The blog isn't generally concerned with the lives of the aristocracy as there's plenty written about them anyway, but I like Billy Ponsonby.  On the surface of it, he was a typical aristocrat: a Whig politician, Lord of the Treasury and Admiralty, Postmaster General.  Born in 1704 to an Anglo-Irish family, he followed in his father's footsteps career-wise, and then in July 1739 married Caroline Cavendish, sixteen years his junior.  They had three children together (he was Caroline Lamb's grandfather through his eldest son), but Caroline died at 40.  Billy Ponsonby lived on until 1793, a familiar sight on London's streets, and also living in Parkstead House in Roehampton built in 1750 and now part of the University there.

After his wife died, Ponsonby pottered here and there, and was much involved with art and London artists (his portrait here is by Reynolds).  There is little to be known of him outside his political career, but a few small anecdotes about his character remain, and they paint a vivid picture of both a lonely widower, and a decent, approachable man. 

Joseph 'Little Nolly' Nollekens was widely held to be the finest sculptor of 18thC London, and a famous miser.  He had a dog called Daphne who was always thin and afflicted with mange, but the Earl of Besborough was 'so well-known to Nolleken's dog, that whenever the animal saw his Lordship's leg within the gate he (yes, I know, but dogs are regularly termed 'he' in 18thC London, unless they are referred to specifically as 'bitches') ceased barking, and immediately welcomed the visitor; who always brought a French roll in his blue great-coat-pocket, purposely for him, with which his Lordship took great pleasure in feeding him'.

Another little anecdote runs thus: 'His Lordship was once standing to see the workmen pull down the wooden railing and brick-work which surround the centre of Cavendish-square, when a sailor walked up to him and asked for a quid of tobacco: his Lordship answered, "My friend, I don't take tobacco." - "Don't you?" rejoined the sailor; "I wish you did, Master, for I have had not a bit of it to-day."  As he was turning away, his Lordship turned to him and said, "Here my friend, here is something that will enable you to buy tobacco," and gave him half a crown.'

In another instance of kindess, the Earl once noticed a woman in widow's weeds curtsey to him in the street.  She looked poor, 'but remarkably clean' and had two small children with her.  He stopped, turned back and gave her money, but in the transaction, the coins fell into the dirty kennel, or channel in the middle of the road.  Billy picked them up, cleaned them on his handkerchief, then handed them over to her.  But by far my favourite story relating to Billy Ponsonby comes again from the miser Nollekens, who ran a very successful studio where the Earl came to see the works in progress and pass some time.  Nollekens once asked his apprentices if they had noticed the Earl's diamond shoe-buckles.  The buckles had belonged to Billy's wife Caroline, and since her death he had 'worn them in common', meaning every day.