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 12 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 LADY BLESSINGTON
 
 I^K 
 
 0B> 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON 
 From the Portrait by Sir TTiemas Lawrence
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 2 
 LflDY BLESSINGTON 
 
 J. FITZGERALD MOLLOY. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 'COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS,' 'THE LIFE 
 
 AND ADVENTURES OF I'EG WOFFIXGTON,' ' THE LIFE 
 
 AND ADVENTURES OF EDMUND KEAN,' 'ROYALTY RESTORED, 
 
 OR LONDON UNDER CHARLES II.,' 'FAMOUS PLAYS,' 'THE FAITHS 
 
 OF THE PEOPLES.' ETC. 
 
 WITH A PORTRAIT OF LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
 DOWNEY & CO. 
 
 12 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON 
 1896
 
 \f* I
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 An Irish Squireen A Sensitive Child The Joy of 
 being Understood Dreams The Desmonds Them- 
 selves Wild Times Rebel Hunting Tragedy 
 A Domestic Tyrant Suitors Twain Proposals 
 Forced to Marry Misery Frenzy Escape The 
 Prelude of Her Life .... page i 
 
 CHAPTER I I 
 
 An Unprotected Wife An Unhappy House A Hateful 
 Position Lord Blessington appears upon the 
 Scene A Tragedy in the Fleet Freedom and 
 Marriage An Irish Welcome The Mansion in St 
 James's Square .... .30 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 Lord Byron A Hero of Romance and an Object of 
 Hatred Storm in the Social Atmosphere In 
 Venice The Rosiest Romance of His Life A 
 Bride of Sixteen Inexorable Fate In Ravenna 
 A Poet's Love-Letter A Philosophic Husband 
 Count Guiccioli becomes Uncivil Strife and Separa- 
 tion Byron is summoned A Common Disturber 
 In Pisa A Ghost-Haunted Palace Banishment 
 A New Residence sought The Villa at Albaro 
 Lady Blessington's Hopes Lines written in Her 
 Diary . . 68
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Lord Blessington visits Byron The Poet and the 
 Countess -First Impressions Personal Appear- 
 ance His English Visitors Reference to His 
 Child A Pleasant Talk Flippant Manner Count 
 D'Orsay's Diary Dining with the Blessingtons His 
 Desire to grow Thin Death of Lord Blessington's 
 Heir Lord Byron's Sympathy His Expedition to 
 Greece Melancholy Presentiments His Super- 
 stitions Impromptu Lines Farewell . page 93 
 
 C HAPTER V 
 
 First Sight of Naples The City Crowds A Magnificent 
 Palace Entertaining Sir William Cell My Lord's 
 Extravagance The Building of a Fairy Palace 
 Lord Blessington returns to Italy Travelling in 
 Former Times The Inn at Borghetto Life in the 
 Palazzo Belvedere Young Mathews as a Mimic 
 Amateur Theatricals Above the Bay . . 1 34 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Byron starts for Greece An Inauspicious Day Storm 
 and Danger A Desolate Place In Missolonghi 
 Byron's Illness and Death Tidings reach the 
 Palazzo Belvedere Leaving Naples Residence in 
 Florence Lamartine and Landor An Original 
 Character An Eventful Life Lander's Friendship 
 with Lady Blessington Mutual Admiration . 169 
 
 CHAPTER VI I 
 
 Landor and Lord Blessington sail for Naples Lander's 
 Delight in the Bay His Impetuosity The Bless- 
 ingtons leave Florence The Palazzo Negroni at 
 Rome Attending a Bal Masque Fallen Kings
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 and Queens The Mother of Napoleon Countess 
 Guiccioli Byron's Will Lord Blessington's Will 
 Count D'Orsay's Marriage Letter to Landor Once 
 more in Genoa The Story of Teresina Lord 
 Blessington's Gift ..... page 203 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Hotel Marechal Ney The Most Gallant of all Gal- 
 lant Husbands A Round of Gaiety Mrs Purves 
 marries Letters from Tom Moore Lord Rosslyn's 
 Request Death of Lord Blessington Letters from 
 Landor Lady Blessington's Grief First Breath of 
 Scandal The Age and its Infamous Editor Instruc- 
 tions to prosecute Letters to Sympathisers . 229 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 In St James's Square Removal to Seamore Place 
 Splendour of Lady Blessington's Home Distin- 
 guished Guests D'Orsay the Leader of Dandies 
 Courted by all His Neglected Wife Separation 
 Lady Harriet's Friendship with Royalty Scandal 
 A Brave Show Lady Blessington's Letters . 267
 
 PREFACE 
 
 STRANGE as the statement may seem, 
 it is not less true that no luminous 
 biography of Lady Blessington has been 
 written : strange because her life pre- 
 sents in itself a romance such as facts 
 seldom contain or combine ; such as 
 Fate denies to ordinary mortals. 
 
 Virtue and happiness, beautiful and 
 enviable as they are, afford meagre 
 material for memoirs. It is they whose 
 swift - stirred sympathies and longings 
 for happiness carry them beyond the 
 pale of the commonplace and the bonds
 
 PREFACE 
 
 of conventionality, whose loves are ill- 
 starred and whose lives are shadowed ; 
 they who strive and suffer, who aspire 
 and falter, who possess and present 
 studies that move and fascinate us. 
 Their heart histories appeal from out 
 the past for green places in our 
 memories. 
 
 Of such was the gifted and beautiful 
 Irishwoman 'the most gorgeous Lady 
 Blessington ' as she was styled by Dr 
 Parr, and as she was known to her in- 
 timates whose biography is here written 
 with an admiration that borders on 
 affection, and with that sympathy which 
 sorrow solicits. 
 
 In writing the opening sentence the 
 fact has not been overlooked that some 
 fifty years ago ' A Memoir of the Literary- 
 Life and Correspondence of the Countess 
 of Blessington ' was written by Dr 
 Madden, who for years had enjoyed her
 
 PREFACE 
 
 acquaintance, and into whose possession 
 some of her correspondence passed after 
 her death. 
 
 The production of this Life of my Lady 
 Blessington is partly due to the fact 
 that the writer has been kindly permitted 
 to make use of the six volumes in Mr 
 Morrison's possession of letters addressed 
 by the leading men and women of the 
 day in literature, art and society to the 
 Countess, or written by herself. Here 
 are published for the first time letters 
 or parts of letters which Disraeli, Dickens, 
 Landor, Barry Cornwall, Marryat, Mac- 
 ready, Lord Lytton and others addressed 
 to her. 
 
 The letters given here are not pitch- 
 forked into the pages irrespective of 
 what has gone before, or of what remains 
 behind ; but are introduced to illustrate 
 a character, to strengthen statements, oc- 
 casionally to enlarge a view. Frequently
 
 PREFACE 
 
 the information contained in the corre- 
 spondence is embodied in the memoir 
 without reference to their writers, lest 
 such might break the even flow of the 
 narrative. 
 
 For much valuable information the 
 writer is likewise indebted to manuscripts 
 found in the archives of the British 
 Museum Library ; to biographies, lives, 
 and letters of the contemporaries of the 
 Countess who came within the circle 
 and felt the charm of her influence ; and 
 to the verbal descriptions of two friends 
 who knowing her history appreciated her 
 worth. 
 
 That the same appreciation and charm 
 may be felt by those who here read 
 this record of Lady Blessington's life, 
 is a satisfaction which the writer wishes 
 to one and all, his critics included. 
 
 J. FITZGERALD MOLLOY.
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 An Irish Squireen A Sensitive Child the Joy 
 of being Understood Dreams The Desmonds 
 Themselves Wild Times Rebel Hunting 
 Tragedy A Domestic Tyrant Suitor's Twain 
 Proposals Forced to Marry Misery Frenzy 
 Escape The Prelude of Her Life. 
 
 MORE than a century has passed since a child 
 was born into the world whose strange and 
 changeful career from its bitter beginning 
 even to its close, could count as experiences, 
 reversals of fortune, phases of mystery, in- 
 felicity [of marriage, and the passion of love ; 
 these rich elements of romance that lend 
 fascination to reality. This child, born on 
 the first day of September 1789 at Knockbrit 
 
 VOL. I. I A
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 near Clonmel in the county of Tipperary in 
 Ireland, was christened Margaret Power. Her 
 father Edmund Power an Irish squireen was 
 the descendant of an ancient family residing 
 in the adjacent county of Waterford ; whilst 
 her mother a County Limerick woman, de- 
 lighted to trace her descent from Maurice 
 first Earl of Desmond, and to enumerate 
 for the benefit of her children and her 
 neighbours the great and noble houses with 
 which her family was connected. 
 
 Edmund Power was a man whose high 
 spirit not infrequently led him into violence ; 
 whose love of sport caused him to neglect such 
 merely mercenary matters as the cultivation of 
 his property; whose desire to entertain and 
 whose love of display, drifted him into debt and 
 difficulties, after the fashion of his kind in the 
 days in which he dwelt. Tall straight-built 
 and handsome, florid of face, peremptory of 
 speech, he dressed in leather breeches and top 
 boots, wore white cravats, frills, ruffles, and 
 top seals, which costume helped to give him 
 a showy and impressive appearance, and to
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 gain for him amongst his fellow squires the 
 names of Beau Power, and Shiver the Frills. 
 His wife whom he had married early in life 
 seems to have been an inactive woman, too 
 weak to influence her husband or avert his 
 ruin ; and too much absorbed in the glories of 
 ' me ancestors the Desmonds ' to enter into 
 the inner lives of her children, of whom 
 she bore six. 
 
 Margaret the third of these, if not quite 
 overlooked was little cared for in her child- 
 hood. Extremely delicate, nervous, and ex- 
 cessively sensitive, she sat apart, silent and 
 pale-faced whilst her robust brothers and 
 sisters romped, played, and teased her for not 
 joining in their sports : she, being all unlike them 
 physically as well as mentally : for whilst they 
 were remarkably handsome, she was considered 
 comparatively plain. During the time she 
 remained apart from their joyous company, 
 her mind the strange mysterious kingdom 
 of a child's mind, which can only be entered 
 into by those possessing the passport of 
 sympathy was receiving impressions, think-
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 ing out ideas, perceiving facts which when 
 put into words led her nurse to consider her 
 uncanny, perhaps a changling, and confirmed 
 the general impression that one so sad of 
 manner whilst yet so young, so weak in body 
 and with such wistful eyes, could not live 
 long. 
 
 With age she gained strength, but her 
 characteristics remained ; and the quaint specu- 
 lative questions she asked, the occasional 
 gleams of insight she showed, the comments 
 she passed, which previously had only excited 
 ridicule, now attracted to the shy child the atten- 
 tion of a friend of the family, Miss Anne Dwyer, 
 a voluble-tongued, kind-hearted woman, with 
 great natural though uncultivated gifts, whose 
 vivacity and repartee led her to be regarded as 
 a person of ability by those incapable of judg- 
 ing her talents. She was sympathetic and 
 clever enough to see that Margaret was in 
 no ways understood by those around her, 
 and generous enough to devote herself to this 
 lonely child in whose nature great qualities 
 possibly lay dormant. Therefore the latter
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 was encouraged to make those inquiries which 
 formerly had produced only laughter, but 
 which now were answered with all the clear- 
 ness and ability that Anne Dwyer possessed. 
 
 The joy which the poor child found in 
 being understood was pathetic ; a hand had 
 been held out to her in solitude, to which 
 she eagerly clung, and she was prepared to 
 learn whatever lessons her instructress pro- 
 posed, and to lay bare her mind to one so 
 capable of satisfying its demands. One day 
 the pupil asked where her teacher had gained 
 her knowledge, and when answered it was 
 from books, Margaret developed a passion 
 for reading which increased with years and 
 continued through life. A faculty she had 
 always possessed now began to show itself, 
 when her vivid imagination conjured up scenes, 
 peoples, and events, at first for the benefit 
 of her brothers and sisters who loved strange 
 tales, but afterwards for the entertainment 
 of her parents' guests ; for her father and 
 mother being first astonished, soon grew inter- 
 ested in her powers of story-telling. 
 5
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Now Edmund Power's property which at 
 one time had brought him fifteen hundred a 
 
 year, became through neglect and increasing 
 
 
 debt of less and less value. But so long 
 
 as he could have dogs and hunters, and 
 enjoy wine and revelry, the world went well 
 with him and he was content to put off till 
 to-morrow such unpleasant considerations as 
 tradesmen's bills and obtruding bailiffs. The 
 day came however when such sinister sights 
 could no longer be shut out, and he was 
 obliged to leave Knockbrit and take up his 
 residence in Clonmel, when, though retain- 
 ing some part of his property, he entered 
 into partnership as a corn merchant and 
 butter buyer with Messrs Hunt & O'Brien 
 whose business premises were in the neigh- 
 bouring city of Waterford. 
 
