MICHAEL FEYDY—THE SHAM CLAUDE DE VERRE.

At the beginning of the seventeenth century, a French gentleman, named Guy de Verre, lived with his wife and two sons at Saumur. Claude, the elder of these children, who had a peculiar scar on his brow (which had been left by a burn), at an early age expressed a strong desire to become a soldier, and his father accordingly procured an ensigncy for him in the regiment of Clanleu. In 1638 Claude de Verre left the paternal mansion to join his regiment; and from that date till 1651 nothing was heard of him. In the latter year, however, one of the officers of a regiment which had been ordered to Saumur presented himself at the chateau of Chauvigny, which was occupied by Madame de Verre, now a widow; and no sooner had he appeared than Jacques, the second son, observed his perfect resemblance to his missing brother. He communicated his suspicions to his mother, who was overwhelmed with delight, and without consulting more than her emotions, addressed the stranger as her son. At first the officer feebly protested that he did not enjoy that relationship, but, seeing the lady's anxiety, he at last admitted that he was Claude de Verre, and that he had hesitated to declare himself at first until he had assured himself that his reception would be cordial after his eighteen years of absence. He had no reason to doubt the maternal love and forgiveness. From the first moment of his discovery he was acknowledged as the heir, and the happy mother celebrated his return by great rejoicings, to which all her friends and relatives were invited. He was presented to the members of the family, and they recognised him readily; although they did not fail to notice certain distinctions of feature and manner between him and the Claude de Verre who had gone to join the regiment of Clanleu. Still, as he answered all the questions which were put to him promptly and correctly, and as he sustained the character of the lost son perfectly, it was easy to suppose that absence and increasing age had effected a slight change in him, and he was received everywhere with marked demonstrations of friendship. M. de Piedselon, a brother of Madame de Verre, alone denounced him as an impostor; but his words were unheeded, and the new comer continued to possess the confidence of the other relatives, and of the widow and her second son, with whom he continued to reside for some time.

At last the day came when he must rejoin his regiment, and his brother Jacques accompanied him into Normandy, where it was stationed, and where they made the acquaintance of an M. de Dauple, a gentleman who had a very pretty daughter. Claude de Verre soon fell over head and ears in love with this girl, who reciprocated his passion and married him. Before the ceremony a marriage-contract was signed, and this document, by a very peculiar clause, stipulated that, in the event of a separation, the bridegroom should pay a reasonable sum to Madlle de Dauple. Jacques de Verre signed this contract as the brother of the bridegroom, and it was duly registered by a notary. After their marriage the happy couple lived together until the drum and trumpet gave the signal for their separation, and Claude de Verre marched to the wars with his regiment.

But when released from service, instead of returning to pass the winter with his wife, he resorted once more to Chauvigny, to the house of Madame de Verre, and took his brother back. She was delighted to see him again, and on his part it was evident that he was resolved to make amends for his past neglect and his prolonged absence. Nevertheless, during his stay at the family mansion, he found time to indulge in a flirtation—if nothing worse—with a pretty girl named Anne Allard. Soon after his arrival intelligence reached Saumur of the death of the Madlle de Dauple whom Claude had married in Normandy—an occurrence which seemed to give him the utmost sorrow, but which did not prevent him from marrying Anne Allard within a very short time, his own feelings being ostensibly sacrificed to those of his mother, who was anxious that he should settle down at home. In this instance, also, a marriage-contract was entered into, and was signed by Madame de Verre and her son Jacques. Not content with this proof of affection, the mother of Claude, seeing her eldest son thus settled down beside her, executed a deed conveying to him all her property, reserving only an annuity for herself and the portion of the second son.

For some time Claude de Verre lived peacefully and happily with Anne Allard, rejoicing in the possession of an affectionate wife, managing his property carefully, and even adding to the attractiveness and value of the family estate of Chauvigny. Two children were born of the marriage, and nothing seemed wanting to his prosperity, when suddenly a soldier of the French Gardes presented himself at Chauvigny. This man also claimed to be the eldest son of Madame de Verre, and gave a circumstantial account of his history from the time of his disappearance in 1638 to the period of his return. Among other adventures, he said that he had been made a prisoner at the siege of Valenciennes, that he had been exchanged, and that, while he was quartered in a town near Chauvigny, the news had reached him that an impostor was occupying his position. This intelligence determined him to return home at once, and, by declaring himself, to dissipate the illusion and put an end to the comedy which was being played at his expense.

The revelations of the soldier did not produce the result which he had anticipated; for, whether she was still persuaded that the husband of Anne Allard was the only and real Claude de Verre, or whether, while recognising her mistake, she preferred to leave matters as they were rather than promote a great family scandal and disturbance, Madame de Verre persisted that the new comer was not her son, for she had only two, and they were both living with her. Of course, the husband of Anne Allard had no hesitation in declaring the soldier an impostor, and Jacques de Verre united his voice to the others, and repudiated all claims to brotherhood on the part of the guardsman.

However, affairs were not allowed to remain in this position. The new arrival, rejected by those with whom he claimed the most intimate relationship, appealed to a magistrate at Saumur, and lodged a complaint against his mother because of her refusal to acknowledge him, and against the so-called Claude de Verre for usurping his title and position, in order to gain possession of the family property. When the matter was brought before him the magistrate ordered the soldier to be placed under arrest, and sent for Madame de Verre to give her version of the affair. The lady declined to have anything to do with the claimant, although she admitted that there were some circumstances which told in his favour. Her brother M. Piedselon, however, who had refused to recognise Anne Allard's husband in 1651, was still at Saumur, and he was confronted with the claimant. The recognition between the two men was mutual, and their answers to the same questions were identical. Moreover, the new comer had the scar on his brow, which was wanting on the person of the possessor of the estate. The other relatives followed the lead of M. Piedselon; and ultimately it was proved that the husband of Anne Allard was an impostor, and that his real name was Michael Feydy. Consequently, on the 21st of May 1657, the Criminal-Lieutenant of Saumur delivered sentence, declaring that the soldier of the Gardes was the true Claude de Verre, permitting him to take possession of the property of the deceased Guy de Verre, and condemning Michael Feydy to death.

The first part of this sentence was carried out. The new Claude took forcible possession of the mansion and estate of Chauvigny. But it was found that Michael Feydy had disappeared, leaving his wife full power to act for him in his absence. Anne Allard at once instituted a suit—not against the possessor of the estates, whom she persistently refused to acknowledge—but against Madame de Verre and her son Jacques, and petitioned that they might be compelled to put an end to the criminal prosecution which the soldier of the Gardes had instituted against her husband, to restore her to the possession and enjoyment of the mansion of Chauvigny, and the other property which belonged to her; and that, in the event of their failure to do so, they should be ordered to repay her all the expenses which she had incurred since her marriage; to grant her an annuity of two hundred livres per annum, according to the terms of her marriage-settlement; and further, to pay her 20,000 livres as damages.

At this stage another person appeared on the scene—none other than Madlle de Dauple, whom the sham Claude had married in Normandy, and whom he had reported as dead. She also had recourse to the legal tribunals, and demanded that Madame de Verre and her second son should pay her an annuity of 500 livres, and the arrears which were due to her since her abandonment by her husband, and 1500 livres for expenses incurred by Jacques Verre during his residence with her father and mother in Normandy. The children of Anne Allard, moreover, brought a suit to establish their own legitimacy.

The Avocat-General was of opinion that the marriage contract between Michael Feydy and Mademoiselle de Dauple should be declared void, because there was culpable carelessness on the father's part and on the girl's part alike. He thought the marriage of Michael Feydy and Anne Allard binding, because it had been contracted in good faith. Jacques de Verre he absolved from all blame, and was of opinion that since Madame de Verre had signed the marriage-contract it was only just to make her pay something towards the support of Anne Allard and her children. The Supreme Court did not altogether adopt these conclusions. By a decree of the 31st of June 1656, it dismissed the appeals of Anne Allard and of Madeline de Dauple. It declared the children of Michael Feydy and of Anne Allard legitimate, and adjudged to them and to their mother all the property acquired by their father, which had accrued to him by his division with Jacques de Verre, under the name of Claude de Verre, until the signature of the matrimonial agreement, and also the guarantee of the debts which Anne Allard had incurred conjointly with her husband. Madame de Verre was also condemned to pay 2000 livres to Anne Allard, under the contract which had been signed. Of Feydy himself nothing further is known.



THE BANBURY PEERAGE CASE.

