Part 5

Ample scope was, therefore, left for the curiosity and credulity of the inhabitants of Martinique, who at this time were closely blockaded by the English, and were sadly in want of some excitement to relieve the monotony of their lives. Every rumour respecting the stranger was eagerly caught up and assiduously disseminated by a thousand gossips, and, as statement after statement and canard after canard got abroad, he rose higher and higher in popular repute. No one doubted that he was at least a prince; and why he had elected to come to Martinique at such an inconvenient season nobody stopped to inquire.

As far as could be made out from the disjointed stories which were afloat, this mysterious individual had been seen to arrive at Rochelle some time before the date of his embarkation. He was then accompanied by an old man, who acted as a sort of mentor. On their arrival they established themselves in private lodgings, in which the youth remained secluded, while his aged friend frequented the quays on the look-out for a ship to convey his companion to his destination. When one was at last found he embarked, leaving his furniture as a present to his landlady, and generally giving himself the air of a man of vast property, although at the time possessed of very slender resources; and that he really was a person of distinction and wealth the colonists were prepared to believe. They only awaited the time when he chose to reveal himself to receive him with acclamations.

After treating him hospitably for some time, Duval Ferrol precipitated matters by informing his strange guest, that as he did not know anything of his past life, and was himself only a subaltern, he had been under the necessity of informing his superior officers of his presence, and that the king's lieutenant who commanded at Port Maria desired to see him. The young man immediately complied with this request, and presented himself to the governor as the Count de Tarnaud. M. Nadau (for such was the name of this official) had of course heard the floating rumours, and was resolved to penetrate the mystery. He therefore received his visitor with empressement, and offered him his hospitality. The offer was accepted, but again rather as a matter of right than of generosity, and the young count and Rhodez became inmates of the house of the commandant.

Two days after young Tarnaud's removal to the dwelling of Nadau, the latter was entertaining some guests, when, just as they were sitting down to dinner, the count discovered that he had forgotten his handkerchief, on which Rhodez got up and fetched it. Such an occurrence would have passed without comment in France; but in Martinique, where slavery was predominant, and slaves were abundant, such an act of deference from one white man to another was noted, and served to strengthen the opinions which had already been formed respecting the stranger. During the course of the meal also, Nadau received a letter from his subordinate, Duval Ferrol, to the following effect:--"You wish for information relative to the French passenger who lodged with me some days; his signature will furnish more than I am able to give. I enclose a letter I have just received from him." This enclosure was merely a courteous and badly-composed expression of thanks; but it was signed Est, and not De Tarnaud. As soon as he could find a decent excuse, the excited commandant drew aside one of his more intimate friends, and communicated to him the surprising discovery which he had made, at the same time urging him to convey the information to the Marquis d'Eragny, who lived at no great distance. The marquis had not risen from table when the messenger arrived, and disclosed to those who were seated with him the news which he had just received. A reference to an official calendar or directory showed that Est was a princely name, and the company at once jumped to the conclusion that the mysterious stranger was no other than Hercules Renaud d'Est, hereditary Prince of Modena, and brother of the Duchess de Penthievre. The truth of this supposition was apparently capable of easy proof, for one of the company, named Bois-Ferme, the brother-in-law of the commandant, asserted that he was personally well acquainted with the prince, and could recognise him anywhere. Accordingly, after a few bottles of wine had been drunk, the whole company proceeded uproariously to Radau's, where Bois-Ferme (who was a notorious liar and braggart) effusively proclaimed the stranger to be the hereditary Prince of Modena. The disclosure thus boisterously made seemed to offend, rather than give pleasure to, the self-styled Count de Tarnaud, who, while not repudiating the title applied to him, expressed his dissatisfaction at the indiscretion which had revealed him to the public.

