Sweet lass of Richmond Hill

Betrayal in the House

Charles James Fox had been doing his best to persuade the Whig Party to support the Prince in his plea to Parliament for a settlement of his debts; but, with the exception of Sheridan he had found little support. There was one question which Fox knew was making his friends hold back, and that was the all-important one of the Prince's marriage.

Only those who had actually been present when the officiating clergyman had pronounced the Prince and Maria Fitzherbert man and wife could swear that the marriage had taken place. These were the Prince and Maria, her brother, her uncle and the Reverend Robert Burt; all these had pledged their secrecy, and in any case by assisting at such a ceremony they were guilty of the vague but serious crime of pnemunire. So no one could be absolutely certain.

Fox believed he was, however, because he had in his possession a letter from the Prince categorically denying that the marriage would ever take place; and it was on this that he based his case.

He wanted to bring up the matter in Parliament because he was certain that he could win. The Prince's debts must be paid; the Prince's allowance must be increased; and the King must be shown up for the mean old skinflint that he was. The country must understand that the King was a foolish and disagreeable old gentleman who quarrelled with every member of his family. The Prince was the hope of the future. Pitt was the King's man; Fox was the Prince's; and a wise electorate would choose the gay and charming Prince with Fox, rather than Pitt and the stupid unpleasant old King.

Never had the King been so unpopular. This was the time to strike; and Fox believed he was ready.

He knew, of course, why Portland and the others were holding back. They were unsure whether or not the Prince was married. If it came out that he was—and since his financial affairs would be under discussion it might well do so—then the Prince's popularity would be immediately lost. At the moment the affair was wrapped in mystery and the people loved a mystery. The papers were full of the love affair between Maria and the Prince. But what if it were admitted that the Prince of Wales had in fact married a lady, twice widowed, six years his senior ... well, that might be accepted. But she was a Catholic; and ever since the Smithfield fires the people of England had determined never to have a Catholic on the throne. James II had lost his crown because of this; the Hanoverian succession had come into force because of it; the recent Gordon riots showed without a doubt that the feeling was as strong as ever.

It was clear to Fox that the reason the Whigs as a party would not support the Prince was because of the fear that he had married Mrs. Fitzherbert and that this would be disclosed; and if it were so, and he was associated with the Party, then the Party would suffer great harm and perhaps for years to come be linked with the Catholic cause.

The marriage was not mentioned because the Prince was present at most of the discussions and it was considered too delicate a matter and one of which he had no wish to talk. Everyone who knew him well knew also that he greatly disliked discussing anything which was unpleasant to him.

Fox, however, was not disturbed. He believed he knew what had happened; and he felt confident.

If the Prince would only state openly to his friends that there had been no ceremony, then there would have been no difficulty in persuading them to support him; but this he would not do.

Fox believed he understood. The Prince was romantic; he was deeply in love with Maria Fitzherbert. If people believed that there had been a ceremony of marriage, let them go on believing it. It was doubtless what Maria wished. She preferred people to believe that she had gone through a ceremony of marriage; and the Prince wished to please her.

It all seemed clear enough to Fox.

The Duke of Portland, however, was adamant. He declared that he—as head of the Whigs—could not allow the Party to bring up the matter of the Prince's debts.

The Prince was angry and cut Portland when next they met. Portland shrugged his shoulders. He was sorry to displease the Prince but he had the Party to think of.

"I am determined," the Prince told Fox, "to have the matter brought up in Parliament. Quite clearly I cannot continue in this state."

Fox said: "Certainly it shall be brought up. Never fear, we shall do without Portland. Sherry and I are worth the rest of the Party put together. We'll get an independent member to bring up the subject. I know the man: Alderman Newnham. As a rich city merchant he carries weight. I think he's our man."

Within a few days Fox was able to report to the Prince that he was indeed the man.

Alderman Newnham would bring up the matter of the Princes debts in the House of Commons during the next sitting.

On April 20th Alderman Newnham addressed Mr. Pitt, Chancellor of the Exchequer, which office he held in addition to that of Prime Minister.

"Is it the design of His Majesty's ministers to bring forward any proposition to rescue the Prince of Wales from his present very embarrassed condition? His Royal Highness's conduct during these difficulties has reflected greater honour and glory on his character than the most splendid diadem in Europe, yet it must be very disagreeable to his Royal Highness to be deprived of those comforts and enjoyments which so properly belong to his rank."

Mr. Pitt rose and replied: "It is not my duty to bring forward a subject of such nature as that suggested by the honourable gentleman except at the command of His Majesty. I have not been honoured by such a command."

Mr. Pitt sat down and Alderman Newnham was immediately on his feet to announce that he would bring up the matter again on the 4th May.

Fox was amused. "We have begun," he told Lizzie. "Pitt has been taken by surprise. He did not believe the Prince would allow the matter to be brought up."

"Why not? He knows the Prince cannot continue as he is."

"This is really a question of Is the Prince married or is he not? Pitt thinks His Highness daren't risk an enquiry into his affairs."

"But surely His Highness does not wish for such an enquiry?"

"His Highness wishes his debts to be paid—and I intend to see that they are."

Pitt sprang a surprise on the House by referring to the matter before Alderman Newnham brought it up again. He chose an opportunity when the House was full to ask whether the honourable magistrate, Alderman Newnham, intended to persevere with the motion and what scope and tendency it would take.

Newnham replied that it was simply to rescue the Prince of Wales from his present embarrassing position.

Pitt's reply was threatening.

