I think myself a very deep politician for I really have always been judg’d right. . . . I have told my dr Brother and every body always the same thing—that the French owe their success and even existence to the attacks made on them—We draw out the only Virtues they have, energy as soldiers, and enthusiasm from Vanity. Could a cordon have been drawn and no fighting [but] by sea, they would soon tire of their miseries and the frivolity of their character would tell against them. But as it is Pride of La République is food and drink to them and heals their sores. Meanwhile, they wear out the internal peace of every other country, and the best blood is spilt without effect. I hope therefore that we shall withdraw our troops (unless aided by the Dutch people) and depend on our Tarr [navy].56
In a revealing aside, she added, “tis my single opinion for all here are great warriors”; she had at last found her own voice. The fact that Georgiana’s view of the war was based on a fundamentally flawed Whig reading of the character of Napoleon—who, she thought, had no interest in further conquest—does not detract from the sophistication of her comments. The troubles in Ireland, and the war against France in general, had persuaded her that she could explore the possibilities of a political life outside the party.57
For the first time in her adult life Georgiana questioned the assumptions which caused men and women to be segregated into different spheres. She felt that she had the same qualities as a man; it was simply her sex, not her capability, which barred her from taking part in politics. “Would I were a man,” she told Sir Philip Francis. “To unite my talents, my hopes, my fortune, with Charles’s, to make common cause, and fall or rule, with him.”58 Georgiana’s great ambition was to work with Fox on an equal footing. Such an achievement would bring fulfilment that went far beyond the satisfaction she had enjoyed as the leader of the ton. Yet, under the present circumstances there was no prospect of Fox ever leaving retirement. The fortunes of the party depended upon Pitt. Only if he were to resign could the two halves of the party reunite. As it was, the Whigs were weak and Georgiana had no role to play.
CHAPTER 20
GEORGIANA REDUX
1800–1801
Busy preparations are on foot for a course of splendid galas, next month, in the higher circles of fashion: the Duchesses of Devon, Rutland, and Gordon are to take the lead.
Morning Herald, April 23, 1800
Both [the Prince of Wales and Mrs. Fitzherbert] dined at the Duchess of Devonshire’s on Thursday. Mrs. Fitzherbert had not been at Devonshire House for many years.
Morning Herald, September 1, 1801
Georgiana’s first few days of the new century were troubled. She was again hunted by creditors and all she had managed to raise was £50 from George. The Duke of Bedford rescued her by offering a loan of £6,000: “I think it is not more than you may, in the opinion of the most scrupulous, accept from a friend,” he wrote compassionately. Knowing her well, however, he insisted on a strict timetable for repayment and even drew up a “memorandum of the transaction between us that there may be no possible mistake.”1 The memorandum was, of course, useless as a legal document, and if he believed that its existence would guarantee the safety of his money, then he did not know Georgiana well at all. Lady Spencer bitterly acknowledged the failure of her hopes in this regard: “Your motives in everything are generous and benevolent, but you have never accustomed yourself to any degree of order or regularity, on the contrary you rather hold it in contempt, nor will you bear the least control when your too liberal heart has conceived any idea of expence. In all this the last 27 years has repeatedly give me reason to fear you are incorrigible.”2
Georgiana was not alone in her difficulties. George was worried about money, and several of her cousins were severely pressed. However, for Harriet and Lord Bessborough the situation was already hopeless. They had never managed to curtail their expenses (he was an avid collector of prints), and the combination of his and Harriet’s previous gambling debts had bankrupted them. They had turned to the Duke in November 1799, and at first it seemed as if their problems would be solved. The family, principally the Duke, Lord Frederick Cavendish, and Lord Fitzwilliam, were to contribute £10,000 each into a trust which would be administered on the Bessboroughs’ behalf. However, this plan foundered when Harriet’s husband objected at being given no say in the trust. “I am quite in despair about the Bessboroughs,” wrote Lady Spencer to George on February 11, 1800. “Heaton [the Duke’s financial agent] I believe, was harsh and insolent, but if his plan or any of that kind had been adopted I should have been delighted, both your sisters, I am assured, have done their utmost to bring this to bear but if Lord B. will give up no gratification—nothing can be done.”3
The Duke became so exasperated with his cousin that he threatened to give him nothing. This forced Bessborough to change his obdurate attitude and eventually he agreed to an arrangement with Thomas Coutts whereby the banker would lend him the money to keep Roehampton during his lifetime, after which the estate would belong to the bank. The ever-generous Duke of Bedford submitted to being appointed one of the trustees. The new arrangement freed Georgiana from the additional burden of Harriet’s debts; “my heart is full of gratitude for the ameliorated prospect before me. Years might not have done on the score of circumstances what the last two months have done,” she told Lady Spencer on January 22, adding an unnecessary falsehood: “By May I shall be clear of any debt.”4
In the short term, the Duke of Bedford’s £6,000 enabled Georgiana to forget about her debts. What she might have been able to achieve if she had not burdened herself in this way was a favourite theme with Lady Spencer.
