The Plot to Undo Mary Eleanor Bowes, Part 1

It's a lot of fun. Join us support the show there. There's also links to show merch and to my books in the episode description and one quick note before this episode. This episode contains fairly graphic depictions of domestic violence. There are also terminated pregnancies, so if either of those topics are particularly sensitive for you, this one might be an episode to skip. In April seventeen seventy six, Mary Eleanor Bowse received a letter from her husband, Earl John Strathmore.

One month earlier, he had left their sprawling estate in the Scottish countryside on a trip to Portugal, and upon opening the letter, Mary Eleanor expected to hear good tidings, but this letter revealed dark news. Her husband was dead. He had died of tuberculosis, and this letter contained his final words to his now widow. While you might be expecting something vague or sweet, his letter instead revealed how

contentious and challenging their marriage had become. The Earl of Strathmore wrote, quote, as this is not intended for your perusal till I am dead, I hope you will pay a little more attention to it than you ever did to anything I said to you while alive. I freely forgive you all your liberties and follies, however fatal they have been, to me, as being thoroughly persuaded, they were not the produce of your own mind, but the suggestions

of some vile interested monster. Back in the early days of their courtship, the Earl of Strathmore had been tall and elegant, nicknamed quote the Beautiful Lord Strathmore, with a dignified, if stand offish air. Meanwhile, Mary Eleanor had been just sixteen years old and well known for being one of the richest heiresses in the country, if not all of Europe. She had no shortage of suitors, but the Beautiful Lord

Strathmore caught her eye. She, like many sixteen year old girls, couldn't help but be drawn to someone so handsome and also mysterious and aloof Her family had some reservations about the match, since the Strathmore family had accumulated a number of debts over the decades, which would potentially even put Mary Eleanor's fortune in jeopardy. Still, Mary Eleanor was charmed by the Earl of Strathmore and a little excited to

rebel against her family's expectations. She told her mother that she would marry either the Earl of Strathmore or no one at all. Her family reluctantly accepted, and Mary Eleanor married him in seventeen sixty nine. But if there ever had been a honeymoon period after the wedding, it was over quickly. The next seven years of marriage were cold

and unromantic. The Earl of Strathmore gambled, drank, and cheated on his wife, contracting syphilis along the way, all while Mary Eleanor attended to their five children and their vast estate. Mary Eleanor prided herself on her loyalty to her husband in spite of his dalliances, but by seventeen seventy six, she was fed up with it and initiated an affair

of her own. She met a man named George Gray, who from their very first meeting paid her near constant attention, which was a welcome far cry from her distant husband. Though resentment mounted in the marriage and indiscretions piled up, divorce was difficult and highly uncommon, and could have destroyed both of their reputations, so the marriage only ended when the Earl died at the age of thirty eight in

seventeen seventy six. But the Earl's final letter complicated Mary Eleanor's justified feelings of freedom and relief once her husband was gone. Even though in the letter he dismissed her ambitions to write as feudal and accused her of being prejudiced against him and his family for their debts, he said he was holding back his true feelings, writing that he wasn't quote tempted to say an ill natured thing

for the sake of sporting a bon mow. Instead. In his final letter, the Earl of Strathmore wanted to give his wife some advice from beyond the grave. The Earl cautioned Mary Eleanor to choose her next partner, wisely writing quote, A dead man can have no interest to mislead living man.

May those words would unfortunately prove prophetic. Unlike many women trapped in loveless marriages, Mary Eleanor had been given a second chance at a new life relatively young, giving her plenty of time to potentially find a new husband who might share her interests and respect her intelligence. After all, as the richest woman in Britain, she could pretty much have any man she wanted. Even the reckless gambling habits of her late husband hadn't put a dent in her

vast coal fortune. She was the heir to somewhere between six hundred thousand and one million, forty thousand pounds. But money cannot save you from bad judgment, and unfortunately, as Mary Eleanor's late husband predicted, she would ultimately be faced with a man with every intent to mislead her. I'm Danas Schwartz and this is noble blood. Mary Eleanor barely set aside time to mourn her late husband before launching

