MARCH 1820
Debonair as ever, destitute Brummell was waiting to welcome William when his boat docked in Calais. Arriving at Beau’s lodgings, shivering uncontrollably, William pulled a chair up to the fire. His old friend quipped, ‘Why Wellesley you appear cold! It must have been devilishly hot in England, or we should never have seen you here.’1 For almost a decade the two men had been ‘in habits of intimacy’, and they conversed candidly as they strolled arm-in-arm through the port.2 William moved into lodgings, hoping that it would be purely on a temporary basis as he intended to return to England as soon as a parliamentary seat could be found for him.
Calais in April was dull, dismal and desolate. There were no sights worth visiting; for most travellers the town was simply a place to pass through on their way to other destinations. William was accustomed to being part of a celebrity couple, attending lavish dinners and balls. He hated being alone in France with no society apart from his old friend. Impoverished, Brummell would have been living on the streets if some of his old friends had not rallied around. The Marquess of Worcester had come to his rescue, exerting influence to secure a position at the consulate at Caen. As a result, Brummell earned a small wage and relied on the generosity of anyone prepared to invite him to supper. A renowned wit and raconteur, the exiled leader of the dandies had formerly been one of the most sought-after dinner guests in London. William was shocked to witness his pitiful lifestyle first-hand.
Hardship and isolation gave William time to reflect; he did not want to end up alone like Brummell. William was determined to return to England as soon as possible; much to his own surprise, he discovered that he missed his wife and children dreadfully. Letters flew backwards and forwards across the Channel as he consulted with advisors endeavouring to draw up an agreement that would satisfy his creditors. Mr Lightfoot, one of his solicitors, travelled to Calais and William executed the Wanstead House Deed on 11 May 1820. Under the terms of the agreement, £30,000-worth of goods from Wanstead House was to be held by creditors as security for a period of two years. If debts were not repaid within this timescale, assets would be seized.3 Forever the optimist, William felt confident that all his debts would be settled within six months, and the charge over the contents at Wanstead House lifted. In the meantime, as soon as agreement was reached with his creditors, William intended to return to England and resume his role as lord of the manor at Wanstead.
At the meeting of creditors, it transpired that thirty people were owed a total of £25,000, and they were all willing to sign the Wanstead House Deed. Only one person, Mr Timberlake, attended with an attorney and refused to sign the agreement. He subsequently went to court and obtained a judgement for £3,000. Outraged by the turn of events, William insisted that his debt to Timberlake was only £100, but he was unable to attend court to refute the claim. The unsatisfied judgement registered against him meant that he could not return home in the foreseeable future.
William had already set the wheels in motion to dispose of assets such as his horses, carriages and valuable timber from the estates. Now that he was stuck in France, he needed a trustee to handle his affairs in England. His reliable fixer Shawe was the obvious choice and William was relieved when he agreed to take on the task. Documents were signed giving Shawe the power to act for William. It would prove to be an onerous undertaking. Although William’s situation was dire, he was unrealistic, refusing to accept the cutbacks Shawe suggested. On one occasion William insisted, ‘the idea of one carriage and one man-servant is all nonsense’.4
Desperately homesick, William often stood on the ramparts at Calais gazing across the Channel at England. On clear days he could see the white cliffs of Dover and their proximity made him even more frustrated. His wife had promised to follow him to France, but she had already postponed her departure several times and it was becoming apparent that she was simply finding excuses not to join him. William was aware that Catherine had the means to live very comfortably on her own; she could stay at Wanstead or take the children to live with her mother and sisters at Draycot. He was at her mercy; without her financial support, he was completely destitute. Fearing that he had been abandoned, William sent her a heartfelt note from Calais pleading, ‘the sooner you can come here the better’.5
