daughter of Sir Ralph Milbanke. He entered the diplomatic service at
an early age, was successively attached to the British Legation at
Palermo, and the Embassy at Vienna, where in the year 1813 he became
Minister Plenipotentiary, _ad interim_, until the arrival of Lord
Stewart, afterwards Marquis of Londonderry. From September 1815 he was
Envoy to Munich until 1820, and two years later he was appointed Privy
Councillor, and subsequently G.C.B. (civil), in consideration of his
diplomatic services. He was successively Minister to Madrid and
Ambassador at Vienna, and retired on a pension in 1841, having
previously been elevated to the Peerage by the title of Baron
Beauvale. On the death of his brother William in 1848 (some time First
Lord of the Treasury), the Viscountcy of Melbourne devolved on him.
Lord Beauvale married at Vienna in 1841 the daughter of Count
Maltzahn, the Prussian Minister at the Austrian Court. He had no
children, and his large property was inherited by his only sister,
Viscountess Palmerston. He died at his country house, Brocket Hall, in
Hertfordshire, in 1853.
[Illustration]
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[Illustration]
LADY COWPER’S SITTING-ROOM
AND
LORD COWPER’S STUDY.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
LADY COWPER’S SITTING-ROOM.
-------
Francis Thomas de Grey Cowper, Earl Cowper, Viscount Fordwich, County
Kent, Baron Cowper of Wingham, Kent, in the Peerage of Great
Britain; Baron Butler of Moore Park, Herts, and Baron Lucas of
Crudwell, Wilts, in the Peerage of England; Baron of Dingwall,
County Ross, Peerage of Scotland; Privy Councillor, Knight of the
Garter, and Prince and Count of the Holy Roman Expire;
Lord-Lieutenant and Custos Rotulorum of Bedfordshire; Colonel of
the First Herts Rifle Volunteers, etc.
BORN 1834, SUCCEEDED TO THE EARLDOM IN 1856, AND TO THE BARONY OF
LUCAS IN 1880.
BY GEORGE F. WATTS, R.A.
THE eldest son of the sixth Earl Cowper by the eldest daughter and
coheiress of Earl De Grey. He was educated at Harrow and Christ
Church, where he was first class in Law and Modern History. From 1871
till 1873, Captain of the Gentlemen-at-Arms; from 1880 till 1882 he
was Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. Having married in 1870 Mary Katrine
Compton, eldest daughter to the fourth Marquis of Northampton. In 1871
Lord Cowper established his claim to the baronies of Butler and
Dingwall, obtaining an Act of Parliament for the reversal of the
attainder of those titles. Few Englishmen can boast among their
ancestry names more celebrated on the pages of history,—the names of
men who, differing in class, country, and characteristics, have each
swayed the destiny of nations,—the Patriot Stadtholder of Holland, the
Royalist Viceroy of Ireland, and the Protector of England, the late
Lady Cowper being a lineal descendant of one of Cromwell’s daughters.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
LORD COWPER’S STUDY.
-------
_No. 1._
THE HONOURABLE SPENCER COWPER, DEAN OF DURHAM.
_Canonicals. White bands._
BORN 1712, DIED 1774.
HE was the second son of the Lord Chancellor Cowper by his second
wife, who mentions ‘our little Spencer,’ with great affection, in her
Diary, when sick of some infantine complaint. He married, in 1743,
Dorothy, daughter of Charles, second Viscount Townshend, by whom he
had no children. He was buried in the Cathedral at Durham.
-------------------------
_No. 2._
THE HONOURABLE EDWARD SPENCER COWPER, M.P.
_Black coat. White cravat._
BORN 1779, DIED 1823.
THE third son of George, third Earl Cowper; born at Florence; came
over to England for his education with his two elder brothers. Resided
at Digswell, county Herts; represented Hertford in Parliament.
Married, in 1808, Catherine, youngest daughter of Thomas March
Philipps of Garendon Park, county Leicester. His widow married again
the Rev. D. C. A. Hamilton.
-------------------------
_No 3._
JOHN CLAVERING, ESQUIRE OF CHOPWELL, COUNTY DURHAM.
_Crimson velvet coat, lined with blue silk. White cravat._
HE was brother to Mary, Countess Cowper, wife of the Chancellor, who
makes frequent mention of him in her Diary. At his death his nephew
Earl Cowper annexed the name of Clavering to his own patronymic, and
inherited the fortune and estates of his maternal uncle.
