Mr. Sheridan, Irish member, rose to question the witness.
“Have you had letters from Mrs. Clarke since that time?”
“Yes, this year I had an invitation on the sixth day of the month to go and see her. She desired me to dine, which I did.”
“Was there any conversation respecting the transaction of 1804?”
“Yes, I was a little surprised, because soon after dinner she sent for the twelfth cake, and some gentlemen came in, and as soon as they came the conversation of this affair of Captain Sandon was introduced, and I repeated every word, just as I have here.”
“Did Mrs. Clarke allude to any other transaction of a similar nature?”
“No, the rest of the evening was spent in convivial conversation and merriment, and I left the gentlemen at a little after twelve, drinking there.”
“Do you know who the gentlemen were?”
“I am not altogether certain. There was a long-nosed one, a friend of Mrs. Clarke’s, and a writer of some paper, they mentioned the paper but I forget what it was, she said she was obliged to have him with her to take care of her, and another gentleman who appeared like a lawyer, he laughed very much, this gentleman did, when I said he appeared like a lawyer.”
“Who was the gentleman who was a friend of Mrs. Clarke’s?”
“Must I tell, for she told me in secret?”
The witness was directed to answer the question, it escaping the attention of the House that Colonel Wardle, who had first examined the witness and appeared to be suffering from toothache while he did so, holding a handkerchief before his face, was now sitting down, screened from view, perhaps in pain.
Mr. Corri replied, “Well, she told me it was Mr. Mellish, the member for Middlesex, who is, I suppose, in this House.”
A gasp of amazement rose from all sides of the House, quickly followed by loud laughter and jeering from the Opposition. A stout gentleman, sitting on the Government benches, was seen to turn purple in the face and shake his head vigorously. The witness was directed to stand down. Mr. Mellish, the stout gentleman, then rose to his feet, and said that he was apprehensive that it might not be in order, but he wished some gentleman would interrogate him.
He was asked if he had been present at Mrs. Clarke’s in January. He replied, “I never was at Mrs. Clarke’s in my life, nor did I ever see her until I saw her in this House.”
At the request of Mr. Mellish, Mr. Corri was again called, and the honorable member went close up to the bar, to enable the witness to have a complete view of his person.
Mr. Mellish said to the witness, “Did you ever see me at Mrs. Clarke’s?” Mr. Corri replied, “No, it is not you, but I only said what she said to me; the person I saw was a darker complexion than you. If she told me a lie I can’t help it.”
There was loud laughter and applause as the honorable member for Middlesex, his reputation cleared, once more took his seat on the Government benches.
Colonel Wardle, having recovered from his toothache, now rose to call Mr. William Dowler to the bar. The witness entered, his expression grave but composed. He stated that he was just returned from Lisbon with dispatches, that he had known Mrs. Clarke for several years, and that he recollected having seen Colonel French and Captain Sandon at Gloucester Place while she was under the protection of the Duke of York.
Asked whether he recollected any conversation with Colonel French on the subject of the levy, he replied, “I once saw him at Mrs. Clarke’s house and was informed he was there on the subject of the letter of service. I questioned Mrs. Clarke regarding the nature of the business, and I recollect perfectly that I took the liberty of saying that I disapproved, or thought it exceedingly wrong. That was after Colonel French had left the house. He had paid Mrs. Clarke five hundred guineas of the total sum promised.”
“What answer did Mrs. Clarke make to your remonstrance?”
“She replied that the Duke of York was so distressed for money that she could not bear to ask him, and that it was the only way in which her establishment could be supported. She was offended with my freedom, and I ceased to see or hear from her for I cannot tell how long.”
“In what situation are you now?”
“I have lately been in charge of the Accounts Department of the Commissariat at Lisbon.”
“How did you obtain your situation?”
“I purchased it of Mrs. Clarke.”
A whistle sounded from some part of the house. Mr. Dowler colored.
“Did you pay any money to Mrs. Clarke for the benefit you received?”
“I gave her a thousand pounds.”
“Did you make any application for the situation to anyone but Mrs. Clarke?”
“To no one.”
“Did you understand Mrs. Clarke obtained the appointment from the Duke of York?”
“Certainly.”
Cross-examined by the Attorney-General, Mr. Dowler said that Mrs. Clarke had herself suggested that she might procure the office for him—the proposal did not come from him; and that his father would not at first give his assent, but later agreed as his son seemed confident that the matter would not become public. He denied repeatedly that his father could have made application through friends: it was his firm and unshakable conviction that Mrs. Clarke had obtained the appointment through the Duke of York himself.
Mr. Sheridan, Irish member, rose finally to question the witness.
“If, from respect to Mrs. Clarke, you thought it right to remonstrate against the transaction with Colonel French in 1804, why did you yourself, in 1805, bribe her with £1000 to get an office for you?”
