ARLINGTON STREET, _Sept._ 6, 1745.
It would have been inexcusable in me, in our present circumstances, and
after all I have promised you, not to have written to you for this last
month, if I had been in London; but I have been at Mount Edgecumbe, and
so constantly upon the road, that I neither received your letters, had
time to write, or knew what to write. I came back last night, and found
three packets from you, which I have no time to answer, and but just
time to read. The confusion I have found, and the danger we are in,
prevent my talking of anything else. The young Pretender, at the head of
three thousand men, has got a march on General Cope, who is not eighteen
hundred strong; and when the last accounts came away, was fifty miles
nearer Edinburgh than Cope, and by this time is there. The clans will
not rise for the Government: the Dukes of Argyll and Athol are come post
to town, not having been able to raise a man. The young Duke of Gordon
sent for his uncle, and told him he must arm their clan. "They are in
arms."--"They must march against the rebels."--"They will wait on the
Prince of Wales." The Duke flew in a passion; his uncle pulled out a
pistol, and told him it was in vain to dispute. Lord Loudon, Lord
Fortrose, and Lord Panmure have been very zealous, and have raised some
men; but I look upon Scotland as gone! I think of what King William said
to Duke Hamilton, when he was extolling Scotland: "My Lord, I only wish
it was a hundred thousand miles off, and that you was king of it!"
There are two manifestoes published, signed Charles Prince, Regent for
his father, King of Scotland, England, France, and Ireland. By one, he
promises to preserve everybody in their just rights; and orders all
persons who have public monies in their hands to bring it to him; and by
the other dissolves the union between England and Scotland. But all this
is not the worst! Notice came yesterday, that there are ten thousand
men, thirty transports, and ten men-of-war at Dunkirk. Against this
force we have--I don't know what--scarce fears! Three thousand Dutch we
hope are by this time landed in Scotland; three more are coming hither.
We have sent for ten regiments from Flanders, which may be here in a
week, and we have fifteen men-of-war in the Downs. I am grieved to tell
you all this; but when it is so, how can I avoid telling you? Your
brother is just come in, who says he has written to you--I have not time
to expiate.
My Lady O[rford] is arrived; I hear she says, only to endeavour to get a
certain allowance. Her mother has sent to offer her the use of her
house. She is a poor weak woman. I can say nothing to Marquis Ricardi,
nor think of him; only tell him that I will when I have time.
My sister [Lady Maria Walpole] has married herself, that is, declared
she will, to young Churchill. It is a foolish match; but I have nothing
to do with it. Adieu! my dear Sir; excuse my haste, but you must imagine
that one is not much at leisure to write long letters--hope if you can!
_THIS AND THE FOLLOWING LETTERS GIVE A LIVELY ACCOUNT OF THE PROGRESS OF
THE REBELLION TILL THE RETREAT FROM DERBY, AFTER WHICH NO PARTICULAR
INTEREST ATTACHES TO IT._