The Duchess
Page 20
The Morning Post complained that Georgiana and Harriet were guilty of more than paying over the odds. It accused them of threatening anti-Fox tradesmen with a Whig blacklist. Just as Lord John Cavendish had promised, the Morning Herald and Daily Advertiser riposted on Georgiana’s behalf. “The interference of the Duchess of Devonshire in behalf of Mr Fox is but a counterpart of those Roman Ladies who sued to Coriolanus for the welfare of the City of Rome,” it intoned.31 The more scurrilous the abuse and sexual innuendo levelled at them, the loftier the rebuttals of the Foxite papers. For the Whigs, the contest was about the larger issues: Liberty, Patriotism, and Duty. In contrast, the pro-government papers concentrated on Georgiana, showing her kissing or bribing electors with favours. The Whig printers tried to raise her above the fray. In the cartoon “The Apotheosis of the Dutchess” she is lifted up to the clouds by the goddesses “Truth” and “Virtue” while “Scandal” lies grovelling on the ground clutching a copy of the Morning Post.32 The anti-Fox propagandists linked Georgiana’s genius for the “common touch” with being common, hence her nickname of “Doll Common.” In its daily report on the election the Morning Post persistently associated Georgiana with free sex: she was either “granting favours,” caressing her “favourite member,” looking for the “right handle in politics,” or grasping the “fox’s tail.” It also implied that her unfeminine behaviour was causing her to grow a beard. On occasion, the Post was even a little ironic: “A certain Duke is quite charmed with the public and political conduct of his amiable Duchess, and calls for the Morning Post at breakfast to read the history of her Grace’s canvass.”33
The one effective argument in the Whigs’ counter-attack was the charge of misogyny and cowardice against the other side. On April 21 the Morning Herald scored a blow with this article:
The following curious paper was found in Catherine Street yesterday evening, supposed to have dropped from the pocket of a ministerial editor in the environs of that place:
My Dear Friend,
You go on swimmingly. The women are the best subjects in the world—work them for God’s Sake. HER in Piccadilly particularly. Suppose you were to say in your next . . . we hear that a certain Duchess (in great letters) has eloped with Sam House . . . having first had half a dozen amours; . . . She does a great deal of mischief to the cause—can’t you throw a hint against Lady D——n or Mrs F . . . it would have an effect . . . Say a word or two about the Miss Keppels, and just throw out that they were seen in a certain place, with a certain fishmonger, and so on, you know how to manage it.34
The Whigs pursued the theme with considerable success, although it meant that they had to temper their attacks on Mrs. Hobart and Lady Salisbury. But their defence of Georgiana was anaemic compared to the robust insults made by the government press. The pious images depicting her making sacrifices to the Temple of Liberty failed to neutralize those of her making love to the electors of Westminster. There seemed to be twice the number of broadsheets and handbills attacking Georgiana, who was forced to send deputies to buy up the most offensive prints as soon as they appeared in shop windows.
In the streets, earthy ballads were sold by balladmongers, who strategically placed themselves near Georgiana’s canvass. Gangs of rowdy sailors followed her coach, singing at the top of their voices:
I had rather kiss my Moll than she;
With all her paint and finery;
What’s a Duchess more than woman?
We’ve sounder flesh on Portsmouth Common:
So drink about to HOOD and WRAY—
Their health!—and may they gain the day!