At this time the inhabitants of Martinique were in a very discontented and unhappy position. Their coast was closely blockaded by the English fleet, provisions were extremely scarce, and the necessities of the populace were utilised by unscrupulous officials who amassed riches by victimising those who had been placed under their authority. The Marquis de Caylus, governor of the Windward Islands, was one of the most rapacious of these harpies; and although, perhaps, he was more a tool in the hands of others than an independent actor, the feeling of the people was strong against him, and it was hoped that the newly-arrived prince would supersede him, and redress the grievances which his maladministration had created. Accordingly Nadau, who entertained a private spite against De Caylus, lost no time in representing the infamy of the marquis, and was comforted by the assurance of his youthful guest, that he would visit those who had abused the confidence of the king with the severest punishment, and not only so, but would place himself at the head of the islands to resist any attempt at invasion by the English.

These loyal and generous intentions, which Nadau did not fail to make public, increased the general enthusiasm, and rumours of the plot which was hatching reached Fort St. Pierre, where the Marquis de Caylus had his head-quarters. He at once sent a mandate to Nadau, ordering the stranger before him. A message of similar purport was also sent to the youth himself, addressed to the Count de Tarnaud. Upon receiving it he turned to the officers who had brought it, saying--"Tell your master that to the rest of the world I am the Count de Tarnaud, but that to him I am Hercules Renaud d'Est. If he wishes to see me let him come half-way. Let him repair to Fort Royal in four or five days. I will be there."

This bold reply seems to have completely disconcerted De Caylus. He had already heard of the stranger's striking resemblance to the Duchess de Penthievre, and the assumption of this haughty tone to an officer of his own rank staggered him. He set out for Fort Royal, but changed his mind on the way, and returned to St. Pierre. The prince, on the other hand, kept his appointment, and not finding the marquis, proceeded to Fort St. Pierre, which he entered in triumph, attended by seventeen or eighteen gentlemen. The governor caught a glimpse of him as he passed through the streets, and exclaimed "that he was the very image of his mother and sister," and in a panic quitted the town. Nothing could have been more fortunate than his flight. The prince assumed all the airs of royalty, and proceeded to establish a petty court, appointing state officers to wait upon him. The Marquis d'Eragny he created his grand equerry; Duval Ferrol and Laurent 'Dufont were his gentlemen-in-waiting; and the faithful Rhodez was constituted his page. Regular audiences were granted to those who came to pay their respects to him, or to present memorials or petitions, and for a time Martinique rejoiced in the new glory which this illustrious presence shed upon it.

It so happened that the Duc de Penthievre was the owner of considerable estates in the colony, which were under the care of a steward named Lievain. This man, who seems to have been a simple soul, no sooner heard of the arrival of his master's brother-in-law in the island than he hastened to offer him not only his respects, but, what was far better, the use of the cash which he held in trust for the duke. He was, of course, received with peculiar graciousness, and immediate advantage was taken of his timely offer. The prince was now supplied with means adequately to support the royal state which he had assumed, and the last lingering relics of suspicion were dissipated, for Lievain was known to be a thoroughly honest and conscientious man, and one well acquainted with his master's family and affairs, and it was surmised that he would not thus have committed himself unless he had had very good grounds for so doing.

On his arrival at St. Pierre the prince had taken up his quarters in the convent of the Jesuits; and now the Dominican friars, jealous of the honour conferred upon their rivals, besought a share of his royal favour, and asked him to become their guest. Nothing loth to gratify their amiable ambition, the prince changed his residence to their convent, in which he was entertained most sumptuously. Every day a table of thirty covers was laid for those whom he chose to invite; he dined in public--a fanfaronade of trumpets proclaiming his down-sitting and his up-rising--and the people thronged the banqueting-hall in such numbers that barriers had to be erected in the middle of it to keep the obtrusive multitude at a respectful distance.

Meanwhile vessels had left Martinique for France bearing the news of these strange proceedings to the mother country. The prince had written to his family, and had entrusted his letters to the captain of a merchantman who was recommended by Lievain. And the discomfited governor, the Marquis de Caylus, had forwarded a full account of the extraordinary affair to his government, and had demanded instructions. Six months passed away and no replies came. The prince pretended to be seriously discomposed by this prolonged silence, but amused himself in the meantime by defying M. de Caylus, by indulging in the wildest excesses, and by gratifying every absurd or licentious caprice which entered his head. But at last it became apparent that letters from France might arrive at any moment; the rainy season was approaching; the prince was apprehensive for his health; and the inhabitants had discovered by this time that their visitor was very costly. Accordingly, when he expressed his intention of returning to France, nobody opposed or gainsaid it; and, after a pleasant sojourn of seven months among the planters of Martinique, he embarked on board the "Raphael," bound for Bordeaux. His household accompanied him, and under a salute from the guns of the fort he sailed away.