"The principal delicacy of the question," he remarked, "will lie in the necessity for enquiring into the causes of the circumstances."

Fox knew what that meant.

Ever since Maria's return from the Continent there had been cartoons and paragraphs about her and the Prince in the papers; but just at this time, when the question of the Prince's debts was about to be brought up in the House, John Home Tooke, a politician who also enjoyed writing pamphlets and was renowned for his eccentricities, produced one of his papers entitled The Reported Marriage of the Prince of Wales. His motive seemed to be to expose the iniquities of the Marriage Act and to pour ridicule upon it, for since as he believed the Prince had married in spite of it, what use was it? He ended by writing:

"It is not from debates in either Houses of Parliament that the public will receive any solid information on a point of so much importance to the nation, to the Sovereign on the throne, to his royal successor and to a most amiable and justly valued female character whom I conclude to be in all respects both legally, really, worthily and happily for this country, Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales."

This pamphlet caused a stir throughout London and the Court. Is he or isn't he? everyone was asking. Bets were taken on. Everything else now seemed to have taken second place to the all important questions: Is the Prince married? Can the Prince be married? What about the Royal Marriage Act? Is the marriage legal? But first of all: Did an actual ceremony take place?

Fox was alert.

He said to Sheridan, "It seems that one of us must always be in the House in case Pitt should bring up the matter at any moment. You know what this is going to mean. It's not going to be a question of the Prince's debts—that is just the cover. It's going to be Is he married or not?"

"Does His Highness grasp this fact, do you think?"

"He grasps it. But he has to have his debts settled. This is the price Pitt is asking. Damned clever. He's not going to let us show the King for the mean old devil he is. He's going to try and show up the Prince and possibly attempt to have him cut out of the succession. We must be on our guard. You and I are the only defenders. You can be sure that Portland won't allow the Party to be involved."

Nevertheless Fox was taken off his guard. Perhaps he had underestimated the effect Home Tooke's pamphlet would have. There was one section of the House which was very much opposed to any encroachment on the Established Church of England; these were the country squires who were determined that they would never have a Catholic on the throne—nor should any monarch have a Catholic consort. This group had been very influential in driving James II from England and establishing William of Orange on the throne; and if the Prince of Wales had indeed married a Catholic they saw—not the same danger, of course, which had arisen in 1688, but what could be the beginning of a similar situation. Wives influenced husbands; they were anxious that the heir to the throne should be solidly Protestant, and if he had been so foolish as to marry a Catholic wife—even morganatically, they wanted to know it.

So they met and appointed as their spokesman John Rolle, a squire from Devonshire. Rolle was a blunt and honest man; his accent betrayed his Devon origin and he was slow of speech but forthright; no one had ever been able to bribe John Rolle; he was no respector of persons and he did not care if his frank speaking offended royalty. As a sturdy noncomformist he was not prepared to support any Catholic influence on the throne; and if the Prince of Wales had married a Catholic he was determined to know it.

On the 27th April, Alderman Newnham rose, as had been arranged, and suggested that an address be made to His Majesty the King, begging him to consider the present embarrassed financial position of the Prince of Wales and to grant him such relief as he should think fit, that the House might make good whatever sum was considered necessary to restore the Prince to a reasonable state.

Pitt was about to reply to this when John Rolle forestalled him.

His words, uttered in that burred accent, sent a shock through the House, for it was realized that from the moment the Devonshire squire had spoken there could be no more prevarication.

If ever there was a question which called particularly upon the attention of that class of persons, the country gentleman, it would be the question which the honourable Alderman had declared his determination to agitate, said Rolle, because it was a question which went immediately to affect our Constitution in Church and State. Whenever it was brought forward he would rise the moment the honourable Alderman sat down and move the previous question, being convinced that it ought not to be discussed.

Sheridan was disturbed. The moment was at hand. And where was Fox? On this most significant occasion Fox was not in the House. The burden therefore must fall on Sheridan.

What could he do? He must play for time. It was Fox who must deal with this. On the impulse of the moment it seemed there was only one tiling he could do and that was to pretend not to understand Rolle's meaning.

He jumped to his feet. He failed to sec, he said, what the matter had to do with Church and State. The motion had been brought, he believed, merely to free the Prince from financial embarrassments.

But Rolle was not the man to be so easily set aside. He was immediately on his feet. If the motion were introduced, he said, he would do his duty.

The wily Pitt was immediately aware of Sheridan's dismay and took his advantage.

He rose to his feet. "I am much concerned," he said, "that by the perseverance of the Honourable Member I shall be driven, though with infinite reluctance, to the disclosure of circumstances which I should otherwise think it my duty to conceal." The atmosphere of the House had become tense. "Whenever the motion should be agitated I am ready to avow my determined and fixed resolution to give it my absolute negative."

Sheridan was quickly aware of Pitt's indiscretion. He had made an announcement to the effect that he would refuse something which had not had the privilege of debate. This was unparliamentary; and uneasy as he was, Sheridan was politician enough to be obliged to discountenance his opponent by making him aware of his indiscretion.

He must attempt to hide his concern in his attack on Pitt. "Some honourable gentlemen have thought proper to express their anxious wishes that the business should be deferred" he pointed out, "but Mr. Pitt has erected an insuperable barrier to such a step. It would seem to the country, to all Europe, that the Prince had yielded to terror what he had denied to argument. What could the world think of such conduct, but that he has fled from the enquiry and dare not face his accusers? But if such was the design of these threats, I believe they will find the author of them has as much mistaken the feelings as the conduct of the Prince."

