Cosway, however, was too prudent, and, at the same time, too proud to permit his wife to be esteemed a professional painter, for he knew well that her productions would have greater value as the work of an amateur. To be painted by her was thus represented and regarded as a special favor; and costly presents were frequently added to the customary payments for her pictures.
In another matter the husband was more indulgent. Maria was passionately fond of music, and he permitted her to exercise her gift of song at the brilliant companies invited to his magnificent abode. This completed the enchantment. Visitors came in such numbers that the house would scarcely contain them; and all who were fashionable, or had any aristocratic pretensions, were sure to be found in Cosway’s drawing-rooms. There would be the poet whose latest effusion was the rage in high circles; the author of the last sensation-speech in Parliament; any rising star in art, or any hero of a wonderful adventure; in short, all the lions of London were gathered in that place of resort, to see and to be seen, and, above all, to listen to the charming Cosway. The Honorable Mrs. Damer, Lady Lyttleton, the Countess of Aylesbury, Lady Cecilia Johnston, and the Marchioness of Townshend, were Maria’s most intimate friends, and were usually present to add splendor to her receptions; while among the men were General Paoli, Lords Sandys and Erskine, and his royal highness the Prince of Wales, the foreign embassadors being also invited upon special occasions.
The mansion in Pall Mall was soon found too small to accommodate such an influx of visitors, and to display its master’s works and finery. A new one was taken in Oxford Street.
Several of Cosway’s biographers mention the fact that the figure of a lion beside the entrance put it into some wag’s head to stick on the door an epigram that had a severe point, as the foppish little painter was “not much unlike a monkey in the face:”
“When a man to a fair for a show brings a lion,
’Tis usual a monkey the sign-post to tie on;
But here the old custom reversed is seen,
For the lion’s without, and the monkey’s within.”
The artist left the house in consequence of this foolish joke, and fitted up another in the same street, with the magnificence of a fairy palace. The author of “Nollekens and his Times” says:
“His new house he fitted up in so picturesque, and, indeed, so princely a style, that I regret drawings were not made of the general appearance of each apartment; for many of the rooms were more like scenes of enchantment, penciled by a poet’s fancy, than any thing perhaps before displayed in a domestic habitation. His furniture consisted of ancient chairs, couches, and conversation-stools, elaborately carved and gilt, and covered with the most costly Genoa velvets; escritoirs of ebony, inlaid with mother-of-pearl; and rich caskets for antique gems, exquisitely enameled, and adorned with onyxes, opals, rubies, and emeralds. There were also cabinets of ivory, curiously wrought; mosaic tables set with jasper, blood-stone, and lapis lazuli, having their feet carved into the claws of lions and eagles; screens of old raised Oriental Japan; massive musical clocks, richly chased with ormolu and tortoise-shell; ottomans superbly damasked; Persian and other carpets, with corresponding hearth-rugs, bordered with ancient family crests, and armorial ensigns in the centre; and rich hangings of English tapestry. The carved chimney-pieces were adorned with the choicest bronzes, models in wax, and terra-cotta; the tables were covered with old Sèvre, blue Mandarin, Nankin, and Dresden China; and the cabinets were surmounted with crystal cups, adorned with the York and Lancaster roses, which might probably have graced the splendid banquets of the proud Wolsey.”
But splendor, fashionable position, success as an artist, and the friendship of princes and nobles could not make Richard Cosway happy. He saw the sneers lurking beneath the smiles of his aristocratic guests, and he heard the rumor that he was accused by other artists of using his talents to flatter the great, whose fleeting favor could not, after all, confer upon him lasting reputation. Maria’s health, too, began to fail; and, as the London climate was no longer endurable for her, her husband took her to travel on the Continent. They went to Paris and Flanders. One day, as they walked in the Gallery of the Louvre, Cosway pointed to the naked wall, and said his cartoons would look well in that place. He presented them to the French king, who accepted and hung them up, giving the painter in return four splendid pieces of Gobelin tapestry, which Cosway presented to the Prince of Wales.
With improved health, Mrs. Cosway returned to England and resumed her brilliant parties. But her spirits again failing, she accompanied her brother to Italy, expecting her husband to join her.
Three years’ residence in that soft clime quite restored her health, and she set out on her return to London. A new and terrible trial awaited her there: she was called to mourn the death of her only daughter.