 To the inexperienced change is ever de- 
 lightful, and the removal of the family was 
 hailed with pleasure by the children with the 
 exception of Margaret, who looked forward 
 with sad foreboding to leaving the place she 
 had peopled with her dreams ; the country
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 with its distant hills on whose blue heights 
 bonfires flamed against the black on the Eves 
 of St James and St John ; the far fields where 
 under the sleeping moonlight, hand in hand 
 in circles weird, fairies danced around rings, 
 their sportive figures aerial as the violet shadows 
 from which they sprang ; the lanes down 
 which the gracious knight who sought her 
 all the world o'er, one day would come : 
 the desolate moors across which the headless 
 horseman strove to outride the winds on winter 
 nights ; and the dark river by which the blanch- 
 robed banshee was seen to walk. None of 
 these things were to be found in a town whose 
 streets and shops and peoples were less dear 
 and sacred to her than the scenes over 
 which she had roamed uncontrolled, a silent 
 self-communing child, solitary save for the 
 luminous dreams that lighted the world 
 round. 
 
 But her feelings on this point as on others 
 were not entered into by her family, and 
 stealing from them on the last evening of 
 their stay under the old home roof, she a 
 
 7
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 sad and lonely figure moving through the 
 thickening grey, walked to the spots which 
 association and memories had made sweet to 
 her, to bid them all farewell ; conscious possi- 
 bly that some link uniting the past and 
 the future, was being snapped in the chain 
 of her life ; a chain which time could never 
 unite, bring the years what they would. On 
 her return, stealthy and timid, she carried with 
 her a few wild flowers for remembrance, and 
 with an intuition which teaches that what is 
 sacred to oneself should be hidden from all, she 
 thrust them into her pocket from which only 
 when alone was she to release and carry 
 them to her lips. 
 
 The small and incommodious house into 
 which they moved, stood near an old stone 
 bridge that joined the counties of Clonmel and 
 Waterford, at a place called Suir Island. Here 
 soon after their arrival occurred a little scene 
 which vignette like, illustrates the character 
 of Margaret and the lack of understand- 
 ing shown by her family. Whilst Mrs Power 
 
 received some friends who were admiring 
 8
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 the other children for their strength and 
 beauty, Margaret who had no share in the 
 general praise stood silently by, eagerly listen- 
 ing, and hardly observed until one of the 
 circle turning towards her said, ' Come here 
 my dear and show me what you have bulging 
 in your pocket.' 
 
 Margaret, confused and nervous, refused to 
 stir until her mother beckoned her, when 
 blushing because of the notice she attracted, 
 and fearful of its result, she crossed the room 
 when the contents of her pocket, the flowers 
 she had gathered in Knockbrit were brought 
 to light amidst much laughter, and contemptu- 
 ously flung out of the window. On this 
 the child burst into a passion of tears she 
 could no longer keep back, when she was 
 sternly reproved for being foolish and ill- 
 tempered. 
 
 The change which was made about the 
 year 1797 must have been galling to a poor 
 proud lady who was ' a real descendant of the 
 Desmonds themselves,' as well as to the squireen 
 husband whose ancestors ' had never dirtied 
 9
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 their hands by earning a penny piece.' The 
 change however had its compensations, for 
 the business in which he had become a partner 
 prospered greatly, and promised to restore his 
 fortunes and secure independence to his 
 children. 
 
 Unhappily this state of affairs did not con- 
 tinue long, for in an evil hour he listened to 
 a proposal, the acceptance of which brought 
 about his ruin. This proposal made by Lord 
 Donoughmore was that Edmund Power should 
 become a magistrate for the counties of 
 Tipperary and Waterford. The social distinc- 
 tion which this situation offered was one to 
 comfort and flatter Beau Power, now lowered 
 in his dignity and wounded in his pride. Once 
 more the squireen might hold his head high, 
 might hunt with and entertain the military 
 and the county families, and become a person 
 to be feared and flattered by the coerced and 
 terror-stricken people. That no salary or 
 other reward was attached to the office seemed 
 no drawback to its acceptance, and was a 
 matter this fine gentleman would regard as
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 beneath his consideration : on the other hand 
 promises were held out by his lordship, then 
 a person of influence at the Castle, of a lucrative 
 post for services rendered the government, and 
 even hints of a baronetcy were not withheld 
 from him. Power gladly accepted the offer 
 though it involved a change of his religion : 
 for he had been born and bred a Catholic 
 and until now had nominally belonged to the 
 church whose members were considered in- 
 eligible for the magistracy. He therefore 
 conformed to the Protestant religion, an act 
 regarded with abhorrence by his family and 
 friends ; and so long and no longer as there 
 remained a chance of his receiving the promised 
 rewards from his patron, did he continue to 
 profess that faith. 
 
 To understand the duties a magistrate was 
 then called on to perform, and the manner 
 in which he carried them out, it is necessary 
 to bear in mind the state of the times. Long 
 suffering from distress and discontent, Ireland 
 was now seething with rebellion. The United 
 Irishmen founded by Wolfe Tone in 1791 with
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 the object of forcing the government to relax 
 the terrible severity of the laws which oppressed 
 the people, and if necessary to invite French 
 aid towards helping them to liberty, had 
 become a secret society which numbered half 
 a million members. Not only were their meet- 
 ings prohibited, but the local magistrates in 
 whose hands the execution of the most vigorous 
 measures were entirely left, were empowered 
 to send all persons suspected of belonging to 
 the movement into the navy : to search houses 
 for arms : and to treat as culprits all who should 
 be absent from their homes without a satis- 
 factory cause after a certain hour in the even- 
 ing. The magistrates in their search for 
 Insurgents were accompanied by the military 
 who practised horrible outrages ; sometimes, 
 under the pretext that arms were concealed in 
 them, houses were plundered and burned and 
 their inhabitants subjected to torture by way 
 of forcing a confession. In October 1796 the 
 Habeas Corpus Act w r as suspended; and all Ire- 
 land was proclaimed under martial law in March 
 1798, in which year the rebellion broke out.
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 A fearless horseman and a determined enemy 
 of rebels, Power rode at night through the 
 terrorised country whose black and mournful 
 silence was broken only by the clattering troop 
 of dragoons following him ; seizing upon all 
 chance wayfarers, searching suspected houses, 
 and striking terror into the hearts of peasants 
 in the darkness of their cabins ; whilst by day 
 the severity of his punishments caused him 
 to be the dread and the curse of the unfortunate 
 men brought before him. As a consequence 
 the friends of those wronged by his tyranny, 
 burned his corn stores, killed his cattle, and 
 destroyed his crops, and his partners after 
 many attempts, at last succeeded in getting 
 rid of so obnoxious a person. In return for 
 these misfortunes he received letters from the 
 Castle acknowledging his services and praising 
 his zeal, and on presenting himself at the vice- 
 regal court, he was shown gratifying marks 
 of attention, and given fresh promises of reward 
 which might have been kept had not his office, 
 as a magistrate been abruptly ended by an 
 act which throws a lurid light upon these 
 '3
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 troubled times, and illustrates the character of 
 this man. 
 
 It happened one April evening that a young 
 farm labourer, named John Lonnergan, the son 
 of a widow, was in his cabin when he proposed 
 to take to a neighbouring forge a pitchfork 
 which had been broken. 
 
 'Johnnie dear it's too late to go' said the 
 widow ' maybe its Power and the soldiers 
 you'd be meeting.' 
 
 ' Never mind mother ' answered the lad 
 'sure I'll only leave it and hurry back; you 
 know I can't do without it to-morrow : ' and 
 away he went light-heartedly to meet his fate. 
 
 He had not gone a mile from his home when 
 he caught the quick clatter of hoofs on the 
 narrow road and looking behind saw through 
 the gathering grey of this spring evening, the 
 man who was the terror of the country, riding 
 at a furious rate, and followed by two others. 
 The lad in his fright jumped over a ditch and 
 ran through the adjoining fields, seeing which 
 Power who was probably far from sober, be- 
 lieved he had discovered a rebel, called out to,
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 and then fired at him, when he fell covered 
 with blood. At sound of the report, a woman 
 named Bridget Hannan rushed to the spot 
 where she saw Power standing on a ditch, a 
 smoking gun in his hand, who said he would 
 shoot her if she came any further. Lonnergan 
 who was still living but quite insensible, was 
 taken and flung on horseback behind Power's 
 servant to whom he was strapped, when the 
 party rode into Clonmel and in the first in- 
 stance turned into the stableyard of the 
 magistrate whose family startled to attention 
 by his oaths, hurried to the windows to 'see a 
 lad apparently dead, his head sunk upon his 
 breast, his clothes steeped with blood, his limbs 
 hanging powerless from the horse on which he 
 was held. In this condition he was taken to 
 the court house or jail where the blood by that 
 time being well nigh drained from his veins, he 
 survived only a few hours; his body smeared 
 and stark, being then hung up for exhibition 
 above the grim gateway of the old stone 
 building, that the people might be warned by 
 the ghastly sight from all tendencies to rebel. 
 15
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Now the widow having watched through the 
 lonely night for the return of her son, went in 
 the soft flush of early morning to make 
 inquiries for him at the forge, where he had 
 not been seen nor heard of; and from there 
 she walked into Clonmel, anxious and weary, 
 hoping and fearing, but no trace of him could 
 she find until in passing the jail she was 
 attracted by sight of that at which a mournful 
 crowd was silently gazing. One glance told 
 her mother's heart what it was, when with a 
 piercing shriek she fell to the ground. 
 Presently when she recovered consciousness 
 and had learned how it was her ' Johnnie dear ' 
 had been taken from her, she knelt upon the 
 rough pavement in front of that ghastly figure, 
 and with all the fervour and eloquence of her 
 race, cursed his murderer. 
 
 It is probable that no notice would have 
 been taken of this occurrence, which Power 
 set down to his zeal for the government, 
 if the murdered lad's family had not 
 been urged by their landlord Bagnell, who 
 
 hated Power because of his alliance with 
 16
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 the Donoughmore interest, to prosecute the 
 magistrate. Even when proceedings were 
 taken against him, the grand jury composed 
 of men like himself, threw out the bill, and it 
 was only when a second bill was sent up that 
 it was accepted, and he was returned to take 
 his trial for murder. The defence was that 
 Lonnergan was one of a dangerous gang of 
 rebels, and that he had fired a stone at his 
 murderer, statements for which no evidence 
 was forthcoming. The result was that Power, 
 as an active agent for the government, was 
 acquitted, but that his name was removed from 
 the magistracy. 
 
 Previous to his trial he had at Lord 
 Donoughmore's suggestion, and in order to 
 advocate his lordship's political views, become 
 the proprietor of the Clonmel Gazette or 
 Munster Mercury, the editor of which was 
 Bernard Wright, a wit, a poet, and a teacher 
 of foreign' languages, but no politician ; who, 
 because a letter in the French language had 
 in 1798 been found upon him, had received a 
 hundred lashes by order of Sir John Judkin 
 
 VOL. I. 17 B
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Fitzgerald ' an extremely active, spirited, and 
 meritorious magistrate' as the parliamentary 
 proceedings styled him. Edmund Power knew 
 nothing of newspapers and this venture merely 
 served to sink him deeper in the mire of debt. 
 The state of his finances was such that his 
 daughters, amongst other humiliations, were 
 made to feel that their school fees were unpaid, 
 and were prevented from learning certain kinds 
 of fancy work, without a knowledge of which 
 no girl's education was considered complete. 
 
 Laughed at for his pretensions by the class 
 whom he sought, hated as a renegade and 
 an enemy of his country by the class he 
 despised, baffled in his hopes of obtaining 
 recognition and reward from the govern- 
 ment he served, he was a soured and a 
 desperate man. Always given to conviviality 
 he now became dissipated, and as a con- 
 sequence his temper grew more violent, his fits 
 of rage more frequent ; he treated his wife with 
 brutality, and became the terror of his home 
 where he delighted to display his tyranny. 
 
 The slightest disregard to his wishes was 
 18
 
 LAD Y BLESS1NGTON 
 
 punished by flinging knives, plates, cups, or 
 whatever came readiest to his hand, at the 
 heads of the offenders. Terror-stricken by his 
 drunken fury, his cruelty, and his desperate 
 oaths, his children fled from his approach, 
 and as a result of the misery of their home, 
 his eldest daughter Anne fell into a nervous 
 condition which speedily brought about her 
 death. 
 
 Notwithstanding the state of his circum- 
 stances he continued to entertain recklessly, 
 by way of keeping up appearances ; and 
 when in 1803 a regiment of the 47th foot 
 was ordered to Clonmel, he invited the 
 officers to dinner. Amongst those who ac- 
 cepted his invitation were Captain James 
 Murray and Captain Maurice St Leger 
 Farmer, both of whom became ardent 
 admirers of Margaret Power. Though only 
 fourteen years old at this time, she was in 
 the habit of sitting at her father's table when 
 he received company ; but it is significant 
 that when these young men came to her 
 home, she, a mere school - girl, was con- 
 '9
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 sidered too young to be formally introduced 
 to them. 
 
 From the fact that their other children 
 possessed more regularity of feature, her 
 parents were not quick to recognise the 
 charm that depended more on colour and 
 expression which Margaret, now the eldest 
 daughter, began to develop. Her large grey- 
 blue eyes, wistful, winsome, and almost dark 
 in the shadow of long lashes, were con- 
 trasted by abundant brown hair rather 
 light in colour; her face round and soft, was 
 fresh and clear in complexion with sweet 
 little dimples that lapsed into smiles : her 
 exquisitely shaped head with its tiny pink 
 ears was gracefully poised upon white 
 sloping shoulders, blue veined like her 
 arms : whilst her hands were so beautiful 
 that years later they served as models to 
 Henry Barlowe the sculptor. Her figure 
 gave promise of a grace that already marked 
 her movements ; whilst not the least of those 
 charms which were subsequently to exercise 
 forcible influence over others, was her voice, 
 
 20
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 which low, soft, caressing, and just flavoured 
 with an accent that gave it piquancy, fell 
 wooingly upon the ear. 
 