She is so overwhelmed with difficulties of one sort or another [she had lamented to Selina in 1797]. I only wonder her constitution has not long ago sunk under the keen sensibilities she feels. If she would be open upon the single subject of money matters I would live upon bread and water to relieve her, if I saw a possibility of doing it, but extreme difficulties have long inured her to deceive herself and others that I am persuaded she knows not how she stands with regard to debts or engagements.5
“How lamentable,” she continued in another letter, “to think that a heart and head like hers should have been so little profitable and that the invaluable talents of money, time, example and abilities she had in her power should have been lavished away so very uselessly.”6
As if to bear out Lady Spencer’s observation Georgiana began writing seriously again after the Duke of Bedford’s timely intervention. In April she ruefully confessed to George “that I am guilty of having wrote the epilogue to ‘de Montfort’ to be spoken by Mrs Siddons tomorrow. I did not mean it should be spoken but Mrs Siddons has taken a liking for it.”7 She started work on a religious drama and a few months later collaborated with Harriet on a tragedy. “My sister work’d very hard at it at Hardwick, and now we are going on again, and it is almost done,” Harriet told Leveson Gower in 1802. “But hers is much the most considerable part. I suppose you will think it vanité d’auteur or sisterly partiality if I tell you I really do not think it very bad. . . . It is the story of Siegendorf in the Canterbury Tales.”8
However, Georgiana was mainly preoccupied with Little G’s preparation for her presentation at court on May 22. Georgiana wanted it to be perfect. Lady Spencer had provided her daughter with the best masters in London and her training had been impeccable. Georgiana was determined to do the same for Little G. The rituals of a court presentation were extremely demanding: grace and a dignified ease were paramount—the poor execution of a curtsy could ruin a girl’s first season. Unfortunately Little G had not inherited her mother’s poise or co-ordination. Georgiana was worried by her tendency to keep her head down, and she seemed unable to effect the same curtsy twice. A débutante was required to walk slowly up to the Queen, make a deep curtsy to her knees and, if she was the daughter of a peeress, wait while Her Majesty kissed her forehead, and then rise and make another curtsy to the Queen and a smaller one to each of the royal members prese
nt, and then walk backwards out of the room, keeping her eyes on the throne.
Women’s fashion and court dresses had parted company many years previously. While simple white robes with puckered sleeves were all the rage in London, at St. James’s Palace, hoops, three-yard trains, and bare shoulders were still de rigueur. The latest hair fashion, called à la Titus, called for cropped hair which made the regulation court feathers difficult to wear and awkward in appearance. The style was affected by few women over the age of forty—except Bess, who took advantage of the fact that she was thin and youthful-looking to dress younger than her years. Georgiana had the compensation of being able to dress her daughters. By every account Little G’s court dress was a dramatic success: white crêpe trimmed with blonde (a form of silk lace), cords, and tassels. She wore the Cavendish diamonds and, importantly in Georgiana’s opinion, no rouge.