into enjoying her new single life. Although her newly single life was not quite as single as she let on, she already had a lover, George Gray, who she had started seeing when her husband was still very much alive. Unlike the late Earl of Strathmore, Gray was a devoted, attentive lover, visiting Mary Eleanor every day and sitting at

her bedside every evening. Even though she entertained his affections and did have a sexual relationship with him, Mary Eleanor seemed to put Gray in the eighteenth century equivalent of the friend zone, saying that she felt nothing for him quote that exceeded friendship. As a wealthy single woman, Mary Eleanor was also free to pursue her intellectual interests unencumbered.

Mary Eleanor's late husband had resented her intellect and viewed her interests as fruitless dalliances, distracting her from her true task of tending to the household and caring for their young children. Her husband had been particularly dismissive of her interest in botany. Mary Eleanor was one of few women

working as a botanist in Britain at the time. A colleague described her as quote the most intelligent female botanist of the age, and she built hothouses and gardens across her vast estates where she cultivated exotic plants from around the world, but the late Earl of Strathmore thought that plant pollination was too sexually suggestive for a woman's delicate sensibilities. After her husband's death, she supplemented her solo botanical study

by hosting salons. While Mary Eleanor was denied entry into the all male Royal Botanical Society, she gathered the greatest botanical minds of the day under her roof for hours of lively discussions about the latest discoveries. But not everyone was happy to see her living a life of freedom.

The same colleague that described Mary Eleanor as the most intelligent female botanist of the age also said that quote her judgment was weak, her prudence almost none, and her prejudice abounded, and that she lived in a quote house of folly. Marie Eleanor did not particularly want to get married again. She told Gray her friend slash Lover, that after her dismal marriage to the Earl of Strathmore, she

would never quote engage herself so indissolubly again. But even Mary wondered if she would receive come uppance for her fairly reckless, brazen affair with George Gray. She had already gotten pregnant by him a few times. Knowing that having a child out of wedlock would destroy her reputation, she had abortions which were expensive, dangerous, and unreliable. Each time she took what she described as a quote black, inky kind of medicine. We don't know exactly what was in it.

According to her, it looked and tasted as if it might have contained copper. If that didn't work, she'd add a large glass of brandy, seasoned with a handful of black pepper. Even though these abortions, in Mary's case, were effective, each one seemed like a bad omen to marry her luck, she believed would only last so long. Society could only tolerate so much of her freedom, and soon she knew she would have to settle down. Into this picture entered

a charming Irish soldier named Captain Andrew Robinson Stoney. He was a known figure in the coffeehouse scene of the late eighteenth century, living above Saint James Coffee House, a quick walk from where Mary Eleanor lived in Grovesnor Square. Stoney had a number of qualities that Mary Eleanor found attractive. He was five foot ten, which was tall at a time when the average height was five foot five. He was also handsome and impeccably dressed. He owned over ninety shirts,

according to his valet, very great Gatsby. And unlike her aloof late husband and her lover, whom she saw more as a friend, Stoney was passionate and romantic. Sometimes his gentlemanly, well mannered temperament gave way to expressions of intoxicating, overwhelming ardor. He wrote flowery letters, left big tips, and gave lavish gifts. Plus, Mary Eleanor had a particular weakness for Celtic man. Stoney was Irish, and her first husband and Gray were both Scottish.

Stoney sent a letter of interest in July of seventeen seventy six, just a few months after Mary Eleanor's husband had died. Unlike the formal address that she was used to, he sign the letter with a simple it is for you, and he arrived at her doorstep to hand deliver it. With a powerful combination of flattery and alluring informality, Stoney wrote quote, I have taken some liberties for which your ladyship can find no excuse unless you apply to the

powerful pleading of inclination for such freedom. I wish to make every apology, but I cannot get the better of a passion which has taken the intense possession of my heart. We don't have Mary's reply, but Stoney would brag about Mary's equally flowery letters when he was at a coffee shop in Bath, which suggests that she responded in kind. Two of Mary's closest friends, a woman named Elijah Planta, and a man named Captain Magra, were both both big

