Neither my sister, nor
myself, ever saw him afterwards. We have understood that he was killed in
battle; though when, or where, we do not know. My old shipmate, the
editor, however, thinks it must have been in Canada; as letters were
received from a friend in Quebec, after I had quitted Nova Scotia,
inquiring after us children, and stating that the effects of my father
were in that town, and ought to belong to us. This letter gave my sister
the first account of his death; though it was not addressed to her, but to
those in whose care she had been left. This property was never recovered;
and my shipmate, who writes this account, thinks there may have been legal
difficulties in the way.
Previously to quitting the province of Nova Scotia, my father placed
Harriet and myself in the house of a Mr. Marchinton, to live. This
gentleman was a clergyman, who had no regular parish, but who preached in
a chapel of his own. He sent us both to school, and otherwise took charge
of us. I am not aware of the precise time when the prince left Halifax,
but it must have been when I was five or six years old--probably about the
year 1798 or 1799.[2]
From that time I continued at Mr. Marchinton's, attending school, and
busied, as is usual with boys of that age, until the year 1805. I fear I
was naturally disposed to idleness and self-indulgence, for I became
restive and impatient under the restraints of the schoolmaster, and of the
gentleman in whose family I had been left.
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