Elizabeth, and did not write to her, at all events not till later. She
may have entertained a liking for him, but not receiving any token that
the liking was reciprocated, she allowed her aunt to engage and marry
her to young Hervey. That the poor girl had no fancy for the young man
is abundantly clear. The Attorney General, in the trial, said that Mrs.
Hanmer urged on the match "as advantageous to her niece;" but
advantageous it certainly was not, and gave no prospect of being.
In August, Augustus John Hervey got leave from his ship and came to
Lainston. The house, which had belonged to the Dawleys, had passed into
the possession of the Merrills. In the grounds stands the parish church,
but as the only house in the parish is the mansion, it came to be
regarded very much as the private chapel of the manor house. The living
went with Sparsholt. There was no parsonage attached, and though the
Dawleys had their children baptized in Lainston, they were registered in
the book of Sparsholt. The church is now an ivy-covered ruin, and the
mansion is much reduced in size from what it was in the time when it
belonged to the Merrills.
"Lainston is a small parish, the value of the living being £15 a year;
Mr. Merrill's the only house in it, and the parish church at the end of
his garden. On the 4th August, 1744, Mr. Amis, the then rector, was
appointed to be at the church, alone, late at night. At eleven o'clock
Mr. Hervey and Miss Chudleigh went out, as if to walk in the garden,
followed by Mrs. Hanmer, her servant--Anne Craddock, Mr. Merrill, and
Mr. Mountenay, which last carried a taper to read the service by. They
found Mr. Amis in the church, according to his appointment, and there
the service was celebrated, Mr. Mountenay holding the taper in his hat.
The ceremony being performed, Mrs. Hanmer's maid was despatched to see
that the coast was clear, and they returned into the house without being
observed by any of the servants." This is the account of the wedding
given at the trial by the Attorney General, from the evidence of Anne
Craddock, then the sole surviving witness.
There was no signing of registers, Mr. Amis was left to make the proper
entry in the Sparsholt book--and he forgot to do this. The happiness of
the newly-married couple lasted but a few days--two, or at the outside,
three; and then Lieutenant Hervey left to rejoin his vessel, and in
November sailed for the West Indies. The "Authentic Detail" declares
that a violent quarrel broke out immediately on marriage between the
young people, and that Elizabeth declared her aversion, and vowed never
to associate with him again.
So little was the marriage to her present advantage that Elizabeth was
unable to proclaim it, and thereby forfeit her situation as maid of
honour to the Princess, with its pay and perquisites. Consequently, by
her aunt's advice, she kept it concealed.
"Miss Chudleigh, now Mrs. Hervey,--a maid in appearance, a wife in
disguise,--seemed from those who judge from externals only, to be in an
enviable situation. Of the higher circles she was the attractive centre,
of gayer life the invigorating spirit. Her royal mistress not only
smiled on, but actually approved her. A few friendships she cemented,
and conquests she made in such abundance that, like Cæsar in a triumph,
she had a train of captives at her heels. Her husband, quieted for a
time, grew obstreperous as she became more the object of admiration. He
felt his right, and was determined to assert it. She endeavoured by
letter to negotiate him into peace, but her efforts succeeded not. He
demanded a private interview, and, enforcing his demands by threats of
exposure in case of refusal, she complied through compulsion."
The Duke of Hamilton returned from the grand tour, and he at once sought
Elizabeth to know why his letters had not been answered. Then the fraud
that had been practised on her was discovered, and the Duke laid his
coronet at her feet. She was unable to accept the offer, and unable also
to explain the reasons of her refusal. Rage at having been duped,
disappointment at having lost the strawberry leaves, embittered
Elizabeth, and stifled the germs of good principle in her.
This is the generally received story. It is that given by the author, or
authoress, of the "Authentic Detail," usually well informed. But, as we
have seen, it is hardly possible to suppose that Mrs. Hanmer can have
suppressed the Duke's letters. No doubt she was a fool, and a woman,
when a fool, is of abnormal folly, yet she never loses sight of her own
interest; and it was not Mrs. Hanmer's interest to spoil the chances of
her niece with the Duke.
After the Duke of Hamilton had been refused, and his visits to her
house in Conduit Street prohibited, the Duke of Ancaster, Lord Howe, and
other nobles made offers, and experienced a fate similar to that of his
Grace of Hamilton. This astonished the fashionable world, and Mrs.
