One of the most cruel illustrations of the period has reference to the father of young Captain Deacon. The captain’s head was sent down to be ‘spiked’ at Manchester. The father, a nonjuring minister in the town, always avoided the spot. One day, he involuntarily came within view of what was to him a holy relic. He reverently raised his hat on passing it. For this testimony of respect and affection, he was charged with sedition, and was fined. Several of the so-called Jacobite captains and lieutenants who were subsequently tried, were allowed their lives (to be passed beyond the Atlantic) on condition of pleading guilty. Others who stood their trial, similarly escaped. Alexander Margrowther, a lieutenant, a well-dressed, active, joyous, hopeful fellow, protested that he did not join the army of Prince Charles Edward till after Lord Perth had three times threatened to lay waste his property and burn his house; and even then he was carried off against his will. Chief Justice Lee acknowledged that constraint had been put upon him, but that his remaining and fighting on the rebel side was voluntary. The verdict was ‘guilty,’ but execution did not follow. [Sidenote: _A MAD JACOBITE._] The brothers of Sir James Kinloch, Charles and Alexander, were equally fortunate. Mr. Justice Wright differed with his judicial brother on a point of law, and was of opinion that judgment should be arrested. This saved the dashing pair of brothers from the gallows. Bradshaw, who came up for trial, October 27th, appeared at the bar in a gay suit of green; he looked as confident as his suit looked gay. His presence and activity in the Pretender’s array at Manchester, Carlisle, and Culloden, were amply proved; but a plea of insanity was set up to excuse it. This amounted to little more than that he was a sleep-walker, was eccentric, had always been so, and that eccentricity was almost developed into madness at the death of his wife who was described as ‘a fine lady whom he had accompanied to all the gay places of diversion in London.’ He was certainly out of his senses when he left a flourishing business at Manchester, in order to wear a pair of epaulettes and a plaid scarf among the Jacobites. That he quitted Carlisle, instead of surrendering, and took his chance with the Scots, till the decisive day at Culloden, was held by the prosecuting lawyers as a proof that Bradshaw had his senses about him. His courage failed him when he was adjudged to be hanged on the 28th of November. Some of his friends among the London Jacobites tried, but in vain, to get him off. The Whig papers were quite scandalised that even certain ‘city ald――rm――n’ had petitioned for a pardon for this once defiant, insolent, and impetuous rebel. [Sidenote: _SIR JOHN WEDDERBURN._]