1823
Driven by his libido, William was impetuous, reckless and amoral. The illicit thrill was like a drug to him and it is possible that he had a sex addiction. During his entire stay on the continent – whether in Paris, Calais or Naples – he was in the habit of visiting prostitutes several times a week.1 William enjoyed high society, but he also liked to move in the back alleys, mixing in the lowest circles. From the time of his arrival in Naples, he employed a man named Bordesi, ostensibly to teach him Italian, but in reality the man was his ruffiano or pimp, a thug brought in to source prostitutes for William or handle other dubious dealings.2 Boasting to Bulkeley, William claimed that his man, Bordesi, ‘was a consummate bravo, and had murdered nine persons’.3
Living dangerously was inherent in William. His wife had made it clear that she would never share him with another woman, so he could not afford to get caught out. Another episode like the Maria Kinnaird affair would be disastrous for him because he was completely reliant on his wife’s money. Moreover, although he had not bothered to stay in touch with his former mistress, Catherine continued to maintain his illegitimate child by providing an annuity of £500, which served as a constant reminder of his past indiscretions. Nevertheless, the perils of adultery only served to make infidelities even more exciting for him.
The elite social circle in Naples revolved around the British ambassador, William Hamilton, who enjoyed hosting glittering functions at the embassy with the help of his wife and his sister, Mrs Maxwell. Mrs Maxwell had a long-standing acquaintance with the Wellesley family and had been part of Wellington’s circle when he served in India. Having known William when he was a handsome young dandy, she was pleased to find that he was still a fine specimen of an Englishman. At the age of thirty-five William possessed the mesmerizing charm and good looks that characterized all the Wellesley men. His smiling eyes now crinkled attractively at the corners and slivers of silver streaked the dark hair at his temples, while audacious arrogance simply added to his allure. Mrs Maxwell was rather taken with him, but she was not the only one to be dazzled by his charm.
In April the expatriate community was abuzz with reports of two new arrivals and several of Catherine’s acquaintances mentioned meeting ‘the handsome Mrs Bligh’.4 A few evenings later, during an embassy function, Catherine saw William talking to an exceptionally alluring young woman with alabaster skin and exquisitely chiselled features, reminiscent of delicate fine china. The pale translucency of her complexion had an ethereal quality, contrasting with her glossy dark hair and startling blue eyes. William must have noticed his wife’s watchful gaze, because he went over to her shortly afterwards. When Catherine enquired who the lady was, William looked surprised and replied, ‘It is impossible that you do not recollect her.’5
It transpired that Helena Bligh had lived at the Lake House in Wanstead for a number of years, with her parents Colonel and Mrs Paterson, attending balls and parties there in 1813 and 1814. Catherine had vague recollections of the family that had moved into the Lake House shortly after her marriage but she did not recognize Mrs Bligh, who had been just sixteen years old the last time they met. In contrast, however, the other woman had vivid memories of her visits to the great house, where she had been awestruck by the glittering entertainment, as well as the spellbinding host. Helena had been one of the throngs of young women harbouring a secret infatuation for the desirable Mr Long Wellesley, admiring him from afar. On being introduced to Mrs Bligh, Catherine found her to be ‘an agreeable, quiet person’.6
From then onwards, whenever Catherine hosted large dinner parties, she invited Captain and Mrs Bligh and gradually became friendlier with them. After some weeks, the Blighs went out sailing on Catherine’s pleasure barge and were guests in William’s box at the opera. Catherine had her own group of friends and was not particularly intimate with Mrs Bligh, but she could not help noticing that her husband paid Helena a great deal of attention.7 William explained that Helena was a long-standing family acquaintance, so Catherine was unconcerned. When he started to call on Helena at her home, however, he needed a more concrete reason for the intimacy. Eventually, he confided in his wife and revealed a family secret – Helena was his cousin. Before long, William had made this claim in many quarters, saying to one friend, ‘I will introduce you to a damn’d fine woman, the daughter of the Duke of Wellington, and my cousin.’8
William’s story may well have been true. Helena was certainly a protégée of Wellington, and there was conjecture in many quarters that she was his natural daughter.9 For a start, the family resemblance was striking. Added to this, Helena had been born in India during Wellington’s campaign and rumour implied that he had been close to the beautiful Mrs Paterson, even sailing back with mother and child on the voyage home in 1805. On returning to England, Wellington continued to take a keen interest in the welfare of the child, which was one of the reasons William had granted the Paterson family a lease on the Lake House at Wanstead.
