Uncle Sussex and his tribulations

Press, 27 August 1977, Page 17

Uncle Sussex and his tribulations

Royal Duke; Augustus Frederick, Duke of Sussex (17731843). By Mollie Gillen. Sidgwick and Jackson. Plates, genealogical table, select bibliography, key to sources, index. 268 pp. $16.60. (Reviewed by Stuart Perry) Mrs Gillen, an Australian who lives in Canada, is well known as the biographer of the Masseys. She has already had a trial run with the life of one of George Ill’s sons; her book, "The Prince and his Lady,” is the story of the Duke of Kent and Madame de St Laurent. This time she has chosen to write of Augustus Frederick, a man who deserved a better chance to serve his country than he was accorded, whose goodness and kindness — though he was no angel — were proverbial and whose ruefulness and sense of hurt rarely degenerated into bitterness and selfpity. Though in the end she was sometimes impatient with the old man, his niece Queen Victoria near the end of his life received and acknowledged great kindness from him, and rewarded him with her gratitude and affection. This is the unhappy tale of a welldisposed man who ruined his career by blotting his copy book. King George 111 had procured the passage of the bill which became the infamous Royal Marriages Act, 1772, because two of his younger brothers had made marriages which, with the succession to the throne in mind, he regarded as unacceptable. His first son to be born after the passage of the Act was to suffer most from its provisions. A few months’ patience might have avoided some of the consequences of the Prince’s action. Lady Augusta Murray might not have been a possible Queen of England, but on the other hand Prince Augustus was several places from the throne. In the event, two of his five elder brothers did succeed. With George 111 the frustration of his policy counted more than the likelihood of trouble later, and a good deal more than affection for his semi-invalid son. Augustus was an asthmatic, and a bad one. He was very tall and in time

grew very fat. When he was young his father was concerned about him, but he, too was a sick man. Latterly it has been established that he suffered from porphyria, and perhaps the vagaries of that ailment contributed towards his implacable refusal to consider his son’s needs and aspirations. Prince Augustus himself had a more sanguine disposition. It is very doubtful whether at the outset he really believed his father would hold him long in disfavour, would deny him any sort of career opportunity, would expect him to maintain an appropriate establishment but deny him the money to do it. The author is skilful in showing how he gradually woke up to the fact that this was to be a permanent estrangement, that his letters and appeals would go unanswered, that for all the King cared his wife — whom the King regarded as his mistress — could rot unrecognised. The Prince was dignified and courageous: he never got the colonial governorship he aspired to, nor the emoluments which might have kept his debts within bounds he was, as a matter of fact among the least improvident of the brothers. He followed too well, perhaps, that famous advice: “This above all, to thine own self be true. . .” Though still on good terms with his son and daughter, and “in civilised touch” with Lady Augusta until her death, Prince Augustus did it again. The lady this time was a daughter of the Earl of Arran, but had married a City knight called Buggin. Some time after his death she assumed her mother’s maiden name of Underwood by Royal licence, but the less euphonious Buggin was not forgotten by the wits at the time of her marriage to the Prince. This marriage, too, was in contravention of the Royal Marriages Act. Sojourning in Portugal Prince Augustus had shown his political sympathies too clearly and embarrassed the Government; this was an excuse or perhaps a reason for his services not to be used in diplomacy. It is sad to see such recurrent enthusiasm cuffed back into place so

often; in every way in which the Prince was allowed to grow up he seems to have grown up well. Created Duke of Sussex — at very long last, and without the financial provision necessary to support the position, he was of all the brothers the least-favoured. However, he made a career for himself. He took his seat in the House of Lords, and without being a great orator appears to have contributed a lot of good sense to some important debates. This opened the way to his work for charity.

“It was observed in 1838 that the Duke had presided over 70 charitable institutions for the past 25 years.” He was a born hospital administrator and fund-raiser, and it is open to speculation how far royal patronage of charities owes its real impact to the tremendous effort he put into these causes. He was Grand Master of the United Grand Lodge — elected in 1813 — and the author has put together an admirable account of his involvement in Freemasonry, and a not inconsiderable thumbnail sketch of the craft of the time. Denied a military career of the kind his health would have sustained, he did hold a number of military appointments, and these included successively the principal commands in the Honourable Artillery Company. He was a great liberal and humanitarian. His wide-ranging and inquiring mind led him to assemble a fine library which he certainly could not afford. He worked out the cataloguing and shelving arrangements himself. (The books are now in the British Museum). It all reads like a rather sad obituary, but it is clear that Augustus Frederick would not have had you pity him. There was no Royal (nor Regency) favour in his life, and precious little money, but there was colour, drama and excitement. There was achievement and there was popularity of the kind a man can earn. People loved this man, and the nation mourned when he died. He was, in fact, a man toughened up and strengthened by adversity, and this is what his contemporaries came to honour.