Chesterfield to carry her away from the allurements of the court,
and seclude her in one of his country mansions. This was an
advice to which the earl listened with complaisance, and carried
out with despatch, to her intense mortification.

The whole court was amused by the story, but dismayed at the
punishment my lord inflicted upon his lady. Anthony Hamilton
declares that in England "they looked with astonishment upon a
man who could be so uncivil as to be jealous of his wife; and in
the city of London it was a prodigy, till that time unknown, to
see a husband have recourse to violent means to prevent what
jealousy fears, and what it always deserves." He adds, they
endeavoured to excuse my lord by laying all the blame on his bad
education, which made "all the mothers vow to God that none of
their sons should ever set a foot in Italy, lest they should
bring back with them that infamous custom of laying restraint
upon their wives."

By the departure of Lady Chesterfield the court lost one of its
most brilliant ornaments forever, for the unhappy countess never
again returned to the gay scene of her adventures. For three
long years she endured banishment at Bretby in Derbyshire, and
then died, it was believed, from the effects of poison. For my
lord, never having his suspicions of her intrigue cleared,
insisted on her taking the sacrament by way of pledging her
innocence; on which occasion he, in league with his chaplain,
mixed poison in the sacred wine, as result of which she died.
This shocking story gained credence not only with the public, but
with members of his own family; inasmuch as his daughter-in-law,
Lady Gertrude Stanhope, after she had quarrelled with him, would,