The Duchess. Amanda Foreman
rel="nofollow" href="#ulink_b8a09967-11ee-56ab-b9f7-1417b9c51ead">* The usual method for estimating equivalent twentieth-century values is to multiply by sixty.
* The Spencers originally came from Warwickshire, where they farmed sheep. They were successful businessmen and with each generation the family grew a little richer. By 1508 John Spencer had saved enough capital to purchase the 300-acre estate of Althorp. He also acquired a coat of arms and a knighthood from Henry VIII. His descendants were no less diligent, and a hundred years later, when Robert Spencer was having his portrait painted for the saloon, he was at the head of one of the richest farming families in England. King James I, who could never resist an attractive young man, gave him a peerage and a diplomatic post to the court of Duke Frederick of Wurttemberg. From then on the Spencers left farming to their agents and concentrated on court politics.
*His father, the Hon. John Spencer, was in fact a younger son and, given the law of primogeniture, had always expected to marry his fortune or live in debt. However, his mother was the daughter of the first Duke of Marlborough, and the Marlboroughs had no heir. To prevent the line from dying out the Marlboroughs obtained special dispensation for the title to pass through the female line. John’s older brother Charles became the next Duke. John, meanwhile, became head of the Spencer family and subsequently inherited Althorp. Charles had inherited the title but, significantly, he had no right to the Marlborough fortune until his grandmother Duchess Sarah, the widowed Duchess of Marlborough, died. Except for Blenheim Palace, she could leave the entire estate to whomever she chose. Sarah had strong political beliefs and she was outraged when Charles disobeyed her instruction to oppose the government of the day. In retribution she left Marlborough’s £1 million estate to John, with the sole proviso that neither he nor his son should ever accept a government post.
* My heart is yours. Keep it well.
* Political life had not suited the reserved and honest Duke. But for the rivalry between Henry Fox and William Pitt, neither of whom would support a government with the other as its leader, George 11 would not have chosen this ‘amiable, straightforward man’, who was noted ‘for common sense rather than statesmanship’. The Duke shared with Lord Spencer, with whom he enjoyed a close friendship, a total lack of aptitude for the bravado of parliamentary politics. Dr Johnson said of him, ‘If he promised you an acorn, and none had grown that year in his woods, he would have sent to Denmark for it.’ But if asked to formulate a strategy for dealing with the French he sat there helplessly, waiting for someone to suggest an idea. He only participated in government out of a sense of duty and the effort it cost him ruined his health and destroyed his peace of mind.
* In 1719 the Duke of Richmond, finding himself unable to meet his obligations, paid off his debts by agreeing to have his eighteen-year-old heir married to the thirteen-year-old daughter of the Earl of Cadogan. The ceremony took place almost immediately, after which the girl was returned to the nursery and did not see her husband again until she was sixteen.
2 Fashion’s Favourite 1774–1776
The heads of Society at present are the Duchess of Devonshire, Duchess of Marlborough, Duchess of Bedford, Lady Harrington, and Co. etc.
Morning Post, Saturday 29 July 1775
The excess to which pleasure and dissipation are now carried amongst the ton exceeds all bounds, particularly among women of quality. The duchess of D—e has almost ruined her constitution by the hurrying life which she has led for some time; her mother, Lady S—r has mentioned it with concern to the Duke, who only answers, ‘Let her alone – she is but a girl.’
Morning Post, Monday 11 March 1776
THREE DAYS after the wedding the Duke was spotted with his drinking companions trawling the pleasure gardens of Ranelagh at Chelsea. He provoked more gossip when he turned up four hours late for his presentation at court with Georgiana. All newly married couples were required to present themselves to the Queen at one of her twice-weekly public audiences at St James’s Palace, known as ‘Drawing Rooms’. ‘The Drawing-room was fuller than ever I saw it,’ a witness recorded, ‘excepting that of a Birthday [of the King or Queen], owing, as I suppose, to the curiosity to see the Duchess of Devonshire.’ Georgiana was wearing her wedding dress and ‘look’d very pretty … happiness was never more marked in a countenance than hers. She was properly fine for the time of year, and her diamonds are very magnificent.’1 The formidable Lady Mary Coke wondered why the Duke ambled in on his own several hours after Georgiana. He ‘had very near been too late; it was nearly four o’clock when he came into the Drawing-Room’. She watched him for some time and noticed that he showed no emotion. ‘His Grace is as happy as his Duchess,’ she decided charitably, ‘but his countenance does not mark it so strongly.’2 Lady Mary’s opinion might have been different had she known about Lady Spencer’s frantic messages to the Duke, imploring him not to be late.
Protocol demanded that Georgiana should pay a call on every notable person in society. For the next three weeks she went from house to house, making polite conversation for fifteen minutes while her hosts scrutinized the new Duchess of Devonshire. In an era when social prestige was itself a form of currency, Georgiana’s visits were highly prized. Lady Mary Coke was not among the 500 whom Georgiana managed to see, which soured her feelings towards her cousin for ever after.
In early July Georgiana set off with the Duke on the three-day journey from London to Derbyshire, to stay at Chatsworth for the summer. The long hours on the road, with no amusement save the view from the window, were the first she had spent alone with her husband. He had hardly addressed a word to her since the day of their marriage. His taciturnity made her nervous and she overcompensated by being excessively lively. There were plenty of scenes for her to point out: a picturesque church here, a field of poppies there – rural villages in England were much more prosperous and better kept than in Europe. A Frenchman on a tour of Britain in 1765 was amazed to see that labourers had shoes on their feet, and instead of grey rags wore ‘good cloth’ on their backs. In contrast to the mud cottages of the peasantry in France, all the dwellings he saw were ‘built of brick and covered with tiles, [and] have glass windows’.3
The road had dwindled to little more than a bumpy track by the time the cavalcade of wagons and baggage carts reached Derbyshire. Here rocky moorland and fast-flowing waterfalls replaced the green hedgerows and rich hay fields of the south. Daniel Defoe toured England at the beginning of the century and described the countryside around Chatsworth as a ‘waste and howling wilderness with neither hedge nor tree’. But Horace Walpole, visiting the area half a century later, when tastes inclined towards the romantic, was spellbound by its ruggedness. ‘Vast woods hand down the hills,’ he wrote, ‘and the immense rocks only serve to dignify the prospect.’ He admired the terrain; but Chatsworth itself – the ‘Palace of the Peak’ – with its gloomy grandeur and isolated situation, lowered his spirits.
Successive generations of Cavendishes had transformed the original Elizabethan design until it was unrecognizable. In 1686 the first Duke of Devonshire, who was of ‘nice honour in everything, but the paying of his tradesmen’, ordered the architect William Talman to tear down Chatsworth’s pointed turrets and design something more modern in their place. He continued adding to the house until the result was a novel evocation of the English baroque style. Georgiana’s first glimpse was of a rectangular stone box, some 172 feet long and three storeys high, topped by a cornice and balustrade which bore elaborately decorated urns at regular