Noble Blood - Lady Seymour Worsley's Worth

Episode Date: February 28, 2023

*Note: this episode contains sexual situations.* Lady Seymour Fleming's husband was suing her lover into destitution. She would rather destroy herself than let her husband win. Support Noble Blood:  — Bonus episodes, stickers, and scripts on Patreon — Merch! — Order Dana's book, 'Anatomy: A Love Story'  and its sequel 'Immortality: A Love Story'See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an I-heart podcast. Guaranteed Human. What's up, everyone? I'm Ago Vodam. My next guest, it's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. He goes, just give it a shot.

But if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, The cat, just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck.

Listen to Thanks Dad on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of IHeart Radio and grim and mild from Aaron Manky. Listener discretion advised. Just about halfway between Edinburgh and London, on the outskirts of the northern English city of Leeds, sit an adilic palladian country manner known as Harewood House. Although, I will say, between the magnificently kept gardens and freshly manicured lawns, decorating the thousand-acre estate, the word house is really too modest a word to describe the Downton Abbey fantasy fever dream the property more closely resembles, especially,

considering Downton Abbey actually used Harewood House as a location to film the latest installment in their franchise. But should you decide to visit, if you venture beyond the estate's front doors and into one of the many drawing rooms, you might encounter a portrait whose subject doesn't quite align with the fairy tale romance aesthetic of the place. At first glance, maybe nothing about the painting or the woman it depicts is notably out of the ordinary. If anything, the eye might be first drawn toward what the woman is wearing. Juxtaposed against a backdrop of muted brown foliage, the woman in the portrait, Lady Worsley, faces the viewer wearing a striking vermilion red riding habit and satin-white kitten heels.

She stands with her right foot peeking forward, her left hand perched on her hip in a gesture that feels intentional, powerful even. This is not a woman wearing bright red who shrinks into the background, especially not if the writing crop in her right hand has anything to say about it. The lapels and sleeve cuffs of her jacket are lined with a deep navy trim. and white button detailing, akin to an 18th century British military uniform. It's an artistic choice which may on its own seem peculiar, but only until the viewer understands that this portrait is one in a set of two. There is a matching portrait of the woman's husband, Sir Richard Worsley, in a similar red British military uniform,

but anyone coming to Harewood House in hopes of comparing the two paintings side by side will be sorely disappointed. In fact, the two paintings have not been in the same room in well over 200 years, mirroring the dismal relationship of their real-life counterparts. In truth, the primary reason anyone these days really remembers the woman in the portrait, is because she was the subject of one of the most infamous sex scandals of the 18th century. The papers would accuse Lady Worsley of having sexual relations with upwards of 27 men. But it wasn't the men who caused the scandal so much as it was who had asked them to appear in court to testify in the first place.

On this podcast, it's a rare day that I get to tell a story before the 20th century, or frankly even after it, in which a woman has any sort of control over her own life. It's hard for women to hold any power in a society that essentially considered them property. But in the case of Lady Worsley, when her husband chose to sue her lover, to attempt to bankrupt him, her husband could never have imagined that his wife would choose to rather orchestrate her own social ruin than watch him take even one more piece of happiness away from her. When looking at her portrait in Harewood House, it's easy to read into Lady Worsley's red dress and riding crop as cheap symbols of sexuality that perhaps further carve the metaphorical

Scarlet A into her legacy. But you can also see a woman dressed for battle, waiting for her moment. In her uniform, she faces the viewer head on, the hand on her hip, almost challenging us, as if she's saying, if I'm going down, then I'm taking you down with me. I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is Noble Blood. From an early age, it was clear Richard Worsley was never destined for greatness. The Worsley family may have owned the Eppoldercombe estate in the Isle of Wight, but the Worsley name had long since slipped into social obscurity. They may have enjoyed political prominence sometime around the early 17th century,

