her. They lived in Philadelphia three years, and I was born there. When
I was two years old, my mother's only relative, a bachelor uncle, died
in London, leaving a considerable estate. She was notified that a
portion of the property would go to her by will. My father's health was
poor, and he had decided to take up his residence for a few years in the
south of France, and my mother's affairs induced him to hasten his
departure.

Leaving his property in the hands of his brother Amos, he sailed for
Europe, accompanied by his wife and son. On his arrival in London he
found the affairs of my mother's uncle in great confusion. Another will
had been produced, in which my mother's name was not mentioned. My
father believed there was fraud, or that the second will had been made
under illegal pressure, and he contested it. The proceedings detained
him in London a year; at the end of which time, having lost the case,
his health was entirely broken down by fatigue and excitement. Conscious
that he should not live to return to his native land, he sent for his
brother Amos, to assist him in settling his worldly affairs. The will
was made, and he died.

His death was a terrible blow to my mother, and being of a very
sensitive nature, it affected her reason. She became insane, and Amos
sent her to a private asylum, within a month after my father's funeral.
Until this time, probably, the brother had no intention of defrauding
her and her son. Amos had all the property of my father in his own
hands. The temptation was great, and finding that my mother's health did
not improve, he decided to return to America, with his son Thomas, who
accompanied him, taking me with him in charge of a nurse. The care of my
mother was left to Mr. Bunyard, who was to pay her bills. My mother was
the inmate of the asylum for two years, though she was cured in less
than one.

She was discharged, and Mr. Bunyard conveyed her to a small village in
Hampshire, assuring her that Amos would come for her soon; but year
after year she hoped to see her son, till she was told that he was dead.
Her residence was changed every two or three years, for what reason she
did not know; but every time it was for the worse, until her food,
clothing, and accommodations were not better than those of the poorest
class. I readily perceived that it was to enable Mr. Bunyard to make
more money out of his victim, by paying less for her board. My uncle
sent him two hundred pounds