-------------------------
_No. 4._
WILLIAM COWPER, AFTERWARDS FIRST EARL, AND LORD CHANCELLOR, AS A
YOUTH.
_Slashed sleeves. Brown mantle._
-------------------------
_No. 5._
MARY CLAVERING, WIFE TO THE FIRST EARL, LORD CHANCELLOR COWPER.
_Yellow satin gown. Holding a book. Fountain in the background._
BORN 1635, DIED 1724.
BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER.
THE daughter of John Clavering, Esquire of Chopwell, county Durham, a
younger branch of an ancient Northumbrian family, all Jacobite in
their tendencies. Mary Clavering and William Cowper became acquainted
in consequence of some law transactions, on which she had occasion to
consult him at his chambers. Their marriage took place shortly after
he was appointed Lord Keeper of the Great Seal. ‘The wooing was not
long a-doing;’ but it was far from being calm or uninterrupted in its
progress; and though Lady Cowper’s Diary, from which most of our
materials are taken, does not commence till 1714, when she began her
Court life, yet she goes back several years to tell us how many
adverse influences were at work to prevent the union, which proved so
well assorted. How my Lord, being a widower when the Queen gave him
the Seals, it was no wonder (particularly as he was still young and
very handsome) that the young women laid out all their snares to catch
him. Lady Harriet de Vere especially marked him as her prey. This
lady, daughter of the last Earl of Oxford of that family, was very
poor, and of a damaged reputation. She had made several advances to my
Lord through her kinswoman, Mrs. Morley, but finding nothing come of
it, set a spy on his actions, and dogged his steps to find out the
cause of this coldness, which turned out to be no other than pretty
Mistress Mary Clavering; upon which a clandestine correspondence was
begun,—letters purporting to be from some great personage, and
threatening him with the ruin of his official prospects if he married
the lady in question. The first letter came the day before the
marriage; but as the union was kept a secret, the plotters still
continued to prosecute their schemes. ‘And so for months my Lord had a
letter of whole sheets every day to tell him I was a mean wretch and a
coquette, and the like, and how that one night the Lord Wharton (a
noted profligate) had said to my Lord Dorchester at the theatre, “Now
let us go and hear Molly Clavering sing the opera all over again.”
Which was a lie, for I never did play in any public company, but only
at home when visitors asked me.’ Some time afterwards the Lord Keeper
agreed to accompany one Mrs. Weedon (who said she had a fine lady to
recommend to him), in order to discover who his clandestine
correspondents were, and found his suspicions confirmed, for Lady
Harriet de Vere and Mistress Kirke were the very ladies who waylaid
and ogled him whenever he came out of chapel. Lady Harriet was full of
‘airs and graces,’ which were of no avail. She told Lord Cowper that
the Queen was very anxious she should be married, and had promised to
give her a dowry of £100,000, upon which the gentleman replied, on
that score he durst not presume to marry her, as he had not an estate
to make a settlement answerable to so large a fortune. At length they
pressed him so hard, he was forced to confess he was already married,
and that, in spite of all their abuse, he could only find one fault in
his wife, and that was that she played the harpsichord better than any
other woman in England. Now Lady Cowper says she never would have told
this story had she not thought it incumbent upon her to do so, when
the Duchess of St. Albans (Lady Harriet de Vere’s sister) recommended
Mrs. Kirke as a fit person to be bedchamber woman to the Princess of
Wales. For some reason, public or private, perhaps a combination, the
Lord Keeper kept his marriage a secret at first. In one of his letters
to his wife (with whom he kept up a brisk and affectionate
correspondence) he says: ‘December, 1706. I am going to visit my
mother, and shall begin to prepare her for what I hope she must know
in a little time.’ In another letter he gives an account of a cold,
dark journey, and how his only consolation was to think her journey
was shorter, and by day-light, so that he was not in fear for what he
was most concerned for.
In answer to her declaring she disliked grand speeches, he agrees, and
thinks the truest love and highest esteem are able to give undeniable
proofs of themselves; therefore he shall depend for ever on making
love to her that way. A little later he writes playfully about the
lady he has carried into the country (presumed to be a fat old
housekeeper); and hopes that the picture of his ‘dear life’ may soon
be finished, so as to console him in some measure in his next
banishment. He begs her not to imagine from anything that may look a
little trifling or cheerful in his letters, that his mind is
constantly in that tune: ‘’Tis only when I enjoy this half
conversation with you, who, I assure you, are the only satisfaction
that I propose to my hopes in this life.’ Again, he cannot go to rest
without expressing his concern and amazement at her collecting ‘so
much disquiet from so harmless a passage,—’tis my want of skill, if it
was not the language of a lover.’ He writes at great length to dispel
his dear love’s ‘melancholy fancy,’ and values no prospect in life as
the continuance of her favour, and the unspeakable satisfaction he
shall ever derive from doing her all the good in his power; and so on.
