The Duchess

by Amanda Foreman

  Lady Spencer gave the women a chilly reception when they arrived on March 9, although her anger was tempered by the horrors they had suffered on the way to Nice. The situation in France had worsened since their arrival in Paris in November. The south was particularly unsafe and minor uprisings in Provence and the Languedoc region had led to anarchy. Lawlessness and general brigandage rendered the roads almost unusable. Fearing that their carriage made them vulnerable, Georgiana and Bess opted to leave it by the roadside and rode the rest of the way. It made them less of a target but it exposed them to roving bands of looters. Lady Sutherland, cowering in comparative safety at the British embassy, heard about some of Georgiana’s adventures:

  I was very happy to hear of the Dss of Devonshire getting away from the Toulon Banditti, as the idea of the horrors that might have happened to her had she fallen into their hands gave me the nightmare. As to Ly Eliz [she added contemptuously], I did not care so much about it; that sort of thing for once in a way not signifying to a hervey so much as to any other class in the animal world. If the Ds had been carried off, Ly Spencer would, like Ceres, have lighted her torch at Mount Etna and gone to seek her daughter all over the South of Europe—She is safe at Nice in the meantime where I hope the Dss now is.18

  The party was safe but miserable and bad-tempered. Lady Spencer set everyone on edge by her hostility to Bess and the almost hysterical way in which she supervised Georgiana’s every move. She insisted that Georgiana should sleep in her room like a child, show her her letters, and keep her door open at all times. Any protest was silenced by Lady Spencer’s reminders “of all her sins.”19

  Georgiana had hoped that once the baby was born and safely hidden the Duke’s anger would subside and he would let her return. Five months away was already enough for Bess, and she had started to hint of her longing for home. Lord Duncannon was also tired of living in hotels; furthermore his eighty-eight-year-old father was ill and wanted to make peace with his son. Even though Harriet was still weak and barely able to move on crutches Duncannon persuaded himself of her fitness to travel. The truce between husband and wife broke down over their disagreement; “nothing but absolute brute force shall make me return without [Georgiana],” Harriet declared, in spite of the pain she suffered at the separation from her sons.20

  The Duke finally put an end to their speculation in April. His anger had not diminished, and Georgiana was to stay abroad until he fetched her himself. He gave Bess leave to do as she liked. “I lose all courage and spirit,” Harriet sobbed when she heard the news. “England and everything is, it seems, remov’d twice as far.” Georgiana was dismayed by his harshness. At least, she implored, let her secretly visit the children. “She has written to beg she may come over with Lord D. and Bess for one month only,” Harriet told Lady Melbourne in April, “and then return to me. He never writes to her and seldom to Bess, and the last letter was in so harsh a style that I have little hopes of good; but at least the pretence of returning to me will always save a formal separation as long as I am away.”21

  Only Lady Spencer still hoped for an eventual reconcilement. Firm in this belief, she forbade Georgiana to risk upsetting the Duke by going home now. Georgiana’s mask of determined cheerfulness slipped when she broke the news of her prolonged exile to Little Georgiana: “Oh my dear child, I can only assure you that your Love and the hopes that you will not forget me is the comfort of my life now that I am absent from you—when I am to return is now very uncertain—I hope it will be soon as I do not feel that I have strength to bear so long an absence.” “When shall I see you all,” she wrote plaintively a month later. “It will not be long now I trust and I beg of you dst love to make your Papa come and fetch me soon.”22 Lord Duncannon went home in June and did not return for six months, but Bess stayed with Georgiana.

  The children were deeply upset by Georgiana’s banishment. “Mama gone, Mama gone,” Hart wailed over and over. The Duke never saw them; they remained in Devonshire House under Selina’s sole care. Lady Melbourne and George and Lavinia were good about visiting them and, surprisingly, Lady Jersey often brought her own children to play. Selina, for all her peculiarities, showed a hitherto unexpressed sensitivity towards Georgiana and did her utmost to help to maintain contact with the children. Her first letter on Georgiana’s departure was kind and betrayed no hint of judgement: “It is impossible to say how much I long to hear you are all safe and well in France. . . . Lady Georgiana’s letter is quite her own.” Subsequently she wrote, “How happy I am to be of any use to you and how much I wish to comfort you by telling you how all your sweet children go on.”23

  Lady Spencer asked Selina to make a special effort to become friendly with the Duke, although the result was not quite what she intended:

  She writes me word she found it very heavy work [Lady Spencer reported]. But as I thought it (which I do) of great consequence to those under her care, she persisted and thought she began to gain some ground. . . . Now I have begun to take fright, tho’ I think there can be no occasion for it, his attachments are of such a nature that they are not likely to alter and as for her I never can have a fear about her—but as he is at present perfectly desoeuvré he may mistake her attentions for coquettry or partiality, and it is not impossible that he may behave in such a manner as to distress her.24

  The exiles whiled away the time quite pleasantly, socializing with their French and English acquaintances. As Nice was part of the kingdom of Savoy the town was thronging with refugees from France. Georgiana had formed a plan to follow her children’s lessons so that she would be able to share in whatever they were learning, and perhaps even help them a little. She began a course of self-improvement, learning Italian, practising her drawing and music, and studying natural science, which became very important to her in later life. She now filled her letter journals to the children with colourful maps and sketches of the places she visited, enlivened with individual accounts of their social and political histories.

