Hanover, his Majesty's happiness did no last long without alloy. "The fact was this: whilst the King was at Herenhausen, and Madame Walmoden at her lodgings in the palace at Hanover, one night the gardener found a ladder, which did not belong to the garden, set up against Madame W.'s window; and concluding it was a design to rob her, this poor innocent, careful servant made diligent search in the garden, and found & man lurking behind the espalin, whom he concluded to be the thief: accordingly, by the assistance of his fellow-servants, he seized and carried him to the captain of the guard then upon duty. When the prisoner was brought to the light, it proved to be one Monsieur Schulemberg, an officer in the Imperial service: he complaining to the captain of the guard of this violence, who thinking nothing but a design of robbery could be at the bottom of the affair, and that a man of that rank could certainly be no robber, ordered him to be released. "This affair made a great noise immediately, and Madame Walmoden thinking it would be for her advantage to tell the story herself first to the King, ordered her coach at six o'clock in the morning, drove to Herenhausen, and went directly to the King's bedside, threw herself on her knees, drowned in tears, and begged of his Majesty either to protect her from being insulted, or give her leave to retire. She said she doted on him as her lover and her friend, and never when she gave him her heart considered him as a King; but that she found too late, that no woman could live with a King as with a man of inferior rank." The King, surprised at the unexpected visit, upon learning what it meant, became exceedingly indignant--not towards Madame Walmoden, indeed, whom he seems never to have distrusted, but towards the captain of the guard, M. Schulemberg, and all others concerned in the affair. What strikes one as most odd in the whole matter, but to which one by degrees gets accustomed in reading of George Second's notions in regard to marital duties, is the account which he writes to the Queen of the whole affair, and the views he begs she will take of it. Speaking as if to a friend of his own sex, he asks her what she thinks of the business, adding, that perhaps his passion for Madame Malmoden might make him see it in a partial light, and desiring the Queen to "consulier le gros homme," (meaning Sir Robert,) “qui a plus d'expérience, ma chère Caroline, que vous dans ces affaires, et moins de préjugé que moi dans celle-ci." Perhaps there is nothing in all written biography to compare with the revelations which George II. was accustomed to make to his wife of the most minute details of his amours. Horace Walpole says in his reminiscences, that it was understood in the palace that the King always made the Queen the confidante of his flirtations, which made Mrs. Selwyn, mother of George Selwyn, and herself beautiful and of much vivacity, once tell him, that he should be the last man with whom she would have an intrigue, as she knew he would tell the Queen. Lord Campbell speaks of the same thing in his life of Lord Chancellor King, and gives a note of the Chancellor in corroboration of these incredible confessions. "On this occasion, he let me into several secrets relating to the King and Queen-that the King constantly wrote to her long letters, being generally of all his actions, what he did every day, even to minute things, and particularly of his amours, what women he admired, &c., &c.; and that the Queen, to continue him in a disposition to do what she desired, returned as long letters, and approved even of his amours; not scrupling to say that she was but one woman, and an old woman, &c., &c., by which perfect subserviency to his will, she effected whatever she desired, without which it was impossible to keep him in bounds." Lord Campbell has indeed added a very natural doubt, whether the whole of this strange story was not a fiction of Walpole's over his wine to mystify the Chancellor; but the concurrent and still more detailed evidence of Lord Hervey unfortunately puts these scandalous transactions beyond all doubt. In addition to this, the latter says that the Queen received one letter in which the King desired her to contrive, if she could, that the Prince of Modena, who was to come the latter end of the year to England, might bring his wife with him; and the reason he gave for it was, that he heard her highness was pretty free of her person, and that he had the greatest inclination imaginable to pay his addresses to a daughter of the late Regent of France, the Duke of Orleans,— un plaisir que je suis sûr, ma chère Caroline, vous serez bien aise de me procurer, quand je vous dis combien je le souhaite.” The King's continued stay in Hanover business of the crown, without the pres- "The tradesmen were all uneasy, as they thought the King's absence prevented people coming to town, and particularly for the birthday; the citizens made this preference he seemed to give to his German dominions a pre-inducing the Queen to invite her hustence to show their disaffection, but were before so thoroughly disaffected that it made no great addition to what they felt, though it opened the sluices of their clamorous mouths. The ordinary and the godly people took the turn of pitying the poor Queen, and railing at his Majesty for using so good a wife, who had brought him so many fine children, so abominably ill. Some of them, (and those who, if he had heard all this, would have fretted him most,) used to talk of his age, and say, for a man of his time of day to be playing these youthful pranks, and fancying himself in love, was quite ridiculous as well as inexcusable. Others, in very coarse terms, would ask, if he must have a mistress, whether England could never furnish a one good enough to serve his turn, and if he thought Parliament had given him a civil-list greater than his predecessors only to defray the extraordinary travelling charges, or to enrich his German favorites." Pasquinades at last became abundant upon the delicate subject, and squibs, practical jokes and satires kept the town. full of amusement. One of them an old, lean, lame and blind horse, with saddle and pillion-bore this inscription: "The King of Hanover's equipage! Let nobody stop me! I am going to fetch his Majesty and his to England!" At the Royal Exchange the following placard was posted:-" It is reported that his Hanoverian Majesty designs to visit his British Dominions for three months in the spring." On St. James' gate this advertisement was posted:-"Lost or strayed out of this house, a man who has left a wife and six children on the parish: whoever will give any tidings of him to the church-wardens of St. James' Parish, so as he may be got again, shall receive four shillings and sixpence reward. N. B.