Other Women (8 page)

Maria Smythe (1756–1837) was a convent-educated girl from a good Catholic family. Catholicism was a difficult religion to practise in England towards the end of the eighteenth century. It was not illegal but there were no public Catholic services to attend and all marriages had to be performed as Anglican ones first or they were deemed illegal.

When she was 18 Maria fell in love with a handsome young man who had an estate and promised to look after her. His name was Edward Weld. The two underwent the obligatory first Anglican wedding and finished with a private Catholic service at her own home. All was set for a perfect life.

Not three months after the wedding took place, Edward was thrown from his horse and seriously injured. Maria, although distraught, nursed her husband until he died shortly after. Unfortunately, there had been an oversight. Because of their youth and the fact they hadn’t been married very long, Edward had forgotten to make provision for his wife in his will. He should have followed the normal procedure of fixing a percentage of his estate and fortune on Maria so she could live comfortably after his death. Instead everything went to Edward’s younger brother, who refused to give his sister-in-law anything.

In such a case there was only one viable option for a young woman and that was to return to her father’s house. Not long before she got there he had suffered a heart attack and it had left him partially paralysed. Maria was happy to tend her father and live a quiet life to mourn her husband.

Maria Fitzherbert

It was not to be. Maria’s aunt, Lady Isabella Sefton, decided it was not a healthy proposition for such an attractive young widow and dragged Maria out of her retirement to spend four months of the social season with her in town. Isabella had only her niece’s welfare in mind; although Maria didn’t have a dowry Isabella felt certain they would be able to find someone suitable for her.

The Earl of Sefton already had someone in mind, Thomas Fitzherbert: a widower, a Catholic, wealthy and of good reputation. He was ten years older than Maria. Fitzherbert came to dinner, sat next to Maria and found her quite delightful but also without affected airs. She was natural, sweet and modest. He asked the earl if he could pay his attentions to her.

They married on 24 June 1778, again with two ceremonies. Maria was 22. The first ceremony was conducted in public in the village church and then the Catholic one was held in Fitzherbert’s private chapel on his estate, Swynnerton Hall. It was another love match of two mature and quiet people. Within six months they were expecting a baby. Then Maria had a miscarriage. She went into a decline and her husband worried about her health. He decided she needed a change of scene and swept her off to London.

A popular activity amongst the wealthy socialites of London was to drive in a carriage through Hyde Park, particularly the south side’s Rotten Row (at the end of the eighteenth century this was a wide pathway some 4,541 feet long). Fitzherbert took his grieving wife for an afternoon to Rotten Row. Before long the couple became aware of a young man on horseback riding alongside them and staring very rudely at her. She ignored him. Later, her husband informed her that her admirer was the Prince of Wales and that he had a dreadful reputation as a womaniser and made no discrimination between married and unmarried. Maria was put on her guard. Her aunt also reinforced the warnings when she was told of the incident. The Prince of Wales was not a good man, even though he was heir to the throne of England.

In 1778 the Papists Act was passed in Parliament in an attempt to stem the intolerance towards the Catholic community. The act upset a lot of people and, just as Fitzherbert feared, there were public outbursts of anger and violence. It culminated in a series of riots in which the homes and businesses of Catholics were set fire to. One evening Maria’s brother-in-law came to their house in London in a terrible state, calling on her husband to come and help quell the fires and save people’s homes and lives. Ever ready to help, Fitzherbert rushed out into the night.

He returned in the morning, covered in ash, soot, black, burned and exhausted. Maria put him straight to bed, already fearing the worst. Within hours she had a doctor to see him, he was desperately ill. He was suffering from severe smoke inhalation. The doctor advised a change of climate as soon as possible, perhaps to the south of France.

Maria would have done anything to help her beloved husband recover, and having spent years at school in France she was more than proficient in the language. They settled in Nice. Thomas Fitzherbert knew he wouldn’t ever get better, he found it hard to breathe and was wracked with pain. He arranged for his London lawyer to visit him in Nice. Fitzherbert made sure Maria would be left very comfortable after he was gone. The bulk of the estate would pass to a younger brother, this was the usual way of things, but a nice amount was put aside for Maria.

At the age of 37 the heroic Fitzherbert died in the arms of his wife. She couldn’t get his body back to England so had to have him buried in France. As soon as she could, Maria took herself back to the convent where she had been educated, to be cared for by the kind nuns she knew so well. She longed for solitude. She had lost two husbands, both of whom she had loved and had been loved by. There were no children from either marriage to bring comfort to her.

It is highly likely that Maria would have stayed in France, but the French Revolution was looming and she was urged to go home to England as soon as she could. In 1783 she returned home only to find her pending arrival had been splashed across the society pages of the newspapers. It was the last thing she wanted.

Following this there were further newspaper items about the young, attractive widow and her fortune, speculating on who would be the first to woo her. All Maria wanted to do was to be left alone to grieve. Her aunt had other ideas, not to see her remarried necessarily, but she didn’t think it a good thing for her niece to be so wrapped up in her sorrow. They went to Covent Garden to the opera, sitting in a private box where Maria could watch without being gazed upon by a curious public, or so she thought. However, a pair of opera glasses was trained her way and the Prince of Wales spent the whole evening watching the beautiful young woman he had stared at in the park all those years before.

In the general bustle of leaving the theatre, the prince asked Maria’s uncle to introduce them. It was done unwillingly as the earl knew what the prince was up to. Maria for her part did not like the pushy young man.

