affairs, and embarked for the Continent, proposing Rome for her
temporary residence. Ganganelli at that time filled the papal chair.
From the moderation of his principles, the tolerant spirit which he on
every occasion displayed, and the marked attention he bestowed on the
English, he acquired the title of the Protestant Pope; and to such a
character the duchess was a welcome visitor. Ganganelli treated her with
the utmost civility--gave her, as a sovereign prince, many
privileges--and she was lodged in the palace of one of the cardinals.
Her vanity being thus gratified, her grace, in return, treated the
Romans with a public spectacle. She had built an elegant pleasure-yacht;
a gentleman who had served in the navy was the commander. Under her
orders he sailed for Italy; and the vessel, at considerable trouble and
expense, was conveyed up the Tiber. The sight of an English yacht in
this river was one of so unusual a character that it attracted crowds of
admirers; but while all seemed happiness and pleasure where the bark
rested quietly on the waters of the river, proceedings were being
concocted in London which would effectually put a stop to any momentary
sensations of bliss which the duchess might entertain.
Mrs. Cradock, who, in the capacity of a domestic, had witnessed the
marriage which had been solemnised between her grace and the Earl of
Bristol, found herself so reduced in circumstances that she was
compelled to apply to Mr. Field for assistance. The request was
rejected; and, notwithstanding her assurance that she was perfectly well
aware of all the circumstances attending the duchess's marriage, and
that she should not hesitate to disclose all she knew in a quarter where
she would be liberally paid--namely, to the disappointed relations of
the Duke of Kingston--she was set at defiance. Thus refused, starvation
stared her in the face; and, stung by the ingratitude of the duchess'
solicitor, she immediately set about the work of ruin which she
contemplated. The Duke of Kingston had borne a marked dislike to one of
his nephews, Mr. Evelyn Meadows, one of the sons of his sister, Lady
Frances Pierpoint. This gentleman being excluded from the presumptive
heirship, joyfully received the intelligence that a method of revenging
himself against the duchess was presented to him. He saw Mrs. Cradock;
learned from her the particulars of the statement, which she would be
able to make upon oath; and, being perfectly
[Illustration: _The Duchess of Kingston forcing her refractory Banker to
cash up._]
satisfied of its truth, he preferred a bill of indictment against the
Duchess of Kingston for bigamy, which was duly returned a true bill.
Notice was immediately given to Mr. Field of the proceedings, and
advices were forthwith sent to the duchess to appear and plead to the
indictment, to prevent a judgment of outlawry.
The duchess's immediate return to England being thus required, she set
about making the necessary preparations for her journey; and as money
was one of the commodities requisite to enable her to commence her
homeward march, she proceeded to the house of Mr. Jenkins, the banker in
Rome, in whose hands she had placed security for the advance of all such
sums as she might require. The opposition of her enemies, however, had
already commenced; they had adopted a line of policy exactly suited to
the lady with whom they had to deal. Mr. Jenkins was out, and could not
be found. She apprised him, by letter, of her intended journey, and her
consequent want of money; but still he avoided seeing her. Suspecting
the trick, her grace was not to be trifled with, and finding all her
efforts fail, she took a pair of pistols in her pocket, and driving to
Mr. Jenkins's house, once again demanded to be admitted. The customary
answer, that Mr. Jenkins was out, was given; but the duchess declared
that she was determined to wait until she saw him, even if it should not
be until a day, month, or year, had elapsed; and she took her seat on
the steps of the door, which she kept open with the muzzle of one of her
pistols, apparently determined to remain there. She knew that business
would compel his return, if he were not already in-doors; and at length,
Mr. Jenkins, finding further opposition useless, appeared. The nature of
her business was soon explained. The conversation was not of the mildest
kind. Money was demanded, not asked. A little prevarication ensued; but
the production of a pistol served as the most powerful mode of
reasoning; and the necessary sum being instantly obtained, the duchess
quitted Rome. Her journey was retarded before she reached the Alps; a
violent fever seemed to seize on her vitals: but she recovered, to the
astonishment of her attendants. An abscess then formed in her side,
which rendering it impossible for her to endure the motion of the
carriage, a kind of litter was provided, in which she slowly travelled.