 Little wonder that these young men felt the 
 fascination of this girl with her winsome beauty 
 and her child-like shyness ; a fascination they 
 lost no time in declaring. Though showing no 
 affection for either, she liked Captain Murray 
 far the better of the two. his frank face, good 
 humour, and deferential ways pleasing her; 
 whilst Captain Farmer had from the first 
 filled her sensitive mind with a fear she could 
 not overcome ; a fear probably arising from 
 the fact that though good-looking and well- 
 shaped, his manner was often wild and abrupt. 
 Moreover there was about him a general air of 
 excitability that awed her, which though she 
 was then unaware of the cause, was due to 
 temporary fits of insanity from which he 
 had suffered since birth. 
 
 A day came when Captain Murray asked 
 her to become his wife and met with a 
 refusal; she telling him, she was too young 
 to think of marriage, and that though she
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 liked, she did not love him. Seeing that he 
 was repugnant to her, Captain Farmer had 
 not proposed to her personally, but set about 
 gaining her in what he considered a more 
 certain way ; this was to ask her father's 
 permission to make her his wife. Beau 
 Power was delighted at the prospect of 
 ridding himself of the encumbrance of a 
 daughter, especially when now on the verge 
 of ruin he could satisfactorily dispose of 
 her to an officer in the army, a man of old 
 family, 'who offered the most liberal pro- 
 posals which a large fortune enabled him 
 to make.' 
 
 The bargain was closed without delay, 
 and one evening Margaret was called into the 
 shabby dining-room, the atmosphere of which 
 was heavy with the smell of roast meat and 
 whisky, where though long after dinner her 
 father was still drinking his customary four 
 glasses of punch. This from miserable experi- 
 ence, was known to be and dreaded as his worst 
 hour. Pale and trembling, the child, yet in 
 short frocks, stood at the foot of the table, her
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 wistful eyes striving to read the flushed and 
 frowning face of the tyrant, who roughly and 
 briefly told her that she was to marry Captain 
 Farmer. She heard in silence, scarce believ- 
 ing he was serious, but on learning that her 
 father meant what he said, she burst into 
 tears and refused to obey. Power who 
 allowed those he ruled to have no will but 
 his own, shouted out violent threats in his 
 semi-drunken fury, struck the table, stormed 
 and swore he would be obeyed, when she 
 escaped from the room and blindly sought 
 her own, situated at the top of the house, 
 a dingy little apartment sacred to her as a 
 sanctuary, the eaves of its sloping roof the 
 shelter-place of many nests, its high solitary 
 window looking down upon the river, the 
 worn bridge, and the island beyond with 
 its rushes. Here she gave vent to the grief 
 which shook, to the fear which overwhelmed 
 her, rebelling in the bitterness of her heart 
 against the fate which threatened her. The 
 dislike she had from the first felt towards 
 Captain Farmer, now deepened to repulsion : 
 23
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 the unknown was more terrible to this child 
 than the miseries she could realise, though 
 the latter were cruel enough : for as long 
 as she could remember her home had been 
 darkened by a man of violent temper and 
 brutal manner, such as her future husband 
 promised to be ; and she remembered with 
 self-pity the nervous apprehensions, the watch- 
 ful terror, the strain of mind, the household 
 had long endured- Was her future to be as 
 her past ? 
 
 One hope for her remained. Broken-spirited 
 and ill-used as her mother was, she would 
 surely rebel against her husband in his 
 attempt to sacrifice his daughter. True, 
 though affectionate in an impulsive and 
 undiscerning way, she had from want of 
 sympathy and insight, ever failed to under- 
 stand her daughter's nature, and had never 
 been drawn to her by that bond of union 
 which is closer than relationship, which relation- 
 ship itself frequently fails to establish. It 
 might be however that having suffered in her 
 
 own married life, she would in this point 
 24
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 recognise the misery that awaited her child 
 and strive to avert it : but Margaret was soon 
 to learn that her hopes in this direction were 
 ill-founded. For whilst the girl was still upon 
 her knees in tears, her mother entered the 
 room, and one glance at her face showed 
 that the sympathy and aid anxiously looked 
 for were missing. To Margaret's sob-choked 
 cry ' Oh mother have you heard ? ' the 
 answer came that she knew all and con- 
 sidered Margaret foolish to behave in such 
 a rebellious manner. She was a child with 
 romantic notions ; books had filled her mind 
 with nonsense ; her parents were the best 
 judges of how she should act. She should be 
 pleased and flattered to have a proposal from 
 Captain Farmer, instead of giving way to 
 foolish tears : for he was a young and a hand- 
 some man much in love with her ; he was in a 
 good position and had fine prospects ; what 
 more did she want? 
 
 As for not loving him, that was because she 
 had got absurd notions from reading poetry ; 
 when girls grew up they had to think of other 
 25
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 things than love. What she should remember 
 was that her father was a ruined man, who 
 might be sold up and left without a home any 
 day : that it was her duty to catch at this 
 chance of a settlement which would be a relief 
 to her family, and that as Captain Farmer's wife 
 she would have an opportunity of advancing her 
 sisters' and perhaps her brothers' prospects. At 
 all events marry she must, and without delay. 
 There now seemed no chance of escape 
 from a marriage which she feared and 
 loathed : without a friend capable of aiding 
 or protecting her, she was driven into that 
 innermost loneliness where so much of her 
 life from childhood upwards had been spent. 
 Her white face with its imploring eyes only 
 made her father more furious, and if possible 
 more determined she should marry Farmer, 
 to whom he was probably under obligations. 
 The force of her grief was therefore reserved 
 for night, when in the silence broken only by 
 the surge of the river, and the swish of the 
 rushes, she sobbed herself to sleep that brought 
 
 her terrifying dreams. 
 
 26
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 The heartlessness of Power is emphasised 
 by the fact that before the marriage took 
 place he had been told by Farmer's relatives 
 that the latter had been insane, but this fact 
 carefully kept from Margaret did not alter 
 her father's plans. News of the intended 
 marriage becoming known, the relatives of the 
 family and neighbours regarded it as a violence 
 done to the girl and an act of tyranny on the part 
 of her father ; but the increased unpopularity 
 with which he was regarded only made him 
 more forcibly resent his daughter's tears. As 
 for the bridegroom elect, he was by no means 
 to be put from his purpose by the shrinking 
 repugnance and open fear shown him by the 
 child. And so day after day passed bringing 
 her nearer and more near to what she dreaded, 
 until cowed into submission, and by bitter- 
 ness of suffering made temporarily indifferent 
 to her fate, she became a wife at the 
 age of fifteen years and six months : the 
 marriage being celebrated in the parish 
 church of Clonmel, 'according to the rites 
 
 and ceremonies of the United Church of 
 
 27
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 England and Ireland ' on the 7th of March 
 1804. 
 
 The result of this union may readily be 
 anticipated ; for years afterwards its brutality 
 and misery impressed her mind. Once in 
 speaking of this time she told a friend she 
 had not been long under her husband's roof 
 when it became evident that he was subject 
 to fits of insanity ; that ' he frequently treated 
 her with personal violence, that he used to 
 strike her on the face, pinch her till her arms 
 were black and blue, lock her up whenever 
 he went abroad, and often left her without 
 food till she felt almost famished.' 
 
 His insane jealousy, his capricious temper, 
 and arrogant bearing, made life a long-con- 
 tinued terror during the three months which 
 she lived with him. At the end of this time 
 his regiment was ordered to the Curragh of 
 Kildare, when summoning such spirit as 
 was left her, she refused to accompany him. 
 He therefore allowed her to remove to her 
 father's house, there to remain for the present. 
 
 It happened that a few days after he had 
 28
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 reached the Curragh, Farmer had an argument 
 with his colonel, on whom in a moment of 
 frenzy he drew his sword. This act being 
 mercifully set down to insanity, Farmer was 
 spared a trial by court-martial and its conse- 
 quences, and allowed to sell his commission. 
 His friends then obtained for him an appoint- 
 ment in the East India Company's service. 
 
 Before starting for India he strove to per- 
 suade his wife to accompany him abroad, 
 but having the memory of recent suffer- 
 ings fresh in her mind, she refused, when he 
 did her the service of taking himself out of 
 her life for ever. 
 
 And in this way ended the prelude to a 
 career whose strange surprises, emotional 
 episodes, brilliant success and tragic ending, 
 must possess a seductive charm for all students 
 of life. 
 
 29
 
 CHAPTER I I 
 
 An Unprotected Wife An Unhappy House A 
 Hateful Position Lord Blessington appeared 
 upon the Scene A Tragedy in the Fleet 
 Freedom and Marriage An Irish Welcome 
 The Mansion in St James's Square. 
 
 THE return of Margaret Farmer to her father's 
 home was made unwelcome, and it seemed 
 as if her unhappiness was destined to continue : 
 for her parents resented as they might a re- 
 proof, the fact of her marriage having turned 
 out miserably ; and instead of regarding her 
 as its victim, treated her as if she were 
 responsible for its wretchedness. Not only 
 had she been of no service in helping to marry 
 her sister Ellen, or in forwarding the fortunes 
 of her family, but she had come back upon 
 their hands a burden. 
 
 Her father behaved towards her with morose- 
 30
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 ness, her mother assumed the airs of a martyr, 
 and her only comfort was in her brothers and 
 sisters, who pitied her as openly as they 
 dared without drawing down on themselves 
 the fire and fury of the head of the house. 
 As the cool resentment with which she was 
 at first received gradually wore away, it was 
 succeeded by a more active hostility. She 
 was now referred to as an interloper, whose 
 experience was likely to interfere with her 
 sister's prospects of settlement. 
 
 Her sister Ellen, a year younger than 
 Margaret, had already gained much admira- 
 tion in Clonmel society and at garrison 
 balls, and was regarded by her parents as 
 the beauty of the family. With classically- 
 cut features, a pale clear complexion, large 
 calm blue eyes, her face had the symmetry 
 and repose of statuary, her figure was ex- 
 cessively graceful, and like her sister she 
 possessed a natural air of refinement and 
 dignity. So far as regularity and modelling 
 of feature went, she had the advantage of 
 her elder sister : but the latter had an intelli- 
 31
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 gence and piquancy of expression that gave 
 her a fascination which Ellen, cold and placid, 
 entirely lacked. Her youngest sister Mary 
 Anne was then a child of about eight. 
 
 Even at this time Beau Power, who every 
 day advanced deeper into the mire of debt, 
 managed to keep open house ; and not only 
 entertained the officers stationed in the garrison, 
 but also the judges and lawyers who visited 
 the town during the assizes. Like most men 
 who are tyrants at home, he could be bland 
 and amusing abroad ; and he readily gathered 
 round his table men willing to enjoy his 
 hospitality. 
 
 Amongst such were not wanting many who 
 ardently admired the wife of sixteen summers, 
 beautiful, intelligent, and unhappy, whose situa- 
 tion, deprived as she was of the protection of 
 a husband or the care of a father, seemed to 
 make way for their advances. Wherever she 
 went she was pursued by suitors who sought 
 to take her from her father's house. Amongst 
 them was a man of fascinating personality, 
 wealthy, and connected with the nobility, whom 
 32
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 she had learned to care for and with whom 
 she would have gone had she not heard that 
 he was married ; when she refused to destroy 
 another woman's happiness even to secure her 
 own. 
 
 Another suitor was Captain Thomas Jenkins 
 of the nth Light Dragoons whose regiment 
 was stationed in the neighbouring town of 
 Tullow, a member of an old Hampshire family, 
 with an income of between six and eight 
 thousand a year, amiable and generous, who 
 added polished manners to the attraction of 
 a handsome person. For a long time she 
 refused to listen to his proposals and would 
 probably have continued to do so, had not 
 news reached her that Farmer after spending 
 a couple of years abroad during which he had 
 taken to drink, had now left the East India 
 Company's service, and was on his way home 
 with the avowed intention of forcing her to 
 live with him. 
 
 No more terrifying prospect could be placed 
 before her. She had for nearly three years 
 
 suffered in silence the wretchedness of her 
 VOL. i. 33 c
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 humiliating position in her father's home 
 which every day became more hateful ; but 
 life with a drunkard and a lunatic to whom 
 she knew her parents would willingly give her 
 up, would be unendurable. In her plight she 
 turned for advice to Major, afterwards Sir 
 Edward Blakeney, then on duty with his 
 regiment in Clonmel, an elderly, kind-hearted, 
 honourable man in whose friendship she trusted. 
 As the result of her consultation with him, 
 she left her father's house with Captain Jenkins 
 whom, without loving, she esteemed as a 
 friend, when he took her to live in Hamp- 
 shire. 
 