A fortnight later the messenger whom the governor had despatched to France returned bearing orders to put his so-called highness in confinement. An answer was also sent to a letter which Lievain had forwarded to the Duc de Penthievre, and in it the simple-minded agent was severely censured for having so easily become the dupe of an impostor. At the same time he was informed that since his indiscretion was in part the result of his zeal to serve his master, and since he had only shared in a general folly, the duc was not disposed to deal harshly with him, but would retain his services and share the loss with him. This leniency, and the delay which had taken place, only served to confirm the inhabitants of Martinique in their previous belief, and they were more than ever convinced that the real Prince of Modena had been their guest, although neither his relatives nor the government were willing to admit that he had been guilty of such an escapade.

The "Raphael" in due course arrived at Faro, where her illustrious passenger was received with a salute by the Portuguese authorities. On landing, the prince demanded a courier to send to Madrid, to the charge d'affaires of the Duke of Modena, and also asked the means of conveying himself and his retinue to Seville, where he had resolved to await the return of his messenger. These facilities were obligingly afforded to him, and he arrived at Seville in safety. His fame had preceded him, and he was received with the most extravagant demonstrations of joy by the inhabitants. The susceptible donnas of the celebrated Spanish city adored this youthful scion of a royal house; sumptuous entertainments were prepared in his honour, and his praises were in every mouth. His courier came not, but instead there arrived an order for his arrest, which was communicated to him by the governor in person. He seemed much astonished, but resignedly answered, "I was born a sovereign as well as he: he has no control over me; but he is master here, and I shall yield to his commands."

His ready acquiescence in his inevitable fate was well thought of; and while it excited popular sympathy in his favour, rendered even those who were responsible for his safe-keeping anxious to serve him. Immediately on his apprehension he was conveyed to a small tower, which was occupied by a lieutenant and a few invalids, and very little restraint was placed upon his movements. His retinue were allowed to visit him, and every possible concession was made to his assumed rank. But he was far from content, and succeeded by a scheme in reaching the sanctuary of the Dominican convent. From this haven of refuge he could not legally be removed by force; but on the urgent representations of the authorities the Archbishop of Seville sanctioned his transfer, if it could be accomplished without bloodshed. A guard was despatched to remove him. No sooner, however, had the officer charged with the duty entered his apartment than the prince seized his sword, and protested that he would kill the first man that laid a finger upon him. The guard surrounded him with their bayonets, but he defended himself so valiantly that it became evident that he could not be captured without infringing the conditions laid down by the archbishop, and the soldiers were compelled to withdraw. Meanwhile news of what had been going on reached the populace, a crowd gathered, and popular feeling ran so high that the discomfited emissaries of the law reached their quarters with difficulty. This disturbance made the government more determined than ever to bring the affair to an issue. Negotiations were renewed with the Dominicans, who were now anxious to deliver up their guest, but his suspicions were aroused, and his capture had become no easy matter. He always went armed, slept at night with a brace of pistols under his pillow, and even at meal times placed one on either side of his plate. At last craft prevailed--a young monk, who had been detailed to wait upon him at dinner, succeeded in betraying him into an immoderate fit of laughter, and before he could recover himself, pinioned him and handed him over to the alguazils, who were in waiting in the next apartment. He was hurried to gaol, loaded with chains, and cast into a dungeon. After twenty-four hours' incarceration he was summoned for examination, but steadily refused to answer the questions of his judges. He was not, however, remitted to his former loathsome place of confinement, as might have been expected from his obstinacy, but was conveyed to the best apartment in the prison. His retinue were meanwhile examined relative to his supposed design of withdrawing Martinique from its allegiance to France. The result of these inquiries remained secret, but, without further trial, the prince was condemned to the galleys, or to labour in the king's fortifications in Africa, and his attendants were banished from the Spanish dominions.

