London in the Jacobite times, Volume II

by Dr. Doran

ON HOUNSLOW HEATH.

The ‘Gentlemen of the Road,’ loyal robbers as they were, were despatched at Tyburn, in spite of their Hanoverian principles. Those principles were manifested by a couple of highwaymen who stopped a carriage on Hounslow Heath, the inmates of which, four young children and two ladies, were on the way from Epsom to Cliefden. The highwaymen were informed that the children were Prince George, Princess Augusta, and a younger prince and princess. The Whig highwaymen hoped God would bless them all, and they rode off towards another carriage coming up at a little distance. This carriage was filled with nurses and servants of the royal children; and the robbers stripped them of every article of value which they carried with them. The singularity of this illustration of the times consists in this,—that at a period when robbers abounded, and that more highwaymen were to be found on Hounslow Heath than elsewhere, the young members of the royal family were sent across that dangerous heath without any protecting escort.

At the court of the Prince of Wales in London, an incident, not without a certain significance, occurred. The Marquis of Caernarvon presented Mr. Chandler, ‘the bookseller, outside Temple Bar,’ to the prince. The worthy bookseller handed to the Heir Apparent three volumes of what may be almost called ‘forbidden fruit,’ namely ‘Reports of Parliamentary Debates, from the accession of George I.,’—an instalment of a great collection to be afterwards completed. They were dedicated to the prince by his permission,—a condescension which, no doubt, was suspected of being tainted by Jacobitism. An incident of another description may have gratified a rancorous Jacobite or two. The Jenny Diver who, in her youth, had nearly stolen Atterbury’s ring from his finger, as she kissed his hand, came now, in maturer years, to the end of her career at Tyburn. With nineteen others of both sexes, she journeyed to the gallows. The nineteen were divided into half a dozen carts, but Hanoverian Jenny went in a mourning coach accompanied by a chaplain, and escorted by four soldiers of the footguards. An hour later, a ghastly equality shrouded the whole of the strangled score.

TORIES NOT JACOBITES.

Although men’s minds were chiefly occupied in 1742 with the withdrawal of Walpole from office and public life, and the Chevalier and his projects seemed well-nigh forgotten, these projects were kept in view by public men. Pulteney said in the House that he had himself told the king, the Tories were not universally Jacobites, but that, treating them as if they were, would certainly make them so. Aye, rejoined Sir Everard Digby, just as in Charles I.’s time, the advisers of arbitrary measures against the Puritans only increased the numbers of those people. Fear of the designs of the Jacobite faction led to an application to the Commons for a money grant in aid of the bringing over certain bodies of troops in Ireland, to England. It was in the course of this debate that Winnington described the exact position of Jacobites and Jacobitism, at the moment he was speaking:—

CONDITION OF PARTIES.

‘There are still many gentlemen of figure and fortune among us who openly profess their attachment to the Pretender. There is a sort of enthusiastic spirit of disaffection that still prevails among the vulgar; and there is too great a number of men of all ranks and conditions who now seem to be true friends to the Protestant Succession who would declare themselves otherwise, if they thought they could do so without running any great or unequal risk. These considerations shall always make me jealous of the Jacobite party’s getting any opportunity to rebel, and this they have always thought they had, and always will think they have, when they see the nation destitute of troops, for which reason, I shall always be for keeping in the island such a number of regular troops as may be sufficient for awing them into obedience.... The danger of an invasion from abroad, with the Pretender at the head of it, is equally to be apprehended.’ Alluding to Spain with whom we were at war, Mr. Winnington said: ‘She will use every art that can be thought of for throwing into this island 8 or 10,000 men of her best troops, with the Pretender and some of his adherents at their head.’ Mr. Carew believed that there were very few men in England who would join the Pretender, if he invaded it, and that in such case he would speedily be overwhelmed. The motion was, however, successful by 280 to 269.

IN LEICESTER FIELDS.

The popularity of the Prince of Wales was manifested in a singular way this year. It was known that he was about to take up his residence in Leicester Fields. The place was in some degree beautified for the occasion, and the grass in the centre was enclosed by a neat wooden railing. On the first night of the arrival of the Prince and his family, the congratulating mob pulled down the rails, piled them up in front of Leicester House, and kindled a bonfire which nearly ignited the doors of the mansion. The Prince, however, sent out his thanks to the mob for their civility, and he promised to adorn the enclosure with a statue of the king his father—a promise which he failed to keep, and probably never meant to do so. A statue of George I., brought from Canons, the seat of the Duke of Chandos, was put up there in 1748.

The new sect of Methodists was now creating suspicion. Some friends of the Happy Establishment looked upon them with even more aversion than they bestowed on the Jacobites. At the execution of two criminals, the Prince of Wales sent one of his chaplains (Mr. Howard) to afford them spiritual comfort. But, they were also attended by a Mr. Simms, who, says the ‘Whitehall Evening Post,’ ‘was formerly a butcher, but lately a strict follower of the modern Methodists.’ The orthodox ‘Post’ adds:—‘By the Influence of whose Doctrine these hardened Wretches were brought to Penitence, we need not point out to our Readers.’