My Friends and Acquaintance
Lady Blessington V
V.
THE HABITUES OF SEAMORE PLACE AND GORE HOUSE.—THE COUNTESS
G——.—DUC AND DUCHESSE DE GUICHE.—BARON
D’HAUSSEZ.—COUNT D’ORSAY.—EMPEROR
LOUIS NAPOLEON.
In recalling to mind the remarkable persons I have met at the
house of Lady Blessington, the most celebrated is the
Countess G——, with whom Lady
Blessington became intimate after the death of Byron, and maintained a continued correspondence with her. Madame
G—— was still very handsome at the time I met her at Seamore Place—I think
in 1832-3; but she by no means gave me the impression of a person with whom
Byron would be likely to fall in love; and her conversation (for I
was specially introduced to her) was quite as little of a character to strike or interest a
man so little tolerant of the commonplaces of society as Byron. To see
and converse with the Countess G—— was, in fact, to be satisfied that
all Byron’s share in the passion which
has become so famous as
to render no excuse necessary for this allusion to it, was merely a passive permitting
himself to be loved—a condition of mind which, after all, is perhaps the happiest and most
salutary effect of woman’s love, upon men like Byron. And it
seems to have been specially so in Byron’s case; for the period
in which the G—— family lived under his roof was the only one in the
whole of his recorded career to which his friends and admirers can look back with feelings
even approaching to satisfaction and respect.
I remember calling on Lady Blessington
one day when she had just received a long letter from Madame
G——, a considerable portion of which she read to me, as being singularly
characteristic of Italian notions of the proprieties of social life.
The letter was written apropos to some strictures which had appeared in an English journal,
on the impropriety or immorality of the liaison between
Madame G—— and Byron, and on
the fact of the father and brother of the lady having resided in the same house with the
lovers. The peculiarity of Madame
G—— letter was the earnest, and at the same time perfectly naive and artless way in which she contended that the main point, of
the charge against her in the English journal was precisely that on which she rested her
entire exculpation from either sin or blame. And she went on to declare, in, the most
solemn manner, that she had never passed a night under Byron’s
roof that was not sanctioned by the presence of her father and
brother. She concluded by earnestly begging Lady Blessington
to defend her character from the attacks in question, on the special ground of the fact
just cited!
Among the other remarkable persons whom I met at Lady Blessington’s about this period were the Duc and
Duchesse de Guiche (now Duc
and Duchesse de Grammont) and the Baron d’Haussez; the two former the chief persons of
the household of Charles X. and his family, and the
latter one of his ministers at the period of the famous Ordonnance.
The Duchesse de Guiche was extremely
beautiful, and of that class of beauty the rarity of which in France makes it even
more esteemed than with us, where it is much less uncommon: a blonde,
with blue eyes, fair hair, a majestic figure, an exquisite complexion, and in manner the
model of a high-born and high-bred French woman. She is a daughter of the late General and Comtesse
D’Orsay.*
Baron D’Haussez, the Minister of Marine
* The late Duke de
Grammont was, during the reign of the Bourbons, a captain of one of
the companies of the Gardes du Corp, and Lieutenant-General. He did not appear to
have inherited any of that gaieté de cœur
and that happy spirit of social enjoyment which one naturally associates with the
name of Grammont. His air and deportment were grave almost to
severity; his manners and tone of mind were evidently tinctured by the sufferings
and cruelties that his family had endured during the first Revolution. Horace Walpole has drawn the character of his
mother, the Duchesse de Grammont, in no very favourable colours. Yet she displayed
a spirit and courage amounting to heroism when she was dragged before the bloody
tribunal of the Revolution. She was the sister of the famous Duc de Choiseul, and is believed to have exercised
more influence over him, during his ministry, than any of his contemporaries. The Duc de Guiche (now Duc de Grammont) served with distinction in the
English army in the Peninsula, as Captain in the 10th Hussars. He is a descendant
of la belle Corisande. |
of Charles X., gave one the idea
of anything but a minister of state. He was a plain, good-humoured, easy-going person, with
little of his country’s vivacity, much appearance of bonhommie, and altogether more English than French in manner and temperament.