Catherine was among those who genuinely believed that Helena was William’s first cousin. Owing to this, she was not alarmed by the amount of time her husband was spending with the ethereal beauty. The Wellesleys were a close family, so the relationship seemed perfectly natural to her. William claimed that Helena needed his help and advice because she ‘lived very unhappily with her husband’, who was prone to violent outbursts towards her. Having had some personal experience of domestic disharmony, Catherine empathized, feeling genuine concern for Helena’s troubles.10
Dr Bulkeley was relieved that Catherine was finally emerging from her melancholy. She continued to spend a lot of time with her children, especially her little daughter, who was too young to attend lessons with Pitman. Victoria was still weak from the illness that had caused severe hair loss and Catherine fussed over her, taking her out whenever she went on sailing trips and other excursions. A popular lady, Catherine made friends easily and her Naples set included Princess Rasimousky and Sir Richard Church. Resourceful and capable, Catherine was a self-contained woman, accustomed to pursuing her own interests independently of her husband. Sailing became her greatest novelty.
Catherine had grown particularly close to Sir Richard Church, an Anglo-Irish major general of around forty, decorated in 1815 for leading the campaign that drove the French out of Styria, Croatia and Istria.11 He was an immensely attractive man with masses of unruly dark hair, a wide generous smile and a large well-groomed moustache. As Sir Richard could not afford to keep his own pleasure boat, he was only too delighted to be captain of Mrs Long Wellesley’s vessel whenever the opportunity arose. Almost every day, Catherine and a small party of friends would set sail, heading for the island of Capri or some other picturesque spot where they could stop to soak up the scenery and enjoy a picnic accompanied by a glass or two of chilled wine.
William preferred to hunt or to explore the stunning landscape on horseback, so he was perfectly content to leave his wife in the capable hands of the dashing military commander. With Catherine suitably diverted, it was easier for him to go about his own business undetected. Catherine’s routine was leisurely; she took breakfast on a tray in her room, spent time with her children and went out sailing later in the day. Parasols protected the family from the sun and a pleasant breeze from the water kept them cool. Enjoying separate pursuits, the Long Wellesleys looked forward to meeting up in the evenings when they entertained large parties on their scented terrace, or went to the theatre, embassy functions or other places of amusement, often staying out together until three or four o’clock in the morning. This arrangement suited them both, and John Meara noted that ‘they lived very happily together’.12
Naples and its environs offered many interesting sights, inspiring William to organize outings to amuse his friends. Helena Bligh was often included in his group, but her husband was not always able to join in due to delicate health. Suffering from an illness contracted during the Peninsular War, Captain Thomas Bligh had moved to southern Europe because his health benefited from the milder climate. Despite this precaution, he was not expected to live for very long. A large group expressed interest when William proposed a night-time excursion to Mount Vesuvius, when views of the volcanic eruptions were most spectacular. Too ill to participate, Captain Bligh objected to his wife being one of the party, because it would involve her staying out overnight, unaccompanied. On hearing this, Helena’s temper became violent and she screamed angrily, ‘I shall do as I please!’ In a vicious tirade she made it clear that she had already sacrificed too much, reminding him that he was sadly lacking in every department, unable to consummate their union or father children. Captain Bligh was shocked by the bitter attack; his wife was usually quiet and sympathetic. Eventually he agreed that she could go on the excursion on the condition that his brother, Edward Bligh, accompanied her.13
The party left Naples at midnight and proceeded in carriages to a hermitage about halfway up the slopes. From there the ladies were taken up the mountain in palanquins carried by bearers, while the gentlemen followed behind on foot. On arriving at the meeting point, Mr Bligh discovered that Helena was not with the other ladies and Mr Long Wellesley could not be found either. Furious that they had somehow managed to slip away from him, Mr Bligh could not find his way back down the mountain without a guide, so he had to wait with the rest of the group. When he arrived back at the hermitage several hours later, he found his sister-in-law there with Long Wellesley. Helena claimed to have stayed behind because she had sprained her ankle.
Edward Bligh was not fooled by the charade and he gave his brother a full account of what had happened at Vesuvius. Captain Bligh challenged his wife, telling her that she was prohibited from going out with Long Wellesley or accepting visits from him. Helena was more than a match for him, arguing savagely. Living in the same house, Edward Bligh, his wife and children witnessed many more bitter disputes over the following days.
