Other Women

by Fiona McDonald

  Georgiana finally gave birth to the son and heir of the Duke of Devonshire. Her health was poor after all their trials and it wasn’t until well into June that her life was considered to be out of danger and the longed for trip home was able to be planned. They travelled back to England in August.

  While everything seemed set to relax into its previous harmonious threesome, Lady Spencer was bent on having Bess put firmly in her place. Georgiana’s mother had befriended Selina Trimmer, the children’s governess, while they were all in France and she used the young woman to spy on Bess and to help turn the household staff against her. When Georgiana finally noticed what was happening she was furious and wrote a stern letter to her mother stating that Bess was part of her and her husband’s life and that was a fact. She said that by trying to upset the balance Lady Spencer was in fact only hurting her daughter. Georgiana was not well. She was also still in serious debt and worrying over it. Lady Spencer, worried for her daughter, desisted in tormenting Bess.

  Georgiana was soon to entertain another greater worry. She had begun a real affair with Charles Grey, who claimed he ardently loved her. It was when she was in Bath with Bess and the children, helping nurse her ill younger sister Harriet, that Georgiana discovered she was pregnant and that the child had to be Grey’s. Hoping to keep the indiscretion a secret by having the birth abroad, and without her husband ever knowing she’d been carrying it, Georgiana and Bess were planning to accompany a still ailing Harriet to balmy Cornwall. But the trio were found out before they left Bath. The duke surprised them with a visit after he had been tipped off that all was not right with his family.

  The duke was furious. He ranted and raved at his wife but was also very angry with Bess for having helped cover up the crime. He threatened to divorce Georgiana; then he made ultimatums. Eventually he settled on Georgiana having the baby abroad and that Bess, Harriet and Lady Spencer would go with her. The child was to be given up for adoption immediately, otherwise he would divorce Georgiana without further ado and take complete custody of their three children; if she didn’t give up Grey’s baby then she would never see her children again. The whole household was terribly upset by this but Georgiana couldn’t see any other way out of it. What is more, the company was denied any extra money from the duke to help ease their troubles.

  In February 1791 Georgiana gave birth to yet another girl and called her Eliza. She had no chance to nurse the baby; it was whisked off to a foster home before being put in the care of Charles Grey’s family in Northumberland. Little Eliza was not loved by her grandparents and was only allowed to see Georgiana on special visits to London. The child thought that Georgiana was her godmother, but it was not long before Georgiana’s secret slipped out in the form of malicious gossip. In a cruel twist, the duchess was prevented from nurturing Eliza because it would cause embarrassment to her husband – but everyone knew about it anyway.

  Although Georgiana was not permitted to let Eliza know she was the girl’s true mother, her legitimate children knew from before Eliza’s birth who she was. They were allowed to see their little half-sister but were sternly reminded never to let slip that they were related. Eliza was brought up to believe that Charles was her brother, not her father. The girl’s grandparents were not unkind to her, but Georgiana and others who saw her at home felt that Eliza was largely ignored by the family and unloved by them.

  The friendship between Georgiana and her husband’s mistress seemed only to grow. Whether there was still jealousy between them is unlikely at this stage. Georgiana had been cruelly treated by the man she was legally bound to live with, but whom had never loved her. Bess was probably chastened by her friend’s punishment and probably thanked her lucky stars that she had never been caught in one of her little romantic adventures away from the duke.

  The two women stuck together. It was because Bess had stood by her so faithfully that Georgiana went with her friend so she could get the Comte St Jules to sign the adoption papers for Caroline and make her his heir.

  Georgiana was not free to return home until her husband said she could. He did not write to his wife nor did he write to Bess very much either; both women were under a dark and heavy cloud. They were told to wait on the Continent until he came in person to accompany them home; it would be at his leisure that such a thing would occur. France was in turmoil and in 1793 Louis XVI was executed, followed not long afterwards by his wife. The incident meant that Britain, in disgust, sent the French Ambassador home and, in retaliation, France declared war on England. Georgiana and her retinue were in relative safety in Naples, although very keen to get home.