Another of the more recent habitués of Gore House was Prince (now the Emperor) Louis Napoleon, who, after his elevation to power, treated
Lady Blessington with marked distinction, and whose
favour, together with her family connexion and long intimacy with several of the heads of
the oldest and noblest families of France, would, had she lived, have given to her a
position in the social circles of Paris even more brilliant than that which she had so long
held in London.
But by far the most remarkable person I was accustomed to meet at
Lady Blessington’s was the late Count D’Orsay, brother to the above-named Duchesse de
Guiche (now Duchesse de Grammont) and
uncle to the present Duc de Guiche.
This accomplished nobleman and gentleman, and truly distinguished man, was
for so long a period of his life “the observed of all
observers” in this country, that a brief Recollection of him will perhaps not
be thought inappropriate to these pages,—especially as I do not believe that any detailed
notice of him has been given to the world, either here or in his native country, France,
since his death.
It is a singular fact that many of the most remarkable men of recent
times—those men who have exercised the most extensive influence over the social, political,
and literary condition and institutions of the country to which they have attached
themselves—have been strangers to that country—foreigners in the strictest sense of the
phrase—in birth, in education, in physical temperament, in manners, in general tone and
turn of mind—in all things,—even in personal appearance. And this has been especially the
case in France. The most remarkable minister France ever had (Mazarin) was an Italian;—her two most remarkable writers, male and female,
Rousseau and De
Stael, were Genevese;—her most remarkable actor (Talma) was (by birth at least) an Englishman;—her most remarkable soldier,
statesman, and mo-
narch—not three, but one—was a Corsican;—and the consummate man who promises to be almost
as remarkable as his illustrious relative, and has already done nearly as much good to
France as he did, without any of the counterbalancing mischief, is
Corsican by his father’s side and Italian by his mother’s.
The remark is perhaps less true of England than of any other European
nation;—but this only makes it the more worthy of record that the most remarkable man of
that country, during an entire twenty years, so far as regards that important department of
a nation’s habits and institutions which affect the immediate well-being and personal
feelings of the great body of its cultivated classes—namely, the social condition and
manners of these classes—was a foreigner; and not only a foreigner, but a Frenchman-born,
educated, and bred up to manhood in that country between whose manners and modes of thought
and feeling, and those of England, there has ever been a greater amount of difference and
dissimilarity than between those of any other two civilized people under the sun. This fact
is no less
worthy of note by Frenchmen than it is by the denizens of
that nation for whose mingled amusement and information these sketches are more especially
intended; and it is no less creditable to one people than to the other;—to the one, for
having produced the all-accomplished person whose Portrait I am about to sketch;—to the
other, for having appreciated his remarkable qualities, and permitted them to exercise
their just and natural influence, in spite of the most rooted prejudices, and in the face
of other circumstances singularly adverse to the sort of influence in question.
It used to be the fashion in England to describe George the Fourth as “the finest gentleman in Europe;”
and the rest of the world seemed half inclined to admit the claim!—George the
Fourth,—who is now pretty generally allowed (even in England) to have been
little better, at his best, than a graceful and good-tempered voluptuary; a shallow egotist
while young, a heartless debauchee when old, and at all times, young or old, an exacting
yet faithless friend, a bitter and implacable enemy, a
harsh and
indifferent father, a cruel and tyrannical husband, and, as an occupant of the supreme
station to which he was called, only praiseworthy as having the good sense to bear in mind
that he was the ruler not of Russia but of England.
Such thirty years ago was England’s beau-ideal of that highest and
noblest phase of the human character, “a gentleman.” She has learned better
since, and it is by a Frenchman that the lesson has been taught her; and if now asked to
point to the finest gentleman Europe has known since the days of our own
Sidneys, Herberts,
Peterboroughs, &c., she would with one accord turn to no other
than the Count D’Orsay,—though he had nothing
better to show for the distinction than his perfect manner, his noble person, his varied
accomplishments, and his universal popularity, no less with his own sex than with that
which is best qualified to appreciate the character in question.