There was excitement throughout the House.

Sheridan sought to hide his dismay, but he knew that the question of the Prince's marriage would now most certainly be brought forward.

He went with all speed to Carlton House and there gave the Prince a detailed account of what had happened in the House.

"There can be no hope now," said Sheridan, "that the question will not be brought up in the House. We have to have an answer."

The Prince grew pale with rage and scarlet with mortification.

"Rolle!" he cried. "Who is this fellow? Some country yokel! What have my affairs to do with him? Why cannot he keep his silly mouth shut? The only thing I am asking is the payment of my debts. What has any other matter to do with it? What concern is it of theirs?"

"Your Highness," replied Sheridan, "the question will be asked. What we have to concern ourselves with, is how it is going to be answered."

The Prince was silent. He was well informed enough to understand the issue at stake. To admit to the marriage was disaster. Maria ... a Catholic! It was enough to put an end to the Hanoverian dynasty. Why should the Hanoverians be the rulers if they were tainted by Catholicism? It was the sole reason why the Stuarts had been spurned.

Was ever a man in such a predicament? He had to deny his marriage or run the risk of losing his crown!

The silly words of the ballad kept ringing through his head:

"I'd crowns resign, To call thee mine ..."

But Maria was his; lie could have Maria and the Crown; and in his heart he knew he had no intention of losing either if he could help it.

"Sherry," he cried, "for God's sake tell me what to do."

Sheridan looked at him steadily. It was clear that he was worried. It was no use calling on his Irish charm, his witty flattery now; this was a matter of a stark Yes or No.

"I can only hope," he said, "that it is possible to deny the marriage, for if it were not I think Your Highness would be in a very perilous position indeed."

The Prince could not look into Sheridan's eyes. He despised himself. He had sworn that he would stand by Maria; that they would go abroad and live if necessary; he would do anything tor her. But the Crown! How glittering it seemed at that moment. He saw a picture of himself going from one European country to another—a private gentleman, an outcast in a way, stripped of the glitter of royalty. Who would pay his debts then? And how was it possible for one brought up as he had been, one who had known from his nursery days that he would be King of England, to give up all that he had looked on as his right?

As for Maria ... he loved Maria; he would always love Maria. He thought of her as his wife and to all intents and purposes she was his wife. Surely that was enough? Maria herself, he told himself triumphantly, would not wish him to make the sacrifice. That was the answer. Maria would be most unhappy if he admitted to the marriage.

Yet he could not deny her completely.

"Sherry," he said, "how would it be possible for me to marry Maria? The Marriage Act makes it illegal."

Sherry was relieved. He had made the right answer. Sherry was as ready to prevaricate as the Prince himself. They would not discuss the fact that a marriage could be a true marriage in the eyes of the Church if not in those of the State and that any marriage which the Church considered a true one, was a marriage.

But no, this was easy. They must glide safely over the facts. There was so much at stake.

"Sherry," said the Prince, "Maria must be warned."

Sheridan agreed that this must be so.

"You are my very good friend. You have a way with words. Haven't we always said so? You, my dear Sherry, will be able to explain."

Sheridan was uneasy; but he saw the point. Fox would have to be warned; and from now on Fox would have to take over in the House. But Maria Fitzherbert disliked Fox and he Sheridan, was the one who must set about placating her.

A delicate task, but since the Prince insisted, he must do his best.

He went at once to Maria's house and told her that he had something of the utmost importance to say to her. He then explained what had happened in the House and how through the actions of Rolle and Pitt the question of her marriage to the Prince of Wales would be raised.

Maria was alarmed. She had sworn to the Prince that she would tell no one of the ceremony which had taken place; so she could not explain the truth to Sheridan.

"We all know that you are virtuous," said Sheridan, "and the Prince has shown by his conduct that he regards you as his wife. But it is, of course, of the utmost importance that no ceremony should have taken place ... no ceremony with a priest that is. There was a ceremony we know when the Prince attempted his life and he put a ring on your finger ... such a ceremony while full of significance to yourself and the Prince is not one which the country would frown on ..."

I'm getting involved, thought Sheridan. How difficult it is to meander round and round the point in order to avoid it!

"Sherry," she said, "I feel like a dog with a log tied round its neck."

"Maria, I would do anything in the world to protect you. But if it were admitted that a ceremony has taken place I should fear the consequences to His Highness."

She was silent. She thought of the ceremony, the solemn words she had spoken, the vows she had taken. To her it was a true marriage—and she had believed it was so to the Prince. She trusted in him; he had sworn so often to stand by her, to face his father and the whole country for her sake. Why then should he be afraid of Mr. Pitt and the House of Commons? But of course he was not afraid. She believed that when he was called upon to answer that question he would tell them that she was indeed his wife; that they had made their vows before a priest; that the marriage ceremony had been performed.

Sheridan was looking at her expectantly. But she would not tell him. She had sworn herself to secrecy; she could not betray Robert Burt and let him be submitted to the results of praemunire. It was for the Prince to stand up and make the avowal; it was for him to protect them all.

And he will, she thought. Of course he will.

"I am sure," she told Sheridan, "that the Prince will know how to act."

Fox listened to Sheridan's account of what had taken place. He heard of the interview with Maria.

"She did not say there was a ceremony?"

"She did not," replied Sheridan. "I believe the Prince has made her swear to secrecy."

