Indiscretions of the Queen

On Trial

THE King was determined that no time should be wasted. On the very day Caroline had set foot on English soil Liverpool in the House of Lords and Castlereagh in the Commons read a message from the King.

This stated that His Majesty thought it necessary to give to the House of Lords certain documents concerning the conduct of the Queen. This was a painful thing to do but the conduct of the Queen gave him no alternative.

Brougham who was present in the Commons when the message was read lost no time in seeing Caroline and compiling an answer in which she stated that she had been induced to return to England to clear her name for she was aware of the calumnies which had been invented against her. Her name had been omitted from the Liturgy; she had been denied a royal residence; she had been insulted at home and abroad. Efforts had been made to prejudice the world against her and she had been judged without trial. Only trial and conviction could justify what had been done to her.

Liverpool and members of the Government were disturbed by her attitude.

They could see that a trial could bring the Monarchy into disrepute. The King’s private life had been far from moral and it was not so long ago that across the Channel the people had risen in their wrath and annihilated the Monarchy.

Liverpool suggested a compromise. The £50,000 a year, a royal ship for travelling abroad and the honours due to the Queen of England should be accorded her.

This Caroline scornfully refused: There was nothing to be done but go ahead and on the 5th July— only some few weeks after Caroline had set foot on English soil— Lord Liverpool introduced a Bill to be read. This was known as the Bill of Pains and Penalties. Its object was: To deprive Her Majesty Caroline Amelia Elizabeth of the Title, Prerogatives, Rights, Privileges and Exemptions of Queen-Consort of the Realm and to dissolve the marriage between His Majesty and the said Caroline Amelia Elizabeth The Bill set out that Caroline had engaged Bartolomeo Pergami to serve in her household and that a disgraceful intimacy had sprung up between the Queen and Pergami. This licentious relationship had brought disgrace on the King and the royal family. Therefore it seemed right and proper that the Queen should be robbed of her privileges and the King granted an annulment of his marriage.

Under the guidance of Brougham, Caroline likened herself to Catharine of Aragon and demanded a fair trial.

The people of London were intensely interested. In the streets they talked of nothing else. The King’s great unpopularity meant that they were all on the side of the Queen. Caroline only had to appear for the crowd to sing her praises and cheer her.

The King’s carriage was pelted with mud. They saw him as a wicked old lecher. He could be as promiscuous as he liked but they would not accept his cruelty to his wife.

It was exciting. Nothing like this had happened for a long time. The funerals had been depressing occasions; but this was amusing. They had someone whom they could champion; they had someone whom they could hate; and they did so with enthusiasm.

Mobs went about crying Caroline forever. They stopped carriages and demanded: ‘Are you for the Queen?’

They even stopped that of the great Duke of Wellington such a short time before, the hero of the crowd.

‘Declare for the Queen!’ they cried. ‘Declare for the Queen!’

The Duke was furious that he, the great Wellington, should be drawn into this undignified squabble. The hero of Waterloo to be forced to declare for a woman like the Queen. But the mob was ugly. They carried brooms and pickaxes, and who could say that there was not a gun or two among them?

‘All right,’ cried the great soldier. ‘The Queen— damn you all. The Queen!

And may you all have wives like her.’

That made the crowd laugh. Trust Wellington to give as good as he got. A laugh went up. A cheer went up. He had after all saved them from Old Boney.

And the day of the trial approached and the excitement was intense.

Everyone was asking what the outcome would be.

Caroline left Brandenburg House, where she had taken up residence, for the court. She was dressed dramatically for the occasion in a dress of black figured gauze with enormous white Bishop’s sleeves decorated with lace. A heavy lace veil was swathed about her head and beneath this were seen the curls of her wig.

She was heavily painted and leaded. She looked, remarked one observer, like a toy which was called a Fanny Royd— a product of Holland with a heavy round bottom so that in whatever position it was placed it jumped upright. She came rushing into the House in a most ungraceful fashion and made a bob at the throne before seating herself, short legs apart, her dress falling in an ungainly manner over her chair.

