\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n In November 1771, Henry, Duke of Cumberland and Strathearn, handed his brother, George III<\/a>, a note. In it he confessed his marriage to a young widow, Anne Horton (n\u00e9e Luttrell), in a secret ceremony. The horrified king demanded that the couple leave court, declaring that the alliance of prince and commoner \u201cmust inevitably ruin him and distress his relations\u201d.<\/p>\n Within days, gossip columns were awash with tales of the duke being \u201cdesperately in love\u201d. Wedding prints were published in The Lady\u2019s Magazine<\/em>, and letters alleged details of Anne\u2019s disreputable father and \u201ceye-lashes a yard long\u201d. \u201cThe violence of the duke\u2019s attachment to Mrs Horton has ended in a terrible mess,\u201d wrote one gentleman. \u201cWhat an event,\u201d gasped another \u2013 \u201cthe Luttrell Duchess of Cumberland!\u201d<\/p>\n In the second half of the 18th century, matrimony in the fashionable Georgian world was undergoing a sea change. Expectations of love within marriage blossomed, and members of the younger generation of the upper classes were increasingly defying arranged matches. And when legislation passed in 1753 laid out strict requirements for a valid marriage, including parental consent for people under 21, a trend for eloping to Scotland was launched.<\/p>\n For the royal family, an unsuitable match risked damaging foreign alliances and the reputation of the monarchy itself. Cumberland had already proved himself to be a liability: having allegedly married another commoner in secret in 1767, two years later he had been sued for \u2018criminal conversation\u2019 with a baron\u2019s wife. After this latest indiscretion, the king took decisive action.<\/p>\n The Royal Marriages Act of 1772 forbade descendants of George II<\/a> from marrying without the monarch\u2019s permission. (The Duke of Gloucester subsequently admitted sheepishly that he had married an illegitimate commoner in 1766.) Later on, the act caused problems for the king\u2019s son, the future George IV<\/a>, whose clandestine marriage to a Catholic widow in 1785 would be ruled illegitimate. In 2013, the legislation was amended so that only the first six people in the line of succession required the monarch\u2019s permission.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Before the establishment of professional policing, law enforcement relied on a network of local parish constables, watchmen and \u2018thief-takers\u2019, who claimed state rewards for apprehending criminals. In 1756, the arrest of publican and thief-taker Stephen MacDaniel exposed the potential for corruption that skulked at the heart of the 18th-century criminal justice system. Working with accomplices for around six years, MacDaniel regularly brought offenders before London\u2019s magistrates.<\/p>\n But after he brought forward two \u2018thieves\u2019 in 1754, one accomplice exposed their scam: with food, gin and tales of expensive goods, they persuaded \u201cpoor friendless Lads\u201d to take part in or witness the \u2018robbery\u2019 of one of their own men, before another gang member apprehended them. They were then hauled before the courts to face a death sentence.<\/p>\n Following MacDaniel\u2019s trial, along with three others, for perversion of justice in February 1756, it was estimated that they had racked up \u00a31,200 in rewards. The men were sentenced to imprisonment and the pillory, where public rage was so acute that \u201csuch a multitude of people was never known to be assembled on the like occasion\u201d, according to the Public Advertiser<\/em>. Two men died after being beaten in the pillory; MacDaniel and the other died later in Newgate Prison.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n In January 1762, word spread around London that a man had been accused of murder \u2013 with the finger being pointed at him from beyond the grave. Investigating a series of seemingly supernatural knocks only made in the presence of Richard Parsons\u2019 young daughter, Elizabeth, an excited Methodist preacher established communication and ascertained that the \u2018ghost\u2019 was Fanny, the recently deceased mistress of Parsons\u2019 former lodger, William Kent \u2013 who was accused by the phantom of her murder by arsenic poisoning.