Well, my dear child, all is safe!  I have not so much as an acquaintance hurt.  The more we hear the greater it turns out.  Lord Cholmondeley writes my lord from London that we gained the victory with only fifteen regiments, not eleven thousand men, and SO not half in number to the French.  I fancy their soldiery behaved ill, by the Gallantry of their officers; for Ranby, the King’S private surgeon, writes that he alone has 150 officers of distinction desperately wounded under his care.  Marquis Fenelon’s son is among the prisoners, and says Marshal Noailles is dangerously wounded; so is Duc d’Aremberg.  Honeywood’s regiment sustained the attack, and are almost all killed:  his natural son has five wounds, and cannot live.  The horse were pursuing when the letters came away, so there is no certain account of the slaughter.  Lord Albemarle had his horse shot under him.  In short, the victory is complete.  There is no describing what one hears of the spirits and bravery of our men.  One of them dressed himself up in the belts of three officers, and swore he would wear them as long as he lived.  Another ran up to Lord Carteret, who was in a coach near the action the whole time, and said, “Here, my lord, do hold this watch for me; I have just killed a French officer and taken it, and I will go take another.”

Adieu! my dear Sir:  May the rest of the war be as glorious as the beginning!

(833) The Bavarians.

(834) Frederick the Great, in his “Histoire de mon Temps,” gives the Following account of George the Second at the battle of Dettingen.  “The King was on horseback, and rode forward to reconnoitre the enemy:  his horse, frightened at the cannonading, ran away with his Majesty, and nearly carried him into the midst of the French lines:  fortunately, one of his attendants succeeded in stopping him.  George then abandoned his horse, and fought on foot, at the head of his Hanoverian battalions.  With his sword drawn, and his body placed in the attitude of a fencing-master, who is about to make a lunge in carte, he continued to expose himself, without Circling, to the enemy’s fire."-D.

To Mr. Chute.

My dear Sir, I wish you joy, and you wish me joy, and Mr. Whithed, and Mr. Mann, and Mrs. Bosville, etc.  Don’t get drunk and get the gout.  I expect to be drunk with hogsheads of the Mayne-water, and with odes to his Majesty and the Duke, and Te Deums.  Patapan begs you will get him a dispensation from Rome to go and hear the thanksgiving at St. Paul’s.  We are all mad-drums, trumpets, bumpers, bonfires!  The mob are wild, and cry, “Long live King George and the Duke of Cumberland, and Lord Stair and Lord Carteret, and General Clayton that’s dead!” My Lord Lovel says, “Thanks to the gods that John(835) has done his duty!”

Adieu! my dear Dukes of Marlborough!  I am ever your
JOHN DUKE OF MARLBOROUGh.

(835) John Bull.-D.

331 Letter 112
To Sir Horace Mann. 
Houghton, July 4, 1743.