Devonshire House was in a twitter of excitement on the morning of the twenty-second. The footmen were dressed in special liveries, and Harryo and Caroline, who tried not to be jealous, watched from the stairs as bouquets arrived hourly from well-wishers. All the family were there, except Lady Spencer. Bess’s presence, and the fear that the weight of memories would make her cry, caused her to stay away. Lady Clermont went in her place and was herself tormented by the scene. “I never thought I should have seen the poor Dutchess look so well,” she scribbled at three o’clock after the party had left for St. James’s. “The Duke figited in and out while the Dss was dressing, wanting to know when Georgiana was to come down that he might dress to follow them. I wish you had been there and yet I believe it was better you should not. You would have been effected as I was very much. It put me so in mind of old times.”9
The Poyntzes, Cavendishes, and Spencers, including the Duchess of Marlborough and the Marchioness of Blandford, accompanied the Devonshires to court in a grand statement of family pride and loyalty. The London Chronicle reported that it was the most crowded Drawing Room since the Regency crisis. Someone counted over 1,000 carriages passing through the gates. However, it must be said that the crush was partly due to the excitement of the previous week when a madman had tried to shoot the King at the theatre. One of the women who paid a visit to court, Lady Jerningham, described the scene to her daughter: “we went to the Drawing Room at three o’clock, and remained standing till six, in the most violent crowd I ever yet saw: the three Rooms filled with hoops, swords, and each step thro’ the Crowd bringing danger of suffocation. Everybody had made it a point to go there.”10
Her description of Little G was kind but, considering Georgiana’s former reputation as a beauty, hardly enthusiastic. “Lady Georgiana is a tall fair girl,” she wrote, “not ugly, but not handsome either.” This was better than the reports of Harryo, “who is said to be very stout,” although Lady Jerningham had heard that “little Caroline is very pretty.”11 Georgiana reported the day as a success “beyond my warmest hopes.” Little G remembered to keep her head up, and the Queen was extremely civil, which was remarkable considering that only three years earlier she had banned all opposition ladies from appearing at court.
A few days later Georgiana gave the first of a series of balls following little G’s presentation and was pleased to note how many compliments her daughter received for her unpretentious manner and elegant dancing. Georgiana unobtrusively assessed her dancing partners for signs of interest. Two stood out by the end of the first evening: the Duke of Bedford and Lord Morpeth. At thirty-five Bedford was certainly not too old for Little G, although he had several illegitimate children and currently enjoyed two mistresses—Lady Melbourne and a Mrs. Palmer. The Duke’s liaisons aside, his wealth, Whig credentials, and generosity recommended him to Georgiana. She may even have hoped that having Bedford for a son-in-law would ease the £6,000 debt she owed him. Morpeth Georgiana was not so sure about even though he too was a personal friend. His father, the fifth Earl of Carlisle, had offended the Devonshire House Circle by defecting to William Pitt, and Morpeth belonged to the younger set of Pittites which included Leveson Gower and George Canning. On the other hand, he was only twenty-seven, which was in his favour, but this was offset by his manner, which Georgiana sometimes found a little pompous. “I believe he has many great qualities and would make a woman happy,” she decided; “he is rather too cold for [Little G].”12 He had been linked with several women, including Lady Jersey and Lady Anne Hatton, Harriet’s best friend. The previous year Morpeth had almost proposed to Lady Georgiana Gordon, the Duchess of Gordon’s youngest daughter, and Georgiana liked to think that she might succeed where the Duchess of Gordon had failed.
Georgiana observed the two men closely at each of their encounters with Little G, but neither revealed his intentions. In the meantime she was energetically taking Little G around London. “I am very busy in my new life and it does pretty well with me,” she wrote contentedly to Lady Spencer. “She is so much admired—it is said they are glad that at last a civil Duchess’s daughter is come out.”13 The ton hailed each of her parties as triumphs and they received fulsome plaudits in the newspapers. Georgiana was determined not to allow politics to interfere with Little G’s coming out and no one was excluded from the guest list. “It was a tow-row indeed but succeeded amazingly well and is reckon’d the finest given for many years,” Georgiana recorded in June after a supper ball for 1,000 people. “The decoration part was all my own invention for no one person knew what I intended to do till the very day when all met.”14 She had garlanded all the rooms with a mixture of real and paper roses to create a fantasy spring bower.
The season was over by July, and Georgiana gave her final, and most lavish entertainment—a breakfast at Chiswick. Lady Jerningham attended and recorded her impressions, although after six weeks of continuous socializing it is clear from her tone that the indefatigable party-goer was tired and jaded.
