Maria in Exile

During her first week or so abroad after her flight from England, Maria settled down in Aix-la-Chapelle where she took the waters and lived quietly while she considered the events which had led up to her departure.

She was unhappy, far more so than she had believed possible. In ordinary circumstances she would have enjoyed a brief stay at the spa—a brief stay, ah! That was the point. She had not come for a holiday, but as an exile.

She thought a great deal about the Prince and wondered how he had taken the news of her flight. He would be heartbroken and how sorry she was to inflict such suffering on him. She almost wished that she had not been brought up with such a stern religious outlook. So many women would have been able to reconcile themselves to the situation. If he had been anyone else but the Prince of Wales ... But how stupid to think along such lines. He was the Prince of Wales, and there was an end to the matter. But was it an end to the matter? Was she to spend her life wandering round Europe, an exile from her native land? Nonsense, he would forget her in time. One day she would hear the news that he had fallen in love with someone else—someone more amenable than Maria Fitz-herbert.

She revolted against the idea. E*

What has come over me? she asked herself. I am just a stupid woman who hates the thought of being alone.

One day when she was seated in the Assembly rooms after having taken the water a party of people came by talking in English. They paused and looked at her, and she pretended not to notice. But they were aware of her and she believed they knew who she was.

She left the Assembly rooms and hurried to her own suite. No doubt these English visitors were telling their friends that Maria Fitzherbert was in Aix-la-Chapelle.

She knew what it would be like. Everywhere she went people would stare at her; they would whisper about her behind her back. 'That's Maria Fitzherbert who fled from England to escape the attentions of the Prince of Wales.'

So, she thought, it has followed me here.

Visitors here on returning to England would spread the news; he would hear of it and might do something foolish such as coming over to be with her. What trouble that might cause she could not imagine. And now that she was so lonely, would she continue to resist if she had to listen to his pleading in person?

He must not know. He must never come here. She must not forget that he was the Prince of Wales and what he did could affect the whole country. Travelling through France she had noticed certain signs which had alarmed her. There was a shortage of bread in some towns and the people were murmuring against the aristocracy. She had seen pictures of the Queen portrayed in a most unflattering manner. At home there were lampoons and cartoons about the royal family, but these suggested a good humoured mockery. Here in France there was a sinister undercurrent which was perhaps more apparent to one who had come fresh to it—particularly after having known the country—than to those who had seen it gradually grow.

Maria did not wish to be the cause of trouble to the English royal family.

She must remain abroad for the good of them all.

But not, she had decided, in Aix-la-Chapelle where, because of its proximity to England, many English people came to take the waters.

She would go over the frontier to The Hague where it might well be that no one had ever heard of Maria Fitzherbert.

She had not been in Holland many weeks when she began to wonder whether her move had been a wise one.

The country, like France, was in a state of conflict, only it was different here. In Holland it was known that the republic was independent of the Stadtholder, and there was open enmity between them, whereas the feeling in France was subversive and all the more alarming because of it.

The Stadtholder wished to preserve good relations with England and was in favour of an alliance with that country. The influence of France, however, had been responsible for the break between the Stadtholder and the people of Holland, for the French wished to establish a stale which relied on them and was completely under French influence.

One thing that pleased Maria was that here at The Hague no one seemed to have heard of the affair between the Prince of Wales and Maria Fitzherbert, so that she could enjoy a quiet anonymity which had been denied her in France.

She took a house not far from the palace and as a visitor of obvious wealth was soon drawn into a social circle. There were few English people in the town and those who were there had been there for some time so that they were unaware of events outside Holland; and it was not long before she had an invitation to attend the palace, for the Stadtholder, being a grandson of George II, was very ready to welcome any English visitors to the town.

Maria had always liked company and eagerly accepted the invitations. She found the Stadtholder charming; his wife no less so; and their daughter, a young girl in her teens, very interested indeed in all things English.

She gradually learned that the royal family were in a sad plight, that daily they expected a revolution which could mean the Stadtholder's losing his title and being banished from his country. He was a weak man and could not make up his mind as to which action to take which was, Maria thought, no doubt responsible for his present disastrous position. His wife, who

was a niece of Frederick the Great, was talented and charming, and although she was fully aware of the precarious situation of her household, seemed able to dismiss the ugly problem. She wanted to hear about England and the manners of the Court there; and Maria told her, as best she could, leaving the Prince of Wales out of the conversation as much as possible.

The young Princess of Orange always expressed great pleasure when Maria visited the Court and it was not long before she discovered why.

One afternoon she received an invitation and when she arrived it was to find the young Princess waiting for her.

'Oh, Mrs. Fitzherbert,' she said, 'I want to speak to you alone.'

Maria was surprised and the Princess hurried on: 'I never get the opportunity. And I will speak to you in English. I have learned it and worked hard at it because I have a very special reason for doing so.'

'It is not easy to learn, I fear.'

'It is the most difficult language in the world. But I must learn it. I practise every day. And now that you are here, Mrs. Fitzherbert, it gives me an opportunity to practise on you'

Maria laughed. 'Pray practise all you wish.'

'I will. Now please tell me about the English Court. Tell me about the King and Queen and all their children/

'That would take a long time/ said Maria, 'if I knew very much about them. There are so many of them/

'Very well I will be contented to hear about the Prince of Wales. Pray tell me of him. You have seen him, of course/

Maria flushed slightly. 'Oh, yes, I have seen him/

'I have heard he is very good looking. Is he?'

'Yes. He is good looking.'

'And charming?'

'Yes, charming/

'He dances and sings like an angel. Is that true?'

'I have never seen an angel dance nor heard one sing/

'Ah, but have you seen the Prince of Wales sing and dance?'

'Well, yes, I have/

'That is good enough then. I hear he is kind, very clever and witty and wears dazzling clothes. Is this all true?'

4 I suppose it is.'

'I think he must be the most perfect man in the whole world. Do you think so, Mrs. Fitzherbert?'

She was overcome with embarrassment. She wanted to ask permission to leave. She had an appointment; she had a headache; anything to get away.

'Do you, Mrs. Fitzherbert?'

She heard herself answer almost defiantly: 'Yes, I believe I do.'