Harriet was spared from witnessing the final tormented years of her daughter. Up until her own death, she continued to spend a great deal of time abroad, maintaining the standards of style and grace that she and her sister Georgiana had always aspired to. Even when she was approaching old age, we catch a glimpse of Harriet’s innate sense of decorum in a letter she wrote after attending a ball on the Continent.
I cannot tell you how sorry and ashamed I felt as an Englishwoman. The first thing I saw in the room was a short, very fat, elderly woman, with an extremely red face (owing, I suppose, to the heat) in a girl’s white frock looking dress, but with shoulder, back, and neck, quite low, (disgustingly so) down to the middle of her stomach, very black hair and eyebrows, which gave her a fierce look, and a wreath of light pink roses on her head. She was dancing ... I was staring at her from the oddity of her appearance, when suddenly she nodded and smiled at me, and not recollecting her, I was convinced she was mad, till William pushed me, saying, ‘Do you not see the Princess of Wales nodding to you?’.
The handmaiden to the Empress of Fashion had no time for such vulgarity and lack of elegance.
Harriet herself died in Florence in 1821, of a bowel complaint that killed her quickly. She was mourned as ‘much the cleverest and most agreeable woman I have ever known’, by a friend, Mrs Arbuthnot, in her journal, who continued:
She was dotingly fond of her children, who were passionately attached to her. In her youth she had been ‘très galante’, and in her mature years she retained those charms of mind and manner which, in her earlier life, had rendered her irresistibly attractive. She was the kindest-hearted person that ever lived, her purse and her good offices were always at the disposal of any one in distress, and she used to laugh and say that no one ever got into a scrape without applying to her to help them out.
And then an observation that might equally have applied to Georgiana:
Her errors arose from a false education and the seductive examples of clever but unprincipled men, & were well redeemed by a warmth of heart and steadiness of friendship that rendered her dear to her family and friends, who, I am sure, will long deplore her loss.
These easily discernible qualities in both the Spencer girls make their subsequent sadness and failure to overcome their demons all the more poignant. In 1792, Georgiana, Countess Spencer, had written to a friend about her son, whose conduct and demeanour were a matter of pride for her; just as the lack of substance in her sons-in-law was something to be decried: ‘What would not my daughters have been had their husbands been like him?’, she asked.
12. From Nelson to Caxton
Since 1783, Georgiana and Harriet’s brother, George John, had been head of the Spencer family. The second of the five children of the First Earl and Countess Spencer, he was their only son.
No longer encumbered by the terms of Sarah Marlborough’s will, he was free to embark on any career he wanted. So it was that he reclaimed the family’s pre-eminence in politics — an option that had been denied his grandfather and father. It was a world in which, through natural aptitude and his social position, he was to prove thoroughly successful.
John Spencer was determined that his son should receive the very best teaching available. From the age of seven George John’s academic progress was the responsibility of William Jones, an eighteen-year-old who was one of the four scholars of the foundation of Sir Simon Bennett at Oxford. This early stage of George John’s education took place predominantly at the family home in Wimbledon, but Jones accompanied his young charge to Harrow in 1769, where the Spencer heir lived like a prince with his retinue of servants, and — unheard of for a student, no matter how grand his lineage — his own carriage, complete with liveried staff.
A staunch Whig of extremely fervent views, Jones was as inspirational as he was unusual. He fought hard with the First Earl Spencer, to stop him interfering in his son’s education, and he attracted quizzical curiosity from the other tutors at Harrow with his eccentric approach to imparting knowledge. He preferred ‘learning fancies’ to traditional classroom methods, and this included getting his colleagues, Dr Parr and Dr Bennett, to join him and young George John Althorp in the fields outside Harrow, dividing the land up into different states and kingdoms. The three men and the boy would then each choose a dominion for themselves, and, each assuming classical titles, they ‘enacted the wars, negotiations and conquests of antiquity’.