The Diary of Mary, Lady Cowper, was published from private documents
at Panshanger in 1864, and, though fragmentary, is very interesting.
It commences with the accession of George I.; and the writer tells us
she had been for some years past (apparently through the medium of
Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough) in correspondence with Caroline of
Anspach, Princess of Wales, who had written to her most kindly. Lord
and Lady Cowper were both strongly in favour of the Hanoverian
succession, the wife having embraced her husband’s political opinions
in contradistinction to those of her father. On the arrival of the
Royal Family, Lady Cowper was kindly received, but the offer of her
services was evasively answered by the Princess, so much so that she
took it for granted ‘Her Royal Highness had had so many applications
on the subject that she could not take me into her service. I
therefore resolved not to add to the number of her tormentors, and
never mentioned the thing any more.’ She was confirmed in her opinion
when she heard that two ladies had been already appointed, and she
well knew ‘that the necessity of affairs often forces Princes to act
contrary to their inclinations.’ The coronation took place in October
1714, and thither Lady Cowper went with Lady Bristol (herself a
candidate for a post in the Princess’s household), who told her
companion she well knew that she (Lady Cowper) was to get an
appointment. The two ladies found the peeresses’ places so full that
they had to seek accommodation elsewhere, and Lady Cowper settled
herself next the pulpit stairs, when Lady Northampton and Lady
Nottingham came hand in hand; and the latter ‘took my place from me,
and I was forced to mount the pulpit stairs. I thought this rude; but
her ill-breeding got me the best place in the Abbey, for I saw all the
ceremony, which few besides did, and never was so affected with joy in
my life.’ Here follows an amusing account of how Lady Nottingham broke
from her place, and kneeled down in front, which nobody else did,
facing the King, and repeating the Litany. ‘Everybody stared, and
thought she had overdone the High Church part. The Lords over against
me, seeing me thus mounted, said to my Lord “that they hoped I would
preach,” upon which he answered “that he believed I had zeal enough
for it,” whereupon Lord Nottingham made some malicious remark, said
with such an air, that, joined with what Lady Nottingham had done that
day, and some other little passages that had happened, opened my eyes,
and showed me how that family maligned me.’ She takes occasion to
mention that the ladies not walking in procession had no gold medals.
Lady Dorchester stood next to her—Catherine Sedley, whom James II.
made a peeress, and who was reported to have said, ‘I wonder for what
quality the King chooses his mistresses; we are none of us handsome,
and if we have wit, he has not enough to find it out.’[4] And when the
Archbishop went round asking the consent of the people, she turned and
said: ‘Does the old fool think that anybody here will say no to his
question, where there are so many drawn swords?’
Footnote 4:
Charles II. said his brother’s mistresses were imposed upon him by
his confessor as a penance.
The Princess asked Lady Cowper if Lady Essex Robartes had delivered a
message, and, being answered in the negative, ‘Her Royal Highness went
on to tell me I had made a conquest, and seeing me blush, continued,
“It is M. Bernstorff, who never was in love in his life before, and it
is so considerable a conquest that you ought to be proud of it; and I,
to please him, have ordered him to make you a compliment from me.”’
Baron Bernstorff was indeed a good friend to have at Court, being at
that time German Minister and prime favourite of George I., who
consulted him on every appointment of every kind. He waited on Lady
Cowper the same evening, and told her she was appointed ‘Dame du
Palais,’ and was to kiss hands next day.
A friendship was formed, which withstood many a change and chance, and
more than one misunderstanding. On the Baron taking leave, the lady
intrusted him with her lord’s treatise, _An Impartial View of the
State of Parties_, which she herself had translated into French, and
transcribed for his Majesty’s perusal, who was no English scholar.
‘Great discussion whether the Princess, on going into the city, was to
kiss the Lady Mayoress (and quoting of precedents); but as her late
Majesty had not done so, it was arranged neither should the Princess.’