Fox was thoughtful. "No doubt she is thinking of the ceremony with the ring at the time of the false suicide. That is what it must be. A hundred curses on this man Rolle and a thousand more on Pitt. But never fear, I shall know how to deal with this."

"I thought you would," said Sheridan. "I wish to God you'd been in the House on the 27th."

"I couldn't have done anything more than you did, if I had."

"It's that devil Pitt."

"Yes, it is often that devil Pitt. Cheer up, Sherry. You'll see the Fox at work. I always liked a fight; and believe me there's no one I'd rather have for my opponent than clever Mr. Pitt."

"Are you seeing the Prince?"

"No. I have what I need."

Fox was smiling slyly. Had there been a marriage ceremony?

That was not exactly the point as he saw it. What he believed was that there had to be a denial of the ceremony. That was imperative or the succession would be imperilled. A fine thing alter all the work he had done in bringing up the Prince to support the Whigs if Pitt attempted to divert the succession to the Duke of York, which he might well do if it were disclosed that the Prince of Wales had married a Catholic—for that was exactly what Fox would have done in Pitt's place.

The denial—a categorical denial was necessary, and he was going to make it. He had every reason to make it because he had in his possession a letter from the Prince of Wales dated 11th December 1785 in which His Highness most definitely stated that he had no intention of marrying Mrs. Fitzherbert. And as that letter had been written only a few days before the Prince and Mrs. Fitzherbert had quite clearly become lovers, that was all he needed for his case.

Alderman Newnham had announced that he would bring forward his motion concerning the debts of the Prince of Wales on April 30th; and that day saw a crowded House of Commons.

Fox was in his place and with him Sheridan; and there was an air of excitement as members waited for the expected duel between those two great politicians: Pitt and Fox; and more than anything for the revelation which must inevitably be made.

Alderman Newnham rose and began: "On Friday last much personal application was made to me from various quarters of the House to press me to forgo my purpose, and much has been said of the dangerous consequences which might result from the discussion of such a subject. One gentleman has gone so far as to contend that it would draw on questions affecting Church and State ..."

Members leaned forward in their seats; eyes were turned towards Fox and Sheridan; and when Newnham had finished speaking Fox was immediately on his feet.

Fox began by asking the House's indulgence for his absence on the previous Friday. He had not heard, he said, that a subject of so much delicacy and importance was to be alluded to.

"I should like the House to understand," he went on, "that I speak from the immediate authority of the Prince of Wales when I assure the House that there is no part of His Highness's conduct that he is afraid or unwilling to have investigated."

He then went on to speak of the Prince's debts. His Highness had been amiable towards his father to whom he had been both dutiful and obedient; and he was prepared to give a general and fair account of his debts although the House would readily see how impossible it was for him to give details of every single item. He could assure the House that there was not a single case in His Highness's life which he would be ashamed to have known.

"With respect to the allusion to something full of danger to Church and State made by the honourable gentleman, one of the members for Devonshire, until that gentleman thinks proper to explain himself, it is impossible to say to what that allusion refers. I can only suppose it refers to that miserable calumny, a low malicious falsehood. In this House, where it is known how frequent and common falsehoods of the time are, I had hoped that a tale only fit to impose on the lowest persons in the street would not have gained the smallest portion of credit; but when it appears that an invention so monstrous, a report of a fact which has not the smallest degree of foundation, a report of a fact actually impossible to have happened, has been circulated with so much industry as to have made an impression on the minds of members of this House, it proves at once the uncommon pains taken by the enemies of His Highness to propagate the grossest and most malignant falsehoods to deprecate his character and injure him in the opinion of his country. When I consider that His Royal Highness is the first subject in the Kingdom, and the immediate heir to the throne. I am at a loss to imagine what species of party it was which could have fabricated so base and scandalous a calumny ... a tale in every particular so unfounded and for which there is not the shadow of anything like reality."

Mr. Pitt watched his opponent without betraying his feelings; he was, as usual, the calmest member of the House. Fox went on stressing his point, his eyes flashing with contempt and indignation.

"His Royal Highness has authorized me to declare that as a peer of Parliament, he is ready in the other House to submit to any, the most pointed questions, which can be put to him, or to afford His Majesty or His Majesty's ministers the fullest assurance of the utter falsehood of the fact in question, which never has, and which common sense must see never could have, happened."

When Fox sat down Pitt had little to say. He had achieved his purpose; the matter of the Prince's marriage had been brought up and denied by Fox, on, so said Fox, the Prince's authority. Rolle however, had something to say. He replied that he knew and they knew that there were certain laws of Parliament which forbade a marriage such as that which they had been discussing, but it was absurd to say that it could not have taken place. Therefore it was desirable that the matter should be elucidated.

Fox was immediately on his feet. "I do not deny the calumny in question merely with regard to the effect of existing laws, but I deny it in toto, in point of fact as well as in law. The fact not only never could have happened legally, but never did happen in any way whatsoever, and has from the beginning been a base and malicious falsehood."

Rolle retorted: "Has the Right Honourable gentleman spoken from direct authority?"

"I have spoken from direct authority," replied Fox.

It was enough.

Fox, friend and confidant of the Prince of Wales, had "on direct authority' denied the Prince's marriage to Mrs. Fitzherbert.

Fox left the House of Commons with the feeling of a man who has done what had to be done in the best possible manner.

Passing Brook's Club he decided to look in for a gamble before going to Chertsey to tell Lizzie about the day's proceedings.

No sooner had he entered the club than Orlando Bridgeman came up to him. Bridgeman's face was rather flushed and the young man looked extremely mortified.