I am returned living from the Breakfast [she wrote], I found it extremely pleasant and was very much amused. We got there a little after Three, and were told the Duchess was in the Pleasure Ground. We accordingly found her sitting with Mrs. Fitzherbert by an urn. Several Bands of Musick were very well placed in the garden, so that as soon as you were out of the hearing of one Band, you began to catch the notes of another; thus Harmony always met your ears. This sort of continued concert has always a pleasant effect upon my nerves. There is a Temple which was destin’d to be the Prince’s Entertainment and was very prettily decorated with flowers.
There were about 20 covers, and when we understood that the Duchess and these fine People were in their Temple, we Goths took possession of the House, where we found in every room a table spread, with cold meat, fruit, ice, and all sorts of Wine. It is a fine House, and there are the most delightful pictures in it. After the eating and quaffing was over, the young ladies danced on the Green. Lady Georgiana Cavendish (a tall, Gawkey, fair Girl, with her head poked out and her mouth open) dances however very well. . . .15
On July 30 the Morning Herald reported that Georgiana “and her two lovely daughters,” along with the rest of the family, had removed to the southern coastal resort of Bognor Regis for the summer. Georgiana was exhausted but extremely satisfied with her work. There were only a few irritants to mar her enjoyment. Mrs. Fitzherbert’s reappearance was one of them. The Prince had humbly asked her forgiveness, and on June 16 she gave a public breakfast to mark her return to society as his “wife.” The ton had no choice but to include her whenever the Prince was invited. Georgiana was forced to treat her with exaggerated honour for the sake of her friendship with Prinny, although neither woman was misled by the other’s friendliness. Lady Jerningham could not hear the conversation between Mrs. Fitzherbert and Georgiana at the breakfast; if she had she would no doubt have noticed the strain between them. Georgiana hoped that the rapprochement was only temporary. “I wanted to tell you how gracious Cadet [the Prince of Wales] was,” she told Lady Melbourne. “But I cannot quite believe his entire reconciliation with Mrs F—I think it certainly is in a way—b
ut not complete, at least she certainly takes great pains to persuade the contrary. He certainly never appeared more calm and contented.”16
Lady Jersey was the other irritant. She had convinced herself that Devonshire House had colluded in her disgrace by poisoning the Prince’s mind against her. There was no truth in the accusation, but Georgiana was fearful, knowing that she was capable of petty acts of revenge.
I hear [she] is furious with me [she told Lady Melbourne], and thinks we were all in league against her. It would be easy enough to undeceive her—but perhaps it is better to let time do that. . . .My mother and her friends are all in a fever now, least my thinking her unhappy should give her an opening to regain her sway over me—I believe she is too proud to attempt it, and indeed it is long since she had any power over me except of tormenting; however, on G’s account I meant to be very cautious for once in my life—for should Peste [Lady Jersey] reproach me and accuse me, I should be distrest not to shew her some kindness and she would be a bad person for my girls in every way. . . . but I will do nothing without telling you.17
It was a relief to Georgiana to be by the sea, out of reach of both women. Throughout August she strolled along the sand and, when the sun was hot enough, daintily stepped out of her changing cabin into the water. Her letters for these weeks have disappeared, probably because Harriet was nine months pregnant with Leveson Gower’s child and waiting to come to term. It is extraordinary that they managed to keep the pregnancy a secret. Harriet had told no one for several months and, when her condition became obvious, she had absented herself from London. This time there was no anonymous letter to Lord Bessborough, no exposure or disgrace. Harriet simply remained out of the way for a time. There were, however, unnamed complications during the birth—Harriet gave out the story that she had fallen down the stairs—and she was extremely ill for a couple of months. The baby was a girl, and Harriette Stewart, as she was named, the surname coming from Leveson Gower’s maternal side, was farmed out to foster parents. The certainty that she couldn’t keep Harriette did not make the separation any easier. Like Georgiana with Eliza, Harriet tried to keep in contact with her by acting as the girl’s godmother. Only one letter mentioning Harriette escaped the censors who later went through Harriet’s correspondence. When Harriette was two years old Harriet obtained a little locket. “Pray,” she begged Leveson Gower, “give me a scrap of your Hair to put into it for her.”18
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