Catherine was in no hurry to follow her husband to France after he had run up such extortionate liabilities – she decided to let him stew for a while. Catherine was not liable for his debts as the marriage settlement had been specifically drawn up to protect her assets. Rents were still coming in from the estates, and she was entitled to draw her pin money of £7,000, which would now be paid to her direct. Anxious to get his hands on her income, William counselled his wife, ‘I took very good care in the instructions I had drawn up, to give Shawe and Forbes power to settle my affairs, not to touch the [£7,000] per annum, which is yours; and of course you will sign no document to give them such power.’6
William was also entitled to his share of rents from the estates, but he was so deeply in debt that his income was immediately swallowed up into a vast black hole. Nobody would have blamed Catherine if she had decided to let her wayward husband rot in Calais. Dejected, William continued to plead with her: ‘I have received a most gloomy letter from Shawe upon the subject of my affairs. A hint is thrown out to me to leave my children, the boys, in England for six months; if the thing is proposed to you, I beg you will say I have the most decided objection to it, and never will assent to such folly. I may give up my property to pay my debts, but I will not give up my children.’7
Catherine was considering her options and she needed reassurances. Yearning to be reunited with his family, William promised to curb his spending and live within his means. Loyal as ever, it did not take Catherine very long to concede. It was not easy to relocate to another country with three young children in tow, but she was a capable woman and the arrangements were made swiftly. It would have been inappropriate for her to travel without a male escort so she was relieved when Bicknell agreed to accompany her. The loyal butler had the manners and bearing of a gentleman and his help on the journey was invaluable. With all the upheaval the children had to endure, Catherine did not want to separate them from all the people they held dear; she took their nursemaids along with a small entourage of her most trustworthy staff.
Relieved to see his wife, William took Catherine in his arms and declared that he had been desolate without her and the children. Making light of the situation, she reminded him that she had always longed to travel across Europe and was excited about the adventures that lay ahead. Catherine had planned meticulously, working out a tight budget that included accommodation, staff and carriage costs. She calculated that for a family of five to spend twelve months in France, the total cost would be £888 10s 4d.8 Perhaps this estimate was unrealistic, but Catherine wanted to live as moderately as possible so that William’s debts could be repaid quickly. If they managed to live on £1,000, she would have £6,000 left over to pay to creditors.
William had other ideas; he lived in the moment, and convinced his wife that they should make the most of their sojourn in France. Within days of Catherine arriving, armed with her chequebook, the family travelled to Paris and acquired rooms at the fashionable Hôtel d’Aument, near the Champs-Élysées. The hotel held all the genteel trappings required for the Long Wellesleys to launch into Parisian high society. Their elegant apartments included spacious drawing rooms and an intimate dining room. Stables behind the courtyard comfortably accommodated William’s precious horses and carriages, which had been transported from England, along with his expensive clothing and other prized possessions. As soon as the family were unpacked, William set about hiring more staff, including a superb French cook, a housemaid, a groom and a coachman called John Randall. Although William was generous when lavishing money on himself, he was less inclined to consider the needs of his children. Catherine wanted to hire a tutor for the boys, but William assured her that it was an unnecessary expense as they would be back at home within the year.
Paris was Europe’s foremost city of fashion and gastronomy and the English elite flocked there in droves after the Napoleonic Wars had ended. Many had established themselves in Paris in a similar fashion to the Long Wellesleys, including the Marquess of Bristol, Lord and Lady Jersey, Lords Rancliffe, Thanet, Kensington, Berkeley Craven, Campbell, Irvine and Thomas Moore, to name but a few.9 Within days the Long Wellesleys became part of the social elite. Catherine was a popular, well-connected woman with many friends in Paris, including her distant cousin Lord John Russell (the famous Whig politician and reformer who would become prime minister in 1846). Invitations also arrived from the French royal family who were keen to honour Wellington’s nephew and pay their respects to their former landlady from their years in exile at Wanstead House.
