Another witness, Bidgood, who, after being in the service of the Prince of Wales near a quarter of a century, was transferred to that of the Princess in 1798, went further than his predecessors. The least offensive part of his deposition was that in which he swore that he had seen Captain Manby kiss the Princess, who was in tears at his leaving. This witness spoke to alleged facts equally startling respecting her Royal Highness and Captain Hood. The depositions of the female servants were even more strong in their coarseness and weight of testimony against the Princess. All these persons, it must be remembered, were appointed to serve her, she herself having had no voice in the selection. When they became witnesses against her she was not allowed to know the nature of their evidence.
It was in consequence of their allegations having been submitted to his Majesty that the King issued his warrant in May 1806 to Lords Erskine, Grenville, Spencer, and Ellenborough, whereby they were directed to inquire into the truth or falsehood of these allegations and report accordingly.
The witnesses were all examined on oath; and it is due to Sir John Douglas to say that he seemed to wish to make of his evidence a simple account of hearsay communications from his wife. He knew nothing of what had taken place between his wife and the Princess but what the former had told him of long after the period of its occurrence. He swore, however, to having been convinced that the Princess was about to become a mother. The depositions of most of these witnesses varied considerably from those previously made by them, and fresh witnesses, called to prove the case against the Princess, did more harm than good to their own side. Others, who were servants of the Princess, distinctly denied that the allegations made against her were true. The proof that young Austin was simply an adopted child was complete. The commissioners were unanimous on this point, and therewith was established the falsehood of the depositions made by the Douglases with respect to it. The commissioners, however, did not feel so certain upon the other items of evidence; and they gave it as their opinion, not that the Princess should be held innocent until she could be proved guilty, but that the allegations should be credited until they could be satisfactorily disproved!
Never was accused woman more hardly used than the Princess in this matter. For a long time she knew nothing of the nature of the evidence tendered against her, and every obstacle was put in her way to rendering the satisfactory answer, wanting which the commissioners, though they acquitted her of high treason, thought she must be held quasi convicted of immorality. She was equal, however, to every difficulty, and she did not lack assistance. Mr. Perceval wrote, in her name, a memorial to the King, which is a masterpiece of ability, so searchingly does it sift the evidence, crush what was unfavourable to her, point out where she had a triumph, even without a witness, indignantly deny the charges laid against her, and which she had not hitherto been permitted to disprove, and touchingly appeal to her only protector, the King himself, for a continuance of his favour to one not unworthy of that for which she so ardently petitions. The memorial would almost occupy this volume entirely; it is only possible, therefore, thus to describe and refer to it. A passage or two from the conclusion will give, however, some idea of its spirit:—
‘In happier days of my life, before my spirit had been yet at all lowered by my misfortunes, I should have been disposed to have met such a charge with the contempt which, I trust by this time, your Majesty thinks due to it. I should have been disposed to have defied my enemies to the utmost, and to have scorned to answer to anything but a legal charge before a competent tribunal. But in my present misfortunes such force of mind is gone. I ought, perhaps, so far to be thankful to them for their wholesome lessons of humility. I have therefore entered into this long detail to endeavour to remove at the first possible opportunity any unfavourable impressions, to rescue myself from the dangers which the continuance of these suspicions might occasion, and to preserve to me your Majesty’s good opinion, in whose kindness, hitherto, I have found infinite consolation, and to whose justice, under all circumstances, I can confidently appeal.’
The memorial, however, would have been of very little worth but for the depositions by which it was accompanied. These were sworn to, not by discarded servants, but by men of character—men, that is, of reputation. Thus Captain Manby, on oath, replies to the allegation of Bidgood that he had seen the Captain kiss the Princess of Wales:—‘It is a vile and wicked invention, wholly and absolutely false; it is impossible that he could ever have seen any such thing, as I never upon any occasion, or in any situation, had the presumption to salute her Royal Highness in any such manner, or to take any such liberty as to offer any such insult to her person.’ To Bidgood’s allegation that the Captain’s frequent sleeping in the house was a subject of constant conversation with the servants, Captain Manby again declares upon oath that he never in his life slept in any house anywhere that had ever been occupied by her Royal Highness. ‘Never,’ he adds, ‘did anything pass between her Royal Highness and myself that I should be in any degree unwilling that all the world should have seen.’
This was conclusive; the deposition of Lawrence, the great artist, was not less crushing. In answer to a strongly-worded deposition of Cole, the page, Lawrence declares on oath that during the time he was painting the portrait of the Princess at Montague House he never was alone with her but upon one occasion, and then simply to answer a question put to him at a moment he was about to retire with the rest of the company. Like Captain Manby, he solemnly swears that nothing ever passed between her Royal Highness and himself which he would have the least objection that all the world should see and hear.
One of the female servants had accused Mr. Edmondes, the surgeon to her Royal Highness’s household, of having acknowledged circumstances touching the Princess which, if true, would have proved her to have been the very basest of women. Mr. Edmondes was said to have made this statement to a menial servant, after having bled her Royal Highness. That gentleman, however, denied on oath that he had ever made such a statement as the one in question; and perhaps the animus of the inquisitors was betrayed, on the reiterated denial of Mr. Edmondes, by a remark to him of Lord Moira. ‘Lord Moira,’ says the surgeon, ‘with his hands behind him, his head over his shoulder, his eye directed towards me, with a sort of smile, observed, “that he could not help thinking there must be something in the servant’s deposition,” as if he did not give perfect credence to what I said.’
Mr. Mills, another medical man attached to the Princess’s household, and also accused by a female servant of having intimated, in 1802, that her Royal Highness was in a fair way of becoming a mother, proved that he had not been in the house since 1801, and declared the accusation to be a most infamous falsehood. Finally, two of the menservants at Montague House swore to having seen Lady Douglas and Bidgood in communication with each other, that is, meeting and conversing together—a short time previous to the commission of inquiry being opened.
With respect to the alleged familiarities said to have taken place between the Princess and Sir Sidney Smith, the Princess herself remarks upon them, in the memorial addressed by her to the King, to the effect that ‘if his visiting frequently at Montague House, both with Sir John and Lady Douglas, and without them; at luncheon, dinner, and supper; and staying with the rest of the company till twelve or one o’clock, or even later; if these were some of the facts which must give occasion to unfavourable interpretations, they were facts which she could never contradict, for they were perfectly true.’ She further admits that Sir Sidney had paid her morning visits, and that they had frequently on such occasions been alone. ‘But,’ said the memorial, ‘if suffering a man to be so alone is evidence of guilt from whence the commissioners can draw any unfavourable inference, I must leave them to draw it, for I cannot deny that it has happened frequently, not only with Sir Sidney Smith, but with many others—gentlemen who have visited me—tradesmen who have come for orders—masters whom I have had to instruct me in painting, music, and English—that I have received them without any one being by. I never had any idea that it was wrong thus to receive men of a morning. There can have been nothing immoral in the thing itself, and I have understood that it was quite usual for ladies of rank and character to receive the visits of gentlemen in the morning, though they might be themselves alone at the time. But if this is thought improper in England, I hope every candid mind will make allowance for the different notions which my foreign education and habits may have given me.’