fans of Stony. One day, Mary, Eliza, and Magra went to a fortune teller to get their fortunes read. They snuck off to a dingy building near Newgate Prison and sat in a cold, dark waiting room for seven hours. They passed the time making up poems together and writing them on the wall in a lead pencil. In one of the poems, according to historian Wendy Moore, Mary wrote some lines denouncing matrimony. Mary also passed the time chatting with the others in the waiting room, pretending to be

a grocer's widow with ten children named Missus Smith. When finally she got to speak with the fortune teller, she mentioned her struggle deciding on a husband, and the fortune teller spoke highly of a tall Irish soldier. Even Magra, a skeptic, was convinced of this fortune teller's skill. While the stars seemed to align around her new relationship with Stony, Mary didn't really think of him as a serious option. She was still in a relationship with Gray, which was

getting increasingly intense. She had gotten pregnant yet again, but this time her abortion wasn't working. Seeing that she had no choice but to get married, Mary proposed to Gray, which at the time was considered legally binding. They had even exchanged rings at Saint Paul's Cathedral one night, as Mary Eleanor promised to marry none but him. Meanwhile, Mary Eleanor was getting smeared in the press, putting extra pressure

on her engagement. As the richest and most eligible heiress in Britain, she was a known tabloid figure and she was very familiar with laughing off articles her libertine lifestyle, but her feelings were genuinely hurt when an anonymous article signed from a conscious stinger appeared in the Morning Post on December twelfth, seventeen seventy six. The letter accused her of insulting her late husband's memory with her affairs, accused her of cheating on her husband while he was still alive,

and abandoning her children. A response appeared in the next issue defending Mary's reputation, but even that more positive letter seemed ridiculing, even sarcastic, arguing for her quote agonizing and heartfelt sorrow at her late husband's death, which everyone knew was stretch. The quote unquote more complimentary letter also portrayed her as a mercurial, guileless pam being manipulated by men

seeking to exploit her vast fortune. Throughout December and January, these anonymous letters went back and forth, alternately condemning Mary for being a cunning seductress and bad mother, and then shooting down those accusations with a defense that Mary Eleanor was merely an innocent fool. The court of public opinion seemed to be closing in on her, a fear only exacerbated by her pregnancy. Stoney was incensed by these letters in the newspaper. He approached the editor of the Morning Post,

Reverend Henry Bate, demanding to know who besmirched Mary. Eleanor's reputation. Bate replied that the letters were anonymous, so he didn't know the authors. Unsatisfied with that response, Stoney challenged Bait to a duel to defend Mary Eleanor's honor. Stoney and Bait met at Adelphi Tavern one night, which was a bit atypical as duels were typically conducted at dawn and in more private locations than bustling city taverns, but the

shadowy locale spoke to Stoney's sense of urgency. He wouldn't even wait until the next morning to defend his beloved Adhering to dual conduct, both men drew pistols, and Bait insisted that Stoney fire first. Stoney missed, shooting Bait's hat, and Bait missed two, the bullet merely tearing Stoney's coat. The men then drew swords, and in the ensuing fight, Stoney got slashed several times all over his body. According to a well regarded surgeon and multiple witnesses, these injuries

were life threatening. He was rushed to the hospital, blood staining his clothing. The next morning, Mary Eleanor rushed to Stoney's bedside. Stony seemingly moments from death, proclaimed that he would only die happy if he married Mary Eleanor. Doctor said that the wounded soldier only had a few days left to live, so she would probably be a widow once again anyway, and it seemed heartless to deny this man his dying wish after he had sacrificed his life

for her. So, despite the legally binding promise that she had made to Gray, she accepted Stoney's marriage proposal, and three days later the two were married at Saint James's Church. Stoney gave his vows from a makeshift bed, wincing in pain, but the two were happily wed. The duel was something right out of Mary Eleanor's most romantic fantasies. Back when she was still married to the Earl of Strathmore, she had written a five act tragic play in which two

