The Story of Queen Mary II and the Mysterious Jean Tijou (and related matters) by Malcolm Adrian Fay - REVIEW
By Victoria Walsh
In the sphere of historical inquiry, few works dare to intertwine documented fact with speculative reasoning as boldly, and with such baroque elegance, as The Story of Queen Mary II and the Mysterious Jean Tijou. Malcolm Adrian Fay does not merely present a book; he offers what he terms a “historical case file” - a genre-defying composition in which archival records, circumstantial evidence, artistic symbolism, and logical conjecture combine to illuminate one of the most tantalising enigmas of 17th-century Britain: the concealed life and alleged royal affiliation of the elusive artist-blacksmith Jean Tijou.
Fay’s research is nothing short of obsessive, and in this case, that is the highest possible compliment. The sheer depth, breadth and intensity of his scholarship fuel a narrative that persistently challenges the reader to reassess the established narrative concerning Queen Mary II, King William III, and the artistic legacy of post-Restoration England.
The central part of this tale reveals Tijou’s real identity. Fay is convinced Huntingdon Shaw and Jean Tijou are one and the same. If that was not enough, Shaw is actually the royal illegitimate son of King Charles II and Lady Jane Fisher, who was conceived in Scotland, born in the Dutch Republic, nursed in England, and raised in France. If this is true, then the ramifications are considerable.
So it’s worth taking a moment, not least because it implies that Shaw, under the alias of Tijou, was dispatched to the Netherlands on a covert royal mission to provide emotional and strategic support to the beleaguered Princess Mary, who was discontentedly married to William of Orange.
Such a proposition may strike the reader as fantastical, yet Fay approaches it with a meticulousness and gravity that command respect. He constructs a mosaic of sources, starting with court records, genealogical fragments, correspondence, technical ironwork analysis, and iconographic interpretation - each piece contributing to an argument being built with painstaking care and intuitive insight. In writing this book, the author does not portray himself as a neutral chronicler, but instead as a passionate advocate for a forgotten narrative, urging the reader to consider that official histories are often crafted to obscure as much as they reveal.
So much of the book’s emotional weight stems from Fay’s contention that Queen Mary II bore a secret child, named Louis Fordrin, fathered by none other than Huntingdon Shaw. Fordrin, he claims, grew to become a respected blacksmith and artist in France, unknowingly carrying forward a hidden branch of the Stuart bloodline. Fay further alleges that the revelation of this affair and the child’s existence led to the queen’s untimely and suspicious death. Almost certainly murdered at the hands of her husband, King William III. This grim possibility, together with Shaw’s sudden exile, is rendered with the solemnity and vividness of a Jacobean tragedy.
Among the book’s most compelling chapters is Fay’s exegesis of a portrait of Queen Mary painted by Caspar Netscher. The author dissects the image with forensic intensity: every element, the angle of her gaze, the tension of her bodice, the positioning of drapery, and the presence of pearl earrings are scrutinised for symbolic meaning. Fay contends that the pearls were a gift from Shaw to commemorate the birth of their son and that Mary’s subtle yet knowing presentation of them in multiple portraits was a silent message of enduring love. Whether one fully embraces his conclusions or not, it is difficult not to admire the ambition and romanticism of the reading that will almost certainly make you look at historical paintings in a different light.
Fay is equally passionate in his examination of Shaw’s work as an artisan. The Fountain Garden Screen at Hampton Court, which he attributes to Shaw (or Tijou), is explored not merely as an object of artistic merit but as a cypher for concealed truths. Fay controversially claims that it was not fabricated in England at all, but rather in the Dutch Republic and subsequently shipped to England - its origin hidden, much like the man who made it. Fay is convinced that Shaw’s decorative ironwork at St Paul’s Cathedral, including the great chain that holds its dome, is described in detail, highlighting the genius of a craftsman whose contributions to British heritage have been tragically overlooked.
The theme of erasure recurs frequently throughout Fay’s investigation. One particularly poignant example is the lost tomb memorial of Huntingdon Shaw, which once stood proudly near St Mary’s Church in Hampton. Though the marble monument has long since vanished, Fay has located watercolours and drawings of it, offering haunting proof of a man honoured in death, then systematically forgotten.
The tale is fascinating; however, the book is not without its structural flaws. The author's prose is, at times, overwrought. His syntax leans towards the labyrinthine; his sentences are as elaborate as the ironwork he so reveres. Sadly, the layout and the sheer density of information may prove challenging for readers unaccustomed to such intense historical layering. A professional edit would greatly enhance the narrative and increase the accessibility of what is, undeniably, a work of considerable substance.
Nonetheless, what the book occasionally lacks in clarity it more than compensates for in originality, boldness, and intellectual vigour. In a publishing landscape dominated by cautious academic consensus, The Story of Queen Mary II and the Mysterious Jean Tijou is refreshingly audacious. The book does not answer every question it raises, but it succeeds magnificently in awakening curiosity, fostering debate, and rekindling a sense of wonder in the historical record.
This is not a book for the passive consumer of historical facts, the just before bed reader looking for a tale to lure them off to sleep. It is a journey with a call to arms for the intellectually adventurous, the sceptical time rich individual, and the ever curious. Fay’s “case file” challenges the reader not only to weigh the evidence presented but also to interrogate the very foundations upon which historical truth is constructed.
All in all, this book is a lavishly researched, defiantly unorthodox, and profoundly thought-provoking historical investigation, although in need of heavy editorial refinement. The Story of Queen Mary II and the Mysterious Jean Tijou is a treasure trove for those with a taste for historical intrigue, artistic legacy, and the enduring mysteries of monarchy. Once edited, this work could not only find a home in any university library, but also form the basis of a captivating historical drama that could challenge Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall - highly recommended for both the dedicated student of history and the heartfelt romantic.