The new Lady-in-Waiting was in attendance when Her Royal Highness went
to the Lord Mayor’s Show. ‘Poor Lady Humphrys made a sad figure in her
black velvet, bawling to her page to hold up her train, being loath to
lose the privilege of her Mayoralty. But the greatest jest of all was
that the King and Prince had been told that the Lord Mayor had
borrowed her for that day only. I had much ado to convince them of the
contrary, though he by marriage is a sort of relation of my Lord’s
first wife.’ Query, was that a sequiter? ‘They agreed’ (Lady Cowper is
quite right to record any occasion on which the King and his son were
of the same mind) ‘that if he had borrowed a wife, it would have been
a different one from what she was.’
_October 30th_ (Diary).—‘The Prince’s birthday: the Court splendid;
the ball opened by him and the Princess. She danced in slippers
(heelless shoes) very well; but he better than any one.’
Lord and Lady Cowper, from their relative positions, had often to keep
company that cannot have been very palatable to so well-conducted a
pair. ‘Supped at the Lord Chamberlain’s (the Duke of Shrewsbury); Lord
and Lady Wharton and Madame Kielmansegge to wait on the King. Another
evening; I was mightily amused; but I could not but feel uneasy at
some words I overheard the Duchess of Bolton say in French, which led
me to believe the two foreign ladies were no better than they should
be.’ This remark alludes to Madame Kielmansegge, the daughter of the
Countess Platen (who had been mistress to the Elector, George I.’s
father), and wife of General Kielmansegge, after whose death she was
created Countess of Darlington by the King. Horace Walpole paints a
frightful picture of ‘the Ogress,’ whose appearance terrified him when
a boy. The Duchess of Shrewsbury was an Italian lady, of wit and
talent, whom Lady Cowper found it impossible to dislike as much as her
lord, for she was very entertaining, though she would sometimes exceed
the bounds of decency. Many members of the Princess’s own household
were themselves of very doubtful reputation, and we find the name of
Mademoiselle de Schulenberg of frequent recurrence in the Diary, a
lady who had been maid of honour to the Electress Sophia, the King’s
mother, and was afterwards created Duchess of Munster and Duchess of
Kendal.
_November 8th_ (Diary).—‘My birthday [she was twenty-nine]. God grant
that the rest of my life may be passed according to his will, and in
his service.’ High play was the order of the day at both Courts, and
the Princess and her ladies sat down every night to stake more than
they possessed, while the King was often very angry with those who
would not gamble. ‘I played at basset as low as I could, for which I
was rallied; but I told my mistress I only played out of duty, and
nobody could think ill of me if, for the sake of my four children, I
desired to save.’
From numerous entries in the Diary, it would appear that Lady Cowper
was averse to spreading slanderous reports, which were daily poured
into her ear, from party feeling, respecting many ladies of whom she
had no reason to think ill; but the quarrels and cabals at Court were
endless, and daily increasing; and she was sometimes drawn into a
dispute from feelings of just indignation, such as when my Lady
Nottingham accused Dr. Clarke (the famous controversialist, whom
Voltaire called _un moulin à raisonnement_) of being a heretic. But on
being pressed to quote the passage on which she founded so heavy a
charge, her ladyship threw up her head and replied, she never had, nor
did she ever intend, to look into his writings. Then said Lady Cowper,
‘What, madam! do you undertake to condemn anybody as a heretic, or to
decide upon a controversy, without knowing what it is they maintain or
believe? I would not venture to do so for all the world. All this
happened before the Princess, and was not likely to advance Lady
Nottingham’s wish to be governess to the young Princesses.’ Taking
leave of her Royal mistress at the end of her week of waiting, she
says: ‘I am so charmed with her good qualities, that I feel I never
can do enough for her. I am come to Court with the fixed determination
never to tell a lie, and she places more confidence in what I say than
in any one else on that account.’ This was in the first year of Lady
Cowper’s service. Unfortunately her enthusiasm in this quarter was
destined to be modified. It was evidently always a pleasure to her to
bring the name of any one in whom she was interested before the Royal
notice. She told the Prince of Wales that she never failed to drink
his health at dinner, ‘which made him smile and say, He did not wonder
at the rude health he had enjoyed since he came to England; but I told
him I and my children had constantly pledged him before his arrival,
by the name of “Young Hanover, Brave!” which was the title Mr.