It was the singular good fortune of Count
D’Orsay—or rather let us call it his singular merit, for it has arisen
solely from the rare qualities and endowments of his mind
and heart—to
be the chosen friend and companion of the finest wits and the ripest and profoundest
scholars of his day, while all the idler portion of the world were looking to him merely as “The glass of fashion, and the mould of form.” |
He was the favourite associate, on terms of perfect intellectual equality, of a
Byron, a Bulwer,
and a Landor; and, at the same time, the oracle, in
dress and every other species of dandyism, of a Chesterfield, a Pembroke, and a
Wilton.
I have heard one of the most distinguished of English littérateurs declare that the most profound and enlightened remarks he ever met
with on the battle of Waterloo were contained in a familiar letter from the Count D’Orsay to one of his friends; and of this
there can be no dispute—that incomparably the finest effigies which have yet been produced
of the two heroes of that mighty contest are from the hand of Count
d’Orsay. His equestrian statues of Napoleon and Wellington, small as they
are, are admitted by all true judges to be among the finest works of art of modern times.
In the sister art, of painting, Count
D’Orsay’s successes were no less remarkable. His portrait of the
most intellectual Englishman of his time, Lord
Lyndhurst, is the most intellectual work of its class that has appeared since
the death of the late President of the Royal Academy; and there is scarcely a living
celebrity in the worlds of politics, of literature, of art, or of fashion, respectively, of
whom Count D’Orsay has not sketched the most characteristic
likeness extant. Most of these latter were confined to the portfolio of the late Lady Blessington, and are therefore only known to the
favoured habitués of Gore House. But as those habitués included all that was distinguished
in taste and dilettanti-ism, their fiat on such matters is final; and it is such as I have
described.*
But this “Admirable
Crichton” of the nineteenth century was, like his prototype just named, no
less remarkable for personal gifts and accomplishments than he was for those which are
usually attributed to intellectual qualities; though many of them
* Fac-similes of many of these portraits have been published by
Mitchell, Bond-street. |
depend more on bodily conformation than the pride of intellect will
allow us to admit. Count D’Orsay was one of
the very best riders in a country whose riders are admitted to be the best in the world; he
was one of the keenest and most accomplished sportsmen in a nation whose sporting supremacy
is the only undisputed one they possess; he was the best judge of a horse among a people of
horse-dealers and horse-jockeys; he was among the best cricketers in a country where all
are cricketers, and where alone that noblest of games exists; he was the best swimmer, the
best shot, the best swordsman, the best boxer, the best wrestler, the best tennis-player;
and he was admitted to be the best judge and umpire in all these amusements.
To crown his personal gifts and accomplishments, Count D’Orsay was incomparably the handsomest man of
his time; and, what is still more remarkable, he retained this distinction for
five-and-twenty years—uniting to a figure scarcely inferior in the perfection of its form
to that of the Apollo, a head and face that blended the grace and
dignity of the Antinous with the beaming
intellect of the younger Bacchus, and the almost feminine
softness and beauty of the Ganymede.
The position which Count
D’Orsay held in the haute
monde of London society, for more than twenty years, is such as was
rarely held, at any other time, by any other person in this country; and this in spite of
such peculiar and numerous disadvantages as no other man ever attempted to overcome, much
less succeeded. In the first place he was, as we have seen, a Frenchman born and bred; and
he never changed or repudiated the habits and manners of his native country, or in any way
warped or adapted them to those of the people among whom he had nevertheless become
naturalized. He spoke English with a strong French accent and idiom, and, I verily believe,
would not have got rid of these if he could; his tone of thinking and feeling, and all the
general habits of his mind, were French; the style of his dress, of his equipages, of his
personal appearance and bearing, were all essentially and eminently French.
In the next place, with tastes and personal
habits
magnificent and generous even to a fault, Count
D’Orsay was very far from being rich; consequently, at every step, he
was obliged to tread upon some of the shopkeeping prejudices of English life. Unlike most
of the denizens of this “nation of shopkeepers,” he very wisely looked
upon a tradesman as a being born to give credit, but who never does fulfil that part of his
calling if he can help it, except where he believes that it will conduct him, if not to
payment, at least to profit. The fashionable tradesmen of London knew that to be patronized
by Count D’Orsay was a fortune to them; and yet they had the
face to expect that he would pay their bills after they had run for a
“reasonable” period, whether it suited his convenience to do so or not! As if,
by rights, he ought to have paid them at all, or as if they ought
not to have paid him for showering fortune on them by his smile, if
it had not been that his honour would have forbidden such an arrangement, even with
“a nation of shopkeepers!” Nay, I believe they sometimes perpetrated
the mingled injustice and stupidity of invoking the law to their aid, and arresting him!