Alone in Calais, William had been miserable without his wife and the comforts she afforded him. Catherine’s pin money paid for his luxurious accommodation, his magnificent thoroughbreds and his dazzling lifestyle. He appreciated that he was nothing without Catherine; his lucrative marriage gave him the status he craved. True to his word, William was extremely indulgent towards his wife. The couple dined out together every evening, meeting friends at smart hotels or attending assembly rooms for supper and dancing. Paris was wonderfully romantic and Catherine basked in the blissful glow of a second honeymoon. William seemed to have fallen in love with her all over again; he was attentive in company and ardent in private. Before entering her bedchamber for a night of passion, he always gave her a signal by tapping his signature tattoo on her door, as if to announce the arrival of an important guest. Catherine had not seen much of her husband in the previous two years as he had been busy with elections and parliamentary duties and, though she did not know it, Mrs Kinnaird. She loved being with William every day and nestling in his arms every night.
Catherine’s sweet, natural, engaging nature always drew people to her. Making friends easily, she quickly became part of a set of fashionable ladies who took afternoon tea together. Her constant companion was the cultured Englishwoman Countess Montalembert. The ladies often drove out together, along the Champs-Élysées, a wide tree-lined boulevard with lawns and ornamental gardens on each side. The beau monde paraded there every afternoon during the summer, just as they did during fashionable hour in Hyde Park. William tended to take his ride at the same time each day, hoping to glimpse his wife while she was out driving in her small open barouche. Whenever they met, it was always with delight and pleasure. They would both stop to chat, and then William would kiss his wife’s hand extravagantly before she drove on. ‘Your husband is most attentive,’ commented the Countess of Montalembert one afternoon, as she studied her friend’s rosy glow.
Smiling broadly, Catherine replied, ‘I have never been happier in my entire life.’10
William also felt liberated; life in Paris was like a long holiday. With a team of experts managing his estates and no parliamentary responsibilities, he could indulge himself even more than usual, hunting during the day and revelling with friends every evening. His Paris set comprised many political figures, including Whigs, Liberals, Reformers and red-hot Tories. Discussions often became heated as the gentlemen debated the Corn Laws and other important issues over a glass of fine French wine. Most evenings, after Catherine had retired for the night, William went on to clubs for port, cigars and animated conversation. On these occasions, his frequent companion was Thomas Moore, the entertaining Irish poet, singer and songwriter. Lyrical Tom Moore, who was the same age as William, had earned a fortune from his popular ballads and writing. His extravagant lifestyle resulted in huge debts, and he was forced to flee England in 1819. As a good friend of Lord Byron, Moore shared the poet’s opinion that William was a fool. However, he also found the Long Pole extremely amusing, appreciating his droll humour and endless supply of ridiculous anecdotes. The two gentlemen often stayed up until the early hours drinking, telling bawdy jokes or singing Irish ballads. On other nights, left to his own devices, William would slip away to pass a few pleasant hours in a brothel.11
The lively Paris set was always arranging parties and a big celebration was planned for St Patrick’s Day. There was some debate about who should take the chair for the evening, with entertaining Tom Moore being the popular choice, although William held forth insisting that he deserved the honour. Lord Charlemont, who was proud of his Irish heritage, was quick to point out, ‘Mr Long Wellesley is an Englishman born and bred. Surely an Irishman should have the Chair on this occasion.’ Everyone agreed, and Moore was duly elected.12 On 17 March, sixty people sat down to a sumptuous dinner at Cadran Bleu and Tom Moore performed folk songs and ballads as guests joined in. William stood at the head of the table, jigging and singing along at the top of his voice, prompting Moore to comment that it was impressive that an Englishman should know so many Irish songs. Taking the jibe with good grace, William faced his audience and took a bow. Despite all the hilarity, the evening ended badly and Tom Moore recorded in his diary, ‘About six or seven drunken fools (Long Wellesley at their head) remained after the party broke up and disgraced it by quarrelling among themselves, which made it necessary to call in the Gens-d’armes.’13 Clearly, William’s days as a hellraiser were not over.
William convinced himself that everything would be resolved satisfactorily. Distanced from the reality of his problems, he put his credit crisis to the back of his mind and continued to be the life and soul of the party, revelling in the company of his friends until the early hours. Just a few days after Napoleon died in May 1821, a new yarn was doing the rounds. Lingering over port one evening, William and his friends were amused by the story. When news of Bonaparte’s death reached England, Sir Edward Neagle was sent immediately to inform King George. He hurried in, bowed low and announced, ‘I have the pleasure to tell Your Majesty that your bitterest enemy is dead.’