  Still the duke did not give his women leave to come home, even though he was probably feeling rather lonely. Finally, in May 1793, Georgiana received word that she could go home, although the duke did not travel to the Continent to accompany them. Her sister Harriet, however, was ill again when they got to Rome and was forced to stay, convalescing there with their mother. Georgiana and Bess soldiered on through all the upheaval in Europe until they got to Ostend. All the boats were full and it seemed as though the two women would be left behind. Luckily, an old acquaintance of the duchess offered them a place on his private boat and so they were able to leave the turmoil behind and head for home.

  The duke, surprisingly, met them at Dartford and gave them a very warm welcome. He even went as far as presenting Georgiana with a brand new coach to have her carried home in. They had been away from home for two years and it was quite odd that he had left them for so long overseas.

  There were good things and bad things awaiting Georgiana at Devonshire House. Her children had been affected by her two-year absence, the eldest becoming withdrawn and clingy for her mother and the little boy unable to recognise her. The duke had made himself more or less into an invalid who needed constant care; his wife, determined not to be banished again, tried hard to make a new life for herself with him. Bess was now the one out of favour. The duke felt she had betrayed him in helping his wife. He did not dismiss her from the family, and he still kept her in his bed, but it was more because Georgiana willed it that Bess was able to continue as she had for so many years.

  Upon her return, Georgiana found Charles Grey wanting to renew their relationship. She was tempted, it’s true, but after her heartbreaking ordeal over Eliza she strictly forbade herself to give into the temptation and told her suitor directly what she felt. Not long afterwards, in the following year, Charles Grey became engaged to Mary Ponsonby; Georgiana, to whom he had declared an undying passion, discovered the news from sources other than himself. Georgiana presented a brave and disinterested public face, assuring those close to her that she felt nothing but joy for the couple.

  In 1796 Georgiana, who had been suffering from bad headaches, finally found she was too ill to go about her everyday business. Her eye had swollen horribly and she couldn’t stand light. She was ill for weeks and underwent all sorts of drastic treatments. At her bedside were the ever faithful Bess and Harriet. When she was able to get about again Georgiana took life very quietly and slowly. Her face was ravaged, one eye left drooping, and she was bone thin. It would have been difficult to have seen in her the former beauty and elegance.

  Bess, on the other hand, was finding she was getting a lot more attention and interest. She no longer had her dear friend to overshadow her in looks nor at social events. And, what’s more, Bess’s estranged husband had suddenly died leaving her a small fortune and the freedom to be reunited with her two oldest children. Georgiana bade Bess to have the boys, now in their teens, to come and visit her at Devonshire House.

  Bess became preoccupied with the idea that her lover, the Duke of Richmond, also recently widowed, would pop the question of marriage to her at any time. Georgiana, however, was not keen to lose her best friend, confidante and her husband’s solace, knowing that life would become so difficult if Bess got a life of her own.

  The Duke of Richmond and Bess decided it would not be prudent to get engaged so soon after their spo
uses’ deaths and declared they would not do so until a twelve-month period of decent mourning had passed. Bess, although acknowledging the debt she owed to the Devonshires, was still anxious to be someone in her own right and to have the kind of life that Georgiana had had: money, social standing and a title.

  But poor Bess was not going to be made an offer in a hurry. She was constantly expecting a proposition of marriage by Richmond but it never came. By 1802 she had had enough of waiting and enough of being the sounding board for all Georgiana’s woes, she wanted a life of her own and she went to France in search of it, taking her daughter Caroline and one of her legitimate sons. As soon as she had left Georgiana began writing her usual letters telling Bess how much she missed her.

  In France, Bess was not just there for pleasure. She was also nursing her niece who was dying of tuberculosis. Then she had to return to England because France was threatening war. Unable to make it as an independent woman, she retreated to the only home she had really known, just in time to nurse Georgiana who was suffering from kidney stones, and the duke who was suffering from all sorts of imagined illnesses. More trips to Bath and seaside health resorts ensued, with Bess playing the ever concerned nursemaid whilst hiding her own extreme disappointment in not becoming the Duchess of Richmond.