  Quite by chance Georgiana discovered that Mary Graham was also in Nice. The Grahams had been abroad for several years in the vain hope that a Mediterranean climate might improve Mary’s health. She was now in the final stage of consumption and beyond help. The two women had a short but emotional reunion. She died on June 26, 1792; according to Mrs. Nugent, who sat with her as she struggled for breath, one of her last conversations concerned her friendship with Georgiana: no other woman had claimed such an important part in her life. Mary used curious words to describe Georgiana: clever, safe, and benevolent. “Tell her,” she added, “to thank Lady Spencer for all her kindness to me. The poor Duchess had had affliction enough, without my adding to it, with poor Lady Duncannon. Tell her I hope she will continue to see as much of Charlotte [Mary’s younger sister] as she can, and to love her, and tell her exactly anything that occurs to her.”25 The party had moved on to Switzerland when the news of Mary’s death reached them. “I shall never forget her,” Georgiana avowed. “Her goodness, her sense, her sweetness have left a strong impression on my mind; she thought too much of me I am sure; but I have a pride in feeling that she loved me. I wish I deserved her friendship, but the contemplation of what she was adds to one’s discontent with oneself. . . . how proud I feel in the certainty of her love for me—how humbled in the consciousness of deserving it so little.”26

  Georgiana’s self-criticism was not an affectation. “The result of thought in me is always remorse and condemnation of myself,” she once said of herself.27 It was not only Mary’s death which made her reflect on the past with pain; several old friends had died within a few months of each other. Sheridan, stricken with remorse over his philandering, wrote to say that his wife, Elizabeth, had died of consumption. Georgiana and Harriet received several guilt-ridden letters, although he could not help adding to Harriet, “you are the only creature whom I find it a relief to think of.”28 Georgiana heard that Lady Derby and the Prince of Wales’s first love, Perdita, were also terminally ill. Even though many friends rallied to he
r side, writing letters of support and promising to visit, she felt wretched and unworthy. Up to twenty or thirty letters arrived at each post, of which only a fraction survive. The Duke of Dorset was particularly kind to her: “aimez moi un peu toujours”*29 was all he asked in return. Although he was ignorant of the true cause of Georgiana’s exile, the Prince of Wales also exhibited a rare display of loyalty. Exactly a year after her banishment he wrote:

  Out of sight out of mind, I know, is an old proverb, and but too often the case with many people in this world, but yt. is not in the least, my dearest Dss., applicable to me . . . my best beloved friend, that no circumstance in life can ever cause any change in ye the sentiments of yt heart with wh. you have long been acquainted. . . . my ever dearest friend must be fully persuaded yt no human event can ever cause any alteration in my sentiments respecting her.30

  People knew that a separation between the Duke and Georgiana must have taken place despite official denials, and everyone except the Cavendishes blamed the Duke for the split. A typical conversation was recorded by the young Whig Thomas Pelham after a dinner with friends; Dudley North had brought up the subject of the Devonshires: “He complained of [the Duke’s] selfishness and want of attention, and said . . . that if the Dss had been married to—or to any man who had shown her proper attention and done justice to her merits she would have been one of the most perfect women in England.”31 Although Lady Spencer would never have said such a thing to Georgiana, she agreed with North. Writing from Switzerland to Mrs. Howe, she described how helpful and generous George had been to them: “What would not my Daughters have been had their husbands been like him.”32

  Even under the most trying circumstances Lady Spencer had the bitter-sweet satisfaction of watching Georgiana and Harriet attract friends and laughter about them. By the time the party had reached Lausanne it had grown into a bulging caravan of English and foreign travellers. “Chemistry and mineralogy in the morning and draw all the evening; in short nothing can be more instructive or pleasant than their society,” was how one of the newcomers, Henry Pelham, described it.33 “Not to adore her [Georgiana] seems an odd thing to any person who lives with her,” wrote another.34 They spent the summer on Lake Geneva, at Edward Gibbon’s house, enjoying the view over the valley with its silver rivers and dark green forests. The author of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire had retired from politics to a contented bachelor existence in Lausanne, where he regularly received visits from scholars and admirers. This sedate lifestyle was completely overturned by Georgiana’s arrival; within days he had thrown his house open to all her guests. The two Carolines, Caroline Ponsonby and Caroline St. Jules, found him fascinating and played with him as if he were a doll:

  Mr. Gibbon is very clever but remarkably ugly [Georgiana told little Georgiana], and wears a green jockey cap to keep the light from his Eyes when he walks in his garden. Caroline was quite entertained with it and made him take it off and twist it about. . . . He comes to us almost every day and sometimes whilst we are dressing they undertake to amuse him. . . . One day Caroline Ponsonby out of kindness, wanted one of the footmen who had been jumping her to jump Mr. Gibbon, which was rather difficult as he is one of the biggest men you ever saw. . . . we take lessons in mineralogy and chemistry and Mr. Gibbon attends them with us and in the Evenings we have a great deal of music. . . . 35