Sir Robert Gifford, the Attorney General, presented the case for the Crown with the Solicitor General Sir John Copley. The Queen’s leading counsel were Brougham and Denman who were the opposite numbers of Gifford and Copley.

General opinion was that the Queen had the better men on her side.

The first two days of the trial were devoted to legal arguments and then the first witnesses were called.

This was disastrous for the Queen because to her amazement the first witness for the prosecution was Theodore Majocchi, one whom she had always regarded as her faithful servant. The knowledge that he had come to give evidence against her made her cry out somewhat incoherently. Some people said she denounced him as a traitor and what she said was ‘Traditore’. Others that it was his name that she spoke. But in any case she was so overcome emotionally that in her usual impetuous manner she rose and left the court.

There was a gasp of astonishment. How guilty was this woman who was afraid of a servant’s evidence!

It was easy to see why she was afraid as the court listened to Majocchi in the hands of his interrogators. He began by explaining the position of the Queen’s and Pergami’s bedrooms in Tunis. They had been separated only by a small chamber. He gave the impression that there could be no doubt of the liaison between the Queen and Pergami. Her maid Louise Demont was called— she who had served the Queen well and had kept a diary of her travels in the East and written only praise of Caroline in that diary. But having lived close to the Queen she was recognized as an ideal witness against her if she could be persuaded to give the damning evidence that was required of her. Temptation was too much for Louise and she agreed to become a witness for the Crown. So with the evidence of Majocchi and Louise Demont, the case looked very black against Caroline.

But it was a situation which Brougham and Denman found stimulating. As they sifted the evidence they began to believe that the Queen was innocent of all but an indiscretion so great that it was the utmost folly. But innocent she was of that which the Crown was trying to prove. And with innocence and Brougham, thought that gentleman, she must win.

It was easy to deal with Majocchi for the man was clearly lying. Captain Hownam was called to prove that the, Queen’s and Pergami’s bedrooms in Tunis had not been on the same floor. Majocchi had stated that the Queen dined in her bedroom with Peragami who sat on her bed while they ate together. Captain Hownam assured the Court that this was absolutely untrue. The whole suite had always dined together.

So under fire Majocchi withered. He took refuge in the phrase, ‘I don’t remember’— Non mi ricordo. The people who followed the trial day by day were immensely amused by this witness and a song was soon being sung in the streets:

‘To England I was trudged.

Nor cost me a single farden

And was safely lodged

In a place called Covent Garden

There I eat and drink

Of the best they can afford

Get plenty of the chink

To say Non mi ricordo .

‘To the House so large I went

Which put me in a stew

To tell a tale I was bent

Of which I nothing knew.

There was a man stood there

My precious brains he bored

To which I wouldn’t swear

I said Non mi ricordo.

There were many verses and these were added to hour by hour. People were singing them everywhere.

‘Their witness,’ said Brougham chuckling, ‘is our witness.’

It was the same with Louise Demont. How easily the liars could be discredited in the hands of men like Brougham and Denman.

There were other Italian witnesses, all eager to earn their money and testify against the Queen. There was a certain Raggazoni who admitted that he had seen indecent conduct between the Queen and Pergami. This had caused some concern to Brougham until Hownam was able to tell the court that it was impossible for the man to have seen this from the place in which he described himself to be.

Another witness, Sacchi, said that on a journey from Rome to Sinigaglia the Queen had insisted that she and Pergami travel in a coach and that he. was riding beside the coach in attendance when he saw an act of misconduct. There were other witnesses to prove that the Countess Oldi had travelled in the coach with them and that Sacchi had also ridden in a coach and not on horseback.

Rastelli, another bribed witness, had further stories to tell. These Brougham was not able to refute at the time but he had hopes of doing so.

He called on the Countess Oldi who had come to England with Caroline and knowing her devotion to the Queen— and moreover she was the sister of Pergami — he thought she would be a good witness.

She was distressed because of the cruel things which were being said about the Queen.

‘So untrue,’ she cried. ‘So untrue.’

It was clear that she had a great affection for Caroline.

Should he call her? She was a foreigner, and it would be good to have an Italian who had a good word to say for the Queen. But she was Pergami’s sister— what effect would that have?