William Jones thought an enormous amount of wisdom could be gleaned from the learning of the classics. As a philosophy, he cherished the resistance of tyranny above all others; indeed, he was an ardent republican. It was in the classics that he found many worthy and proud examples to reinforce his creed, and he was keen to transmit them to his aristocratic charge, who repaid Jones’s dedication and care by becoming his lifelong friend and correspondent. Indeed, it was to the adult George John — still Viscount Althorp at that time — that Jones addressed a poem that stated his ‘system of government and of morality too’:
Althorp, what forms a State?
Not high-rais’d battlement or labour’d mound,
Thick walls and moated gate;
Not cities proud with spires and turrests crown’d;
Not bay and broad arm’d ports,
Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride;
Nor starr’d and spangled courts,
Where low-brow’d baseness wafts perfume to pride;
No, — Men, high-minded Men,
With pow’rs as far above dull brutes endued
In forest, brake, or den
As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude;
Men, who their duties know,
But know their rights, and knowing dare maintain,
Prevent the long-aim’d blow,
And crush the tyrant, while they rend the chain.
Intrigued though the Spencer heir was by such thoughts, which underlined the Whig tendencies of his own heritage, the most lasting influence of Jones on the future Second Earl Spencer was to imbue him with a passion for books, a fact acknowledged by George John when, in 1776, he gave his tutor a twenty-volume edition of the works of Cicero, Jones’s favourite writer. Way beyond the development of George John’s ready intellect, this bibliomania would have far-reaching consequences for the Spencer family over the succeeding generations.
After leaving Harrow itself, George John was then tutored by the school’s headmaster, Dr Heath, in preparation for going up to Cambridge University. In 1776, the young viscount was admitted to Trinity College, under the Reverend Charles Norris, prebendary of Canterbury. At that stage, undergraduates from aristocratic families were not obliged to take the ordinary exams at Oxford or Cambridge, since they were eligible for a ‘nobleman’s degree’, which required little academic study or ability; but, on being awarded his MA, in 1778, George John was known to be an esteemed and accomplished classical scholar.
A Grand Tour of the Continent lasting two years followed, before George John returned to embark on his political career, standing successfully as a Whig candidate for the House of Commons, representing the borough of Northampton. He was bitterly opposed to Lord North’s Tory government, and, when that administration fell, in the main because of its disastrous handling of the war in America, George John became a Lord of the Treasury, a junior post, but recognized as being the first step towards greater things. Along with his fellow Whig ‘patriots’, he resolved that a priority was the granting of independence to the American colonies. He was firmly against perpetuating what he saw as a morally unjustifiable, highly expensive and doomed campaign across the Atlantic.
A year earlier, in 1781, George John had married Lavinia Bingham, whose father had recently been elevated to the earldom of Lucan. Even before the official announcement of the match in 1780 — with George John admitting to being ‘out of his senses’ over Lavinia — the marital intentions of such an eligible bachelor had become a matter of great interest in high society, and the Spencers found it hard to guard t
he privacy they sought over the forthcoming engagement announcement. Horace Walpole wrote on the subject to the Countess of Upper Ossory:
I caught Lady S. [Spencer] t’other night in one of these mysteries; it was two nights before Lord Althorp’s match was owned; but I had supped at Lord Lucan’s with the whole court of Spencer, and Lord A. [Althorp] had sat at a side-table with the two girls, [as well as] Miss Molesworth and old Miss Shipley. I knew if I asked directly I should be answered: ‘Upon my word, I know nothing of the matter’; so after supper, sitting by Lady S. on a settee, I said: ‘Pray, Lady S. is it owned that Lord A. is to marry — Miss Shipley?’ She burst out a-laughing, and could not recompose her face again.
We have already seen how Lavinia reached a state of mutual antagonism with Georgiana, Countess Spencer, George John’s mother. However, as Amanda Foreman has written in her biography of Georgiana Devonshire, initially Lavinia seemed the ideal match:
She was pretty in a conventional way with blue eyes and fair hair, talkative, intelligent and possessed of a strong sense of propriety which Lady Spencer [Georgiana] applauded. Less obvious until later were her more unattractive traits: she was highly strung, vindictive, hypocritical and a calm liar who maintained a veneer of politeness to her in-laws while freely abusing them in conversation elsewhere.