‘No – is she, by Gad!’ said the king. ‘My wife is dead?’
Neagle cringed. ‘Queen Caroline is quite well, Your Majesty. Napoleon is dead.’14
Catherine enjoyed sharing the many pleasures of Paris with her children. The family apartments were in the centre of town, so she often took them out for walks past the fashionable shops. Victoria had grown chubby due to her love of French patisseries. She insisted on going out every morning so that she could press her face up against the window of the local cake shop and choose from the mouth-watering array of chocolate éclairs, oozing fresh cream slices or round tarts bursting with fresh strawberries. Sometimes Catherine would sit drinking coffee while Victoria devoured her cake in a cafe. On other occasions, the patisserie was placed reverentially in a small white box and tied with a thin red ribbon to take away.
Like a true Englishwoman abroad, Catherine craved small luxuries from home, including Harvey’s brown sauce, English cheese and tongue, and Windsor soap. British produce was available in Paris, plus her sisters regularly sent parcels containing her favourite food. Catherine ensured that Bicknell kept a book of household accounts, in which he meticulously listed daily expenses:15
|
Francs |
Sous |
||
|
23 May |
Mending a parasol for Mrs L.W. |
2 |
10 |
|
Paid for black and red sealing-wax |
4 |
10 |
|
|
Gave the young gentlemen |
10 |
0 |
|
|
Paid a locksmith |
6 |
0 |
|
|
Paid for English cheese |
10 |
10 |
|
|
Paid a bottle of Harvey’s Sauce |
6 |
0 |
|
|
Paid for an umbrella for Mr L.W. |
23 |
0 |
|
|
Paid a bottle of red ink |
2 |
0 |
|
|
Paid for mending Mrs L. W.’s watch |
5 |
0 |
|
|
Paid for a Cabriolet & Fiacre for Mr L. W. |
7 |
10 |
|
|
5 |
0 |
||
|
Paid for writing paper |
8 |
0 |
|
|
Paid for Windsor and common soap |
6 |
10 |
|
|
Paid 2 pair of galoshes for the young men |
11 |
10 |
|
|
27 May |
27 May Paid for postage of a letter for Mrs L.W. |
2 |
12 |
|
Gave Mrs L. W. |
8 |
0 |
|
|
Paid for shoe brushes |
4 |
10 |
|
|
Paid for ivory counters |
3 |
10 |
|
|
Paid for cheese |
2 |
10 |
|
|
Paid for a silk handkerchief Mrs L. W. |
7 |
0 |
|
|
Paid for a parasol for Mrs L. W. |
24 |
0 |
|
|
Paid for a cake & sweetmeats for Miss |
10 |
0 |
|
|
Paid for a ribbon for Miss |
10 |
0 |
|
|
Frs |
176 |
2 |
Conscious of expenditure, Catherine accounted for every franc and tried to keep a tight rein on finances. The Long Wellesleys still enjoyed luxuries such as horses and carriages, good food and wine, but on a less ostentatious scale. Living at Wanstead House had incurred enormous costs: the lavish parties, the stables and hounds, the heating and lighting, plus the numerous staff that tended the grounds and house. Residing in a rented apartment in Paris was cheap by comparison, particularly as they did not keep many servants, or entertain extravagantly at home. This meant that the family could live very comfortably on her income of £7,000, which arrived from England in quarterly instalments of £1,750.
Catherine had always been sensible about money. Although she had spent freely on her coming-of-age celebrations and on her wedding outfit, her expenditure had always been within her means. In contrast, William had run through the £300,000 in her bank account in around two years, and then continued to spend copiously. His extravagance was now curtailed. Nobody would extend him credit, so he had no choice but to survive on Catherine’s income. Unfortunately, however, the damage had already been done.