Chudleigh, her mother, who was a stranger to the private marriage of her
daughter, reprehended her folly with warmth.[5] To be freed from her
embarrassments, Elizabeth resolved to travel. She embarked for the
Continent, and visited Dresden, where she became an attached friend of
the Electress of Saxony.
On her return to England she was subjected to annoyance from her
husband. She could not forgive him the deception practised on her,
though he was probably innocent of connivance in it.
"Captain Hervey, like a perturbed spirit, was eternally crossing the
path trodden by his wife. Was she in the rooms at Bath? he was sure to
be there. At a rout, ridotto, or ball, there was this fell destroyer of
peace, embittering every pleasure and blighting the fruit of happiness
by the pestilential malignity of his presence. As a proof of his
disposition to annoy, he menaced his wife with an intimation that he
would disclose the marriage to the Princess of Wales. In this Miss
Chudleigh anticipated him by being the first relater of the
circumstance. Her royal mistress heard and pitied her. She continued her
patronage to the hour of her death."
In 1749, Elizabeth attended a masquerade ball in the dress, or rather
undress, of the character of Iphigenia. In a letter of Mrs. Montague to
her sister, she says, "Miss Chudleigh's dress, or rather undress, was
remarkable, she was Iphigenia for the sacrifice, but so naked, the high
priest might easily inspect the entrails of the victim. The Maids of
Honour (not of maids the strictest) were so offended they would not
speak to her." Horace Walpole says, "Miss Chudleigh was Iphigenia, but
so naked that you would have taken her for Andromeda." It was of her
that the witty remark was then first made that she resembled Eve in that
she was "naked and not ashamed." On May 17th Walpole writes: "I told you
we were to have another masquerade; there was one by the King's command
for Miss Chudleigh, the Maid of Honour, with whom our gracious monarch
has a mind to believe himself in love, so much in love, that at one of
the booths he gave her a fairing for her watch, which cost him
five-and-thirty guineas, actually disbursed out of his privy purse, and
not charged on the civil list. I hope some future Holinshed or Speed
will acquaint posterity that five-and-thirty guineas were an immense sum
in those days."
In December 1750, George II. gave the situation of Housekeeper at
Windsor to Mrs. Chudleigh, Elizabeth's mother. Walpole says, "Two days
ago, the gallant Orondates (the King) strode up to Miss Chudleigh, and
told her he was glad to have the opportunity of obeying her commands,
that he appointed her mother Housekeeper at Windsor, and hoped she would
not think a kiss too great a reward--against all precedent he kissed her
in the circle. He has had a hankering these two years. Her life, which
is now of thirty years' standing, has been a little historic. Why should
not experience and a charming face on her side, and near seventy years
on his, produce a title?"
In 1760 she gave a soirée on the Prince's birthday, which Horace Walpole
describes: "Poor thing," he writes, "I fear she has thrown away above a
quarter's salary!"
The Duke of Kingston saw and was captivated by Elizabeth. Evelyn
Pierrepoint, Duke of Kingston, Marquis of Dorchester, Earl of Kingston,
and Viscount Newark, was born in 1711. Horace Walpole says of him that
he was "a very weak man, of the greatest beauty and finest person in
England."
He had been to Paris along with Lord Scarborough, taking with him an
entire horse as a present to the Duke of Bourbon, and was unable to do
this without a special Act of Parliament to authorise him. The Duke of
Bourbon, in return for the compliment, placed his palace at Paris, and
his château of Chantilly at the disposal of the visitor.
The Duke was handsome, young, wealthy and unmarried. A strong set was
made at him by the young ladies of the French court; but of all the
women he there met, none attracted his attentions and engaged his heart
but the Marquise de la Touche, a lady who had been married for ten years
and was the mother of three children. He finally persuaded her to elope
with him to England, where, however, he grew cold towards her, and when
he fell under the fascinations of Elizabeth Chudleigh he dismissed her.
The Marquise returned to France, and was reconciled to her husband;
there in 1786 she published her version of the story, and gave a history
of her rival, whom naturally she paints in the blackest colours.
Now follows an incident which is stated in the English accounts of the
life of Elizabeth Chudleigh; but of which there is no mention in the
trial, and which is of more than doubtful truth.
She had become desperate, resolved at all hazard to break the miserable
tie that bound her to Captain Hervey. She made a sudden descent on
Lainston--so runs the tale--visited the parsonage, and whilst Mr. Amis
was kept in conversation with one of her attendants, she tore out the
leaf of the register book that contained the entry of her marriage.
