uard, making a
very fine display. The Guards were followed by the main body of the
army, who marched in tolerable order, two or three abreast, with eight
standards, mostly having white flags and a red cross; the bag-pipers
playing as they entered. Whilst they were in the market-place, they
caused the Chevalier to be proclaimed King, and then asked for the
magistrates. These functionaries appeared without their gowns of office,
having cautiously sent them out of the town; a circumstance which was
with some difficulty excused by the insurgents.

In the dusk of the evening Charles Edward arrived: he walked on foot,
attended by many of his men, who followed him to Exeter House, where the
Prince remained until his retreat northwards. Here he had guards placed
all round the house, and here he maintained the semblance of a Court, in
the very heart of that country which he so longed to enter.

The temporary abode of Charles Edward still remains in perfect repair,
and much in the same state, with the exception of change of furniture,
as when he held levees there. Exeter House at that time belonged to
Brownlow, Earl of Exeter, whose connexion with the town of Derby was
owing to his marriage with a lady of that city. The house stands back
from Full Street, and is situated within a small triangular court. An
air of repose, notwithstanding the noise of a busy and important town,
characterizes this interesting dwelling. It is devoid of pretension; its
gables and chimneys proclaim the Elizabethan period. A wide staircase,
rising from a small hall, leads to a square, oak-panelled drawing-room,
the presence-chamber in the days of the ill-fated Charles. On either
side are chambers, retaining, as far as the walls are concerned, much of
the character of former days, but furnished recently. One of these
served the Prince as a sleeping-room; the rest were occupied by his
officers of state, and by such of his retinue as could be accommodated
in a house of moderate size. The tenement contains many small rooms and
closets, well adapted, had there been need, for concealment and escape.

The back of Exeter House is picturesque in the extreme. The character of
the building is here more distinctly ancient; and its architecture is
uniform, though simple. Beyond the steps by which you descend from a
spacious dining-room, is a long lawn, enclosed between high walls, and
extending to the brink of the river Derwent. A tradition prevails in
Derby, that