"Charles," he said. "I've just heard your speech in the House."

"I daresay. Every member must have been present. I've rarely seen the place so crowded."

"But you were wrong"

"Wrong? What do you mean?"

"They were married."

"Nonsense."

"Oh yes, they were. I was at the wedding."

Fox looked sceptical.

"I assure you I was. It was on the 15th December. I went to Park Street with the Prince and waited outside to make sure that no one came into the house while it was taking place."

"Ah, but you weren't an actual witness."

"I tell you, Charles, it did happen. I swear it."

"You had better do no such thing. Your best plan is to forget all that happened on that night."

"But what of Maria ... Mrs. Fitzherbert?"

"If it took place ... she might as well forget it too."

"You couldn't have had the Prince's authority ..."

"I have the Prince's authority," said Fox. "Look here, my dear young man. This is a delicate matter ... a dangerous matter. You heard our friend Rolle. This could put the throne in danger ... or could have. I have dealt with it in the only way it is possible to deal with it."

"But what of that lady?"

"The Prince's mistress? Well, that's considered a very fortunate position for a young lady."

"Not Maria!"

Fox shrugged his shoulders. Then he was stern suddenly. "I should advise you not to tell anyone else what you have told me. Weren't you sworn to secrecy?"

"Why, yes."

"Well then, keep your own vows and don't worry about anyone else's."

Fox did not go on into Brook's but decided to go straight to Chertsey. So the deceitful young romantic had gone through a ceremony after all; and he had not told Fox. Well, it was fortunate he had not, because that declaration had had to be made; and it was easier making it when one believed one might be speaking the truth and far more difficult if one knew one were lying. So, a few days after he had written that letter— four days to be precise—he had gone through a ceremony of marriage!

Put not your trust in Princes, thought Fox. But that he should have deceived me so utterly!

Now he will have to face the fury of his lady; and it is no use his asking kind Mr. Fox to help him escape from that.

Fox had left it to Sheridan and Earl Grey to go to Carlton House to give the Prince an account of what had taken place in the House.

He received them eagerly and was by no means put out when he heard how Fox had denied his marriage.

In fact he was relieved. That matter was settled then. And that other? What of his debts?

Sheridan replied that he did not think there would be much difficulty about that. It was almost certain that a sum of money would be granted for their settlement; all that remained was for them to see it was adequate.

When they had left him, the Prince wrote to Fox telling him that he had heard through Sheridan and Grey an account of the proceedings in the House, and that he felt more comfortable because of this. He believed that some terms were likely to be proposed and if Charles would call on him in the next day at two he would find him at home. He signed himself "Ever affectionately yours, George P."

But when he had despatched the letter he thought of Maria who would now know what had happened in the House of Commons because everyone would be talking of it.

It was not so easy, not so comfortable as he had been thinking it. Something would have to be done about Maria.

He must go to see her without delay. He must be the first to tell her what had happened.

When she came to greet him her hands outstretched, he grasped them both and embraced her.

She could not have heard. Thank God, he was here in time.

He laughed suddenly—a little unnaturally. "What do you think Charles Fox has done? He has been to the House and denied that you and I are man and wife. Did you ever hear of such a thing?"

Maria released herself from his embrace and stood very still r looking at him questioningly. He felt the colour flood his face; he knew that he had betrayed himself. Maria believed that Fox had been authorized to do what he had done and she guessed on whose authority.

Still she did not speak. She stood as though she were a lifeless-statue.

"Maria!" he cried. "Maria!"

She had known that Newnham had raised the matter in the House of Commons; she knew the issues which were at stake. She had believed in him, this young gay romantic lover who-had declared so many times that he would resign his crown for her sake; she had talked to him of her beliefs, her religion, that in her which had made her leave the country to escape him. He knew full well her principles; she had thought he understood since he had arranged that ceremony which was a true marriage in the eyes of the Church and therefore in hers and—she had believed—in his.

But he had denied it ... denied it ever had taken place! She, a deeply religious woman, who believed in the sanctity of the marriage tie had agreed to live with him only if she were married to him, and he had wished the marriage to take place; he had wanted a true marriage as she had!

And now he had denied it. He had betrayed her. He had allowed that man whom she had always looked upon as her enemy to get up in the House of Commons and tell the world that she was not the Prince's true wife; she was his mistress. He had had many mistresses, the most famous of them the notorious Perdita Robinson—and she, Maria Fitzherbert, would now be said to be one of them.

"Maria," he continued, "listen to me. Fox has done this ...

Fox. He has said this. I did not know he was going to say it. It he had consulted me ..."

"He has said it." Her voice sounded quiet and calm. "He has dishonoured me ... publicly."

"But Maria, it is only Fox ..."

"Only Fox! Only the man whose word carries more weight than any except Pitt's!"

The Prince's eyes filled with tears. "Maria, my beloved, can you blame me for Fox's misdeeds?"

"But you knew. You must have known."

"I swear it, Maria. I did not know. He did not mention the matter to me." He began throwing his arms about in dramatic gestures; he threw himself on to a couch and wept. "That you should believe this of me! Haven't I sworn ..."

"Yes," said Maria, "you have sworn."

"And can you believe that I would forget my vows?" He was on his feet, embracing her. "You cannot break my heart, Maria. You know I won't live without you. Don't you trust me? Oh, Maria, how can you treat me like this? You doubt my word. You believe Fox ... rather than me. What of your vows, Maria?"

