The Duchess

  Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, by Maria Cosway,

  1782. Georgiana, aged twenty-five, is portrayed as the goddess

  Diana, flying through the clouds.

  THE DUCHESS

  CONTENTS

  Cover Page

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  Illustrations

  Introduction

  A Note on Eighteenth-Century Politics

  Chronology

  PART ONE: DÉBUTANTE

  1 Débutante: 1757–1774

  2 Fashion’s Favourite: 1774–1776

  3 The Vortex of Dissipation: 1776–1778

  4 A Popular Patriot: 1778–1781

  Photo Insert

  5 Introduction to Politics: 1780–1782

  PART TWO: POLITICS

  6 The Newcomer: 1782–1783

  7 An Unstable Coalition: 1783

  8 A Birth and a Death: 1783–1784

  9 The Westminster Election: 1784

  10 Opposition: 1784–1786

  11 Queen Bess: 1787

  12 Ménage à Trois: 1788

  13 The Regency Crisis: 1788–1789

  PART THREE: EXILE

  14 The Approaching Storm: 1789–1790

  15 Exposure: 1790–1791

  16 Exile: 1791–1793

  17 Return: 1794–1796

  18 Interlude: 1796

  19 Isolation: 1796–1799

  PART FOUR: GEORGIANA REDUX

  20 Georgiana Redux: 1800–1801

  21 Peace: 1801–1802

  22 Power Struggles: 1802–1803

  23 The Doyenne of the Whig Party: 1803–1804

  24 “The Ministry of All the Talents” 1804–1806

  Epilogue

  Notes

  Select Bibliography

  Reading Group Guide

  About the Author

  Copyright

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  The accumulation of several years’ research inevitably means that enormous debts of gratitude are owed to many institutions and individuals. I am very grateful to the following owners of manuscript collections for allowing me access to their materials: His Grace the Duke of Devonshire, Drummonds Bank, the Hon. Simon Howard, Hugh Seymour, Esq., and the Earl Spencer.

  I was on the road for much of my research and I am grateful to the following people for their generous hospitality: Mr. and Mrs. Piers Paul Read, Celia and Tom Read, Bernard and Marie Scrope, and Sir Simon and Lady Towneley and Cosima Towneley.

  I never met with anything but interest and helpfulness from librarians and archivists up and down the country. Hundreds of people gave of their expertise, in particular Ian McIver of the National Library of Scotland, who brought to my attention the letters of Mary Graham. I would also like to thank Peter Day, head librarian of Chatsworth, Dr. R. C. E. Hayes of the Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, and the staff at the British Library Manuscript Reading Room. The British Library, the Bodleian Conservation Department, New Scotland Yard, and the Oxford University Computer Centre did their utmost to help me decipher those Chatsworth letters which had been censored with black ink. The fact that we did not succeed does not lessen my profound gratitude to all four institutions for the time and effort they willingly spent on the problem.

  I have received an extraordinary amount of help over the past six years. While I worked on the U.S. edition a number of people were particularly kind; I wish to express my gratitude to Jonathan Barton for his unfailing good humour and encouragement, and to Marisol Arguetta, Anthea Craigmyle, Caroline Dalmeny, Alice Lucas-Tooth, Lizzie Pitman, Jessica Pulay, and Hugh Smith.

  I am also indebted to the following readers for their comments and criticism: Elaine Chalus, Jemima Fishwick, Jonathan Foreman, Stephen Howard, Anthony Lejeune, Andrew Roberts, Justin Shaw, Fredric Smoler, Philip Watson, and particularly my supervisor, Dr. Leslie Mitchell, who inspired me with his devotion to the Whig cause.

  I would not have embarked on Georgiana were it not for my agent, Alexandra Pringle, and I would not have finished it without my editor, Michael Fishwick. I can hardly put into words the gratitude and admiration I feel for both of them. They have been patient, supportive, inspirational, and generous. They contributed to the book in a number of profound ways and, along with the dedicated and painstaking copy-editing by Rebecca Lloyd and Sophie Nelson, helped to bring Georgiana to its completed form.

  The U.S. edition of Georgiana was made possible only by the enthusiasm and hard work of Susanna Porter and Kate Niedzwiecki. Their vision has helped to produce a book which stands on its own, without reference to its British cousin.

  I also wish to thank my parents, Eve and Michael Williams-Jones, for their unstinting and generous support. Four years is a long time to have remained interested and willing to listen while I went on and on about Georgiana. I owe them much more than I can repay and am more grateful than my demeanour sometimes showed. Finally I would like to thank my brother Jonny, my soulmate, best friend, and fellow conspirator, who has always been my champion and ready to offer help or advice, day or night. I hope I have rewarded his patience.

  I dedicate this book to my father, Carl Foreman, in the certain knowledge that, had he lived, by now we too would be friends.

