Exactly a week after the Duke of Cumberland gained the victory, a _report_ to that effect reached London, but there was no news from the duke himself till the 25th. His business-like account of the battle appeared in the ‘London Gazette’ next day. In the interim the London Jacobites in their places of resort asserted loudly that the duke was in full retreat; and it was whispered that if he was _hopelessly_ beaten, the ‘Papists would rise all over the kingdom.’ But _now_ ‘hope’ herself was beaten out of the souls of Papists and Jacobites. The military in London were in a vein of swaggering delight. They talked of the young duke’s briefly heroic address to a cavalry regiment on the point of charging. He patted the nearest man to him on the back, and cried aloud, ‘One brush, my lads, for the honour of old Cobham!’ ◆[Sidenote: _NEWS OF CULLODEN._]◆ Then was curiosity stirred in London barracks as to which regiments were to get the prize for bravery, subscribed by the Corporation of London――namely 5,000_l._ The duke so wisely distributed it as to rebuke nobody. Veterans at Chelsea were looking at the vacant spaces where they should hang the captured flags, and were disappointed when they heard at the Horse Guards that the duke, considering that it was said how little honour was connected with such trophies, had sent the flags to Edinburgh to be burnt by the common hangman. The Chelsea veterans, however, envied the capturers of the (four) flags; for to each man the duke gave sixteen guineas. Medals and crosses were not yet thought of. His generosity was lauded as enthusiastically as his valour. While the Jacobites were overwhelming him with charges of cruelty and meanness, the friends of ‘the present happy establishment’ were circulating stories in and about London of his humanity and liberality. Soldiers of the young Chevalier’s army had wreaked their vengeance upon Mr. Rose, the minister at Nairn――on himself and his house. He was a Whig and anti-Romanist, who had favoured the escape of some prisoners taken by the Jacobite army. The Highlanders burnt his house, and, tying the minister up, they gave him 500 lashes. The duke, on hearing of this outrage, fell into uncontrollable fury, and swore he would avenge it. If there was some savagery at and after Culloden, no wonder! Such, at least, was the London feeling among the duke’s friends. But the feeling generally was one of ecstacy at the decisive victory. Lord Bury, who had arrived on the 25th with the news direct from the duke to the king, could hardly walk along the then terraced St. James’s Street for the congratulations of the crowd. Nobody thought such a halcyon messenger was too highly rewarded with a purse of a thousand guineas, and with being nominated own aide-de-camp to King George. [Sidenote: _A POPULAR HOLIDAY._]