Peace and harmony continued to reign in the Long Wellesley household. In the days following the trip to Mount Vesuvius, William became indisposed, causing him to retire to bed much earlier than usual, at around midnight.14 In June 1823, the French ambassador, Monsieur Le Serres, sent an invitation requesting the company of Mr and Mrs Long Wellesley at a grand assembly. On the day of the function William took to his bed, telling his wife that he was too ill to go out. After supper, Catherine got dressed and went into her husband’s bedchamber, where William had been asleep for some hours. Rousing him gently, she asked how he was feeling and tried to induce him to accompany her to the assembly, which promised to be a splendid affair. Catherine looked beautiful in a daringly low-cut gown, her cleavage ablaze with diamonds. After much good-humoured joking about her dress, William teased that she had become ‘quite the dandy’. Nevertheless, he declined to accompany her to the ball because he was still feeling unwell.15
Catherine was confident in the society of her friends and she had no qualms about going out unaccompanied in Naples. Arriving home at around four o’clock in the morning, she tiptoed into William’s bedchamber to check that he was comfortable and was surprised to find the covers pulled back and his bed empty. The sheets were cold to her touch, so it was obvious that William had been gone for some time. Worried that her husband had been taken ill suddenly, Catherine berated herself for going out and leaving him unattended. All her enquiries drew a blank and she was frantic by the time William returned home at around two o’clock the following afternoon. Waltzing in nonchalantly, William was completely unaware that his wife had been looking for him until he saw her worried face. Apologetic, he had a simple excuse for his absence, explaining that as he had slept most of the previous day, he woke up very early that morning and rode out to watch the sunrise over the bay.
From then onwards William seemed to have trouble sleeping and his routine changed considerably. Every evening he retired to bed before midnight and then, supposedly, rose before dawn to go out riding before the sun became too blistering. Rather conveniently, this new regime meant that Catherine never saw her husband between bedtime and two o’clock the following afternoon, when he arrived home from his long ride. The Long Wellesleys had adjoining bedchambers and William started to lock his door from the inside, ostensibly so the children would not disturb him. In reality, it was to prevent Catherine from discovering that he had sneaked out. His valet would help him escape, rousing the porter from his bed and saying ‘a friend of Mr Wellesley needs to get out’.16 This was effected without the porter knowing who was leaving, as William would conceal his face. William quickly discovered, however, that while it was relatively simple to escape from his own apartment, entering Helena’s lodgings undetected was not easy. The problem was solved by his pimp, who arranged a lease on the house next door. From the balcony of his rented property, William could climb onto Helena’s balcony and enter her bedroom through the window.17
Ludicrous as the plot of a French farce, servants in the Bligh household were not fooled by the elaborate charade. Highly titillated by all the carry-on, they delighted in the scandal, competing with each other to find evidence. Helena’s room was at the top of the house but, as Captain Bligh was too infirm to share her bed, he slept on the ground floor. Maids were therefore intrigued to discover the muddy imprints of a man’s top boot on Mrs Bligh’s bedroom rug. They also noted that her plain nightdress had been substituted for luxurious silk robes, ornamented with lace. Then there was the matter of the pet pooch, an animal Helena was so attached to she carried him everywhere, tucked in the crook of her arm like a fashion accessory. The dog had always slept contentedly on her bed, until suddenly he was imprisoned in the stables at night. Even when the desolate dog barked and cried for his mistress, she paid him no heed. One enterprising maid laid a trap, fixing small pins to the shutters in Mrs Bligh’s bedroom – invariably the pins were found on the floor the next morning. Naturally, all this caused much amusement below stairs, with servants gossiping about banished dogs, locked doors, open windows and mysterious footprints.18
Captain Bligh’s physician advocated fresh air and exercise, so the sickly gentleman was in the habit of riding out every evening, at the most genial time of the day. Before long, people noticed that Mr Long Wellesley always called on Mrs Bligh while her husband was out and molten rumours quickly spread throughout Naples. Concerned about the scandal set to erupt within his expatriate community, the British ambassador promptly dispatched his sister to try to help. During her time in India, Mrs Maxwell had been intimately acquainted with the Paterson family and Helena had often been left in her care. As a close friend, Mrs Maxwell felt it her duty to call on the younger woman to warn her about all the gossip circulating. They were sitting in the drawing room drinking tea when Mrs Maxwell recommended that Helena should decline visits from Mr Long Wellesley for the sake of her reputation. Helena insisted that her relationship with William was of ‘long-standing and entirely respectable’, claiming that his visits were for ‘the purpose of consulting him in the unhappy dissention which exists between me and my husband’.19 Mrs Maxwell had never heard any previous complaints about Captain Bligh and could not imagine him harming Helena in any way. The ladies talked intimately for a while longer and the older woman left harbouring the belief that she had convinced Helena to behave with more prudence in future. Mrs Maxwell was sadly mistaken. Caught up in the most tantalizing adventure of her life, Helena had lost all sense of propriety and reason.