“Because she was peculiarly distressed for money at that moment, and because the appointment would remain a secret in my breast, and nothing but such an enquiry as this would have drawn it from me. The Duke of York’s character and Mrs. Clarke’s would never have suffered from that which unfortunately I am now obliged to communicate before this House.”
“Then the Committee is to understand that your only reason for remonstrating with Mrs. Clarke was not against the impropriety of the act, but on account of the risk of discovery?”
“For both reasons. I stated that the transactions seemed to give her nothing but worry and anxiety, and I advised her to have a regular payment from the Duke of York, instead of meddling with such matters. She told me he really had not the money.”
“Do you recollect the first time you ever gave money to Mrs. Clarke?”
“I have lent her various sums of money at different times.”
“Had you any security for those sums of money?”
“None.”
“Were they loans to Mrs. Clarke?”
“Yes.”
“You took no memorandum for those sums?”
“No.”
“Have you seen Mrs. Clarke since your return from Portugal?”
“Yes.”
“When did you see her?”
“I saw her on Sunday.”
“Have you seen her since?”
“I saw her just now in the witnesses’ room.”
“Was anybody with her?”
“Nobody but a young lady or two.”
“What passed between you when you called on Sunday?”
“I lamented the situation in which I found her placed, and she said the Duke of York had driven her to it by not paying her annuity.”
“Did you see Mrs. Clarke before you went to Portugal, during the course of last year?”
“Yes.”
“Frequently?”
“I cannot positively say how frequently.”
“Do you recollect what was the last time you gave her money?”
“No, indeed.”
“Have you given her money since the time of your appointment?”
“Upon my word, I cannot recollect; if I have, it must be very trifling.”
At last William Dowler was allowed to leave, having stood at the bar for over an hour.
Mr. Huskisson, who had been Secretary to the Treas
ury in 1805, thereupon stated that he had no recollection of Mr. Dowler’s appointment, and did not think even the most diligent search into the records of the Treasury would afford any trace of the quarter from which the appointment was made. He sat down, amid murmurs and catcalls from the Opposition.
Upon Mr. Perceval, Leader of the House, contending that it was essential Mrs. Clarke should be examined that night, and that they should proceed to it without delay, she was accordingly called to the bar. After some interval the Chairman stated he had received a message from Mrs. Clarke—she was so much indisposed and exhausted with waiting, she said, that she wished to be excused from attending. There was a general cry of “Call her in, and order a chair for her.” A considerable delay followed before she appeared at the bar. When she did, she said, “I am so exhausted by waiting for upwards of over eight hours that I am not able to be examined tonight.” There were loud Government cries of “Go on… Go on…” The Chairman said, “There is a chair for you, Mrs. Clarke.” She answered, “That will not take away the fatigue I have suffered in body and in mind.”
She was then allowed to go, amid much uproar, Government members saying she should be examined forthwith, and members of the Opposition suggesting it would be more humane to defer the examination until a later night. Mr. Canning ended the discussion with a suggestion that Mr. Dowler might be interrogated as to whether he had had any communication with Mrs. Clarke since his examination. Mr. Dowler was accordingly called in again and examined.
“Since you quitted this bar, have you had any communication with Mrs. Clarke?”
“Only to offer her refreshment, as she was very unwell. I procured a glass of wine and water for her, which I put beside her.”
“Have you communicated to her what passed here during your examination?”
“No.”
“How long were you in the room with Mrs. Clarke?”
“Five or ten minutes. She was unwell, and there were several gentlemen gathered round her, and asking whether she would take refreshment.”
“Were you apprised that you ought not to have any communication with Mrs. Clarke?”
“I felt so.”
“And acted entirely from your own feelings on the subject?”
“Yes.”
The House then rose, and the Committee was ordered to sit again on Thursday.
No Reid’s Hotel for Mrs. Clarke that night, no hackney carriage to St. Martin’s Lane, but bed at Westbourne Place and black exhaustion. Ready and primed at three to face the ordeal, she had expected to be called at once, but the hours dragged on from afternoon to evening. Nor did it help to catch a glimpse of Few, the auctioneer, who used to live in Bloomsbury; and then of Bill. Bill had been absent an eternity, and when she begged a member in attendance to find out what was happening, he said, “They’re raking up the dirt. Whom he first met you with, and where, and when.”
French and the levy seemed to have been forgotten. The only thing that interested the questioners was probing into the past, disclosing secrets, and Bill, who had bought his appointment for her sake, hating his action, seeing it as shameful, was now, for her sake again, forced to disclose it.
When he came out of the Chamber his face was haggard, and he looked years older as he said to her, “I’d rather give every guinea I have in the world than be brought to this place again.”
She was told that night, before she left the House, that until proceedings were closed she must not see or talk to witnesses. Bill must not come to her house, she could not see him, no sort of communication would be allowed between them. Thank God for the day’s respite before the Thursday, thank God she could lie in bed with the curtains closed, with bandaged eyes, with a pillow under her cheek, a cup of broth on a tray brought in by Martha. No Dodd, no Colonel Wardle, no one to worry her. Even Charley had sense enough to stay away.