<\/p>\n Newspapers picked up the story, and the public \u2013 including author Samuel Johnson<\/a> and Prince Edward, Duke of York and Albany \u2013 crowded into the house in Cock Lane for seances. Public opinion was divided: while terrified witnesses insisted that it was \u201cno laughing matter\u201d, The London Magazine<\/em> wrote that anyone who \u201cexercises his rational faculties, unfettered by the chains and shackles of superstition\u201d must recognise this as fraud.<\/p>\n In February the affair descended into revulsion and then dismay as an investigative committee resorted to opening Fanny\u2019s coffin. Meanwhile, Elizabeth was discovered to have made the noises by scratching at bits of wood hidden in her bedsheets \u2013 on the orders of her father, who had sought revenge on Kent over a disputed debt. The hoax uncovered, Kent was cleared of the \u201cwicked and scandalous imputation\u201d, while Parsons was found guilty of conspiracy, and sentenced to imprisonment and the pillory.<\/p>\n The affair of the Cock Lane Ghost energised religious controversy, delivering a public blow to the reputation of the more superstitious Methodism against \u2018rational\u2019 Anglican thought. Along with other impostures \u2013 including the 17th-century Bilston boy who faked demonic possession to avoid school, and the 1720s woman who appeared to give birth to rabbits \u2013 such Georgian ghost hoaxes<\/a> further dented belief in the supernatural in an increasingly scientific world.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n When Augustus Henry Fitzroy, 3rd Duke of Grafton, discreetly separated from his wife, Anne Liddell, in 1764, he was careful to avoid scandal. Unfortunately, this prudence did not extend to his relationship with courtesan Nancy Parsons, who was branded \u201cone of the commonest creatures in London\u201d by gossip Horace Walpole. Living openly with his mistress, Grafton allowed her to preside over his dinner table and paraded her at the opera.<\/p>\n As a promising young politician, this was unwise; after he became prime minister in 1768, it was a gift to his enemies. As bad press and titillating expos\u00e9s proliferated, Grafton came to embody all the out-of-touch vices of the elite, and his fitness for office was questioned. \u201cWhen we see a man act in this manner we may admit the shameless depravity of his heart,\u201d proclaimed one commentator, \u201cbut what are we to think of his understanding?\u201d Grafton was accused of neglecting his country and setting Nancy\u2019s whims over national security. Claiming that the couple had illegally smuggled goods from France, politician John Wilkes even called for their arrest.<\/p>\n When the duchess fell pregnant by her own lover, the Earl of Upper Ossory, a divorce by Act of Parliament was the only option for salvaging their reputations and remarrying. Despite colluding to keep the dirtiest laundry from court, servants\u2019 testimonies of illicit trysts were printed and read voraciously. The divorce was finalised in March 1769, and both remarried within weeks. (Nancy was dropped unceremoniously.)<\/p>\n As the public became increasingly disillusioned with the \u201cFolly and Excess\u201d of those in power, the scandal sparked a series of (unsuccessful) calls for legislation prohibiting adultery. Grafton\u2019s record as the only prime minister to divorce and remarry while in office was broken only with the recent tenure of Boris Johnson.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n In the autumn of 1720, London was in shock and desolation. Following a summer of unparalleled investment mania, the implosion of stocks in the South Sea Company had bankrupted thousands and brought the economy to its knees. \u201cThe vast inundation of the S. Sea has drowned all,\u201d regretted poet Alexander Pope, \u201cexcept a few unrighteous men\u201d who had grown \u201cricher for the calamities of others\u201d.<\/p>\n In 1713, the company had been licensed to conduct the slave trade with Spanish America, and huge profits were promised. When those failed to materialise, the company directors dabbled in illicit trading, and evaded providing accounts. In 1720, the government became further entangled when the company secured an agreement to refinance the national debt. Hopes were raised of expanding trade and increasing the value of shares; a propaganda campaign plugged the actual short fall and boosted public confidence, while new money was paid out to older investors \u2013 a ponzi scheme.