There are other memoranda for letters, supposed to refer to the above visit. For example:—‘Parted, ye 2nd Sept. Arrived to A, ye 6th, parted from thence, ye 12th Sept. E, ye 14th, and at L, ye 16th. Parted from L, ye 22nd, and arrived at P. ye 24th. From P, parted ye 28th, arrived here ye 30th Sept.’ In this memorandum the initials are supposed to stand for Antwerp, England, London, and Paris. There is nothing to prove that they do; and, it may be said that A and L quite as aptly represent Avignon and Liége. However this may be, dates and supposed places are entirely at variance from other dates and places which are taken as referring to this identical visit of the young Chevalier to London, in 1750. ‘Ye 5th Sept. O.S. 1750, arrived; ye 11th parted to D, ye 12th in the morning parted and arrived at B, and ye 13th at P. R. S. ye 16th Sept. ye 22nd, 23rd, and 24th.’ Here, D and B are interpreted as signifying Dover and Boulogne, P. is Paris. R. S. have received no interpretation. It is certain that one of the two records must be incorrect; and both of them may be.
CHARLES EDWARD’S STATEMENT.
But, something more definite is reached in a despatch from the British Minister at Florence (Mann), which Lord Stanhope published in his ‘Decline of the Stuarts.’ The minister, who writes in 1783, describes a conversation which took place at Florence, between Charles Edward (then known as Count d’Albany) and Gustavus, King of Sweden, in the course of which the count told the king that, in September, 1750, he arrived secretly in London with a Colonel Brett; that together they examined the outer parts of the Tower, and came to the conclusion that one of the gates might be blown in by a petard. After which, at a lodging in Pall Mall, where fifty Jacobites were assembled, including the Duke of Beaufort and the Earl of Westmoreland, the prince said to these Jacobites, or rather to Gustavus, that if they could have assembled only 4,000 men, he would have publicly put himself at their head. He added that he stayed a fortnight in London, and that the Government were ignorant of his presence there.
It is to be remembered that this story was told three and thirty years after the alleged occurrence. The narrator was then an aged man, whose brains and memory and general health were so damaged by ‘the drink, the drink, dear Hamlet!’ that not the slightest trust could be placed in any single word that he uttered in respect to his past history. He may have dreamed it all, but that any two gentlemen, the face of one of whom was familiar, from prints and busts publicly sold, could have so carefully examined the Tower as to find out where it was vulnerable, without the sentinels having discovered the same part in the explorers, is surely incredible. The vaunt of the secret visitor publicly placing himself at the head of an army of Jacobites, was just such a boast as the brainless drunkard of 1783 would be likely to make. There is as little reliance to be put on the statement of the Duke of Beaufort and Earl of Westmoreland being present at a Jacobite meeting in Pall Mall. The really Jacobite duke died in 1746. His successor, and also the Earl of Westmoreland (of the year 1750), may have been often in opposition to the Government, but no act of their lives would warrant the belief that they could be insane enough to attend a meeting of half a hundred Jacobites in Pall Mall, to listen to a project for blowing up the Tower and pulling down the throne.
THE VISIT IN 1752-3.
Two years after 1750, however, according to the MS. Journal of Lord Elcho, Charles Edward was again in London, secretly at the house of the very outspoken Jacobite lady, Lady Primrose. Hume, the historian, says, in a letter to Sir John Pringle (dated 1773), that he knew with the greatest certainty that Charles Edward was in London in 1753; his authority was Lord Marischal, ‘who said it consisted with his certain knowledge.’ The knowledge was derived from a lady—whom my Lord refused to name, and whom Hume imagined to be Lady Primrose. Now, Lady Primrose was the Protestant daughter of the Dean of Armagh, of Huguenot descent, bearing the name of Drelincourt. She was the widow of Viscount Primrose who had been an officer of distinction in the king’s service. Lady Primrose, herself, was a warm-hearted Jacobite who had given a temporary home in Essex Street, Strand, to Flora Macdonald, during part of her brief sojourn in London in 1747. According to this legendary visit of 1753, Charles Edward, unexpectedly, entered her room, when she was entertaining a company at cards. He was there unannounced, yet Lady Primrose called him by a name he assumed! Her object was to keep him undetected by her friends; but his portrait hung in the room, and the company identified the visitor. Lord Marischal told Hume (he thinks, ‘from the authority of the same lady,’ whom Lord Marischal had refused to name), that the Prince went about the streets and parks, with no other disguise than not wearing ‘his blue ribband and star.’ Some years after, Hume spoke of this visit, to Lord Holdernesse (who in 1753 was Secretary of State). This minister stated that he received the first intelligence of Charles Edward’s presence in London from George II.; who may have been misinformed, and who is reported to have said, ‘When he is tired of England, he will go abroad again!’ A very unlikely remark. Another story resembled that of the Lincoln’s Inn Fields’ chairmen, namely, that in 1753, Lord Elibank, his brother Alexander Murray, and five dozen associates, were to be employed in carrying off this very good-natured monarch!
CREDIBILITY OF THE STORIES.
As to the credibility of this story, it is only necessary to remark that, in 1753, Dr. Archibald Cameron was hanged in London for being present in Scotland, where mischief was intended; and that, if the Ministry were so well served by their spies, such as Sam Cameron was, through whom the Doctor was arrested and executed, Charles Edward could not possibly have escaped; and his capture was of great importance at the moment. Moreover, the king was powerless. It belonged to the Administration to decide whether the undisguised Prince should be captured or allowed to go free.
CONFLICTING STATEMENTS.
Assuming that he was so allowed, he is again found in London in 1754. At least, crazy Thicknesse says: ‘that this unfortunate man was in London, about the year 1754, I can positively assert. He was “at a lady’s house, in Essex Street;” was recognised in the Park, by a Jacobite gentleman who attempted to kneel to him, and this so alarmed the lady in Essex Street, that a boat was procured the same night, in which he was forthwith despatched to France. Tonnage of boat and captain’s name not registered.