Since the reign of Edward III. the family of Knollys has been distinguished in the annals of the kingdom. In those days Sir Robert Knollys, one of the companions of the Black Prince, not only proved himself a gallant soldier, but fought to such good purpose that he enriched himself with spoils, and was elevated to the distinction of the Blue Ribbon of the Garter. His heirs continued to enjoy the royal favour throughout successive reigns; and Sir Francis Knollys, one of his descendants, who likewise was a garter-knight in the earlier part of the sixteenth century, espoused Catherine Cary, a grand-daughter of the Earl of Wiltshire, and a grand-niece of Queen Anne Boleyn. Two sons were born of this marriage, and were named Henry and William respectively. Henry died before his father, and William, who was born in 1547, succeeded to the family honours in 1596. He had worn them for seven years, when King James created him Baron Knollys of Grays, in Oxfordshire, in 1603. Sixteen years afterwards, King James further showed his royal favour towards him by creating him Baron Wallingford, and King Charles made him Earl of Banbury in 1626. He was married twice during his long life—first to Dorothy, widow of Lord Chandos, and daughter of Lord Bray, but by her he had no children; and secondly, and in the same year that his first wife died, to Lady Elizabeth Howard, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Suffolk. The couple were not well-assorted, the earl verging on three-score years, while the lady had not seen her twentieth summer on the day of her nuptials. Still their married life was happy, and her youth gladdened the old man's heart, as is proved by his settlement upon her, in 1629, of Caversham, in Berkshire, and by his constituting her his sole executrix. In the settlement, moreover, he makes mention of "the love and affection which he beareth unto the said Lady Elizabeth his wife, having always been a good and loving wife;" and in the will he calls her his "dearly-beloved wife Elizabeth, Countess of Banbury." Lord Banbury died on the 25th of May 1632, having at least reached the age of eighty-five.

No inquiry was made immediately after his death as to the lands of which he died seised; but about eleven months afterwards, a commission was issued to the feodor and deputy-escheator of Oxfordshire, pursuant to which an inquisition was taken on the 11th of April 1633, at Burford, when the jury found that Elizabeth, his wife, survived him; that the earl had died without heirs-male of his body, and that his heirs were certain persons who were specified. Notwithstanding this decision there appears to have been little doubt that about the 10th of April 1627, the countess had been delivered of a son, who was baptized as Edward, and that on the 3d of January 1631, she had given birth to another son, who received the name of Nicholas. Both of these children were living when the inquisition was made. The first was born when the Earl of Banbury was in his eightieth year, and his wife between forty and forty-one years of age, and the second came into the world almost when his father was about to leave it, and when the countess was between forty and forty-five. Within five weeks after the death of the earl, her ladyship married Lord Vaux of Harrowden, who had been on terms of intimate friendship with the family during the deceased nobleman's lifetime, and it was plainly said that the children of Lady Banbury were the issue of Lord Vaux, and not of the earl.

On the 9th of February 1640-41, a bill was filed in Chancery by Edward, the eldest son, described as "Edward, Earl of Banbury, an infant," by William, Earl of Salisbury, his guardian, and brother-in-law of the Countess of Banbury. Witnesses were examined in the cause; but after a century and a-half their evidence was rejected in 1809 by the House of Lords. There was, however, a more rapid and satisfactory means of procedure. A writ was issued in 1641, directing the escheator of Berkshire "to inquire after the death of William, Earl of Banbury;" and the consequence was that a jury, which held an inquisition at Abingdon, found, with other matters, "that Edward, now Earl of Banbury, is, and at the time of the earl's decease was, his son and next heir." The young man, therefore, assumed the title, and set out on a foreign tour. He was killed during the next year near Calais, while he was yet a minor. His brother Nicholas, then about fifteen years of age, at once assumed the title. In the same year Lord Vaux settled Harrowden and his other estates upon him. His mother, the Countess of Banbury, died on the 17th of April 1658, at the age of seventy-three, and Lord Vaux departed this life on the 8th of September 1661, aged seventy-four. Meantime Nicholas had taken his seat in the House of Lords, and occupied it without question for a couple of years. The Convention Parliament having been dissolved, however, he was not summoned to that which followed it, and in order to prove his right to the peerage petitioned the Crown for his writ. This petition was heard by the Committee for Privileges, which ultimately decided that "Nicholas, Earl of Banbury, is a legitimate person."

At his death he left one son, Charles, who assumed the title of Earl of Banbury, and who petitioned the House of Lords to take his case into consideration. After thirty years' delay, occasioned by the disturbed state of the times, the so-called Lord Banbury having accidentally killed his brother-in-law in a duel, was indicted as "Charles Knollys, Esq.," to answer for the crime on the 7th of November 1692. He appealed to the House of Lords, and demanded a trial by his peers: it was therefore necessary to re-open the whole case. After a patient investigation, his petition to the House of Lords was dismissed, and it was resolved that he had no right to the earldom of Banbury. He was consequently removed to Newgate.

When he was placed before the judges, and was called upon to plead, he admitted that he was the person indicted, but pleaded a misnomer in abatement—or, in other words, that he was the Earl of Banbury. The pleas occupied, subsequently, more than a year, during which time the prisoner was admitted to bail. At last the House of Lords interfered, and called upon the Attorney-General to produce "an account in writing of the proceedings in the Court of King's Bench against the person who claims the title of the Earl of Banbury." The Attorney-General acted up to his instructions, and Lord Chief-Justice Holt was heard by the Lords on the subject. Parliament, however, was prorogued soon afterwards, and no decision was arrived at in the matter. Meantime, the Court of King's Bench proceeded to act as if no interference had been made, and quashed the indictment on the ground that the prisoner was erroneously styled "Charles Knollys" instead of "The Earl of Banbury."

When the Lords reassembled on the 27th of November 1694 they were very wroth, but, after an angry debate, the affair was adjourned, and nothing more was heard of the Banbury Peerage until the beginning of 1698, when Charles Banbury again petitioned the king, and the petition was once more referred to the House of Lords. Lord Chief-Justice Holt was summoned before the committee, and in answer to inquiries as to the motives which had actuated the judges of the King's Bench, replied, "I acknowledge the thing; there was such a plea and such a replication. I gave my judgment according to my conscience. We are trusted with the law. We are to be protected, not arraigned, and are not to give reasons for our judgment; therefore I desire to be excused giving any." Mr. Justice Eyre maintained the same dignified tone, and at length the House of Lords abandoned its fruitless struggle with the common-law Judges. The petition of Lord Banbury was subsequently laid before the Privy Council, when the sudden death of Queen Anne once more put an end to the proceedings.

When the Hanoverian princes came to the throne, Lord Banbury again tempted fate by a new petition to the Crown. Sir Philip York, the then Attorney-General, investigated the whole of the past proceedings from 1600 up to his time, and made a full report to the king, but no definite decision was given. In 1740, the claimant Charles, so-called Earl of Banbury, died in France. During his lifetime he had never ceased to bear the title he had presented five petitions to the Crown, demanding the acknowledgment of his rights, and neither he nor any of his family, during the eighty years which had elapsed from the first preferment of the claim, had ever relinquished an iota of their pretensions.

At his death Charles, the third assumed Earl of Banbury, left a son called Charles, who adopted the title, and, dying in 1771, bequeathed it to his son William, who bore it until his decease in 1776. He was, in turn, succeeded by his brother Thomas, at whose death, in 1793, it devolved upon his eldest son, William Knollys, then called Viscount Wallingford, who immediately assumed the title of Earl of Banbury, and in 1806 presented a formal petition to the Crown—a petition which was in due course referred to the Attorney-General, and was by his advice transferred to the House of Lords.

Until 1806, when the claim was renewed, the pretenders to the Banbury honours had not only styled themselves earls in all legal documents, but they had been so described in the proceedings which had taken place, and in the commissions which they had held; and while their wives had been styled Countesses of Banbury, their children had borne those collateral titles which would have been given by courtesy to the sons and daughters of the Earls of Banbury. But, although there had thus been an uninterrupted usage of the title for upwards of 180 years, when William Knollys succeeded his father a new system was practised. His father, the deceased earl, had held a commission in the third regiment of foot, and during his father's lifetime he had been styled in his own major-general's commission, "William Knollys, commonly called Viscount Wallingford." But on his father's decease, and the consequent descent of his father's claims, the title of earl was refused to him, and therefore it was that he presented his petition.

The case remained in the House of Lords for nearly six years. On the 30th of May 1808 it was brought on for hearing before the Committee for Privileges, when Sir Samuel Romilly, Mr. Gaselee, and Mr. Hargrave, appeared for the petitioner, and the Crown was represented by the Attorney-General and a junior counsel. A great mass of documentary and genealogical evidence was produced; but after a most painstaking investigation, Lords Erskine, Ellenborough, Eldon, and Redesdale came to the conclusion that Nicholas Vaux, the petitioner, had not made out his claim to the Earldom of Banbury, and the House of Lords, on the 11th of March 1813, endorsed their decision.



JAMES PERCY—THE SO-CALLED EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND.

In 1670 Jocelyn Percy, the eleventh Earl of Northumberland, died without male issue. Up to his time, throughout the six hundred years, the noble family of Percy had never been without a male representative, and the successive earls had almost invariably been soldiers, and had added to the lustre of their descent by their own valiant deeds. But when Earl Jocelyn died, in 1670, he left behind him a solitary daughter—whose life was in itself eventful enough, and who became the wife of Charles Somerset, the proud Duke of Somerset—but who could not wear the title, although she inherited much of the wealth of the Percys.

