Claimants to Royalty Part 10

Probably the most important event, however, that happened to him during his stay at the Indian settlement occurred when he was supposed to be about fourteen. Up to that period he had been not far removed from an idiot, when having been accidentally struck on the head by a stone, his intelligence and memory were suddenly restored. Eleazar now recalled to mind visions of the past, especially recollecting a beautiful lady, attired in a splendid dress with train, and who had been accustomed to take him on her knees and play with him. Other reminiscences of a less pleasing nature were called to mind, including the figure of a threatening, ign.o.ble, and terrible man, undoubtedly that of Simon; for when a portrait of the infamous cobbler was shown to Eleazar, he recognised it with horror.

One night Eleazar overheard a conversation between his reputed parents which revealed to him the fact that he was not their own, but only their adopted, child; but the circ.u.mstances did not, apparently, make any strong impression upon his mind, as he soon forgot it until after events recalled it. Eventually, he was sent to school at a village in Ma.s.sachusetts, in the company of John, one of his reputed brothers.

John could not be done much with, and returned to his Indian life, but Eleazar made good progress in his studies, became very devout, and acquired the cognomen of "the plausible boy."

Years pa.s.sed by, and "the plausible boy" became a plausible man, in his time playing many parts, some of which were scarcely worthy of the descendant of a hundred kings, or even of a Christian missionary, which was the _role_ he now chiefly a.s.sumed. Sometimes he was an Indian chieftain, sometimes a military spy; at one time one thing, at another time another; but through all, as he firmly believed, and as his countenance betrayed, and as the marks on his body testified, he was "the Lost Prince," the dauphin who was supposed to have perished in the Temple. If he had had any doubts left on this matter, they were all removed, according to his own account (and numbers of his faithful adherents believed in him implicitly), in October 1841, in an interview he had with the Prince de Joinville, who chanced to be travelling in the United States that year. According to the account furnished by the Rev. Eleazar Williams, who by this time appears to have taken to the missionary avocation permanently, he happened to be on board the same steamer as the French prince, who after having made inquiries about him of the captain, requested the honour of an interview. This Eleazar affably granted, and De Joinville was brought to him. "I was sitting at the time on a barrel," says plausible Eleazar; "the prince not only started with evident and involuntary surprise when he saw me, but there was great agitation in his face and manner--a slight paleness and a quivering of the lips--which I could not help remarking at the time, but which struck me more forcibly afterwards ... by contrast with his usual self-possessed manner." After paying Eleazar an amount of respect that quite surprised that plausible priest, and astonished everybody about them, the prince, upon landing at Green Bay, desired the honour of a private conversation with him at the hotel. To this request Eleazar consented, and according to his account, the interview, which was carried on in English, the prince speaking that language fluently, but a little broken, indeed, as did Eleazar himself, yet quite intelligibly, resulted in De Joinville acknowledging that the missionary was indeed the veritable dauphin, the Duke of Normandy, the legitimate heir to the crown of France and Navarre; but requesting him to solemnly resign all his rights and t.i.tles in favour of Louis Philippe, upon condition that a princely establishment should be secured to him either in America or France, at his option, and "that Louis Philippe would pledge himself on his part to secure the restoration, or an equivalent for it, of all the private property of the royal family rightfully belonging to me" [_i.e._ Eleazar Williams], "which had been confiscated in France during the revolution, or in any way got into other hands." But Eleazar's ancestral pride was aroused, and after informing De Joinville that he would not be the instrument of bartering away with his own hand the rights pertaining to him by birth, and sacrificing the interests of his family, he concluded by remarking that he could only give the prince the answer which De Provence gave Napoleon's envoy at Warsaw:--"Though I am in poverty and exile, I will not sacrifice my honour!"

Upon receiving this reply the prince loudly accused his guest of ingrat.i.tude for thus rejecting the overtures of the king, his father, who, he declared, was only actuated by kindness and pity, as his claim to the French throne rested on an entirely different basis to Eleazar's; that is to say, not that of hereditary descent, but of popular election. "When he spoke in this strain," avers Eleazar, "I spoke loud also, and said that as he, by his disclosure, had put me in the position of a superior, I must a.s.sume that position, and frankly say that my indignation was stirred by the memory that one of the family of Orleans had imbued his hands in my father's blood, and that another now wished to obtain from me an abdication of the throne."

