Part 16 (1/2)
The Duke had never really forgiven Lady Mary for eloping. Her defiance of him hurt his pride inordinately. Everyone else to some degree at least he could control; his young daughter not at all. Only so far were they ever reconciled that he would occasionally visit the Montagus at their London house and play with the children.
In his later years the Duke's health was unsatisfactory, but it was not thought that the end was so near. ”I have now to tell you of the surprising death of my father, and a great deal of surprising management of the people about him, which I leave informing you until another time, being now under some spirit of hurry myself,” Lady Mary wrote to Lady Mar in March, 1726. ”I am unfeignedly sorry that I cannot send you word of a considerable legacy for yourself.” On April 15 she supplemented this account; but not to a degree to make it very intelligible:
”To be sure, the shock must be very great to you whenever you heard it; as indeed it was to us all here, being so sudden. It is to no purpose now to relate particulars, but only renewing our grief. I can't forbear telling you the d.u.c.h.ess has behaved very oddly in endeavouring to get the guardians.h.i.+p of the young Duke and his sister, contrary to her husband's will; but the boy, when he was fourteen, confirmed the trustees his grandfather left; so that ended all disputes; and Lady f.a.n.n.y is to live with my aunt Cheyne. There is a vast number of things that have happened, and some people's behaviour so extraordinary in this melancholy business, that it would be great ease of mind if I could tell it you; but I must not venture to speak too freely in a letter.”
A week or so later, some further details were forthcoming:
”I received yours, dear sister, this minute, and am very sorry both for your past illness and affliction; though _au bout du compte_, I don't know why filial piety should exceed fatherly fondness. So much by way of consolation. As to the management at that time--I do verily believe, if my good aunt and sister had been less fools, and my dear mother-in-law less mercenary, things might have had a turn more to your advantage and mine too; when we meet, I will tell you many circ.u.mstances which would be tedious in a letter. I could not get my sister Gower to join to act with me, and mamma and I were in an actual scold when my poor father expired; she has shewn a hardness of heart upon this occasion that would appear incredible to any body not capable of it themselves. The addition to her jointure is, one way or other, 2000 per annum; so her good Grace remains a pa.s.sable rich widow, and is already presented by the town with a variety of young husbands; but I believe her const.i.tution is not good enough to let her amorous inclinations get the better of her covetous.”
Lady Mary was very angry, because she heard that at the end her father had really expressed a great deal of kindness to her, and even a desire of talking to her, which the d.u.c.h.ess would not permit. However, he left her in his will, she having married without a settlement, 6,000 for her separate use during her life, with reversion to her daughter.
As regards the heir, she wrote: ”The Duke of Kingston has. .h.i.therto had so ill an education, 'tis hard to make any judgment of him; he has spirit, but I fear he will never have his father's good sense. As young n.o.blemen go, 'tis possible he may make a good figure among them.”
The young Duke was sent to France, and there was much discussion as to what should be done with his sister, Lady Frances Pierrepont. Her having 400 per annum for maintenance, has, Lady Mary remarked ironically, ”awakened the consciences of half her relations to take care of her education, and (excepting myself) they have all been squabbling about her. My sister Gower carries her off to-morrow morning to Staffords.h.i.+re.
The lies, twaddles, and contrivances about this affair are innumerable.
I should pity the poor girl if I saw she pitied herself.”
Lady Gower did not long enjoy her victory over her friends and her fond relations, for she died in June, 1727.
In May, 1732, Lord Mar died at Aix-la-Chapelle. Lady Mary's sister, Lady Mar, in later years suffered from mental irregularity. Her brother-in-law, James Erskine, Lord Grange, endeavoured to secure possession of her person by some process of law, but was thwarted by Lady Mary, who obtained a warrant from the King's Bench. For years Lady Mar remained in her sister's custody. She survived until 1761. There was a rumour that Lady Mary treated her badly, but there is no reason to believe that there was any substantial ground for the accusation.
Lady Mary's daughter, Mary, married in 1736, John Stuart, third Earl of Bute, the favourite of the Princess of Wales, and afterwards Prime Minister.
CHAPTER XIII
ON THE CONTINENT (1739-1744)
Lady Mary leaves England--She does not return for twenty years--Montagu supposed to join her--The domestic relations of the Montagus--A septennial act for marriage--Lady Mary corresponds with her husband--Dijon--Turin--Venice--Bologna--Florence--The Monastery of La Trappe--Horace Walpole at Florence--His comments on Lady Mary and her friends--Reasons for his dislike of her--Rome--The Young Pretender and Henry, Cardinal York--Wanderings--Cheapness of life in Italy--Lady Mary's son, Edward--He is a great trouble to his parents--His absurd marriage--His extravagance and folly--Account of his early years--He visits Lady Mary at Valence--Her account of the interviews.
In July, 1739, Lady Mary went abroad. She did not return until the beginning of 1762, a few months before her death.
She went abroad without her husband, and, indeed, they never met again.
At first, apparently, he had intended to join her--at least so she gave Lady Pomfret to understand:
”You have put me to a very difficult choice, yet, when I consider we are both in Italy, and yet do not see one another, I am astonished at the capriciousness of my fortune” (she wrote from Venice late in 1739). ”My affairs are so uncertain, I can answer for nothing that is future. I have taken some pains to put the inclination for travelling into Mr.
Wortley's head, and was so much afraid he would change his mind, that I hastened before him in order (at least) to secure my journey. He proposed following me in six weeks, his business requiring his presence at Newcastle. Since that, the change of scene that has happened in England has made his friends persuade him to attend parliament this session: so that what his inclinations, which must govern mine, will be next spring I cannot absolutely foresee. For my own part, I like my own situation so well that it will be a displeasure to me to change it. To postpone such a conversation as yours a whole twelvemonth is a terrible appearance; on the other hand, I would not follow the example of the first of our s.e.x, and sacrifice for a present pleasure a more lasting happiness. In short, I can determine nothing on this subject. When you are at Florence, we may debate it over again.”
So little is known of the domestic relations of the Montagus that it is hazardous to advance a conjecture. One writer has suggested that there was a quarrel over money, but there are no grounds to support this.
Another has it that Lady Mary's flirtations or intrigues did not meet with her husband's approval. Yet another thinks that Montagu found his wife with her sharp tongue, very ill to live with.
The Montagus had been married for seven-and-twenty years; their younger child was now twenty-one. Since Montagu a.s.sisted Lady Mary as a girl with her Latin studies, they do not seem to have had much in common.
Lady Mary cut a figure in the social world; Montagu was a nonent.i.ty in political life and seemed content so to be. Perhaps they were tired of each other, and welcomed a separation that at the outset was intended only to be temporary. ”It was from the customs of the Turks that I first had the thought of a septennial bill for the benefit of married persons,” Lady Mary once said to Joseph Spence; and it is more than likely that she would have taken advantage of such an Act of Parliament had it been in existence.