 The position which seemed forced upon 
 her by circumstances was odious to her, 
 and left behind it a memory which cloud- 
 like came between her and the sun of 
 her happiness throughout her life. Her most 
 earnest efforts were, not only by her demeanour 
 but by her dress, to avoid everything which 
 might remind her or others of her situation ; 
 and in this she was seconded by Captain 
 Jenkins. 
 
 34
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 No greater delicacy, respect, or affection 
 could be shown her were she his wife ; yet 
 the costly presents which he delighted in 
 lavishing on her and she found herself 
 obliged to accept, humiliated her. In the 
 meantime her position was perhaps rendered 
 less trying by the conduct of his family : for 
 seeing her retiring manners and the good 
 influence she exercised over him in preventing 
 the ruinous extravagance in which he had 
 formerly indulged, they by kindness and friend- 
 ship treated her in every way as if she were 
 his wife. 
 
 She had been living under the protection 
 of Captain Jenkins for some six years 
 when Lord Blessington then a widower came 
 on a visit to the latter for a few weeks hunt- 
 ing. The Earl was not unknown to Margaret 
 Farmer ; for soon after her marriage, the Tyrone 
 Militia, whose Lieutenant-Colonel was Vis- 
 count Mountjoy afterwards Earl of Blessington, 
 had been stationed at Clonmel ; so that it was 
 in Ireland she had first met the man whose 
 life she was fated to influence, whose rank 
 35
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 and wealth aided her beauty and talents to 
 exercise the brilliant sway they were later to 
 obtain. 
 
 This renewal of acquaintance soon led to 
 warmer feelings on the Earl's part. His 
 admiration of Margaret Farmer gradually 
 deepened, until at last he offered to make 
 her his wife, contingent on her obtaining a 
 divorce from her husband : he meanwhile 
 providing her with a home, but treating her 
 merely as one to whom he was engaged. 
 The prospect of being relieved from her 
 present position which time had not helped 
 to render less humiliating, and of becoming 
 a wife, were hailed by her with infinite relief 
 and gratitude. Her feelings underwent no 
 change towards Captain Jenkins, whom with- 
 out loving she had liked. He had now to be 
 consulted ; and on learning Lord Blessington's 
 intentions, set aside all considerations of self 
 which would interfere with her chances of 
 happiness. 
 
 Lord Blessington therefore took a house 
 in Manchester Square London, for Margaret 
 36
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 Farmer, who lived here in charge of her 
 brother Robert, who was now made agent 
 for the Blessington estates. And no sooner 
 had she parted from Captain Jenkins, than 
 Lord Blessington sent him a cheque for ten 
 thousand pounds, the presumed value of the 
 jewels and apparel given by Jenkins to 
 Margaret Farmer, which he accepted. Before 
 taking up her residence in Manchester Square 
 it had been stipulated by her that she and 
 the Earl should live apart until such time as 
 her divorce could be obtained, a compact which 
 was strictly kept; a statement made on the 
 authority of Mr Taggart, a friend of Lord 
 Blessington whom he represented in select- 
 ing this establishment. 
 
 Before the divorce was obtained, however 
 death had freed her. On Farmer's return from 
 India he had remained in London where he 
 sought the society of those not calculated to 
 cure his love of drink. In October 1817 he 
 obtained an appointment in the service of 
 the Spanish Patriots, and before quitting 
 England betook himself one night to bid 
 37
 
 THE MOST GOXGEOUS 
 
 farewell to some boon companions whose 
 habits had brought them to the King's Bench 
 Prison. In those days prisoners of the Fleet 
 were allowed to receive and to entertain their 
 friends in what fashion they pleased so long 
 as they paid, and Captain Farmer had been a 
 frequent and a riotous visitor to certain 
 individuals there confined. 
 
 On the occasion of this his last visit, the 
 party had finished four quarts of rum and were 
 all drunk when Farmer rose to leave. He 
 had no sooner stated his intention of quitting 
 them, than his companionship being coveted 
 by his friends, they locked the door to prevent 
 his departure. Now fearing they were going 
 to keep him all night as they had done more 
 than once before, he rushed to the window 
 which he threw up, and threatened to jump 
 out if they did not set him free. His threat 
 was met with a chorus of drunken and in- 
 credulous laughter which set this valiant man 
 upon his mettle, and to show them he was 
 ready to keep his word he scrambled out 
 upon the ledge where he remained arguing 
 38
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 solemnly with the merry group inside, whose 
 faces flushed by drink were lighted by wax 
 candles standing on a liquor-stained table. 
 Suddenly, by a heedless move he lost his 
 balance, fell, and frantically clutched with 
 nerveless fingers the ledge from which he 
 hung some seconds, his wild eyes taking their 
 last look on life in staring at the awed group 
 within ; his sobered mind realising that certain 
 death waited him in the darkness yawning 
 below. 
 
 As his companions, helpless to save because 
 of their muddled brains and paralysed limbs, 
 still looked, they saw the space his head had 
 filled, suddenly become empty, and whilst 
 holding each his breath, heard a sickening 
 thud. Then all was still. Farmer in whom 
 when found, life still flickered, was carried 
 to the Middlesex Hospital where he died 
 next day. 
 
 There was now nothing to prevent the 
 
 Earl's marriage with the woman he loved ; 
 
 a marriage which four months later, on the 
 
 1 6th of February 1818 took place by special 
 
 39
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 licence at the Bryanston Square Church, 
 when Margaret Farmer became Marguerite 
 Countess of Blessington ; and in this manner 
 was raised to a rank she was in all ways fitted 
 to fill, and gained a title eventually to be 
 associated with the most brilliant circle of 
 her day, a title which yet conjures up a host 
 of memorable associations. 
 
 Lady Blessington had not at this time 
 reached her thirtieth year, and the joyous- 
 ness of life lay before her. The attractions 
 of her youth had deepened with her years ; 
 education, sorrow, and experience had united 
 in giving her mind a breadth and training 
 which her face expressed. The wistfulness 
 of her eyes, the sweetness of her smile, the 
 piquancy of her features, her grace of move- 
 ment, her charm of manner, and the melody 
 of her voice combined to make her a fascinat- 
 ing woman. 
 
 The man who loved her was but seven years 
 
 her senior and like herself was Irish by birth 
 
 and descent. His father Viscount Mountjoy 
 
 and Baron Mountjoy in the County of Tyrone 
 
 40
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 had been a well-known figure in the Irish 
 parliament where he had warmly advocated 
 the claims of Catholics to equality of legisla- 
 tion ; and had taken an active part in the 
 suppression of the rebellion of 1798 when he 
 was shot in the battle of New Ross at the 
 head of his regiment. At the age of seven- 
 teen the second husband of Margaret Farmer 
 had been left lord of himself and of a hand- 
 some fortune which throughout his life he 
 endeavoured to spend right royally. He had 
 been educated at Eton and at Christ Church 
 Oxford, and at twenty-three had been ap- 
 pointed Lieutenant-Colonel of the Tyrone 
 Militia. In 1809 he was elected a repre- 
 sentative peer for Ireland, and two years 
 before his second marriage, had been advanced 
 to the Earldom of Blessington. 
 
 Loaded with wealth and honour the world 
 was a sunny place in his sight : young and 
 handsome he accepted the favours it offered 
 him and enjoyed its pleasures to the full. 
 No brighter youth danced in satin breeches 
 and velvet coat at Almacks ; none gayer 
 41
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 gave delicious suppers in the lamp-lit bowers 
 of Vauxhall Gardens. Tall, vigorous, bright- 
 eyed and winsome, generous to extravagance 
 and sweet-natured, he was caressed by all 
 who like himself loved gaiety and seized the 
 sunshine of the passing hour. 
 
 Byron remembered him 'in all the glory 
 of gems and snuff-boxes, and uniforms and 
 theatricals, sitting to Strolling the painter to 
 be depicted as one of the heroes of Agincourt.' 
 For theatricals he had a special taste and 
 regarded himself as an accomplished actor. 
 Indeed for several years he entertained his 
 friends at Mountjoy Forest, Tyrone, for three 
 or four weeks at a time with plays performed 
 in a spacious theatre he had built, and acted 
 by players from Dublin and London, he tak- 
 ing prominent parts in the casts : his house 
 crowded with guests who were overwhelmed 
 with the most lavish hospitality. In London 
 also he concerned himself with the drama, 
 and was one of the noblemen who assisted at 
 the farewell banquet given to John Philip 
 Kemble in July 1817. 
 
 42
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 As Viscount Mountjoy, George the Fourth 
 had shown him the favour of his countenance, 
 and when the Viscount became an Earl, his 
 Majesty who was busy in trumping up 
 charges against his Queen, said ' I hope I 
 shall find in Blessington as warm a friend 
 as I found in Mountjoy ' to which the new 
 peer replied that he was afraid the prosecu- 
 tion of her Majesty would make the King 
 unpopular, and that he never could be the 
 advocate of a measure that might lead to 
 recrimination. 
 
 When about twenty-seven years old, Lord 
 Blessington had met a lady named Brown, whose 
 beauty was the means of parting her from her 
 husband, a major in the army. Enthusiastic 
 in all things but especially in love, the 
 gallant carried away the woman who charmed 
 him, buying a residence for her at Worthing 
 and another in Portman Square. She bore 
 him two children, a boy and a girl, before 
 her husband was considerate enough to die, 
 when my lord made her my lady, in gratitude 
 for which she bore him two other children 
 43
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 also a girl and a boy, Lady Harriet Anne 
 Frances Gardiner, and the Right Hon. Luke 
 Wellington, Viscount Mountjoy. 
 
 Soon after the birth of this legitimate 
 heir, the mother became ill, when her husband 
 decided to take her to France with the hope 
 of benefiting her health. They had not 
 journeyed further than St Germains when 
 she retired from life, and furnished my lord 
 with an opportunity of indulging his theatrical 
 tastes by providing a funeral which became 
 the talk of three European capitals and cost 
 him from three to four thousand pounds. 
 This event took place in September 1814, 
 and three years and five months later 
 Lord Blessington married Margaret Farmer. 
 In the beginning of his career the Earl's 
 income was thirty thousand a year, but owing 
 to his extravagant habits and the various 
 encumbrances charged upon the estate, it 
 had dwindled to between twenty-three and 
 twenty-four thousand a year at the time of 
 his second marriage ; a splendid fortune in 
 itself for the daughter of a ruined squireen. 
 
 44
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 Soon after this marriage Lord Blessington 
 took his bride to Ireland when they stayed 
 at Mountjoy Forest. Preparations for their 
 visit had been made ; the tenantry who 
 worshipped a landlord who never had evicted 
 one of them nor allowed them to be distressed 
 for rent, formed themselves into a lane miles 
 long, to hail his arrival and that of his beau- 
 tiful bride ; their faces lit with welcome, their 
 voices ringing blessings, their arms out- 
 stretched in friendship to my lady and my 
 lord. And no sooner had the carriage passed 
 than they followed, a wild, shouting, gesticu- 
 lating throng, whose hearts, bounding in 
 the joy of greeting touched the hearts of 
 those they cheered : a greeting whose accents 
 sounded with old familiar sweetness to one 
 of those who heard. 
 
 The residence which they were to occupy 
 for a short time had been decorated and 
 furnished anew, with what extravagance may 
 be imagined when it is stated that Lady 
 Blessington found her private sitting-room 
 ' hung with crimson Genoa silk velvet, trimmed 
 45
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 with gold bullion fringe, and all the furniture 
 of equal richness a richness that was only 
 suited to a state room in a palace.' Mountjoy 
 Forest now became the scene of the most 
 extravagant hospitality. Dinners, balls, parties 
 followed each other in rapid succession ; every 
 day had its fresh form of entertainment, and 
 neither exertion nor wealth was spared to 
 mark the significance of the bridal visit. But 
 she whom it was intended to honour, seems 
 to have taken little enjoyment in this con- 
 tinual revel : the fact being that the country 
 soon bored her, though not so much as its 
 rough - hewn deep - drinking gentry, whose 
 hearts were honest but whose manners were 
 unpolished : who though in some cases the 
 descendants of native princes, were in most 
 instances illiterate. 
 
 She therefore induced her husband to leave 
 Ireland much sooner than he had intended, 
 and to return to London where she was anxious 
 to begin her career as a leader of society. 
 The house she had formerly occupied in 
 
 Manchester Square was given up and a 
 46
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 mansion rented in St James's Square that was 
 fitted up with all the magnificence which taste 
 could suggest or money purchase. 
 
 Lord Blessington's high position, varied 
 tastes, and engaging manners had made him 
 acquainted with the most distinguished per- 
 sonages in London ; politicians, writers, states- 
 men, poets, and travellers. And they being 
 made welcome to a palatial home where they 
 found a hostess beautiful and accomplished, 
 frankly desirous to please, willing to give 
 homage to genius, not unwilling to receive 
 praise, quick to perceive merit, with all the 
 tact of the Celt, gentle-voiced and charming, 
 readily came again and again bringing others 
 in their train ; until by degrees the mansion 
 in St James's Square became noted as a centre 
 where the most brilliant and distinguished men 
 of the day congregated around one of the 
 most fascinating women of the period. 
 