  The cyclical nature of the relationship between Bess and the duchess and duke was to bring Georgiana’s debts to the fore again. Added to her poor health, and the duke’s, the duchess’s gambling debts had never truly been resolved. Again it was Bess who was asked to broach the subject with the duke. By this time, 1804, the duke was probably not so intimately active with his mistress. He did seem to be an extraordinary creature of habit and didn’t like his little threesome being disturbed or broken up in anyway. Perhaps the duke had mellowed with middle age and ill health, or perhaps he wanted to continue a smooth and peaceful life; whichever it was, when Bess told him that Georgiana had debts of up to £50,000 or more, he hardly turned a hair. Without rebuke Georgiana’s husband put in place a financial system that would pay off creditors, keep her in style and comfort, and would not cripple the estate. It is not said anywhere that he showed anything but kindness and sympathy for his wife.

  In March 1806 Georgiana succumbed to yet another illness. It was not a fit of nerves, not kidney stones and it was not imagined. To the doctors of the day it was a complete mystery, although now it is thought she had an abscess on her liver. On 30 March 1806 Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, died in the presence of her best friend Bess, her sister Harriet and her husband, all united in mourning her death.

  This was the end of Georgiana’s part in the strange story of the Devonshires. Without Georgiana around to take her part in matters Bess felt vulnerable to attack by other family members. The duke was still her faithful friend, possibly her lover, but he was always in need of being looked after. In Georgiana’s will she had made Bess the keeper of all her private papers. It was a move calculated to keep Bess within the family circle as it would take a long time for her to go through them and organise them. And, who knew what secrets Bess would then have in her knowledge?

  Just as everyone (except the duke) feared, Bess not only took on her role as archivist of the duchess’s extensive correspondence and literary works, she automatically stepped into her shoes as female head of the household. This suited the duke, who did not want the hassle of having to find a substitute, but Lady Spencer and Georgiana’s daughters were all put out by it.

  Finally, in 1809, a decent interval after Georgiana’s death, the Duke of Devonshire announced that he was engaged to be married to Lady Elizabeth Foster, Bess. The family were outraged, although they had known it might happen.

  Bess had her wish at last, to become the wife of someone important, to have a title that meant something and with it automatic respect (or at least the show of it).

  What she perhaps didn’t bargain for was that the duke, being true to his nature, had taken a fancy to a much younger woman, another Spencer, and had begun to involve her in family affairs. It looked as though he was trying to reconstruct the ménage a trois that had kept him comfortable for nearly thirty years. However, Bess doesn’t seem to have been too troubled by the duke’s interest in the young Mrs Spencer: she had what she wanted.

  Nevertheless, she did not have her duke as husband for very long. He died within three years of their marriage, in 1811. With the duke’s death the title moved to his heir, William George Cavendish Hartington, known as Hart to the family. Bess had to retire and, after a public fuss over what she was and wasn’t entitled to, moved to Rome, where she had other lovers. In 1824, exactly eighteen years after Georgiana’s death, Bess also died. Her body was returned to England and put in the grave alongside her two best friends, Georgiana and William Devonshire, along with Harriet, the duchess’s younger faithful sister.

  Part 4

  The Notion of Free Love

  Because women, and married women in particular, had such a hard time of it in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries – not being able to own property, being the property of their husbands, not having the right to custody of their children and so on – there were some men and women who felt this imbalance needed to be righted. Marriage was being seen by some women as a legal form of slavery – and the idea of any woman wanting to enslave herself in that way was preposterous. These were radical thinkers of the time – and most conventional, respectable people were horrified by some of their notions.

  If marriage held so many negatives aspects for women, why should they bother marrying? Why not live with the man they love and keep their freedom as well? The people who put forward such ideas were not talking about mistresses or a substitute marriage but a companionship in which both partners were equal. It also meant that when affection left a relationship the couple would be free to break apart and set up with another lover.

