JULY 1811
London was the hub of a buoyant press industry; gossip columns fed the growing fascination with human-interest stories, particularly those of well-known figures with glamorous lifestyles. Catherine’s rags-to-riches fairy tale captured the public imagination, providing the nostalgia and glamour they craved. Catherine was their real-life Cinderella: sweet-natured and deserving, liberated from a dreary existence, transformed by fine clothes and carriages. There was even a magnificent castle at Wanstead awaiting her. To complete the fantasy, a prince had appeared on the scene to sweep her off her feet.
Shortly after the Regency fete, the Duke of Clarence stated his intentions by opening negotiations with Catherine’s aunt, Lady Sarah de Crespigny, who happened to be a friend of his. The family was delighted; it appeared that Catherine had made a brilliant match. Surely it was every young woman’s fantasy to marry a prince? Regrettably, the fairy tale had one vital flaw: this particular royal was the antithesis of love’s young dream. The Duke of Clarence was a portly, florid man, with a complexion and girth that bore witness to his weakness for good food and wine. Having spent much of his youth in the navy, he was at times bawdy and uncouth, with a weather-beaten face that made him look even older than his forty-six years. Added to this, he was openly living with his mistress of twenty years, Mrs Jordan, a famous actress on the London stage and the mother of his ten illegitimate children, aged between five and seventeen years old.
From Catherine’s perspective, it was certainly flattering to be courted by royalty, but this fat old man with considerable baggage was far from ideal. Renowned for their derisive humour, the Great British public followed the courtship with amused interest, rejoicing in the folly of the Duke of Clarence and other suitors as they published poems or fought duels to impress the heiress. Glossy pictures of Catherine appeared in magazines, captured by some of the most celebrated caricaturists of the time. George Cruikshank’s Worshippers at Wanstead appeared as a frontispiece for the Scourge in December 1811,1 showing Catherine seated on a throne with a motley group paying homage at her feet.
Aside from intense personal pressures, Catherine was saddled with mammoth commercial responsibilities. She embraced her role as ‘a lady of business’ immediately upon coming of age, taking charge of her affairs and instructing her solicitor to conduct a full audit of her assets. As part of this exercise, she insisted that up-to-date maps of all her estates should be prepared, covering the entire 23,000 acres, including the various tenancies and holdings. The sheer scale of the task involved must have been daunting, but Catherine was determined to rise to the challenge, demonstrating that she was a capable, organized woman.2
Keeping track of her finances was another onerous task. There were letters from Messrs Hazard & Co. regarding transfer of stock, plus a huge backlog of unpaid debts that had amassed over the seventeen-year period since her father’s death. Systematically working her way through piles of papers, she agreed to settle some bills, while querying others by writing in the margins, ‘I should wish to have all this account explained.’3 Catherine was a shrewd business woman, who drove a hard bargain. When her estate manager, Mr Bullock, presented her with a bill, she haggled a deal and knocked down his price from £1,290 to £1,000, a considerable saving.4
During this process, Catherine discovered that her mother had built up debts, running to thousands of pounds, which was surprising because ample financial provisions had been made for her. It appeared that Lady Catherine had given away substantial sums to people in need and various family members, plus there had been considerable outlay in relation to Dora and Emma’s coming out. Catherine settled these debts without further ado, particularly as her kind-hearted mother had been driven by the need to provide for others. But an even more shocking revelation surfaced: it transpired that Lady Catherine harboured a dark secret of a scandalous nature, and she was being blackmailed by a man threatening to ‘do his worst’ and make the story public.5 To save her mother’s reputation, Catherine dealt with the blackmailer herself; after receiving various assurances, she paid the man a substantial bribe of £1,000, which put an end to the matter.6 All related paperwork was burned, so the precise nature of Lady Catherine’s indiscretion is unknown, although it seems most likely that she had a lover who decided to cash in. In terms of romance, Lady Catherine was restricted. Remarrying was probably not an option because she would have lost her entitlements. Her husband’s will specified that she could receive pin money and other benefits ‘so long as she shall continue to be my widow’.7
Blackmail is a sordid business, but Catherine acted discreetly and efficiently, showing that she was worldly and open-minded. Furthermore, she did not judge her mother, and Dr Barry was full of praise for her ‘truly filial affection to a mistaken parent’.8
