AUTUMN 1811
With his main rival sidelined, the Duke of Clarence felt confident that Catherine would agree to marry him eventually. Negotiations continued with Catherine’s aunt, Lady de Crespigny, who pointed out that no self-respecting woman would accept a marriage proposal from a man who was still living openly with his mistress! By now the duke had ‘convinced himself that he loved Miss Long as well as desired her fortune’, and he was prepared to go to extraordinary lengths to capture her affection.1 Early in October, he returned home and ended his twenty-year relationship with Mrs Jordan. Then he removed all his belongings from the family home, so that the separation became public and official.
With Mrs Jordan callously disposed of, Clarence was free to pursue Catherine with renewed vigour, and he invited the Tylney Long sisters to grand balls and intimate supper parties. Lady Catherine was delighted that her family were part of the elite royal inner circle and was particularly enamoured with the prospect of having royal grandchildren. As she had been happily married to a man twenty years her senior, Lady Catherine hoped that her daughter would look favourably on the duke’s proposal.
Throughout the following four weeks, the duke inundated Lady de Crespigny with letters, pouring out his hopes. Early on he gushed, ‘I really flatter myself that the lovely little nice angel does not positively hate me. I walk with her and of course never leave her . . . her dear little eyes sparkled with pleasure at many things I said.’2 The sparkle he detected may well have been Catherine’s eyes glazing over. The old duke dominated her attention, getting drunk and divulging excruciatingly dull stories about his exploits in the navy.
Over the course of one week, Clarence pursued Catherine relentlessly, declaring his love constantly, proposing marriage at least half a dozen times and referring to her as ‘the charmer of my heart and soul’.3 She remained unfailing polite, but the duke drove her to distraction. Whenever he tried to ‘venture the topic of love’, she cut him short saying, ‘I must ever respect you as the Prince’.4
Eventually, with her customary degree of candour, Catherine felt compelled to speak her mind. The duke reported back to Lady de Crespigny: ‘Miss Long has already expressed to me she considers my attention too pointed, in consequence of which, since last Monday, I have not seen her.’5
Leaks to the press were commonplace. Private details of the courtship found their way into the public domain, which was why press reports and caricatures contained such accurate information. On 1 November 1811, the Morning Chronicle mocked Clarence’s zealous pursuit of Catherine, reporting that he wooed her ‘with the magnificence and ardour of an English tar (sailor)’. Newspapers were fed intimate details about Clarence by close friends of his jilted mistress,6 and Peter Pindar’s illustrated poem, ‘The Royal Lover’, was particularly close to the mark.7 It showed the blundering duke proposing on one knee. His foolish expression and Catherine’s wagging finger accurately depicted the sentiments revealed in private letters.
With Clarence dominating her time, Catherine was growing increasingly despondent. Luckily, William was about to come to her rescue. The renowned Wellesley charm concealed a grittily determined nature. Refusing to be beaten, he saddled up his steed, galloped to Broadstairs and pleaded for forgiveness. Relieved to see him, Catherine relented immediately. The Duke of Clarence was perturbed, complaining to Lady de Crespigny, ‘This morning I found Miss Long walking with her mother and Emma followed by Pole.’8
At the ball that evening, Clarence extracted a promise from Lady Catherine that her daughter would dance only with him. When William tried to cut in, the duke jigged on, telling him very civilly, ‘I would not give her up to any man.’9 Imagine poor Catherine’s predicament, having to dance all night with the odious old duke, his overweight body damp with sweat, his breath stale with tobacco. Eventually the heiress made the classic excuse, ‘that she had hurt her foot’, and sat out the dancing.10
Clarence always used heavenly imagery when describing Catherine. Sensing his chances slipping away, his desperation was evident as he appealed to Lady de Crespigny: ‘The bewitching Catherine looked not mortal but divine. Do try to persuade this dear and lovely angel to think more favourably of me. I really deserve her.’11
It takes bravery to stand firm against your family, to defy all their hopes and expectations. The pressure was immense and poor Catherine was in a quandary. She was aware that marriage to the Duke of Clarence would raise her clan to great heights – the Tylneys could be the future kings and queens of England. But when she looked up into his fleshy, lined face her resolve vanished. Perhaps she might have succumbed if she was not already in love with another man, but she had admitted to her sisters that her ‘heart was won’ by William, who was constantly in her thoughts.12 Should she sacrifice the man she adored for the prestige of becoming royalty?
Intrigued by Catherine’s predicament, the public debated her dilemma and even more cartoons appeared. William’s surname had lewd connotations, which the press found irresistible, and satirists claimed that Catherine found it ‘impossible to resist such a Pole’. They continued in this vein with the caricature Miss Long-ing for a Pole,13 which showed William standing proud, clutching an impressively ‘Long Pole’, calf muscles rippling, with the watering can and rake alluding to him sowing wild oats. In contrast, the paunchy duke looked unappealing with his mistress and ten children clamouring in the background. Catherine stood between them, her skirt filled with gold coins and her hand reaching out towards William.
Revelling in the company of her debonair young suitor, Catherine’s good humour returned. The physical attraction and sexual tension was evident. There was no more flirting with other men, because she was deeply in love with William, who ‘was always at her elbow’ or by her side. Everyone at Broadstairs could tell that the young couple shared a great deal in common; they were always gay and happy in each other’s company, laughing and joking, engaging in playful banter. But their relationship ran much deeper: William was one of the few people Catherine confided in. Celebrity can be lonely, never knowing who to trust, and it was a relief for her to be able to let down her guard and truly be herself. Discussing their hopes and dreams for the future, the couple talked earnestly at great length and seemed to share profound understanding.