"When I spoke of superiority," says Eleazar, "the prince immediately a.s.sumed a respectful att.i.tude, and remained silent for several minutes." On the following day, says "the plausible," he saw the prince again, who, finding his renewed efforts to shake the determination of the dauphin not to resign his hereditary t.i.tles were vain, bade him good-bye with the words, "Though we part, I hope we part friends."

Probably the strangest, if not the most ludicrous portion of this story is, that Prince de Joinville deemed it requisite to publicly deny "plausible" Eleazar's little romance, and to declare it to be a tissue of lies, from beginning to end, and nothing but "a speculation upon the public credulity."

THE PRETENDED PRINCESS OE c.u.mBERLAND, ENGLAND.

1866.

Of all the wild stories which have been concocted by pretenders to regal lineage, none that has obtained any public notice has been so utterly absurd in its developments as that told by Lavinia Janneta Horton Ryves. In 1866 this individual, the daughter of Mr. Serres, an artist, and the wife of a Mr. Ryves, actually brought her claim to be recognized as Princess of c.u.mberland into a court of law. According to the statement which Mrs. Ryves made through her counsel, and which, indeed, was only a recapitulation of what had already appeared in various periodicals, her grandmother Olive had been married to the Duke of c.u.mberland, brother of George the Third, and had had the marriage acknowledged by that monarch. This statement was supported by several doc.u.ments purporting to be signed by King George, and several other persons of exalted position, but which were characterized by the prosecution as impudent forgeries, the production, apparently, of Mrs.

Serres, and the jury would seem to have taken the same view of their nature.

The story _in extenso_ was this: the Rev. Dr. James Wilmot, of Barton-on-the-Heath, Warwickshire, met and became enamoured of the sister of Count Poniatowski, subsequently King of Poland. Dr. Wilmot married this Polish lady, but, in order to retain his Fellowship, kept the marriage a profound secret. One child, Olive, a very beautiful girl, was the sole issue of this love match. When this lovely daughter was seventeen years of age, she was seen at a n.o.bleman's house by the Duke of c.u.mberland, fallen in love with, and after a very brief courtship married by the prince. This marriage, which was alleged to have been celebrated by the bride's father, Dr. Wilmot, on March 4th, 1767, was also a secret one. On the 3rd of April, 1772, a daughter, christened after her mother, Olive, was born of this clandestine union; but, previous to the interesting event, the Duke of c.u.mberland, availing himself of the secrecy of his first marriage, actually committed bigamy by taking unto himself a second wife, in the person of Lady Anne Horton, sister of the infamous Colonel Luttrel. The second Olive, according to the testimony of the claimant, was first baptized as daughter of the Duke of c.u.mberland, and then, by command of George the Third, in order to preserve her royal father from the penalty of bigamy, was again baptized at another church as the daughter of Robert Wilmot (Dr. Wilmot's brother), and Anna Maria his wife. A certificate to this effect was produced, purporting to be signed by the two Wilmot brothers and the Earl of Warwick, and as means of the child Olive's future identification it was certified that she had "a large mole on the right side, and another crimson mark upon the back near the neck."

The so-called "Princess of c.u.mberland" died in France, on the 5th of December, 1774, and, according to Dr. Wilmot's supposed certificate, "in the prime of life of a broken heart," evidently caused by her royal husband's desertion of her. George the Third was perfectly cognizant of his brother c.u.mberland's union with Olive Wilmot, and was therefore deeply indignant at his heartless behaviour; but as, according to another portion of the claimant's story, he had contracted a similar bigamous union himself, he was necessarily compelled to keep quiet about the occurrence. However, in order to compensate his little niece in some way for her loss of birthright, he not only allowed her putative parents five hundred pounds per annum for her support, but placed in their hands the following acknowledgment of her claims to royalty.

"George R.--We hereby are pleased to create Olive of c.u.mberland d.u.c.h.ess of Lancaster, and to grant our royal authority for Olive, our said niece, to bear and use the t.i.tle and arms of Lancaster, should she be in existence at the period of our royal demise.

"Given at our Palace of St. James's, May 17th, 1773.

"CHATHAM, "J. DUNNING."

When about seventeen this "d.u.c.h.ess of Lancaster" _in petto_ came to London, and made the acquaintance of John Thomas Serres, proprietor of the Coburg Theatre, and son of a royal academician. Upon the 1st of September, 1792, this descendant of the sovereigns of England and Poland was married to Mr. Serres, but, as might be antic.i.p.ated, the union was not a very happy one, and in 1803 a separation took place.

