[[237]]though unsuspected, character. Shortly after this period, at an evening party, M'Mahon introduced Colonel Fox, "a gentleman," he said, "allied to the noblest families, and of an immense fortune."

If our readers should here inquire, who was Colonel Fox? we answer,—the Prince of Wales.

We hasten to the conclusion of this most infamous history. The deceived clergyman was informed that he must proceed to a village in Leicestershire, where his induction would instantly take place; and he, therefore, hastily took leave of his daughters, with an assurance that they were in the best society. Indeed, Mrs. Hamilton had evinced such interest and apparent solicitude in their happiness, that his heart was relieved from any doubts for their safety. This amiable father took leave of his children in the most affectionate manner; but little did he imagine that embrace would be the last he should ever receive from them,—yet so it proved. A short time after, early in the day, M'Mahon called upon Mrs. General Hamilton, expressing the necessity of her seeing her solicitor upon some affairs relative to the estate of her deceased husband.

The carriage was ordered, and the secretary promised to remain with the younger, while the elder sister accompanied Mrs. Hamilton. "We will first drive to Taylor's, in Bond-street," said Mrs. Hamilton, "he has some commissions to execute for me," and accordingly they were set down there.

The obsequious shoe-maker requested them to walk into the drawing-room, which they did; and in

[[238]]a few minutes Mrs. Hamilton said, "I will now step down, and transact my business with Taylor." In a short time she returned, saying, "How truly fortunate we are; Colonel Fox has just entered the shop, and, being informed you are here, has solicited permission to keep you company until I return from my solicitor's; you cannot refuse the request;" and then, without waiting a reply, she left the room. The pretended Colonel Fox entered; he professed eternal love and unalterable constancy; and, within one hour, this lovely, but most unfortunate, female was added to the infamously-swelled list of the prince's debaucheries and cruel seductions. The younger sister still lives—a melancholy proof of outraged and insulted honour.

We have given this detail to satisfy the scrupulous portion of society, that the prince merited a thousand-fold more exposure and execration than he ever received.

At this period, Mr. Whitbread was very pressing with the Princess of Wales, advising her to make a tour upon the continent, in order to divert her mind from the provocations she was so frequently called upon to endure. Upon one occasion, he urged the subject with considerable warmth, and his great earnestness surprised her royal highness. With her usual readiness, she said, "I feel sure Mr. Whitbread does not intend any thing disagreeable in these remarks; but, Sir, are you aware that Mr. Canning has been pressing the same opinion upon my notice? and I do not comprehend why this suggestion is made

[[239]]by you also. If I go away, shall I not leave my beloved child exposed to the determinate will and caprice of the queen, and others, who, doubtless, will vex her as much as possible? Are you, Sir, requested to represent this to me, or is it your private opinion?" Mr. Whitbread replied, "It is my personal opinion, and solely to provide against any unhappy effects arising from the queen's displeasure, which," he added, "I well know is unbounded."

On the 27th of May, the princess went to the Opera House. It was her first appearance in public since her triumphant acquittal. Her royal highness was received with considerable acclamations, while even her enemies were compelled to acknowledge "the dignity, delicacy, and feeling, pre-eminently displayed in her behaviour."