A Scandalous Life. Mary S. Lovell

other than to some staff quarters. Arthur was brought to her and, as babies will, having not seen his mother for some weeks threw a tantrum. A little later Jane dashed off a quick note to Ellenborough at Roehampton:

      Brighton, Friday night

      [postmarked 7 February 1829]

      To Lord Ellenborough

      Connaught Place, London

      Dearest Oussey,

      I am just arrived, and will only write you one line as I am tired to death with my journey, the roads were so very heavy. I found Arthur looking really pretty – you may believe it if I say so – and appears to me much improved in strength, but he greeted me with such a howl!! We shall improve upon acquaintance.

      If you go to Mrs Hope’s tonight, have the thought to make my ’scuses to save me the trouble of writing them.

      The post is ringing –

      Good night, dearest

      Janet¹

      Felix arrived at the hotel between six and seven o’clock in a hired yellow-bodied chariot driven by a post-boy. He alighted from the coach carrying his cloak and a carpet-bag which bore his coat of arms and initials, and was shown to a room in the west wing. This room was approached by the centre stairway from the main hall of the hotel. Having settled in and had his luggage unpacked by a member of the hotel staff, he took dinner in his private sitting-room and as the waiter was clearing away he asked casually who else was staying in the hotel at this unseasonal time of year. He was told that Lady Ellenborough was in residence. ‘Is that the dowager Lady Ellenborough?’ the prince enquired. ‘No,’ was the answer. ‘It is the young Lady Ellenborough.’² The prince asked the waiter to take his card to the lady with his compliments.

      Within a short time the waiter returned to the prince with the message that the lady would be delighted if, after the prince had dined, he would take tea with her in her room. The waiter personally served tea to Lady Ellenborough and her guest and noted that they remained together until half-past ten, when the prince left to return to his sitting-room. Requesting the waiter to fetch a bedroom candle and light it, Felix said goodnight and went up to his bedroom.

      At about midnight the hall porter, Robert Hepple, who was sitting in his pantry awaiting the late return of a family who had gone out for the evening, heard someone coming down the main stairs. He walked across the hall foyer, which was illuminated by gas lighting, and saw the prince descending the stairs. As soon as the prince saw the porter, he retreated back up the stairs.

      Hepple was ‘anxious to know what a person at that time of night was wishing to do … and kept out of sight’ for a while. To ensure that he was not seen, he put out the light in his pantry. His vigil was not long. Within ten or fifteen minutes the prince, still wearing the ‘frock coat, trowsers and boots’ in which he had dined, softly descended the stairs, crossed the hall and went along the passage leading to the east wing’s private stairway. Mr Hepple followed him and watched as the prince entered Lady Ellenborough’s bedroom without knocking. The door was closed and the key turned in the lock. After peering through the keyhole and listening for some fifteen minutes at the door, Mr Hepple formed his own opinion of what was happening within. He returned to his pantry. When he retired at 3 a.m., the prince had not yet reappeared. Next morning Hepple was summoned to the prince’s room and asked to press some clothes.

      At about 9.30 a.m. the prince descended to the hotel sitting-room, where he joined Lady Ellenborough for breakfast. Although it is not possible to say for certain what Jane and Felix spoke of over breakfast, it is possible to guess that one subject under discussion was an unpleasant incident which had occurred in Jane’s bedroom earlier that morning. Mr William Walton, the proprietor’s brother, who was responsible for waiting on the suite of rooms in the east wing, took it upon himself to tell her ladyship that his colleague, Mr Robert Hepple, had confided in him what he had seen and heard the previous night. Mr Hepple felt that the information ought to be communicated to Lord Ellenborough, a frequent guest in the hotel.

      Jane was taken by surprise but did not panic, relying upon her ability to charm the opposite sex. She admitted ‘that what she had done was wrong’ and said she did not wish anyone to learn about what had transpired. Begging Walton not to repeat what he had told her to anyone, especially not to her maid, she then gave him ‘a present’ of £20. Not surprisingly, Walton promised his silence in response to such generosity. It was not often that he received a tip that equalled half a year’s wages, even though he subsequently gave Hepple £5 of it.

      The prince watched Jane depart at eleven o’clock with her small retinue before he also left at about noon in the hired chariot to post back to London.

      Within weeks Jane discovered she was pregnant. There was no doubting the paternity of her second child, since, although she had a bed in the marital bedchamber, she and Edward had not enjoyed sexual relations for some months at her own request. A miniature, painted by James Holmes at this time, shows Jane reclining in gipsy-style déshabillé on a couch draped with an Eastern rug. She has lost the wide-eyed innocence of earlier portraits and despite the slimness of her hips appears voluptuous. The diarist Thomas Creevey met her in the same month at a party held by Lady Sefton. Present were ‘Mrs Fox Lane, Princess Esterhazy, Lady Cowper … Lady Ellenborough and the Pole, or Prussian or Austrian or whatever he is … anything as imprudent as she or as barefaced as the whole affair I never beheld … in short by far the most notorious and profligate women in London.’³

      Meanwhile, reports of Jane’s flagrant behaviour had finally begun to make an impression on Edward, especially when his brother Henry related gossip which reflected unfavourably upon her. Too late, Ellenborough accepted the sense of Margaret Steele’s warnings and the letter he had received from Lady Anson strongly urging he spend more time with his young wife. At first his concern showed itself in requests for Jane not to visit those very people to whom he had introduced her.⁴ At length he received a letter from one Robert Hepple, a former employee of the Norfolk Hotel in Brighton. Unfortunately £5 had not seemed sufficient reason for Mr Hepple to keep his lordship uninformed about Lady Ellenborough’s delinquency; he felt his knowledge might be worth more to her husband. The letter contained information which, though he was reluctant to believe it, Lord Ellenborough could not ignore.

      When Ellenborough confronted his wife with the contents of the letter Jane confessed, but only partially. She admitted her attachment to Felix, though not the full extent of it, and she denied the act of adultery at Brighton. This was foolishness taken to an absurd degree, for she could not have hoped to hide her condition indefinitely; and at the date of this discussion she must at least have suspected her pregnancy. Probably because of Ellenborough’s political commitments the matter was left hanging bitterly between them.

      Jane’s first thought was to rush to Felix and lay her problems upon his broad shoulders; but she got little comfort from him. Apparently realising for the first time the predicament in which he was now placed, the prince was appalled. He saw clearly that the matter could cause a major diplomatic incident and the end of his promising career. He immediately reported the matter to his ambassador and was given forty-eight hours to put his affairs in order, pack and leave for home, pending an imminent transfer to the Paris embassy. Ambassador Esterhazy knew that here was a man marked out by destiny for greater things than a life spent as secretary to the Ambassador at the Court of King James; the great Metternich himself took a keen interest in Schwarzenberg’s progress. Esterhazy decided to place the young man out of harm’s way and ride out any resulting unpleasantness.

      On 11 May 1829 Felix left for Europe, telling Jane he had no alternative but to accept his new posting and suggesting that, since she could not confess her pregnancy, she should attempt to obtain Ellenborough’s permission to go abroad to be confined in secret.⁵ He would, of course, do all in his power to assist her in this delicate matter. His suggestion was not made coldly; he was, according to his letters, still very much in love with Jane. Yet, whatever protestations of love Felix made to her, the fact remains that he rode off leaving his pregnant young mistress to face public condemnation and the wrath of her husband, for the sake of his career. Jane blamed the Esterhazys for transferring Felix and quarrelled with