Mrs Delaney, contemporary gossip and busybody, approved of early evidence of Lavinia’s sense of style, writing to her friend, Mrs Dewes, two weeks after the wedding: ‘Lady Althorp appeared at the Drawing Room last Thursday — a fine and happy Bride: silver tissue trimmed with gold, many jewels, and very well dressed. Most of the relations and attendants on the occasion were in plain or striped satins.’
There were to be ten pregnancies during this marriage, three of which ended in miscarriage or still birth. Five sons and two daughters survived into adulthood — an extraordinarily diverse and interesting group, worth examining in some depth later. And yet it is as politician, rather than as patriarch, that George John’s life was primarily notable.
After his father’s death in 1783, George John became Second Earl Spencer, and from that point onwards sat in the House of Lords rather than the Commons. A Privy Councillor and one-time ambassador to Vienna, it was as First Lord of the Admiralty that he achieved the pinnacle of his success.
Although a Whig in the Spencer family tradition, George John was conservative enough by inclination to be scared that the deeply disturbing events going on across the Channel during the French Revolution might overtake his own country. The more extreme members of the Whig party were exhilarated by events in France, but George John — together with fellow moderates, the Duke of Portland, Lord Grenville and Mr Windham — felt he could best serve his country by joining William Pitt’s Tory ministry, succeeding the Prime Minister’s own brother, Lord Chatham, on 20 December 1794 as the cabinet minister in charge of the Royal Navy.
George John’s first slice of luck was to succeed as First Lord of the Admiralty a man as unpopular as Chatham. Of longer-term importance to him and to the Royal Navy, he was also deeply fortunate to have at his disposal during his tenure of the post, some of the greatest sea commanders of British history. As the publication Public Characters recorded in 1803 — two years before Trafalgar — the by then former First Lord had a uniquely successful record during his period of office:
No epoch in our naval history has been more brilliant. It was during this period that Lord St Vincent overcame the Spanish fleet, consisting of twenty-seven sails of the line; that Lord Duncan conquered the Dutch squadron under Admiral de Winter; and that Lord Nelson achieved the memorable victory over the French at Aboukir: three naval conquests unrivalled, in point of consequence, of glory, and of reputation, by any equal number in our annals.
Lavinia Spencer, always happy to luxuriate in her husband’s triumphs, justifiably claimed of the three victories of St Vincent, Camperdown and the Nile (which was also known as the battle of Aboukir Bay), ‘England, Ireland and India were all saved by victories won during his term in office.’
Spencer’s gift lay in his flair for man management. During his time at the Admiralty, he frequently entertained his officers, making it customary for captains and admirals to dine with him whenever they returned from a foreign voyage. Wives were not invited, since these were working affairs, although Lavinia herself often joined the meals. In this way the First Lord not only kept open direct communications with his senior men, but was also able to assess them personally. He proved to be a shrewd judge of character.
One young officer who particularly struck the Spencers was Horatio Nelson. Lavinia remembered her initial impressions of the man who was destined to become Britain’s greatest naval hero:
The first time I ever saw Nelson was in the drawing room at the Admiralty; and a most uncouth creature I thought him. He was just returned from Tenerife, after having lost his arm. He looked so sickly, it was painful to see him; and his general appearance was that of an idiot; so much so that when he spoke, and his wonderful mind broke forth, it was a sort of surprise that riveted my whole attention. I desired him to call next day, and he continued to visit me daily, during his stay in England.
Nelson seems to have genuinely liked the Spencers, giving them gifts from his voyages and mementoes of his triumphs. He wrote to Lavinia in September 1797:
Madam,
As you told me that Lord Spencer was in possession of a Spanish flag on which your Ladyship seemed to set great value, I have taken the liberty of sending you the sword of Don Tomaso Geraldino, a Brigadier and Commander of the San Nicolas of 84 guns, which I request you will do me the honour of hanging up in your dressing room, and which will at least have the novelty of being the first sword ever presented to a lady as an ornamental piece of furniture for her dressing room.
