lly the Butcher was
one of his by-names.]

Murray, the Pretender's secretary, has made ample confessions: the Earl
of Traquair, and Mr. Barry, a physician, are apprehended, and more
warrants are out; so much for rebels! Your friend, Lord Sandwich, is
instantly going ambassador to Holland, to pray the Dutch to build more
ships. I have received yours of July 19th, but you see have no more room
left, only to say, that I conceive a good idea of my eagle, though the
seal is a bad one. Adieu!

P.S.--I have not room to say anything to the Tesi till next post; but,
unless she will sing gratis, would advise her to drop this thought.

_THE BATTLE OF RANCOUX._

TO SIR HORACE MANN.

ARLINGTON STREET, _Oct._ 14, 1746.

You will have been alarmed with the news of another battle lost in
Flanders, where we have no Kings of Sardinia. We make light of it; do
not allow it to be a battle, but call it "the action near Liege." Then
we have whittled down our loss extremely, and will not allow a man more
than three hundred and fifty English slain out of the four thousand. The
whole of it, as it appears to me, is, that we gave up eight battalions
to avoid fighting; as at Newmarket people pay their forfeit when they
foresee they should lose the race; though, if the whole army had fought,
and we had lost the day, one might have hoped to have come off for eight
battalions. Then they tell you that the French had
four-and-twenty-pounders, and that they must beat us by the superiority
of their cannon; so that to me it is grown a paradox, to war with a
nation who have a mathematical certainty of beating you; or else it is
still a stranger paradox, why you cannot have as large cannon as the
French.[1] This loss was balanced by a pompous account of the triumphs
of our invasion of Bretagne; which, in plain terms, I think, is reduced
to burning two or three villages and reimbarking: at least, two or three
of the transports are returned with this history, and know not what is
become of Lestock and the rest of the invasion. The young Pretender is
landed in France, with thirty Scotch, but in such a wretched condition
that his Highland Highness had no breeches.

[Footnote 1: Marshal Saxe had inspired his army with confidence that a
day of battle was sure to be a day of victory, as was shown by the
theatrical company which accompanied the camp. After the performance on
the evening of October 10th the leading actress announced that there
would be no