on occasion it was joined by discontented Whigs. Shippen declared stoutly that he received his voting instructions from James in Rome, though this was at best a generalization; Rome was too far away, and communication with London too perilous and too difficult to permit James any but the broadest influence over the Jacobite M.P.'s. In the course of the 1730s even James's parliamentary support dwindled, and the prevailing peace between Britain and the continental states allowed the Jacobites no opportunity to offer themselves as allies to Britain's enemies.
Marooned in Italy, forced to endure the dwindling away of his supporters and helpless to change the course of events, James must have felt keenly the weight of his years and the intense frustration of having produced an immature if vigorous son. An unkind fate still pursued him, having made havoc of his once-promising marriage and left him a widower, and having given him at best a marginally satisfactory heir.
Hoping that a broadening of Charles's experience might improve him, James decided in the spring of 1737 to send him on a tour of the principal Italian cities. For more than two months Charles and his traveling companions—including Murray, Sheridan, another tutor called Strickland, five liveried servants and six others—traveled from city to city, with Charles presenting himself as "Count of Albany" though in fact representing the Stuart monarchy.
He began his tour in Bologna, where a troupe of guardsmen escorted him to his palatial lodgings and a great ball was held in his honor. At Parma, where he went next, the dowager duchess presented him with a gold snuffbox and, on his departure, a costly diamond ring. Here he was the guest of honor at a state dinner— hardly an appropriate welcome for a mere Count of Albany—and even inspected the troops as a visiting monarch might be expected to do. At Genoa Charles received the Spanish envoy and was the guest of Cardinal Spinola, while at Milan every prominent person in the city sought to pay his respects to him—except for the representatives of Emperor Charles, who were ordered to ignore him.
The tour was proving to be even more of a success than James had anticipated. Charles was "the fashionable idol at the moment," the central attraction at dances and receptions, the object of attention wherever he went. Tall, fair, bright-eyed and smooth-skinned, he was enviably princely as he moved gracefully over the dance floor, enviably noble as he toured the sights of the cities and received the gifts, compliments and honors that were showered upon him. He wore his blue Garter ribbon and star, and may have worn— as he did in some portraits—tartan dress, which became his fair skin and light hair. His manner, as usual, captivated his public, especially when he spoke of his ambitions. "Had I soldiers," he reportedly said, "I would not be here now but wherever I could serve my friends." 1
In Venice Charles was given a kingly reception, sitting on the Bench of Princes at the Assembly of the Grand Council and later conversing with the doge as ruler to ruler—or at least ruler to heir apparent. He rode through the canals in the splendidly appointed gondola of the French ambassador, and was allowed to use one of the gondolas of the Venetian Republic as well.
By this time Charles had been on tour for two months, garnering praise, arousing gossip, his royal and near-royal receptions an insult to the Hanoverian monarchy. Every time Charles Stuart was honored, George II was snubbed, and the English decided that the repeated insults had gone on long enough. The Venetian ambassador in London, Businiello, was expelled from the capital and ordered to leave England within three days. And the English envoy in Florence—where Charles was expected soon—made it known to the grand duke that he and his government hoped the Florentines would not indulge in any unseemly celebrating when the young man arrived.
But despite assurances by