Jocelyn Percy was, however, scarcely cold in his grave when a claimant appeared, who sought the family honours and the entailed lands which their possession implied. This was James Percy, a poor Dublin trunkmaker, who came over to England and at once assumed the title. His pretensions aroused the ire of the dowager-countess, the mother of Earl Jocelyn, who, on the 18th of February 1672, presented a petition to the House of Lords on behalf of herself and Lady Elizabeth Percy, her grand-daughter, setting forth that "one who called himself James Percy (by profession a trunkmaker in Dublin) assumes to himself the titles of Earl of Northumberland and Lord Percy, to the dishonour of that family." This petition was referred, in the usual course, to the Committee for Privileges. This was immediately followed by a petition from the claimant, which was read, considered, and dismissed. However, both parties appeared before the House of Lords on the 28th of November, James Percy claiming the honours, and the countess declaring him an impostor. Percy craved an extension of time; but, as he was unable to show any probability that he would ultimately succeed, his demand was refused, and his petition was dismissed—Arthur Annesley, earl of Anglesea, alone protesting against the decision.

Percy, however, displaying the same valour and obstinacy in the courts which his ancestors had so often shown on the battle-fields, was not daunted, although he was discomfited. He appealed to the common-law tribunals, and brought actions for scandal and ejectment against various parties, and no fewer than five of these suits were tried between 1674 and 1681. The first adversary whom he challenged was James Clark, whom he sued for scandal, and in whose case he was content to accept a non-suit; alleging, however, that this untoward result was not so much brought about by the weakness of his cause as by the faithlessness of his attorney. In a printed document which he published with reference to the trial, he distinctly states that the Lord Chief-Justice, Sir Matthew Hale, was so much dissatisfied with the decision, that in the open court he plainly asserted "that the claimant had proved himself a true Percy, by father, mother, grandfather, and grandmother, and of the blood and family of the Percys of Northumberland; and that he did verily believe that the claimant was cousin and next heir-male to Jocelyn, late Earl of Northumberland, only he was afraid he had taken the descent too high." It is further reported that Sir Matthew, on entering his carriage, remarked to Lord Shaftesbury, who was standing by, "I verily believe he hath as much right to the earldom of Northumberland as I have to this coach and horses, which I have bought and paid for."

His next action was against a gentleman named Wright, who had taken upon himself to pronounce him illegitimate, and in this instance he was more successful. The case was heard before Sir Richard Rainsford, Sir Matthew Hale's successor, and resulted in a verdict for the plaintiff, with L300 damages. Flushed by this victory, he took proceedings against Edward Craister, the sheriff of Northumberland, against whom he filed a bill for the recovery of the sum of L20 a-year, granted by the patent of creation out of the revenues of the county. Before this, however, in 1680, he had again petitioned the House of Lords, and his petition was again rejected—Lord Annesley, as before, protesting against the rejection. The litigation with Craister in the Court of Exchequer being very protracted, the Duchess of Somerset (who was the daughter and heiress of Earl Jocelyn) brought the matter once more before the Lords in 1685, and her petition was referred to the Committee of Privileges. In reply to her petition Percy presented one of complaint, which was also sent to the Committee. No decision, however, seems to have been arrived at, and the reign of King James came to a close without further action. In the first year of the reign of William and Mary (1689), Percy returned to the charge with a fresh petition and a fresh demand for recognition and justice. These documents are still extant, and some of them are very entertaining. In one he candidly admits that he has been, up to the time when he writes, in error as to his pedigree, and, abandoning his old position, takes up fresh ground. In another, "The claimant desireth your lordships to consider the justice and equity of his cause, hoping your lordships will take such care therein that your own descendants may not be put to the like trouble for the future in maintaining their and your petitioner's undoubted right;" and lest the argumentum ad homines should fail, he asks, "Whether or no three streams issuing from one fountain, why the third stream (though little, the first two great streams being spent) may not justly claim the right of the original fountain?" In addition, he appends a sort of solemn declaration, in which he represents himself as trusting in God, and waiting patiently upon the king's sacred Majesty for his royal writ of summons to call him to appear and take his place and seat according to his birthright and title, "for true men ought not to be blamed for standing up for justice, property, and right, which is the chief diadem in the Crown, and the laurel of the kingdom." That summons never was destined to be issued. When the Committee for Privileges gave in their report, it declared Percy's conduct to be insolent in persisting to designate himself Earl of Northumberland after the previous decisions of the House; and the Lords ordered that counsel should be heard at the bar of the House on the part of the Duke of Somerset against the said James Percy.

This was accordingly done; and the Lords not only finally came to the decision "that the pretensions of the said James Percy to the earldom of Northumberland are groundless, false, and scandalous," and ordered that his petition be dismissed, but added to their judgment this sentence, "That the said James Percy shall be brought before the four Courts in Westminster Hall, wearing a paper upon his breast on which these words shall be written: 'THE FALSE AND IMPUDENT PRETENDER TO THE EARLDOM OF NORTHUMBERLAND.'" The judgment was at once carried into execution, and from that time forward the unfortunate trunkmaker disappears from the public view. He does not seem to have reverted to his old trade; or, at least, if he did so, he made it profitable, for we find his son, Sir Anthony Percy, figuring as Lord Mayor of Dublin in 1699. There can be no doubt that, although he was treated with undue harshness, his claims had no real foundation. At first he alleged that his grandfather, Henry Percy, was a son of Sir Richard Percy, a younger brother of Henry, ninth Earl of Northumberland—an allegation which would have made Sir Richard a grandfather at thirteen years of age. It was further proved that Sir Richard, so far from having any claim to such unusual honours, died without issue. In his second story he traced his descent to Sir Ingelram Percy, stating that his grandfather Henry was the eldest of the four children of Sir Ingelram, and that these children were sent from the north in hampers to Dame Vaux of Harrowden, in Northamptonshire. He advanced no proof, however, of the correctness of this story, while the other side showed conclusively that Sir Ingelram had never been married, and at his death had only left an illegitimate daughter. At any rate, whether James Percy was honest or dishonest, "the game was worth the candle"—the Percy honours and estates were worth trying for.



THE DOUGLAS PEERAGE CASE.

Rather more than a hundred years ago the whole kingdom was disturbed by the judicial proceedings which were taken with reference to the succession to the ancient honours of the great Scotch house of Douglas. Boswell, who was but little indisposed to exaggeration, and who is reported by Sir Walter Scott to have been such an ardent partizan that he headed a mob which smashed the windows of the judges of the Court of Session, says that "the Douglas cause shook the security of birthright in Scotland to its foundation, and was a cause which, had it happened before the Union, when there was no appeal to a British House of Lords, would have left the fortress of honours and of property in ruins." His zeal even led him to oppose his idol Dr. Johnson, who took the opposite side, and to tell him that he knew nothing of the cause, which, he adds, he does most seriously believe was the case. But however this may be, the popular interest and excitement were extreme; the decision of the Court of Session in 1767 led to serious disturbances, and the reversal of its judgment two years later was received with the most extravagant demonstrations of joy.

In the beginning of the eighteenth century, Archibald, Duke of Douglas, wore the honours of Sholto, "the Douglas." His father, James, the second Marquis of Douglas, had been twice married, and had issue by his first wife in the person of James, earl of Angus, who was killed at the battle of Steinkirk; and by his second of a son and daughter. The son was the Archibald just mentioned, who became his heir and successor, and the daughter was named Lady Jane. Her ladyship, like most of the women of the Douglas family, was celebrated for her beauty; but unhappily became afterwards as famous for her evil fortune. In her first womanhood she entered into a nuptial agreement with the Earl of Dalkeith, who subsequently became Duke of Buccleuch, but the marriage was unexpectedly broken off, and for very many years she persistently refused all the offers which were made for her hand. At length, in 1746, when she was forty-eight years old, she was secretly married to Mr. Stewart, of Grantully. This gentleman was a penniless scion of a good family, and the sole resources of the newly-wedded couple consisted of an allowance of L300 per annum, which had been granted by the duke to his sister, with whom he was on no friendly terms. Even this paltry means of support was precarious, and it was resolved to keep the marriage secret. The more effectually to conceal it, Mr. Stewart and his nobly-born wife repaired to France, and remained on the Continent for three years. At the end of that time they returned to England, bringing with them two children, of whom they alleged the Lady Jane had been delivered in Paris, at a twin-birth, in July 1748. Six months previously to their arrival in London their marriage had been made public, and the duke had stopped the allowance which he had previously granted. They were, therefore, in the direst distress; and, to add to their other misfortunes, Mr. Stewart being deeply involved in debt, his creditors threw him into prison.