The prince found Maria’s reluctance to see him very enticing. He was working himself up into a fixation with her. He enlisted the help of his dear friend Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire (and whose own story appears in this volume). Georgiana didn’t think much of the prince’s choice for his latest paramour but she agreed to hold a luncheon party and invite the widow – and to sit her next to the prince.

At the lunch Maria ignored her admirer as much as she could without being openly rude. She was heeding her friends’ warnings about him and alarm bells were ringing loudly. On her return home Maria’s aunt again warned her about the Prince’s reputation. The warning was hammered home when later that day a large bunch of flowers and a bracelet were delivered to Maria at her aunt’s house. She kept the flowers and sent a note thanking the prince for them, but returned the bracelet saying she couldn’t accept that kind of gift.

The prince was far from discouraged and made sure Maria was invited to more gatherings so that they could be thrown together. Despite herself Maria enjoyed the social activities; she even began to enjoy the prince’s company. He was an art lover, particularly of French art and this was one of Maria’s own passions. As their friendship grew, the prince sent her a miniature of himself set in a locket. Maria did not feel the need to send back this item of jewellery and she wore it often. Had she known it was almost identical, although smaller, to one that the prince had given to Perdita Robinson, she may have thought differently.

Maria told her priest of her growing fondness for the prince. He advised her to live a quieter life and move to the country, making accessibility to her more difficult. She took the advice but didn’t move far enough away. She settled on a house in Richmond and began to restore the gardens there. It was not more than a carriage ride, and no distance at all on horseback, so the prince was easily able to visit her in her country idyll. Maria continued to reject his now quite open declarations of love.

Rumours began to issue forth that the prince was so in love with the young widow that he was going to propose marriage. Whether he had any real intention of doing so had no bearing on the matter. He was not yet 25 and therefore could not marry anyone without his father’s (the king’s) permission. What is more, he could not legally marry a Catholic and keep his claim to the throne of England. There was huge opposition to having a Catholic monarch ruling in England. If he had married Maria without his father’s consent then the marriage could be declared null and void. Maria knew this and so did the prince. Yet it seems that the prince was a young man totally self-absorbed. It is doubtful whether he thought further than his immediate pleasure and if he could get Maria into bed he would marry her without thought of the consequences.

Maria, afraid of more rumours circulating to damage her reputation, took on a companion, an older woman, to act as chaperone for the prince’s visits. This meant Maria could begin to really enjoy the prince’s company. Instead of taking it slowly and steadily the prince began to pressure Maria with his assertions, that he needed her to help compensate for his lonely childhood. She sympathised but, wisely, would not give in.

Maria’s confessor advised her to go away again; France was his suggestion. She would go back to her convent and be safe. She told the prince that she did love him but that as they could never be married it was best for her to remove herself from temptation and leave him to fall in love with someone else. The prince’s response was to threaten to kill himself. In July 1784 he pierced his chest with an ornamental dagger, just enough to draw blood. He ordered his barber to dress the wound with used bandages so that the damage would look greater. He then sent a message to Maria that he was dying of a self-inflicted wound. She was horrified, worried but suspicious too. Her chaperone wasn’t available to go with her to see the prince so in desperation she called on the Duchess of Devonshire to go with her.

The scene of the prince, pale and lying still on a bed swathed in bloodied bandages, was enough to make Maria swoon, even if she hadn’t already nursed two husbands as they were dying. Yet surely she must have realised it was nothing more than a ruse to get her to do his bidding? Although trying not to judge her, one has to wonder why she wasn’t furiously indignant that he dared to pretend he was dying when both her husbands, who had been good men, had suffered real fatal injuries.

Perhaps Maria was so truly in love with the prince that she was prepared to be duped. As she was about to leave the prince swore his love for her and promised he would marry her, giving his word on the ring he kissed and placed on her finger (and which he had to ask the Duchess of Devonshire for). Maria took her leave. As she was getting into her carriage Lord Southampton ran after her saying she was to sign a document to the effect that she would marry the prince. The duchess took her to Devonshire House where the paperwork was prepared and signed by Maria before witnesses. Tired, distraught and not thinking properly, Maria Fitzherbert had unwittingly signed the document that would seal her fate.

On returning home to finish packing, and thinking hard upon what had happened, Maria realised she had been tricked. If the document got into the hands of the king she could be arrested. It was illegal to enter into an agreement to marry the prince without the king’s permission and she would be seen to be as guilty as the prince. He would be admonished but she could serve a prison sentence.

France and the convent seemed safer and more attractive than ever. Maria finished her packing and took off without leaving a clue as to where she was going. The prince pleaded with his father to let him go after her but, of course, the request was refused. The king was anxious for the nonsense to be over and once again told his son it was time he married a suitable Protestant princess. It fell on deaf ears. The king changed tactic and promised to pay off his son’s outrageous gambling debts, as well as give him money to help with his extensive renovations of the prince’s residence at Carlton House. Money talked and the prince agreed to settle down, yet he did not take any steps towards fulfilling his promise.

Instead of searching for a suitable wife the prince sent his friend, the Duke d’Orléans to track down the missing Maria. When her place of hiding was discovered the prince bombarded her with passionate letters imploring her to return to him.

Finally, worn down by his entreaties and wanting to go home, Maria decided she might be able to undergo a morganatic marriage with the prince. This would mean that any children from the union would be legitimate but would not be able to inherit from their father, and therefore not pose a threat to the throne. She asked her priest whether such a secret marriage would be recognised by her Church and was assured that it would, although it would be considered illegal by the law of England.