Grand rejoicings in honour of this reconciliation. Lady Cowper goes to congratulate the Prince and Princess: ‘The square full of coaches, the guards before the door, everything gay and laughing, everybody kissing, and wishing of joy. When I wished the Prince joy he embraced me, with all his old heartiness, five or six times, and the Princess burst into a loud laugh, and said: “Sir, I do think you two always kiss on great occasions.” All the town feignedly or unfeignedly happy. I kissed Lord Cowper on coming home, and said: “Well, I thank God your head is your own, and that is more than could be said six months ago.”’ And then she alludes to all the intrigues that were being carried on, and says: ‘There was not a rogue in the town but was engaged in some scheme and project to undo his country.’
The King still very distant to his son and daughter-in-law (with occasional variations of humour), and speaking of the pending change of Ministry, asked angrily if the Whigs could not come back, without the Prince of Wales. We have mentioned in Lord Cowper’s life how many overtures were made to him to return and resume office on the return of the Whigs to power. He came to his wife’s bedside one Sunday morning to let his ‘dear girl’ into his secrets,—how that he had thought with her to take service again, and that he had always considered a reconciliation so necessary, that it would help to make everything in its own condition again. And ‘I did think to accept of that offer made me, of my friend Kingston’s place, who has behaved himself so shamefully to me, that it would be a piece of justice upon him.’ But that, on further consideration, all his reasons for quitting office subsisted still. ‘I am old and infirm, and rich enough, and am resolved not to enslave myself to any power upon earth. At five-and-fifty it is time to think of making life easy. My infirmities will not let me struggle with knaves and fools. My tranquillity will content me more than all they can give me, under their power and influence.’ His wife said all she could to dissuade him from this decision, and he agreed with some of her arguments, but declared he thought any reproach better than the loss of his tranquillity, and that his resolution was taken. But to show he was not out of humour, he would ask for the key which had been promised Lady Cowper, and that he would accept a place in the Cabinet, but neither place nor pension, for he was resolved to live a freeman and an Englishman.
We have inserted this characteristic speech of Lord Cowper’s here, rather than in the notice appropriated to him, because it was made in private to his wife, and is recorded in her Diary. No wonder that after such a conversation, Lady Cowper was often tempted to answer the Princess and others with some degree of asperity when they insinuated that her lord was a place-hunter. The day before the new Ministry came in, she was in attendance on the Princess, and the new Lord Chancellor was there. ‘I dare say, Lady Cowper,’ said Her Royal Highness, laughing, ‘you are glad to see the purse in that hand.’ ‘Yes, truly,’ she replied; ‘I am right glad, and hope it will remain there until that hand is as weary of it as ours was.’
Diary.—‘Lord Cowper invited to the ministerial dinner; does not mean to go. Great hugging and kissing between the two old and the two new Ministers. They walk all four with their arms round one another to show they are all one.’ Now, though Lord Cowper could not be persuaded to change his resolution as regarded himself, he was most desirous to obtain the post of Mistress of the Robes for his wife, to whom the Princess had promised it, and who seemed best fitted by position, politics, and character, in all the Court. But the King wished the Duchess of St. Albans to remain, and that lady had ‘locked up the key in her cabinet, and did not intend to resign, unless compelled to do so.’ Lord Cowper waited several times on the Princess with the intention of urging his wife’s claim, but Her Royal Highness gave him no opportunity, and the lady was sorely aggrieved. ‘The Princess not willing to give me the key, yet she promised it. And when the King asked for some one else, she said: “Remember the obligations I am under to Lady Cowper, no one else can have it.” But now, she says, “Lady D. [Deloraine?] will be disobliged.” What claim has she?—is it for flying all over Richmond with the Prince?’
‘A new clamour for the Duchess of St. Albans. I am quite sick of this usage. Why did the Princess promise me the key, if she had not the power to give it? To what purpose such dissimulation? Sure she thought me a tame fool, who was to be easily imposed on, and who had not her interest at heart. The Germans used to call her, “Une grande comédienne:” I say no; if actors played their parts in such a manner they would be hissed off the stage, and must starve. She has disobliged the two best friends she ever had.’ Here follows a little bit of natural petulance. ‘There is indeed a great advantage in going to the drawing-room to be used as ill as Lord Sunderland pleases; he has undoubtedly taken care to betray his master for at least thirty pieces of silver; it were well if he would follow out the whole example, and go and hang himself.’ Alas for the change in Mary Cowper’s opinion of Caroline of Anspach, and her surroundings! She gives us a sarcastic speech made by the Archbishop of Canterbury (Wake), showing to the Princess his opinion of the state of public matters and public men at that crisis, which we therefore insert:—
‘Madam, we must now wish ourselves and the world joy. First of this happy reconciliation, and next of the honour, integrity, and disinterestedness of the Ministers, as well as their wisdom and virtue. They would be matchless were they not equalled by the two great governors of this Court, Townshend and Walpole. What glorious things must we not expect from the conduct of the first in the Ministry and the two last here? What happiness for the people to be under such directors! and what a glorious figure we must make all the world over when we are influenced by such counsels!’
‘No, sure, my Lord,’ answered the Princess, somewhat meekly; ‘those men are not our only advisers—what do you make of Lord Cowper?’
‘Oh! madam,’ replied the Archbishop, ‘he is not fit to be put on a level with such great men.’ Then the Archbishop asked her plainly if the Duchess of St. Albans was to have the key?
‘No, never!’ she said; ‘though she is always tormenting me about it.’
‘My Lord into the country for good; leaves me to get everything ready. Busy packing all day. The Princess asks why Lord Cowper leaves London; and answer, “To avoid importunity, and be quiet.” “And what makes you go so soon?” “Because he commands me, madam, and I have nothing to do but to obey.”’