There were noble men among these unfortunate Jacobites. The Earl of Derwentwater and his brother Charles Radcliffe; the three brothers, Lord Widdrington, with Charles and Peregrine Widdrington; old Edward Howard, brother of the Duke of Norfolk; even Alexander and William, sons of Sir Alexander Dalmahoy, were bound together. Two other brothers, John and James Paterson, of Preston Hall, were also in fond, but melancholy, companionship. William Shaftoe, of Bevington, had his son, John Shaftoe, at his side; two other Shaftoes, kinsmen of the former, and also father and son, rode near them. John Cotton, of Geding in Huntingdonshire, supported his father, Robert Geding. Two brothers Swinburne were among the prisoners, but not their father, Sir William. James Dalzell cheered the drooping spirits of his nephew, the Earl of Carnwath. Two Heskeths of Whitehill, Gabriel and Cuthbert, were pointed out by the soldiery as another father and son. In the same relationship were the two George Homes of Wedderburn; the George and Alexander Home of Whitfield; and George and John Winraham of Eymouth. William and George Maxwell were two brothers. Of cousins there were many. And among those of best blood not yet named were the Earls of Nithsdale and Winton, Viscount Kenmure, and Lord Nairn, with the Master of Nairn, his son. The flower of Northumberland chivalry, members of the old church, were there, Ordes, Forsters, Griersons, Riddells, Thorntons, Claverings, and Scotts. These, with commoner men, yet men in all essentials of manhood equal in quality, descended Highgate Hill amid crowds of spectators, who lined the roads from the hill to the Tower, the Fleet, Newgate, or the Marshalsea, into which prisons the noble herd was driven, according to their degree of nobility. ‘The crowd gave most remarkable demonstration of their abhorrence of this rebellion and of their loyalty to his Majesty,’ so says the ‘London Gazette;’ and no one expected it to say otherwise. [Sidenote: _ARRIVAL IN TOWN._] Even a Quaker could exult at the sight of the procession of captives. Gerard Penrice, a prisoner, gave the following instance in his so-called ‘Life of Charles Radcliffe’: ‘A Quaker fixed his eyes upon me, and distinguishing what I was, said, “Friend, verily thou hast been the Trumpeter of Rebellion to these men. Thou must answer for them.” Upon this a Grenadier gave him a push with the butt end of his musket, so that the Spirit fell into the ditch. While sprawling on his back, he told the soldier, “Thou hast not used me civilly. I doubt thou art not a real friend to King George.”’