Wanstead was a pet project for Catherine. She had set her heart on living there as soon as she married and consequently supervised the refurbishments closely. Almost a century had passed since the first Earl Tylney built the house, so specialist artisans were employed to revive the interiors, the chipped paintwork and faded gilding. Whenever she was away, Mr Bullock wrote with updates: ‘Painting the upper storey has been much the most troublesome and tedious, on account of the ceiling and other carved work.’9 Concerning the Great Hall, he reported, ‘I have not suffered them to do anything . . . until you see it again.’10 Looming two storeys above the Great Hall was an ornately gilded ceiling, framing a fresco painted by William Kent depicting scenes of Morning, Noon, Evening and Night. Restoring this work of art involved delicate workmanship, but Catherine sought specialist advice and sent strict instructions on how to proceed. Mr Bullock wrote back immediately, assuring her that ‘no time will be lost, in getting it completed’.11
The formal gardens were in disrepair. Locals had grown accustomed to driving their carts through the gardens, causing damage, and it quickly became clear that one of her priorities was to stop trespassers and secure the parkland around the house. Catherine also became involved in a dispute with the Duke de Bourbon, her former tenant, who persisted in keeping his hounds nearby at Woodford and then turning up regularly at Wanstead with large hunting parties, damaging the gardens and distressing the pheasants that the gamekeeper was trying to raise. It must have taken courage for a single lady to confront a member of the French royal family, but having already politely written to him on several occasions, Catherine was not afraid to take the matter further and instruct her legal advisors. Her solicitor agreed that very strong measures were required, ‘as not only your property, but even your domestic comforts are thus assailed, and the whole neighbourhood are very warm in their complaints of the trespass committed by the Duke and his hounds’.12 True to form, Catherine remained courteous but resolute until the duke was shamed into sending an apology along with assurances that it would not happen again.13
Privacy and personal security were also concerns. Due to her celebrity status, Catherine was pursued by newsmen eager for a story and fanatics trying to catch a glimpse of her, as well as undesirables issuing death threats. Owing to this, she decided that she would not renew the leases on certain holdings adjoining the park, as she did not want tenants living within close proximity of the main house. The Lake House was a particularly delightful structure located on a small island at the centre of the lake, previously used as a banqueting hall by the first Earl Tylney. Having rented the property for many years, Mr McClean hotly objected when Catherine served him notice. In response, she was firm but fair, granting a short extension, offering alternative accommodation, but insisting that he vacate the Lake House within one year.14 Similar notices were served to the tenants at Blake Hall and Highlands House, followed by equally loud protests, which were dealt with as before. Catherine disliked confrontation, but she had become adept at standing her ground to achieve her goals and set her affairs in order. Since coming of age, Catherine had demonstrated that she was a force to be reckoned with, asserting her authority in no uncertain terms. Although she coped admirably, it was daunting for her to conduct such hard-edged business in a male-dominated world and the burden of responsibility sat heavily on her shoulders. She wished for a husband by her side, supporting, advising and sharing the load.
Refurbishments at Wanstead House were progressing well enough for Catherine to host a ‘splendid déjeune’ on Wednesday 10 July 1811, a fete lasting all day and night with dancing and entertainment continuing into the early hours.15 It was an opportunity to prove herself to her new London circle and to show off her magnificent home. Guests began arriving at two o’clock, carriages rattling through the stone gateposts just when the house and gardens were at their most glorious, bathed in afternoon sunlight. Entering the park, visitors admired the aspect of the house in the distance, standing on high ground with lawns sloping gently down to the octagonal lake. The approach provided delights at every turn: Sir Josiah’s stately avenue of elms, the steeple of St Mary’s Church and perfectly manicured gardens. Alighting on the elevated terrace, London’s finest gazed in awe at their surroundings: the elegant sweep of the house, the majestic portico with soaring Corinthian columns, plus the beautiful prospect of the river with lakes, walks and wildernesses beyond. As Catherine stood in the portico greeting her guests, radiantly beautiful, framed by the backdrop of her magnificent Palladian palace, it was easy to see why her allure might be overwhelming.