Of the four children who were issue of this marriage, two daughters grew up, one of whom, Lavinia, born in 1797, remained with her mother, whilst the other went with her father. Mrs. Serres, who became an author and artist, and published a book to prove that the _Letters of Junius_ were written by Dr. James Wilmot, would appear to have been somewhat crazed, at least towards the latter part of her life. She a.s.sumed the t.i.tle of Princess of c.u.mberland, and brought up her daughter Lavinia in the belief that she was of royal lineage. Dr.

Wilmot, who died in 1807, at the advanced age of eighty-five, was supposed to have left his daughter the following remarkable doc.u.ment:--

"MY DEAR OLIVE,--As the undoubted heir of Augustus, King of Poland, your rights will find aid of the sovereigns that you are allied to by blood, should the family of your father act unjustly; but may the great Disposer of all things direct otherwise. The Princess of Poland, your grandmother, I made my lawful wife, and I do solemnly attest that you are the last of that ill.u.s.trious blood. May the Almighty guide you to all your distinctions of birth! Mine has been a life of trial, but not of crime!"

J. WILMOT.

"_January_ 1791."

It was not until 1815, according to the evidence given by Mrs. Ryves at the trial, that her mother knew anything of her royal parentage, she having been brought up in the belief that she was the daughter of Robert Wilmot, Dr. Wilmot's brother. When the wonderful information was conveyed to her, through the instrumentality of the Earl of Warwick, she took the t.i.tle of Princess, and, so said the witness, was even acknowledged by the Duke of Kent and other members of the royal family as a relative. The Duke of Kent, so it was alleged, even granted to the _soi disant_ princess one-third of his Canadian estates, binding himself, his heirs, and executors to a solemn observance of the covenant, and promised to see her reinstated in her royal rights. In 1818 he further bound himself, his heirs, executors, and a.s.signs (according to the claimant's story), to pay the Princess Olive an annuity of four hundred pounds; and this annuity, so it was averred, was duly paid until the Duke's demise, after which event it was not continued. Indeed, such trust did the Duke of Kent repose in the "Princess Olive," if the doc.u.ments produced might be relied on, that he const.i.tuted her guardian of his daughter Alexandrina (our present Majesty), and directress of her education, on account of her relationship, and because the d.u.c.h.ess of Kent was not familiar with English modes of education. Out of respect for a mother's feelings, the "Princess Olive," as her daughter explained, did not attempt to execute this desire of her deceased cousin of Kent.

So thoroughly were the "Princess Olive's" royal claims ventilated that, it is averred, she was entertained at the civic banquet at the Guildhall, on the 9th of November, 1820, and permitted, or invited, by the Lord Mayor (Alderman Thorpe), to occupy one of the seats usually a.s.signed to members of the royal family. In 1834 the putative princess, otherwise Mrs. Serres, died, leaving her claims as an inheritance to her daughter Lavinia Jannetta Horton, then the wife of Mr. Anthony Thomas Ryves, and the mother of several children. The personal appearance of Mrs. Ryves, so believers in her claims a.s.serted, was greatly in favour of her alleged descent from the royal family; but, unfortunately for her pretensions, neither judge nor jury would admit such supposed resemblance as evidence.

In replying on the remarkable statements made at the trial, the Attorney-General ruthlessly demolished the whole fabric of the "c.u.mberland romance." He did not impute aught to Mrs. Ryves more than that having brooded over the matter for so many years she had at last persuaded herself of the truth of the fiction she was representing; but Mrs. Serres, he suggested, was really the concocter of the whole scheme. True it was, contended Sir Roundell Palmer, that the pet.i.tioner's mother, Mrs. Serres, was not quite responsible for her actions, so many of them having been of an ultra-eccentric character.

He described several of her crazy words and deeds, and showed how she had varied her tale from time to time; at first only claiming to be an illegitimate scion of the royal stock, and first making claims to regal legitimacy in a time of great public agitation--at the period of Queen Caroline's trial. Indeed, said the Attorney-General, a revolution was threatened by the deceased claimant if her pretensions were not recognized within a few hours.

The jury were unanimous, and immediately p.r.o.nounced against the claims of the pet.i.tioner, Mrs. Ryves, whose wonderful doc.u.ments and marvellous certificates were all ordered to be impounded. Since that trial, the claims of Mrs. Ryves and her offspring appear to have pa.s.sed into oblivion.