This story cannot possibly be true. As already said, Lainston has no
parsonage, and never had. Lainston goes with Sparsholt, half-a-mile off.
But Mr. Amis never held Sparsholt, but acted as curate there for a while
in 1756 and 1757. Lainston had no original register. What Elizabeth did
was probably to convince herself that through inadvertence, her marriage
had not been registered in the parish book of Sparsholt.
In 1751 died John, Earl of Bristol, and was succeeded by his grandson,
George William, who was unmarried. He was in delicate health; at one
time seriously ill, and it was thought he would die. In that case
Augustus John, Elizabeth's husband, would succeed to the Earldom of
Bristol. She saw now that it was to her interest to establish her
marriage. She accordingly took means to do so.
She went at once to Winchester and sent for the wife of Mr. Amis, who
had married her. She told Mrs. Amis that she wanted the register of her
marriage to be made out. Mr. Amis then lay on his death-bed, but,
nevertheless, she went to the rectory to obtain of him what she desired.
What ensued shall be told in the words of Mrs. Amis at the trial.
"I went up to Mr. Amis and told him her request. Then Mr. Merrill and
the lady consulted together whom to send for, and they desired me to
send for Mr. Spearing, the attorney. I did send for him, and during the
time the messenger was gone the lady concealed herself in a closet; she
said she did not care that Mr. Spearing should know that she was there.
When Mr. Spearing came, Mr. Merrill produced a sheet of stamped paper
that he brought to make the register upon. Mr. Spearing said it would
not do; it must be a book, and that the lady must be at the making of
it. Then I went to the closet and told the lady. Then the lady came to
Mr. Spearing, and Mr. Spearing told the lady a sheet of stamped paper
would not do, it must be a book. Then the lady desired Mr. Spearing to
go and buy one. Mr. Spearing went and bought one, and when brought, the
register was made. Then Mr. Amis delivered it to the lady; the lady
thanked him, and said it might be an hundred thousand pounds in her way.
Before Mr. Merrill and the lady left my house the lady sealed up the
register and gave it to me, and desired I would take care of it until
Mr. Amis's death, and then deliver it to Mr. Merrill."
The entries made thus were those:
"2 August, Mrs. Susanna Merrill, relict of John Merrill, Esq.
buried.
4 August, 1744, married the Honourable Augustus Hervey, Esq., in
the parish Church of Lainston, to Miss Elizabeth Chudleigh,
daughter of Col. Thomas Chudleigh, late of Chelsea College, by me,
Thos. Amis."
Unfortunately this register book was taken up to Westminster at the
trial of the Duchess and was never returned. Application was made to
Elbrow Woodcock, solicitor in the trial, for the return of the book, by
the then rector and patron of the living, but in vain; and in December,
1777, a new register book was purchased for the parish.
The Earl recovered, and did not die till some years later, in 1775, when
Augustus John did succeed to the earldom.
In 1751, the Prince of Wales died, and this necessitated a rearrangement
of the household of the Princess. Elizabeth was reappointed maid of
honour to her, still in her maiden name. Soon after--that is, in
1752--the Duke of Hamilton married the beautiful Miss Gunning.
In 1760 the king was dead. "Charles Townshend, receiving an account of
the impression the king's death had made," writes Walpole, "was told
Miss Chudleigh cried. 'What,' said he, 'oysters?'" "There is no keeping
off age," he writes in 1767, "as Miss Chudleigh does, by sticking roses
and sweet peas in one's hair."
Before this, in 1765, the Duke of Kingston's affection for her seeming
to wane, Elizabeth, who was getting fat as well as old, started for
Carlsbad to drink the waters. "She has no more wanted the Carlsbad
waters than you did," wrote Lord Chesterfield. "Is it to show the Duke
of Kingston he can not live without her? A dangerous experiment, which
may possibly convince him that he can. There is a trick, no doubt, in
it, but what, I neither know nor care." "Is the fair, or, at least, the
fat Miss Chudleigh with you still? It must be confessed she knows the
arts of courts to be so received at Dresden and so connived at in
Leicester Fields."