Lady Jane bore up against her accumulated sorrows with more than womanly heroism, and when she found all her efforts to excite the sympathy of her brother unavailing, addressed the following letter to Mr. Pelham, then Secretary of State:—

"SIR,—If I meant to importune you I should ill deserve the generous compassion which I was informed some months ago you expressed upon being acquainted with my distress. I take this as the least troublesome way of thanking you, and desiring you to lay my application before the king in such a light as your own humanity will suggest. I cannot tell my story without seeming to complain of one of whom I never will complain. I am persuaded my brother wishes me well, but, from a mistaken resentment, upon a creditor of mine demanding from him a trifling sum, he has stopped the annuity which he had always paid me—my father having left me, his only younger child, in a manner unprovided for. Till the Duke of Douglas is set right—which I am confident he will be—I am destitute. Presumptive heiress of a great estate and family, with two children, I want bread. Your own nobleness of mind will make you feel how much it costs me to beg, though from the king. My birth, and the attachment of my family, I flatter myself his Majesty is not unacquainted with. Should he think me an object of his royal bounty, my heart won't suffer any bounds to be set to my gratitude; and, give me leave to say, my spirit won't suffer me to be burdensome to his Majesty longer than my cruel necessity compels me.

"I little thought of ever being reduced to petition in this way; your goodness will therefore excuse me if I have mistaken the manner, or said anything improper. Though personally unknown to you, I rely upon your intercession. The consciousness of your own mind in having done so good and charitable a deed will be a better return than the thanks of JANE DOUGLAS STEWART."

The result was that the king granted the distressed lady a pension of L300 a-year; but Lady Jane seems to have been little relieved thereby. The Douglas' notions of economy were perhaps eccentric, but, at all events, not only did Mr. Stewart still remain in prison, but his wife was frequently compelled to sell the contents of her wardrobe to supply him with suitable food during his prolonged residence in the custody of the officers of the Court of King's Bench. During the course of his incarceration Lady Jane resided in Chelsea, and the letters which passed between the severed pair, letters which were afterwards produced in court—proved that their children were rarely absent from their thoughts, and that on all occasions they treated them with the warmest parental affection.

In 1752, Lady Jane visited Scotland, accompanied by her children, for the purpose, if possible, of effecting a reconciliation with her brother; but the duke flatly refused even to accord her an interview. She therefore returned to London, leaving the children in the care of a nurse at Edinburgh. This woman, who had originally accompanied herself and her husband to the continent, treated them in the kindest possible manner; but, notwithstanding her care, Sholto Thomas Stewart, the younger of the twins, sickened and died on the 11th of May 1753. The disconsolate mother at once hurried back to the Scottish capital, and again endeavoured to move her brother to have compassion upon her in her distress. Her efforts were fruitless, and, worn out by starvation, hardship, and fatigue, she, too, sank and died in the following November, disowned by her friends, and, as she said to Pelham, "wanting bread."

Better days soon dawned upon Archibald, the surviving twin. Lady Shaw, deeply stirred by the misfortunes and lamentable end of his mother, took him under her own charge, and educated and supported him as befitted his condition. When she died a nobleman took him up; and his father, having unexpectedly succeeded to the baronetcy and estates of Grantully, on acquiring his inheritance, immediately executed a bond of provision in his favour for upwards of L2500, and therein acknowledged him as his son by Lady Jane Douglas.

The rancour of the duke, however, had not died away, and he stubbornly refused to recognise the child as his nephew. And, more than this, after having spent the greater portion of his life in seclusion, he unexpectedly entered into a marriage, in 1758, with the eldest daughter of Mr. James Douglas, of Mains. This lady, far from sharing in the opinions of her noble lord, espoused the cause of the lad whom he so firmly repudiated, and became a partisan so earnest that a quarrel resulted, which gave rise to a separation. But peace was easily restored, and quietness once more reigned in the ducal household.

In the middle of 1761, the Duke of Douglas was unexpectedly taken ill, and his physicians pronounced his malady to be mortal. Nature, in her strange and unexplained way, told the ill-tempered peer the same tale, and, when death was actually before his eyes, he repented of his conduct towards his unfortunate sister. To herself he was unable to make any reparation, but her boy remained; and, on the 11th of July 1761, he executed an entail of his entire estates in favour of the heirs of his father, James, Marquis of Douglas, with remainder to Lord Douglas Hamilton, the brother of the Duke of Hamilton, and supplemented it by another deed which set forth that, as in the event of his death without heirs of his body, Archibald Douglas, alias Stewart, a minor, and son of the deceased Lady Jane Douglas, his sister, would succeed him, he appointed the Duchess of Douglas, the Duke of Queensberry, and certain other persons whom he named, to be the lad's tutors and guardians. Thus, from being a rejected waif, the boy became the acknowledged heir to a peerage, and a long rent-roll.

There were still, however, many difficulties to be surmounted. The guardians of the young Hamilton had no intention of losing the splendid prize which was almost within their grasp, and repudiated the boy's pretensions. On the other hand, the guardians of the youthful Stewart-Douglas were determined to procure the official recognition of his claims. Accordingly, immediately after the duke's decease, they hastened to put him in possession of the Douglas estate, and set on foot legal proceedings to justify their conduct. The Hamilton faction thereupon despatched one of their number to Paris, and on his return their emissary rejoiced their hearts and elevated their hopes by informing them that he was convinced, on safe grounds, that Lady Jane Douglas had never given birth to the twins, as suggested, and that the whole story was a fabrication. They, therefore, asserted before the courts that the claimant to the Douglas honours was not a Douglas at all.

They denied that Lady Jane Douglas was delivered on July 10, 1748, in the house of a Madame La Brune, as stated; and brought forward various circumstances to show that Madame La Brune herself never existed. They asserted that it was impossible that the birth could have taken place at that time, because on the specified date, and for several days precedent and subsequent to the 10th of July, Lady Jane Douglas with her husband and a Mrs. Hewit were staying at the Hotel de Chalons—an inn kept by a Mons. Godefroi, who, with his wife, was ready to prove their residence there. And they not only maintained that dark work had been carried on in Paris by the parties concerned in the affair, but alleged that Sir John Stewart, Lady Jane Douglas, and Mrs. Hewit, had stolen from French parents the children which they afterwards foisted upon the public as real Douglases.

The claimant, and those representing him, on their part, brought forward the depositions of several witnesses that Lady Jane Douglas appeared to them to be with child while at Aix-la-Chapelle and other places, and put in evidence the sworn testimony of Mrs. Hewit, who accompanied the newly-wedded pair to the continent, as to the actual delivery of her ladyship at Paris upon the 10th of July 1748. They also submitted the depositions of independent witnesses as to the recognition of the claimant by Sir John (then Mr.) Stewart and his wife, and produced a variety of letters which had passed between Sir John Stewart, Lady Jane Douglas, Mrs. Hewit, and others as to the birth. They also added to their case four letters, which purported to emanate from Pierre la Marre, whom they represented to have been the accoucheur at the delivery of Lady Jane.

Sir John Stewart, Lady Jane's husband, and the reputed father of the claimant, died in June 1764; but, before his decease, his depositions were taken in the presence of two ministers and of a justice of the peace. He asserted, "as one slipping into eternity, that the defendant (Archibald Stewart) and his deceased twin-brother were both born of the body of Lady Jane Douglas, his lawful spouse, in the year 1748."

The case came before the Court of Session on the 17th of July 1767, when no fewer than fifteen judges took their seats to decide it. During its continuance Mrs. Hewit, who was charged with abetting the fraud, died; but before her death she also, like Sir John Stewart, formally and firmly asserted, with her dying breath, that her evidence in the matter was unprejudiced and true. After a patient hearing seven of the judges voted to "sustain the reasons of reduction," and the other seven to "assoilzie the defender." In other words, the bench was divided in opinion, and the Lord President, who has no vote except as an umpire in such a dilemma, voted for the Hamilton or illegitimacy side, and thus deprived Archibald Douglas, or Stewart, of both the title and the estates.

But a matter of such importance could not, naturally, be allowed to remain in such an unsatisfactory condition. An appeal was made to the House of Lords, and the judgment of the Scottish Court of Session was reversed in 1769. Archibald Douglas was, therefore, declared to be the son of Lady Jane, and the heir to the dukedom of Douglas.



ALEXANDER HUMPHREYS—THE PRETENDED EARL OF STIRLING.

The idea of colonizing Nova Scotia found great favour in the eyes both of James VI. and Charles I., and the former monarch rewarded Sir William Alexander of Menstrie, who actively supported the project, with a charter, dated 12th September 1621, in which he granted to him "All and Whole the territory adjacent to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, thenceforward to be called Nova Scotia;" and constituted him, his heirs and assignees, hereditary Lords-Lieutenant. The powers which were given to these Lords-Lieutenant were little short of regal; but before the charter could be ratified by the Scotch Parliament his Majesty died. In 1625, however, the grant was renewed in the form of a Charter of Novodamus, which was even more liberal than the original document. These deeds were drawn out in the usual form of Scottish conveyances, and were ratified by the Scotch Parliament in 1633.

