The duke, cheated by his father’s will, and sneered at by Marshal Saxe; with no reputation but for bravery, and no merit as a country gentleman but that of treating his labourers with some liberality, lived on as contentedly as though he were quietly enjoying all possible honour. His good-humoured gallantry was of a hearty nature. When George III., in 1762, complimented Lady Albemarle, in full drawing-room, on the victories achieved by her husband, the Duke of Cumberland stepped across the room to her and enthusiastically exclaimed, ‘If it was not in the drawing-room I would kiss you.’ He was a constant attendant at these ceremonies. On the morning of the 31st of October he had been to court, and had conversed cheerfully with Queen Charlotte. It was the last time she ever beheld him. He subsequently dined in Arlington Street with Lord Albemarle, and appeared in good health, although the day before, when playing at picquet with General Hodgson, he had been confused and mistook his cards. Early in the evening he was at his town-house, 54, Upper Grosvenor Street, when the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Northington called upon him. As they entered the room he was seized with a suffocation. One of his valets, who was accustomed to bleed him, was called, and prepared to tie up his arm; but the duke exclaimed, ‘It is all over!’ and immediately expired in Lord Albemarle’s arms. Thus died the favourite son of Caroline of Anspach, to place a crown on whose brow she would have sacrificed her own life. He was an indifferent general, who outlived the reputation he acquired at Culloden, where it was impossible that he should be beaten. Where to be vanquished was possible he never had the good luck of being victor. But he cared as little for fame as he did for money; and his neglect in the latter case is testified by the fact that nearly eighteen hundred pounds, in bank notes, were found in the pocket of one of his cast-off suits, of which a present had been made, after the duke’s death, to one of his hussars. The hussar had the honesty to return the money. The King behaved with appropriate delicacy on this occasion. When Lord Albemarle, the duke’s executor, presented to the King the key of his uncle’s cabinet, George III. returned it, bidding Lord Albemarle use his own discretion in examining all private papers, and in destroying all such as the duke himself probably would not have wished to be made public. On the 28th of December the death of his Majesty’s youngest brother, Prince Frederick, at the early age of sixteen years, threw additional gloom on the circle of the royal family. At least, so say the journalists of the period.