Miss Chudleigh had an aunt, whose name was Hanmer: at her house the Hon. Mr. Hervey, son of the Earl of Bristol, and a captain in the royal navy, was a visitor. To this gentleman Mrs. Hanmer became so exceedingly partial, that she favoured views which he entertained towards her niece, and engaged her efforts to effect, if possible, a matrimonial connexion. There were two difficulties which would have been insurmountable, had they not been opposed by the fertile genius of a female—Miss Chudleigh disliked Captain Hervey, and she was betrothed to the Duke of Hamilton.
No exertions which could possibly be made were spared to render this latter alliance nugatory; and the wits of this woman were exerted to the utmost to favour the object which she had in view. The letters of his grace were intercepted by Mrs. Hanmer; and his supposed silence giving offence to her niece, she worked so successfully on her pride as to induce her to abandon all thoughts of her lover, whose passion she had cherished with delight. A conduct the reverse of that imputed to the duke was observed by Captain Hervey: he was all that assiduity could dictate or attention perform. He had daily access to Miss Chudleigh; and each interview was artfully improved by the aunt to the promotion of her own views. The letters of his grace of Hamilton, which regularly arrived, were as regularly suppressed; until, piqued beyond endurance, Miss Chudleigh was prevailed on to accept the hand of Captain Hervey, and by a private marriage, to ensure the participation of his future honours and fortune. The ceremony was performed in a private chapel adjoining the country mansion of Mr. Merrill, at Lainston, near Winchester, in Hampshire.
On a review of life, the predominant evil experienced may be easily traced by every reflecting mind to some wilful error or injudicious mistake, operating as a determinate cause, and giving the colour to our fate. This was the case with Miss Chudleigh; and the hour at which she became united with Captain Hervey proved to her the origin of every subsequent unhappiness. The connubial rites were attended with unhappy consequences; and from the night following the day on which the marriage was solemnized, Miss Chudleigh resolved never to have any further connexion with her husband. To prevail on him not to claim her as his wife required all the art of which she was mistress; and the best dissuasive was the loss of her situation as maid of honour, should the marriage become publicly known. The circumstances of Captain Hervey were not in a flourishing condition, and were ill calculated to enable him to ride with a high hand over his wife; and the fear of the loss of the emoluments of her office operated most powerfully with him to induce him to obey the injunctions which she imposed upon him in this respect. His conduct even now, however, exhibited a strong desire to act with a degree of harshness most unusual so soon after the performance of the marriage ceremony; and the consequence was that any feelings of respect which his wife may have fancied she entertained for him were soon dispelled. Her own expression subsequently was that “her misery commenced with the arrival of Captain Hervey in England; and the greatest joy she experienced was on the intelligence of his departure.” Her marriage being unknown to mere outward observers, Miss Chudleigh, or Mrs. Hervey, a maid in appearance—a wife in disguise—would have been supposed to be placed in a most enviable condition. The attractive centre of the circle in which she moved, the invigorating spirit of the life of the society formed around her, she was universally admired. Her royal mistress smiled upon her; the friendship of many was at her call; the admiration of none could be withheld from her: but amidst all her conquests and all her fancied happiness she wanted that peace of mind which was so necessary to support her against the conflicts which arose in her own breast. Nor was her own heart, that inward monitor, the only source of her trouble. Her husband, quieted for a time, grew obstreperous as he saw the jewel admired by all, which was, he felt, entitled only to his love; and feeling that he possessed the right to her entire consideration, he resolved to assert its power. In the mean time every art which she possessed had been put into operation to soothe him to continued silence; but her further endeavours being unsuccessful, she was compelled to grant his request, and to attend an interview which he appointed, at his own house, and to which he enforced obedience by threatening an instant and full disclosure in case of her non-compliance. The meeting was strictly private, all persons being sent from the house with the exception of a black servant; and on Mrs. Hervey’s entrance to the apartment in which her husband was seated, his first care was to prevent all intrusion by locking the door. This meeting, like all others between her and her husband, was unfortunate in its effects: the fruit of it was the birth of a boy, whose existence it will be readily supposed she had much difficulty in concealing. Her removal to Brompton for a change of air became requisite during the term of her confinement; and she returned to Leicester-house, perfectly recovered from her indisposition; but the infant soon sinking in the arms of death, left only the tale of its existence to be related.
In the mean time, the sum of her unhappiness had been completed by the return of the Duke of Hamilton. His grace had no sooner arrived in England, than he hastened to pay his adoration at the feet of his idol, and to learn the cause of her silence, when his letters had been regularly despatched to her. An interview which took place soon set the character of Mrs. Hanmer in its true light; but while Miss Chudleigh was convinced of the imposition which had been practised upon her, she was unable to accept the proffered hand of her illustrious suitor, or to explain the reason for her apparently ungracious rejection of his addresses. The duke, flighty as he was in other respects, in his love for Miss Chudleigh had at least been sincere; and this strange conduct on the part of his betrothed, followed as it was by a request on her part that he would not again intrude his visits upon her, raised emotions in his mind which can hardly be described. The rejection of his grace was followed by that of several other persons of distinction; and the mother of Miss Chudleigh, who was quite unaware of her private marriage with Captain Hervey, could not conceal her regret and anger at the supposed folly of her daughter.
It was impossible that these circumstances could long remain concealed from the society in which Miss Chudleigh moved; and, in order to relieve herself from the embarrassments by which she was surrounded, she determined to travel on the Continent—trusting that time would eradicate the impression of her fickleness which she left behind her, and that change of scene would remove the pain which every day spent in the theatre of her former operations could not fail to sink deeper into her heart. Germany was the place selected by her for her travels; and she, in turn, visited the chief cities of its principalities. Possessed as she was of introductions of the highest class, she was gratified by obtaining the acquaintance of many crowned heads. Frederic of Prussia conversed and corresponded with her. In the Electress of Saxony she found a friend whose affection for her continued to the latest period of life. The electress was a woman of sense, honour, virtue, and religion; and her letters were replete with kindness. While her hand distributed presents to Miss Chudleigh out of the treasury of abundance, her heart was interested for her happiness. This she afterwards evinced during her prosecution; for at that time a letter from the electress contained the following passage:—“You have long experienced my love; my revenue, my protection, my everything, you may command. Come then, my dear life, to an asylum of peace. Quit a country where, if you are bequeathed a cloak, some pretender may start up, and ruin you by law to prove it not your property. Let me have you at Dresden.”
On her return from the Continent Miss Chudleigh ran over the career of pleasure, enlivened the court circles, and each year became more ingratiated with the mistress whom she served. She was the leader of fashion, played whist with Lord Chesterfield, and revelled with Lady Harrington and Miss Ashe. She was a constant visitant at all public places, and in 1742 appeared at a masked ball in the character of Iphigenia.
Reflection, however, put off for the day, too frequently intruded an unwelcome visit at night. Captain Hervey, like a perturbed spirit, was eternally crossing the path trodden by his wife. If in the rooms at Bath, he was sure to be there. At a rout, ridotto, or ball, this destroyer of her peace embittered every pleasure, and even menaced her with an intimation that he would disclose the marriage to the princess.