Shutting up within four walls the man whose going forth was the signal
for all the rest of the world to think of opening their purse-strings, to compass something
or other which they beheld in that mirror of all fashionable requirements! It was a little
fortune to his tiger to tell the would-be dandies dwelling north of Oxford-street where
D’Orsay bought his last new cab-horse, or who built his
tilbury or his coat; and yet it is said that his horse-dealer, his coachmaker, and his
tailor have been known to shut up from sight this type and model by which all the male
“nobility and gentry” of London horsed, equipaged, and attired themselves!
Another of the great disadvantages against which Count D’Orsay had to contend, during his whole life,
was the peculiarity of his social position. And these social disadvantages and anomalies
acted with tenfold force in a country where the pretences to moral purity are in an inverse
ratio to the practice. It will scarcely be disputed that London is, at this present
writing, not merely the most immoral, but the most openly and indecently immoral capital in
Europe. Things not only
happen every day in England, but are every day
recorded there for the amusement and information of the breakfast-tables where sit her
matrons and maidens, that not only do not and could not happen elsewhere, but could not be
put into words if they did. And yet in England it was that because Count
D’Orsay, while a mere boy, made the fatal mistake of marrying one
beautiful woman, while he was, without daring to
confess it even to himself, madly devoted to another still more beautiful, whom he could
not marry—because, I say, under these circumstances, and discovering his fatal error when
too late, he separated himself from his wife almost at the church door, he was, during the
greater part of his social career in England, cut off from the advantages of the more
fastidious portion of high female society by the indignant fiat of its heads and leaders.
And this was in England, where people who can afford it change wives with each other by Act
of Parliament, giving and receiving the estimated difference of the value of the article in
pounds sterling! And where such an arrangement does not necessarily
preclude even the female parties to it from enjoying the social privileges of their class,
and does not at all affect the males! In England!—where no married man in high life is
thought the worse of, or treated the worse, even by the female friends of his wife, for
being suspected of having a mistress or two. In England!—where every unmarried man in high
life is compelled to keep a mistress whether he likes it or not, unless he would put his
character in jeopardy!
If the explanation of this apparent anomaly in the case of Count D’Orsay be asked, all that can be replied is,
that his supposed conduct under the difficult circumstances in which he found himself was
not exactly selon les règles of English society.
Moreover, if he really did commit a breach of these rules (which, by the bye, half the
world, and they by no means the worst-informed half, did not believe), the scandal of a
tacit avowal of the breach was studiously and successfully avoided; which is a great
crime in England, where you may be as immoral as you please, provided
you show no signs of being ashamed of it.
I will conclude these Recollections of Count
D’Orsay by some characteristic remarks, from a letter given me by
Lady Blessington, relative to the Count’s
portrait of Lord Byron, which forms the frontispiece to
her “Conversations” with
the noble poet, and had previously appeared in the New
Monthly Magazine, where the “Conversations” were first published. As this is, I believe, the only passage
of Count D’Orsay’s writing that has ever been made public,
I shall give it in the original French.
“Le portrait de Lord Byron,
dans le dernier numéro du ‘New Monthly
Magazine,’ a attiré sur lui des attaques sans nombre—et pourquoi?
Parcequ’il ne coïncide pas exactement avec les idées exagérées de MM. les
Romantiques, qui finiront, je pense, par faire de Thomas
Moore un géant, pourvu qu’ils restent quelque temps sans le voir.