In due time he was despatched to Cadiz to join the convict gangs sentenced to enforced labour at Ceuta. The whole garrison of Seville was kept under arms on the morning of his departure, to suppress any popular commotion, and resist any possible attempt at rescue. On his arrival at Cadiz he was conducted to Fort la Caragna, and handed over to the commandant, a sturdy Frenchman named Devau, who was told that he must treat the prisoner politely, but would be held answerable for his safe-keeping. Devau read these orders, and replied, "When I am made responsible for the safe custody of anybody, I know but one way of treating him, and that is to put him in irons." So the pseudo prince was ironed, until the convoy was ready to escort the prisoners to Ceuta. On the voyage the pretender was treated differently from the other galley-slaves, and on reaching his destination was placed under little restraint. He had full liberty to write to his friends, and availed himself of this permission to send a letter to Nadau, who had been ordered home to France to give an account of his conduct. In this document he mentioned the courtesy with which he was treated, and begged the Port Maria governor to accept a handsome pair of pistols which he sent as a souvenir. To Lievin, the Duc de Penthievre's agent, he also wrote, lamenting the losses which he had sustained, and promising to make them good at a future time. His prison, however, had not sufficient charms to retain his presence. He took the first opportunity of escaping, and having smuggled himself on board an English ship, arrived in the Bay of Gibraltar. The captain informed the governor of the fort that he had on board his ship the person who claimed to be the Prince of Modena, and that he demanded permission to land. A threat of immediate apprehension was sufficient to deter the refugee from again tempting the Spanish authorities: he remained on board; and the ship sailed on her voyage, carrying with her the prince, who was seen no more.

JOSEPH--THE FALSE COUNT SOLAR.

On the 1st of August 1773, a horseman, who was approaching the town of Peronne in France, discovered by the wayside a boy, apparently about eleven years of age, clad in rags, evidently suffering from want, and uttering piercing cries. Stirred with pity for this unfortunate object, the traveller dismounted, and, finding his efforts to comfort his new acquaintance, or to discover the cause of his sorrow, unavailing, persuaded him to accompany him to the town, where his immediate necessities were attended to. The boy ate ravenously of the food which was set before him, but continued to preserve the strictest silence, and, at length, it was discovered that he was deaf and dumb. A charitable woman, moved by his misfortunes, gave him a temporary home, and at the end of a few weeks he was transferred to the Bicetre--then an hospital for foundlings--through the intervention of M. de Sartine, the well-known minister of police. Here his conduct was remarkable. From the first day of his entrance he shrank from association with the other inmates, who were for the most part boys belonging to the lower orders, and by so doing earned their ill-will, and brought upon himself their persecution. Indeed, so uncomfortable did his new home prove through the malignity of his fellow-pensioners, that the health of the poor waif gave way, and it was found necessary to remove him to the Hotel Dieu of Paris. Here he was noticed by the Abbe de l'Epee, who was attracted by his quiet and aristocratic manners and gentle demeanour, and who at the same time considered that, by reason of his intelligence, he was likely to prove an apt pupil in acquiring the manual alphabet which the worthy ecclesiastic had invented. Accordingly, the Abbe removed him to his own house, and in a few months had rendered him able to give some account of himself by signs. His story was that he had a distinct recollection of living with his father and mother and sister, in a splendid mansion, situated in spacious grounds, and that he was accustomed to ride on horseback and in a carriage. He described his father as a tall man and a soldier, and stated that his face was seamed by scars received in battle. He gave a circumstantial account of his father's death, and said that he, as well as his mother and sister, were mourning for him. After his father's funeral he asserted that he was taken from home by a man whom he did not know, and that when he had been carried come distance he was deserted by his conductor and left in the wood, in which he wandered for some days, until he reached the highway, where he was discovered by the passing traveller, as above narrated.