but by the mid-18th they were characterized as little more than a family of uncultured country bumpkins, another mindless vote for the Tory party. One anonymous source described the family as, quote, never having been remarkable for producing either heroes or conjurers. It's an opinion which seemed to have extended to the newest baronet of a Poldercum. As a teenager, young Richard Worsley's schoolmates had taken to calling him Dick Tardy, due to the lengths in which he consistently, quote, lagged so far behind. And unfortunately for him, it seemed as if this name would become a self-fulfilling property

when it came time for him to court a wife. As is the case for most average men, Sir Richard Worsley was convinced he deserved nothing less than the absolute best, which is why, in 1772, Worsley made it clear that he would make none other than Jane Fleming, his wife, by the year's end. If you're a fan of the Netflix show Bridgeton, Jane Fleming would have been what they described as the diamond of the season. The elder of the two daughters born to Sir John and Lady Jane Fleming, the younger Jane was a pinnacle of late 18th century femininity. Her delicate, almost ethereal beauty, was only accentuated by the effortless grace she carried herself with, inspiring some to describe her as, quote, an ornament to her sex.

The eager eyes of society gossips watched closely as she charmed her way through London's most elite circles. They were all keen to see exactly who would win over the coveted Jane Fleming, especially since rumor had it that her heart came with the attached incentive of a whopping 70,000-pound inheritance. In reality, the Fleming sisters were each given an inheritance of about 52,000 pounds. But considering that translates to around 66 million pounds today, that's more than a sizable amount for any bride in London society. In any case, Sir Richard Worsley had his heart set on Jane Fleming and was convinced he was, quote, to marry her in five months. Or he would have had Jane Fleming been at all interested in accepting his proposal. Unfortunately for our Dick Tardy, even after a summer spent flaunting his title and sizable fortune at the elder Fleming sister, his infatuation was

decidedly one-sided. But that didn't mean he would come away entirely empty-handed. If Jane Fleming was the season's diamond, then her younger sister Seymour was something more along the lines of a courts. Where Jane was poise and grace, Seymour was blunt and unyielding. Comparatively plain and not especially bookish, The younger Fleming daughter was once chastised for, quote, possessing more forwardness than discretion,

which earned her a reputation that may have proved entertaining at parties, but was decidedly less than desirable on the marriage market. In the end, Seymour may have been the less sparkly of the two sisters, but she did come with the same absurdly sized inheritance. A detail, Sir Richard Worsley, was all too aware of when he began courting the young Seymour just three years after his fixation on Jane, with one friend assessing that his interest was likely built upon the noblest foundations of, quote, love and 80,000 pounds. Their nuptials in September 1775 made them the talk of London's high society.

But behind the closed doors of the Apollicombe estate, the two were little more than strangers who occasionally shared a bed. Richard had budding political aspirations, meaning he often found himself traveling between London and his home on the Isle of White, leaving little time or energy to spend on his new wife. And yet, even with his sparse attentions, in August of the following year, Seymour managed to give Richard an heir, in the form of their son, Robert Edwin. And while the birth of their first child, a son, was cause for celebration, it was also the final nail in the sexual coffin, so to say, for Richard and Seymour's marriage. With an air secured for the Worsley line, the two had little reason to continue

any of the extracurricular activities their marriage once required. Instead, Richard made himself busy with his political aspirations, and Seymour quickly found herself immersed in the height of London's late 18th century social scene, the Devonshire House Circle. Now, if you are a frequent listener of this podcast, you may remember our two-part series on the Duchess of Devonshire, Georgiana Cavendish. and yes, I promise, that is how she pronounced her name. But in case you need a recap, allow me to quickly summarize the ins and outs of the Duchess and her elite circle of friends. By the late 1770s, approximately 100 people made up the core of what was known as the Devonshire House Circle. The mixture of artists, politicians, and aristocrats all gathered at Devonshire House, for parties and political events

under the guise of exchanging intelligent conversation, only to have most nights and in various stages of drunken debauchery, while several lifetimes' worth of riches were inevitably lost to the gambling tables. But the circle was more than just a front

