“My grandfather, Robbie Anderson, led the way for Prince Charlie at the Battle of Preston Pans and I’ll be proud to lead ye now,” he said. A scarcely suppressed cheer broke forth as the wreath was placed on the gates, in which those of us who claimed a touch of the old Scotch Cavalier blood joined. A card was attached, and by general request the descendant of Robbie Anderson read it aloud. I afterwards copied it:
“In memory of Mary, Queen of Great Britain, France and Scotland. Presented by the Legitimist (Jacobite) League. February 8th, 1892.”
Then as the inspectors from Scotland Yard drew nearer, a red-faced verger bustled through the crowd up to the gates and pointing to the wreath exclaimed, “Take that thing down!” This gave rise to murmurs of remonstrance and indignation and the Marquis de Ruvigny spoke for all:
“I decline,” said the Marquis, “to touch that wreath. Take it down yourself.” But this the verger had no orders to do, and retreated in discomfiture. Then it was proposed to hold a meeting in Deans’ Yard to protest, but Mr. Stuart Mellor very sensibly observed that it would do no good to be arrested for brawling, and that public opinion would know what to think. And as most of the Jacobites present were Catholics this exclamation of one of them was to the point and caused a quick clearance:
“I say, if we don’t look sharp, we shall be in a Protestant place of wash-up at time of service.” And so the crowd faded gradually away, and what but for the tact of the leaders might have turned into a “demonstration” in the Abbey, was safely over. But the moral effect of the gathering and the severe measures used by the authorities has not yet died away, and many Englishmen who cared little for the Stuarts have joined the Order or the League as protest against this act of the government. The Dean, I believe, refers the matter to the Bishop of London, and he mentions the Ecclesiastical Commissioners more or less vaguely. It is difficult, therefore, to fit the blame. But there is no doubt that this incident has given renewed force to the Jacobite cause. Their Parliamentary candidates are busy, and the coming general election will afford a practical test of their strength with the common people. There is no doubt that in Ireland they could secure many seats if they tried, for the Irishmen of the south still remember the Battle of the Boyne.
Sensible people all around regret the blunder of the government, and as usual H. R. H., the Prince of Wales, voiced the universal sentiment when he declared the suppression of the pilgrimage a shame.
“Why,” said he, “I would have gone with them myself, and would have worn a white rose, too, if they had asked me.”
And no doubt if the Canon-in-residence, or the Dean of Westminster, or the Bishop of London, or the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, or whoever was responsible, had acted in this sensible, unprejudiced way, the incident would have closed and people would have smiled at the archæological enthusiasm of the Jacobites, instead of thinking them hardly used, and, ergo, sympathizing with them.