But still, Lady Catherine would not consent to the match and Catherine was equally resolute in refusing to accept the Duke of Clarence. At the end of October Catherine celebrated her twenty-second birthday and shortly afterwards the whole family returned to their home at Draycot to settle in for the winter. It was an unsatisfactory situation, because the season was over and Catherine had still not settled on a husband. Legally, she did not need parental consent as she was over the age of twenty-one. However, she was a respectful, dutiful daughter who would not get married without her mother’s blessing.
When they parted, the Duke of Clarence had asked Catherine to write to him, but William could not face the whole winter without his sweetheart. He drove to Wiltshire and stayed in lodgings near Draycot, bribing servants to assist as the courtship carried on clandestinely. The frisson created by these forbidden trysts was deliciously thrilling, hardening the lovers’ resolve and passion. William was exemplary in the role of romantic hero, as one diarist recalled:14
Wellesley used to drive his Tilbury down to the Langley Brewery, leave it there, and then hide himself in the sunk fence in front of this house . . . When he had watched Lady Catherine drive across the common into Chippenham with her four or six long-tailed black horses, he would run down to the Brewery, get into his Tilbury, and gallop over to Draycot, where he saw Miss Long by the connivance of the servants.
Rules of propriety demanded that unmarried women were chaperoned at all times, so it was highly unusual for Catherine to entertain a man alone. Sneaking her lover into the house was risqué; it paid testament to the strength of her desire for William. Under normal circumstances these illicit meetings would probably have ruined her reputation, but enormous wealth made her immune – nothing could damage her marriage prospects. Although it is unlikely that she would have risked full intercourse, some form of sexual dalliance probably took place. For the era, Catherine’s behaviour was brazen, revealing the bold and daring side to her nature.
On one occasion William happened to be at Draycot House when a man broke in, hoping to ambush Catherine. A fanatical stalker named Mr Scott had been harassing the heiress for eighteen months, bombarding her with declarations of love and insisting ‘it was ordained that they should be matched . . . only he would make her happy’.15 When this did not have the desired effect, Scott took up residence nearby, attempting to force his way into the family home on countless occasions and regularly waylaying Catherine’s carriage.16 The Tylney Long ladies had grown so fearful that they had hired guards for protection and were prisoners in their own home. The local magistrate could not persuade Scott to desist, so William gallantly sprang into action. Galloping on horseback all the way to London, he returned some days later with Townsend, a Bow Street officer, who threatened to take Scott into custody for breach of the peace. This had the desired effect; after some hesitation, Scott ordered a chaise and left town.
Once again, The Times and Morning Chronicle followed the unfolding melodrama gleefully and a few days later another cartoon appeared in print shops. ‘Townsend the umpire of love’ showed William sheltering behind the Bow Street officer as he fended off the stalker.17 The caricature also likened Catherine and William’s courtship to one of the greatest love stories of all time, showing them as star-crossed lovers forced apart by disapproving families. Portrayed as Juliet on the balcony, Catherine cries out to her Romeo, ‘Risk not thy precious life my Love.’ Her passion for William was clear for all to see.
William came from a powerful family and the Wellesleys exerted influence over Lady Catherine. ‘Lady Wellington in particular [was] most active,’18 especially after William saved the life of her little boy. The incident occurred in Broadstairs while the family was away from home, without access to the trusted family physician. When the child became seriously ill, William acted quickly by saddling up his horse, locating a reliable physician and driving him to the house. Lady Wellington applauded William’s heroism all over town, stating that ‘the boy would certainly have died if William had not by his extraordinary exertions brought Doctor Mayo at the moment he did’.19
Broadstairs had been abuzz with the story of William’s heroism and even Lady Catherine began to thaw. Despite her misgivings, she eventually consented to the match because her daughter’s happiness was paramount. Catherine was a romantic young woman, completely infatuated with William. Who could blame her, after he had played the part of romantic hero so brilliantly, even galloping up on horseback to woo her! To add to the allure, he was witty, handsome, a risk taker and a cad – ‘the combination was irresistible’.20
Speculation finally over, newspapers announced the engagement in November 1811: ‘Miss Tylney Long, confessedly the richest heiress in Europe, after having been besieged by Dukes, Marquesses, and Earls, English, Scotch, and Irish, is said to be about to surrender to a Subaltern of the enterprising corps of Wellesley.’21 The fashionable world was shocked by her decision. Catherine had challenged the conventions of her time, fighting for the right to marry for love rather than status. She gave up a great deal for William and only time would tell if she had made the right choice. William was the man she picked, for better or for worse – despite knowing the truth about his past.
Gallant in defeat, Clarence sent Catherine a fond message through Lady de Crespigny: ‘The Duke Of Clarence asked me to say he hopes you have taken a marriage that will ensure the happiness you so deserve and that you have and always will have his best wishes.’22 At the time, Catherine could not have anticipated that her decision would have major significance, affecting the very course of British history. In 1830, the Duke of Clarence was crowned William IV. If Catherine had married him she would have become Queen of England and her children would have ascended to the throne. Instead, William IV died without producing any legitimate heirs and his niece was crowned Queen Victoria.