In the genteel parlours and scandal-scented courts of Georgian England, marriage was less a partnership than a public contract, heavily weighted in favour of one partner over the other. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t us women.
While a man could sue for divorce on the mere whisper of his wife's adultery (‘evidence being as flimsy as a the word of a spiteful servant), a woman seeking to escape a marriage had to hurdle the near-impossible burden of proving not just her husband's infidelity but also his physical cruelty — a high bar in a society that considered a husband’s “discipline” more of a domestic right than a moral failing.
This legal imbalance wasn’t just a matter of paperwork or parliament. It was a reflection of deep-seated societal beliefs: that a man’s honour could be damaged by an unfaithful wife, while a woman’s suffering was merely part of her sacred duty. Nowhere was this gendered injustice better illustrated than in the case of Queen Caroline, wife of King George IV (formerly the Regent himself, until of course King George III died and the regent inherited his crown).
Marriage Made in Misery
From the moment Caroline of Brunswick arrived in England to marry the then-Prince of Wales in 1795, the union was doomed. George reportedly asked for brandy after first meeting her, and their marriage swiftly devolved into public embarrassment. They separated soon after the birth of their only child, Princess Charlotte.
The Prince continued his extravagant lifestyle while Caroline — lacking both funds and social favour — was effectively exiled from court. She travelled abroad, building her own strange and scandalous legend while her husband plotted ways to be rid of her permanently.
When George ascended the throne in 1820, he made his move. He sought a divorce by royal decree — claiming adultery on her part and dragging her through a humiliating public trial (the infamous "Pains and Penalties Bill") that scandalised the nation. Caroline, painted by her detractors as vulgar and promiscuous, nonetheless won the public's sympathy. The King, meanwhile, appeared petty, vindictive, and alarmingly disinterested in decorum.
A One-sided Law
What made Caroline’s case particularly galling was how familiar the King’s own sins were to the British public. His long-standing mistress, Maria Fitzherbert, had been treated like a shadow-queen, and his excesses were legendary. But George faced no legal peril for his infidelities — because (arrange your surprised face) he was a man.
A woman in similar circumstances? She would have to prove that her husband’s affair came with something more: physical abuse, incest, bigamy, or what Georgian law delicately termed “unnatural crimes.” Adultery alone would not do.
Even if a woman could establish such wrongdoing, divorce required a private Act of Parliament — an expensive, often years-long process few could afford or survive socially, not even the queen. In fact, from 1670 to 1857, only a handful of women succeeded in obtaining a full divorce.
As one observer put it at the time, English divorce law did not just assume a moral hierarchy — it legally enforced it.
Jane Austen, writing to her friend Martha Lloyd in 1813, years before Caroline’s most public trial, made no attempt to conceal her feelings about the royal marriage. “Poor woman,” she wrote of Caroline, “I shall support her as long as I can, because she is a woman, and because I hate her husband.”
That sentiment — wry, unapologetic, and laced with solidarity — reflects how many women felt. They may not have admired Caroline’s conduct (which was often considered eccentric), but they recognised the deeper injustice: that a woman, no matter how wronged, was still expected to submit.
Austen, of course, never married, and some historians speculate that she understood all too well what marriage could mean for a woman without legal autonomy. Her novels, though sparkling with romantic tension, are underscored by a sharp awareness of financial dependence and limited female agency.
A Scandal with Staying Power
Queen Caroline’s trial gripped the nation. People flooded the streets chanting her name. Bonfires blazed in her honour. The government, fearing unrest, eventually withdrew the divorce bill. Caroline was never crowned. In fact, she was barred from Westminster Abbey on coronation day and she died a short time later, arguably of heartbreak and humiliation.
But her story lived on. It exposed not just the failings of a royal marriage, but the fundamental inequities of a legal system built to protect male power at every turn. In time, public sympathy for her helped pave the way for later legal reforms, though full divorce equality wouldn’t come until well into the 20th century.
The Crown, the Court, and the Cage
The story of Queen Caroline is not just a royal drama. It’s a cautionary tale of law weaponised against the vulnerable. Georgian England’s divorce laws did more than uphold moral standards; they entrenched a system in which female suffering was expected, private vengeance was legitimised, and dignity was a privilege afforded only to men.
Caroline, for all her flaws, became a symbol of defiance. And thanks to women like Jane Austen — who saw in her not just a scandal, but a sister in struggle — her story remains an enduring reminder that even (or perhaps especially) queens weren’t safe from the trap of unequal marriage. In fact, the position and title of Princess of Wales seems a most undesirable role, if we examine the history.
I've penned a novel based on this scandal - and for you today it's free.
Simply click here for The Case at Drury Lane (which is a sequel - you'll find Book 1 at the link too - enjoy!)
1 comment:
Wow, those days were a nightmare for women. I'd be interested to know how many young women committed suicide to get some peace. Poor things.
Thanks for the free novel based on this scandal, Clyve. A great gift! :)
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