Il est difficile, je pense, de satisfaire le public, surtout lorsqu’il est décidé
à ne croire un portrait ressemblant qu’autant qu’il rivalise d’ex-
agération avec l’idée qu’il se forme d’un sujet;
et si jusqu’à ce jour les portraits publiés de Lord Byron
sont passés sains et saufs d’attaque, c’est que l’artiste ne
s’étoit attaché qu’à faire un beau tableau, auquel son sujet ne ressembloit
qu’un peu. Redresser l’esprit du public sur la réelle apparence de
Lord Byron est sans contredit plus difficile à faire,
qu’à prouver que le meilleur compliment que sa mémoire ait reçue, est la
conviction intime que l’on a, qu’il devoit être d’un beau idéal, pour
marcher de front avec ses ouvrages; ainsi rien moins qu’une perfection
n’est capable de satisfaire le public littéraire. Il n’en est pas moins
vrai que les deux seuls portraits véridiques de Lord Byron
présentés jusqu’à ce jour au public, sont celui en tête de l’ouvrage de
Leigh Hunt, et celui du ‘New Monthly.’ Qu’ils satisfassent, ou non, la présente
génération d’enthousiastes, peu importe, car trop généralement elle est influencé
par des motifs secondaires. On trouve dans ce moment des parents de Lord
Byron qui se gendarment à l’idée, qu’on le decrive montant à
cheval avec une veste de nankin brodé et des guêtres; et qui ne peuvent digérer qu’il soit représenté très maigre, lorsqu’il est plus
que prouvé, que personne n’étoit aussi maigre que lui en 1823 à Gênes. Le fait
est qu’il paroit qu’au lieu de regarder les poètes avec les yeux, il faut
pour le moins des verres grossissants, ou des prismes si particuliers qu’on
auroit de la peine à se les procurer. C’est pour cette raison qu’il est
probable que l’auteur de l’Esquisse regrette de s’en être rapporté à
ses propres yeux, et d’avoir satisfait toutes les connoissances présentes de
Lord Byron, qui ont alors si maladroitement intercédés pour la
publication de cette triste et infortunée esquisse, qui rend le ‘Court Journal’ et tant d’autres
inconsolables.”
Lady Blessington died suddenly at Paris on June 4,
1849, while in the (supposed) enjoyment of her usual health and spirits. She had dined, the
day before, with her friend the Duchesse de Grammont,
and a few days previously with Prince Louis Napoleon
at the Elysée Bourbon.
Feeling unwell on the morning of the day
of her death,
she sent for a physician, who was a homœopathist, and as her attack was one which demanded
instant and vigorous measures, she was, like poor Malibran under similar circumstances, lost to that world to which she had
administered so much pleasure and instruction. Only two or three days before her death, she
had completed the furnishing of her new residence (Rue du Cercle), and had removed into it,
and all the gay world of Paris were looking with anxiety for the commencement of her
reunions.
The following list comprises, I believe, the whole of Lady Blessington’s published writings, with the
exception of Magazine Papers, and her contributions to her own annuals, the “Keepsake” and the “Book of Beauty:”
“The Magic
Lantern,” “A Tour in
the Netherlands,” “Desultory Thoughts,” “The
Idler in Italy,” “The Idler
in France,” “Conversations with Lord Byron,” “The Confessions of an Elderly Lady,” “The Confessions of an Elderly
Gentleman,” “The
Governess,” “Grace Cassidy,” “The Two Friends,” “The Victims of Society,” “Meredith,” “The Lottery of Life,” “The Belle of a Season,” and “Strathern.” Several of the latter works are
novels in three volumes.
King Charles I of England (1600-1649)
The son of James VI and I; as king of England (1625-1649) he contended with Parliament;
he was revered as a martyr after his execution.
Charles X, King of France (1757-1836)
He was King of France 1824-1830 succeeding Louis XVIII; upon his abdication he was
succeeded by Louis Philippe, duc d'Orléans.
John Singleton Copley, baron Lyndhurst (1772-1863)
The son of the American painter; he did legal work for John Murray before succeeding Lord
Eldon as lord chancellor (1827-30, 1834-35, 1841-46); a skilled lawyer, he was also a
political chameleon.
Count Alfred Guillaume Gabriel D'Orsay (1801-1852)
The son of Albert, Count D'Orsay, of one of Napoleon's generals; he was a celebrated
dandy and artist whose attachment to the Countess of Blessington aroused scandal.