"So you did not know? You are not in this ... plot to betray me?"

"Maria!"

He looked so appealing with the tears on his cheeks; he cried so elegantly; he had had so much practice in the art of weeping and he never did it ungracefully. His conduct since the ceremony had given her every reason to believe that he was devoted to her. He had even reformed his wild ways a little to please her. He was young; her maternal feelings were aroused; she was relenting.

It was Fox who had done this. She had always known he was an enemy. How wrong of her to blame the Prince for Fox's misdeeds.

She kissed his cheek lightly.

It was enough. He flung his arms about her.

"Now I am happy," he said.

But it was only a respite. The next day she had a full report of Fox's speech. "On direct authority," Fox had said. That could mean only one thing. Fox would never have dared stand up in the House of Commons and declare he had direct authority to deny the Prince's marriage if that authority had not come from the Prince himself.

When the Prince called on her he was surprised by the change in her and he knew it was not going to be so easy to explain this to Maria.

"So it is true," she said. "You have conspired with your friends to betray me."

"I can explain ..."

"There is nothing you can say which will explain it."

"Maria, it makes no difference to us."

"It makes every difference to us. I think you had better leave me now. I do not wish to see you again."

"You don't mean that."

She was fierce suddenly. "I certainly mean it. Do you think I wish to live with a man who denies his marriage to me? If you are ashamed of it—that is an end to it. Go back to Mr. Fox. Drink with him on the success of your plan. I have my marriage certificate. What if I sent that to Mr. Pitt? But you need have no fear, I gave my word that as far as I was concerned it should remain a secret. I keep my word. And now, I wish to be alone."

The Prince stared at her, dumbfounded. "Maria, what has happened? I have never seen you like this before."

"You know full well what has happened. And I have never before been betrayed in this way. Did you hear me? I no longer wish you to remain here."

"Now, Maria, please ... I can explain."

"I daresay you can think up further lies. You are very skilled in that."

"Oh, that you could speak to me like this!"

"I have told you I have no wish to speak to you at all. I have finished with speaking to you."

"You can say this to me ... who would do anything in the world to please you?"

"The only way in which you could please is by leaving me ... this moment."

"Oh, my fierce Maria!"

She threw him off impatiently. The charm, the tears, the protestations of undying affection—they were no good now. She did not believe in them any more.

"Maria, I will do anything in the world for you ..."

"Except acknowledge me as your wife?"

"Fox made that declaration in the House ... because ... because he had to. It was Pitt who was making trouble. Don't you see ... if they had admitted to the marriage, on account of your religion there would have been trouble ... about the succession, Maria."

"That was an aspect I pointed out to you before our wedding."

"This was in the House of Commons."

"Of course it was the House of Commons. Where else would such an issue be brought up? You knew it when you married me and now you pretend to be surprised. I want to hear no more. Go ... I will not listen."

"You shall listen, Maria. Very soon I may be King and my first action will be to abolish the Marriage Act. I will make you a Duchess. We will have another ceremony, and then ..."

"You talk like a child or a fool. Do you think a Catholic Queen would be more acceptable than a Catholic Princess of Wales? But that is not the point. You have denied our marriage. This is an outrage to my honour and to my religion. I have nothing more to say, except that I shall do nothing to betray your perfidy. Your secret is safe with me. But I do not wish to see you again."

"Maria," he cried piteously, but she had gone.

The Prince went back to Carlton House and summoned several of his friends, among them Sheridan, Grey, Sir Philip Francis and Lord Stourton.

When they arrived they found him pacing up and down in a distraught manner.

"It's Maria," he cried. "I have never seen her like this before.

She is like a tigress. She has said she won't see me again. What am I going to do?"

Sheridan said: "It will pass. In a few days she will be ready to be friends again."

The Prince shook his head. "I know Maria. She is determined. She has these damned principles. I know she means what she says."

"She is devoted to Your Highness. She will never refuse to see you."

"I know Maria," said the Prince blankly. "You remember how she left England ... and stayed away for a year? Oh, my God, what if she goes away again. What am I going to do? Some of you must see her. Explain ..."

"Explain what, Your Highness?" asked Grey. "The only explanation she will accept is your repudiation of Fox's statement. Your Highness will see that that is impossible."

"I did not give him authority ..." cried the Prince.

Grey was a man who spoke his mind. He said: "Fox had a letter from Your Highness four days before the marriage was alleged to have taken place. That is his defence for speaking as he did."

"A letter..." said the Prince, his dismay apparent. He remembered now. He frowned at Grey. That man had always been too frank for him. Not like Sherry, who always said the pleasant thing whatever he was thinking.

"Your Highness had to make the choice," said Grey bluntly. "Acknowledging your marriage or facing the threat of losing the Crown. Fox chose the only course."

"I did not direct him to do so. That's what Maria must be made to understand. One of you must explain to her. You, Francis ... You go ... You go now ... Now, this minute ... and come straight back here."

Sir Philip Francis looked uneasy but could not very well disobey the Prince's command.

He went, and during his absence the Prince and his friends discussed the affair; the Prince, seeking loopholes, by which he could persist in keeping quiet about his marriage and so keep his chances of the succession, storming and weeping, telling his friends how he could not live without Maria and that something would have to be done.

They listened with apparent sympathy, but there was not one of them who did not know that to own publicly to the marriage would be fatal to the Prince and the Whigs—however much that party had attempted to dissociate itself from the affair.

