She was the only daughter of Sir Ralph Milbanke, of Halnaby Hall, county York. In 1769 she married Sir Peniston Lamb, Bart., M.P., who was created Viscount Melbourne in 1770. She was a beautiful young woman of twenty when she first went to London, and took the town by storm. She was as much admired for her vivacity as her beauty, and Sir Joshua Reynolds speaks of her as figuring at one of the fashionable masquerades of the day in domino and tricorne hat, as ‘a pretty fellow’ or maccaroni, with the Duchess of Ancaster and Lady Fordyce, and a charming portrait, in possession of Lord Southampton, represents her in this costume. Lady Melbourne persuaded her husband to buy a house in Piccadilly from Mr. Fox (father of Charles James), who had been a friend of Sir Matthew Lamb, next door to Burlington House, which cost a large sum. Lady Melbourne called it after her husband’s title, and took the greatest delight in furnishing and adorning the interior, on which work she employed Cipriani, Wheatley, the humorous designer Rebecca, and all the best decorative artists of the day. The society was as brilliant as the walls which encircled them; and Royalty, fashion, beauty, and talent flocked to the receptions at Melbourne House, whose master, bent on pleasing his beautiful wife, threw open his gates with lavish hospitality. Sir Joshua was an intimate, as well as a general guest, and thus had many opportunities of studying the form and features which he afterwards immortalised in the picture that heads this notice. It was painted in 1770, just after Sir Peniston Lamb’s elevation to the peerage and the birth of his eldest son.
No sooner was the London house completed, than Lady Melbourne turned her attention to the embellishment of her husband’s country seat in Hertfordshire, where, in company with her chosen friend, Mrs. Damer (alike charming as a woman and an artist), she planned and arranged the internal decorations of Brocket Hall. Wheatley was again called in, and, with the assistance of Mortimer, painted the ceilings with allegorical subjects. The two ladies were also much addicted to the pastime of private theatricals, as was their mutual friend, the beautiful Duchess of Devonshire; while such names as Sheridan, Fox, Horace Walpole, and other celebrities, figured as actors and authors in Lady Melbourne’s company. It was here, doubtless, that Lord Egremont (then a youth) imbibed that love of art, and that taste for the society of artists, which made him so noble and munificent a patron, to the end of a long life. He was a great friend of the Melbournes, and loved to see his ‘three young lambs’ gambolling over the greensward in his spacious park at Petworth.
Lady Melbourne was very popular with the Royal Family, and one day the Duke of York called on her, and in the course of conversation became very enthusiastic in his admiration of Melbourne House. He confessed he was weary of his own at Whitehall, and would gladly move into her neighbourhood. The lady laughed, and said, for her part, she often wished to exchange the chimes of St. James’s Church for those of Westminster Abbey; and they talked on, half jestingly, half in earnest, till the possibility of an exchange of residence was mooted. It appeared strange, but perhaps the amateur house-decorator was lured by the prospect of new walls to beautify, fresh fields to conquer. Before the Duke took his leave, he had gained her Ladyship’s promise to discuss the subject with her husband: ‘For you know, dear Lady Melbourne, you always have your way with everybody, especially with my Lord.’
His Royal Highness was right: if Lord Melbourne raised any objection at first, it was soon overcome; the consent of the Crown was gained, the bargain was struck, the house at Whitehall became Melbourne House, and the residence in Piccadilly, York House, afterwards changed to the Albany, where, in the oldest portion and principal apartments of that paradise of bachelors, the decorations of Cipriani and his colleagues may still be admired.
All contemporary writers speak of Lady Melbourne as a leader of fashion and an ornament of society; Horace Walpole, in particular, alludes to her frequently, ‘in wonderful good looks,’ at the Prince of Wales’s birthday ball at Carlton House, and again at the French Ambassador’s, where it was so hot he was nearly stewed, but ‘the quadrilles were surprisingly pretty, especially that one in which Lady Melbourne, Lady Sefton, and Princess Czartorisky figured, in blue satin and gold, with collars mounted à la reine Elizabeth.
In 1805 her eldest son died; but the mother seems to have been consoled by the promise of future greatness shown by her second son, William, who early evinced a taste for public life, which harmonised with Lady Melbourne’s views. She took a great interest in political affairs, was a staunch Whig, and at the time of Charles Fox’s famous election, she displayed as much zeal and enthusiasm as her rival beauty, the Duchess of Devonshire. William Lamb’s marriage with the daughter of Lord Bessborough, which enlarged his connection with all the principal Whig families, was a source of great pleasure to Lady Melbourne. It was a pity, with her political predilections, she did not survive to see her favourite son and her daughter’s second husband each rise to the coveted position of Prime Minister of England.
We have no authority for stating in what light Lady Melbourne viewed her daughter-in-law’s infatuation for Lord Byron; but we know, from his own letters, that he entertained a great admiration for herself. He had never met with so charming a woman. ‘If she had only been some years younger, what a fool she would have made of me!’ With her he kept up unvarying friendly relations during all the vicissitudes of his love and hate passages with Lady Caroline. One day he called on Lady Melbourne, and asked her advice and sympathy. She was a model confidante, and had once given it as her opinion, that few men could be trusted with their neighbours’ secrets, and scarcely any woman with her own. Byron assured her he was wearied with his way of life, that he wished to marry and reform, and settle down at Newstead, and asked if she would assist him in his choice of a wife. Lady Melbourne smiled, and said she thought she knew of the very woman to suit him—her near kinswoman, Miss Milbanke, daughter of Sir Noel Milbanke, heiress to a large fortune, and a peerage in her own right, as Lady Wentworth,—no great beauty, but not uncomely, well brought up, well educated, and amiable. Byron was quite satisfied, but, as may be expected, when Lady Caroline heard of it, she was furious. ‘The girl has a bad figure, is given to statistics, and goes regularly to church,—a pretty wife for a poet!’ The lady refused the man, of whose moral character she had heard a sorry account; but he persisted, and the marriage took place in 1816,—an ill-fated union, as might have been expected, a fact but too well known. Lady Melbourne’s health began to fail; she drooped gradually, till one day the sentence was pronounced in her hearing—she had but a short time to live. She heard the announcement with calmness, took an affectionate leave of those she loved, and addressed some parting admonitions to her beloved William, which he never forgot. Lady Melbourne died on the 6th April 1818, at Whitehall, and was buried at Hatfield Church. Her son Frederick was absent from England at the time.
This portrait was brought from Brocket, where it once hung at the end of the ball-room. It was engraved by the title of ‘Maternal Affection.’
No. 17.