When this tale was made public, it naturally created great excitement, and people set themselves to discover the identity of this foundling, whom the Abbe de l'Epee had named Joseph. The Abbe himself was never tired of conjecturing the possible history of his protege, or of communicating his conjectures to his friends. At length, in the year 1777, a lady, who had heard the boy's story, suggested a solution of the mystery. She mentioned that in the autumn of 1773, a deaf and dumb boy, the only son and heir of Count Solar, and head of the ancient and celebrated house of Solar, had left Toulouse, where his father and mother then dwelt, and had not returned. It had been given out that he had died, but she suggested that the account of his death was false, and that Joseph was the young Count Solar. Inquiries were instituted, and showed that the hypothesis was at least tenable. The family of Count Solar had consisted of his wife and a son and daughter. The son was deaf and dumb, and was twelve years old at his father's death, which occurred in 1773. After the decease of the old count, the boy was sent by his mother to Bagneres de Bigorre, under the care of a young lawyer, named Cazeaux, who came back to Toulouse early in the following year, with the story that the heir had died of small-pox. The mother died in 1775.

The Abbe de l'Epee, astounded by the striking similarity between the facts and Joseph's account of himself, at once came to the conclusion that Providence had chosen him as the instrument for righting a great wrong, and set himself to supply the missing links in the chain of evidence, and to restore his ward to what he doubted not was his rightful inheritance. He maintained that young Solar's mother, either wearied with the care of a child who was deprived of speech and hearing, or to secure his estates for herself or her daughter, had given her son to Cazeaux to be exposed, and that that ruffian had made tolerably certain of his work, by carrying the lad 600 miles from home, to the vicinity of Peronne, and there abandoning him in a dense wood, from which the chances were he would never be able to extricate himself, but in the mazes of which he would wander till he died. God alone, the Abbe declared, guided the helpless and hungry lad within the reach of human assistance, and sent the traveller to rescue him, opened the woman's heart to give him shelter, and brought him to Paris, so that he might be instructed and enabled to tell his doleful tale.

Fired by enthusiasm, the Abbe succeeded in engaging the co-operation of persons of the highest eminence. The Duc de Penthievre, a prince of the blood, espoused the cause of the wronged noble, and provided for his support as became his supposed rank. From the same princely source, also, funds were forthcoming to obtain legal redress for his hardships, and to prosecute his claims before the courts. Proceedings were instituted against Cazeaux, who was still alive, and a formal demand was made for the reinstatement of the foundling of Peronne in the hereditary honours of Solar. The boy was taken to Clermont, his reputed birthplace, at which he was said to have passed the first four years of his life in the company of his mother. It could scarcely be supposed that those who knew the young heir, aged four, would be able to trace much similarity to him in the claimant of seventeen. But there was far more recognition than might have been anticipated. Madame de Solar's father fancied that Joseph resembled his grandson, and he was the more thoroughly convinced of his identity, because he felt an affection for the youth which he believed to be instinctive. The brother of the countess was convinced that Joseph was his nephew, because he had the large knees and round shoulders of the deceased count. The mistress of the dame-school at Clermont recognised in the Abbe's protege her former pupil. Several witnesses also, who could not be positive as to the identity of the two persons, remembered that the youthful count had a peculiar lentil-shaped mole on his back, and a similar mole was found on the back of the claimant. As it afterwards proved, Joseph was not completely deaf, but was shrewd enough to conceal the fact. Consequently he succeeded in acquiring a good deal of useful information with respect to the Solar family, and re-produced it as the result of his own recollection when the proper time came.

On the other hand, the evidence against his pretensions was very strong. Many persons in Toulouse who had been intimately acquainted with the youthful count declared that Joseph bore no resemblance to him; and the young countess repudiated him most emphatically, asserting that he was not her brother, and he failed to recognise her as his sister. However, he persevered in asserting his rights, and claimed before the Cour du Chatelet, in Paris, the name and honours of Count Solar; and orders were given by the court for the arrest of Cazeaux as his abductor and exposer. The unfortunate lawyer was seized and hurried to the Misericorde, a loathsome dungeon below the Hotel de Ville, at Toulouse. Next day, heavily ironed, he was thrown into a cart, and thus set out on a journey of 500 miles to Paris. While the cart was in motion he was chained to it; when they halted he was chained to the inn table; at night he was chained to his bed. At length, after seventeen wearisome days, the capital was reached, and the prisoner was taken from his cart and cast into the vaults of the Chatelet. After considerable and unnecessary delay, the supposed abductor was brought to trial; and not only were the charges against him easily disproved, but the whole of the Abbe's grand hypothesis was destroyed beyond reconstruction. A host of witnesses came forward to testify that the young count did not leave Toulouse under the guardianship of Cazeaux, until the 4th of September 1773, whereas Joseph was found at Peronne on the 1st of August. Moreover, the contemporary history of the two youths was clearly traced, it being shown that in November 1773, the Count Solar was at Bagneres de Bigorre while Joseph was an inmate of the Bicetre; and finally it was conclusively proved that on the 28th of January 1774, the real Count Solar died at Charlas, near Bagneres, of small-pox, having outlived his father about a year.