In accordance with their terms Sir William despatched one of his sons to Canada, where, acting in his father's name, he built forts at the mouth of the St. Lawrence, and acted as a petty king during his stay. Still the project did not flourish: colonists were scarce and shy, and, in order to make colonization more rapid, King James hit upon the expedient of creating Nova-Scotian baronets, and of conferring this distinction upon the leading members of those families who most actively engaged in the work of populating the land. His successor Charles I., who had an equal desire and necessity for money, converted the new order into a source of revenue by granting 16,000 acres of Canadian soil to those who could pay well, by erecting the district thus sold into a barony, and by attaching the honours of a baronet of Nova Scotia thereto. The order was afterwards extended to natives of England and Ireland, provided they became naturalized Scotchmen.

Sir William Alexander, by unfortunate speculations, was reduced to want; his affairs became involved, and he ultimately sold his entire Canadian possessions to a Frenchman named de la Tour. The original Scotch colony depended upon the crown of Scotland: it was ceded to France by the Treaty of St. Germains, dated the 29th of March 1632; was reconquered by Cromwell; was again surrendered in the reign of Charles II.; and in 1713 once more became a British colony—no consideration being paid at the last transfer to the real or imaginary claims of Sir William Alexander.

The worthy baronet, however, notwithstanding his misfortunes and his impecuniosity, continued a great friend of the first Charles, who, by royal letters patent, elevated him, on the 14th of June 1633, to a peerage under the title of the Earl of Stirling. The earldom became dormant in 1739.

After a lapse of more than twenty years a claimant for these honours appeared in the person of William Alexander; but his appeal to the House of Peers was rejected on the 10th of March 1762, and the Stirling Peerage was commonly supposed to have shared the common earthly fate, and to have died a natural death. But a new aspirant unexpectedly appeared. This gentleman, named Humphreys, laid claim not only to the earldom of Stirling, but also to the whole territory of Canada, in addition to the Scottish estates appertaining thereto; and, in order to substantiate his pretensions, put forward an assumed pedigree. In this document he declared himself to be the lineal descendant and nearest lawful heir of Sir William Alexander, who he said was his great-great-great-grandfather. From this remote fountain he pretended to have come, following the acknowledged stream until he reached Benjamin, the last heir-male of the body of the first earl, and, diverting the current to heirs-female in the person of Hannah, Earl William's youngest daughter, who was married at Birmingham, and whom he represented as his own ancestress.

In 1824, having obtained formal license to assume the surname of Alexander, he procured himself to be served "lawful and nearest heir-male in general of the body of the said Hannah Alexander," before the bailies of Canongate, 1826. Then he assumed the title of Earl of Stirling and Dovan, and, in 1830, formally registered himself as "lawful and nearest heir in general to the deceased William, the first Earl of Stirling."

According to the patent of 1633, which was confined to heirs-male, Humphreys had no claim either to the title or estates; but he based his pretensions upon a document which, he said, had been granted by Charles I., in 1639, to the Earl of Stirling, and which conferred upon him, without limitation as to issue, the whole estates in Scotland and America, as well as the honours conveyed by the original patent. This he attempted to prove in an action in the Court of Session, which was dismissed in 1830, as was also a similar action for a like purpose in 1833.

But, although not officially recognised, he assumed all the imaginary privileges of his position, granting to his friends vast districts of Canadian soil, creating Nova-Scotian baronets at his own discretion, and acting, if not like a king, at least like a feudal magnate of the first degree. He caused notice after notice to be issued proclaiming his rights, and the records of the time are filled with strange proclamations and announcements, to which his name is attached. As a rule, these productions are far too lengthy to be copied, and far too involved to be readily summarized. They have all a lamentably commercial tone, and invariably exhibit an unworthy disposition to sacrifice great prospective or assumed advantages for a very little ready money. Take, for instance, his address to the public authorities of Nova Scotia, issued in 1831. In it, after informing his readers of the steps which he had taken to assert his rights, and the prospects which existed of their recognition, he hastens to observe that "persons desirous of settling on any of the waste lands, either by purchase or lease, will find me ready to treat with them on the most liberal terms and conditions;" and throws out a gentle hint that in any official appointment he might have to make, he would prefer that "the persons to fill them should rather be Nova Scotians or Canadians, than the strangers of England." At the same time he issued numerous advertisements in the journals, reminding all whom it might concern of his hereditary rights, and warning the world in general against infringing his exclusive privileges. At length, having succeeded in gaining notoriety for himself, he aroused the Scotch nobility. On the 19th of March 1832, the Earl of Rosebery proposed and obtained a select committee of the House of Lords, with a view of impeding "the facility with which persons can assume a title without authority, and thus lessen the character and respectability of the peerage in the eyes of the public;" and the Marchioness of Downshire, the female representative of the house of Stirling, forwarded a petition to the Lords, complaining of the undue assumption of the title by Mr. Humphreys.

It is somewhat remarkable that the extraordinary proceedings of this person should have been tolerated for so long a time by the law-officers of the Crown; but his growing audacity at last led to their interference, and what is termed an action of reduction was brought against him and his agent. Lord Cockburn, who heard the case, decided, without hesitation, that his claim was not established, declared the previous legal proceedings invalid, and demolished the pretensions of the claimant. Under these circumstances it was necessary to do something to strengthen those weak points in his title, which had been pointed out by the presiding judge, and Humphreys or his friends were equal to the emergency. A variety of documents were discovered in the most unexpected manner, which exactly supplied the missing links in the evidence, and the claim was accordingly renewed. The law-officers of the Crown denied the validity of these documents, which emanated from the most suspicious sources—some being forwarded by a noted Parisian fortune-teller, called Madlle le Normand; and after Mr. Humphreys had been judicially examined with regard to them, he was served with an indictment to stand his trial for forgery before the High Court of Justiciary, at Edinburgh, on the 3d of April 1839. The trial lasted for five days, and created intense excitement throughout Scotland. During the trial it was elicited that the father of Mr. Humphreys had been a respectable merchant in Birmingham, who had amassed considerable wealth, had gone abroad, accompanied by his son, in 1802, and had taken up his temporary residence in France. As he did not return at the declaration of war which followed the brief peace, he was detained by Napoleon, and died at Verdun in 1807. His son, the pretended earl, remained a prisoner in France until 1815, and afterwards established himself as a schoolmaster at Worcester. There he met with little success, but bore an excellent character, and gained a certain number of influential friends, whose probity and truthfulness were beyond doubt; some of whom supported him through all his career, one officer of distinction even sitting in the dock with him. The public sympathy was also strongly displayed on his side. But the evidence which was led on behalf of the Crown was conclusive, and a verdict was returned declaring the documents to be forgeries; but finding it "Not Proven" that the prisoner knew that they were fictitious, or uttered them with any malicious intention. He was therefore set at liberty, and retired into private life. Whether he was an impostor, or was merely the victim of a hallucination, it is very difficult to say. In any case he failed to prove himself the Earl of Stirling.



THE SO-CALLED HEIRS OF THE STUARTS.

After the disastrous battle of Culloden, Charles Edward Stuart, or "The Young Pretender," as he was commonly styled by his opponents, fled from the field, and after many hair-breadth escapes succeeded in reaching the Highlands, where he wandered to and fro for many weary months. A reward of L30,000 was set upon his head, his enemies dogged his footsteps like bloodhounds, and often he was so hard pressed by the troops that he had to take refuge in caves and barns, and sometimes was compelled to avoid all shelter but that afforded him by the forests and brackens on the bleak hillsides. But the people remained faithful to his cause, and, even when danger seemed most imminent, succeeded in baffling his pursuers, and ultimately in effecting his escape. Accompanied by Cameron of Lochiel, and a few of his most faithful adherents, he managed to smuggle himself on board a little French privateer, and was at last landed in safety at a place called Roseau, near Morlaix, in France. He was treated with great respect at the French court, until the King of France, by the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, disowned all rivals of the House of Hanover. The prince protested against this treaty, and braved the French court. He was accordingly ordered, in no very ceremonious terms, to leave the country, and betook himself to Italy, where he gave himself up to drunkenness, debauchery, and excesses of the lowest kind. In 1772 he married the Princess Louisa Maximilian de Stolberg, by whom he had no children, and with whom he lived very unhappily. He died from the effects of his own self-indulgence, and without male issue, in 1788. His father, the Chevalier de St. George, had pre-deceased him in 1766, and his younger brother the Cardinal York, having been debarred from marriage, it was supposed that at the death of the cardinal the royal House of Stuart had passed away.

But, in 1847, a book appeared, entitled "Tales of the Century; or, Sketches of the Romance of History between the Years 1746 and 1846, by John Sobieski and Charles Edward Stuart," and it immediately created a considerable stir in literary circles. It was at once evident that the three stories which the work contained were not intended to be read as fictions, but as a contribution to the history of the period; or, in other words, the authors meant the public to understand that Prince Charles Edward Stuart left a legitimate son by his wife Louisa de Stolberg, and that they themselves were his descendants and representatives.