In this situation nature was relieved by the breaking of the abscess;
and, after a painfully tedious journey, the duchess reached Calais. At
that place she made a pause; and there it was that her apprehension got
the better of her reason. In idea she was fettered and incarcerated in
the worst cell of the worst prison in London. She was totally ignorant
of the bailable nature of her offence, and therefore expected the utmost
that can be imagined. Colonel West, a brother of the late Lord Delaware,
whom the duchess had known in England, became her principal associate;
but he was not lawyer enough to satisfy her doubts. By the means of
former connexions, and through a benevolence in his own nature, the Earl
of Mansfield had a private meeting with the duchess; and the venerable
peer conducted himself in a manner which did honour to his heart and
character.
Her spirits being soothed by the interview, the duchess embarked for
Dover, landed, drove post to Kingston-house, and found friends
displaying both zeal and alacrity in her cause. The first measure taken
was to have the duchess bailed. This was done before Lord Mansfield; the
Duke of Newcastle, Lord Mountstuart, Mr. Glover, and other characters of
rank attending. The prosecution and consequent trial of the duchess
becoming objects of magnitude, the public curiosity and expectation were
proportionably excited. The duchess had through life distinguished
herself as a most eccentric character. Her turn of mind was original,
and many of her actions were without a parallel. Even when she moved in
the sphere of amusement, it was in a style peculiarly her own. If others
invited admiration by a partial display of their charms at a masquerade,
she at once threw off the veil, and set censure at defiance. Thus, at
midnight assemblies, where Bacchus revelled, and the altars of Venus
were encircled by the votaries of love, the duchess, then Miss
Chudleigh, appeared almost in the unadorned simplicity of primitive
nature. The dilemma, therefore, into which she was thrown by the pending
prosecution, was, to such a character, of the most perplexing kind.
She had already in a manner invited the disgrace, and she now neglected
the means of preventing it. Mrs. Cradock, the only existing evidence
against her, again personally solicited a maintenance for the remaining
years of her life; and voluntarily offered, in case a stipend should be
settled on her, to retire to her native village, and never more intrude.
The offer was rejected by the duchess, who would only consent to allow
her twenty pounds a year, on condition of her sequestering herself in
some place near the Peak of Derbyshire. This the duchess considered as a
most liberal offer; and she expressed her astonishment that it should be
rejected.
Under the assurances of her lawyers, the duchess was as quiet as that
troublesome monitor, her own heart, would permit her to be; and
reconciled in some measure to the encounter with which she was about to
meet, her repose was most painfully disturbed by an adversary, who
appeared in a new and most unexpected quarter. This was the celebrated
Foote, the actor, who, having mixed in the first circles of fashion, was
perfectly acquainted with the leading transactions of the duchess's
life, and had resolved to turn his knowledge to his own advantage. As,
in the opinion of Mandeville, private vices are public benefits, so
Foote deemed the crimes and vices of individuals lawful game for his
wit. On this principle he proceeded with the Duchess of Kingston; and he
wrote a piece, founded on her life, called "The Trip to Calais." The
scenes were humorous; the character of the duchess admirably drawn; and
the effect of the performance of the farce on the stage would have been
that which was most congenial to the tastes of the scandal-mongers of
the day--namely, to make the duchess ashamed of herself. The real object
of Mr. Foote, however, was one of a nature more likely to prove
advantageous to himself--it was to obtain money to secure the
suppression of the piece; and with this view he contrived to have it
communicated to her grace that the Haymarket Theatre would open with an
entertainment in which she was taken off to the life. Alarmed at this,
she sent for Foote, who attended with the piece in his pocket; but
having been desired to read it, he had not gone far before the character
of Lady Kitty Crocodile being introduced, the duchess could no longer
control her anger, and rising in a violent rage, she exclaimed, "Why,
this is scandalous; what a wretch you have made me." Mr. Foote assured
her that the character was not intended to "caricature her;"--even in
his serious moments being unable to control his desire to pun--for he
left her to infer that it was a true picture; and the duchess, having
taken a few turns about the room, became more composed, and requested
that the piece might be left for her perusal, engaging that it should
be returned by the ensuing evening. The actor readily complied, and