JOHN SOBIESKI AND CHARLES EDWARD STUART, "COUNTS OF ALBANY," OF ENGLAND.

1847-1880.

The story of Prince Charles Edward Stuart, the "bonnie Prince Charlie"

of song, is too well known to need recapitulation here. That he died in 1788, without leaving any legitimate offspring, is a fact equally well known; as also that his brother Henry Stuart, Cardinal York, who died in 1807, was the last of his ill-fated race. Notwithstanding the incontrovertible nature of these circ.u.mstances, attempts have been made within the last thirty or forty years to prove that Prince Charles did leave a legitimate son, the child of his wife the Princess Louisa; and that two brothers, who until quite recently were residing in London under the pseudonyms of "Counts d'Albanie," were the children of this unknown royal prince, and therefore grandchildren of "Charles the Third."

This myth was first publicly propagated in a work ent.i.tled "Tales of the Century; or, Sketches of the Romance of History between the years 1746 and 1846," published in 1847, and purporting to be by "John Sobieski and Charles Edward Stuart." Some suggestive hints, it is true, had been thrown out as early as 1822, in a volume of poems by one of these brothers; but that book was published as by "John Hay Allen,"

and no definite a.s.sumption of royal lineage would appear to have been made until the Edinburgh publication of 1847. According to the legend detailed in the three sections into which the work was divided, in 1831 an ancient medical man, of extreme Jacobite views, finding himself dying, confided to a young Highland gentleman, who was visiting him in London, the long-h.o.a.rded secret that the Gaels "have yet a king." The young Scotchman is naturally inquisitive as to the meaning of this mysterious communication, and has his curiosity gratified by a recital of the following romantic story by Dr. Beaton.

According to that deceased gentleman, he chanced to be making a tour in Italy, in 1773, and as he was walking along the road from Parma to Florence, he was startled by the pa.s.sing of a carriage with scarlet outriders. On glancing into the conveyance he was still more startled by beholding the not-to-be-forgotten countenance of his beloved "Prince Charlie," seated by a lady's side. On the evening of the same day, whilst meditating on what he had seen, he was accosted by a man of military appearance, and asked whether he was Dr. Beaton, the Scotch physician. On replying in the affirmative, he was informed that his immediate attendance was required in a case of urgency, and all his questions as to the nature of the patient's malady were disposed of in a very unceremonious manner. His reluctance to be blindfolded before entering a carriage that was in waiting was overcome by the intimation that it was on behalf of him whom both recognised as their royal chief, that is to say, Prince Charles.

After the usual style of such mystic tales, Dr. Beaton was taken to a secluded palace, and after being led through the usual corridors and apartments of such abodes, had his mask removed, and was permitted to inspect the magnificent chamber into which he had been inducted. His conductor did not allow much time for investigation, but rang a silver bell, and his summons being responded to by a little page in scarlet, he was enabled to inform the doctor, after a short conversation in German with the boy, that the _accouchement_ of the lady he had been called in to attend, owing to the absence of her own regular medical attendant, was over, and apparently "without more than exhaustion."

The news communicated through so uncustomary a channel was followed by the request that he would render such services as were necessary. He was taken into a gorgeous bedroom, where a lady who spoke English led him towards the bed, wherein he beheld the face of the lady he had seen in the carriage with Prince Charles, whilst by the bedside was a woman holding the newly-born babe wrapped in a mantle. The patient was in a somewhat critical condition, so Dr. Beaton hastily turned to a writing-table near at hand to write a prescription for her, and in so doing beheld among the trinkets on the table a miniature of Prince Charles, attired in the very uniform the doctor had seen him in at Culloden. The lady who had spoken English approached the table as if looking for something, and when Beaton looked again, the portrait had been turned on its face. Having performed his duties, the doctor was persuaded to take an oath on a 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;" he was, also, desired to leave Tuscany that night, and then conducted from the dwelling in the same needlessly mysterious manner as he had been taken to it.