... Believe me I shall never forget your and Lord Spencer’s kind attention to me, and your expression that I have honour enough, is the incitement to more deeds of fame. I must now keep my good name and recollect the LAST action is the best, with my very best regards to Lord Spencer ...
George John had been as immediately and profoundly struck by Nelson’s qualities as his wife and, against the objections of the Admiralty Board, his fellow ministers and even Pitt himself, he appointed Nelson commander of the English fleet in the Mediterranean, over the heads of two senior officers; this at a time when the Navy was weighed down with a system of the strictest hierarchy, making such startling promotion unheard of.
The day before Nelson left for his new command, he came to pay his respects to Lavinia Spencer. During a solemn farewell he asked Lavinia, if he should be slain, to look after his wife, whom he professed to adore, calling her an angel who had saved his life after his horrific injuries by dressing his wounds. He acknowledged that officers’ wives were not usually asked to dine with the Spencers, but asked Lavinia to make an exception, ‘with an earnestness of which Nelson alone was capable’.
Lavinia duly yielded, and invited the couple to dine at the Admiralty. She noted that Nelson was ‘as attentive as a lover’ to his wife, insisting on sitting next to her during dinner, while apologizing for doing so, and explaining that he treasured every second he could spend with her when not at sea.
Lavinia was to contrast this behaviour with that he exhibited on returning from the Mediterranean, where he had fallen in love with Emma Hamilton while based at Naples:
After dinner, Lady Nelson, who sat opposite to her husband (by the way he never spoke during the dinner, and looked blacker than all the devils), perhaps injudiciously, but with a good intention, peeled some walnuts, and offered them to him in a glass. As she handed it across the table Nelson pushed it away from him so roughly that the glass broke against one of the dishes. There was an awkward pause; and then Lady Nelson burst into tears.
Lavinia, who affected great moral probity, was among the many who looked down on Nelson for his affair with Lady Hamilton. There were those, however, who refused to believe that the relationship was actually an adultero
us one, including Lavinia’s mother, the Countess of Lucan, who said to her daughter:
Lavinia, I think you will now agree that you have been to blame in your opinion of Lady Hamilton. I have just assisted at a private Sacrament with them both, which Nelson has taken before he embarks. After the service was over, Nelson took Lady Hamilton’s hand, and, facing the priest said: ‘Emma, I have taken the sacrament with you this day, to prove to the world that our friendship is most pure and innocent, and of this I call God to witness.’
Lavinia remained unconvinced by Nelson’s claims. Indeed, she concurred fully with the opinion of her friend, Lady Frances Shelley, when she said of Nelson: ‘True his public life is worthy of our highest admiration. If only it were possible to draw a veil across the private life of that great hero. Alas! A veil is so often necessary, in the domestic history of the world’s greatest men.’
Matters of marital fidelity aside, Nelson did deliver up Lord Spencer’s finest moment, with his victory at the battle of the Nile. It was Britain’s greatest military triumph over the French for half a dozen years, and left Napoleon’s army stranded in Egypt. The setback to his ambition was so undeniable, so huge, that Bonaparte said in the wake of the defeat: ‘To England is decreed the empire of the seas — to France that of the land.’
However, such were the appalling channels of communication at the time that the Spencers thought, for a long time, that the Royal Navy, although the victor of the encounter, had suffered very severe losses itself. This would have signalled the end of George John’s First Lordship because, throughout the spring and summer of 1798, Nelson had repeatedly missed opportunities to intercept the French fleet, every time that it had sailed. Spencer had been receiving the blame for Nelson’s lack of success. As Lavinia recorded: ‘He was reproached for having appointed so young an officer, when two others of greater experience were passed over to make way for Nelson.’
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