they seem to have been, appear to have viewed his ability as cynically as it was viewed in England. "We hear," Horace Walpole writes, "that the French have recalled their green troops, which had advanced for show, and have sent their oldest regiments against the Duke." Twelve days later, he says: "This is not the sole uneasiness at Kensington; they know the proximity of the French to the Duke, and think that by this time there may have been an action: the suspense is not pleasant." Five weeks later came the news, "We are in a piteous way! The French have passed the Weser, and a courier brought word yesterday that the Duke was marching towards them; and within five miles: by this time his fate is decided." A few days more, and tidings came that "the French attacked the Duke for three days together, and at last defeated him: I find it is called at Kensington an encounter of fourteen squadrons." It took place at Hastenbeck near Hameln, on the Weser, the scene of the Pied Piper's exploit. Whether an encounter or a battle, it was fatal to the reputation of the Duke, and the English officers he had with him; and it was fatal to Hanover, which from first to last paid more than two millions sterling to the victors. Above all, it was fatal to William Herschel's soldiering; for years also it was fatal to his prospects in life, and to his peace of mind as well as his sister's; but, at last, it was the beginning of his endless fame. We can almost sympathise with a deserter from such a general, especially when he fled to his own King for protection, not to the enemies of his country.
An anxious and far from sensible mother took steps to save her delicate son. The French were