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  FRONTISPIECE: Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, by Maria Cosway, 1782. (By Kind Permission of the Trustees of the Chatsworth Settlement)

  SECTION ONE

  John, 1st Earl Spencer, by Thomas Gainsborough, c. 1763. (By Kind Permission of Earl Spencer)

  Georgiana, Countess Spencer, by Pompeo Batoni, c. 1764. (By Kind Permission of Earl Spencer)

  Photograph of Althorp House. (By Kind Permission of Earl Spencer)

  Lady Spencer with Lady Georgiana Spencer by Reynolds, c. 1760. (By Kind Permission of Earl Spencer)

  Viscount Althorp with his sisters Lady Georgiana and Lady Henrietta-Frances (Harriet) Spencer by Angelica Kauffmann, 1774. (By Kind Permission of Earl Spencer)

  Chatsworth, west front. (By Kind Permission of the Trustees of the Chatsworth Settlement)

  Interior of Chatsworth, the Painted Hall. (By Kind Permission of the Trustees of the Chatsworth Settlement)

  Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, by Thomas Gainsborough, c. 1785–1788. (Devonshire Collection, Chatsworth. By Permission of the Duke of Devonshire and the Chatsworth Settlement Trustees)

  5th Duke of Devonshire by Pompeo Batoni. (By Kind Permission of the Trustees of the Chatsworth Settlement)

  Mary Graham by Gainsborough. (National Gallery of Scotland)

  Marie Antoinette by L. Cournerie. (Reproduced by Permission of the Trustees of the Wallace Collection)

  Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and Lady Elizabeth Foster by Jean-Urbain Guérin. (Reproduced by Permission of the Trustees of the Wallace Collection)

  Lady Elizabeth Foster by Reynolds, 1787. (By Kind Permission of the Trustees of the Chatsworth Settlement)

  Lady Elizabeth Foster by Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1803. (National Gallery of Ireland)

  A view of Green Park, English School, c. 1760. (By Kind Permission of Earl Spencer)

  Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and Lady Georgiana Cavendish by Reynolds, 1784. (By Kind Permission of the Trustees of the Chatsworth Settlement)

  SECTION TWO

  BM Cat. 5395. “A Hint to the Ladies to take Care of their Heads.” (British Museum)

  Spencer House, north-west view; watercolour drawing, c. 1780. (London Metropolitan Archives)

  Spencer House, north front, 1942. (London Metropolitan Archives)

  Wimbledon Park House, Surrey. (London Metropolitan Archives)

  Front of Devonshire House, c. 1890. (London Metropolitan Archives)

  Lady Georgiana Spencer aged three, after Reynolds. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph C
ourtauld Institute of Art)

  Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, by Richard Cosway. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, by an unknown artist. (The Viscount Hampden: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, by John Downman. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  George, Prince of Wales, by John Hoppner. (Reproduced by Permission of the Trustees of the Wallace Collection)

  Charles James Fox by John Powell after Reynolds. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  A Gaming Table at Devonshire House by T. Rowlandson. (Private Collection: Courtesy of Spink and Son)

  Lady Georgiana Cavendish and Lady Harriet Cavendish as children. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Harriet, Lady Granville, by Thomas Barber. (Hardwick Hall, The Devonshire Collection [The National Trust]: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  William, 6th Duke of Devonshire, by Thomas Lawrence. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Eliza Courtney. (The Viscount Hampden: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  William Pitt by John Jackson after Hoppner. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Charles, 3rd Duke of Richmond, by George Romney. (Private Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Thomas Grenville by Camille Manzini. (By Courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London)

  Charles, 2nd Earl Grey, by James Northcote. (Private Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Sir Philip Francis by James Lonsdale. (By Courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London)

  Lord Granville Leveson Gower after Sir Thomas Lawrence. (The Sutherland Trust: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  3rd Duke of Dorset by Reynolds. (Private Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Harriet, Lady Bessborough, by Reynolds. (By Kind Permission of Earl Spencer: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Attributed as Frederick, Lord Bessborough, after Reynolds. (Leeds Museums & Galleries [Temple Newsam House]: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  BM Cat. 6520. Rowlandson. “The Devonshire, or the most Approved Method of Securing Votes.” (British Museum)

  R. B. Sheridan by John Hoppner. (Private Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  James Hare after Reynolds. (By Kind Permission of the Trustees of the Chatsworth Settlement: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Whig Statesmen and their Friends, c. 1810, by William Lane. (By Courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London)

  Francis, 5th Duke of Bedford, by John Hoppner. (The Lord Egremont: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Elizabeth, Viscountess Melbourne, by Thomas Phillips. (The Lord Egremont: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  “Witches Round the Cauldron” by Daniel Gardner. (Private Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  George, 2nd Earl Spencer, by John Singleton Copley. (By Kind Permission of Earl Spencer)

  House of Commons in 1793 by K. A. Hickel. (By Courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London)

  Lord Morpeth by Henry Birch. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  George Canning after Lawrence. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  South view of Castle Howard by William Marlow. (Castle Howard Collection: Photograph Courtauld Institute of Art)

  Devonshire House, ballroom, c. 1920. (London Metropolitan Archives)

  Demolition of Devonshire House. (RCHME, © Crown Copyright)