 In her spacious drawing-rooms with their 
 
 frescoed ceilings, their chandeliers of crystal and 
 
 silver, their priceless pictures, and oriental 
 
 embroideries, and their general air of splendour, 
 
 47
 
 THE MO^T GORGEOUS 
 
 Whigs for awhile forgot their hatred of Tories, 
 men of fashion rubbed shoulders with men of 
 letters, and royal dukes were as humble subjects 
 before her whom nature had made regal. Here 
 came my Lord Palmerston to divest himself 
 of the cares of state and hear John Philip 
 Kemble, now retired, speak of his past glories : 
 here Tom Moore related to his hostess the last 
 news received from Byron, her meeting with 
 whom was later on to form an episode in her 
 life: here young Lord Castlereagh, handsome, 
 extravagant, talented, a poet and a traveller, 
 gained more attention than his gifts alone would 
 have obtained for him, from the fact that he 
 had figured in a romance with a voluptuous 
 Venetian whose husband had shot him through 
 the arm. Sir Thomas Laurence came to see 
 her whose beauty had given him the oppor- 
 tunity of painting his finest portrait : and 
 with him his brother in art VVilkie, Samuel 
 Rogers, banker and poet, Earl Russell, 
 James Scarlett afterwards Lord Abinger, Lord 
 Brougham, vehement and witty, Jekyll, and 
 Erskine, and Earl Grey my lady's warm
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 admirer and devoted friend, besides a host of 
 others, congregated in her home. 
 
 Amongst literary men bidden to her house 
 were Byron's friend the Hon. Douglas Kinnaird, 
 who had adapted Fletcher's comedy ' The Mer- 
 chant of Bruges ' which was produced at 
 Drury Lane ; William Jerdan, John Gait, and 
 Dr Samuel Parr. 
 
 William Jerdan was then an author of re- 
 pute having published a number of novels 
 and was moreover editor of The Literary 
 Gazette, a journal whose praise or blame made 
 or marred a book, so great was its influence 
 in literary circles. Witty and wise by turns, 
 he was always warmly welcomed by his 
 hostess and became her frequent guest. ' The 
 more I saw and knew of her' he wrote years 
 later ' the more I loved her kind and generous 
 nature, her disposition to be good to all, her 
 faithful energy to serve her friends. Full of 
 fine taste, intelligence, and imagination, she 
 was indeed a lovable woman ; and by a wide 
 circle she was regarded as the centre of a 
 highly intellectual and brilliant society.' 
 
 VOL. I. 49 D
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 John Gait a native of Ayrshire who has been 
 described as being as wise as a sage and as 
 simple as a child, equally shrewd and credulous, 
 as eminently practical as he was fancifully 
 imaginative, was likewise her devoted friend. 
 He had begun his career in commerce but 
 launching into poetry had produced tragedies 
 which were pronounced by Sir Walter Scott 
 ' the worst ever seen.' He had travelled and had 
 become acquainted with Lord Byron of whom 
 he delighted to talk ; and his powers of per- 
 suasion may be estimated when it is stated 
 that he induced Colburn to issue a monthly 
 publication called The Rejected Theatre that 
 contained plays refused by London managers, 
 whose want of judgment and enterprise were 
 in this manner cruelly exposed and they 
 brought to shame. His own plays of course 
 held a great part of this magazine, which it is 
 fair to state survived a year. What perhaps 
 gained him a place in Lady Blessington's 
 drawing-room, was the fact that he had soon 
 after her marriage made a genuine success by 
 publishing his novel The Ayrshire Legatees, 
 50
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 which first ran through Blackwootfs Magazine, 
 and so exalted him that he boasted that his 
 literary resources were superior to Sir Walter 
 Scott, with whom he resolved to compete in 
 historical fiction. 
 
 A more remarkable figure was Dr Samuel 
 Parr who appeared at her receptions in a full 
 dress-suit of black velvet, a powdered wig 
 covering his massive head, his rugged features 
 lighted by piercing eyes which he boasted he 
 could ' inflict ' on those he wished to subdue. 
 Dr Parr who was at this time drawing near 
 his eightieth year was a learned scholar, a 
 prebend of St Paul's, a rector, an author, an 
 ex - schoolmaster, and a contributor to the 
 British Critic. 
 
 When a schoolmaster at Stanmore it had 
 been his custom to stalk through the town in 
 a dirty striped morning - gown ; to flog his 
 pupils with vigour ; and to arrange that their 
 fights should take place at a spot where he 
 could see and enjoy them from his study 
 windows. 
 
 In 1820 he caused a sensation by entering a 
 51
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 solemn protest in the parish prayer-book against 
 the omission from the liturgy of George 
 the Fourth's injured wife Queen Caroline. 
 Moreover he visited her Majesty and was 
 appointed her first chaplain. The doctor was 
 an ardent lover of tobacco and smoked his 
 twenty pipes regularly of an evening; nay, 
 during intervals of the services he conducted, 
 he used to retire to the vestry that he might 
 enjoy a whiff: but on being introduced to 
 Lady Blessington he vowed he would sacrifice 
 his pipe to spend an evening in her company, 
 and no higher estimate of the pleasure she 
 afforded him could he give. So delighted 
 was he with her graciousness, and so impressed 
 by her appearance, that from the period of 
 his first visit he styled her ' the most gorgeous 
 Lady Blessington ' a phrase that passed into 
 common use amongst her friends. 
 
 One evening some three years after her 
 establishment at St James's Square, the groom 
 of the chambers announced a name that was 
 unfamiliar, and there entered her drawing- 
 room, brilliant with the light of innumerable 
 52
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 candles and voiceful with the sound of a 
 hundred tongues, a young Frenchman then 
 strange to her, whose history was sub- 
 sequently to become intimately interwoven 
 with her own ; whose friendship, keeping 
 loyal, sweetened her life and survived her 
 death. He had been brought to her recep- 
 tion by his brother-in-law the Comte de 
 Grammont both of them being on a brief 
 visit to London. This was Count Alfred 
 D'Orsay then just one - and - twenty, a de- 
 scendant on the maternal side from the Kings 
 of Wurtemberg, and on the paternal side 
 from one of the most ancient families in 
 France. His singularly handsome appearance 
 was a hereditary gift, his father known in his 
 youth as Le Beau D'Orsay, having elicited 
 from Napoleon the remark that he would make 
 an admirable model for Jupiter. The beauty 
 of Count Alfred D'Orsay's person was en- 
 hanced by his great physical strength : more- 
 over he was brilliant as a conversationalist, 
 soldierly in bearing, a lover of art, skilled in 
 all manly exercises and elegant in his attire ; 
 53
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 one in fact whom nature richly endowed, and 
 whom fate deigned to figure in romance. 
 
 At an early age he had entered the Garde 
 de Corps of the restored Bourbon ; he had 
 already shown great skill in painting ; his 
 modelling was later to bring him fame as a 
 sculptor; whilst his journal kept in London 
 was, when shown to Lord Byron, pronounced 
 by the poet ' a very extraordinary production 
 and of a most melancholy truth in all that 
 regards high life in England.' 
 
 With the courtly manners of the old r/giine, 
 with an ardent admiration for women's beauty, 
 an appreciation for talent, endowed with a 
 sunny youth regarding whose undefinable 
 future it was interesting to speculate, he 
 stood before Lady Blessington a dazzling 
 personality in a crowd where all were brilliant. 
 For a moment, as it were, the circles of their 
 lives touched to part for the present ; for 
 D'Orsay was soon obliged to return to France ; 
 and at this time she had no intention of tak- 
 ing that journey which was destined to be- 
 come so eventful in her career. 
 54
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 With the change in her fortunes Lady 
 Blessington was not forgetful of her family. 
 Indeed a rich generosity was a distinguish- 
 ing trait amongst her many fine qualities. 
 Long-expected ruin having overtaken her 
 worthless father, he with his wife left Clonmel 
 and settled in Dublin ; and they having no 
 means of subsistence were supported for the 
 remainder of their lives by Lady Blessington 
 and her sister Ellen. The latter had been 
 invited to England by Margaret before her 
 marriage with the Earl, and had become the 
 wife of John Home Purves, son of a Scotch 
 baronet. After the death of her first husband 
 with whom she did not live happily, she 
 married in 1828, the Right Honourable Charles 
 Manners Sutton, son of the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, and for eighteen years Speaker 
 of the House of Commons on retiring 
 from which office he received a pension of 
 four thousand a year and was raised to the 
 peerage as Viscount Canterbury. 
 
 Her second and youngest sister Mary Anne 
 styled Marianne by the Countess, was adopted 
 55
 
 THE MOST GOXGEOUS 
 
 and educated by her, and eventually married 
 to an old French noble the Comte St 
 Marsault, from whom she soon separated. Her 
 eldest brother Michael had got a commission, 
 probably through Lady Blessington's interest, 
 in the 2nd West India Regiment and died 
 abroad ; whilst her second and youngest 
 brother Robert was, as already mentioned, 
 agent of the Blessington estates. 
 
 Four years after her marriage, at the close 
 of the summer 1822, she and her husband re- 
 solved to leave town for the coming winter ; 
 but their choice of residences lay far apart, he 
 wishing to stay in Ireland whilst she desired 
 to visit Italy. Whether her reluctance to live 
 in her native land was due to the unpleasant- 
 ness of early associations, or to some slight 
 received from the Earl's sisters, one of whom 
 was wife of the Bishop of Ossery, cannot be 
 said ; but the fact remains she never visited 
 Ireland a second time as Countess of Blessing- 
 ton. Regarding the unwillingness she had 
 expressed to take up her residence at Mount- 
 joy Forest, John Gait writes to her at some 
 56
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 length, in a letter dated July 27, 1822 which 
 says : 
 
 ' MY DEAR MADAM, On Monday evening I 
 was so distinctly impressed with the repug- 
 nance which your ladyship feels at the idea 
 of going to Ireland, that I entered entirely 
 into your feelings ; but upon reflection, I cannot 
 recall all the reasonableness of the argument 
 a circumstance so unusual with respect to your 
 ladyship's reasons in general, that I am led 
 to think that some other cause at the moment 
 must have tended to molest you, and to lend 
 the energy of its effect to the expressions of 
 your reluctance. For I have often remarked 
 that the gnat's bite, or a momentary accident, 
 will sometimes change the whole complexion 
 of the mind for a time. But even though 
 nothing of the sort had happened, the scores 
 and hundreds, amounting to thousands of the 
 poor Irish in quest of employment whom I 
 have met on the road and seen landing here, 
 and the jealousy with which they are viewed 
 by the common people, and the parochial 
 burdens which they may occasion in the 
 
 57
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 contemplation of the best of the community, 
 many of whom are loud in their reflections 
 on the Irish absentees, all combine to form 
 such a strong case for my lord's journey, 
 that nothing but the apprehension of your 
 ladyship's indisposition can be pled against 
 it. The journey, however, to be really use- 
 ful, should be one of observation only, and 
 I am sure you will easily persuade him to 
 make it so, and to be resolved not to listen 
 to any complaint with a view to decision in 
 Ireland, or to embark in any new undertak- 
 ing. If he once allow himself to be appealed 
 to on the spot, he must of necessity become 
 affected by local circumstances and individual 
 impartialities by which, instead of doing general 
 good (all a personage of his rank can do), 
 he will become the mere administrator of 
 petty relief, which in their effect may prove 
 detrimental to higher objects ; and were he 
 to engage in new undertakings to say nothing 
 of pecuniary considerations his thoughts would 
 become occupied with projects which, of every 
 kind of favouritism, is the most fatal to the 
 58
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 utility of a public character, such as my 
 lord seems now fairly set in to become. In 
 speaking thus, I address you more as an 
 intellect than a lady, and the interest I take 
 in all that concerns my friends must be 
 accepted as the only excuse I can offer for 
 the freedom. 
 
 ' I really know not what apology to make 
 to your ladyship for all this impertinence; but 
 somehow, since I have had the honour and 
 pleasure of knowing you and my lord so 
 freely, I feel as if we were old friends ; indeed, 
 how can it be otherwise, for no other human 
 beings, unconnected by the common ties, 
 have ever taken half so much interest in 
 at once adding to my enjoyments and con- 
 sideration. I am sensible not only of having 
 acquired a vast accession of what the world 
 calls advantages, but also friends who seem 
 to understand me, and that too at a period 
 when I regarded myself as in some degree 
 quite alone, for all my early intimates were 
 dead. Your ladyship must therefore submit 
 to endure a great deal more than perhaps I 
 59
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 ought to say on so short an acquaintance : 
 but as minds never grow old, and frankness 
 makes up at once the intimacy of years, I find 
 myself warranted to say that I am almost an 
 ancient, as I am ever your ladyship's faithful 
 and sincere friend.' 
 
