CHAPTER XL
THE XV AND THE XLV
Although the Whigs said that George I was King, many of the Tories thought that the Old Pretender was. The Old Pretender did not raise the standard of rebellion much and is only famous for being late for his own Rebellion, which had been easily put down long before he landed with his memorable XV in Scotland. His standard was of blue silk with the motto “Nemo me impune lacessit,” but when it was raised the top fell off.
The Young Pretender, whose followers were called the XLV, was quite different, his standard being of red silk with the motto “Tandem Triumphans,” and the top didn’t fall off. At Preston Pans the English commander was the first to run away and bring the news of his own defeat, which was thus immediately believed. The hero of these adventures was the memorable Bonnie Prince Charlie (the Young Chandelier), who after being bloodily defeated by a Butcher at Flodden in Cumberland, was helped to escape by his many Scottish lovers, such as Flora MacNightingale (the fair maid of Perth), Amy Robsart, Lorna Doone, Annie Laurie, the Widow with Thumbs, etc.
THE SOUTHSEA BUBBLE
About this time nearly everybody in London stupidly got involved in an enormous bubble that appeared at Southsea. Some were persuaded that it would be a Good Thing if all the money in the country, including the National Debt, were sunk in it; others got into it merely with the object of speculating how soon it would be before it burst. Among these was a very clever man called Walpole who got out of the bubble in time, thus bursting it and becoming the first Prime Minister. Walpole was a Good Prime Minister: the Southsea bubble was thus a Good Thing.
“LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE” (WALPOLE)
Policy
Walpole ought never to be confused with Walpole, who was quite different; it was Walpole who lived in a house with the unusual name of Strawberry Jam and spent his time writing letters to famous men (such as the Prime Minister, Walpole, etc.). Walpole is memorable for inventing the new policy of letting dogs go to sleep. This was a Good Thing really, but it so enraged the people (who thought that a dog’s life should be more uncomfortable) that they rang all the bells in London. At first Walpole merely muttered his policy, but eventually he was compelled to rouse himself and become actively memorable by remarking: “They are ringing the bells now; I shall be wringing their necks soon.”