Then fill our Nectar in a glass,
As for kissing—Kiss my a——.35
Remarkably, the government’s efforts failed to turn the voters against Georgiana and her energetic canvass brought in the votes Fox needed. By April 22 he was almost level with Wray. Yet he remained despondent about his chances of winning, and one of the newspapers poked fun at him for his lack of enthusiasm: “all advertisements relative to the Westminster Election should be in the Duchess of Devonshire’s name. She is the candidate to all intents and purposes. Mr Fox has not of himself polled a man this fortnight.”36 He recovered somewhat when his lead over Wray increased to three figures. By the end of April the party’s spirits were sufficiently high for them to host a dinner for over 800 electors at the Freemason’s Tavern. Fox sat at the top table facing his constituents so that everyone could see that the gruelling election had in no way dented his confidence. The party coffers had been raided to ensure the evening’s success; the Morning Herald described it as “an uninterrupted scene of convivial mirth.” Captain Morris led the revellers through a number of table-thumping songs, and finally the whole company scrambled to its feet to toast “The Duchess of Devonshire and Portland, and other fair supporters of the Whig cause.”37
The improved morale had a noticeable effect on the tone of Whig propaganda. For the first time since the beginning of the election a note of humour crept into the party’s advertisements. On May 1 the Morning Herald informed its female readers that the “Ladies of Fashion, in the interest of Mr Fox’s election, are distinguished by wearing a feather in exact imitation of a fox’s brush.” The only purveyor of this commodity was Mr. Carbery, plume-master to His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, whose shop could be found at 34 Conduit Street, near Bond Street, while stocks lasted.38 With only three more weeks to go, supporters in Pitt’s camp were understandably sulky. Some suggested that Georgiana should be arraigned before Parliament on charges of bribery. Pro-government newspapers increased their output, but the Whig counter-offensive was now working at maximum efficiency and anti-Georgiana posters scarcely survived an hour before being spotted and pasted over. The Post and the Herald were locked in battle, devoting almost their entire news section to rebuttals and counter-attacks.
Through it all, Georgiana and the other women continued to canvass. Only Lavinia Spencer, who could not hide her jealousy of Georgiana, still thought that the election might swing the other way. “I found Lady Spencer very unhappy indeed about the Duchess and the Westminster Election,” she told George. “She is so abused for meddling and so hooted at for her avowed interference that Lady Spencer is miserable about it.” Lavinia had to admit that Fox was leading in the polls, but “he knows, and so do all the Party that he cannot carry it and this provokes the Dss and Lady Spencer that the Portlands and Cavendishes oblige her to interfere when they know it is for nothing.”39
However, by the close of polling Hood was first and Fox second, the clear winner over Wray by more than 200 votes. The final figures were: Lord Hood—6,694; Mr. Fox—6,234; Sir Cecil Wray—5,998. Lady Spencer no longer cared about the outcome and simply wanted Georgiana out of the limelight. “Why should you not shirk the winding up and say that you are unable to hold out any longer?” she asked. “There is no law against impossibilities. I am really afraid of your hurting yourselves, and shall be heartily glad if you have both the courage to withstand all the flimsy arguments . . . sby coming down here immediately.”40 This was not what Georgiana wanted to hear just when all her efforts were proving to be justified. The Duke of Portland also insisted that she must stay: the party could show no hint of regret or embarrassment, whatever its private feelings about the Westminster campaign. It had to be a clear-cut moral victory—especially since they had done so badly in the rest of the country. Eighty-nine Whigs, nicknamed “Fox’s Martyrs,” had lost their seats.41 Even the leadership was not immune: in a humiliating defeat for the Cavendishes, Lord John had lost his seat at York. Fox, someone had heard, “can’t bear to think of politics.”42 The future looked bleak for the Whigs, which was all the more reason for squeezing every last bit of advantage out of their victory at Westminster.