 It is almost needless to say that Lady 
 Blessington's wishes were carried out by a 
 husband so devoted to her ; and in the month 
 of August 1822 they made preparations 
 to leave England for an indefinite period. A 
 journey abroad was in those days considered 
 a formidable undertaking especially for people 
 of rank and fashion, who took with them their 
 own carriages and servants, kitchen utensils 
 and table appointments, not to speak of huge 
 boxes containing their wardrobes. Before quit- 
 ting the home where she had known such 
 splendour, Lady Blessington tells us, that she 
 went through the rooms looking at the pictures 
 and the furniture with a melancholy feeling 
 she did not expect to experience in starting 
 on a tour to which she had long looked 
 
 forward. Almost at the moment of her 
 60
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 departure she wished she were not going. 
 ' What changes, what dangers may come be- 
 fore I sleep again beneath this roof. Perhaps 
 I may never but I must not give way to such 
 sad forebodings ' she writes in the diary she 
 now began to keep : and she adds a passage 
 regarding the pain she felt at taking leave 
 of friends ; for ' even those whose society 
 afforded little pleasure, assume a new interest 
 at parting.' 
 
 Leaving London on the 25th they reached 
 Calais two days later, having made the 
 journey in an overcrowded packet under 
 gloomy and threatening skies that lent a 
 leaden-green colour to the sea. They reached 
 Paris by the end of the month ; and the 
 following day, September the ist was her birth- 
 day, whose recurrence, she writes, is enough to 
 produce melancholy recollections. ' In England 
 I should experience these doleful feelings, but 
 at Paris tristesse and sentimentality would be 
 misplaced ; so I must look couleur de rose, and 
 receive the congratulations of my friends on 
 
 adding another year to my age; a subject far 
 61
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 from meriting congratulations when one has 
 passed thirty. Youth is like health, we never 
 value the possession of either until they have 
 begun to decline.' 
 
 Whilst in Paris they met Tommy Moore 
 whom they asked to dinner. My lady thought 
 the dinners at the hotel execrable, but she 
 detested going to a restaurant as was even 
 then the fashion for English people : con- 
 sequently she preferred a bad dinner at home, 
 and this the poet was invited to share, though 
 she thought it unworthy of his acceptance. 
 ' A mouth that utters such brilliant things ' 
 she writes ' should only be fed on dainty 
 ones ; and as his skill in gastronomy nearly 
 equals his skill in poetry, a failure in one 
 art must be almost as trying to his temper, 
 as the necessity of reading a failure in the 
 other ; nay it would be worse, for one may 
 laugh at a bad poem, but who has philosophy 
 enough to laugh at a bad dinner?' She goes 
 on to say that a perfect French dinner is like 
 the conversation of a highly-educated man ; 
 
 enough of the raciness of the inherent natural 
 62
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 quality remains to gratify his taste, but 
 rendered more attractive by the manner in 
 which it is presented. 
 
 ' An old nobleman used to say that he 
 could judge of a man's birth by the dishes 
 he preferred, but above all by the vegetables : 
 truffles, morels, mushrooms, and peas in 
 their infancy, he designated as aristocratic 
 vegetables ; but all the vast stock of beans, 
 full-grown peas, carrots, turnips, parsnips, 
 cauliflowers, onions etc. he said were only 
 fit for the vulgar.' 
 
 Moore spent some time with them and 
 took the Countess to La Montagne Russe, 
 ' a very childish but exhilarating amuse- 
 ment' in which the poet frequently indulged. 
 She thought it ' pleasant to observe with what 
 a true zest he enters into every scheme of 
 amusement, though the buoyancy of his spirits 
 and resources of his mind render him so in- 
 dependent of such means of passing time. 
 His is a happy temperament that conveys 
 the idea of having never outlived the 
 sunshine.' 
 
 63
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 The time she passed in a Parisian hotel 
 does not seem to have been pleasant, for 
 the indifference of foreign ears to noise was 
 as remarkable then as now. The neighing 
 of horses and the rumble of wheels in the 
 courtyard, the swearing of coachmen and 
 the grumbling of porters, the shrill voices of 
 women, the singing of lacqueys, the talking 
 of a parrot, the barking of a dog, and the 
 ringing of bells prevented her from sleeping. 
 Then her own servants began to murmur 
 at what they considered their hardships and 
 to sigh for the fleshpots of England. The 
 maids longed for their tea and toast ; the 
 men felt the loss of their beef and beer. ' I 
 have observed ' she says ' that persons 
 accustomed from infancy to the utmost 
 luxury, can better submit to the privations 
 occasioned by travelling, than can their 
 servants.' 
 
 She was not sorry to leave Paris after a 
 stay of ten days, and one morning the court- 
 yard was full of their carriages which were 
 
 being packed anew. A crowd of valets and 
 64
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 footmen were hoisting heavy trunks into their 
 places; the maids had their arms full of 
 cushions and books for my lady's special 
 carriage ; the courier went to and fro ex- 
 amining the springs ; the major domo saw 
 that the plate was safely stored away in the 
 chaise seat. In the 'capacious fourgon ' was 
 already packed various articles considered 
 indispensable to the traveller, such as a patent 
 brass bed, easy chairs and sofas, readily folded, 
 batteries de cuisine for the benefit of the cook 
 who accompanied them, and cases that held 
 ' delicate chapeaux, toques, berets and bonnets 
 too fragile to bear the less easy motion of 
 leathern band-boxes crowning imperials.' No 
 wonder that Lady Blessington waiting in her 
 room above, heard a Frenchman express his 
 wonder at the strangeness of these foreigners 
 and ask if all these coaches and this luggage 
 belonged to the one proprietor. When 
 answered in the affirmative he remarked ' One 
 would suppose that instead of a single family a 
 regiment at least was about to move. How many 
 things those people require to satisfy them.' 
 
 VOL. I. 65 E
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 On leaving London Lady Blessington had 
 taken with her Mary Anne Power her 
 youngest sister; and having met Count de 
 D'Orsay in Paris, they invited him to join 
 them, which he willingly did, but not until 
 they had reached Avignon. A pleasure-seeking 
 party they travelled with leisurely dignity 
 through Switzerland and the South of France, 
 engaging in some places a whole hotel at an 
 exorbitant price, seeing all that was curious 
 or interesting, and scattering money with a 
 liberality supposed to belong to royalty. At 
 Avignon they were visited by the poet 
 laureate of the town who presented them with 
 a congratulatory ode and retired from their 
 presence happy in the possession of a dona- 
 tion, leaving them wondering if as he stated, 
 he lived on his wits, how he could exist on 
 so slender a capital : at Nice they were greeted 
 by school children dressed in their holiday 
 attire, who offered them bouquets ; at Aix 
 they received on leaving, farewell gifts of 
 orange-flower water, bonbons, and roses ; so 
 
 that their tour was a triumphant progress 
 
 66
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 such as would be impossible in these later, 
 more prosaic days of undignified haste. 
 
 The diary kept by Lady Blessington during 
 her travels is mainly devoted to descriptions 
 of, and comments on places visited and sights 
 that impressed. All that would have abounded 
 with interest for the modern reader vignettes 
 of domestic life, etchings of herself and her 
 companions, touches of nature which lend 
 human interest to everyday occurrences are 
 omitted from volumes intented for the public. 
 The pages which are most interesting being 
 those in which she describes her meeting for 
 the first time with Lord Byron; this taking 
 place in Genoa, a city she reached after 
 nearly eight months of travel. 
 
 67
 
 CHAPTER I I I 
 
 Lord Byron A Hero of Romance and an Object of 
 Hatred Storm in the Social Atmosphere In 
 Venice The Rosiest Romance of His Life A 
 Bride of Sixteen Inexorable Fate In Ravenna 
 A Poet's Love-Letter A Philosophic Husband 
 Count Guiccioli becomes Uncivil Strife and 
 Separation Byron is summoned A Common 
 Disturber In Pisa A Ghost-Haunted Palace 
 Banishment A New Residence sought The 
 Villa at Albero Lady Blessington's Hopes 
 Lines written in Her Diary. 
 
 AT this time Lord Byron, as a poet and as 
 a man, exercised a fascination difficult for 
 later generations to appreciate; a fascination 
 due to the brilliancy of his genius, to the 
 beauty of his person, to the mystery and 
 melancholy with which he endeavoured to 
 enwrap himself, and to the reputation 
 gained for the extravagance and romance of 
 his amours. 
 
 The descendant of 'those Byrons of 
 
 68
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 Normandy who had accompanied William 
 the Conqueror into England,' he had the hot 
 blood of adventurous ancestors in his veins: 
 and whilst yet a youth had plunged into the 
 lower depths of life from which he had re- 
 turned saturated with a cynicism he never 
 failed to express. Before reaching his 
 majority he had delighted the town with his 
 Hours of Idleness and punished his critics in 
 English Bards and Scotch Reviewers; after 
 which, chiefly from a desire to escape from 
 the solitude that even at so early a period 
 closed around his inner life, that solitude 
 from which even in the midst of crowds the 
 poet is sure to suffer and partly to dissipate 
 the restlessness which is the travailing of 
 genius, he had travelled through Italy and 
 Spain to Turkey and Greece at a time when 
 such a voyage was an uncommon occurrence. 
 
 On his return he had entered society for 
 the first time. A peer of the realm, a poet, 
 satirist, and traveller, dowered with the fresh- 
 ness and the grace of youth, daring in his 
 
 aspirations, defiant of convention, hating the 
 69
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 cant that encrusted his country, he stood be- 
 fore men a singular and unsolved problem, a 
 genius not understood of his kind; one whose 
 personality compelled admiration, indulgence 
 in which, women intuitively recognised, might 
 lead to danger. 
 
 The years that followed his return to 
 England saw the publication of poems that 
 with their metrical sweep, their seething 
 passion, the melancholy sea-surge and fret of 
 their moods, their bitter sarcasm, and open 
 cynicism made his name known to the world. 
 Then came the fatal mistake of his life, his 
 marriage with Miss Milbanke, a paragon of 
 perfection, wholly unfitted for and unworthy 
 of the human nature of which poets are made. 
 This event took place on the 2nd of January 
 1815, a day which to his impressionable mind 
 was burdened by melancholy and darkened 
 by presentiments which twelve months later 
 were verified when his wife parted from him 
 for ever. In December she had given birth 
 to a daughter, and the following month started 
 
 from London to visit her father in Leicester- 
 
 70
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 shire, taking leave of Byron with the utmost 
 kindness, and on the understanding that he 
 was shortly to join her. On her way she 
 wrote him a letter full of affectionate playful- 
 ness : but soon after she had reached her 
 destination, her father wrote to say she had 
 resolved never to return to her husband. 
 
 This came upon Byron as a shock which 
 the embarrassments of his fortunes at this 
 time did not help him to bear. Eventually 
 all efforts of his at reconciliation being re- 
 jected, he signed a deed of separation which 
 left him ' without rational hope for the future.' 
 This was but the beginning of a period of 
 bitterness which was to last through his life. 
 A storm in the social atmosphere now broke 
 above his head, such as perhaps never assailed 
 unhappy mortal before. Vague hints, dark 
 insinuations, charges of profligacy and mad- 
 ness, swelled an overpowering chorus of 
 accusation. Those envious of merit, those 
 who wanting in virtue hasten to assail its 
 violation in others that suspicion may be 
 diverted from themselves ; the entertaining
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 society scandalmonger, the caricaturist, the 
 vicious paragraphist, attacked with a strength 
 of numbers and unity of force there was no 
 counting or combating. 
 
 To invite him to her house was an act of 
 civility for which few hostesses found sufficient 
 courage : to defend him was to involve the 
 defender in a suspicion of vileriess. The 
 charges of cant against his countrymen, his 
 laughter at mediocrity, the scoffings at con- 
 vention in which he had so frequently indulged, 
 were now avenged : the gnats stung him to 
 desperation ; and three months after his wife 
 had left him, he quitted England, never more 
 to return. 
 
 Whilst in Switzerland, by the advice of his 
 friend Madame de Stael, he made another 
 effort at reconciliation, which like the first was 
 rejected by Lady Byron. Then making a 
 tour of the Bernese Alps he entered Italy, a 
 country which, because of the colour of its skies 
 and its seas, the light steeping its lands, 
 the pagan-heartedness of its people, beautiful 
 
 in themselves and worshippers of beauty in 
 
 72
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 nature, had already thrown its fascination 
 upon him. 
 
 He took up his residence in Venice and it 
 was whilst living in this city of the sea, in 
 fair spring weather, that the rosiest romance 
 in his life was begun ; a romance which the 
 limit of his days was not destined to outrun : 
 for here it was in April 1819 that he met 
 the young Countess Guiccioli, the descendant of 
 an ancient and historic line, and the third wife 
 of a wealthy old noble, to whom at the age 
 of sixteen her parents had sacrificed her. 
 
 Looking back upon their meeting with the 
 eyes of lovers, it seemed to the poet and the 
 Countess, like an arrangement of inexorable 
 fate. Madame Guiccioli had been bidden to 
 a party by the Countess Benzoni, but on the 
 evening it took place felt so fatigued that 
 she wished to absent herself, and it was only 
 in obedience to her veteran husband, proud of 
 his fair child-wife, that she reluctantly con- 
 sented to be present : whilst Byron who shrank 
 from appearing in crowds, presented himself 
 in this out of mere courtesy to the hostess 
 73
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 whose friendship he valued. When requested 
 by her to allow himself to be introduced to 
 the Countess Guiccioli he at first declined, 
 and later consented that he might not seem 
 uncivil. In this way, irrespective of their own 
 wills, ignorant of what it would entail, was 
 their meeting brought about. 
 
