lling an engagement founded, not on personal preference, but on
family policy and reverence for the wishes of the dead, the bride and
bridegroom had small cause for rejoicing. During the eighteen months of
tranquil seclusion which followed her marriage, the favourite occupation
of the Duchess was visiting and relieving the poor. In January, 1801, the
Czar Paul, in compliance with the demand of Napoleon, who was just then
the object of his capricious enthusiasm, ordered the French royal family
to leave Mittau. Their wanderings commenced on the 21st, a day of bitter
memories; and the young Duchess led the King to his carriage through a
crowd of men, women, and children, whose tears and blessings attended them
on their way.

[The Queen was too ill to travel. The Duc d'Angouleme took another route
to join a body of French gentlemen in arms for the Legitimist cause.]

The exiles asked permission from the King of Prussia to settle in his
dominions, and while awaiting his answer at Munich they were painfully
surprised by the entrance of five old soldiers of noble birth, part of the
body-guard they had left behind at Mittau, relying on the protection of
Paul. The "mad Czar" had decreed their immediate expulsion, and,
penniless and almost starving, they made their way to Louis XVIII. All
the money the royal family possessed was bestowed on these faithful
servants, who came to them in detachments for relief, and then the Duchess
offered her diamonds to the Danish consul for an advance of two thousand
ducats, saying she pledged her property "that in our common distress it
may be rendered of real use to my uncle, his faithful servants, and
myself." The Duchess's consistent and unselfish kindness procured her
from the King, and those about him who knew her best, the name of "our
angel."

Warsaw was for a brief time the resting-place of the wanderers, but there
they were disturbed in 1803 by Napoleon's attempt to threaten and bribe
Louis XVIII. into abdication. It was suggested that refusal might bring
upon them expulsion from Prussia. "We are accustomed to suffering," was
the King's answer, "and we do not dread poverty. I would, trusting in
God, seek another asylum." In 1808, after many changes of scene, this
asylum was sought in England, Gosfield Hall, Essex, being placed at their
disposal by the Marquis of Buckingham. From Gosfield, the King moved to
Hartwell Hall, a fine old Elizabethan mansion rented from Sir George