Tea with a doting mother

Eleanor, the Duchess of Winshire always greeted the Duchess of Kingston with warmth and courtesy. More so than if she had actually liked the woman, for Eleanor held that courtesy and kindness was a duty that one owed to oneself, however unworthy the recipient. 

Today, she was struggling to maintain her facade. “And so you see, duchess,” said the other lady, “that scoundrel has kept my poor daughter-in-law’s baby from her out of sheer spite. My son’s baby, too, as the world knows, though she was born during my daughter-in-law’s unfortunate first marriage. Heaven alone knows how he treats the dear little girl.”

“Very well, or so I understand from Cordelia Deerhaven,” Eleanor replied. “Cordelia says that John Forsythe is besotted with his daughter.”

“But duchess,” Kingston’s duchess complained, “of course, Lady Deerhaven would make that claim. But the little girl is not Forsythe’s so why should he treat her well? And how do we know that he does?”

“I am sure you do not intend to imply that Cordelia lies, duchess,” Eleanor said. Mendacious of her, for she was certain that her guest meant to imply that very thing. “She is, after all, a lady of excellent reputation.” Unlike the other duchess’s daughter-in-law, who had abandoned little Jane years ago to run off with the married lover who had got her with child before she trapped poor John Forsythe into marriage.  whom she had since married. Neither of them had shown any interest in the child until the last few weeks.

“Cordelia and her husband visit Cumbria frequently, and she has mentioned many times over the years how much Captain Forsythe loves Jane. I do not know, duchess, how often you have visited…?” That was even more of a lie. Eleanor knew perfectly well that the Kingstons had never visited; had never even written to enquire about the good health and wellbeing of the little girl who was John Forsythe’s in every way except blood.

The Duchess of Kingston stood, her mouth puckered as if she had sucked on the lemon, and her nose in the air. “I can see you have made up your mind to support that reprobate Forsythe. I see no point in prolonging this conversation. Rest assured that my husband and I will do everything we can to support our son and his wife in his efforts to bring our granddaughter back where she belongs.”

Eleanor stood, as well. “I can assure you, your grace, that even if I was not an intimate friend of the family, I and my family would still be doing everything we can to ensure that a happy little girl is not ripped away from the place where she belongs by people who have not shown any interest in her for her entire life to date. My butler will show you out.”

***

The ton refused to support Lord and Lady Tenby and Tenby’s ducal parents in their demands to have Jane Forsythe handed over. Their legal challenge failed in the courts, for part of the settlement of the divorce Lady Tenby had demanded had been  absolution from any responsibility for or interest in her daughter. The Tenby’s therefore kidnapped the child, inadvertently taking with them Pauline Turner, who loved both the child and John Forsythe.

This story and what happened next is told in Perchance to Dream, out on September 7th.

Ending a marriage in Regency England

In Georgian and Regency England, it was difficult to end a marriage. Basically, the options were an informal separation, a legal separation, or a divorce. In fact, in some ways, it would be fair to say that the three were stages in a process—with the couple probably no longer living together by the time one of them (usually the man) went before the Ecclesiastical Courts for a separation, and a separation being one of the requirements for a divorce.

Annulment is not one of the three for the simple reason that an annulment is a finding that the marriage was void at its beginning; that is, that the marriage ceremony was not valid, and therefore the couple were never married.

Divorce was difficult to obtain, expensive, and seldom allowed the parties to marry again. The first step was to apply to the Ecclesiastical Court. But the Court could only rule that the couple be permitted to separate (a divorce a menso et thoro, a separation from bed and board). They no longer lived together, and the husband was no longer responsible for providing a home for the wife (although he was still responsible for her debts.

A man could be granted such a ruling when adultery was proven against a wife. A woman had to also prove that the adultery was aggravated by life-threatening cruelty, bigamy, or incest.

If she obtained such a ruling, the woman had no right to access to her children.

A husband could also sue his wife’s lover under civil law for ‘wounding another man’s property’ and for depriving him of her services as household manager. Women had no such right.

The next step, if one of the parties wanted to remarry, was to take a private bill to Parliament for ‘relief’. The proceeding were expensive, long, messy, and public. It was very rare for the divorce finding to include a clause that permitted the ‘at fault’ party to remarry.

“Between 1670 and 1857, 379 Parliamentary divorces were requested and 324 were granted. Of those 379 requests, eight were by wives, and only four of those were granted.” (Wright, 2004)

https://jasna.org/publications-2/persuasions-online/vol36no1/bailey/

https://englishhistoryauthors.blogspot.com/2017/01/divorce-regency-style.html