The Royal Dukes of Clarence, Cumberland and Cambridge arrived at about four o’clock, and dancing commenced soon after on temporary platforms erected on the lawns. German waltzes graced one platform, while Mr Gow’s famous orchestra played reels in a tent some distance away and the Duke of York’s military band entertained in another area. Those who did not wish to dance promenaded through the pleasure grounds or took a guided tour of the house, passing through twenty staterooms sumptuously furnished with paintings and artwork. Déjeune was served around six o’clock, with Catherine seated in the Great Hall amongst her most distinguished guests. No expense was spared, with food provided by London’s most renowned caterer:
The company sat down, to partake of the delicacies of the season, provided by Mr Gunter, the celebrated confectioner . . . At the banquet there were seven hundred and eighty-two dishes of roast and boiled; and five hundred baskets of fruit . . . Soups – turtle, vegetable and pea. Roasts – venison, pheasants, chicken, lamb, veal. Boiled – tongue, ham, prawns, lobsters and crayfish. To this it may be added, jellies, ice-creams, chantellias, and whip cream, crepes, pastries, [etc.].16
Dancing recommenced in the ballroom and went on until two o’clock in the morning, when a second banquet was served, equally as costly as the first, and guests did not disperse until dawn. Newspapers reported over the course of several days, as snippets of gossip emerged. On 14 July, the Morning Post highlighted the frenzy surrounding Catherine, describing how villagers attempted to catch a glimpse of the proceedings: ‘A strong party of the police preserved order . . . upwards of ten thousand people . . . were standing over every barrier, and up every tree to gratify a more eager curiosity than we ever before witnessed on any similar occasion.’ On 15 July, the Morning Post reported that the fete excited such interest in the fashionable world that there were more than six hundred gate-crashes. Some turned up claiming to be related to dukes, while others ‘that had invitations, brought three and four persons with them, and as they were of titled distinction, Lady Catherine knew not how to refuse them’.17 As a result, the food was adequate but not plentiful because around 1,200 people sat down for the banquet, instead of the expected 550.
In many respects the purpose of the déjeune was to display everything Catherine had to offer, including her personal attributes. Newspapers recorded, ‘The ball was led off with a new and very lively tune, composed by the rich and accomplished heiress.’18 Catherine’s composition was a simple but sweet piano piece, known simply as ‘Miss Tylney Long’s Waltz’. It became one of the most popular melodies of 1812, with the accompanying quadrille danced in ballrooms across the country.19 Exhibiting considerable social skills, Catherine demonstrated that she was a talented musician, a graceful dancer and a charming hostess with a lively sense of humour. Highly gifted and possessing many fine qualities, Catherine was captivating; many men were genuinely in love with her. The déjeune revealed that she was competent, well able to manage a large house and organize an event of this scale. It was clear that she would be an asset to any man, even one as high ranking as a prince.
The press were in awe of Catherine and everything she had accomplished in such a short space of time. Her déjeune was such a triumph that the Morning Post declared, ‘we have beheld nothing which will bear comparison with it’.20 Just as Dr Barry had predicted, the better part of society was applauding. Catherine had become a perfect role model for ladies of business, and women in general. Catherine was an enthralling woman, vivacious in company, but politely determined in business. She was a beguiling combination of sweetness and courage, delicacy and drive. She wanted a husband who would love and cherish her, who would share her hopes and aspirations and would work alongside her to carve their niche in society. Believing that he was the best man for the job, the Duke of Clarence issued another proposal, also reminding everyone that he was the ‘first unmarried man in the kingdom’.21 Catherine could be queen, and Wanstead would make a perfect royal palace. Catherine’s family actively encouraged the match; her mother, her aunt Lady de Crespigny and her uncle Henry Windsor all tried to persuade the heiress to acknowledge the duke as her suitor.
Much to everyone’s alarm, however, it was becoming apparent that Catherine had set her sights elsewhere. William Wellesley Pole possessed the dashing good looks of an archetypal romantic hero, with dark wavy hair, piercing blue eyes and a dazzling smile. Naturally, he was a charmer and highly unsuitable on many levels, but Catherine was completely smitten.