As a virginal seventeen-year-old, Helena had married her invalid husband in 1815. At the time she had felt fondness plus a strong sense of sympathy, which she mistook for love. By all accounts the couple lived together in harmony and Helena was a docile wife. This all changed, however, when she met the audacious Mr Long Wellesley, burnished by the Italian sunshine, glowing with health and vitality – the antithesis of her frail, sickly husband. Eight years into her marriage, aged twenty-five, Helena was only just beginning to understand the huge sacrifice she had made in tying herself to a man who never shared her bed. Unable to perform sexually, Captain Bligh would never be able to provide her with children or satisfy her sensual cravings. Bursting with pent-up carnal longing, Helena’s attraction to William was so fierce it made her blood rush and pulse race. The master of seduction, William would have seen the signs and handled her with expertise. Brushing her cheek softly with his lips in a relatively innocent gesture, he waited for the occasion when she would tilt her head back, inviting him to explore further. Whatever techniques he employed, he certainly kept Helena enthralled.
William spent every night in Helena’s bed. A man of many moods, he could be tender and loving, taking her slowly, sweetly and skilfully. On other occasions he was passionate and urgent. Snuggled together, the delicious thrill of flesh-on-flesh was overwhelming; inexperienced Helena had never felt such intimacy. As she lay in his arms, all her defences were down and she found herself telling secrets she had never spoken before. She talked about her loveless marriage and her aching loneliness. William kissed away her tears with such gentleness and understanding, Helena was shaken to the core.
Never able to stay out of trouble for long, William soon found himself ensnared in another intrigue that required delicate handling. Bulkeley was his most trusted confidant in Naples, but when William explained his predicament, the good doctor became highly indignant and refused to help. He insisted that he would not perform an illegal procedure, or act against his own scruples. William had asked the doctor to induce a miscarriage. Mrs Bligh wanted to terminate a pregnancy. As the discussion grew increasingly heated, Bulkeley asked William why he was even involved; surely this was a matter for Captain Bligh? The doctor had, of course, guessed the circumstances but, shifty as ever, William would not give him a straight answer. Persevering, the doctor suggested that Captain Bligh should be warned about the proposed termination of his unborn child. Baulking at the idea, William made it clear that Captain Bligh was not the father of Helena’s child because he ‘was not able to afford her gratifications she desired’.
‘Who is the father?’ asked Bulkeley, but William just shrugged. Speaking with candour, Bulkeley looked William in the eye and said, ‘I heard that you had sexual intercourse with Mrs Bligh on Mount Vesuvius . . . and have boasted of the circumstance.’20
Dodging the issue yet again, William did not deny the accusation, but replied inanely, ‘I hope you would not believe that I am capable of boasting of having had a lady’s favours.’
On hearing this response Bulkeley gave up his questioning, but declined to visit Helena, stating, ‘She is a most dangerous woman for a physician to have anything to do with . . . in advising her I will be treading on a volcano.’
Over the course of the week, William continued to pester Bulkeley, yapping at his heels. Eventually, after much persuasion, the doctor relented. When he visited Mrs Bligh, he found her in a state of great distress and she told him, ‘If you do not give me something to cause a miscarriage, my ruin must be inevitable.’
Bulkeley refused, saying, ‘My business is to preserve life, and not to destroy it.’ When Mrs Bligh persisted, the doctor told her he would speak to Captain Bligh as he had the right to know her intentions towards his unborn child. Helena begged him not to tell her husband, saying that he was incapable of fathering a child. On hearing this yet again, the doctor demanded, ‘Then how has this happened? There is only one Immaculate Conception that I believe in!’
Disgusted by everything he had heard, Bulkeley left Helena in tears, refusing categorically to help her abort the foetus. Outside the house, William was waiting with his carriage and he persuaded the doctor to climb in. Resuming the discussion, he informed the doctor that Mrs Bligh had been trying to induce a miscarriage herself. William said, ‘She has been taking penny-royal tea, and has this day taken a bottle of laudanum as long as my finger.’
Feeling compromised for a number of reasons both professional and personal, Bulkeley reminded him that Mrs Long Wellesley ‘is a most amiable person . . . if this should reach her ears . . . the news would destroy her peace of mind’.
When Bulkeley visited Helena a few days later, she informed him that she had effected a miscarriage and ‘the discharge that was coming from her was abundant and as black as ink’.
Delighted with the outcome and hoping to buy his silence, William showered the good doctor with gifts, sending him expensive cigars, inviting him to his box at the opera and presenting him with a personalized snuffbox. He need not have worried; nobody was going to tell Catherine about his sordid affair. As Bulkeley pointed out, Catherine was ‘a most amiable and excellent person’ – her staff adored her. This included Meara, who felt guilty about aiding and abetting his master by sneaking him out of the house, but he had Catherine’s best interests at heart. Pitman had also heard the rumours and did everything in his power to protect his gentle mistress and the children. Hoping to spare her feelings, everyone worked hard to keep Catherine in the dark. But it was only a matter of time; inevitably, the situation would come to a head.