairly
fought, and the Scots fairly beaten; had the Duke of Cumberland treated
them with the ordinary humanity of civilized war, even as civilized war
was understood in those brutal days, not one word would have been said
against him, and he might have handed a clean name down to posterity.
As it was, he preferred to give full play to the most brutal instincts
that a man was ever cursed with.
The chief charge against the Duke of Cumberland, and the charge is
fully substantiated by undeniable testimony--is that in cold blood he
ordered the enemy’s wounded to be butchered.
Nay that a barn into which twenty poor wounded Highland men had crept
was deliberately set on fire, adding to the agony of their wounds the
intolerable pain of death by fire.
That he allowed no sort of attention to be given to the wounded Scots,
but, returning to the field two days after from the pursuit, and
finding still some poor wounded wretches lying where they had fallen,
he fiendishly ordered them to be put to death, some by the bullet, some
by the bayonet, some by the clubbed musket.
It is said that he ordered General Wolfe, then a young officer, to kill
a wounded man, but that Wolfe told him, to his credit, that he would
sooner resign his commission.
And this was the man for whom King George and his Queen, Caroline,
wished to put aside their first-born son, Frederick, Prince of Wales,
whose greatest fault in their eyes perhaps was his gentleness of
nature; his kindness to the poor and needy!
For this great bloated Butcher, Frederick was exiled from his family,
insulted in public and in private, and his character assailed in such a
way that his name has been handed down in history as one to be scoffed
at; though this latter injustice is mainly the work of one man, Lord
Hervey, perhaps after all his bitterest enemy; certainly the meanest
and most contemptible.
But the details of Cumberland’s inhuman cruelty did not come out
for years after, and meanwhile on his return to London, he was
fêted, received the thanks of Parliament, and was given a pension of
twenty-five thousand pounds per annum for himself and his heirs, but
fortunately he had none. Truly the wicked flourish in this world like
the bay tree!
But truth will out, _magna est veritas et prevalebit_; little by little
came to England the evidence of eye witnesses, to the savage cruelty of
this royal Prince of five-and-twenty to the poor, half-starved, maimed
Scots; bit by bit the reputation of the “Butcher” was built up, and it
will stand while the memory of Culloden lasts.
As for Prince Charlie, he was forced from the field, whilst trying to
charge with the remnant of his men, by an Irish officer in the French
service, named O’Sullivan; he fled to Gortuleg, where that ancient
sinner, Lord Lovat, was residing at the time, and who gave him but
a cold welcome so that they parted in anger, the Prince not even
receiving a meal.
On to Glengarry’s Castle of Invergarry, rode Charles through the night
with the last few of his followers, arriving before dawn, only after a
brief rest, to go on and on, with the shadow of the axe ever hanging
over him, till, five months after, he was taken off by a French ship at
Lochnenuagh, the very same spot where he had landed over a year before.
But it would not be possible to conclude even this imperfect sketch of
the Prince’s campaign without paying a tribute to Flora Macdonald, “a
name,” says Dr. Johnson, “which will ever live in history.” The “little
woman of genteel appearance, and uncommonly well bred.”[71]
When Charles was being run down on Long Island with a price of thirty
thousand pounds upon his head, did not this noble young lady, at the
risk of her life, obtain a pass from her stepfather, a captain in
King George’s militia, for herself, a manservant and a maid, and did
she not smuggle away the Prince under the very eyes of his pursuers
in the character of the latter, dressed in petticoats? An achievement
on Charles’s part which called forth from old Macdonald of Kingsburgh
the following dry remark when he saw him crossing a brook and in
difficulties with his petticoats:
“Your enemies call you a Pretender, but if you be, you are the worst of
your trade I ever saw!”
It is a pleasure to know that when Flora Macdonald paid the penalty
of her heroic act, and was brought a prisoner to London, our Prince
Frederick obtained her release.[72]
What a different disposition to his brother, the Butcher’s!
“And would not you, Madam,” asked Frederick of his wife, who had spoken
against Flora in the fashion of the time, “would not you in like
circumstances have done the same? I hope--I am sure you would.”
It is pleasant to think that Flora Macdonald went home from London with
a present of fifteen hundred pounds from the Jacobite ladies of that
place in her pocket.
FOOTNOTES:
[67] This was also a custom adopted by Prince Frederick.
[68] Mahon’s History of England.
[69] State Paper Office, Scotland, 1745, vol. i., VII.
[70] Chevalier Johnstone’s Memoirs, p. 73, 8vo ed.
[71] “Tales of a Grandfather.”
[72] Mahon, vol. 2, p. 203.