The Earl of Chesterfield
His appointment to the viceroyalty in 1745 was in the nature of a gift from the Government to the most dangerous dilettante of the day. The king, however, point-blank refused to sign the commission, and there were several stormy interviews between the king and his ministers before the former succumbed and declared 'his loving cousin and counsellor' Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. In Dublin the announcement of Chesterfield's coming roused the greatest enthusiasm. His wit, his manners, his wealth, his influence and his handsome appearance were all eagerly discussed. Dublin society, anxious to learn from the leader of society, welcomed him with open arms, and so the man who had been instructed that the Papists were dangerous and likely to become rebellious was able to write to London and glibly inform the Government that there was only one dangerous Papist in Ireland, and her name was Eleanor Ambrose, the daughter of a Dublin brewer, and the reigning beauty.
The beginnings of Chesterfield's viceroyalty gave every promise of a brilliant and long reign at Dublin Castle. He entertained freely and lavishly, and exhibited no scruples of refinement at meeting unofficially wealthy tradespeople or successful lawyers. The women, of course, loved him. His reputation as the philosopher of everything that was delightfully wicked and depraved fascinated them, and Chesterfield maintained the pose with ease. There was no one in Dublin to call him Joe Miller, or to sneer at the somewhat second-hand, if not second-rate, wit that flowed from his tongue and pen.
In his serious moments he declared that the foe of Ireland was not Popery, but poverty, and he expressed his amazement that the Irish should be content to live in a condition worse than the negro slaves. He was viceroy for a very short time, but he gave one gift to Dublin—Phoenix Park, for it was Lord Chesterfield who planted that renowned demesne.
The viceroy was essentially a man of the world, but he did not relax the strict etiquette of the viceregal court. The wives of doctors and lawyers were not allowed within the precincts of the Castle, and great care was taken to limit the entrée to the nobility and gentry. The good-natured Lady Chesterfield, during her occasional appearances in Dublin, gained a sort of popularity, more pronounced among the trading classes, whom she benefited by giving splendid balls at Dublin Castle, at which only costumes of Irish manufacture were worn. It was something towards the debt she owed the Irish treasury.
She viewed her husband's amours with patience, and the fat and ugly old woman even encouraged them.
Chesterfield and Miss Ambrose
To Eleanor Ambrose he paid great attention, carrying on an elaborate flirtation, with all Dublin as the audience. Miss Ambrose, whose reign preceded that of the Gunnings, played her part well, and the brewer's daughter became the centre, if not the leader, of Dublin society. Chesterfield wrote her verses and letters, and at Dublin Castle balls he always flattered her by his personal attentions. Miss Ambrose, who subsequently became Lady Palmer, never forgot her brief acquaintance with Lord Chesterfield, and ever afterwards his portrait adorned her house. When in the second decade of the nineteenth century Lady Palmer died at her lodgings in Henry Street, Dublin, Chesterfield's portrait hung in the most conspicuous place in her room. She was then within two years of a hundred in age.
On April 23, 1746, Chesterfield departed from Ireland, having secured leave of absence, and although he promised to return, illness stepped in, and it was deemed advisable that the earl should not be exposed to the damp climate of Ireland. The king was only too pleased to nominate Chesterfield's half-brother, William Stanhope, Earl of Harrington, to the viceroyalty, and even permit the ex-viceroy to become Secretary of State for the northern provinces.