What may not then our Isle presume,
While victory his crest does plume?
What may not others fear,
If thus he crowns each year?
Andrew Marvell - Ode on Cromwell,
I. - Annus Mirabilis
'Our bells are worn threadbare with ringing for victories,' wrote Walpole of that year of marvels, 1759: 'les Francois malheureux dans les quatre parties du monde,' was the title of a chapter in Voltaire's 'Siecle de Louis XV': while Garrick sang in his 'Hearts of Oak':
Come, cheer up my lads! 'tis to glory we steer,
To add something more to this wonderful year;
and two gentle old ladies, living at Bath, recalled years afterwards to their friend Lord Chatham the excitement felt in the remotest corners of England 'when our fleets and armies conquered everywhere. We have a newspaper,' they wrote, 'that comes out of London that morning; when the boy blows his horn we are all expectation.'
The year opened with the announcement of Keppel's capture of Goree in the last days of 1758.