The Prince must see reason; he must get over this mad infatuation for a religious woman; or she must cast aside her principles and allow herself to be accepted as his mistress.

In due course Sir Philip Francis returned to Carlton House.

"Well, Francis, well?" cried the Prince.

"She is furious. She says she has no wish to see Your Highness ever again."

The Prince wailed and threw himself on to the couch, covering his face with his hands.

"She said that Fox has rolled her in the kennel like a street walker and that he has lied. Every word he had said was a lie."

"She believes every word Fox said was a lie," said the Prince hopefully.

"Even so," Grey pointed out, "Your Highness would have to make a public declaration that this was so to satisfy her."

Trust Grey to dash all hopes to the ground.

"What am I going to do? I must do something. Sherry, what can I do?"

Sheridan said soothingly: "I doubt not in time it will blow over. She will forget it. She will realize that this is the only way..."

The Prince was looking trustingly at Sheridan.

Then he said: "If it was brought up in the House again. If it could be modified ..."

Lord Stourton said that he did not see how it could be modified. It was a statement which unfortunately could only have one answer: Yes or No.

"There must be some way. Touch on the marriage lightly ... and make sure that Maria is spoken of with respect. Charles went too far. There was no need for him to go so far. Grey, you could explain it to the House."

"Your Highness, it would be an impossibility."

The Prince's eyes were angry. Grey frustrated him at every turn. "It seems you are determined to make difficulties," he said coldly.

"Your Highness, the difficulties arc already made."

"You could do it. You could modify ..."

"Modify," cried Grey. "Will Your Highness explain what you mean by modify? I fear I cannot see how this could be done."

"But you will think of something."

"I regret Your Highness that I cannot do so and I think it a grave mistake to bring this matter up in the House again."

"You seem determined not to help, Grey," said the Prince coldly.

He turned to Sheridan who, during the altercation between Grey and the Prince, seemed to have been trying to shrink further into his chair.

"You'll do it, Sherry?"

Oh, God, thought Sheridan. What am I let in for now?

"Your Highness, let us consider the matter."

The Prince brightened. "Dear Sherry, I knew I could rely on you. A snub to Grey, but Grey was not a man to fawn on Princes. Not like poor old Sherry, thought Sheridan, who has come up in the world, from theatre manager to Prince's crony on Irish blarney and an ability to juggle with words. He had to think quickly now: Face the House on this matter which was already concluded or lose the friendship of the Prince of Wales, who would one day be King. Grey had already chosen. Well, Grey was a man of background and political ambitions; Grey could doubtless afford to throw away the friendship of the Prince. Sheridan could not. He was a born gambler in any case. He would back the Prince.

"I will do what I can," he promised.

"Dearest Sherry!"

"But I think Your Highness will agree with me that the matter should not be brought up until after Fox has secured the payment of your debts."

The Prince reluctantly agreed to this. He knew his dear friend Sherry was right; and no one had such a way with words as he had.

When Sherry had spoken in the House, Maria would feel happier. She would see him again. She would give him a chance to explain. All would be well between them. They would go down to Brighton together; and if his debts were paid he would give her a fine house of her own; he would make some alterations to the Marine Pavilion.

It would be wonderful to live like a Prince again ... with Maria.

Mr. Pitt called on the King.

"Your Majesty will share my relief," said the Prime Minister, "that this unfortunate matter of His Royal Highness's affairs has come to an end. He has, through Mr. Charles James Fox, given us a complete denial of the marriage with Mrs. Fitzherbert. Therefore he has not, as we feared, acted in defiance of Your Majesty's own Royal Marriage Act."

"It is a relief, eh?" replied the King. "I feared he might have married the woman. He's capable of it, Mr. Pitt. Quite capable"

"I feared so, too," said Pitt. "And now this matter of his debts. They amount to £161,000 which I propose shall be paid by Parliament; and £60,000 shall be set aside for His Highness's expenses at Carlton House. If Your Majesty is agreeable to this, I feel the time has come to raise His Highness's income and suggest an additional £10,000 a year."

The King said he thought this was very generous and the young rip ought to be satisfied with that.

"There is another matter which I wished to discuss with Your Majesty," went on Mr. Pitt, "and that is the discord which exists between Your Majesty and His Highness. This is undesirable and it seems that now is a good moment to change it. It has been publicly stated that the Prince, contrary to rumour, has not defied Your Majesty's Marriage Act. You have sanctioned the payments of his debts and increased his income. There is therefore no reason for discord in the family. There should be a reunion—a making-up of differences. This, I think, Sir, is very important and the moment is ripe for it."

The King looked proudly at his Mr. Pitt, and silently thanked God for him. Momentarily he compared him wtih dear old North—good friend, but what a blunderer!- and what the King felt he needed more and more as the weeks passed was a good steady prop. Mr. Pitt enabled him to gel away to Kew and Windsor. Mr. Pitt was fast becoming a powt i in the land. Mr. Pitt kept the Fox at bay. Good Mr. Pitt!

"You are right I am sure, Mr. Pitt. There shall be a family reunion. The. Prince shall come to Windsor and I will make sure that the family receive him with friendship."

Mr. Pitt bowed and took his leave.

Parliament had agreed to settle the Prince's debts and Alderman Newnham rose to say that he was happy that the motion he had been proposing to bring forward—that of the Prince's debts—was now no longer necessary.

Members of the House expressed their satisfaction.

"I readily concur in the joy the honourable gentleman has expressed," said Mr. Pitt.

"We must all feel the highest satisfaction," added Mr. Fox.