for parading the latest fashions or campaigning for parliament. Behind closed doors, the prim and proxie. the proper ladies and gentlemen of London's most titled houses used the circle as, let's say, a sexual playground. Within the Devonshire House Circle, affairs were almost commonplace, with partners essentially playing musical chairs to see whose bed they would be ending up in that evening. Adultery may have been illegal, but the laissez-faire attitude regarding sex and sexuality,

within the circle, emboldened many to experiment with friends. It was a mentality which lent itself well to Seymour Worsley upon meeting her neighbor in the Isle of Wight, a man named Maurice George Bissette. At 23 years old, Bessette came to the Isle of White after he inherited the estate only four miles from the Worsleys, and he wasted no time in befriending the married couple. It's impossible to say exactly when the affair between Seymour and Bessette began, but by the end of September 1780, the pair had become inseparable. Richard, always looking to strengthen his political capital, often invited Besset to campaign events and parties at his home. And while her husband schmoozed, his peers for political gain, Seymour took it upon herself to make sure that their newest acquaintance

was well taken care of. Now, I think it's important to note that despite his unfortunate and hilarious nickname Dick Tardy, Richard Worsley wasn't an idiot. He may have had singular mind when it came to his political career, but he couldn't ignore the overwhelming attention that Bessette gave his wife and vice versa. Especially not when, despite the fact that he and his wife had not shared a bed for months, there was an unmistakable swell to Seymour's stomach in the early months of 1781. There are, of course, a number of reactions one might have when discovering one's wife is pregnant with another man's child.

Anger, separation, exile, by 18th century standards, any of those would have been considered acceptable consequences to an illegitimate pregnancy. But Richard Worsley, generous man that he was, chose instead to give his wife's lover a job, specifically a captain's commission for the Southampton militia, a position which conveniently meant he would be traveling with him and his wife for the majority of the following year, as they visited encampments of soldiers training to be sent overseas. The fact that Worsley was not only willing to pass the child off as his own, but then secured Bessette's travel and lodgings during his travels with his wife, residing within the same home as him and Seymour, gives us a pretty good idea that he knew about the affair. It would be during that summer

that not only the Devonshire House Circle, but also Worsley's own staff, would be watching the with barely disguised fascination, questioning exactly how their dynamic worked behind closed doors. But come fall, when the rain and chilling autumn weather made it impossible to continue their travels, the happy little bubble that the trio had been living in that summer abruptly popped. For Worsley, the departure from the militia affected him very little. He had his political aspirations to keep him occupied. But for Seymour and Beset, the two lovers who had grown accustomed to waking up under the same roof and spending time together as a new family with their newborn daughter, the new distant between them proved to be too much. After barely more than a month of separation, Bessette unveiled his plan to Seymour.

and on the evening of November 19th, 1781, the two rode off into the night to elope, throwing caution to the wind, and hoping that come morning Richard Worsley would not stand in their way. While he may have been all right with his wife's adultery under his own roof, Wersley apparently took issue with his wife and her lover running off to a lope in the middle of the night. after the no doubt initial wave of rage had passed and he was no longer banging down the doors of every residence he thought his wife might be in, Worsley sat down to consider his next steps. Now, before we go any further into this story, I want to take a second to explain the illegal act known as, quote, criminal conversation. For those of you who don't spend your free time looking up 18th century legal terminology, criminal conversation or crimcon if you're cool and in the know,

is essentially the legal catch-all term for crimes of adultery. As women in this time were still seen as all but property in the eyes of the law, if a wife cheated on her husband, he could then act as a plaintiff and sort of, sue his wife's lover for what basically boil down to property damage. And they say romance is dead. Well, Richard Worsley, now stewing in his estate alone, following the betrayal of his wife and what he had considered to be his best friend who he had been nothing but generous to, saw no other option than to take legal action in order to take back what he saw as rightfully his. During this time, typical criminal conversation cases could ask the defendant for anything from 10 to 15,000 pounds in damages,