At last the bonds of a marriage in which he was never allowed even to
speak with his wife became intolerable to Captain Hervey; and some
negotiations were entered into between them, whereby it was agreed that
she should institute a suit in the Consistory Court of the Bishop of
London for the jactitation of the marriage, and that he should not
produce evidence to establish it. The case came on in the Michaelmas
term, 1768, and was in form, proceedings to restrain the Hon. Augustus
John Hervey from asserting that Elizabeth Chudleigh was his wife, "to
the great danger of his soul's health, no small prejudice to the said
Hon. Elizabeth Chudleigh, and pernicious example of others."
There was a counter-suit of Captain Hervey against her, in which he
asserted that in 1743 or 1744, being then a minor of the age of
seventeen or eighteen, he had contracted himself in marriage to
Elizabeth Chudleigh, and she to him; and that they had been married in
the house of Mr. Merrill, on August 9, 1744, at eleven o'clock at night,
by the Rev. Thomas Amis, since deceased, and in the presence of Mrs.
Hanmer and Mr. Mountenay, both also deceased.
As will be seen, the counter-libel was incorrectly drawn. The marriage
had not taken place in the house, but in the church; Mr. Hervey was aged
twenty, not seventeen or eighteen; and Anne Craddock, the sole surviving
witness of the ceremony, was not mentioned. The register of the marriage
was not produced,[6] and no serious attempt was made to establish it.
Accordingly, on February 10, 1769, sentence was given, declaring the
marriage form gone through in 1744 to have been null and void, and to
restrain Mr. Hervey from asserting his claim to be husband to Miss
Elizabeth Chudleigh, and condemning him in costs to the sum of one
hundred pounds.
As the Attorney-General said at her subsequent trial, "a grosser
artifice, I believe, than this suit was never fabricated."
On March 8, 1769, the Duke of Kingston married Elizabeth Chudleigh by
special licence from the Archbishop, the minister who performed it being
the Rev. Samuel Harper, of the British Museum, and the Church, St.
Margaret's, Westminster. The Prince and Princess of Wales wore favours
on the occasion.
No attempt was made during the lifetime of the Duke to dispute the
legality of the marriage. Neither he nor Elizabeth had the least doubt
that the former marriage had been legally dissolved. It was, no doubt,
the case that Captain Hervey made no real attempt to prove his
marriage, he was as impatient of the bond as was she. It can hardly be
doubted that the sentence of the Ecclesiastical Court was just. Captain
Hervey was a minor at the time, and the poor girl had been deluded into
marrying him by her wretched aunt. Advantage had been taken of her--a
mere girl--by the woman who was her natural guardian in the absence of
her mother. Such a marriage would at once be annulled in the Court of
the Church of Rome; it would be annulled in a modern English divorce
court.
The fortune of the Duke was not entailed; his Grace had, therefore, the
option to bequeath it as seemed best to his inclination. His nearest of
kin were his nephews, Evelyn and Charles Meadows, sons of Lady Francis
Pierrepont; Charles was in 1806 created Earl Manners; he had previously
changed his name to Pierrepont, and been created Baron Pierrepont and
Viscount Newark in 1796.
The Duke was and remained warmly attached to the Duchess. She made him
happy. She had plenty of conversation, had her mind stored with gossip,
and though old, oldened gracefully and pleasantly. Her bitter enemy--an
old servant and confidant, who furnished the materials for the
"Authentic Detail," says, "Contrarily gifted and disposed, they were
frequently on discordant terms, but she had a strong hold on his mind."
On September 23, 1773, the Duke died. The Duchess had anticipated his
death. He had already made his will, bequeathing to her the entire
income of his estates during her life, subject to the proviso that she
remained in a state of widowhood. This did not at all please the
Duchess, and directly she saw that her husband was dying she sent for a
solicitor, a Mr. Field, to draw up a new will, omitting the obnoxious
proviso; she was only by two years on the right side of fifty, and might
marry again. When Mr. Field was introduced to the Duke, he saw that the
dying man was not in a mental condition capable of executing a will, and
he refused to have anything to do with an attempt to extort his
signature from him. The Duchess was very angry; but the refusal of Mr.
Field was most fortunate for her, as, had the will proposed been
executed, it would most indubitably have been set aside.
As soon as the Duke was dead the dowager Duchess determined to enjoy
life. She had a pleasure yacht built, placed in command of it an officer
who had served in the navy, fitted it up with every luxury, sailed for
Italy, and visited Rome, where the Pope and the cardinals received her
with great courtesy. Indeed, she was given up one of the palaces of the
cardinals for her residence. Whilst she was amusing herself in Italy
something happened in England that was destined to materially spoil her
happiness. Anne Craddock was still alive, the sole witness of her
marriage that survived. She was in bad circumstances, and applied to Mr.