Mr. Rolle, however, while commenting on his satisfaction, added: "But I temper that satisfaction by making it clear that if it should hereafter appear that any concession has been made, humiliating to the country or dishonourable in itself, I would be the first man to stand up and stigmatize it as it deserves."

There were groans through the House. Why could not the blunt old countryman leave the matter alone.

Mr. Pitt, however, suavely rose to assure the honourable member that this was not so and he need have no fears.

Sheridan knew that this was his only opportunity. He must speak before the matter was closed. How much better, he thought, to let it alone. But he dared not. He must speak. His friendship with the Prince was at stake.

He stood up. He was aware of Fox watching him warily. Fox would know exactly why he was doing this.

"I cannot believe," began Sheridan, "that there exists on this day but one feeling and one sentiment in the House, that off heartfelt satisfaction at the auspicious conclusion to which the business has been brought. His Royal Highness wishes it to be known that he feels perfect satisfaction at the prospect before him and he also desires it to be distinctly remembered that no attempt has at any time been made to screen any part of his conduct, actions or situation ..."

The members were looking askance at Sheridan. This had all been said before. Why repeat it? Sheridan himself hurried on to the purpose of his speech.

"While his Royal Highness's feelings have been doubtless considered on this occasion, I must take the liberty of saying, however much some may think it a subordinate consideration, that there is another person entitled in every honourable and delicate mind to the same attention. I will not otherwise attempt to describe this person except to affirm that ignorance or vulgar malice alone could have persevered in attempting to injure one on whose conduct truth could fix no just reproach and whose character claims, and is entitled to, the truest and most general respect."

Eyebrows were raised; lips were curled in cynical smiles. What was Sheridan suggesting? Mrs. Fitzherbert was the Prince's mistress, yet at the same time she was a paragon of virtue, an example to all women?

Even the jaunty Sheridan could not hide the fact that he was embarrassed as he sat down to silence.

But when he presented himself at Carlton House the Prince embraced him.

"My dear friend," he cried. "I knew I could rely on you. I have had a report of your speech in the house. Maria will be delighted, I know. I but waited to see you and thank you in person before I go to call on her."

Sheridan went home in high spirits. He had made a bit of a fool of himself in the House, but that could not be helped. He stood higher with the Prince than ever before; and that was good because Fox's influence was waning fast.

Meanwhile the Prince was calling on Maria; and he had the discomfiture to be told that Mrs. Fitzherbert was not at home.

Not at home to the Prince of Wales! It was incredible. But she had meant it when she had said that she would not live with him. A few words spoken by Sheridan would not influence her. She thought they were absurd. Did they really think that Sheridan's getting up in the House and referring to her as a pattern of womanhood could affect her when Fox had stated on direct authority that she was living in sin with the Prince?

No, Maria was wounded. She had been betrayed.

The Prince was mistaken if he thought he could treat her so and be forgiven. She had made it clear in the first place that she would not live with him without marriage; and since by his action he had shown that he considered himself not married to her, she could not live with him.

Fox at Chertsey was in a mood of resignation.

"What a mess, Liz! What a mess!"

"You regret having denied the marriage?" asked Lizzie.

"It was the only thing to do. If it had come out that they had actually gone through a ceremony the Commons would be in an uproar. God knows what would have happened. The people always fancied the Stuarts more than the Guelphs, though our Prince is more popular than most of them have been. But they would never have accepted a Catholic marriage. No, it had to be said; and it was my lot to say it."

"Our Little George is something of a coward, is he not?"

"You know him as well as I, Liz."

Lizzie smiled, remembering that time when she had briefly been the Prince's mistress and had accumulated quite a little fortune out of the adventure which was now helping to keep a home together for herself and Charles.

"Perhaps not quite," she said. f He has a kind heart but he hates trouble. He'd help anyone out of a difficulty if he could without too much trouble, but he'd go to a great deal of trouble to protect himself."

"He's no fool. He realizes what's at stake. He knows that what has happened was the only way to get him out of a dangerous situation."

"But he has, by all accounts, lost his Maria."

"A temporary loss. She'll come round."

"She's no ordinary woman."

"A paragon of virtue according to Sherry"

"He did very well in the circumstances."

"Poor Sherry. I'm glad it was his job and not mine. Yes, he did well too ... considering the position. How he kept a straight face I can't imagine."

"He was thinking of his own future, that was why. He has to keep the Prince's favour ... for what is he going to do without Mr. Fox there to support him."

"Eh?"

"Well, Mr. Fox will, I prophesy, no longer be the close associate of His Royal Highness. Maria would think it rather strange, would she not, that one who had so displeased the Prince should continue to enjoy his friendship."

"You're too clever, Liz."

"How can one be too clever? I merely state the obvious. If he wants to keep Maria he has to be displeased with Mr. Fox— and you can bet even higher than your usual stakes that Mrs. Fitzherbert, who never did love Mr. Fox, will now regard that gentleman with loathing. And since His Royal Highness must placate Maria ... well, you don't need me to go on, do you?"

He took her hand and smiled at her.

"No need at all," he said. "That is why I propose leaving the country. A change of scene will be very desirable."

She tried to hide her fears and he held out his hand to her.

"Liz," he said, "how would you like to go to Italy? We could study the art treasures of that country. I'll show you the Sistine chapel. We'll sit in the sun and drink their wine."

She was smiling; intensely happy.

"Oh, my God, Liz," he said. "You didn't think I would go without you ... anywhere?"