but Worsley was determined to teach Bessette and his wife a lesson. When Bessette was served his papers, he was horrified to find Worsley was suing him for 20,000 pounds, the equivalent of more than 2.5 million pounds today. Faced with a future of debtor's prison or life on the run, Seymour and Bessette were forced to rethink their options. Seymour's sizable inheritance now belonged to her husband, and should he lose this case, without Bessette to support her, she would be left all but destitute. There were more than enough witnesses to confirm their affair, but Seymour was done letting her husband dictate her happiness. And so, with nothing but pen and paper, Seymour decided that if her husband was set to blow up her life, she was going to give herself the pleasure of striking the

match to do it. On the morning of February 21st, 1782, the Worsley v. Bessette trial began in earnest. Worsley's team predictably came forward with overwhelming evidence of Bissette and Seymour's affair, but to the prosecution's surprise, the defense didn't seem at all bothered by their impending loss. It was only when Bessette and Seymour's fate seemed all but sealed that the defense came forward with their actual strategy. With what I imagine to be a smug glint in his eye, the lead defense lawyer turned to the court and unveiled the defense's secret weapon, the defamation of Lady Seymour Worsley. He began, quote,

The licentious conduct of Lady Worsley was so notorious that it had been the subject of common conversation. Ladies of Distinction in the Isle of White had frequently remonstrated with Sir Richard on the subject, and told him that if he did not attempt to restrain her conduct, her character would be ruined and destroyed. End quote. It was with this framework that the defense finally laid out their argument. In the defense's estimation, Richard Worsley had been adequately warned to contain his wife's lewd behavior,

but refused to do so because, quote, Lady Wersley liked it. But not only did the defense accuse Richard Worsley of allowing his wife to live her life of depravity, but they went on to accuse her of consorting with, quote, many prior connections. So many prior, quote, connections, in fact, that, quote, the idea of seduction by the present defendant was totally done away. In essence, the defense was rather than attempt to defend the overwhelming evidence of beset and Seymour's affair, they would seek to prove that Lady Worsley had taken so many lovers over the course of her and Sir Richard Worsley's marriage that there was no feasible way that the damages incurred by their elopement could be equal to 20,000 pounds. It was then that the defense called the first of their requested 27 witnesses up to the stand,

and Richard Worsley began to see his undoing. The first witness was a gentleman named George William Coventry, also known as the Viscount Deerhurst. The Viscount first became acquainted with the Worsley's in the fall of 1779. Following the unexpected passing of his wife, Viscount Deerhurst was inconsolable, that is, until he was introduced to the baronet and his wife. It was at this point that Sir Richard Worsley was undoubtedly sweating in his seat, for he knew exactly which bombshell the defense was about to lay on the courtroom floor.

Upon visiting their estate in the Isle of Wight, the Viscount recalled a conversation he had with Worsley, in which he made him an unforgettable proposition in regards to his wife. He did then say that many young men had tried her to no effect, and that I had his permission to try my chance with her." End quote. Chaos rippled in whispers throughout the courtroom as the gravity of this statement sank in, and the truth about Sir Richard Worsley's sexual proclivities,

began to come to light. Even though Richard and his wife Seymour had not shared a bed in years, Richard found sexual pleasure in their marriage by watching Seymour bed other men. Remember how Worsley was fine with Seymour and Beset having their affair so long as it was under his roof? Well, Beset was hardly the first when it came to that peculiar arrangement. According to the Viscount, at first he thought it was a joke and, quote, took it in a laugh.

Eventually, though, during his stay at Upholdercombe, Viscount Deerhurst did find his way into Seymour's bed, only to find a most unexpected surprise when he ventured out of her bedchamber in the early hours of the morning. Being careful so as to not wake the rest of the house, the Viscount stumbled into none other than Sir Richard Worsley himself. The Viscount recalled, quote, he found me in her dressing chamber adjacent to her bedchamber at four o'clock in the morning, at which point he remembered Worsley scrambling,