The first of these "Tales of the Century" is called "The Picture," and introduces the reader to a young Highland gentleman, named Macdonnell, of Glendulochan, who is paying a first visit, in 1831, to an aged Jacobite doctor, then resident in Westminster. This old adherent of the cause feels the near approach of death, and is oppressed by the possession of a secret which he feels must not die with him. He had promised only to reveal it "in the service of his king;" and believing it for his service that it should live, he confides it to the young chief. "I will reveal it to you," he says, "that the last of the Gael may live to keep that mysterious hope—They have yet a king."

He then narrates how, in the course of a tour which he had made in Italy, in 1773, a lingering fascination compelled him to remain for some days in the vicinity of St. Rosalie, on the road from Parma to Florence; how he had often walked for hours in the deep quiet shades of the convent, ruminating on his distant country, on past events, and on coming fortunes yet unknown; and how, while thus engaged one evening, his reverie was disturbed by the rapid approach of a carriage with scarlet outriders. He gained a momentary glimpse, of its occupants—a lady and gentleman—and recognised the prince at once, "for though changed with years and care, he was still himself; and though no longer the 'Bonnie Prince Charlie' of our faithful beau-ideal, still the same eagle-featured royal bird which I had seen on his own mountains, when he spread his wings towards the south; and once more I felt the thrilling talismanic influence of his appearance, the sight so dear, so deeply-rooted in the hearts of the Highlanders—Charlie, King of the Gael."

On the same evening, while the doctor was pacing the aisles of St. Rosalie, he was disturbed from his meditation by a heavy military tread and the jingling of spurs, and a man of superior appearance, but equivocal demeanour, strode towards him, and demanded to know if he were Dr. Beaton, the Scotch physician. On receiving an affirmative answer, he was requested to render assistance to some one in need of immediate attendance, and all hesitation and inquiry was attempted to be cut short by the announcement—"The relief of the malady, and not the circumstances, of the patient is the province of the physician, and for the present occasion you will best learn by an inspection of the individual."

A carriage was in waiting, but, in true romantic style, it was necessary that the doctor should consent to be blindfolded; an indignity to which he refused to submit, until the stranger, with effusive expressions of respect for his doubts, said the secret would be embarrassing to its possessor, as it concerned the interest and safety of the most illustrious of the Scottish Jacobites. The doctor's reluctance now changed into eagerness; he readily agreed to follow his guide, and was conveyed, partly by land and partly by water, to a mansion, which they entered through a garden. After passing through a long range of apartments, his mask was removed, and he looked round upon a splendid saloon, hung with crimson velvet, and blazing with mirrors which reached from floor to ceiling, while the dim perspective of a long conservatory was revealed at the farther end. His conductor rang a silver bell, which was immediately answered by a little page, richly dressed in scarlet. This boy entered into conversation in German with the cavalier, and gave very pleasing information to him, which he, in turn, communicated to the doctor. "Signor Dottore," said he, "the most important part of your occasion is past. The lady whom you have been unhappily called to attend met with an alarming accident in her carriage not half an hour before I found you in the church, and the unlucky absence of her physician leaves her entirely in your charge. Her accouchement is over, apparently without more than exhaustion; but of that you will be the judge."

The mention of the carriage and the accident recalled to Dr. Beaton his hasty vision of the prince, but, before he could collect his confused thoughts, he was led through a splendid suite of apartments to a small ante-room, decorated with several portraits, among which he instantly recognised one of the Duke of Perth and another of King James VIII. Thence he was conducted into a magnificent bed-chamber, where the light of a single taper shed a dim glimmer through the apartment. A lady who addressed him in English led him towards the bed. The curtains were almost closed, and by the bed stood a female attendant holding an infant enveloped in a mantle. As she retired, the lady drew aside the curtains, and by the faint light which fell within the bed, the doctor imperfectly distinguished the pale features of a delicate face, which lay wan and languid, almost enveloped in the down pillow. The patient uttered a few words in German, but was extremely weak, and almost pulseless. The case was urgent, and the Scotch doctor, suppressing all indication of the danger of which he was sensible, offered at once to write a prescription.

For this purpose he was taken to a writing-cabinet which stood near; and there, while momentarily reflecting upon the ingredients which were to form his prescription, he glanced at a toilet beside him. The light of the taper shone full upon a number of jewels, which lay loosely intermixed among the scent bottles, as if put off in haste and confusion; and his surprise was great to recognise an exquisite miniature of his noble exiled prince, Charles Edward, representing him in the very dress in which he had seen him at Culloden. The lady suddenly approached, as if looking for some ornaments, and placed herself between him and the table. It was but an instant, and she retired; but when the doctor, anxious for another glimpse, again turned his eyes to the table, the face of the miniature was turned.

His duty done, he was led from the house in the same mysterious manner in which he was admitted to it; but not until he had taken an oath on the crucifix "never to speak of what he had seen, heard, or thought on that night, unless it should be in the service of his king—King Charles." Moreover, he was required to leave Tuscany the same night, and, in implicit obedience to his instructions, departed to a seaport. Here he resumed his rambles and meditation, having still deeper food for thought than when he was at St. Rosalie.

On the third night after his arrival, while strolling along the beach, his attention was attracted by an English frigate, and in answer to his inquiries he was told that her name was the "Albina," and that she was commanded by Commodore O'Haleran. The doctor lingered on the shore in the bright moonlight, and was just about to retire when he was detained by the approach of a horseman, who was followed by a small close carriage. In the horseman he recognised his mysterious guide of St. Rosalie, and waited to see the next move in the game. The carriage stopped full in the moonlight, near the margin of the water. A signal was given by the cavalier, and in response the long black shadow of a man-of-war's galley shot from behind a creek of rocks, and pulled straight for the spot where the carriage stood. Her stern was backed towards the shore. A lady alighted from the carriage, and as she descended the doctor observed that she bore in her arms some object which she held with great solicitation. An officer at the same time leaped from the boat and hastened towards the travellers. The doctor did not discern his face, but, from the glimmer of the moonlight upon his shoulders, saw that he wore double epaulettes. It may therefore be conjectured that this was Commodore O'Haleran himself. He made a brief but profound salute to the lady, and led her towards the galley. Then, says the doctor,—

"As they approached the lady unfolded her mantle, and I heard the faint cry of an infant, and distinguished for a moment the glisten of a little white mantle and cap, as she laid her charge in the arms of her companion. The officer immediately lifted her into the boat, and as soon as she was seated the cavalier delivered to her the child; and, folding it carefully in her cloak, I heard her half-suppressed voice lulling the infant from its disturbance. A brief word and a momentary grasp of the hand passed between the lady and the cavalier; and, the officer lifting his hat, the boat pushed off, the oars fell in the water, and the galley glided down the creek with a velocity that soon rendered her but a shadow in the grey tide. In a few minutes I lost sight of her altogether; but I still distinguished the faint measured plash of the oars, and the feeble wail of the infant's voice float along the still water.

"For some moments I thought I had seen the last of the little bark, which seemed to venture, like an enchanted skiff, into that world of black waters. But suddenly I caught a glimpse of the narrow boat, and the dark figures of the men, gliding across the bright stream of moonlight upon the tide; an instant after a faint gleam blinked on the white mantle of the lady and the sparkle of the oars, but it died away by degrees, and neither sound nor sight returned again.

"For more than a quarter of an hour the tall black figure of the cavalier continued fixed upon the same spot and in the same attitude; but suddenly the broad gigantic shadow of the frigate swung round in the moonshine, her sails filled to the breeze, and, dimly brightening in the light, she bore off slow and still and stately towards the west."

So much for the birth. Doctor Beaton, at least, says that Louisa de Stolberg, the lawful wife of the young pretender, gave birth to a child at St. Rosalie in 1773, and that it was carried away three days afterwards in the British frigate "Albina," by Commodore O'Haleran.

In the next story, called "The Red Eagle," another stage is reached. The Highland chief who went to visit Dr. Beaton in Westminster has passed his youth, and, in middle age, is astounded by some neighbourly gossip concerning a mysterious personage who has taken up his quarters in an adjacent mansion. This unknown individual is described as wearing the red tartan, and as having that peculiar look of the eye "which was never in the head of man nor bird but the eagle and Prince Charlie." His name also is given as Captain O'Haleran, so that there can be no difficulty in tracing his history back to the time when the commodore and the mysterious infant sailed from the Mediterranean port toward the west. Moreover, it seems that he is the reputed son of an admiral who lays claim to a Scottish peerage, who had married a southern heiress against the wishes of his relatives, and had assumed her name; and that his French valet is in the habit of paying him great deference, and occasionally styles him "Monseigneur" and "Altesse Royal." As if this hint were not sufficient, it is incidentally mentioned that a very aged Highland chief, who is almost in his dotage, no sooner set eyes upon the "Red Eagle" than he addressed him as Prince Charlie, and told his royal highness that the last time he saw him was on the morning of Culloden.