 From the first each read in the eyes of the 
 other the love which was mutually inspired ; 
 the love which later, in the silent water ways 
 of this dream-like city, beneath the shadows 
 of its grey arcades, in the languorous moon- 
 light upon balconies, in the spacious salons 
 of stately palaces, developed with frequent 
 meeting : the secret they stored in their 
 hearts, the more sacred for concealment; until 
 at last the consciousness and assurance of their 
 absorbing passion set their lives to music 
 which their pulses marked, and made the world 
 around a joy ; they most joyous of all beneath 
 the glamour and the glory of Italian skies. 
 
 But alas for their love this day-dream was 
 not of long continuance, for before a month 
 ended, a month which to them was but a 
 74
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 breath in the mouth of time, the Count 
 Guiccioli decided to leave Venice and return 
 to his home in Ravenna. The idea of parting 
 from the man but yesterday a stranger and 
 now the dearest of all upon earth ; he who by 
 some strange power revealed her to herself 
 and woke such feelings as she had never known 
 her nature to possess, filled her with despair; 
 sickened her body till it weakened, and made 
 her think night had untimely darkened the 
 dawn of her day. The journey however was 
 begun, she seated pale and frail a wife of 
 sixteen summers beside her aged spouse in 
 his great coach covered with armorial bear- 
 ings and drawn by six horses, and during 
 the first day's journey she was thrice seized 
 by fainting fits. 
 
 She found strength however to write to 
 the poet wherever she rested on her route ; 
 letters full of the fervent love that was burn- 
 ing up her life. In one of these she tells 
 him that the solitude of the place which before 
 had seemed intolerable, was now welcome to 
 her, for it gave her more opportunity to 
 75
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 dwell on the one object which occupied her 
 heart. And then she promises to obey his 
 wishes in avoiding all society, and to devote 
 herself to reading and music, so that she might 
 please him in every way, and prove worthy 
 of him so far as she could : for her hope lay 
 in their meeting once more, a hope without 
 which life would be unbearable. 
 
 The day after writing this letter, whilst 
 making the final stage of her journey, she 
 was attacked by an illness for which there 
 was no name, and carried to her home half 
 dead. The sensitive nature of this child of 
 the south gave way under the turbulence of 
 her love ; and the longing which tortured her 
 mind brought a fever which consumed her 
 body ; relief only coming when his letters 
 reached her expressing his devotion and his 
 determination to see her. 
 
 Towards the end of May she told him she 
 had prepared all her friends for his visit which 
 he might now make, and accordingly on the 
 second of June he set out from La Mira where 
 
 he had taken a summer villa, for Ravenna. 
 76
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 Scarcely had he entered the town when 
 rumours that an English lord had arrived, 
 spread abroad, on which Count Guiccioli 
 suspecting the visitor's personality, hastened 
 to his hotel to wait upon Byron whom he 
 requested to call upon the Countess. 
 
 Bryon willingly obeyed and was taken to 
 her residence, a great gloomy palace whose 
 decay but added to its grandeur, whose solemn 
 and melancholy atmosphere seemed to hold 
 heavy records of crime and mystery. Mount- 
 ing a magnificent staircase of white marble 
 he was led to the woman he loved who lay 
 in bed, from which her anxious relatives 
 believed she would never rise. His pain and 
 grief were intense, but only his eyes could 
 tell her what he felt : for she was jealously 
 guarded by the members of her family who 
 were natives of Ravenna. His pen however 
 could record something of his feelings, and 
 in writing to his friend Murray he says of 
 her : ' I do not know what I should do if 
 she died, but I ought to blow my brains 
 out and I hope that I should,' whilst to 
 77
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Hoppner he expresses his fears that she is 
 going into a consumption. 'Thus it is with 
 everything and everybody for whom I feel 
 anything like a real attachment ' he writes. 
 ' " War, death or discord doth lay siege to 
 them." I never could keep alive a dog that I 
 liked or that liked me.' 
 
 His presence beside her, the affection he 
 showed her, did more to restore one who, 
 like all sensitive and impressionable people, 
 depended on the happiness of her mind for 
 the health of her body, and in a couple of 
 months she was pronounced convalescent. 
 
 Byron meanwhile remained in Ravenna. 
 
 This ancient town, an early home of 
 Christian art, where Dante laid him down to 
 rest, basks in the wide-stretching plain of 
 Lombardy with its dense pine forest dividing 
 the city from the sea, its giant poplars skirt- 
 ing dusty roads, its groves of olives with their 
 grey-green leaves. Its sun-baked palaces 
 have each their history, darker perhaps than 
 their walls ; its innumerable gardens feast the 
 
 eyesight with their gorgeous colour : its 
 
 78
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 domed cathedral speaks of God invisible and 
 omnipotent ; its gates are ancient, grey, and 
 grass grown ; and its atmosphere is rich in 
 dreamy peace. What better or more fitting 
 place for love to flourish? 
 
 With these it grew apace until the Count 
 in his wisdom once more saw fit to visit his 
 estates and take his young wife with him ; 
 when Byron, impatient and wilful, proposed 
 that she should fly with him. Such a proposi- 
 tion seemed astonishing to the mind of an 
 Italian wife ; it was not that she would not 
 sacrifice everything for his love, but she con- 
 sidered an elopement unnecessary. Accord- 
 ingly when she and her husband went to 
 Bologna, Byron by arrangement followed next 
 day. ' I cannot tell how our romance will 
 end ' he writes ' but it hath gone on hitherto 
 most erotically. Such perils and escapes. 
 Juan's are as child's play in comparison.' 
 
 Having joined his friends at Bologna they 
 
 went to the theatre to see a representation of 
 
 Alfierts Mirra ; when a scene took place in 
 
 their box : for Byron then in an excitable con- 
 
 79
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 dition was so much affected by the play, that 
 he was thrown into convulsions which produced 
 ' the agony of reluctant tears ' and choking 
 shudders, witnessing which the sympathetic 
 Countess became similarly affected. Next day 
 both were 'ill, languid, and pathetic' as he 
 narrates : nor did he soon recover. 
 
 Having spent near a month with them here, 
 the Count went on to his Romagnese estates 
 taking his wife with him but leaving her friend 
 behind. This parting though it was for a brief 
 time, filled Byron with melancholy, and his 
 greatest pleasure in his loneliness was to visit 
 her empty house at the hour when formerly 
 he had sought her there ; to cause her apart- 
 ments to be opened and sit in them reading 
 her books and writing in their pages. Then 
 he would pass into the quaint, deserted garden, 
 where he walked ' under a purple canopy of 
 grapes' or sat by its fountain whose ripple 
 alone disturbed the profound stillness of the 
 place. Resting here one summer day he was 
 so overcome by the pain of her absence, by the 
 
 weirdness of his fancies, by nervous fears, and 
 
 80
 
 desolate forebodings that he burst into a passion 
 of tears that wrung his soul. 
 
 Here too in this Italian garden with its 
 wilderness of roses and the wealth of its 
 perfumes, he wrote one of the most touching 
 love letters in the language, on the last page 
 of a copy of Corinne, belonging to the 
 Countess. 
 
 'MY DEAREST TERESA, I have read this 
 book in your garden my love, you were absent, 
 or else I could not have read it. It is a 
 favourite book of yours, and the writer was a 
 friend of mine. You will not understand these 
 English words, and others will not understand 
 them which is the reason I have not scrawled 
 them in Italian. But you will recognise the 
 handwriting of him who passionately loved you, 
 and you will divine that, over a book which 
 was yours, he could only think of love. In 
 that word beautiful in all languages but most 
 so in yours amor mio is comprised my exist- 
 ence here and hereafter. I feel I exist here 
 and I fear that I shall exist hereafter to what 
 purpose you will decide : my destiny rests 
 
 VOL. I. 8l ' F
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 with you, and you are a woman seventeen 
 years of age, and two out of a convent. I wish 
 you had stayed there with all my heart or at 
 least that I had never met you in your 
 married state. 
 
 ' But this is too late. I love you and you 
 love me, at least you say so and act as if you 
 did so, which last is a great consolation in 
 all events. But I more than love you and 
 cannot cease to love you. Think of me 
 sometimes when the Alps and the ocean 
 divide us but they never will unless you 
 wish it/ 
 
 A few weeks after this was written Count 
 Guiccioli and his wife returned to Bologna, 
 but they had not been there long when the 
 former found himself called to Ravenna on 
 business and the latter discovered that illness 
 prevented her from accompanying him. He 
 therefore left her with Byron whose happiness 
 now seemed as great as was his misery before. 
 And the time of their joyousness was destined 
 to be prolonged ; for she soon concluded that 
 
 the air of Ravenna was unsuited to her health, 
 82
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 which would soonest return to her in Venice : 
 to which effect she wrote to her husband. 
 
 That philosophic man agreed that she 
 should once more visit the City of the Sea 
 and that Lord Byron should be the com- 
 panion of her voyage; and therefore they set 
 out for the place, precious to them as the 
 scene where first they had met, made beauti- 
 ful by memories, a charmed place where they 
 were free to live the dreams they once had 
 dreamt there. In Venice they spent the 
 remaining months of summer, and early in 
 autumn they removed to the poet's villa at 
 La Mira. 
 
 In November the Count came to Venice 
 and presented his spouse with a paper of con- 
 ditions, regulations of hours and conduct and 
 morals, which he insisted on her accepting 
 .and she persisted in refusing. ' I am ' Byron 
 writes ' expressly it should seem excluded 
 by this treaty, as an indispensable prelimin- 
 ary : so that they are in high discussion, and 
 what the result may be I know not, particu- 
 larly as they are consulting friends.' In case 
 83
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 that she finally parted with her husband, 
 Byron had resolved to retire with her to France 
 or to America, where under a changed name 
 he would lead a quiet, provincial life. 
 
 After a considerable struggle, from which 
 Byron held apart, the Countess reluctantly 
 consented to return to Ravenna with her 
 husband, and to hold no further communica- 
 tion with her lover. She therefore quitted 
 Venice where Byron remained melancholy, 
 ailing, and unable to make up his mind to 
 visit England. The promise forced from the 
 Countess that she would not write to the 
 poet was soon broken, and ardent letters 
 passed between them. 
 
 In one of these he declares that his state is 
 most dreadful, he not knowing which way to 
 decide fearing on the one hand to com- 
 promise her by returning to Ravenna, and 
 on the other dreading to lose all happiness 
 by seeing her no more. ' I pray you, I 
 implore you' he adds 'to be comforted, and 
 to believe that I cannot cease to love you but 
 with my life. It is not enough that I must
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 leave you, it is not enough that I must fly 
 from Italy with a heart deeply wounded, after 
 having passed all my days in solitude since 
 your departure, sick both in body and mind, 
 but I must also have to endure your re- 
 proaches without answering and without de- 
 serving them. Farewell ; in that one word 
 is comprised the death of my happiness.' 
 
 He now decided on returning to England 
 and the day of his departure was fixed. When 
 the morning came on which he was to leave 
 Venice, his packed boxes were taken to the 
 gondola at his palace gate, he himself was 
 dressed for the journey, and he merely waited 
 for his firearms to be made ready. Suddenly 
 acting on a presentiment, he declared that if 
 all were not in order before the clock struck, 
 he would not start that day. The last touches 
 which were to mark his departure had not 
 been given when the clock struck one ; his 
 gondola was unloaded and he never more saw 
 the country for which he had been about to 
 set out. 
 
 For next day brought him a letter from 
 85
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Count Gamba, father of the Countess, stating 
 that she was alarmingly ill, and fearful of the 
 consequences of opposition, her family includ- 
 ing her husband, entreated Byron to hasten 
 to her : the letter furthermore promised there 
 should be no more scenes between husband 
 and wife such as had lately disturbed his 
 lordship's domestic peace in Venice. Immedi- 
 ately he answered telling the Countess he 
 soon would be beside her and that whether 
 he ever left her again, would depend upon 
 herself. 
 
 Arriving at Ravenna he took up his residence 
 at a hotel, but only for a brief time until the 
 quarters which he was permitted by the Count 
 to rent at the Palazzo Guiccioli were made 
 ready. Again the Countess enlivened by his 
 presence rapidly recovered, and she was seen 
 in his company everywhere. ' Nobody seemed 
 surprised ; all the women on the contrary were, 
 as it were, delighted with the excellent ex- 
 ample.' The Count however after some six 
 months had elapsed, professed to become un- 
 easy : rumours of separation were in the air ; 
 86
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 cardinals and priests were implicated ; public 
 opinion was dead against him for causing such 
 a disturbance ; all her relations were furious at 
 his want of civility, and her father challenged 
 him 'a superfluous valour for he don't fight, 
 though suspected of two assassinations.' 
 Finally Byron was warned not to take long 
 rides in the pine forest without being on his 
 guard. 
 