retired; but the lady being left to consider her own portrait, was so
displeased with the likeness, that she determined, if possible, to
prevent its exposure on the stage. The artist had no objection to sell
his work, and she was inclined to become the purchaser; but on the
former being questioned as to the sum which he should expect for
suppressing the piece, he proportioned his expectations to what he
deemed the duchess's power of gratifying them, and demanded two thousand
guineas, besides a sum to be paid as compensation for the loss of the
scenes, which had been painted for the farce, and which were not
applicable to any other purpose. The magnitude of the demand, as well it
might, staggered the duchess; and having intimated her extreme
astonishment at so exorbitant a proposition, she expressed a wish that
the sum might be fixed at one within the bounds of moderation and
reason. The actor was positive; concluding, that as his was the only
article in the market, he might name his own price: but the result was,
that by demanding too much, he lost all. A cheque for fourteen hundred
pounds was offered; the amount was increased to sixteen hundred pounds,
and a draft on Messrs. Drummond's was actually signed; but the obstinacy
of the actor was so great, that he refused to abate one guinea from his
original demand. The circumstance might at any other time have passed
among the indifferent events of the day, and as wholly undeserving of
the public notice; but those long connected with the duchess, and in
habits of intimacy, felt the attack made on her as directed by a ruffian
hand, at a moment when she was least able to make resistance. His grace
the Duke of Newcastle was consulted. The chamberlain of the household
(the Earl of Hertford) was apprised of the circumstance; and his
prohibitory interference was earnestly solicited. He sent for the
manuscript copy of "The Trip to Calais." perused, and censured it.
But besides these and other powerful aids, the duchess called in
professional advice. The sages of the robe were consulted, and their
opinions were that the piece was a malicious libel; and that, should it
be represented, a short-hand writer ought to be employed to attend on
the night of representation, to minute each offensive passage, as the
groundwork of a prosecution. This advice was followed, and Foote was
intimidated. He denied having made a demand of two thousand guineas; but
the Rev. Mr. Foster contradicted him in an affidavit. Thus defeated in
point of fact, Foote found himself baffled also in point of design. The
chamberlain would not permit the piece to be represented.
Foote now had recourse to another expedient:--He caused it to be
intimated "that it was in his power to publish if not to perform; but
were his expenses reimbursed (and the sum which her grace had formerly
offered would do the business), he would desist." This being
communicated to the duchess, she in this, as in too many cases, asked
the opinion of her friends, with a secret determination to follow her
own. Foote, finding that she began to yield, pressed his desire
incessantly; and she had actually provided bills to the amount of one
thousand six hundred pounds, which she would have given him but for the
Rev. Mr. Jackson, who, being asked his opinion of the demand, returned
this answer: "Instead of complying with it, your grace should obtain
complete evidence of the menace and demand, and then consult your
counsel whether a prosecution will not lie for endeavouring to extort
money by threats. Your grace must remember the attack on the first Duke
of Marlborough by a stranger, who had formed a design either on his
purse or his interest, and endeavoured to menace him into a compliance."
This answer struck the Earl of Peterborough and Mr. Foster very
forcibly, as in perfect coincidence with their own opinions; and Mr.
Jackson was then solicited to wait on Mr. Foote; Mr. Foster, the
chaplain of the duchess, professing himself to be too far advanced in
years to enter into the field of literary combat. Mr. Jackson consented
to be the champion on the following condition--that the duchess would
give her honour never to retract her determination, nor to let Foote
extort from her a single guinea. Her grace subscribing to this
condition, Mr. Jackson waited on Mr. Foote at his house in
Suffolk-street, and intimated to him the resolution to which the duchess
had come. The actor, however, still wished to have matters compromised;
and to this end he addressed a letter to the duchess, which began with
stating "that a member of the privy council and a friend of her grace
(by whom he meant the Duke of Newcastle) had conversed with him on the
subject of the dispute between them; and that, for himself, he was ready
to have everything adjusted." This letter afforded the duchess a
triumph. Every line contained a concession; and, contrary to the advice
of her friends, she insisted upon the publication of the whole
correspondence.