men dueled for the honor of a maiden. And if this were a romance, perhaps the story would end here. The widow and the gallant soldier married headed toward there happily ever after, But the story does not end here. Stony recovered from his purportedly life threatening injuries, making this hasty marriage a fact of Mary Eleanor's life Now. As it turns out, this dashing Irish captain had some skeletons

in his closet. Nearly every aspect of their courtship, from the fortune teller to the duel to his status in the British Army, would turn out to be a lie. Revelations would nearly destroy Mary Eleanor and transform their seemingly picture perfect romance into a nightmare. Perhaps Mary Eleanor's romance with Stony felt ripped from fiction because in some ways it was the Captain Andrew Robinson Stoney that Mary Eleanor fell in love with. Was almost a complete fabrication from

the beginning, starting with the captain part. It turned out that Stoney was not a captain. He was barely even in the British Army. In November seventeen sixty four, when Sotny was seventeen, his uncle secured him a position as an ensign, the lowest rank of officer, as a favor to Stony's father, who was looking to instill in his son some much needed discipline. Stoney was fired the following year for flouting rules, gambling, sleeping around, and erupting in anger.

As another favor. He was allowed to rejoin the army in seventeen sixty seven, where he was stationed in Newcastle, but he managed to avoid ever going into battle by courting the affections of Hannah Newton, an heiress with a vast coal fortune, and securing her hand in marriage. Once married, he quit the army and spent his days gambling, shopping, and cavorting with his various military buddies. The only commitment he seemed to pursue with any consistency was making his

new wife, Hannah's life a living hell. While Hannah's own voice is lost in the historical record, none of her letters or writings survive, witnesses accounts fill in some of the harrowing details of how Stoney treated her. Once he locked Hannah in a cupboard in just her underwear and kept her there for three days, giving her one egg a day for sustenance. Another account recalls him throwing her

down the stairs. His justification for his abuse was that Hannah had not yet given him an air, which he needed in order to have complete control over Hannah's fortune, as that would legally allow him to maintain his rights to the Newton estate through his own lifetime regardless of what happened to Hannah, but she continued to have miscarriages and steelborns throughout their marriage as her own health failed, likely compounded by Stoney's abuse. She died March seventeen seventy

six during childbirth, and the baby died alongside her. After Hannah's death, rumors about Stoney's violence towards his wife abounded. A letter from a colleague in Newcastle alleged that he had shortened her days, while an anonymous pamphlet published in seventeen seventy seven argued that he should be tried for murder. Stoney had only just collected the five thousand pounds Hannah left him in her will before he headed off to

London in search of another wealthy bride. Luckily for him, Mary Eleanor Bows, the wealthiest woman in Britain, had recently become a widow. It wouldn't be easy for Stoney to win Mary Eleanor's heart. It seemed an impossible feat for an unknown soldier saddled with rumors of violence against his firs wife, especially since Mary Eleanor was already involved with George Gray. But those obstacles only made Stoney even more

determined to seduce and destroy Mary Eleanor. After making his way to London, Stoney's first challenge was embedding himself in Mary Eleanor's social circle. He knew Captain Perkins Magra, one of Mary Eleanor's closest friends, as an old pal from the army, and Stoney recruited him as an ally in his plot to win Mary's heart. Magra served as Stoney's wingman through the process, picking up a dashing scarlet uniform and frocksuit for Stoney to wear, and introducing Stoney to

Mary Eleanor's governess, Eliza Planta. Stoney plied Planta with flattery and bribes, and she even became his lover in addition to his spy in the Bow's household, Eliza would report back to Stoney about Mary's vulnerabilities and interests so that Stoney could woo her. From Eliza, Stoney learned about Mary Eleanor's beloved cats and favorite daughters, both of which he was careful to praise. In one letter, Stoney even wished he were one of Mary Eleanor's cats so that he

could quote be stroked and caressed by her. Stony made sure Eliza Planta and Captain Magra talked him up to Mary Eleanor and dispelled any unfortunate rumors about his relationship

with his late ex wife. Stony even had the three of them meet with the fortune Teller, who he coached on what to say the entire episode, the seven hour wait time, Captain Magra's supposed cauvicious skepticism, the fortune teller's premonition that a tall Irish soldier would be the right match was all orchestrated by Stoney, But even that hadn't been enough to win Mary Eleanor's hand in marriage. She still considered him a dalliance from her real affair with

