The Empress in Exile: When Bath Welcomed Ethiopian Royalty
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By Endex, Ethiopian Tribune Chief Editor
On a quiet morning in the late 1930s, the genteel streets of Lower Weston in Bath bore witness to an extraordinary sight. Passers-by, pausing on their errands, found themselves gazing upon a figure whose very presence seemed to bridge continents, the Empress of Abyssinia, taking a morning stroll through the English rain.
A local newspaper recorded the moment with understated curiosity. Under the headline “Royal Strollers in Bath Streets,” it noted how “the royal mistress of Fairfield, the Empress of Abyssinia” was seen walking with members of her family on her second morning in her new English home. In a typical flourish of British humour, the same report mentioned another unexpected walker that day a swan, which had wandered up from the river and was calmly obstructing traffic on the Bath–Bristol road.
Behind this quaint vignette lay a story of exile and endurance. The Empress, Menen Asfaw, consort of Emperor Haile Selassie I, had fled Ethiopia after Mussolini’s forces invaded the country in 1936. The Emperor and his family found refuge in Britain, where the city of Bath serene, discreet, and dignified became their temporary sanctuary. Their new residence, Fairfield House, was an elegant Italianate villa set among gentle hills and Georgian terraces. For a family displaced by war, it was both a shelter and a stage of quiet resilience.
In those early mornings, as the Empress walked beneath grey skies and curious eyes, she carried with her the sorrow of a lost homeland but also the poise of a queen determined to preserve dignity amidst dislocation. Locals, intrigued yet respectful, saw not grandeur but grace. In the stillness of Bath’s streets, she became a symbol of courage in exile, her presence both foreign and profoundly human.
Years later, when Emperor Haile Selassie returned to Ethiopia following the country’s liberation in 1941, he did not forget the kindness Bath had shown his family. In 1958, he made an extraordinary gesture of gratitude, gifting Fairfield House to the city. His wish was that it serve as a home for the elderly, a place of care and comfort within the community that had offered him refuge in his darkest hours.
That legacy endures today. Though no longer a residential home, Fairfield House remains a living monument, one that continues to embody the Emperor’s spirit of generosity and service. The building, now managed by Fairfield House Bath Community Interest Company, is a vibrant hub of cultural and social life. Its rooms, once filled with the quiet routines of exile, now host a rich array of activities: day-care services for elderly residents, heritage exhibitions, community gatherings, and cultural celebrations that honour both Ethiopian and Rastafarian traditions.
The house is also home to the Bath Ethnic Minority Senior Citizens’ Association (BEMSCA), which provides day services for the city’s older residents, particularly from minority backgrounds. On Sundays, visitors may join guided tours through the villa and gardens, exploring rooms once walked by Haile Selassie himself and learning about his time in Bath. The tours often conclude with a warm communal lunch, where traditional Caribbean and Ethiopian-inspired dishes are shared beneath portraits of the Emperor and his Empress.
Fairfield House today stands as a place of pilgrimage for many, Ethiopians, Rastafarians, and admirers of African heritage who come to pay their respects to the Emperor’s memory. It is a living house, not a museum; a place where history breathes through laughter, storytelling, and the sound of prayer. Local volunteers and cultural groups continue to preserve the building, raising funds for essential repairs while keeping alive the Emperor’s wish that it serve the community that once sheltered him.
To walk past Fairfield House now is to sense both its quiet dignity and its purpose. Within its walls, the spirit of the Empress’s morning stroll still lingers a reminder that grace can endure even in exile, and that the bridges built by compassion may outlast the empires that fall. The small clipping from a Bath newspaper, with its charming mention of a wandering swan and a royal visitor, has become part of a much larger story, one of resilience, gratitude, and the enduring ties between Ethiopia and a gentle corner of England.