-This reward will not be increased, nobody judging him to be worthy of a crown.” Sir Robert Walpole found it at last all but impossible to transact the ordinary band to bring his mistress to England, a proposition which, however shocking in its moral and social bearings, cannot fail to excite our admiration at its finesse and boldness. The Queen, staggered at first by the outrageous impudence of the proposal, at length consented to discharge her part of the business, and accordingly wrote to the King signifying her desires in the matter. She adds, that she has had the apartments of Lady Suffolk enlarged, refurnished and prepared for the proper reception of his friend. The King answers-and, as Mr. Croker says, it is impossible not to wonder at the modesty and even elegance of the expressions, and the indecency and profligacy of the sentiments they convey: "This letter wanted no marks of kindness but those that men express to women they love; had it been to a nian, nothing could have been added to strengthen its tenderness, friend- him to be just in his nature, and how much he Madame Walmoden, however, did not return with the King, nor did she appear in England until after the Queen's decease. Perhaps the most interesting, certainly the most minute and copious details in the two volumes of the Memoirs, refer to this event, completing, as it did, the history of Lord Hervey's court life. We have not space to make the extracts from this narrative which would do it justice. It is sufficient to say that the Queen died as she had lived, self-possessed, calm, and affectionate to those around her, but at the same time a practical skeptic in all religious faith, unforgiving towards her enemies, bitter in every feeling towards her oldest son, the Prince of Wales, and either blind to folly or weak to wickedness towards the faults of her husband. She refused to see the Prince during her whole sickness, and though frequently spoken to in regard to his desire to approach her, she constantly and unhesitatingly denied him the entrée of her chamber. Hence is seen very clearly the satire of Pope's last tribute to her memory: gating many passages of the play which could not fail to have interested us, much of which barbarous work has been done. indeed by later managers - Vandals of history-into whose hands it had fallen, there is still not a little left, teaching us, as we remember how entirely the strifes, the labors, the jealousies, the ambitions, the greatness and the glory of that age have faded and gone, in language more emphatic than the preacher's "What shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue." The page of history has long since recorded the character of George the Second. Lord Hervey's Memoirs of his Court will not alter that record. "He was next to George the Third in the strength of his purposes and the rectitude of his public character," is the remark of his recent British eulogist. He may have been so,— proximus sed longo intervallo—but he was none the less a churl and a tyrant. Managed from his accession to the crown until his death by the address of his wife and the duplicity of his ministers, so that the public measures should not destroy the general weal of his subjects, and bound by the laws of a limited monarchy the dan him in the expulsion of the ill-fated James, he was nevertheless in heart and soul no less a tyrant than Henry the Eighth—was the slave of his own vices; in his family a as much the subject of his own excesses, ruffian, in his cabinet a knave, in his bedchamber a profligate, and in his very gallantry-his joy and boast a boor. George II. in his private character stands second to no royal personage who has disgraced the crown of Great Britain. He had made the impress of his vices upon his heart long before his death, and that did not ef "Hang the sad verse on Carolina's urn, And hail her passage to the realms of rest, All parts perform'd, and all her children blest." We regard the publication of the Memoirs of Lord Hervey as a valuable, we might say with equal truth, as an invalua-ger of infracting which was ever before ble accession to English history. The extracts we have given are scarcely a sample of the character and value of the work. Especially in the portraits of the prominent men of that day, of which the volumes are full, do we regard it of unquestioned authority and unsurpassed excellence. The actors in the drama of life a hundred years ago again walk upon the stage, mingle in its scenes, contend in its strifes, and rejoice in the applause of the crowd, like those of to-day. Onslow and Jekyll, the Duke of Argyle and Horace Walpole the elder, Bishop Butler and the Earl of Chesterfield, starting from behind the curtain of the past, are again before us in all the freshness and vigor of daily life, and, for the first time, we feel that we know them as they really were. Omitting much that we desire to know, or, to continue our figure, expur face it. Peter Pindar would have said of "A change in George's life you must not hope: N. S. D. TWO LEAVES OF REVOLUTIONARY HISTORY. TAKEN DOWN FROM CONVERSATIONS WITH GOVERNOR SHELBY. No portion of the history of the revolutionary war is so rich in daring exploits of partisan warfare, or in bold personal adventure, as that of the Southern States. Prior to 1780 the British forces had overrun South Carolina, Georgia, and the eastern part of North Carolina. All the staunchest patriots were compelled to flee from their homes. Some of these refugees joined those enterprising and daring chieftains, Marion and Sumter, and carried on the war in the extreme South. Others fled for safety to the mountains of North Carolina and Virginia, and uniting their desperate fortunes to the native intrepidity