The acquittal of Cazeaux followed as a matter of course, and he was dismissed from the bar of the Chatelet with unblemished reputation, but broken in health and ruined in fortune. Happily for him, a M. Avril, a rich judge of the Chatelet, who had been active against him during his trial, repented of the evil he had done him, sought his acquaintance, and bequeathed him a large fortune. Thus raised to wealth, and aided by the revolution, which levelled all social distinctions, he aspired to the hand of the widowed Countess Solar who had lost her estates. Success crowned his suit, and his former patroness became his wife. After their marriage the pair settled on an estate a few leagues from Paris, where Cazeaux died in 1831 and his wife in 1835. Joseph, who was undoubtedly the son of a gentleman, soon ceased to interest the public, and, his pretensions having failed, retired into comparative obscurity, accepting service in the army, and meeting an untimely death early in the revolutionary war.

JOHN LINDSAY CRAWFURD--CLAIMING TO BE EARL OF CRAWFURD.

In 1808, George Lindsay Crawfurd, twenty-second Earl of Crawfurd and sixth Earl of Lindsay, died without issue, and his vast estates descended to his sister, Lady Mary Crawfurd. After the death of the earl various claims were advanced to the peerage, one of them being preferred by a person of the name of John Crawfurd, who came from Dungannon, in the north of Ireland. When this claimant arrived at Ayr, in January 1809, he gave himself out as a descendant of the Hon. James Lindsay Crawfurd, a younger son of the family, who had taken refuge in Ireland from the persecutions of 1666-1680. At first he took up his abode at the inn of James Anderson, and from his host and a weaver named Wood he received a considerable amount of information respecting the family history. From Ayr he proceeded to visit Kilbirnie Castle, once the residence of the great knightly family of Crawfurd. The house had been destroyed by fire during the lifetime of Lady Mary's grandfather, and had not been rebuilt--the family taking up their residence on their Fifeshire estates. At the time of the fire, however, many family papers and letters had been saved, and had been stored away in an old cabinet, which was placed in an out-house. To these Mr. Crawfurd obtained access, and found among them many letters written by James Lindsay Crawfurd, whose descendant he pretended to be. He appropriated them and produced them when the fitting time came. At Kilbirnie he also introduced himself to John Montgomerie of Ladeside, a man well acquainted with the family story and all the vicissitudes of the Crawfurds, and one who was disposed to believe any plausible tale. The farmer, crediting the pretender's story, spread it abroad among the villagers, and they in turn fell into ecstacies over the idea of a poor man like themselves arriving at an earldom, rebuilding the ancient house of Kilbirnie, and restoring the old glories of the place. Their enthusiasm was turned to good account. The claimant was very poor, and stood in need of money to prosecute his claim, and he made no secret of his poverty or his necessities, and promised large returns to those who would help him in his time of need. "Farms," we are told, "were to be given on long leases at moderate rents; one was to be factor, another chamberlain, and many were to be converted from being hewers of wood and drawers of water to what they esteemed the less laborious, and therefore more honourable, posts of butlers and bakers, and body servants of all descriptions." These cheering prospects, of course, depended upon the immediate faith which was displayed, and the amount of assistance which was at once forthcoming. Therefore, each hopeful believer exerted himself to the utmost, and "poor peasants and farmers, cottagers and their masters, threw their stakes into the claimant's lucky-bag, from which they were afterwards to draw 'all prizes and no blanks.'" Men of loftier position, also, were not averse to speculate upon the chances of this newly-discovered heir. Poor John Montgomerie gave him every penny he had saved, and every penny he could borrow, and after mortgaging his little property, was obliged to flee to America from his duns, where, it is said, he died. His son Peter, who succeeded to Ladeside, also listened to the seductive voice of the claimant, until ruin came upon him, and he was compelled to compound with his creditors.