As soon as the poll closed a triumphant procession of the entire party marched from St. Paul’s down the Strand, past Carlton House, the Prince of Wales’s residence, which they circled three times, and along Piccadilly to Devonshire House. Twent
y-four horsemen led the way, all dressed in blue and buff with foxtails hanging from their hats. Behind them followed a brass band, playing the Whig songs of the election, and then Fox in a decorated chair, garlanded with laurels and other senatorial insignia. Witnesses were shocked to see that his friends had dressed themselves in servants’ liveries and were driving his carriage. Hundreds of supporters marched behind, many of them carrying banners proclaiming FOX AND LIBERTY, and SACRED TO FEMALE PATRIOTISM, in reference to the women’s contribution. The aristocracy followed, dressed in full regalia, having ordered out their state carriages for the occasion. The Prince’s carriage brought up the rear of the parade accompanied by every member of his household, all in uniform. Everyone was shouting and waving their hats at the thousands of spectators who watched them from windows lining the route. The Prince of Wales and Georgiana, meanwhile, had slipped through the streets in order to greet the marchers when they reached Devonshire House. According to one witness, the two perched themselves on ladders set against the walls of the house, holding on with one hand and waving laurels with the other. It was a novel sight, not least because there was none of the unruly behaviour usually associated with large crowds. The marchers applauded the speeches and then departed relatively peacably, leaving property unscathed, with the exception of Lord Temple’s windows. The conservative London Chronicle could not help praising the Whigs for this feat of organization: “The Festival concluded as it was conducted throughout, with peace and harmony. There was neither riot nor disorder. At night almost the whole of the windows of the principal streets were illuminated, and there really seemed to be a general testimony of joy on the occasion.”43
“The Tipling Duchess Returning from Canvassing,” April 29, 1784. Georgiana is shown returning home in an inebriated state. Aitken. BM Cat. 6560.
“Every Man Has His Hobby Horse,” May 1, 1784. Charles Fox is attacked for relying on Georgiana to increase his votes. Rowlandson. BM Cat. 6566.
“Vox Populi, Vox Dei,” May 23, 1784. Georgiana defends herself against “woman-hating” newspapers with the “shield of virtue.” Humphry. BM Cat. 6594.
The Prince of Wales, who had been too drunk for most of the election to be of any help, opened up Carlton House for several nights of dinners and balls. All the celebrants appeared in buff and blue, which for once solved the problem of casual gatecrashers. One of the highlights was a sumptuous banquet for 600 guests. Mrs. Crewe lived up to her reputation for wit when she replied to the Prince’s toast of “True blue and Mrs Crew” with “Buff and blue and all of you.” If anyone remained ignorant of the purpose behind such a determined display of spirit, it was clear by the following week on the day of the state opening of Parliament. The King had to go through St. James’s Park, past Carlton House, to reach Parliament. To embarrass him, the Prince held a fête-champêtre in his gardens with music and dancing. The solemnity of the state occasion was disrupted by the sound of revelry coming from the other side of the brick wall.
Nevertheless, on the first day of Parliament the Whig ranks were so depleted they could only muster a miserable 114 votes against the government’s majority of almost 300. Pitt’s first speech to the House was relaxed and self-assured. He moved his listeners to frequent laughter with descriptions of the Westminster election and Georgiana’s canvass. She would not be arraigned for bribery, but he refused to allow the election results to stand. Fox was barred from taking his seat until after an official scrutiny. It was a delaying tactic by Pitt, a piece of petty vindictiveness against the conquered. After several months the House grew tired of the game and voted to allow Fox his seat. (Fox achieved some consolation in suing the bailiff of Westminster and winning £2,000.)
Georgiana scarcely registered the fact that she had escaped prosecution; the end of the election had not stopped her hounding in the press or removed her responsibilities. Although the core membership of the party was stable, there were at least a hundred more supporters who had to be prevented from defecting. Georgiana used lavish entertainments and her own popularity to entice waverers back to meetings at Devonshire House, but turtle dinners and gambling nights could not disguise the fact that the Whigs would never be in power while the King reigned. Lord North remained loyal but many of his followers felt there was no point in supporting the defunct coalition.
The Fox-North alliance had been a disaster for the Whigs, but it was also the defining moment for their ideology. Henceforth the Foxites would always hark back to 1784: their defeat became enshrined as a near-mythological battle against a despotic King and his lackey William Pitt. For Georgiana 1784 was also a defining year—the personal cost of the West-minster election had been far greater for her than anyone else, but it also established her position. Before the election her participation in party politics had been haphazard and dependent upon circumstance. Her duties as a wife, her friendships with Fox and the Prince of Wales, and her celebrity as the leader of the ton had placed opportunities in her way. But it was only after the government had recognized her potency as a campaigner that Georgiana achieved political status in her own right. Her unofficial ties to the Whigs were now official, as the Duke of Portland had made clear when he recalled her to London. Fanny Burney explained Georgiana’s position in just a few words: she was the “head of opposition public.”44
At least eleven women had canvassed daily, including Harriet, the Duchess of Portland, and the Waldegrave sisters. Lady Salisbury and Mrs. Hobart had run a less successful but still a high-profile campaign for Pitt. Their participation discounts the argument put forward by some historians that it was the fact that Georgiana had campaigned for a non-relative which enraged eighteenth-century society.45 There was no taboo on female participation in politics, only a great deal of hypocrisy.