<\/p>\n Many people bought shares on credit in hopes of huge profits from selling them in future. Share prices surged to over \u00a31,000 in August, then \u2013 as people sought to realise their profits, and no income from the company materialised \u2013 plummeted, falling to \u00a3124 in December. Amid this \u201cgeneral calamity\u201d, fortunes disappeared and suicide rates soared. The company\u2019s chief cashier fled with a ledger of incriminating evidence. Along with concurrent financial bubbles in France and the Dutch Republic, the fraud contributed to the first international stock market crash.<\/p>\n Amid intense popular backlash, the scheme was lambasted in newspapers and prints. Outrage was directed, of course, at greedy speculators; there was little sympathy for African lives stolen and lost. The estates of company directors were confiscated to alleviate the national debt, and John Aislabie \u2013 the unrepentant chancellor of the Exchequer, who had made a fortune \u2013 was imprisoned. The newly appointed chancellor, Robert Walpole<\/a>, introduced emergency measures to shore up Britain\u2019s economy, ultimately emerging as the nation\u2019s first \u2018prime minister\u2019.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The unconventional courtship between renowned singer Elizabeth Linley and aspiring young writer Richard Brinsley Sheridan began with a clandestine flight to France in March 1772. That alone would spark sensation enough, but Sheridan\u2019s note explaining that he was acting to protect Elizabeth from the unwanted advances of married military officer Thomas Mathews embroiled all three in a very public affair of honour. Retaliating with an advert in the Bath Chronicle<\/em>, Mathews branded Sheridan a \u201cLiar and treacherous Scoundrel\u201d; feeling bound by \u201cthe laws of honour\u201d, the defamed Sheridan challenged him to a duel.<\/p>\n Duelling was a murky business. Despite being a popularly accepted means for an upper-class gentleman to defend his reputation \u2013 or that of a lady \u2013 he might yet be charged with manslaughter or murder. Over the Georgian era, hundreds of such combats with sword or pistol were recorded in England (the true number can never be known), provoked by slights ranging from accusations of military cowardice to writing unchivalrous poetry about a lady.<\/p>\n When Sheridan and Mathews clashed swords in a London tavern in May 1772, the latter was quickly disarmed and forced to apologise. Unable to bear the humiliation \u2013 Sheridan jubilantly set about spreading the story \u2013 Mathews issued another challenge. The even messier second duel, fought near Bath in July, was derided in the press as \u201can unmanly combat\u201d. According to one letter, after both men\u2019s swords shattered, \u201cthey threw each other down, and with the broken Pieces hacked at each other rolling upon the Ground\u201d.<\/p>\n Mathews fled, leaving his opponent with apparently fatal wounds. Recovering, Sheridan and Elizabeth were legally married, albeit in the face of reluctance from both families. Enacted and reported in mortifying detail by the newspapers, the affair was later immortalised in poetry, ballads and even in Sheridan\u2019s own plays.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n While sex scandals were very much grist to the 18th-century gossip mill, the disgrace of wealthy 24-year-old writer and MP William Beckford in autumn 1784 stood apart. He had been discovered in flagrante with 16-year-old William Courtenay, heir to Powderham Castle in Devon, after the boy\u2019s tutor peered through a bedroom keyhole. Even worse came when information from their letters, intercepted by Courtenay\u2019s uncle, was leaked to the press.<\/p>\n To modern eyes, the most troubling aspect would be the age difference: though it\u2019s uncertain when the relationship began, Courtenay was just 11 when the two met. For Georgian society, the charge of homosexuality caused more consternation. Sodomy was illegal \u2013 a capital offence, in fact. Though same-sex relationships are well attested in records of the time, exposure could mean imprisonment or execution. Long-standing rumours about Beckford\u2019s sexuality had been quelled by his marriage in 1783. But the new revelations, spread by newspapers, letters and tea-table chatter, derailed both of the men\u2019s lives.