Disaffection spread everywhere, and recruiting for James went on even among the King’s guards. In many quarters there was something like a panic, but the King went about as usual, indifferent to danger. England, he frankly owned, had disappointed him, and perhaps he did not greatly care whether he was sent back to Hanover or not. So things continued through the summer and autumn, until in November they came to a crisis, and mounted messengers galloped south with the news that James’s standard had been unfurled in the Highlands. FOOTNOTES TO BOOK II, CHAPTER III: [58] _La Correspondance Secrète du Comte Broglie._ [59] Lady Mary Wortley Montagu’s Letters and Works, edited by Lord Wharnecliff. [60] Lady Mary Wortley Montagu’s Letters and Works, edited by Lord Wharnecliff. CHAPTER IV. THE WHITE ROSE. 1715–1716. James Francis Edward Stuart, known to the Jacobites as King James the Third of England and Ireland and the Eighth of Scotland, to the Tories as the Chevalier de St. George (a title he had himself assumed when Anne was living), and to the Whigs as the “Old Pretender,” was now twenty-seven years of age, having been born in June, 1688, at St. James’s Palace. The birth of this son, so long desired, was the immediate cause of his father’s ruin. James the Second was well advanced in years, and no children had been born to him by his second wife, Mary of Modena, except such as had died in infancy. His persecuting zeal in favour of Roman Catholicism had given great offence to his subjects, even to those who were most loyal to his throne and person, but they had made up their minds to bear with him, in the confident hope that, when he died, his crown would devolve on his daughter Mary, wife of William of Orange, and then on his daughter Anne, both of whom were devoted members of the Church of England. These hopes were ruined by the birth of this son, who would be educated in his father’s faith, and brought up under the narrow and tyrannical influences which already menaced the laws and liberties of the realm. It was this feeling of bitter disappointment which led to the absurd legend that the King and Queen had leagued with the Jesuits to impose a supposititious child upon the nation, and so ensure the maintenance of the Roman Catholic faith. It was gravely stated, and even credited, by many who should have known better, that the infant Prince had been introduced into the royal bedchamber in a warming-pan; and for nearly a century later little tin warming-pans were sometimes worn by the Whigs in their buttonholes to show their contempt for Jacobite pretensions. More care should have been taken by the King to secure the attendance of the great officers of state at the birth of the Prince, but there was abundant evidence to prove that the child was really and truly the King’s son. The young Prince’s sojourn in the land of his birth was of brief duration, for, a few months after he was born, the greater part