This circumstance for a time served to turn the current of attention
into a new channel. But while the public notice was withdrawn from her
grace, she felt too heavily the necessity which existed to adopt some
course to enable her either to evade or meet the impending danger. Her
line of procedure was soon determined upon--she affected an earnest
desire to have the trial, if possible, accelerated, while in secret she
took every means in her power to evade the measures which her opponents
had taken against her. Her conduct in other respects appears to have
been strangely inconsistent. An opportunity presented itself which
remained only to be embraced to secure her object. It became the subject
of a discussion in the House of Lords whether the trial of her grace
should not be conducted in Westminster Hall; and the expense which would
necessarily be incurred by the country was by many urged as being a
burden which ought not to rest upon the public purse. Lord Mansfield,
privately desiring to save the duchess from the disgrace and ignominy of
a public trial, strove to avail himself of this objection in her favour;
and so great had become the differences of opinion entertained upon the
subject, that the withdrawal of the prosecution altogether would have
been a matter which would have been considered desirable rather than
improper. Here then was the critical moment at which the duchess might
have determined her future fate. A hint was privately conveyed to her
that the sum of ten thousand pounds would satisfy every expectation, and
put an end to the prosecution; and doubts being expressed of the
sincerity of the proposal, the offer was made in distinct terms. The
duchess was entreated by her friends to accept the proposition which was
made, and so at once to relieve herself and them from all fear of the
consequences which might result to her; but through a fatal mistaken
confidence either in the legal construction of her case, or in her own
machinations, she refused to accede to the offers which were held out.
Resting assured of her acquittal, she resisted every attempt at
dissuasion from her purpose of going to trial; and she assumed an air
of indifference about the business which but ill accorded with the
doubtful nature of her position. She talked of the absolute necessity of
setting out for Rome; affected to have some material business to settle
with the Pope; and, in consequence, took every means and urged every
argument in her power to procure the speedy termination of the
proceedings--as if the regular course of justice had not been swift
enough to overtake her. In the midst of her confidence, however, she did
not abandon her manoeuvring; but at the very moment when she was
petitioning for a speedy trial, she was engaged in a scheme to get rid
of the principal witness against her. Mrs. Cradock, to whom before she
had refused a trifling remuneration, might now have demanded thousands
as the price of her evidence. A negotiation was carried on through the
medium of a relation of hers, who was a letter-carrier, which had for
its object her removal from England; and an interview was arranged to
take place between her and the duchess, at which the latter was to
appear disguised, and was to reveal herself only after some
conversation, the object of which was that terms might be proposed; but
her grace was duped: for having changed her clothes to those of a man,
she waited at the appointed hour and place without seeing either Mrs.
Cradock or the person who had promised to effect the meeting; and she
afterwards learned that every particular of this business had been
communicated to the prosecutors, who instructed the letter-carrier to
pretend an acquiescence in the scheme.
Thus baffled in a project which had a plausible appearance of success,
the only method left was the best possible arrangement of matters
preparatory to the trial. On the 15th day of April, 1766, the business
came on in Westminster-hall, when the queen was present, accompanied by
the prince of Wales, princess royal, and others of the royal family.
Many foreign ambassadors also attended, as well as several of the
nobility. These having taken their seats, the duchess came forward,
attended by Mrs. Edgerton, Mrs. Barrington, and Miss Chudleigh, three of
the ladies of her bedchamber, and her chaplain, physician, and
apothecary; and as she approached the bar she made three reverences, and
then dropped on her knees, when the lord high steward said, "Madam, you
may rise." Having risen, she courtesied to the lord high steward and the
house of peers, and her compliments were returned.
Proclamation being made for silence, the lord high steward mentioned to
the prisoner the fatal consequences attending the crime of which she
stood indicted, signifying that, however alarming and awful her present
circumstances, she might derive great consolation from considering that
she was to be tried by the most liberal, candid, and august assembly in
the universe.
