| Book Review | Law and History Review, 22.1

Book Review

Donna T. Andrew and Randall McGowen, The Perreaus and Mrs. Rudd: Forgery and Betrayal in Eighteenth-Century London, Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2001. Pp. xii + 346. $35.00 (ISBN 0-520-22062-5).

Stability and order in financial markets depends upon trust—in our own day on the reliability of auditors and accountants. As we all know, this can be problematic, but this was even more the case in the eighteenth century, when the British economy depended upon a newly evolved system of credit, underpinned by the trust of its participants. Offers to lend and promises to pay fueled an economy that, by the 1770s, was truly global, as British merchants secured markets from the Chesapeake to the Ganges. The physical representation of this intricate system was made of paper: notes, bonds, stocks, and deeds. It all worked remarkably well, facilitating a worldwide commerce and funding an industrial revolution. But the system was, nevertheless, as fragile as the scraps of paper that expressed it. Particularly dangerous was forgery—a crime that threatened the trust upon which the economy depended and, moreover, a crime easy to commit. A forged bond might pass through several hands before it was detected, and even unsubstantiated rumors of circulating forgeries might seriously damage an individual's credit and by extension disrupt the pattern of trade. No one wanted to be left holding worthless paper, and authenticating documents was often difficult. The threat to business confidence posed by forgers led British lawmakers to treat them with exceptional severity—forgery was a capital offense, and one for which very few were pardoned. Being caught forging commercial paper meant, in almost every case, swift passage to the gallows.

Donna Andrew and Randall McGowen investigate the nature and consequences of late eighteenth-century forgery in this book. Using a single famous case, they have produced a wonderful study of the criminal law at work. Better still, their story becomes the vehicle for an examination of business practices, the press and public opinion, and gender and social relations. What emerges is a fascinating and valuable book.

In March 1775, Sir John Fielding, the famous blind magistrate of Bow Street, heard the details of a very puzzling case. Robert and Daniel Perreau, twins of Huguenot descent, were accused of forging a £7500 bond. The case drew immediate public attention because of the magnitude of the fraud as well as the respectability of the accused. Robert Perreau was one of the capital's best-known and most respected apothecaries, with a clientele that included some of Britain's most powerful families. His brother Daniel was a gentleman of the highest fashion, who lived with his "wife" Margaret in an extravagant Harley Street house filled with expensive furniture.

But nothing was as it appeared in this case. Robert, the respectable apothecary, had dabbled in stock-jobbing, a most disreputable trade. Daniel, who had no visible means of support, had acquired a reputation for shady dealings while in the West Indies. Even more mysterious was the woman who claimed to be Daniel's wife, Margaret Caroline Rudd. Mrs. Rudd's history changed with every retelling, and Andrew and McGowen do a marvelous bit of sleuthing as they attempt to track down the truth—but even they must admit that much about Mrs. Rudd and the case of the Perreau brothers will always remain murky. Mrs. Rudd, whose first husband apparently still lived after her liaison with Daniel began, claimed to be connected to many of the first families of Scotland. In fact, she was a representative sample of eighteenth-century Ireland's most perdurable export: the adventurer. Although from a modest Ulster family, she received a good education, and that, combined with her physical attractions, made possible her London career. She was a courtesan, providing her services to wealthy Londoners in return for protection and opulent living.

Greed and ambition impelled the slide from venial sin to capital crime, and the Perreaus' case embodied many contemporary fears. It illustrated a threat to the social order, as persons of no breeding—a tradesman, stock-jobber, and worse, a whore—counterfeited gentility as easily as they manufactured worthless bonds. No less important were contemporary fears for the economic order; the City had only just fully recovered from a financial panic that began in 1772, and turmoil in North America portended further economic trouble. A rash of forgeries added yet another element of instability to a developing crisis.

It is no surprise then that the Perreau-Rudd case became a cause celebre. The authors have sifted through a blizzard of newspaper and pamphlet literature to produce their account, which is admirably clear—though in the final analysis the truth of parts of the story will always remain debatable. The case quickly became one of two opposing and mutually contradictory tales as the Perreaus attempted to shift responsibility for the crime onto Rudd. One version cast the brothers (especially Robert) as victims betrayed by a ruthlessly unscrupulous woman. In the other, Mrs. Rudd was the innocent party brutalized by the Perreaus' greed. Both sides sought every means to gain an advantage both legally and in the court of public opinion. They hired talented (and expensive) lawyers, and they manipulated the papers with letters and essays; Mrs. Rudd herself was one of the most prolific writers on the case, often concealed behind assumed names.

Margaret Rudd won the battle in the courts: the Perreaus were convicted and sentenced to death, but she was acquitted. For the public, however, her triumph was less decisive. As the sordid details of her life emerged, she eventually came to seem a monster of depravity who had callously drawn her lover and his brother to Tyburn to satisfy her own lusts. Of course the reality was far more complex, as Andrew and McGowen make clear. No one was innocent in this crime, and yet no one was a monster either. The Perreaus and Mrs. Rudd makes fascinating reading: the story of the crime itself is gripping, and the authors use it skillfully to reveal much about eighteenth-century British society. It is that great rarity: superb scholarship and a good read all at once.

Victor Stater

Louisiana State University

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