<\/p>\n Beckford\u2019s expected peerage evaporated, and he lamented that Courtenay, \u201cpoor wretch\u2026 is mangled, bruised and smashed every day\u201d. The Morning Herald<\/em> wrote scornfully of \u201ca Grammatical mistake of Mr. B and the Hon. Mr. C, in regard to the genders\u201d, sinking them \u201cbelow the lowest class of brutes\u201d. Lady Milbanke \u2013 later embroiled in similar scandal as the mother-in-law of Lord Byron<\/a> \u2013 scoffed: \u201cWhat an infamous wretch is Beckford! & what a disgrace to the Age that he should be suffered to walk about!\u201d<\/p>\n Ignoring his mother\u2019s recommendation to dispel suspicion by gathering \u201chalf a dozen women about him\u201d in Covent Garden, Beckford escaped social censure and potential arrest with a self-imposed exile in Europe until 1796, living reclusively thereafter. Courtenay continued to be \u201creviled and insulted\u201d by neighbours decades later, eventually emigrating to America in 1811. The death penalty for homosexual sex was abolished in 1861, 17 years after Beckford\u2019s death. It was not decriminalised until 1967.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n In August 1820, the sensational trial of Queen Caroline<\/a>, estranged wife of newly minted George IV, dominated the news. After 25 years of unhappy marriage \u2013 15 of which had been blighted by very public mud-slinging about promiscuity and infidelities on both sides \u2013 she stood formally accused of adultery. A bill was proposed to dissolve their marriage and deprive her of the rank of queen; a guilty verdict on this charge from the Houses of Parliament would allow the king to discard her once and for all.<\/p>\n Unfortunately for the unpopular George, the story snowballed into much more than just another salacious royal dispute, as the \u2018persecution\u2019 of his wife was condemned in the press and lampooned in satirical prints. Fervent support for Caroline sprang up among all classes. According to radical journalist William Cobbett, the affair \u201clet loose for a time every tongue and pen in England\u201d.<\/p>\nThe king\u2019s brother weds a widowed commoner<\/h3>\n<\/div>\n
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![\"Henry,](\"https:\/\/images.immediate.co.uk\/production\/volatile\/sites\/7\/2023\/08\/BAL3962648-f9bad29.jpg?quality=90&resize=620%2C413\" "\\"Henry,")
\n<\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/picture>\n<\/div>The trial of the swindling \u2018thief takers\u2019<\/h3>\n<\/div>\n
Murder and the Cock Lane Ghost<\/h3>\n<\/div>\n
Word spread around London that a man had been accused of murder \u2013 with the finger being pointed at him from beyond the grave <\/blockquote> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n<\/div>
The prime minister parades his mistress, then divorces his wife<\/h3>\n<\/div>\n
![\"A](\"https:\/\/images.immediate.co.uk\/production\/volatile\/sites\/7\/2023\/08\/s3eu-west-1dlcs-storage28V0039072-ec69693.jpg?quality=90&resize=620%2C413\" "\\"A")
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The South Sea Bubble<\/a> pushes Britain to bankruptcy<\/h3>\n<\/div>\n
In 1713, the company had been licensed to conduct the slave trade with Spanish America, and huge profits were promised. When those failed to materialise, the company directors dabbled in illicit trading, and evaded providing accounts <\/blockquote> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n<\/div>
A love triangle and shambolic duels<\/h3>\n<\/div>\n
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From ambitious MP to \u201ca disgrace to the age\u201d<\/h3>\n<\/div>\n
For Georgian society, the charge of homosexuality caused more consternation. Sodomy was illegal \u2013 a capital offence, in fact… Long-standing rumours about Beckford\u2019s sexuality had been quelled by his marriage in 1783 <\/blockquote> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n<\/div>
George IV brands his queen a cheat \u2013 hypocritically<\/h3>\n<\/div>\n
![\"A](\"https:\/\/images.immediate.co.uk\/production\/volatile\/sites\/7\/2023\/08\/1056618001-7899084.jpg?quality=90&resize=620%2C413\" "\\"A")
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