In the third and last of the tales—"The Wolf's Den"—the "Red Eagle" reappears, and is married to an English lady named Catherine Bruce. His pretensions to royalty are even more plainly acknowledged than before; and in the course of the story the Chevalier Graeme, chamberlain to the Countess d'Albanie, addresses him as "My Prince." The inference is obvious. The Highland hero with the wonderful eyes was the child of the pretender; he espoused an English lady, and the names on the title-page of the book which tells this marvellous history lead us to believe that the marriage was fruitful, and that "John Sobieski Stuart" and "Charles Edward Stuart" were the offspring of the union, and as such inherited whatever family pretensions might exist to the sovereignty of the British empire.

This very pretty story might have passed with the public as a mere romance, and, possibly, the two names on the title-page might have been regarded as mere noms de plume, if vague reports had not previously been circulated which made it apparent that the motive of the so-called Stuarts was to deceive the public rather than to amuse them.

There seemed, indeed, to be little ground for believing this romantic story to be true, and when it was made public it was immediately rent to pieces. One shrewd critic, in particular, tore the veil aside, and in the pages of the Quarterly Review revealed the truth. He plainly showed the imposture, both by direct and collateral evidence, and traced the sham Stuarts through all the turnings of their tortuous lives. By him Commodore O'Haleran, who is said to have carried off the child, is shown to be Admiral Allen, who died in 1800, and who pretended to have certain claims to the earldom of Errol and the estates of the Hay family. This gentleman, it seems, had two sons, Captain John Allen and Lieutenant Thomas Allen, both of whom were officers in the navy. The younger of these, Thomas, was married on the 2d of October 1792 to Catherine Manning, the daughter of the Vicar of Godalming. In this gentleman, Lieutenant Thomas Allen, the reviewer declares the prototype of the mysterious "Red Eagle" may clearly be recognised; and he works his case out in this way:—The "Red Eagle" calls himself captain, and is seen in the story in connection with a man-of-war, and displaying remarkable powers of seamanship during a storm among the Hebrides; Thomas Allen was a lieutenant in the navy. The "Red Eagle" passed for the son of Admiral O'Haleran; Thomas Allen for the son of Admiral Carter Allen. The "Red Eagle" married Catherine Bruce, sometime after the summer of 1790; Thomas Allen married Catherine Manning in 1792. In the last of the three "Tales of the Century," Admiral O'Haleran and the mysterious guide of Dr. Beaton are represented as endeavouring to prevent the "Red Eagle" from injuring the prospects of his house by such a mesalliance as they considered his marriage with Catherine Bruce would be; and there is a scene in which the royal birth of the "Red Eagle" is spoken of without concealment, and in which the admiral begs his "foster son" not to destroy, by such a marriage, the last hope that was withering on his father's foreign tomb. In his will Admiral Allen bequeathed his whole fortune to his eldest son, and only left a legacy of L100 to Thomas; so that it may reasonably be inferred that his displeasure had been excited against his youngest born by some such event as an imprudent marriage. This Thomas Allen had two sons, of whom the elder published a volume of poems in 1822, to which he put his name as John Hay Allen, Esq.; while the marriage of the other is noted in Blackwood's Magazine for the same year, when he figures as "Charles Stuart, youngest son of Thomas Hay Allen, Esq." These are the gentlemen who, more than twenty years later, placed their names to the "Tales of the Century," and styled themselves John Sobieski Stuart and Charles Edward Stuart, thus seeking to persuade the world that they were the direct heirs of Prince Charlie.

There can be no doubt as to their motive; but is it probable, or even possible, that the occurrences which they describe with so much minuteness could ever have taken place? The imaginary Dr. Beaton's story as to the birth is altogether uncorroborated. What became of the attendants on the Princess Louisa, of the lady who was in the bed-chamber, of the nurse who held the child in her arms, and of the little page who announced the advent of the royal heir to the mysterious guide? They knew the nature of the important event which is said to have taken place, yet they all died with sealed lips, nor, even "in the service of the king," revealed the fact that an heir had been born. The officers and crew of the frigate, also, must have gossiped about the commodore's midnight adventure, and the strange shipment of a lady and child off the Italian coast on a moonlight night; but not one of them ever gave a sign or betrayed the fact. Such secrecy is, to say the least, very unusual. Then, returning to Prince Charlie himself, it is indisputable that when his wife left him in disgust in 1780, he had no recourse to his imaginary son to cheer his old age, but turned instinctively to Charlotte Stuart, his illegitimate child, for sympathy. In July 1784 he executed a deed, with all the necessary forms, legitimating this person, and bestowing upon her the title of Albany, by which he had himself been known for fourteen years, with the rank of duchess. To legitimate his natural daughter, and give her the reversion of his own title, was very unlike the action of a pseudo-king who had a lawful son alive. In 1784, also, when the pretender executed his will, he left this same Duchess of Albany, of his own constitution, all that he possessed, with the exception of a small bequest to his brother the cardinal, and a few trifling legacies to his attendants. To the duchess he bequeathed his palace at Florence, with all its rich furniture, all his plate and jewels, including those brought into the family by his mother, the Princess Clementina Sobieski, and also such of the crown jewels of England as had been conveyed to the continent by James II. If the claimant to the British throne had had a son, would he have alienated from him not only his Italian residence and the Polish jewels which he inherited from his mother, but also the crown jewels of England, which had come into his possession as the descendant of a king, and which were, by the same right, the inalienable property of his legitimate son?

The Duchess of Albany very evidently knew nothing of the existence of her supposed half-brother. She survived her father Prince Charles Edward for two years. Before her decease she sent to the cardinal the whole of the crown jewels, and at her death she left him all her property, with the exception of an annuity to her mother, Miss Walkinshaw, who survived her for some time, and who was known in Jacobite circles as the Countess of Alberstroff.

The conduct of the Princess Louisa, the reputed mother of the child, was equally strange. When she left her old debauched husband, she found consolation in the friendship and intimacy of the poet Alfieri, who at his death left her his whole property. Cardinal York settled a handsome income upon her, and her second lover—a Frenchman, named Fabre—added to her store. She survived till 1824, when her alleged son must have been in his fifty-first year; yet at her death all her property, including the seal and the portrait of Prince Charles Edward, were left to her French admirer, and were by him bequeathed to an Italian sculptor.

Cardinal York, also, betrayed no knowledge that his brother ever had had a son. When Prince Charles Edward died the cardinal adopted all the form and etiquette usual in the residence of a monarch, and insisted upon its observance by his visitors, as well as by his own attendants. He published protests asserting his right to the British crown, and caused medals to be struck bearing his effigy, and an inscription wherein he is styled Henry the Ninth, King of Great Britain and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c., &c. This he neither could nor would have done had he been aware of the existence of his brother's son, who had a prior claim to his own. Moreover, when the Princess Louisa left her husband, he exerted himself to the utmost of his ability to serve her; carried her to Rome; and succeeded in procuring for her a suitable establishment from his brother. Surely, in return for his great services, she would have informed him of the existence of her son, if any such son had ever been born! When the pretender's health began to give way Cardinal York was among the first to hasten to his assistance, and, discarding all previous disagreements, renewed his friendship with him, and persuaded him to make his home in Rome for the last two years of his life. Yet Prince Charles in his old age, and with death before his eyes, never revealed the secret of St. Rosalie to his brother, but permitted him to assume a title to which he had not the shadow of a claim. In his will also, Cardinal York betrays his ignorance of any heir of his brother, and bequeaths his possessions to the missionary funds of the Romish Church. Dr. Beaton alone seems to have been worthy of trust.

As far as Admiral Allen is concerned, it is not only unproven that he was a Tory or a Jacobite, but it is almost certainly shown that he was a Whig, and would have been a very unlikely person to be entrusted either with the secrets, or the heir, of Prince Charlie. Had Charles Edward been in a situation to confide so delicate a trust to any one, it is impossible to conceive that he would have selected any other than one of his staunchest adherents; yet John and Charles Hay Allen ask the public to believe that the charge was entrusted to one whose political relations seem to have been with the opposite party. They declare that the "Red Eagle" was aware of his real parentage prior to 1790; yet in the notice of Thomas Allen's marriage, which occurred two years later, he is expressly described as the son of Admiral Allen, and in the admiral's will he is distinctly mentioned as his son. As the reviewer, who has been quoted so freely, remarks: "What conceivable motive could induce the officer entrusted by Charles Edward with the care of the only hope of the House of Stuart to leave in his will, and that will, too, executed in the year of his death, a flat denial of the royal birth of his illustrious ward? The fact is utterly irreconcilable with the existence of such a secret, and appears absolutely conclusive. There was no occasion for the admiral stating in his will whose son Thomas Allen was. He might have left him L100 without any allusion to his parentage; but when he deliberately, and, as lawyers say, in intuitu mortis, assures us that this gentleman, the father of those who assume names so directly indicative of royal pretensions, was his own son, we are inclined to give him credit for a clearer knowledge of the truth than any now alive can possess."