In due time the pretender to the Crawford peerage instituted judicial proceedings. His advocates brought forward some very feasible parole evidence; but they mainly rested their case upon the documents which had been discovered in the old cabinet at Kilbirnie. These letters, when they were originally discovered, had been written on the first and third pages; but in the interim the second pages had been filled up in an exact imitation of the old hand with matter skilfully contrived to support the pretensions of the new-comer. In these interpolations the dead Crawfurd was made to describe his position and circumstances in Ireland, his marriage, the births of his children, and his necessities, in a manner which could leave no doubt as to the rightful claims of the pretender. Unfortunately for his cause, he refused to pay his accomplices the exorbitant price which they demanded, and they, without hesitation, made offers to Lady Mary, into the hands of whose agents they confided the forged and vitiated letters. The result was that a charge of forgery was brought against the claimant, and he and his chief abettor, James Bradley, were both brought to trial before the High Court of Justiciary, in February 1812, and were sentenced to fourteen years' transportation. This result was obtained by the acceptance of the evidence of Fanning, one of the forgers, as king's evidence. While under sentence the claimant wrote a sketch of his life, which was printed at Dairy, in Ayrshire, and was published before the sentence was carried into execution. After some delay the sham earl was shipped off to Botany Bay, and arrived in New South Wales in 1813. Many persons in Scotland continued under the belief that he had been harshly treated, and had fallen a victim to the perjured statements of witnesses who were suborned by Lady Mary Crawfurd. It was not disputed that the documents which had been put in evidence really were forged; but it was suggested that the forgery had been accomplished without his knowledge, in order to accomplish his ruin. Public feeling was aroused in his favour, and he was regarded not only as an innocent and injured man, but as the rightful heir of the great family whose honours and estates he sought.

During his servitude in Australia, John Lindsay Crawfurd contrived to ingratiate himself with MacQuarrie, the governor of New South Wales, and got part of his punishment remitted, returning to England in 1820. He immediately recommenced proceedings for the recovery of the Crawfurd honours; and, as his unexpected return seemed to imply that he had been unjustly transported, his friends took encouragement from this circumstance, and again came forward with subscriptions and advances. Many noblemen and gentlemen, believing him to be injured, contributed liberally to his support and to the cost of the proceedings which he had begun. At last the case came,--and came under the best guidance--before the Lords Committee of Privileges, to which it had been referred by the king. Lord Brougham was counsel in the cause, and he publicly expressed his opinion that it was extremely well-founded. Many of the claimant's adherents, however, were deterred from proceeding further in the matter by the unfavourable report of two trustworthy commissioners who had been appointed to investigate the affair in Scotland. On the other hand, Mr. Nugent Bell, Mr. William Kaye, and Sir Frederick Pollock, with a host of eminent legal authorities, predicted certain success. Thus supported, the pretender assumed the role of Earl of Crawfurd, and actually voted as earl at an election of Scotch peers at Holyrood. Unfortunately for all parties, the claimant died before a decision could be given either for or against him. His son, however, inheriting the father's pretensions, and also apparently his faculty for raising money, contrived to find supporters, and carried on the case. Maintaining his father's truthfulness, he declared that his ancestor, the Hon. James Lindsay Crawfurd, had settled in Ireland, and that he had died there between 1765 and 1770, leaving a family, of which he was the chief representative. On the other hand, Lord Glasgow, who had succeeded by this time to the estates, insisted that the scion of the family who was supposed to have gone to Ireland, and from whom the pretender traced his descent, had in reality died in London in 1745, and had been buried in the churchyard of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. It was finally proved that a record remained of the death of James Lindsay Crawfurd in London, as stated, and 120 genuine letters were produced in his handwriting bearing a later date than that year. The decision of the House of Lords was--"That from the facts now before us we are satisfied that any further inquiry is hopeless and unnecessary." This opinion was given in 1839, and since that time no further steps have been taken to advance the claim. Strange to say, Lord Glasgow allowed the body of the original claimant to be interred in the family mausoleum; and it has been more than suggested that if John Lindsay Crawfurd was not the man that he represented himself to be, he was at least an illegitimate offshoot of the same noble house, and that had he been less pertinacious in advancing his claims to the earldom, he might have ended his days more happily.