George Gray, so Stoney played dirty. He approached an old friend, Reverend Henry Bate, editor of The Morning Post and fellow army veteran, and they created an elaborate plot to win Mary Eleanor's heart. In exchange for a hefty bribe, Bates agreed to help craft and then publish anonymous letters admonishing Mary Eleanor for her crimes, as well as the ones

supposedly quote defending her reputation. It's almost mind bending how evil all of This is while Stoney was privately writing Eleanor flowery letters about how great of a mother she was, he was also denouncing her licentiousness and her neglecting her children in letters published in the Morning Post. The letters he published that defended her were in some ways even worse. They blamed her for the lies, because she shouldn't have

fallen prey to them so easily. And he was doing all of this by bribing the press and bribing Mary Eleanor's closest confidence with money he had claimed from his wife's death, which itself was likely in part a result of his abuse. In early seventeen seventy seven, Stoney and Bait sent the final steps of their plan in motion. They decided to stage a fake doule for Mary Eleanor's

honor to appeal to her romantic sensibilities. They went to the Adelphi one night and bribed three witnesses, including a doctor, to attest to the brutality of the duel and the severity of Stoney's injuries. Stoney gave himself a few fake cuts to complete the illusion, and he painted his face white so he seemed like he was in dire condition. A large bloodstain on Stoney's waistcoat might have been faked

with pig's blood. He dramatically collapsed into a chair as medicks placed smelling salts under his nose to resuscitate him. He fainted two more times in case the first fainting spell wasn't convincing enough. When Mary came to visit him the next morning at his sick bed, he delivered a flowery speech, pausing to WinCE in fake pain as he begged for Mary Eleanor's hand in marriage. His ploy worked.

They were married just three days later. After Stoney made a miraculous recovery from his supposedly life threatening injuries, people had some suspicions about whether the duel had actually happened. George Gray, mary Eleanor's spurned lover and whose child Mary Eleanor was currently pregnant with, had particular reservations. At first,

he believed the story. He was actually the first one to visit Stoney in bed after the duel, and Gray thanked him for his bravery in defending Mary Eleanor's honor. After Gray realized that his bride and fortune were stolen out from under him, he began to voice his doubts, but his qualms were dismissed as the protests of a sore loser. A few months later, the newly married Mary Eleanor stumbled on a curious letter sitting out on a

table addressed to Stoney from Reverend Henry Bate. Bate was complaining in the letter to Stoney that he hadn't been paid yet, and he was threatening him with a real duel or he would publicly expose the entire scheme. With that, Mary Eleanor realized that she had been duped. Her fairytale romance with Andrew Robinson Stoney was nothing more than a fabrication at her expense. But this was only the first stage of Stoney's plan, and now he was moving on

to the second. He would ruin Mary Eleanor's life and take control of her fortune, exactly as he had done with his first wife, Hannah Brown. On the first anniversary of their wedding January seventeenth, seventeen seventy eight, Andrew Robinson Stoney told Mary Eleanor that he intended to make every day of her life more miserable than the last. Over the previous year, he had already been making good on

that promise pretty much. Immediately following their wedding, Mary Eleanor saw her lover transform from a passionate, devoted gentleman into an exacting, hot headed tyrant. Stoney began his marital reign of terror by taking control of every aspect of Mary Eleanor's existence. He forbade her from speaking any language other than English, even though Mary was multilingual. If she put on a bonnet he disliked, he would rip it off

her head and cut it shreds. He ordered a carriage to trail her wherever she went, and a valet to report back to him on whatever she did. He read all of the letters she received, as well as her responses. Planned outings were canceled at the last minute. If Stony disliked Mary's outfit, Visitors to the house were turned away unless he approved. She was forbidden from visiting her gardens and hot houses, fully separated from her passion for botany. Soon,