Lady Harriet Anne Jane Frances D'Orsay [née Gardiner] (1812-1869)
The daughter of Lord Blessington and Mary Campbell McDougall; married in 1827 at the age
of fifteen to Count D'Orsay, she separated from him in 1831 and lived on her Irish
properties. In 1852 she married Charles Spencer Cowper, son of the fifth earl
Cowper.
Marguerite Gardiner, countess of Blessington [née Power] (1789-1849)
After a separation from a first husband in 1818 she married the Earl of Blessington; they
traveled on the Continent, meeting Byron in 1822; her best-known work,
Journal of Conversations with Lord Byron, originally appeared in the
New Monthly Magazine (1832-33).
Albert Gaspard Grimod (1772-1843)
The son of Pierre Gaspard, comte d'Orsay (1748–1809); he served as a general in
Napoleon's army (1813) and was the father of the dandy and painter Alfred, Count
d'Orsay.
Eleanore Grimod [née Franquemont] (d. 1829)
The illegitimate daughter of Karl II Eugen Herzog von Württemberg; in 1799 she became the
second wife of Albert Gaspard Grimod, Count D'Orsay; she was the mother of Lady
Blessington's Count D'Orsay.
Teresa Guiccioli (1800-1873)
Byron's lover, who in 1818 married Alessandro Guiccioli. She composed a memoir of Byron,
Lord Byron,
Jugé par les Témoines de sa Vie (1868).
Robert Henry Herbert, twelfth earl of Pembroke (1791-1862)
The son of the eleventh earl (d. 1827); he was educated at Harrow, married a Sicilian
princess, and after the marriage was annulled lived in state in Paris while his younger
brother managed the Wilton estates.
James Henry Leigh Hunt (1784-1859)
English poet, journalist, and man of letters; editor of
The
Examiner and
The Liberal; friend of Byron, Keats, and
Shelley.
Walter Savage Landor (1775-1864)
English poet and man of letters, author of the epic
Gebir (1798)
and
Imaginary Conversations (1824-29). He resided in Italy from 1815
to 1835.
Maria Felicia Malibran (1808-1836)
Born in Paris; opera singer who made her debut in London in 1825 performing in Rossini's
Barber of Seville; she died of a riding accident in
Manchester.
Cardinal Jules Mazarin (1602-1661)
Italian cardinal, the protegé of Richelieu and chief minister of Louis XIV.
Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
Irish poet and biographer, author of the
Irish Melodies (1807-34),
The Fudge Family in Paris (1818), and
Lalla
Rookh (1817); he was Byron's close friend and designated biographer.
Emperor Napoleon I (1769-1821)
Military leader, First Consul (1799), and Emperor of the French (1804), after his
abdication he was exiled to Elba (1814); after his defeat at Waterloo he was exiled to St.
Helena (1815).
Emperor Louis Napoleon (1808-1873)
Son of Louis Bonaparte, king of Holland; he was emperor of France (1852-70).
Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778)
Swiss-born man of letters; author of, among others,
Julie ou la
Nouvelle Heloïse (1761),
Émile (1762) and
Les Confessions (1782).
Germaine de Staël (1766-1817)
French woman of letters; author of the novel
Corinne, ou L'Italie
(1807) and
De l'Allemagne (1811); banned from Paris by Napoleon, she
spent her later years living in Germany, Britain, and Switzerland.
François-Joseph Talma (1763-1826)
French tragic actor and reformer of the stage who was admired by Napoleon.
The Book of Beauty. (London: Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1833-1849). A literary annual edited by Letitia Landon and the Countess of Blessington.
The Keepsake. 30 vols (London: Hurst, Chance and Co., 1828-1857). An illustrated annual edited by William Harrison Ainsworth (1828), Frederic Mansel
Reynolds (1829-35), and Caroline Norton (1836).
New Monthly Magazine. (1814-1884). Founded in reaction to the radically-inclined
Monthly Magazine,
the
New Monthly was managed under the proprietorship of Henry
Colburn from 1814 to 1845. It was edited by Thomas Campbell and Cyrus Redding from
1821-1830.