So [Harriet teased Lord Granville Leveson Gower many years later, when she heard about his method of campaigning], your Ladies assist you in canvassing? I thought, my dear Granville, you were one of the people who thought my Sister and my canvassing even for our Brother, certainly for Mr Fox, so scandalous a thing that it could never be forgot or forgiven. How I have heard you . . . exclaim at the impropriety and indelicacy of both our conduct and the people who could suffer us to do so horrible a thing! Yet, you see, in Election fervour you can take up the same means you were so shocked at in others.46
The other women canvassers neither endured the same abuse as Georgiana, nor won the same plaudits; certainly no one libelled Lady Salisbury, who was briefly the Prince of Wales’s mistress, with the accusation of nymphomania. Georgiana was marked out for several reasons. First, she brought her own personality to the campaign in an era when the only women who had public personas were actresses and courtesans. Since her marriage she had deliberately courted attention through her patronage of the arts and her flair for fashion. She had appeared as herself and not as a sacrifice to female duty, and this had affronted traditionalists and made her vulnerable to attack. Furthermore, it was one thing for Fox to recast his public image to become the “Man of the People”—the sobriquet neatly encapsulated his populist rhetoric and reforming ideas—but the term could not cross over. A “Woman of the People” meant a prostitute, hence the plethora of prints which portrayed Georgiana as sexually available.
Georgiana had also challenged eighteenth-century attitudes to class distinction. Treating the voters as her equals was a serious transgression against propriety. The accusations of bribery were mere stock in trade for every election. The Duchess of Northumberland used to drop trinkets from her window to the waiting crowd below, and those who returned them received a double bounty, but unlike Georgiana she never shared any intimate moments with the voters, chatting over a pint of ale or a tipple of gin. Indeed, the Morning Post calculated Georgiana’s daily alcoholic intake and wondered how she could remain standing. No one as yet had any idea that France would soon be convulsed by revolution, but Georgiana’s encouragement of her inferiors still seemed very dangerous.
It was these innovations—her own cult of ce
lebrity and her democratic approach—which differentiated Georgiana then and later as a female pioneer in electoral politics. Her methods were too modern for eighteenth-century society. She was never allowed to canvass openly in London again, nor did other aristocratic women imitate her example. It would be another hundred years before women once more ventured boldly into street politics as Georgiana had not been afraid to do in 1784.
CHAPTER 10
OPPOSITION
1784–1786
Two presidencies have been of late given up, Lady Bridget Tollemache and the Duchess of Devonshire. The former over wit, and the latter of fashion and bon ton. Lady Bridget is succeeded by the Duchess of Gordon, and her Grace of Devon by the Countess of Salisbury, who is now supreme not only in article of dress, but in everything that depends on guste.
The Duchess of Devonshire appeared on Saturday at Drury-Lane Theatre in a mob cap; her Grace, ever since her initiation into the business of electioneering, has been much attached to mobs.
Morning Post, May 3, 1785
“Emblematic Designs”: The Duchess of Devonshire—The Whig Heroine—reviewing the grand procession [and] the triumphant cavalcade of the Man of the People. In the background, Envy is beheld in the character of a belamiste barking at the moon with all her brazen tongues; and in a retrospect prospect, Charity is beheld in a divine attitude, showering her heavenly influence on indigent mortals. With the motto, “My Humour is my leading star.”
Advertisement in the Morning Herald and Daily Advertiser, November 18, 1785