all of this escalated into physical violence. He pinched, kicked, and slapped her, and threatened to kill her if she told any of her friends or servants what he was doing. Mary Eleanor was forced to blame herself for the many bruises, cuts, and black eyes that Stoney gave her fabricating stories about running into doors or falling down the stairs. Servants and housekeepers inevitably witnessed his abuse, but they were forced to keep quiet out of fear of losing their jobs. Like

many abusers, Stoney blamed Mary Eleanor for his violence. He was enraged by Mary Eleanor's pregnancy by Gray, and even more enraged at the fact that Mary had secretly signed a prenup a few days before she married Stoney that forbade him from accessing any of her fortune. She hadn't suspected Stony of any wrongdoing at that time. She had actually created those documents with Gray in mind, and did so in order to protect her children from her first

marriage and secure their inheritances. Ironically, when Stoney found out about the prenup, he thought that he was the victim of an elaborate at hoax, rather than the other way around. Stony quickly maneuvered to rest control of his wife's fortune from her prenum, forcing her to revoke the deeds which

prevented him from accessing her estate. He also curtailed her relationships with her immediate family, including her five children from her first marriage, because he mandated exactly who she could see and for how long. As Stoney's abuse intensified, Mary Eleanor's confident, plucky and intelligent demeanor were seeded, she became subdued, submissive, fearful, gaunt, and disheveled. Stony forbade her from speaking or permitted her only to say yes or no, and so guests assumed

that she was rude, or crazy or dumb. Unfortunately, and I'm just warning you now, the abuse just continues to become more and more heartbreaking. A little over a year into their marriage, Stony forced Mary Eleanor to write a list of her air quote crimes, titled the Confessions of the Countess of Strathmore, as evidence that justified the abuse

she endured. The list contained nearly one hundred pages, detailing quote everything she ever did, said, or thought that was wrong and quote, including her affairs, teenage romances, abortions, and even friendships. The education that her father had carefully provided her and that had inspired a lifetime of curiosity, was recast as evidence of her inherent worthlessness. In her confessions, Mary Eleanor condemned her father for not instilling in her

enough reliegeous fervor to prevent her wrongdoings. Meanwhile, Stoney only gained power both inside and outside the marriage. Stoney used his new proximity to wealth and his wife's connections to pursue political power. He served as Higher Sheriff of Durham in seventeen eighty and was elected MP for Newcastle later the same year, serving until seventeen eighty four when he lost his election. It was that election in seventeen eighty four that would indirectly set in motion Mary Eleanor's escape.

Stressed about securing his reelection, Stoney was less exacting and monomaniacal about household manners, so when he needed to hire a new maid for Mary Eleanor, he sought a recommendation from a colleague in Parliament. He ended up hiring a woman named Mary Morgan, who was educated and just two years younger than Mary Eleanor. Unlike many of the other workers in the Bow's household, Mary Morgan had a small source of private income from the money her husband had

left behind after his death. She had been working in Georgian high society to supplement that income, so that meant she was less dependent on Stoney and less fearful of his wrath. Shortly after she was hired, Mary Morgan accompanied Mary Eleanor on a trip to Paris, where she first became suspicious of her new mistress's husband. Stoney had forbidden Mary Eleanor from looking out of the window of her hotel room, and he forced her to keep her face

covered when she went outside. Stoney also instructed Mary Morgan to keep a chair against the door to trap Mary Eleanor inside her room. One night, Mary Morgan stumbled upon Mary Eleanor bleeding profusely from her ear. Blood was covering her face and neck. Stony claimed that the wind had blown open a window and struck his wife in the face, but Mary Morgan knew that that story seemed far fetched.