God! How she hated this world, suddenly turned hostile, smirching her name in the papers, pointing and jeering. Already the street boys were chalking lampoons on the doorway, and someone had thrown a brick and broken a window.
“It’s ignorance, ma’am,” said Martha. “They little know that you’re saving their bread and butter by what you’re doing, and trying to free the country from vicious tyrants.”
What in the name of heaven had Martha been reading? The People’s Globe? Or Truth for The Underdog? She closed her eyes and buried her face in the pillow.
No way of escape. On Thursday again, at three.
3
On Thursday, after preliminary business, Colonel Wardle moved “that Mrs. Mary Anne Clarke be brought before the bar.”
Orders were accordingly given to the Sergeant at Arms to call her in, but there was some delay before she appeared. When she did so she seemed distressed and there was a general cry of “A chair, a chair,” the members assuming that she was not well. She did not sit down, however, but looking towards the Government benches said, “I have been very much insulted coming to this House. It was impossible to get out of my carriage for the crowd pressing against the windows, and the messenger couldn’t protect me. I sent for the Sergeant at Arms to bring me into the lobby, hence the delay.”
She was given a few minutes to recover, and then Colonel Wardle began to interrogate her about the affair of Colonel French’s levy. She replied that both he and Captain Sandon had continually teased her with applications, and that she had always passed on Colonel French’s notes to the Duke without bothering to read them—His Royal Highness understood them, she believed. Seeing that she was still ruffled from her ordeal in Palace Yard, Colonel Wardle paused, intending to spare her, but Mr. Croker, for the Government, rose and asked her, “How long have you been acquainted with Mr. Dowler?”
“Nine or ten years. I don’t know exactly.”
“Do you owe him any money?”
“I never recollect my debts to gentlemen.”
“State the names of all the men who met Mr. Corri at your house in January.”
“If I did so I should never have a decent man call on me again.”
The burst of laughter from the House appeared to steady the witness, for she lifted her head and stared at Mr. Croker.
Various members now rose in turn to question her about the establishment at Gloucester Place, who paid for it, when she first made application to the Duke for anything connected with Army promotions, whether she had trusted to her memory on such occasions or recorded the applications on paper.
“If it was a single application I trusted to my memory or that of His Royal Highness, who has a very good memory, but if there were many I gave him a list, not in my own writing. I remember a very long one once.”
“Is that list in existence now?”
“No. I had it pinned to the head of the bed and His Royal Highness took it away in the morning. I saw it some time after, in his private pocketbook.”
Loud laughter rose from the Opposition benches.
“Do you recollect from whom you received that particular list?”
“I think either from Captain Sandon or Mr. Donovan, but both are quite prepared to deny it.”
“You received many letters from other applicants?”
“Hundreds and hundreds.”
“And you showed these letters, containing promises of money to you, to His Royal Highness?”
“He was aware of everything I did.”
The Government being momentarily nonplussed, Colonel Wardle called his next witness, Miss Taylor, who, shy, flushed, and exceedingly nervous, appeared at the bar in place of Mrs. Clarke.
Colonel Wardle asked her, “Were you in the habit of visiting Gloucester Place when Mrs. Clarke was under the protection of the Duke?”
“Very frequently.”
“Did you ever hear the Duke of York speak to Mrs. Clarke regarding Colonel French’s levy?”
“Once only.”
“Relate what passed at that time, please.”
“The Duke’s words were, as nearly as I can recollect, ‘I am contin
ually worried by Colonel French. He is always wanting something more in his own favor.’ And then, turning to Mrs. Clarke, he said, ‘How does he behave to you, darling?’ or some such kind words as he used to use, and she replied, ‘Middling, not very well.’ That was all she said.”
“Was that the whole of the conversation?”
“The Duke then said, ‘Master French must mind what he’s about, or I’ll cut him up, and his levy too.’ That was the expression he used.”
Colonel Wardle then stated he had no further questions to put to the witness. She turned as though to go, but the Attorney-General rose to his feet. A murmur of sympathy for the young witness came from the Opposition benches.
The voice that had been so soft and suave with Mrs. Clarke was harsh and abrupt to Miss Taylor.
“How long have you known Mrs. Clarke?”
“About ten years; it may be something more.”
“Where did you first become acquainted with her?”
“At a house in Bayswater.”
“With whom did you live in Bayswater?”
“With my parents.”
“What are your parents?”
“My father was a gentleman.”
“With whom do you live now?”
“With my sister.”
“Where do you live?”
“In Chelsea.”
“In lodgings or as housekeepers?”
“Housekeepers.”
“Any profession?”
“If a boarding school be a profession.”
“Who lived with Mrs. Clarke at Craven Place?”
“Her husband, when I first knew her.”
“Who lived with her afterwards?”
“His Royal Highness the Duke of York.”
“Have you known any other man live with her?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Are you related to her?”
“My brother is married to her sister.”