‘Of course,’ said Brougham, ‘people did go in and out of the Queen’s bedroom.’

‘Never at any time,’ declared the Countess.

‘I thought the manners of the country might make this permissible.’

‘Never on any occasion.’

‘But it has been proved that people did wander in and out of Her Majesty’s bedroom rather freely.’

‘Never at any time.’

She had learned her phrase, he realized; and she was going to stick to it, having decided that only by denying everything could she serve the Queen.

Brougham imagined her in the hands of the Crown.

She would do as much harm to his cause as Majocchi had done to the other side.

He decided not to call her.

His great opportunity came when he proposed to recall the man Rastelli and heard that the Crown had sent him back to Italy.

What a sensation when the cry went up ‘Call Rastelli’ and the Crown had to admit that he had returned to Italy.

Brougham was a man to make the most of his opportunities. He wondered why the man had been sent back. He had questions to ask him which he very much doubted the fellow would be able to answer to the satisfaction of the court.

Was it not strange that he should have been sent away at such a time?

It was indeed strange, Lord Liverpool admitted. It was highly culpable; it was iniquitous.

From that moment Brougham knew he had won his case.

Denman summed up the case for the Queen brilliantly until he came to the end of his speech.

‘I know that rumours are abroad of the most vague but at the same time of the most injurious character. I have heard them even as we are defending Her Majesty against charges which compared with these rumours are clear, comprehensible and tangible— There are persons and these not of the lowest condition, nor confined to individuals connected with the public press— not even excluded from this august assembly— who are industriously circulating the most odious and atrocious calumnies against Her Majesty— To a man who could even be suspected of so base a practice as whispering calumnies to judges— distilling leprous venom into the cars of jurors— the Queen might well exclaim: Come forward, thou slanderer and let me see thy face. If thou wouldst equate the respectability of an Italian witness come forth and depose in open court—’ Denman gazed contemptuously at the King’s supporters. ‘ As thou art, thou art worse than an Italian assassin. ‘

He went on declaiming the injuries the Queen had suffered and he had the sympathy of the court for he spoke with touching eloquence; but unfortunately as he neared the end of his speech he gave his listeners the opportunity to ridicule and this they seized eagerly.

He who the sword of Heaven will bearShould be as holy as severe. ‘And if your lordships have been furnished with powers which I might almost say scarcely omniscience itself possesses, to arrive at the secrets of this female, you will think that it is your duty to imitate the justice, beneficence and wisdom of that benignant Being who, not in a case like this when innocence is manifest but when guilt was detected and vice revealed said: If no accuser can come forward to condemn thee, neither do I condemn thee. Go and sin no more.’

It was a brilliant speech; no case had been proved against Caroline but Denman could not have chosen a peroratio which would have so delighted the people.

There was a new song now to replace that of Non mi ricordo. It was: Gracious Queen, we thee implore, Go away and sin no more. But if that effort be too great, Go away— at any rate. Poor Denman was furious with himself. But Brougham was not displeased.

He knew that they had won.

There was still the Bill of Pains and Penalties. It passed through the House of Lords with a majority of twenty-eight.

If, reasoned Brougham, that Bill was passed in spite of the fact that the Queen could not be proved guilty of adultery, the first part of the Bill to exclude the Queen from her rights might still be put into force.

He called on Lord Liverpool.

‘If this Bill is passed,’ he said, ‘this will not be the end. We have had an enquiry into the Queen’s private life, what if there is an enquiry into the King’s?’

‘He has had his mistresses as most Kings have,’ began Liverpool.

‘This is not so much a matter of mistresses as of wives. There is a strong suspicion that as Heir Apparent, the King went through a form of marriage with Maria Fitzherbert, and in the Act of Succession since the lady is a Catholic, this could mean losing the Crown.’

Liverpool understood. The Bill must not be passed.

On its next reading, it received only a majority of nine in the Lords ‘This is the end of the Bill,’ said Brougham to Denman. ‘We’ve won, man.

They’ll never attempt to pass it through the Commons.’

He was right. Lord Liverpool withdrew his Bill. The Queen was acquitted.

Through the cheering crowds, she drove to Brandenburg House.