The doctor obeyed his injunctions to the letter, and at once departed from the neighbourhood. A few days later he arrived at a certain seaport, and one night, soon after his arrival, he was strolling along the beach when his attention was attracted by an English-looking vessel anch.o.r.ed off the coast. Upon inquiry this proved to be the _Albina_, an English frigate, commanded by Commodore O'Haleran. Whilst he was watching the vessel he beheld a small close carriage, accompanied by a horseman, whom he recognized as his guide on the night he was conducted to the residence of Prince Charles. His curiosity aroused by this singular coincidence, he stopped to watch what happened, and beheld a lady, bearing a babe in her arms, descend from the mysterious vehicle.

This lady and her infantile charge were then conveyed on board the frigate, and no sooner had they got on board than the vessel hoisted sail and slowly disappeared. The babe, it is implied, was the legitimate son and heir of Prince Charles, thus mysteriously smuggled off in order to preserve it from the machinations of the English government.

Many years are supposed to have elapsed, and the boy born at St.

Rosalie, in 1773, is next introduced as a grown man bearing the name of Captain O'Haleran, and supposed to be the son of the admiral formerly introduced as the commodore of that name. This individual creates no slight sensation in the Highlands by his supposed resemblance to the unforgotten Prince Charlie, whose eagle eye and Stuart features he is said to have; one ancient chieftain, indeed, of somewhat clouded mind, when he beholds the mysterious stranger, who is known by the cognomen of the "Red Eagle," addresses him as "Prince Charles," and reminds his Royal Highness that their last meeting was at the fatal fight of Culloden. Moreover, to make the reader understand the personage's rank beyond all question, his French attendant styles him "Monseigneur," and "Son Altesse Royal." In the final section of this fiction, the "Red Eagle" makes a misalliance by marrying an unt.i.tled English lady, and becomes the father, it is natural to infer, of the two individuals whose names figure on the t.i.tle-page of _Tales of the Century_.

The reader must not imagine that this marvellous romance was intended to be regarded as myth; every effort was made to persuade the public into accepting it as fact, and as fact several persons in Great Britain and abroad have accepted it. But in the _Quarterly Review_ for June 1847, the whole story was thoroughly a.n.a.lysed and ruthlessly demolished by some one conversant with all the bearings of the whole case. He undeniably proved that the implied son of Prince Charles was no other than Thomas, younger son of Admiral Allen, and himself an officer in the Navy, who married, in 1792, Catherine Manning, a clergyman's daughter; that in his will Admiral Allen termed him his son, and that the sons of this Thomas Allen, the _soi disant_ "John Sobieski and Charles Edward Stuart," had respectively published a volume of poems, and had taken a wife in their proper names of Allen, thus completely ignoring their pretended royal ancestry.

Even had not direct testimony been forthcoming, the circ.u.mstantial evidence against the allegation that Prince Charles had left a legitimate child is so strong that no amount of "Romance of History"

could upset it. In his latter days, when separated from his wife, the Princess Louisa, Prince Charles sent for his illegitimate daughter by Miss Walkinshaw; created her d.u.c.h.ess of Albany, made her mistress of his household, and left her by will almost everything that he possessed, including such family jewels and plate as were still in his possession. Not only did he omit to make any provision for, or the slightest bequest to, his supposed son and heir, but, what is still less comprehensible, neither did the Princess Louisa, the child's mother, ever appear to make any inquiry after it; nor when she died in 1824, when this pretended son must have been fifty years of age, did she give any sign that she was aware of his existence; nor did he, this son, come forward at any period of time to prove his birth and a.s.sert his parentage. After the death of Prince Charles, who, from the time of his father's decease, had borne the t.i.tle of King of England, his brother, clearly ignorant of the existence of a nearer claimant to the distinction, also a.s.sumed the royal t.i.tle, and caused himself to be addressed as a sovereign, and styled "Henry the Ninth, King of Great Britain and Ireland."

Many other proofs could be furnished of the utterly baseless nature of the claims of these pretenders to royalty, but it is needless; should any one desire to peruse a fuller exposition of this romance he may be referred to the number of the _Quarterly Review_ already alluded to.

"John Sobieski Stuart," the elder of these claimants, died in February 1872, leaving no issue; but the younger brother, the pretended "Charles Edward Stuart," who is alleged to have received the cross of the Legion d' Honneur from the hands of the first Napoleon for bravery on the field of Waterloo, died on Christmas Eve, 1880, leaving several grown-up children, all of whom, it is believed, have a.s.sumed the pseudonym of "Stuart" and sham t.i.tle of "d'Albany."

Hazell, Watson, and Viney, Printers, London and Aylesbury.