Young Cowper’s maiden speech gave promise (afterwards well fulfilled) of his qualifications as a debater. He was in great favour at Court, and, being raised to the rank of King’s Counsel, distinguished himself by his eloquence in the prosecution of more than one State prisoner. During the trial of Lord Mohun, for the murder of Richard Coote, Cowper received a tribute for the clearness and excellence of his voice, a quality for which, in after times, he became proverbial. Several of the Lords, whose patience was being sorely tried by the confused, indistinct tones in which the Solicitor-General summed up, moved that some one with a good voice, ‘particularly Mr. Cowper,’ should be heard,—a great compliment to the gentleman, although the motion was overruled. The Cowper family, and Sir William’s eldest son in particular, seemed in the good graces of fortune, until the untoward event occurred which threw all those who bore the name into distress and perplexity, being, namely, the charge of murder against Spencer Cowper, as already recorded in our notice of his life. He and his brother were much attached, were members of the same profession, and travelled the same Circuit—in fact, were almost inseparable companions.
The justice of Spencer Cowper’s acquittal was unquestionable, yet the popular feeling ran so high in the town and neighbourhood, especially among the community of which the unfortunate girl was a member, that it was clear to every one that no candidate bearing the name of Cowper would be successful at the next election. Sir William indeed retired from Parliamentary life altogether, and his eldest son having failed in his canvass for Totness, in Devon (for which place he had stood by the wish and advice of his friend and patron, Lord Som̅ers), he was fain to take refuge in the close borough of Berealstone, which he represented until intrusted with the Great Seal. William III. died, and Queen Anne reigned in his stead, ascending the throne with feelings most inimical to the Whig party. Affairs did not look promising for William Cowper, all the more so as Lord Som̅ers had fallen into great disfavour; but he weathered the storm, and when the general election in 1705 resulted in a majority for the Whigs, the Great Seal of England was transferred from the hands of Sir Nathan Wright to those of William Cowper. He had for some time been looked upon as leader in the House of Commons, where his agreeable manners and graceful address had made him personally popular. As in the case of his brother, slander had been busy with his name, and the report that he had married two wives (of which circumstance hereafter) had been widely circulated. But he had powerful friends at Court in the Duchess of Marlborough and Lord Treasurer Godolphin; and her Majesty listened to their recommendations and her own bias in his favour, and William Cowper kissed hands at Kensington Palace on his appointment as Lord Keeper of the Great Seal.
‘The youngest Lord Keeper,’ says his daughter, Lady Sarah (he was in his forty-first year), ‘on record.’ ‘He looked very young, and wearing his own hair made him appear more so, which the Queen observing, obliged him to cut it off, remarking, it would be said she had given the Seals to a boy.’
It was about this time he contracted his second marriage; he had sorely mourned for the death of his wife Judith, and her child, but the charms of a fair client had made a deep impression on his heart. Mary, daughter of John Clavering, Esq. of Chopwell, county Durham (a gentleman of Tory principles), was handsome, as we see from Kneller’s portrait—sensible, and intelligent, as we gather from her charming diary.
The marriage was at first kept secret, which seems unaccountable, as the lady was well born, well bred, and of great personal charms. But she herself gives us a clue to the mystery. The Lord Keeper was still young, very handsome, in a high position, with every prospect of advancement, and the eyes of many a Court beauty were turned on him as a desirable match. We have enlarged on all the intrigues that were carried on to prevent his union with his ‘dear rogue’ (as he fondly calls her in one of his letters) in the notice of Lady Cowper; suffice it to say that the sequel proved how excellent had been his choice. But he did not allow domestic happiness to interfere with official duties. He set himself, with the advice of Lord Som̅ers, to bring about reforms on many points in the Court of Chancery, and, above all, he took a step which met with the highest approbation among all but the few, who aspired to the dignity he had already attained; he abolished the custom of New Year’s gifts. For many years it had been expected of every person connected with the Court of Chancery to present the Lord Keeper or Lord Chancellor with gifts of provisions and wine. But latterly money had been substituted for these minor donations, and hundreds, and sometimes thousands, had been presented to the great official on the 1st of January.
Lady Cowper tells us a laughable story of Lord Chancellor Nottingham (who spoke with a lisp). He used to stand by his table on New Year’s Day, for the better reception of the moneys, and every time he laid a fresh sum on the table he cried aloud, ‘O tyrant cuthtom!’
But before the advent of the year 1706, the Lord Keeper had it intimated to all those whom it might concern that the practice was abolished, having first, as (he considered) in duty bound, apprised the Prime Minister, Lord Godolphin, of his intention. In spite of his prohibition, some gifts appeared on the day in question, which were refused. He says in his Diary: ‘New Year’s gifts turned back. I pray God it do me more good than hurt.’
Now Lord Campbell, while praising the Lord Keeper’s magnanimity, accuses him of wanting the courage of his opinions; and, finding he had raised a storm amongst all the heads of all the departments that had benefited by this ‘tyrant custom’ of present-giving, implied he had done it in part unintentionally. If this be so, we know at least, and that from his wife’s diary, that on his second assumption of office, he adhered to his determination; for,—as to the people who presented these gifts, ‘it looked like insinuating themselves into the favour of the Court; and if it was not bribery, it looked too like it.’
Of the Lord Keeper’s disinterestedness in money matters, and his liberality, especially where men of talent were concerned, there can be no doubt. Colley Cibber tells us that when Sir Richard Steele’s patent as Governor of the Theatre Royal passed the Great Seal, Lord Cowper steadily refused all fees.
‘Cowper managed the Court of Chancery with impartial justice and great despatch, and was very useful in the House of Lords in the promotion of business.’ So far Burnet’s testimony. He was chosen one of the Lords Commissioners for England on the occasion of the Union with Scotland, and, being next in rank to the Archbishop of Canterbury (who did not attend), he occupied a most prominent post at the daily conferences. Lord Campbell tells us that, by his insight into character, and his conciliatory manners, he succeeded wonderfully in soothing Caledonian pride and in quieting Presbyterian jealousy. He regained his seat at Hertford in spite (as he thought, at least) of Lord Harley’s machinations; for between him and that Minister there was no love lost, although Harley had an exalted opinion of the Lord Keeper’s abilities. He was at this time in the Queen’s confidence, who sent for him one day to her closet, in order to consult him on the choice of a Chief Baron for Ireland. ‘I observed it was difficult to find a fit man; but it was obviously the interest of England to send over as many magistrates as it was possible from hence, being the best means to preserve the dependency of that country on England.’ The Queen said she understood that they had a mind to be independent if they could, but that they should not. Verily ‘l’histoire se rêpête de jour en jour.’ He was now raised to the peerage as Baron Cowper of Wingham, county Kent, and was deputed to offer the thanks of Parliament to his friend, the Duke of Marlborough, for his late victory at Ramilies.