By this time the axe had almost done its work in England, and Tower Hill was to see only one more head laid upon the block—that of Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat, who was the last of the Jacobite lords to be executed. Lord Lovat’s long life had begun in 1667, and it had been as wild and vicious as it had been lengthy. Like the Regent Orléans, he might very justly have been called a “fanfaron de vice.” In his youth he had lived in Paris, where he had become a Roman Catholic, if such a man as Lovat could be said to have any religion. He enjoyed what was probably a unique experience in that he was imprisoned both in the Bastille and in the Tower, for although there is no authority for saying that he was the only man who underwent imprisonment in the great State prisons of England and of France, on the other hand, there is also no authority for saying that he was not. He had been in the Bastille in 1702, on the charge of having betrayed a Jacobite plot to the English Government. Although not actually in arms during the “’45” rebellion, Lovat had kept up a correspondence with the Young Pretender; and this correspondence cost him his life. When captured at the Isle of Moran, after the Battle of Culloden, he was so infirm that he had to be carried to Edinburgh in a litter, and thence in the same way to Berwick, and so to London. [Illustration: _The_ =Effigie= _of the late =CHARLES RATCLIFFE Esqʳ.= who was beheaded on little Tower Hill, Monday Decemʳ 8ᵗʰ. 1746. for being concern’d in the Rebellion in the Year 1745._] It was at the White Hart at St Albans that Hogarth met him, and there it was that great artist painted the admirable little full-length portrait of the old Jacobite, which is now in the National Portrait Gallery. Hogarth used to say that he painted Lovat as he sat counting up the numbers of the rebel forces on his fingers. The engraving of this portrait, taken by the artist himself, had an immense success at the time, the printing press being kept employed day and night, and for a considerable time Hogarth made twelve pounds a day by its sale. Lovat arrived at the Tower on the 15th of August 1746, and according to the account given in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for that month, came “in an open Landau driven by six horses, guarded by a party of Liguier’s Horse, and accompany’d in the Landau by an officer—as he passed through the streets he seemed very unconcerned, but coming on the hill, he turn’d his eyes towards the scaffold erecting for beholding the execution of the lords, and lifting up his hands, said, ‘A few days, and it will be my awful fate!’”