of the hardy mountaineers, planned and executed continual exploits of aggressive warfare against the British and tories who were east of the mountains. The most important affair in all the partisan warfare of the Revolution, both as it regards the numbers engaged and its results, was the "Battle of King's Mountain." The officers and men engaged in this bold enterprise resided in the mountains of North Carolina and the southern part of Virginia, aided by several hundred refugees from South Carolina and the eastern part of North Carolina. They were not called into the field by the government or any board of war, nor by their admiration for any particular military commander. It was a spontaneous and masterly effort of the best energies of the patriots to strike a vigorous blow at a victorious enemy. Without commissaries, or staff officers, or efficient military organization; and destitute of provisions and military stores; and without the expectation of pay for their services, they assembled in the mountains, each man carrying whatever provisions he could on horseback, to attack one of the most skilful and brave officers in the British service. VOL. II. NO. VI. NEW SERIES. 38 Of those who participated in this memorable achievement, no one took a more prominent or active part than Col. Isaac Shelby, who was then the county lieutenant commanding the militia in Sullivan county, North Carolina. Although others are entitled equally with himself to the credit of executing the plan which was adopted; yet was he the mainspring of the enterprise, and to him is justly due the merit of projecting the exploit which was so gloriously terminated, After the close of the revolutionary war, Col. Shelby removed to Kentucky, where he was twice elected governor. It was whilst residing in that State, that the writer knew him in his boyish days; yet is the impress of the old soldier stamped fixedly on his memory. With a stalwart frame, perhaps an inch less than six feet in height, somewhat inclined to corpulency; his thick suit of iron gray hair shortly cropped; narrow but highly arched head, with prominent perceptive developments, evincing sound practical sense, close penetration, great watchfulness, and unflinching resolution; with closely compressed lips, strongly marked features, and a long heavy eyebrow overhanging a piercing blue eye; when aroused and excited he looked as terrible as the thundercloud of his native mountains. Yet was there ever about him in private life, amidst his friends, a kindly voice, and ready smile which radiated over his countenance, like the rays of the evening's sun beaming on that same cloud when relieved of its fury. During the residence of Gov. Shelby in Kentucky, up to the time of his death, there existed an intimate friendship between him and the father of the writer, General Martin D. Hardin, late of Frankfort, Kentucky. And when Gov. Shelby was chief magistrate of Kentucky, he ap pointed M. D. Hardin his Secretary of State. Among the papers which fell into the hands of the writer, as the executor and eldest son of Gen. Hardin, were several sheets of paper in two parcels, in the handwriting of M. D. Hardin, which are headed as follows: "Notes of the affair at King's Mountain, taken from a conversation with Governor Shelby, 16th July, 1815." Notes of conversations with Governor Shelby, 20th September, 1819." These papers contain an account of the battle at King's Mountain, and of the battle at Musgrove's Mill which preceded it. They have been carefully preserved for more than twenty years, and as they embody minute and interesting details not stated in any history, it seems to be a duty not to permit them to sleep longer in oblivion. Now that all who participated in these scenes have left the stage of action and live only in the memory of their glorious achievements, no offence can be taken at any statement contained in these notes. It is the duty of a nation to preserve every authentic memorial of the honorable exploits of her sons. These leaves of history may be of service to some future historian. In re-writing these notes, the writer has confined himself to stating in narrative form the facts set forth in the notes, and has forborne from collating other facts connected with this subject mentioned in different histories, preferring to keep within the bounds of strict authenticity, to deviating in search of extrinsic information to garnish the narration. Inclosed in "the notes," was a letter from Gov. Shelby to M. D. Hardin on the subject of these conversations. No better evidence of Gov. Shelby's honest truthfulness of purpose, and anxious desire to do strict justice to all, could be given, than is contained in this letter. A copy of it is therefore prefixed to the notes. JOHN J. HARDIN. Jacksonville, Ill., March 6, 1846. BATTLE OF MUSGROVE'S MILL. In August, 1780, General John McDowell, of North Carolina, commanded about two thousand militia who were stationed at Smith's ford, on Broad river, which was about fifteen miles below the Cherokee ford. Col. Isaac Shelby, of North Carolina, commanded a regiment under Gen. McDowell. The term of service for which the men had enlisted was just about expiring. It was ascertained that there were about seven hundred Tories camped at Musgrove's Mill, on the Eronee river, a few miles distant from the camp of Major Ferguson. Col. Shelby conceived the plan of breaking up this camp and routing the tories. For this purpose, having obtained leave from Gen. McDowell, he raised about seven hundred volunteers from the army without regard to rank, very many field officers having volunteered. Col. Clarke, of North Carolina, was made second in command. To effect their design it was necessary that the affair should be conducted with both secresy and dispatch. Accordingly Shelby's force left Gen. McDowell's camp on the 18th of August, a short time before dark, They travelled on through the woods until dark, and then fell into the road and proceeded on all night, passing within three or four miles of Ferguson's camp and going beyond it to the Tory camp at Musgrove's Mill. This post was forty miles from McDowell's camp. Soon after daylight, when Shelby had arrived within half a mile of the camp, a citizen was taken prisoner, from whom h |