When Stony left the room, Mary Morgan pressed Mary Eleanor on it, who finally revealed that Stoney had clawed her in the face after he caught her looking out the window. Mary Eleanor had never admitted his abuse to anyone, let alone to someone like Mary Morgan, who sympathized with her and believed her. This small step was crucial after years of enduring Stoney's abuses alone. Mary Eleanor finally had someone

on her team, but things were only getting worse. While Stoney was hell bent on withering away Mary Eleanor's life, he had not actually attempted to end it. He needed Mary Eleanor to care for two young children. There was Mary, who was Gray's daughter, born in seventeen seventy seven, and a son, William, born in seventeen eighty two, who was Stoney's child. But as little William and Mary got older,

Mary Eleanor began to fear for her life. Stoney talked about wanting to strangle her, threatened her at knife point, and he took out a series of insurance policies on her life. It had been almost eight years at this point since they got married, and his first wife, Hannah, had died just eight years after they had been married, a grim echo of what could be Mary's fate. One night, Stoney order her to take laudanum and fake a suicide attempt, threatening that if she didn't, she would be kept from

her children. Stoney poured an entire vial of laudanum in a glass of water by Mary Eleanor's bedside, well above the recommended dose. Mary was nervous, saying, perhaps there is a further design in this than you have acquainted me with. But I fear not to die, for I have long been weary of life. And if you will promise me to take care of Mary, I will drink it off. She drank the entire glass. At Stoney's insistence, she pretended

to announce her suicide while Stony fake cried. Mary Morgan rushed over, calling a doctor and giving Mary Eleanor something to make her vomit. Still, Mary Eleanor was bedridden in a stupor for four days. Stony used this false quote suicide attempt to try and get her locked away in an asylum, and he gave her a letter in December that confirmed this plan explicitly. Now knowing that her life would absolutely in danger, Mary Eleanor began to plot her escape.

She sent Mary Morgan to meet with a barrister in secret to see if she would be legally protected if she fled, and the barrister, very careful not to offer encouragement, said that Mary Eleanor could qualify for legal protection if she had evidence of her husband's abuse, but it would not be easy. She would almost certainly lose her fortune, and she might never see her children again. On February third, seventeen eighty five, Stoney was out to dinner and the

plan was set in motion. Mary Morgan distracted two housekeepers who were set to keep an eye on Mary Eleanor, with a conversation about trends in millinery. Meanwhile, another housemaid, in on the scheme, started a debate with the footman. Mary Eleanor, wearing a servant's cloak and a maid's bonnet, scurried down the stairs and out through the basement, borrowing a few guineas from her maids and bringing with her

none of her belongings. Accompanied by another maid, Ann, Mary Eleanor went north towards Oxford Street, waiting for a carriage that would take them away. But the moment they got into the getaway carriage, they saw another carriage heading their way, Stoney's carriage. The housekeepers, realizing that Mary Eleanor had escaped, had alerted Stoney, and he heard worried to track Mary

Eleanor down. His carriage passed by Mary Eleanor's, even getting within a few feet, but he did not notice her inside. With Stoney out of sight, and no time to waste. Mary Eleanor and Anne rushed to the barrister, who consulted with her for fifteen minutes to confirm her legal right to escape. Then Mary Eleanor snuck to a secret apartment hidden in an alleyway that Mary Morgan had secured for her. After nine years of enduring harrowing, life threatening abuse, Mary

Eleanor was finally free. In a letter she left behind for Stoney, she wrote, quote, farewell, I forgive but will never see you again. I can add no more as you have long ceased to treat me in any respect as a wife or a But even though Mary had escaped, she wasn't free. It was incredibly difficult to end a marriage in Georgian England. The only way to exit a marriage legally without one spouse dying was in an ecclesiastical court,

a court run by the Church of England. If a spouse claimed that their partner committed particularly egregious adultery, cruelty or heresy, the Church might permit the pair to divorce, and may even entitle both parties to financial remittance. But this was an extremely long, difficult and expensive process, particularly for women between sixteen seventy and eighteen fifty seven, two

thirds of the plaintiffs and ecclesiastical divorces were men. And even though Mary Eleanor had been born with nearly every advantage beauty, wealth, aguascation, smarts, and was raised to see herself as an equal of the men she interacted with, marriage had transferred that power to her husband. Her husband inherited her fortune and parleyed her famous name and connections into a political career, and he now had a cadre of powerful government figures and army buddies at his disposal.