  Mary Wollstonecraft, the mother of Mary Shelley, was one such thinker. As a wife one gave up all reason to exist at all, she claimed. She thought women needed to have more equality in their relationships and she tried to practise what she believed in. It was not as easy as it looked in theory. She found herself in one relationship in which she wanted stability and monogamy but the man did not. She had an illegitimate child with him. She later married the philosopher William Godwin who shared her views on marriage, yet they got married in order to legitimise the birth of their daughter Mary.

  Mary Wollstonecraft

  Wollstonecraft’s and Godwin’s ideas influenced at least one, if not several, generations. It was certainly time for a change to the laws concerning marriage, women’s rights, property ownership and custody of children. It does not seem, however, that those enlightened individuals who proscribed to the practice of free love actually thought of the consequences, such as children and broken hearts, when they used it as a licence to sleep with whoever took their fancy. Free love needed to be guided by common sense and fair play.

  TWO FRIENDS, TWO

  MISTRESSES

  Harriet Taylor (and John Stuart Mill) and Lizzie Flower (and William Johnson Fox) were best friends. Harriet was a married woman with a family and Lizzie was the young ward of an older married man.

  Harriet Taylor was born in 1807 and by the age of 18 or 19 had married a man eleven years her senior, the respectable but dull John Taylor. Four years after her marriage, and as a mother of two boys, Harriet and her husband gave a dinner party. It was a large gathering and was made up of some of London’s most promising thinkers. One of the guests, the Unitarian Minister William Johnson Fox, brought a world-weary young man with him: John Stuart Mill. Mill had been brought up to be an intellectual and a scholar, having experienced a lonely and loveless childhood, being expected to achieve greatness through study and the use of intellect but to ignore the needs of his heart. He was said to have been reading Greek by the time he was 4.

  Harriet Taylor was a member of Fox’s congregation at the South Place Chapel, and it was to him she made a confession of loneliness despit
e being married. It may or may not have been Fox’s intention for the two young people to meet. It is hardly likely that he wanted to start an affair between them (and it isn’t certain that Harriet and Mill had any kind of sexual relationship with each other before John Taylor’s death in 1849).

  Harriet was no shrinking violet and had already been writing about women’s rights and position in society. Fox had encouraged her in her intellectual pursuits and so had Harriet Martineau, an established thinker and writer of her time. Martineau was an interesting woman who many considered extremely ugly. She was also very deaf, having to use an ear trumpet to aid her. When she was young she had lost her sense of taste and smell and had gradually lost most of her hearing too. She was also a member of the Unitarian church community, which was how she came to be a friend of Harriet Taylor’s.

  Mill, in his early twenties, was ready to fall in love. Harriet Taylor, considered as beautiful as Harriet Martineau was considered ugly, must have shone like a gem next to her friend. It would not have been difficult for the young Mill to fall for her. Harriet for her part was feeling starved of excitement. Her poor husband was really a very good man: he was wealthy (always a happy characteristic), he had the same religious (Unitarian) beliefs that his wife had, he also supported the political reforms that she approved of. Yet Harriet confided to Fox that her husband was still not enough for her intellectual appetite.

  In some of Harriet’s writings on women and marriage it is plain that she does not think that women get a fair deal. In one letter she writes that women are brought up with only one end in mind, to get married. She states that there are many women who find themselves without the benefit of having had a ceremony in church. Harriet’s conclusion is that they do not seem to suffer any more or less than those who are wed in the eyes of God. The letter continues to say that by setting marriage as a woman’s main goal in life, by actually going through the process and becoming a wife she in fact loses her very existence. Harriet was married to a man who was worthy, fair and probably truly loved his beautiful wife, but it doesn’t seem true that she reciprocated the feelings. For Harriet Taylor, being a wife and mother was not enough. This is not by any means a judgement on her. Even though we may feel sorry for John Taylor, whose main fault seems dullness, we can sympathise with a young woman who realises that she has achieved everything that was ever expected of her and she is not yet 25. If Harriet had known how it would be, she may well have followed the example of the other Harriet, the writer Martineau. Harriet Martineau achieved a miraculous amount of money for a woman writer in the nineteenth century, certainly enough to keep her living comfortably. However, the other Harriet had already made a choice and it seemed there was no way out of it.