NEW HOPES.
Andrew Lumisden, however, was not among the Jacobites who would venture to London on mere word of mouth permission. His sister encouraged him in this hesitation. In a letter from Castle Street, 1773, she alludes to the subject, and also to the new hopes that fluttered the bosoms of her Jacobite friends, and which were raised on the marriage, in the preceding year, of Charles Edward with the Princess Louise of Stolberg:—‘I have not yet heard of your letter of liberty. Col. Masterton says it is lying in Lord North’s office, and he is sure you will be safe to come here. But I say we must have better security than that. Whatever I learn, you shall know without loss of time.... When will you write me of a pregnancy? On that I depend. It is my last stake.... As my good Lady Clackmannan says: “O, my dear, send me something to raise my spirits in these bad times!” Remember me to the good Principle Gordon, and all our honest’ (that is, Jacobite) ‘friends.’
STRANGE AT ST. JAMES’S.
Five years more elapsed before the ultra-Jacobite Andrew Lumisden was seen traversing Leicester Fields, a free man, in safety. He owed his freedom, it is said, to the zeal and judgment shown by him in executing a commission (entrusted to him by Lord Hillsborough) to purchase for George III. some rare books at a great sale in Paris. Strange himself had become a great master of his art, the glory of the English school of engravers. There was still some distance kept between Robin and the Court of St, James’s. He had declined to engrave a portrait of George II., and also one of George III., by Ramsay. His reason was not ill-founded, namely, that no engraving could be creditably executed where the original painting was very defective. Be this as it may, the old Jacobite effected a reconciliation by engraving West’s picture of the apotheosis of the young princes—Octavius and Alfred. Strange’s untameable Jacobite wife, who had never spoken of George III. but as ‘Elector of Hanover’ or ‘Duke of Brunswick,’ now awarded him and his queen their full title, in a letter addressed to her son Robert, in January, 1787, written in Strange’s new London residence, ‘the Golden Head, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden,’ and containing an account of the honours heaped on her husband, in recognition of his last labours. ‘Your dear father has been employed in engraving a most beautiful picture painted by Mr. West, which he liked so much that he was desirous to make a print from it. THE JACOBITE KNIGHTED. The picture was painted for his Majesty; it represented two of the royal children who died. The composition is an angel in the clouds, the first child sitting by the angel; and the other, a most sweet youth, looking up. There are two cherubs in the top, and a view of Windsor at the bottom. This piece was lately finished, and Friday, the 5th currt., was appointed for your father’s presenting some proofs of it to his Majesty. He went with them to the Queen’s house and had a most gracious reception. His Majesty was very much pleased. After saying many most flattering things, he said, “Mr. Strange, I have another favour to ask of you.” Your father was attentive, and his Majesty—“It is that you attend the levee on Wednesday or Friday, that I may confer on you the honour of knighthood.” His Majesty left the room, but, coming quickly back, said, “I am going immediately to St. James’s; if you’ll follow me I’ll do it now; the sooner the better.” So, calling one of the pages, gave him orders to conduct Mr. Strange to St. James’s, where, kneeling down, he rose up Sir Robert Strange! This honour to our family is, I hope, a very good omen. I hope it will be a spur to our children, and show them to what virtue and industry may bring them. My dear Bob, I hope you will equally share in our virtues as you do in our honours: honours and virtue ought never to part. Few families have ever had a more sure or creditable foundation than ours. May laurels flourish on all your brows!’
SIR ROBERT AND LADY STRANGE.
It is a custom to speak in the present day of law and justice being a mere farce, and of a rogue having a better chance than his victim, before a full bench of judges splitting hairs and disagreeing in the interpretation and application of the law. But the ‘handy dandy’ of law and justice was as confusing in the London of the Jacobite times. Cameron, young Matthews the printer, the thoughtless youths who were ‘captains’ in the Manchester regiment, were harmless in what they did, compared with Strange, the young Chevalier’s life-guardsman, and forger of flash notes; but they were hanged and Robin was knighted! Of course, Strange was not knighted for his Jacobite doings, but for his distinction as an artist. One may at least be sorry that the other Jacobites were strangled at Tyburn and on Kennington Common.
Sir Robert was grateful. In future royal dedications the ex-Jacobite spoke of the king’s mother as ‘that august princess.’ George, the king, was ‘the auspicious patron of art.’ Sir Robert ‘presumed to flatter himself’ that he might ‘humbly lay his work at his Majesty’s feet;’ that ‘millions prayed for him,’—the ‘Arbiter of Taste and the beloved Father of his people.’ And ‘the king over the Water’ was still (though scarcely) alive. Robin survived Charles Edward, and died in 1791. His widow lived till 1806. With full recognition of the ‘happy establishment,’ Lady Strange never doubted the superior rights of the Stuarts, and was angry and outspoken when such rights were, in any sense, questioned. At one of her gatherings in Henrietta Street, one of her guests happened to refer to Charles Edward as the ‘Pretender.’ This stirred the old lady’s Jacobite blood, and with a license not uncommon to aged Scottish ladies of the time, in moments of excitement, she thundered out, ‘Pretender! and be damned to you! Pretender, indeed!’—Flora Macdonald did not swear at such provocation, but it once brought her fist in ringing acquaintance with the offender’s ears.
DEATH OF CHARLES EDWARD.
In the year 1788 the poor prince, to designate whom as a ‘Pretender’ was so offensive to all Jacobites, died in Rome, on the night of a terrible anniversary for the Stuart family, the 30th of January. In all the London periodicals he was treated with courtesy, but his death moved London society much less than that of ‘Athenian Stuart,’ whose decease left a void in scientific and social companies. The funeral ceremony is detailed in brief common-places. A very mild defender of the prince, ‘Anglicanus,’ in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ (Anno 1788, p. 509), adds to the confusion touching Charles Edward’s religion, by asserting that he was converted to Protestantism in Gray’s Inn Lane; and proving the assertion by asking, ‘Did he not read the Church of England prayers to his domestics when no clergyman was present?’
THE COUNTESS OF ALBANY, AT COURT.