A Scandalous Life. Mary S. Lovell

that would provide the freedom Jane wanted, but only at the cost of Jane’s reputation.

      The last of the twenty-one witnesses (many were called twice or three times during the Commons’ exhaustive hearing, the rest consisting of prying neighbours and hotel staff, post-boys and coachmen, maids, grooms and lawyers’ clerks) was Thomas Kane, the Ellenboroughs’ butler. He testified that as far as he and the other servants could see their master and mistress lived in happiness and affection, they generally called each other Edward and Janet, and had until two years ago frequently gone out together in the evening, less often after that. Prince Schwarzenberg had never been a guest at either house. All the servants (there were many) knew that the Ellenboroughs latterly slept in separate beds. Yes, it had been discussed in the servants’ hall but no one had taken it to mean that the couple were estranged.

      After Kane stood down, the Honourable Members debated the matter. The arguments raged back and forth. Jane had many champions who said that Ellenborough ought to have been more vigilant, that an experienced and worldy man ought not to have left his young wife so alone and unprotected that she had opportunity to behave so badly. Besides, said several, she had behaved no better nor worse than her peers, people who were also personal friends of her husband. And how had this husband reacted when warned by those closest to his wife that she was in moral danger? He had laughed. When one speaker asked what arrangements had been made to secure Lady Ellenborough’s future he was advised by Ellenborough’s barrister that Lord Ellenborough had made arrangements which ensured ‘she should not want for any of the comforts and conveniences which her rank in life required’. The barrister then produced what he described as a letter written by Lady Andover to Lord Ellenborough absolving him of responsibility for the break-up of the marriage, but the members of the House refused to allow it to be admissible.

      Those who supported Ellenborough argued that a husband could not possibly watch over his wife every minute of the day. There was no man in the House, said one Member, whose wife and daughters did not go out during the fashionable hours of the afternoon. Where did they go? Did the Honourable Members know every move of their womenfolk? Of course not. Were they then to suspect them of being false?

      The newspapers had their say too. The Times stated that there was little doubt about Jane’s adultery. However, it pointed out that there were other facts to be proven before a divorce might be granted. The editor hoped that there was no ‘collusion or connivance with the wife, [or] gross negligence of her morals or comforts … or gross profligacy on his part which might prevent the divorce going through’² – especially, said the editorial suspiciously, in view of the fact that Lady Ellenborough had made no attempt to contest the divorce, nor offer any defence for her behaviour.

      Denying the rumour that Prince Schwarzenberg had offered marriage to Lady Ellenborough if she obtained a divorce, the editor pointed out that in Austria, a Catholic country, such a thing was impossible. However,

      as there has been no opposition by Lady Ellenborough or her family to this bill, we must conclude that neither she nor they have any objection to let the divorce be completed

      Now this is a state of things which naturally begets the idea of collusion between the parties … the party seeking relief must come into court with clean hands. An adulteress cannot lawfully divorce her profligate husband. Nor can an adulterer his adulterous wife.

      … it seems to us, from reports that are current that an enquiry might be advantageously directed to what might be called ‘the Brighton affair’.³

      The open reference to the ‘Brighton affair’ – widespread reports of Ellenborough’s affair with the daughter of a confectioner from Brighton – was astonishing unless there was some evidence to back up the accusations. Yet it was mentioned in several papers, including The Times, and the word ‘collusion’ was raised a great deal by many in the debate.⁴ At one point it looked as though George Anson’s name might be brought into the proceedings, but to the relief of the family this dangerous ground was skated over.⁵

      The cheaper papers were less circumspect than The Times. The Age, having questioned a former servant, claimed that Jane had found a portrait of Ellenborough’s current mistress ‘within six months of their marriage’ which ‘insulted the delicate sensibility of an affectionate wife’. Openly accusing Ellenborough of neglecting Jane not because of his work, but because of other women, the editor asked his lordship to answer publicly certain statements being made by many people, namely:

      you have been an adulterer yourself, you have seduced and intrigued with females, more than one or two in humble life, one of whom has a child of which you are the father, and whom you refused to aid in her poverty and misery until fear of exposure tempted you to grant her a pittance …

      The Times says boldly that there was an affair with a confectioner’s daughter at Brighton. Now this is downright slander or downright truth. Lord Ellenborough is bound, in justice to the public, to deny in toto the verity of such a charge.⁶

      The same paper continued the attack a week later, referring also to an alleged relationship with another young woman, which led to a ‘recontre in Portland Place and even to a personal conflict’ between Ellenborough and a young doctor.⁷

      Ellenborough loftily ignored the press, and so apparently did his peers, for after a third reading in the week of Jane’s twenty-third birthday, on 7 April, the bill was passed. Royal Assent was duly granted and the Clerk of the House gravely announced, in time-honoured fashion, ‘Soit fait comme il est désiré.’⁸ The Times, seeing the end of its best lead story since the King’s attempt to brand Queen Caroline an adulteress in order to divorce her, contented itself with a huffy statement:

      As we hinted yesterday, such a result was all but inevitable; seeing in the first place that the chief opponent of the bill proceeded on the absurd ground that adultery was not proved, and secondly that nobody had the courage to take the true ground – the alleged conduct of Lord Ellenborough with respect to other women.⁹

      There was a beneficiary of the publicity surrounding the Ellenborough divorce case. Advertised in The Times, as often as not alongside the daily reports of the hearings, was ‘A Satirical Novel of Fashionable Life’, entitled The Exclusives. The publisher’s blurb proclaimed: ‘This extraordinary production continues to be the leading topic of conversation among the higher circles. The astonishment felt at the details connected with a certain system of London Society is indescribable.’¹⁰ Although appearing under the shelter of anonymity this book was written by a lady-in-waiting to Queen Adelaide, and the leading character was unmistakably Lady Ellenborough. Just to ensure that her readers were not left wondering, the author boldly plagiarised the name ‘Lady Glenmore’, the same name as that used for the character based on Jane in Almack’s. The Exclusives ran to three editions in a month while the hearings lasted, and the publishers could not keep it in print. Covering the period 1827–8 the story told how Lord Glenmore, a Minister of the Crown, was cuckolded by a man bearing a remarkable resemblance to Colonel George Anson. It was the second of eight novels that would be written, during Jane’s lifetime, using her character or story.

      Given the weight of evidence against Jane – publicly self-admitted, one might say, through Miss Steele – one might have expected some sympathy for Ellenborough. After all, he was the proven injured party and had recently been bereaved of his only son and heir. However, virtually no one believed that he had not behaved badly himself on the two counts of adulterous behaviour and neglect of Jane.

      There is no doubt from the surviving evidence that an agreement was reached between Admiral Digby and Lord Ellenborough, which appears to be that, in return for Jane’s matrimonial freedom and a financial settlement, no defence evidence would be offered. However, if blame must be apportioned for what happened to the Ellenborough marriage, and despite the decision of Parliament, it was clearly not one-sided. Jane was guilty of adultery, on two previous occasions as well as her affair with Schwarzenberg, but it was well known in their circles that Ellenborough was as guilty as Jane of marital infidelity. At that time, however, it was not possible for a woman to divorce a man on the grounds of his adultery.

      Ellenborough’s