Field for pecuniary relief. He refused it, but the Duchess sent to offer
her twenty guineas per annum. This Anne Craddock refused, and gave
intimation to Mr. Evelyn Meadows that she had information of importance
which she could divulge.
When Mr. Meadows heard what Anne Craddock had to say, he set the
machinery of the law in motion to obtain the prosecution of the Duchess,
in the hopes of convicting her of bigamy, and then of upsetting the will
of the late Duke in her favour. A bill of indictment for bigamy was
preferred against her; the bill was found, Mr. Field had notice of the
procedure, and the Duchess was advised to return instantly to England
and appear to the indictment, to prevent an outlawry.
At this time--that is, in 1775--the Earl of Bristol died without issue,
and Augustus John, her first husband, succeeded to the title.
The anxieties of the Duchess were not confined to the probable issue of
the trial. Samuel Foote, the comedian, took a despicable advantage of
her situation to attempt to extort money from her. He wrote a farce,
entitled "A Trip to Calais," in which he introduced her Grace under the
sobriquet of Lady Kitty Crocodile, and stuffed the piece with
particulars relative to the private history of the Duchess, which he had
obtained from Miss Penrose, a young lady who had been about her person
for many years. When the piece was finished, he contrived to have it
communicated to her Grace that the Haymarket Theatre would open with the
entertainment in which she was held up to ridicule and scorn. She was
alarmed, and sent for Foote. He attended with the piece in his pocket.
She desired him to read a part of it. He obeyed; and had not read far
before she could no longer control herself, but, starting up in a rage,
exclaimed, "This is scandalous, Mr. Foote! Why, what a wretch you have
made me!" After a few turns round the room, she composed herself to
inquire on what terms he would suppress the play. Foote had the
effrontery to demand two thousand pounds. She offered him fourteen, then
sixteen hundred pounds; but he, grasping at too much, lost all. She
consulted the Duke of Newcastle, and the Lord Chamberlain was apprised
of the circumstances, and his interference solicited. He sent for the
manuscript copy of the "Trip to Calais," perused, and censured it. In
the event of its publication she threatened to prosecute Foote for
libel. Public opinion ranged itself on the side of the Duchess, and Dr.
Schomberg only expressed its opinion when he said that "Foote deserved
to be run through the body for such an attempt. It was more ignoble than
the conduct of a highwayman."
On April 17, 1776, the trial of the Duchess came on in Westminster Hall,
and lasted five days. The principal object argued was the admission, or
not, of a sentence of the Spiritual Court, in a suit for jactitation of
marriage, in an indictment for polygamy. As the judges decided against
the admission of such a sentence in bar to evidence, the fact of the two
marriages was most clearly proved, and a conviction of course followed.
The Duchess was tried by the Peers, a hundred and nineteen of whom sat
and passed judgment upon her, all declaring "Guilty, upon mine honour,"
except the Duke of Newcastle, who pronounced "Guilty, erroneously; but
not intentionally, upon mine honour."
No sooner did the Duchess see that her cause was lost than she
determined to escape out of England. The penalty for bigamy was death,
but she could escape this sentence by claiming the benefits of the
statute 3 and 4 William and Mary, which left her in a condition to be
burnt in the hand, or imprisoned; but she claimed the benefit of the
peerage, and the Lord Chief Baron, having conferred with the rest of the
judges, delivered their unanimous opinion that she ought "to be
immediately discharged." However, her prosecutors prepared a writ "ne
exeat regno," to obtain her arrest and the deprivation of her personal
property. To escape this she fled to Dover, where her yacht was in
waiting, and crossed to Calais, whilst amusing the public and her
prosecutors by issuing invitations to a dinner at Kingston House, and
causing her carriage to appear in the most fashionable quarters of the
town. Mr. Meadows had carried his first point; she could no longer call
herself Dowager Duchess of Kingston in England, but she was reinstated
in her position of wife to Augustus John Hervey, and was therefore now
Countess of Bristol. Mr. Meadows next proceeded to attack the will of
the late Duke, but in this attempt he utterly failed. The will was
confirmed, and Elizabeth, Countess of Bristol, was acknowledged as
lawfully possessed of life interest in the property of the Duke so long
as she remained unmarried. Mr. Meadows was completely ruined, and his
sole gain was to keep the unhappy woman an exile from England.