The wedding ceremony over they set out for England but unfortunately were obliged to travel through France—where the Revolution was raging. On more than one occasion their retinue was held up by a bloodthirsty mob and only the proof that they were not French royalists attempting to escape but an English Prince and a German Princess who had no concern with French internal affairs saved their lives, though the royal trappings were torn from their carriages and only then were they reluctantly allowed to escape.

It was November by the time they reached England and there another ceremony must take place; in this the Prince of Wales was selected to give the bride away.

The night before the ceremony the Duke of York was at Carlton House where he gave an account of his adventures to his brother.

'By God, George,' he said, 'revolution is a fearful thing. One doesn't realize it until one is in the midst of it. If it came here...'

The Prince was horrified at the thought.

'The royal family of France ... treated as they are. If you could have seen those people ... I never saw such fanatical hatred. It brings home to you how quickly the mob can rise up. The mob is always there ... that element of the people that

wants to take what others have, the envious, the bloodthirsty. By God, George, when those people surrounded our coach it was an experience I shall never forget. One has to be watchful of the people. One has to please the people one rules. No doubt of it.'

The Prince thought of the crowds which had surrounded his carriage after the King's recovery. Murderous lot! They wanted their rulers to behave according to a certain code. The Gordon Riots which had happened some years ago ... that was the nearest England had come to the sort of thing that was happening now in France. The cry of 'No Popery' had filled the streets. The people of England wanted a Protestant monarchy; they had turned out the Stuarts because they were Catholics. And he, the Prince of Wales, had gone through a ceremony of marriage with a Papist. Maria ... everything came back to Maria. He was unpopular with the people because of Maria.

He changed the subject hastily. He hated to talk of unpleasant things.

'Well, here you are safe and sound—and a bridegroom. Do you love your wife?'

The Duke grimaced. 'To tell the truth I do not know whether I shall even be able to tolerate her. She is an arrogant little creature, very much aware of her dignity. And she is threatening to surround herself with animals ... dogs ... not one or two ... but twenty of them. And monkeys, if you please. She prefers them to the human animal, I do declare.'

'My poor Frederick!'

'You may well condone. Lucky George with your Maria.'

'Maria is a woman in a million. I shall expect your Frederica to receive her and treat her with the dignity due to ...'

'To the Princess of Wales? You can be sure I shall do my best to insist on this. But she is a selfwilled woman.'

'Maria will expect to be treated as her sister-in-law.'

'I will do my best,' promised Frederick.

The next day at the marriage ceremony the bride was given away by the Prince of Wales. The streets were lined with people to see the bride and groom, for it was believed that since the Prince of Wales had contracted a marriage with

M

Maria Fitzhcrbert which could never be acknowledged, this plain little German Princess might well one day be the Queen of England.

Frederick was soon wishing he had never married. He had believed that at least he could tolerate his wife, but that was not possible when she filled their house with animals of all descriptions. He lost count of the number of dogs, whose habits were none too clean; she had cages of parrots in every room; monkeys roamed through corridors and hung on bedposts and banisters.

Moreover, although she had received Mrs. Fitzherbert she showed quite clearly that she considered her merely the mistress of the Prince of Wales and that she had no intention of becoming on intimate terms with a woman in such a position.

Maria was incensed. It was not often that she lost her temper but she did over the Duchess of York. How dared the plain malodorous creature treat her with such haughty contempt! The Prince must insist that she stop that.

The Prince spoke to the Duke of York who declared that he had done everything in his power to make his wife treat Maria with due respect; she simply refused.

'But, Fred, you could insist.'

'I do assure you, George, that I cannot make her do what she has decided not to. She is the most stubborn, arrogant creature you ever set eyes on.'

'Try,' said the Prince, 'because it upsets Maria.'

The Queen was delighted with the Duchess's attitude towards Maria and encouraged her in it because she knew it upset the Prince. As for the Duchess, who in any case was determined to have her own way, she maliciously made it more clear than ever that she regarded Maria Fitzherbert as her brother-in-law's mistress. She herself stood a very good chance of becoming Queen and she did not forget it. No one was going to dictate to her.

She quarrelled with her husband over it. But then she quarrelled with him over many things. He hated her beloved animals and was always pointing out their unclean habits. If

he did not like it he could go, she told him. They Were more important to her than he was.

The Prince of Wales believed that Frederick could have in sisted on his wife's accepting Maria, in spite of Frederick's vehement assurance that he could do nothing; and for the first time in their lives a coolness sprang up between the two brothers.

Frederick retaliated by leaving his wife alone as much as possible and seeking new friends with whom he could continue the life of wild extravagance he had led before his marriage, and the Prince of Wales brooded on the deterioration in his friendship with this beloved brother.

It all came back to Maria, he told himself. Memories of the mob which had surrounded his carriage; echoes of accounts told by his brother of the journey through France; he should have been a model prince married to a princess; they should have children. Children! That was what he missed. His friendship with Fred was impaired. Who would have thought that possible?

And all because of Maria.

Sometimes a thought came into his head which he tried not to examine too closely.

It was: Is she worth it?

The Prince consoled himself by going down to Brighton. He would arrive in early spring and stay until late autumn. He came to London only when it was absolutely necessary and a large portion of Carlton House was closed for the greater part of the year. Maria was constantly with him, living in the house close to the Pavilion. He made extensive alterations to the place and it was beginning to look like an oriental palace and very different from old Kemp's Farm which Weltje had discovered some years ago. The people of Brighton, in contrast to those of London, continued to treat him as though he were their king—and Mrs. Fitzherbert their queen.

Racing provided one of his most enjoyable pastimes until a scandal at Newmarket interrupted his pleasure in the sport. Two days before a big race his horse, Escape, was beaten by

two outsiders, with the result that on the day of the race the odds were against it. There was great consternation in racing circles when Escape effortlessly came in first, and unpleasant comment followed when it was learned that the Prince and his jockey, Sam Chifney, had each made a fortune on the race. The murmurings were, in fact, against Chifney rather than the Prince, but when an investigation was made, nothing could be proved against the jockey. The rumours, however, persisted and the Prince, so humiliated and disgusted, sold his stud and gave up racing, although he kept a stable of hunters which he used regularly.