Congreve (the poet) had given him in a ballad. The Prince, however,
was not learned in English literature, and asked who Mr. Congreve was,
which gave me an opportunity of saying all the good of him that he
deserved.’ She also bestirred herself to get places under Government
for her relations, who were for the most part very ungrateful; so much
so, that she could not help answering rather pettishly, ‘that the next
time they might get places for themselves, for I would meddle no
more.’ And her lord was so angry with them, he was for depriving the
offender of a commissionership he had himself bestowed at Lady
Cowper’s instigation; ‘but I soothed him, and told him after all I did
them good for conscience’ sake.’ The Lady-in-Waiting and her Royal
mistress had many a laugh together in these early days over some of
the eccentricities of Court life. Such, for instance, as when Madame
Kielmansegge came to complain to the Princess that the Prince had said
she had a very bad reputation at Hanover. The Princess did not think
it likely—the Prince seldom said such things; but Madame cried, and
declared people despised her in consequence, and she drew from her
pocket a certificate, written and signed by her husband, General
Kielmansegge, to say she was a faithful wife, and he had never had any
reason to suspect her. The Princess smiled, and said she did not doubt
it, but that it was a very bad reputation that wanted such a
supporter. Another specimen was Madame Tron, the Venetian
ambassadress, ‘who says, now she is come into a free country, she will
live and go about like other people. But the Italian husband is more
jealous than the German, and often beats his wife, which she is grown
used to, and does not care about, unless he spoils her beauty. So she
goes by the name of “La Beauté, sans Souci.” But she has been heard to
exclaim, when he is chastising her, with a very Italian accent, “Oh
prenez garde à mon visage!”’ ‘Lady Essex Robartes (daughter of Lord
Nottingham) is just beginning her long journey to Cornwall, which she
does with great fear.’
We cannot refrain from quoting Lady Cowper on the drama, when the
Princess consulted her respecting the propriety of being present at
the representation of ‘The Wanton Wife,’ or, as it was afterwards
called, ‘The Amorous Widow,’ written by Betterton,—the Duchess of
Roxburghe having given her opinion that nobody could see it with a
good reputation. ‘I had seen it once, and few I believe had seen it so
seldom; but it used to be a favourite play, and often bespoke by the
ladies. I went with my mistress, who said she liked it as well as any
play she had ever seen; and it certainly _is not more obscene than all
comedies are_. It were to be wished our stage were chaster, and I
hope, now it is under Mr. Steele’s direction, that it will mend;’ from
which observation we may conclude that, at least in the particular of
morals, our English stage has not deteriorated. It was evident the
Lady-in-Waiting’s influence was high at this moment, since the Duchess
of Roxburghe begged her to try and prevent Sir Henry St. John from
being made a peer. It was he of whom the anecdote is told, that when
his son was created Lord Bolingbroke, he said to him: ‘Ah, Harry, I
always thought you would be hanged, and now I find you will be
beheaded.’
Lady Cowper was apparently overpowered not only with solicitations to
procure places for friends and acquaintances, but sometimes intrusted
by her husband with messages of public importance to the Prince and
Princess, or that still greater personage, Baron Bernstorff; and she
seems to have carried out her mission with much discretion on more
than one occasion, as we before remarked. The fair lady and her
friend, the German baron, came to high words. He told her sharply one
day, ‘“My Lord est beaucoup trop vif, et vous êtes beaucoup trop vive
de votre côté. Les ministres se plaignent beaucoup de my Lord Cowper.
Ils disent qu’il leur reproche trop souvent, les fautes qu’ils ont pu
commettre.” The wife replied, “Notre seul but est de bien servir de
roi.” He repeated his words, and then said with great violence,
“Croyez moi, vous êtes trop vifs, tous les deux, cela ne vaut rien,
cela tourne en ruine.” I believe it was the first time that an English
lady, who had bread to put into her mouth, had been so treated. I knew
whence all this storm came; and plainly saw our enemies had got the
better.’
This was the time to which we have alluded in the notice of the Lord
Chancellor. Now, although more especially at this time Lady Cowper was
very desirous that her husband should retain office, for she ‘would
rather live with him in a garret up three pair of stairs, than see him
suffer,’ yet she always answered with spirit when the subject of his
resignation was discussed. ‘Mrs. Clayton came in and told me it was
reported that Lord Cowper was going to lay down. I answered, They say
he is to be turned out, and they need not have given themselves the
trouble; if they had but hinted to my Lord they were weary of him, he
would have laid down. They know he has done it already, which is more
than ever will be said of them.’ Though a courtier in the literal
sense of the word, Lady Cowper disdained to trim and truckle, as most
of her colleagues did.