  Ironically, Lady Spencer was very much taken with Caroline St. Jules, and preferred her to Harriet’s Caroline. Even at seven years old Caroline Ponsonby was an alarming and unpredictable girl, given to hysterical fits and rages. “She is very naughty and says anything that comes into her head, which is very distressing,” wrote Georgiana, who wanted to slap her when she was rude to Harriet. “She told poor Mr. Gibbon, who has the misfortune of being very ugly, that his big face frightened the little puppy with whom he was playing.”36 Since Lady Spencer was the only one who could control Caroline, she was obliged to spend more time with her than she liked. Despite her robust attitude to other people’s failings, she was not good at self-analysis. When Georgiana failed to notice her efforts to overcome her cold she became difficult and petulant until she had everyone’s attention. “The happiness of my children,” Lady Spencer wrote in justification of this incident, “I think I do not deceive myself by saying, is that on which mine entirely depends. I have had much disappointment and I have felt it bitterly. I sometimes shew it more than I could wish, but it is difficult to keep it always concealed.”37

  Lord and Lady Palmerston stopped by with some friends for a few weeks, although Lady Palmerston was not able to appreciate the scenery quite as much as Georgiana. “I never felt anything equal to the heat of the Inn or the stink or the dirt.”38 They were greatly relieved to be invited to the cooler enclave down by the lake, where the party had rented two houses near Gibbon’s. It was through the Palmerstons that Georgiana met the scientist Sir Charles Blagden, with whom she formed a lifelong friendship. With his encouragement she became an amateur chemist and mineralogist of note, later endowing Chatsworth with a collection of stones and minerals of museum quality. Lady Palmerston made some astute observations on the company: “The Duchess is grown ten years younger, but Lady Spencer seems unhappy and as if she wished to get away from herself.”39 Even though she knew the Duke only slightly, she thought Georgiana was mistaken in her hope that he would come to fetch her: “I do not believe the Duke of Devonshire will come. The idea of some political arrangements may be a reason for detaining him, but he wants little more excuse than the trouble of setting off.”40

  The escalation of war along France’s borders in October provided Lady Spencer with the opportunity to take a short break from Bess and her artificial laugh. Switzerland was no longer deemed safe, and the party decided that Harriet should go to Italy, where the warmth and relative quiet would continue to mend her health. Georgiana and Bess remained in Lausanne, still hoping the Duke would keep to his word and fetch them. The others began their tortuous journey, avoiding main roads in case they met soldiers, and fearful of going into the mountains, which would be too cold for Harriet. On several occasions Lady Spencer was very frightened: “Everything in these countries is in the greatest confusion—the whole road and every Inn full of Troops marching to the frontier and to Geneva which is supposed to be in great danger.”41 Georgiana had not seen her children for twelve months, and the separation was growing even harder for her to bear. On November 30, 1792, she wrote to Little G:

  Your letter dated the 1st of Nov was delightful to me tho’ it made me very melancholy my Dearest Child. This year has been the most painful of my life. . . . when I do return to you, never leave you I hope again—it will be too great a happyness for me Dear Dear Georgiana, & it will have been purchased by many days of regret—indeed ev’ry hour I pass away from you, I regret you; if I amuse myself or see anything I admire I long to share the happyness with you—if on the contrary I am out of spirits I wish for your presence which alone would do me good.42

  The party travelled slowly in the new year until it reached Pisa, where Duncannon rejoined the group. George had found him much improved when he saw him in London—less awkward and calmer than the old Duncannon. Lady Spencer knew her son-in-law well enough to be sceptical of any lasting change: she had witnessed his true character often enough. However, she noticed that he was behaving better towards Harriet and hoped it was not all show.43 Georgiana and Bess caught up with them there, having waited until the last possible moment for the Duke. They were forced to cross into Italy through the snow and ice. The French had taken control of the Savoy mountains, leaving open only the dangerous passage over St. Bernard. Fortunately, Pelham had stayed behind to escort them: on several occasions the servants had refused to continue until persuaded by a combination of threats and pleading.

  The news of Louis XVI’s execution had reached Georgiana before she set off for Italy. Most countries, including Britain, recalled their ambassadors at this point, much to the relief of Lady Sutherland; “you have no idea of
the horror of being at Paris since the 10th,” she had written to Georgiana. “The King and Queen confined in the Temple and not suffered to have servants. Mde de Lamballe est à hotel de la Force. They do nothing but arrest, interrogate, and guillotine, in short it is too bad.”*44

  Georgiana had known it was only a matter of time before they came for Marie-Antoinette, but she was still unprepared for the manner of her death, which took place on October 16, 1793. “I cannot express to you the horror I feel,” she told Coutts.45 The public trial, the corrupting of her son, the malicious abuse by her guards, and the stories about her mistreatment tormented Georgiana in her dreams and waking thoughts. “The impression of the Queen’s death is constantly before my eyes,” she wrote.46 The Little Po, still in exile in Switzerland, died shortly after they brought her the news.