  BM Cat. 6533. “A Certain Dutchess Kissing old Swelter-in-Grease for His Vote.” (British Museum)

  BM Cat. 10253. Gillray. “L’Assemblée Nationale:—or—Grand Co-operation Meeting at St. Ann’s Hill.” (British Museum)

  ILLUSTRATIONS IN TEXT

  BM Cat. 6494. Rowlandson. “The Two Patriotic Duchess’s on Their Canvass” (British Museum)

  BM Cat. 6524. “The Chairing of Fox” (British Museum)

  BM Cat. 6560. Aitken. “The Tipling Dutchess Returning From Canvassing” (British Museum)

  BM Cat. 6566. Rowlandson. “Every Man Has His Hobby Horse” (British Museum)

  BM Cat. 6594. Humphry. “Vox Populi, Vox Dei” (British Museum)

  BM Cat. 6668. Dent. “British Balloon, and D———Aerial Yacht” (British Museum)

  BM Cat. 7360. Dent. “The Miscarriage or His Grace Stopping the Supplies” (British Museum)

  INTRODUCTION

  Biographers are notorious for falling in love with their subjects. It is the literary equivalent of the Stockholm Syndrome, the phenomenon which leads hostages to feel sympathetic towards their captors. The biographer is, in a sense, a willing hostage, held captive for so long that he becomes hopelessly enthralled.

  There are obvious, intellectual motives which drive a writer to spend years, and sometimes decades, researching the life of a person long vanished, but they often mask a less clear although equally powerful compulsion. Most biographers identify with their subjects. It can be unconscious and no more substantial than a shadow flitting across the page. At other times identification plays so central a role that the work becomes part autobiography as, famously, in Richard Holmes’s Footsteps: Adventures of a Romantic Biographer (1995).

  In either case, once he commits himself to the task, the writer embarks on a journey that has no obvious route for a destination that is only partly known. He immerses himself in his subject’s life. The recorded impressions of contemporaries are read and re-read;

  letters, diaries, hastily scribbled notes, even discarded fragments are scrutinised for clues; and yet the truth remains maddeningly elusive. The subject’s own self-deception, mistaken recollections, and the hidden motives of witnesses conspire to make a complete picture impossible to assemble. Finally, it is intuition and a sympathy with the past which supply the last missing pieces. It is no wonder that biographers often confess to dreaming about their subjects. I remember the first time Georgiana appeared to me: I dreamt I switched on the radio and heard her reciting one of her poems. That was the closest she ever came to me; in later dreams she was always a vanishing figure, present but beyond my reach.

  Such profound bonds have obvious dangers, not least in the disruption they can inflict upon a biographer’s life. Sometimes the work suffers; its integrity becomes jeopardised when, without realizing it, a biographer mistakes his own feelings for the subject’s, ascribing characteristics that did not exist and motives that were never there. In his life of Charles James Fox, the Victorian historian George Trevelyan insisted that Fox held to a strict code of morality regarding the sexual conquest of aristocratic women; he seduced only courtesans. Trevelyan, perhaps, had such a code, but Fox did not. There is ample evidence to suggest that the Whig politician had several affairs with married women of quality, including Mrs. Crewe and possibly Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. Her first biographer, Iris Palmer, was similarly wishful in her description of Georgiana as a “simple woman” without ambition except in her desire to help others. Palmer also claimed, in the face of contrary evidence, that Georgiana was unfaithful to her husband with only one man, Charles Grey. Both biographers illustrate how easy it is to fall prey to the temptation to suppress or ignore unwelcome evidence.

  Fortunately, the emotional distance required to construct a narrative from an incoherent collection of facts and suppositions provides a powerful counterbalance. By deciding which pieces of the puzzle are the most significant—not always an easy task—and thereby asserting their own interpretation, the biographer achieves a measure of separation. The demands of writing, of style, pace, and clarity, also force a writer to be more objective. Numerous decisions have to be made about conflicting evidence, or where to place the correct emphasis between certain events. Having previously dominated the biogr
apher’s waking and sleeping life, the subject gradually diminishes until he or she is contained on the page.

  I discovered Georgiana in 1993, while researching a doctoral dissertation on English attitudes to race and colour in the late eighteenth century. I was reading a biography of Charles Grey, later Earl Grey, by E. A. Smith, and came across one of her letters. I was already familiar with Georgiana’s career as a political hostess and as the duchess who once campaigned for Charles James Fox, but I had never read any of her writing, and knew little of her character. I was struck by her voice; it was so strong, so clear, honest, and open that she made everything I subsequently read seem dull by comparison. I lost interest in my doctorate, and after six months I had read just one book on eighteenth-century racial attitudes and thirty-two novels. Whenever I did go to the library it was to look for biographies of Georgiana.

  Nothing I read about her portrayed the Georgiana I felt I had heard. Eventually I realized I would never be satisfied until I had followed the trail to its source. Oxford accepted my explanation and graciously allowed me to start again and begin a new Ph.D. on Georgiana’s life and times. A short while later I decided to write her biography in addition to the doctorate.