4
nature followed. The song succeeded the toast and James Dawson sang the following, which seemed to he the composition of the day:—
“ Free o’er the borders, the tartan is streaming; The dirk is unsheathed, and the claymore is gleaming, The prince and his clansmen in triumph advance, Nor needs he the long-promised succours from France. From the Cumberland mountains, and Westmoreland lake, Each brave man shall snatch up his sword for his sake , And the Lancashire Witch on her bosom shall wear The snow-white cockade, by her lover placed there.”
But while he yet sang, and as he completed but the first verse, two constables and three soldiers burst into the room, and denounced them as traitors and as their prisoners.
“Down with them!” exclaimed James Dawson springing forward, and snatching down a sword which was hanging over the fire-place. The students vigorously resisted the attempt to make them prisoners, and several of them, with James escaped.
He concealed himself for a short time, when, his horse being brought, he took the road toward Manchester, in order to join the Pretender. I. was about midnight, on the 29th, when he reached the town which is now the emporium of the manu- facturing world. On proceeding down Market street, he perceived a confused crowd, some utter ing threats, and others with consternation expressed on their countenances ; and, in the midst of the multitude, was Sergeant Dickson,a young woman and a drummer boy, beating up for recruits. The white cockade streaming from the hat of the ser geant; the people vented their indignation against him, but no man durst seize him, for he turned round and round, with a blunderbuss in his hand facing the crowd on all sides, and threatening to