The witnesses to his abuse were housekeepers who were on his payroll and so were unlikely to back Mary Eleanor in a divorce trial, but this didn't deter Mary Eleanor. While Stony may have duped Mary Eleanor into marriage, in the end, he was more wrong about her than she was about him. He thought of her as a mark that he could ply with sweet nothings before seizing her assets and either nearly or completely killing her. But her

spirit would not so easily be destroyed. Even after nine years of being beaten and starved, she knew somewhere deep down that she deserved more Stony may have been dogged in marrying Mary Eleanor, but little did he know that Mary Eleanor would be just as dogged in her attempt to get out of the marriage. And so on February twenty eighth, seventeen eighty five, Mary Eleanor filed for divorce from Andrew Robinson Stoney. But the story doesn't end here.

This decision would set off a series of trials and retrials that would drag on for decades and become a media sensation, with both Mary Eleanor and Stony endlessly picked a part in the tabloids. The marriage may have lasted a little over nine years, but the divorce which changed the course of marriage itself for centuries. Going forward. All this and more in Part two of the story to come. That's Part one of the story of Mary Eleanor Bows.

But keep listening after a brief sponsor break to hear a little bit more about how Andrew Robinson Stoney inspired a novel and much later a film about his quest for Mary Eleanor's hand. In eighteen forty one, Mary Eleanor's grandson, John Bows, welcomed a visitor to his home at Streathlam

castle a young writer named William Thackeray. While they hung out, Bows told Thackeray the incredible story of how his grandmother, Mary Eleanor, had been trapped in this very castle fifty years earlier by her husband, who had duped her into a marriage under false pretenses. After the trip, Thackeray wrote to his publisher, I have, in my trip to the country, found materials, or rather a character, for a story that

I'm sure must be amusing. This story became a novel called The Luck of Barry Lyndon, published in October eighteen forty three and serialized in Fraser's magazine throughout eighteen forty four. The book was revised several times, but it follows Barry Lyndon, who, like Andrew Robinson Stoney, was an Irish soldier who liked to drink, gamble, and sleep around before managing to dupe

and seduce a wealthy heiress, Lady Lyndon. After Barry Lyndon mistreated her for several years, Lady Lyndon manages to extract herself from the marriage, and Barry Lyndon ultimately ends the novel in jail. While the novel reproduces the events around Andrew Stony and Mary Eleanor's relationship pretty faithfully, Thackeray imagined a different past. Barry Lyndon, unlike Andrew Sotny, actually went into battle. Around one hundred and thirty years later, the

director Stanley Kubrick was looking for a new project. He had been working on a script about Napoleon that wasn't going anywhere. He thought about adapting Thackeray's Vanity Fair, but figured it might be too complicated to fit into a single feature, and so he turned to Barry Lindon instead. While Kubrick's film is fairly faithful to the novel, the tone is extremely different. Thackeray's novel is a farce, narrated unreliably by Barry himself as he attempts to create a

self aggrandizing account of his schemes, abuses, and misdeeds. Meanwhile, the movie attempts to be more quote objective. As Kubrick puts in an interview. Around the time the film came out, they carefully reproduced costumes from the period and used special lenses that had actually been developed for NASA so that

they could film interior scenes by candlelight. Thackeray called his novel The Luck of Barry Lyndon a novel without a hero, and Kubrick called his version of Barry Lyndon a film with quote neither a conventional hero nor a conventional villain. Barry Lyndon, while definitely not a hero, is a little bit more of a lovable rogue than the cruel, abusive, murderous stony. Sometimes fiction paints things in a more palatable hue.

Barry Lyndon is the story made glossy by candlelight. Noble Blood is a production of iHeartRadio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Manke. Noble Blood is created and hosted by me Dana Schwartz, with additional writing and researching by Hannah Johnston, Hannah Zwick, Mira Hayward, Courtney Sender, and Lori Goodman. The show is edited and produced by Noemi Griffin and rima Il Kahali, with supervising producer Josh Thain and executive producers

Aaron Mankey, Alex Williams and and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.