[[306]]of this amiable duke and duchess, and something so heartless and cruel in the treatment to which their only son has been subjected, we are induced, for the sake of truth and justice, to lay a brief statement of the matter before our readers.

Historians have either been treacherous or ignorant of the circumstances connected with the case of this Duke of York, who was the second son of Frederick, Prince of Wales, and next brother of George the Third. Most writers have represented "that he died in consequence of a malignant fever," as we have before mentioned; but one historian ventured to assert that "Edward, Duke of York, was ASSASSINATED in September, 1767, near Monaco, in Italy!" This statement, we are sorry to say, is but too true, which caused the book containing it to be bought up at an immense expense. The unhappy widow of his royal highness was then far advanced in pregnancy, and very shortly after this melancholy, and (to her) irreparable loss, she came over to England, and took up her residence at Haverford West, in South Wales. At this place, her royal highness gave birth to a son, whose baptism was duly entered in the register of St. Thomas' parish. What afterwards became of this illustrious lady, however, is not known; but her infant was, shortly after its birth, conveyed to London, and placed, by George the Third, under the immediate care and protection of a tradesman and his wife, by whom he was represented to be their own son. This tradesman,

[[307]]although only twenty-seven years of age, enjoyed the particular confidence of his majesty, and has been known to walk with the king by the hour, in the gardens adjoining Buckingham House, conversing with all the familiarity of an old acquaintance or an especial friend, and who at all times could command an interview with his majesty, or with the ministers. When about twelve years old, this ill-fated offspring of the duke was placed at Eton, upon which occasion his majesty took especial notice of the youth, and was in the habit of conversing very freely with him. He had not been long at Eton when his majesty allowed him to go with his reputed father to see the hounds throw off at Taplow Heath; a chaise was ordered for this purpose, and they arrived just before the deer were let out. Upon their alighting, the king rode up to them, and expressed his very great satisfaction at the appearance of the youth; and, after asking many questions relative to the arrangements made for him at school, said, "Well, my little fellow, do you be a good boy, and you shall never want friends. Good bye, good bye; the deer will soon be out!" His majesty then rode back to his attendants. Whenever George the Third passed through Eton, it was his invariable practice either to speak to, or inquire after, this youth, in whose welfare he ever appeared deeply interested. From Eton, he was removed to college; and after this period, vexations of an unpleasant nature were experienced by this orphan: his income was too limited, and unkindness and illiberality were too

[[308]]frequently his portion; even during severe indisposition, he was permitted to languish without being supplied with sufficient means to procure the needful restoratives. His life now became little else than one continued scene of unhappiness; his associates at the university were well acquainted with these facts, and appeared deeply interested in his welfare, regretting that the mind and talent of such an amiable and promising youth should be enervated by the severity or inattention of his connexions. But as he had been severely rebuked for making a complaint, and offering a remonstrance, he resolved to suffer in "silent sorrow," much to the injury of his mental enjoyments. During a vacation, and previous to his removal from college, a dispute arose amongst the members of his reputed father's family upon the subject of religion. The debate at length assumed a formidable appearance, and bigotry plainly supplied the place of sound reasoning. The family separated in the evening, each displeased with the other, and all, except one individual, at issue with the royal protégé. Early in the ensuing morning, this dissentient member of the family requested the favour of an interview with the illustrious youth, and remarked, that the occurrence was not a matter of surprise, as the very peculiar circumstances connected with the reputed father of the young gentleman were of a most serious description. "To what do you allude?" said the youth. "You ought to know," answered this honourable friend, "that you have no right to submit to insult here. You are the highest

[[309]]person in this house, and are, by your rank, entitled to the greatest respect from every one. Your pretended father forgets his duty and his engagements, when he permits you to be treated with disrespect; and if his majesty knew these circumstances, your abode would soon be changed; and your profession would be abandoned. The king never would allow an indignity to be offered to you in any way, much less by the person into whose care he has so confidingly entrusted you." "What!" said the young prince, "am I not the son of Mr. ******? but, if I am, why should his majesty take so much interest in my case?" "No," answered his informant, "you are not the son of Mr. ******. But ask no more; my life might probably pay for my explanation!" From this period, the subject of our memoir was treated with the greatest unkindness and personal indignity by almost every member of his reputed father's family. Indeed, the imperious behaviour of the elder branches was such as could not be passed over in silence; in consequence of which, the high-spirited and noble victim was sent back to college for the remainder of the vacation, with little more in his purse than would defray the expenses of the journey; but the command was peremptory! After remaining some time in utter destitution, the royal protégé wrote to request an early supply of cash, naming for what purposes. This appeal was considered as the effect of extravagance and profligacy, and, instead of being properly complied with, was answered with acrimony, every thing the reverse of

[[310]]parental feeling. Under these heart-rending circumstances, did this ill-fated son of Prince Edward labour for nearly four years at the university,—not daring to make any further appeals to the austere, impatient, and arbitrary person, to whose care the king had so fully, though secretly, entrusted him. At length, however, a severe illness was the consequence; and censure, in no very measured terms, was heaped upon the unfeeling character who had so cruelly immolated a promising and worthy young gentleman, and who, he well knew, was of the most illustrious descent. Those who were acquainted with the particulars of the case were most incensed against such heartless conduct. Mr. ****** had undertaken the important charge of seeing this protégé able to realize the ardent wish of his majesty, either as a legal or clerical character, and thereby, in some degree, provided for. But, while his majesty's nephew was refused means to live respectably, and excluded from all youthful amusements, the real sons of his reputed father were allowed all the pleasures and enjoyments of life. At his final removal from college, this ill-treated prince represented to his unfeeling guardian that he should take greater pleasure in pursuing legal to clerical engagements; but his wishes in this, as in most other matters, were totally disregarded, and the church was destined, by arbitrary will, to be his profession. He, therefore, at the proper age, was compelled to take orders, and enter upon a profession he had not chosen. As the home of his reputed father was scarcely to be

[[311]]endured, a curacy was eagerly accepted, and the son of the Duke of York, the nephew of George the Third, was transformed into "a clergyman of the church of England!!!" Here he toiled in an obscure village, scarcely receiving sufficient means to discharge the small demands required for his maintenance!

Shortly after this, the principal of the living died insolvent, and the little remuneration due to the curate could not be obtained. In this distressing state of affairs, the persecuted prince could obtain no settlement from his guardian; yet from comparative nothingness, this man was raised to affluence, and was then living in much style, keeping his carriage and horses, inhabiting a mansion of very superior description, and the whole of his family enjoying every superfluity of life. He, however, on whose sole account this sumptuous appearance was bestowed, was "eating the bread of Carefulness, and reposing upon the couch of Sorrow!" We need not enter more fully into the case of this unfortunate, but worthy, descendant of Prince Edward, than say, that, from the commencement of his studies to a very recent period, he has been the victim of Power! His sufferings and his sorrows have been too great for language to describe; and, but for the blessings of a fine constitution, he must have fallen under them. But, if he be called upon in a suitable manner, we doubt not that he has yet preserved to him sufficient of his natural courage, though in his

[[312]]65th year, to make "False Accusation blush, and Tyranny tremble at Patience!"