JOHN NICHOLS THOM, ALIAS SIR WILLIAM COURTENAY.

In 1830 or 1831 a Cornishman, named John Nichols Thom, suddenly left his home, and made his appearance in Kent as Sir William Courtenay, knight of Malta. He was a man of tall and commanding appearance, had ready eloquence, and contrived to persuade many of the Kentish people that he was entitled to some of the fairest estates in the county, and that when he inherited his property they should live on it rent free. This pleasant arrangement agreeing with the views of a large proportion of the agriculturists, they entertained him hospitably, and made no secret of their impatience for the arrival of the happy time of which he spoke. Unfortunately Thom became involved in some smuggling transaction, and having been found guilty of perjury in connection with it, was sentenced to six years' transportation. After his condemnation it was discovered that he was insane, and his sentence was not carried out, but he was removed from Maidstone gaol to the county lunatic asylum, where he remained four years. In 1837 he was released by Lord John Russell, who considered that he was sufficiently recovered to be delivered up to the care of his friends. They, however, failed to discharge their duty efficiently; and in 1838, Thom reappeared in Kent, conducting himself more extravagantly than ever. The farmers and others supplied him with money, and he moved about the county delivering inflammatory harangues in the towns and villages--harangues in which he assured his auditors that if they followed his advice they should have good living and large estates, as he had great influence at court, and was to sit at her majesty's right hand on the day of the coronation. He told the poor that they were oppressed and down-trodden by the laws of the land, and invited them to place themselves under his command, and he would procure them redress. Moreover, he assured those whose religious convictions were disturbed, that he was the Saviour of the world; and in order to convince them, pointed to certain punctures in his hands, as those inflicted by the nails of the cross, and to a scar on his side, as the wound which had discharged blood and water. By these representations he succeeded in attaching nearly a hundred people to himself.

On the 28th of May he set out at the head of his tatterdemalion band from the village of Boughton, and proceeded to Fairbrook. Here a pole was procured, and a flag of white and blue, representing a rampant lion, was raised as the banner which was to lead them to victory. From Fairbrook they marched in a kind of triumphal procession round the neighbouring district, until a farmer of Bossenden, provoked by having his men seduced from their employment by Thom's oratory, made an application for his apprehension. A local constable named Mears, assisted by two others, proceeded to arrest the crazy impostor. After a brief parley, Thom asked which was the constable; and on being informed by Mears that he held that position, produced a pistol, and shot the unoffending representative of the law, afterwards stabbing him with a dagger. The wounds were almost immediately fatal, and the body was tossed into a ditch. The remaining constables fled to the magistrates who had authorised them to make the capture, and reported the state of affairs. When the intelligence of Mears's death spread abroad, the general indignation and excitement was very great, and a messenger was despatched to fetch some soldiers from Canterbury. A military party soon arrived, but their approach had been heralded to Thom and his strolling vagrants, who had betaken themselves to the recesses of Bossenden wood, where the soi-disant Sir William, by his wild gesticulations and harangues, roused his adherents to a pitch of desperate fury. To show his own valour, as soon as the soldiers, who were intended rather to overawe than injure the mob appeared, he strode out from among his ignorant attendants, and deliberately shot Lieutenant Bennett of the 45th regiment, who was in advance of his party. The lieutenant fell dead on the spot. The soldiers, excited by the murder of their leader, immediately returned the fire, and Thom was one of the first killed. As he fell, he exclaimed, "I have Jesus in my heart!" Ten of his adherents shared his fate, and many were severely wounded. Some of the more prominent among his followers were subsequently arrested, tried, and found guilty of participating in Bennett's murder. Two of them were sentenced to transportation for life; one had ten years' transportation, while six expiated their offences by a year's imprisonment in the House of Correction.