saying, Dear Hurst, how came you here? It's likely that from Seymour's dressing room, Worsley was watching the Viscount and his wife through the keyhole, if not simply, deriving his pleasure from the, the unmistakable sounds that must have been coming from the other side of the door. I want to be clear, I do not mean to kink shame anyone. Whatever fully consenting adults decide to do behind closed doors is entirely their business. But in the case of Richard Worsley, trying to cash out 20,000 pounds for an act he himself

derived sexual pleasure from and convinced his friends to take pardon because it then later resulted in the more public humiliation of his wife leaving him doesn't seem exactly above board. As they say, play stupid games, win stupid prizes. The next witness for the defense was not a former lover, but Seymour's personal physician, Dr. William Osborne. Like the majority of the 27 witnesses, Seymour called to slander her own reputation, Osborne was hesitant to give his testimony. After all, he was a doctor, and the privacy between a physician and his patients was of the utmost importance, and with such a high-profile case being covered in the gossip rags for all of London to see, he had his own client base to think about. But Seymour was clear in her letter to,

quote, make a point of attending and declare everything you know of me, end quote, which in the end is exactly what he did. When asked why he had been seen, summoned in August 1780, the doctor replied, quote, Lady Worsley had some complaints on her, which I fancy were the consequence of a venereal disorder. What was most interesting about this diagnosis was that it was Seymour who had employed the doctor's services for treatment, not Richard Worsley. Additionally, Richard was not treated for the same or any venereal disorder. The final witness was, despite their low societal position, perhaps the most important for the defense.

Mary Marriott was a bathing woman who worked in Maidstone, one of the places Seymour, Bessette, and Richard Worsley, had stayed during their blissful summer in 1781. It was there that Mary Marriott witnessed the moment that would prove to ultimately be Sir Richard Worsley's downfall. According to the bathing woman, she had seen Seymour beset and Worsley more than once, as Seymour used to come to the bathhouse and the men would usually accompany her. The men would typically stand outside as she bathed, but on one occasion as Seymour began to get dressed after her bath, Mary witnessed something quite different. A knock at the door alerted the undressed Seymour and the bathing woman to Richard at the door.

who excitedly told his wife, Seymour, Seymour, Bessette is going to get up to look at you. Moments later, from a high window, George Bessette was seen smiling down at the two women. This alone was rather damning, but the window in question was so close to the room's ceiling that it would have been impossible for Bessette to have reached it to look down at the scene without assistance,

meaning Richard Worsley gave him a boost likely having him sit on his shoulders in order for Bessette to get a better view. With this final piece of evidence, after an hour of deliberation, the jury finally came to a verdict. With the irrefutable evidence presented by the prosecution, Maurice George Bessette was found guilty of his adultery. But when the court read out what Worsley should be owed in damages for his wife's virtue, it was not 20,000 pounds, for they felt the evidence told them what his wife's virtue was worth. One shilling. And with the strike of a gavel, Seymour bested her husband, and in turn, ruined her own life.

Quote, Your ladyship has not only proved yourself an utter enemy to all amorous monopoly, but to every species of smuggling whatever, for your wares have always been laid open to every fair trader, and as fairly entered in the custom house of Venus. End quote. This passage from a satire titled The Wim, or the Maidstone Bath, and I'd like to point out that there are three exclamation points after the word Wim, was just one of the many cutting pieces.

written about Seymour Worsley's character following the verdict of what would come to be known as one of the most notorious criminal conversation trials of the 18th century. Predictably, even though she technically won the case against her husband in terms of revenge, Seymour was cast out as a social pariah amongst London society. Even the Devonshire House Circle, known for their sexual liberty, couldn't condone the presence of such scandal amongst their ranks. They did, after all, have the good scent not to air their dirty laundry for the whole of England to see. To make matters worse, in the ultimate petty move, even in the wake of his humiliation in court, Worsley refused to grant Seymour a divorce. This meant that not only could she not move on with her life and Mary Bessette, but her inheritance continued to remain in the hands of her husband.

