SPENCER COWPER.
Tawny coat. Loose cravat.
DIED 1728.
HE was the second son of Sir William Cowper, second Baronet, by the daughter of Sir Samuel Holled, consequently the brother of William, afterwards the first Lord Cowper; and we have alluded, in the life of the Chancellor, to the deep attachment which subsisted between these two brothers. They were educated at the same school, selected the same profession, and, when travelling the same Circuit, almost invariably inhabited the same lodgings.
Sir William Cowper and his eldest son and namesake had both been returned in 1695 for Hertford, after a sharp contest, for the Tory element, though in the minority, was strong in that borough. Among the most zealous of their supporters was one Stout, a Quaker by creed, a maltster by trade; and he had been most instrumental in furthering the election of father and son. At all events, so thought Sir William, who did not discontinue his friendly relations with the widow and only daughter of Samuel Stout after the good Quaker’s death. The two ladies were frequently invited to Sir William’s London house in Hatton Garden, and the visit occasionally returned at Mrs. Stout’s residence in the town of Hertford. Moreover, Mistress Sarah, to whom her father had left a good fortune, employed Spencer Cowper as her man of business, and consulted him in all her financial concerns. Unfortunately it soon became painfully evident to all concerned that this beautiful, imaginative, and essentially excitable girl had formed a deep attachment for the young lawyer, already the husband of another woman.
‘But he, like an honest man,’ says Lord Macaulay, ‘took no advantage of her unhappy state of mind.’ A frightful catastrophe, however, was impending. On the 14th March 1699, the day after the opening of the Spring Assizes, the town and neighbourhood of Hertford were thrown into a state of excitement and consternation by the news that the body of Sarah Stout had been found in the waters of the Priory river, which flows through that town. Suspicion fell on Spencer Cowper, on the poor plea that he was the last reported to have been in her company; but his defence was so clear and satisfactory on the inquest, that a verdict of suicide while in a state of temporary insanity was recorded. William Cowper was not attending the Assizes, his Parliamentary duties detaining him in London, but Spencer finished the Circuit, in company with the judges, heavy-hearted indeed at the sad fate of his pretty friend, but with no misgiving on his own account. He little dreamed of the mischief which was hatching by the political adversaries of the Cowper interest. A rumour was carefully promulgated that Spencer had presumed on his intimacy with the fair Quaker, and that Sarah had drowned herself to conceal her disgrace. But this charge was proved to be unfounded. The next step taken by those who wished to render the name of Cowper obnoxious in Hertford, was to revive the cry of ‘Murder’ against Spencer, on the plea that the position in which the body had been found precluded the possibility of the girl having thrown herself into the water. Two ‘accomplices’ were carefully ferreted out, in the persons of two attorneys, who had come down to Hertford the day before the sad event; but these gentlemen were left at large on bail, while the man, whose father and brother at that moment represented Hertford, was thrown into prison for months, to await the Summer Assizes.
The distress of his parents, and of the brother who dearly loved him, may be well imagined, more especially as they were keenly alive to all the adverse influences which were at work. When the eventful day of the trial at length arrived, the town of Hertford—it might wellnigh be said the whole of England,—was divided in favour of the Cowpers and the Stouts; for so unwilling were the Quakers to let the imputation of suicide rest on the memory of one of their members, that they most earnestly desired to shift the blame on the young barrister, or, as he afterwards said at his trial, to risk bringing three innocent men to the gallows. We have good authority for affirming that the most ignorant and densest of judges, Baron Hatsel by name, sat on the bench that day, and that the prosecution was remarkable for the malignity with which it was conducted. Their winning card, as they believed, was the statement that the position in which the corpse had been found floating, proved that the girl must have been murdered before she had been thrown into the water. Medical evidence was brought forward by the prosecution in support of this theory, as also that of two or three sailors, who were put into the box. On the side of the defendant appeared names which still live in medical annals,—William Cowper (although no kinsman of his namesake), the most celebrated anatomist then in England, and Samuel Garth, the great London physician and rival of Hans Sloane. After what Macaulay terms ‘the superstitious testimony of the forecastle,’ Baron Hatsel asked Dr. Garth what he could say in reply. ‘My Lord,’ answered the physician drily, ‘I say they are mistaken. I could find seamen in abundance who would swear that they have known whistling raise the wind.’
This charge was disposed of; the body had drifted down to the mill-dam, where it was discovered entangled and supported by stakes, only a portion of the petticoat being visible. But the evidence of a maid-servant of Mistress Stout produced great excitement in Court. She told how the young barrister had arrived at the house of her mistress the night before the poor girl’s death; of how he had dined with the two ladies; how she had gone upstairs to prepare his bed, as he was invited to sleep, leaving the young people together, her mistress having retired early; how, when upstairs, she heard the house-door slam, and, going down to the parlour, found it empty. At first she was not alarmed, thinking Mistress Sarah had gone out for a stroll with Mr. Cowper, and would soon be back; but as time went on, she became very uneasy, and went and told her mistress. The two women sat up all night watching and listening, but had not liked to take any further steps, out of regard for Sarah’s reputation. They never saw her again till she was brought up from the river drowned. Then followed the ridiculous investigation of Cowper’s ‘accomplices,’ as they were termed—two attorneys and a scrivener, who had come down from London under very suspicious circumstances, i.e. to attend the Assizes; how they were all in a room together shortly after eleven o’clock, very wet, and in a great perspiration, and had been overheard to say, ‘Mistress Stout had behaved ill to her lover, but her courting days would soon be over,’ to which communication was added the astounding fact, that a piece of rope had been found in a cupboard adjoining the sitting-room.
It was fortunate for Spencer Cowper, who was not allowed the assistance of counsel, that his legal education, joined to a sense of conscious innocence, made his defence comparatively easy to him; but the task, on all accounts, must have been most distasteful and repugnant to a man of his character and position. He rose with dignity, and evinced great skill and decision of purpose in the manner in which he cross-examined the witnesses, and exposed the motives of sectarian and political animosity, which had been employed to weaken the interest of Sir William Cowper and his eldest son. So far his arguments were unhesitating,—he was now to be put to a harder test. He assured the Court that he deeply deplored the course he was compelled to take, but four lives were at stake, and he must, however reluctantly, violate the confidence of the dead. He brought many witnesses to substantiate the fact of the young Quaker having cherished a fatal passion for him, although she knew him to be married. When last in London, she had written to announce her intention of visiting him at his chambers in the Temple, to prevent which William Cowper had purposely said in her hearing that Spencer had gone into the country on business. Disappointed of this opportunity, Sarah wrote to invite him to stay at her mother’s house at Hertford during the Spring Assizes, which invitation he declined, having secured lodgings in the town. He also produced letters in which the poor girl said, ‘I am glad you have not quite forgotten there is such a person as myself,’ and, after hinting at what seemed unkindness, she begs him ‘so to order your affairs as to be here as soon as you can, which cannot be sooner than you are welcome.’