Adriana Spencer

From 'The Chaplin and Skinner Families' page 49 :

Mrs. Adriana Nugent survived her husband, Colonel Nugent, by a few years, and died on the 6th August, 1839. Her granddaughter, Mrs. M. A. Chaplin, in her 'Memoir' frequently refers to her, eg:

"We all dined at my grandfather's. I was dressed in a silk dress colour eau de nil, which I did not think very pretty, but was consoled with a pink sash to be worn with it. Eau de nil was called the fashionable colour; I bore this in mind in case my schoolfellows should find fault with it. But I did not have to wait for their disapproval. My grandmother: "What an unbecoming dress!" But worse than that, it was painfully tight in the waist. I bore it through dinner, then slipped away to find the servant to pin it in some way; in fact, the grand French dress was rather a failure. The façon, too, was to English eyes peculiar; so was my walking-out toilet, but I do not remember what it was. Then came the Christmas holidays and Christmas parties. The best party we went to was at a Mr. Ottley's on Twelfth Night. There might have been about 100 there, of various ages. I.well remember seeing Sir Thomas Lawrence as he was talking to my mother, and asked her, pointing to Edward, if she knew who that boy was. "He has a fine head." I had always thought his head was like some statue I had seen.

These Ottleys were a West Indian family. We used to hear them pitied for having lost so much by the abolition of slavery in the West Indies, but as they lived in a nice house in the Regent's Park, kept one or two men servants (black), and about three or four females, I wondered why my grandfather called him "poor Ottley." It was explained to me how they had formerly kept horses, carriages, and many niggers. We knew about five West Indian families, and I enjoyed spending the day at their houses. They were nice, kind people, and spoke pleasantly to their servants, though I saw Mrs. Ottley box the young nurse's ears for being very lazy, as she certainly was. I saw her often sitting on the floor enjoying her dolce par niente, looking so happy, staring at us and listening to us in a vacant way. Then there was another West India household, the females (mother and her sister) were almost black; they were not visited. There were two daughters who were not so dark; one of them sang beautifully. It was allowed to go and see them, and I very much enjoyed seeing the, to me, novel interior. The peculiar talk and accent of the mamma and aunt, their queer dresses, a sort of striped calico, loose jacket, and coloured cotton handkerchief like a turban on their heads. They gave me cakes. There was always a smell of cooking in that house. The young ladies were always well dressed. My grandmother was good-natured and noticed them, but I never met them at any other West Indian house. The other families, I believe, were quite white and highly educated. Altogether I rather preferred the West to the East Indian friends or acquaintances. They did not criticise me, and made me feel more at home with them. My grandmother approved of slavery on Biblical authority, would not believe they were ever treated cruelly, though she must have known they were as a fact. I heard of Mr. Someone, who put his slave down a well. Ottley had a fine collection of pictures. His brother wrote the History of Engraving. Our friends were remarkably musical."

And, after her father's death:

"It did not seem strange to me then that my grandmother was not the consoler of her only daughter, but I heard years after that she never was fondly attached to her. My grandmother was a pleasant, lively little woman; my mother was more serious and earnest, like her father, and was more his companion than was her mother. She did not take the deep interest in the children that he did. She was very fond of Edward, however, and was generally kind to us."