The duchess then read a paper, setting forth that she was guiltless of
the offence alleged against her, and that the agitation of her mind
arose, not from the consciousness of guilt, but from the painful
circumstance of being called before so awful a tribunal on a criminal
accusation. She begged, therefore, that if she was deficient in the
observance of any ceremonial points, her failure might not be understood
as proceeding from wilful disrespect, but should be attributed to the
unfortunate peculiarity of her situation. It was added, that she had
travelled from Rome in so dangerous a state of health that it was
necessary for her to be conveyed in a litter; and that she was perfectly
satisfied that she should have a fair trial, since the determination
respecting her cause, on which materially depended her honour and
fortune, would proceed from the most unprejudiced and august assembly in
the world.
The lord high steward then desired the lady to give attention while she
was arraigned on an indictment for bigamy; and proclamation for silence
having been again made, the duchess (who had been permitted to sit)
arose, and read a paper, representing to the Court that she was advised
by her counsel to plead the sentence of the Ecclesiastical Court in the
year 1769 as a bar to her being tried on the present indictment. The
lord high steward informed her that, she must plead to the indictment;
in consequence of which she was arraigned; and being asked by the clerk
of the crown whether she was guilty of the felony with which she stood
charged, she answered, with great firmness, "Not guilty, my lords." The
clerk of the crown then asking her how she would be tried, she said, "By
God and my peers;" on which the clerk said, "God send your ladyship a
good deliverance."
Four days were occupied in arguments of counsel respecting the admission
or rejection of a sentence of the Spiritual Court; but the peers having
decided that it could not be admitted, the trial proceeded. The first
witness examined was
Anne Cradock, whose testimony was as follows:--I have known her grace
the Duchess of Kingston ever since the year 1742, at which time she came
on a visit to the house of Mr. Merrill, at Lainston, in Hampshire,
during the Winchester races. At that time I lived in the service of Mrs.
Hanmer, Miss Chudleigh's aunt, who was then on a visit at Mr. Merrill's,
where Mr. Hervey and Miss Chudleigh first met, and soon conceived a
mutual attachment for each other. They were privately married one
evening at about eleven o'clock in Lainston church, in the presence of
Mr. Mountney, Mrs. Hanmer, the Rev. Mr. Ames, the rector, who performed
the ceremony, and myself. I was ordered out of the church to entice Mr.
Merrill's servants out of the way. I saw the bride and bridegroom put to
bed together, and Mrs. Hanmer obliged them to rise again; they went to
bed together the following night. In a few days Mr. Hervey was under the
necessity of going to Portsmouth in order to join Sir John Danvers's
fleet, in which he was then a lieutenant; and being ordered to call him
at five o'clock in the morning, I went into the bedchamber at the
appointed hour, and found him and his lady sleeping in bed together. I
was unwilling to disturb them, as I thought that the delay of an hour or
two would make no difference, but they afterwards parted. My husband, to
whom I was not then married, accompanied Mr. Hervey in the capacity of
servant. When Mr. Hervey returned from the Mediterranean, he and his
lady lived together, and I then thought that she was pregnant. Some
months after, Mr. Hervey went again to sea, and during his absence I was
informed that the lady was brought to bed; and I was afterwards
confirmed in the information by the lady herself, who said that she had
a little boy at nurse, whose features greatly resembled those of Mr.
Hervey.
In answer to questions put by the Duke of Grafton, the witness said that
she had never seen the child; that it was dark when the marriage took
place in the church, and that Mr. Mountney carried a wax light attached
to the crown of his hat. Upon being asked by the Earl of Hilsborough
whether she had not received a letter containing some offer to induce
her to appear now as a witness, she admitted that Mr. Fossard of
Piccadilly had written to her, offering her a sinecure place on
condition of her coming forward to give evidence against her grace, and
stating that she might, if she pleased, exhibit the letter to the Earl
of Bristol. The cross-examination of the witness on this point was
continued during the remainder of the sitting of their lordships; and on
the following day (the 20th of April) it was resumed, the Earls of
Derby, Hilsborough, and Buckinghamshire questioning her with
considerable acumen. She at length confessed that pecuniary offers had
been made to her to induce her to appear, and that she had acceded to
the terms proposed.
Mrs. Sophia Pettiplace was examined as to the facts deposed to by Mrs.
Cradock; but she was able to afford no positive information upon the
subject. She lived with her grace at the time of the supposed marriage,
but was not present at the ceremony, and only believed that the duchess
had mentioned the circumstance to her.