Towards the close of the year, the popular admiration was appealed to by the uncovering of the equestrian statue of George I., in the Royal Exchange. Neither loyalty, disaffection, or criticism had much to say to it. Indeed, criticism, such as it was, alone raised a voice, and then only with a mild sort of utterance: ‘It was judged by the most eminent Masters of that Art to be an excellent and accomplished piece of Work.’ Later in the year, December 15th, when Rowe died, one might expect to find some Tory sarcasm against that ultra-Whig Poet-Laureate, who furnished the prologue to ‘The Nonjuror,’ and for whom Nahum Tate had been displaced. The only expression in reference to the bard who reverenced Hanover was one of indifference for bards generally. ‘Last Saturday,’ say all the papers, ‘died Nicholas Rowe, Esq., Poet Laureate to his Majesty, at his house in King Street, Covent Garden, and is to be interred in Westminster Abbey, where Cowley, Chaucer, Ben Jonson, and the rest of those people lie’!!
CHAPTER XVI.
(1719.)
THE SKIRMISH AT GLENASHIELS.
he year 1719 opened with hopes on the part of the Jacobites which were doomed to be disappointed. The Chevalier had entered into the schemes of the Spanish Minister, Cardinal Alberoni, for overturning the English settlement. A landing in Scotland and an invasion of England were to be the means for re-establishing the Stuarts. Early in March, groups of Londoners were to be seen reading the proclamation which offered a reward of 5,000l. for the apprehension of the Duke of Ormond, the destined leader of the expedition that was to invade England. For catching and delivering attainted peers of less mark, 1,000l. was the sum offered; and rebel gentlemen beneath the dignity of a peer, were valued at 500l. each. The fleet destined to carry out the object of the invaders was so disabled by tempests, that after struggling from Cadiz to Cape Finisterre, most of the vessels returned to the former port, and no one in England enjoyed his anticipated chance of getting 5,000l. by capturing Ormond, ‘Captain-General of the King of Spain;’ or smaller prize for less important men. The Marquis of Tullibardine (the Jacobite son of the Whig Duke of Athol who came to London) and the Earls Marischal and Seaforth, did, however, land in Scotland in April, with about 400 followers, chiefly Spaniards. They were joined by 1,000 Highlanders. On the 10th of June, the Chevalier’s birthday, the three leaders above named were defeated by General Wightman, at Glenashiels, but they contrived to escape. The Highlanders dispersed; the Spaniards surrendered; and therewith the first half of the year ended pleasantly for King George and his friends.
London lit her bonfires and otherwise illuminated. From Thomas’s press behind the Royal Exchange was issued a satirical ‘Hymn to the Victory in Scotland,’ lines from which long hung on the popular tongue. The Scots and Spaniards were described in doggerel as being thoroughly beaten, yet escaping, ‘Lost in a fog in sunshine weather.’ The battle lasted from five a.m. till night, but when the field was won, there were neither wounded nor slain upon it. ‘Dead and Living fled together, without the loss of man or gun!’
Such mercy in this fight was shown,