And Bessette, with his name dragged through the mud and his property in the Isle of Wight, his only feasible legacy, needed to have a wife to bear legitimate children. And so barely a year after she had committed herself to social ruin and life, as a pariah in high society, George Bissette left Seymour in 1783. After being abandoned by her lover and vehemently refusing to return to her husband, Seymour was forced to live off the meager stipend her marriage provided her. But even then, through the years she would ultimately have to take on lovers who could care for her financially in order to keep her debt collectors at bay.

It wouldn't be until 1805 when Richard Worsley died that Seymour would at long last be granted her freedom. At the age of 47, Seymour finally gained back her inheritance and took back her maiden name Fleming. After years of living under the thumb of a man she despised and free to live her life as she chose, Seymour Fleming decided to celebrate her newfound freedom by marrying her lover, a 26-year-old Swiss musician named John Louis Hummel. You have to admire a woman who, after over two decades of being labeled as a harlot by high society, goes and marries a man 21 years her junior at the first opportunity. Which brings us back to the portrait of the woman in red at Harewood House. History likes to remember Seymour Fleming in the context of her infidelity, but in looking at her portrait, you can't help but look into the face of the woman behind it.

The woman, upon knowing that she was damned, decided to pick up a pen and paper and prove to the world that no one but she would determine her worth. That was the scandalous life of Seymour Fleming, but still. Stick around after the sponsor break to hear a little bit more about Seymour's second marriage. What's up, everyone? I'm Ego Vodom. My next guest, you know from Step Brothers Anchorman, Saturday Night Live, and the Big Money Players Network. It's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo.

My dad gave me the best advice ever. I went and had lunch with him one day, and I was like, and Dad, I think I want to really give this a shot. I don't know what that means, but I just. know the groundlings, I'm working my way up through, and I know it's a place that come look for up and coming talent. He said, if it was based solely on talent, I wouldn't worry about you, which is really sweet. He goes, but there's so much luck involved. And he's like, just give it a shot. He goes, but if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an

inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat. Just hang in there. Yeah. It would not be. Right. It wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck. Listen to Thanks Dad on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast. What's up, everyone? I'm Ego Wode. My next guest, you know from Step Brothers Anchorman, Saturday Night Live and the Big Money Players Network. It's Will Ferrell My dad gave me the best advice ever I went and had lunch with them one day And I was like

And dad I think I want to really give this a shot I don't know what that means But I just know the groundlings I'm working my way up through And I know it's a place they come Look for up and coming talent He said if it was based solely on talent I wouldn't worry about you

Which is really sweet Yeah He goes but there's so much luck involved And he's like Just give it a shot He goes, but if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat.

Just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck. Listen to Thanks Dad on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts. After the death of her first husband, it seems counterintuitive that Seymour Fleming would be so willing to jump into another marriage so soon after winning back her inheritance and maiden name. Well, as it turns out, she would not have to part with the latter.

In fact, the 26-year-old Swiss musician John Louis Hummel ended up taking Seymour's last name, becoming John Louis Fleming. The two remained happily married. until Seymour's death in 1818 at the age of 60. John Louis kept his late wife's name, even when he decided to remarry a year and a half after her death. Together, he and his new wife had a daughter who they named Cessarine Fleming. Many speculated that the younger man married Seymour for her inheritance, but even after her death, John Louis Fleming continued to honor her legacy,

and when he finally passed in 1836, his final request was to be buried next to his, quote, dearly beloved wife, Lady Seymour Plumbing. Noble Blood is a production of IHeart Radio and Grimmin-Mild from Aaron Manky. Noble Blood is hosted by me, Dana Schwartz, additional writing and researching done by Hannah Johnston, Hannah Zwick, Mira Hayward, Courtney Sender, and Lori Goodman. The show is produced by Rima Il Kiali with supervising producer Josh Thane and executive producers Aaron Manky, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from IHeartRadio, visit the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. What's up, everyone? I'm Ago Vodom. My next guest, it's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo.

My dad gave me the best advice ever. He goes, just give it a shot. But if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat. Just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck.

Listen to Thanks Dad on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is an IHeart podcast. Guaranteed human.