Such is the story, and such is its refutation. It has had many believers and many critics. That it was advanced in earnest there can be no doubt, and the pretenders were well known in London circles. The elder of them, "John Sobieski Stuart," died in February 1872; but before his decease solemnly appointed his successor, and passed his supposed royal birthright to a younger member of the same family—a birthright which is worthless and vain.



JOHN HATFIELD—THE SHAM HONOURABLE ALEXANDER HOPE.

In the latter half of last century a farmer in one of the northern counties had in his house a very pretty girl, who passed as his daughter, and who supposed that he was her father. The damsel was industrious and virtuous as well as beautiful, and as she grew to maturity had many applicants for her hand. At last, as it became apparent that she would not long remain disengaged or single, her reputed father explained to her that she was not his daughter, but was an illegitimate child of Lord Robert Manners, who had all along paid for her support, and who was disposed to grant her a wedding portion of L1000, provided she married with his sanction. The news soon spread, and the rustic beauty became a greater toast than ever when it was known that she was also an heiress. Among others who heard of her sudden accession to fortune was a young fellow called John Hatfield, then employed as a traveller by a neighbouring linen-draper. He lost no time in paying his respects at the farm-house, or in enrolling himself in the number of her suitors, and succeeded so well that he not only gained the affections of the girl, but also the goodwill of the farmer, who wrote to Lord Robert Manners, informing him that Hatfield held a good position and had considerable expectations, and that he was anxious to marry his daughter, but would only do so on condition that her relatives approved of the union. Thereupon his lordship sent for the lover, and, believing his representations to be true, gave his consent at the first interview, and on the day after the marriage presented the bridegroom with L1500.

The fellow was in reality a great scamp. A short time after he got the money he set out for London, purchased a carriage, frequented the most famous coffee-houses, and represented himself to be a near relation of the Rutland family, and the possessor of large estates in Yorkshire. The marriage portion was soon exhausted, and when he had borrowed from every person who would lend him money he disappeared from the fashionable world as abruptly as he had entered it. Little was heard of his movements for several years, when he suddenly turned up again as boastful, if not as resplendent, as ever. By this time his wife had borne three daughters to him; but he regarded both her and them as hateful encumbrances, and deserted them, leaving them to be supported by the precarious charity of her relations. The poor woman did not long survive his ill-usage and neglect, and died in 1782. Hatfield himself found great difficulty in raising money, and was, at last, thrown into the King's Bench prison for a debt of L160. Here he was very miserable, and was in such absolute destitution that he excited the pity of some of his former associates and victims who had retained sufficient to pay their jail expenses, and they often invited him to dinner and supplied him with food. He never lost his assurance; and, although he was perfectly well aware that his real character was known, still continued to boast of his kennels, of his Yorkshire park, and of his estate in Rutlandshire, which he asserted was settled upon his wife; and usually wound up his complaint by observing how annoying it was that a gentleman who at that very time had thirty men engaged in beautifying his Yorkshire property should be locked up in a filthy jail, by a miserable tradesman, for a paltry debt.

Among others to whom he told this cock-and-bull story was a clergyman who came to the prison to visit Valentine Morris, the ex-governor of St. Vincent, who was then one of the inmates; and he succeeded in persuading the unsuspecting divine to visit the Duke of Rutland, and lay his case before him as that of a near relative. Of course the duke repudiated all connection with him, and all recollection of him; but a day or two later, when he remembered that he was the man who had married the natural daughter of Lord Robert Manners, he sent L200 and had him released.

Such a benefactor was not to be lost sight of. The duke was appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland in 1784, and had scarcely landed in Dublin when Hatfield followed him to that city. On his arrival he engaged a splendid suite of apartments in a first-rate hotel, fared sumptuously, and represented himself as nearly allied to the viceroy; but said that he could not appear at the castle until his horses, carriages, and servants arrived from England. The Yorkshire park, the Rutlandshire estate, and the thirty industrious labourers were all impressed into his service once more, and the landlord allowed him to have what he liked. When the suspicions of Boniface were aroused by the non-arrival of the equipages and attendants he presented his bill. Hatfield assured him that his money was perfectly safe, and that luckily his agent, who collected the rents of his estate in the north of England, was then in Ireland, and would give him all needful information. The landlord called upon this gentleman, whose name had been given to him, and presented his account, but of course without success; and Hatfield was thrown in the Marshalsea jail by the indignant landlord. By this time he was thoroughly familiar with the mysteries of prison life as it then existed, and had scarcely seated himself in his new lodging when he visited the jailer's wife and informed her of the relationship in which he stood to the lord-lieutenant. The woman believed him, gave him the best accommodation she could, and allowed him to sit at her table for three weeks. During this time he sent another petition to the new viceroy, who, fearing lest his own reputation should suffer, released him, and was only too glad to ship him off to Holyhead.

He next showed himself at Scarborough in 1792, and succeeded in introducing himself to some of the local gentry, to whom he hinted that at the next general election he would be made one of the representatives of the town through the influence of the Duke of Rutland. His inability to pay his hotel bill, however, led to his exposure, and he was obliged to flee to London, where he was again arrested for debt. This time the wheel of Fortune turned but slowly in his favour. He lingered in jail for eight years and a-half, when a Miss Nation, of Devonshire, to whom he had become known, paid his debts, took him from prison, and married him.

Abandoning his Rutlandshire pretensions, he now devoted himself to business, and persuaded a Devonshire firm, who knew nothing of his antecedents, to take him into partnership, and also ingratiated himself with a clergyman, who accepted his drafts for a large amount. Thus supplied with ready money he returned to London, where he lived in splendid style, and even went so far as to aspire to a seat in the House of Commons. For a time all appeared to go well; but suspicions gradually arose with regard to his character and his resources, and he was declared a bankrupt. Deserting his wife and her two children, he fled from his creditors. For some time nothing was heard of him, but in July 1802 he arrived in Keswick, in a carriage, but without any servant, and assumed the name of the Honourable Alexander Augustus Hope, brother of the Earl of Hopetoun, and member of Parliament for Linlithgow.

In his wanderings he became acquainted with an old couple called Robinson, who kept a little hostelry on the shore of the Lake of Buttermere, and who had one daughter who was locally known as "The Beauty of Buttermere." The handsome colonel at once began to lay siege to this girl's heart, and was the less loth to do so because it was rumoured that old Robinson had saved a considerable sum during a long lifetime. But with his usual prudence, he thought it well to have two strings to his bow, and finding that there was an Irish officer in Keswick who had a ward of good family and fortune, and of great personal attractions, he procured an introduction as the Honourable Colonel Hope of the 14th regiment of foot. He failed with the ward, but he was more successful with the Irishman's daughter. Her consent was given, the trousseau was ordered, and the wedding-day was fixed. But the lady would not agree to a secret ceremony, and insisted that he should announce his intended nuptials both to her own and his friends. This he agreed to do, and pretended to write letters apprising his brother, and even proposed a visit to Lord Hopetoun's seat. The bride's suspicions were, however, roused by the strange air of concealment and mystery which surrounded her intended husband; the desired answers to his letters came not, and she refused to resign either herself or her fortune into his keeping.

Thus baffled, he devoted all his attention to pretty Mary Robinson, and found her less reluctant to unite her lot with that of such a distinguished individual as Colonel Hope. The inquiries this time were all on the gallant officer's side, and it was only when he found that the reports as to old Robinson's wealth were well founded that he led her to the altar of Lorton church, on the 2d of October 1802.

On the day before the wedding the soi-disant Colonel Hope wrote to a gentleman of his acquaintance, informing him that he was under the necessity of being absent for ten days on a journey into Scotland, and enclosing a draft for thirty pounds, drawn on a Mr. Crumpt of Liverpool, which he desired him to cash and pay some small debts in Keswick with it, and send him over the balance, as he was afraid he might be short of money on the road. This was done; and the gentleman sent him at the same time an additional ten pounds, lest unexpected demands should be made upon his purse in his absence.

The Keswick folks were naturally astonished when they learned two days later that the colonel, who had been paying his addresses to the daughter of the Irish officer, had married "The Beauty of Buttermere," and the confiding friend who had sent him the money at once despatched the draft to Liverpool. Mr. Crumpt immediately accepted it, believing that it came from the real Colonel Hope, whom he knew very well. Meantime, instead of paying his proposed journey to Scotland Hatfield stopped at Longtown, where he received two letters, by which he seemed much disturbed, and returned after three days' absence to Buttermere. Some friends of the real colonel, chancing to hear of his marriage, paused on their way through Cumberland, at Keswick, and wrote to their supposed acquaintance, asking him to come and visit them. Hatfield went in a carriage and four, and had an interview with the gentlemen, but flatly denied that he had ever assumed Colonel Hope's name. He said his name was Hope, but that he was not the member for Linlithgow. It was notorious, however, that he had been in the habit of franking his letters with Colonel Hope's name, and he was handed over to a constable. He contrived to escape, and fled first to Chester and subsequently to Swansea, where he was recaptured.