 Eventually on a petition of the much-suffer- 
 ing Countess and her family, a decree of 
 separation came from Rome on condition 
 that the wife should henceforth live beneath 
 her father's roof. This her husband had 
 opposed because of the allowance of two 
 hundred a year a miserable sum for a man 
 of his wealth which the same decree directed 
 should be made her : and at the last moment 
 he would have forgiven all, if she had consented 
 never again to see Byron. This she declined 
 to promise, and on the i6th of July 1820, she 
 betook herself to her father's home, situated 
 some fifteen miles from Ravenna, where oc- 
 casionally she was visited by the poet 
 87
 
 Now in this year Count Gamba and his son 
 engaged themselves in a movement for the 
 freedom of Italy, and induced their friend Byron 
 to join them in such enterprise. But in a little 
 while suspicion falling on them, the Govern- 
 ment ordered the Count to quit Ravenna within 
 twenty-four hours, whilst the son was arrested 
 at night and conveyed to the frontier. The 
 Countess was now in despair, her nervous fears 
 suggesting that if she left Ravenna she would 
 see her lover no more ; and her fright was 
 heightened when news was brought her secretly 
 that her husband was appealing to Rome either 
 to have her sent back to him, or to have her 
 placed in a convent. 
 
 The exile of the Gambas was chiefly 
 decreed in the hope that Byron would share 
 their banishment ; for knowing the freedom 
 of his opinions, dreading his influence, jealous 
 of his popularity, and exaggerating the extent 
 of, his means, which they feared might be 
 used to spread liberalism, the Government 
 had long desired his absence from Ravenna 
 but had not dared to force the departure
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 of an English subject. He was however un- 
 willing to be driven from a city he liked so 
 well ; and whilst the Countess, her father, 
 and her brother took refuge in Florence, he 
 remained in Ravenna striving to get the 
 decree of banishment against his friends 
 rescinded. 
 
 Seeing the uselessness of his efforts he re- 
 solved to join them. On catching news of 
 his departure the poor of Ravenna to whom 
 he devoted a fourth part of his annual income, 
 gathering together, presented a petition to the 
 cardinal asking him to request Byron to re- 
 main. The place of the future residence of 
 the Gamba family was for some time un- 
 decided ; the Countess and her brother 
 selecting Switzerland where they would be 
 beyond the control of the Roman Government, 
 Byron suggesting Tuscany, for he never could 
 bear the Swiss ' and still less their English 
 visitors.' Accordingly in August 1821 Count 
 Gamba took a spacious palace known as the 
 Casa Lanfranchi in Pisa. Here Byron joined 
 them and at first was impressed by his new
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 home, a noble marble pile ' which seemed built 
 for eternity.' Its hall was enormous, its 
 grand staircase had been designed by Michael 
 Angelo, its windows looked down upon the 
 slow sweeping Arno. But soon Byron's 
 delight was disturbed ; and he writes to 
 Murray that it had dungeons below, cells in 
 the walls, and was full of ghosts, by whom the 
 last occupants had been sorely bothered. 
 Then he discovered a place \vhere people had 
 evidently been walled up ; all the ears in the 
 palace had been regaled by all kinds of super- 
 natural noises, and his valet begged leave to 
 change his room and then refused to occupy 
 his new apartment because there were more 
 ghosts there than in the other. 
 
 Soon more material troubles beset him. 
 Whilst riding out with a party of English 
 and Scotch, they had a brawl with a soldier 
 who had insulted one of the party, some of 
 whom were arrested. The offending soldier 
 was shortly afterwards stabbed whilst riding 
 through the streets by one of his own country- 
 men, presumably a partisan of Byron's, and 
 90
 
 LADY 8LESSING7VN 
 
 though the wounded man recovered, his 
 friends threatened vengeance with the dagger. 
 The affray caused a sensation, all kinds of 
 investigations were made, finally the Tuscan 
 Government thought itself called upon to 
 interfere, and Count Gamba and his son re- 
 ceived notice to quit Tuscany within four 
 days. 
 
 As the Countess was obliged to live beneath 
 her father's roof, Byron's removal was a fore- 
 gone conclusion. 
 
 Again the scene of their future home was 
 discussed, and South America was spoken of 
 as a fitting place, but eventually Genoa was 
 decided upon, and here they settled in 
 September 1822 in the Casa Saluzzi, in 
 a suburb of the city named Albaro: Byron 
 occupying one wing of the palace and the 
 Gamba family the other. 
 
 This was the man whom Lady Blessington 
 earnestly desired to meet ; her desire not 
 being lessened by the fear that he who in 
 general avoided his country people, might 
 decline to become acquainted with her. 
 91
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 Scarcely had she reached her hotel at Genoa, 
 the Alberga della Villa, than taking out her 
 diary she wrote : 
 
 ' And am I indeed in the same town with 
 Byron ? To-morrow I may perhaps behold 
 him. I never before felt the same impatient 
 longing to see anyone known to me only by 
 his works. I hope he may not be fat as Moore 
 described him ; for a fat poet is an anomaly 
 in my opinion. Well well, to-morrow I may 
 know what he is like, and now to bed to sleep 
 away the fatigues of my journey.'
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Lord Blessington visits Byron The Poet and the 
 Countess First Impressions -Personal Appear- 
 ance His English Visitors Reference to His 
 Child A Pleasant Talk Flippant Manner 
 Count D'Orsay's Diary Dining with the Bless- 
 ingtons His Desire to grow Thin Death of 
 Lord Blessington's Heir Lord Byron's Sym- 
 pathy His Expedition to Greece Melancholy 
 Presentiments His Superstitions Impromptu 
 Lines Farewell. 
 
 LITTLE time was lost in surmise as to whether 
 Byron would be gracious to the Blessingtons, or 
 would refuse to receive them as he had already 
 done to many acquaintances who had called 
 on him. For next day, a bright and happy 
 April day with the gladdening of spring in 
 the sunny air, Lady Blessington, her husband, 
 her sister, and Count D'Orsay drove to- 
 the village of Albaro, passing through Genoa, 
 with its lively crowds of sailors, soldiers, and 
 93
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 civilians, living pictures in themselves ; its 
 narrow streets and tall red-hued houses ; its 
 magnificent palaces, spacious and sombre ; its 
 hanging gardens covering and crowning its 
 rocky heights ; and the sight of its sea, a 
 flashing of blue caught in the winding of the 
 ways. 
 
 The Earl it will be remembered had known 
 Byron, with whom he was not only desirous 
 of renewing his acquaintance, but to whom he 
 was anxious to introduce his wife. The 
 poet was at this time in his thirty-sixth year. 
 On arriving at the gate of the courtyard 
 Lord Blessington and Count D'Orsay sent in 
 their names and were immediately admitted, 
 when they received a cordial reception from 
 Byron who expressed himself delighted to see 
 a former friend and hoped he might have 
 the pleasure of being presented to Lady 
 Blessington. On this the latter said that she 
 and her sister were in the carriage at the gate. 
 
 ' Byron then ' as the Countess writes ' immedi- 
 ately hurried out into the court, and I who 
 heard the sound of steps, looked through the 
 
 94
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 gate and beheld him approaching quickly 
 without his hat and considerably in advance 
 of the other two gentlemen. 
 
 "'You must have thought me quite as ill- 
 bred and savage as fame reports" said Byron 
 bowing very low " in having permitted your 
 ladyship to remain a quarter of an hour at 
 my gate ; but my old friend Lord Blessington 
 is to blame, for I only heard a minute ago 
 that I was so highly honoured. I shall think 
 you do not pardon this apparent rudeness 
 unless you enter my abode, which I entreat 
 you will do " and he offered his hand to assist 
 me to descend from the carriage. 
 
 ' In the vestibule stood his chasseur in full 
 uniform, with two or three other domestics, 
 and the expression of surprise visible in their 
 countenances evinced that they were not 
 habituated to see their lord display so much 
 cordiality to visitors.' 
 
 At first Lady Blessington felt disappointed 
 
 by the appearance of the poet, because he 
 
 was unlike the ideal she had imagined of the 
 
 author of Manfred and Childe Harold. She 
 
 95
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 had expected to find him a dignified, cold, 
 reserved, and haughty individual, resembling 
 the mysterious personages he loved to paint 
 in his works, and with whom he has been so 
 often identified by the world : but nothing she 
 considered could be more different ; ' for were 
 I to point out the prominent defect of Lord 
 Byron, I should say it was flippancy and a 
 total want of that natural self-possession and 
 dignity which ought to characterise a man of 
 birth and education.' On reflection however 
 she admitted that most people would be more 
 than satisfied with his appearance and capti- 
 vated by his manner ; for the first was pre- 
 possessing and the second cordial. 
 
 ' His head ' she writes ' is peculiarly well- 
 shaped, the forehead high, open, and highly 
 indicative of intellectual power; his eyes are 
 grey and expressive, one is visibly larger than 
 the other ; his nose looks handsome in profile, 
 but in front is somewhat clumsy ; the eyebrows 
 are well defined and flexible ; the mouth is 
 faultless, the upper lip being of Grecian short- 
 ness and both as finely chiselled, to use an 
 96
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 artist's phrase, as those of an antique statue. 
 There is a scornful expression in the latter 
 feature that does not deteriorate from its 
 beauty. His chin is large but well-shaped 
 and not at all fleshy, and finishes well his 
 face, which is of an oval form. His hair has 
 already much of silver among its dark brown 
 curls ; its texture is very silky, and although 
 it retreats from his temples leaving his fore- 
 head very bare, its growth at the sides and 
 back of his head is abundant. 
 
 ' I have seldom seen finer teeth than Lord 
 Byron's, and never a smoother or more fair 
 skin, for though very pale, his is not the 
 pallor of ill-health. He is so exceedingly 
 thin that his figure has an almost boyish air ; 
 and yet there is something so striking in his 
 whole appearance that could not be mistaken 
 for an ordinary person. I do not think that 
 I should have observed his lameness, had my 
 attention not been called to it by his own 
 visible consciousness of this infirmity a 
 consciousness that gives a gaucherte to his 
 movements.' 
 
 VOL. I. 97 G
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 The residence of the poet was a fine old 
 palace commanding a wide view over olive 
 woods and vineyards that stretched to the 
 bases of the purple Apennines. The saloon 
 into which he led his visitors was high- 
 ceilinged, spacious, and barely furnished, its 
 windows on one side looking into the court- 
 yard and on the other into a stately garden, 
 with orange trees and cedars, terraces and 
 fountains. Into this somewhat sombre room 
 Lady Blessington, her expressive face bright 
 with smiles of triumph and gratification, her 
 exquisite toilette radiant with colour, came as 
 a glow of sunshine. Her host showed even- 
 sign of enjoying the company of his visitors. 
 
 At first the conversation turned on mutual 
 friends, and then on the number of English 
 people who pestered him with visits, though 
 a great number were unknown to and many 
 of them but slightly acquainted with him. He 
 stated that he steadily refused to receive any 
 but those he really wished to see ; as for the 
 others he added ' they avenge themselves by 
 attacking me in every sort of way, and there
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 is no story too improbable for the craving 
 appetites of our slander-loving countrymen.' 
 
 On the walls hung a small portrait of his 
 daughter and another of himself, and seeing 
 Lady Blessington looking attentively at the 
 former, he took it from its place and handed 
 it to her. She remarked that the child bore 
 him a strong resemblance which seemed to 
 gratify him. 
 
 ' I am told she is clever ' he said ' but I 
 hope not ; and above all I hope she is not 
 poetical. The price paid for such advantages, 
 if advantages they be, is such as to make 
 me pray that my child may escape them.' 
 
 As he talked to her and her party, Lady 
 Blessington who was a shrewd observer, had 
 opportunities of noticing various characteristics 
 of the poet.VHe had the smallest hands she 
 had ever seen with a man, finely-shaped, deli- 
 cately white, the nails rose-coloured and highly 
 polished so that they resembled delicate pink 
 shells : his voice was clear melodious but 
 somewhat effeminate, and his enunciation so 
 distinct that though his tone was low pitched 
 99
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 not a word was lost ; whilst his laughter was 
 music itself. Finally she thought he owed 
 less to his clothes than any man of her ac- 
 quaintance, they being not only old-fashioned 
 but ill-fitting, )s 
 
 When she proposed to end her visit he urged 
 her to stay, and time passed pleasantly. When 
 eventually she rose he warmly expressed the 
 gratification the visit had given him, and Lady 
 Blessington states that she did not doubt his 
 sincerity : not that she claimed any merit to 
 account for his satisfaction, but that she saw 
 he liked hearing news of his old haunts and 
 associates ' and likes also to pass them en revue, 
 pronouncing en passant opinions in which wit 
 and sly sarcasm are more obvious than good 
 nature. Yet' she adds 'he does not give me 
 the impression that he is ill-natured or mali- 
 cious, even whilst uttering remarks that imply 
 the presence of these qualities. It appears 
 to me that they proceed from a reckless levity 
 of disposition that renders him incapable of 
 checking the spirituels but sarcastic sallies 
 which the possession of a very uncommon
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 degree of shrewdness, and a still more rare 
 wit, occasion : and seeing how he amuses 
 his hearers, he cannot resist the temptation, 
 although at the expense of many whom he 
 proposes to like.' 
 
 Neither during this visit nor whilst she 
 remained in Genoa, did Lady Blessington see 
 the Countess Guiccioli ; of whom however 
 Byron in his subsequent conversations fre- 
 quently spoke. The young Italian who was 
 wholly devoted to the poet, led a life of re- 
 tirement and was seldom seen outside the 
 grounds of the Casa Saluzzi. 
 
 On the day succeeding the visit of Lady 
 Blessington and her party to the Casa Saluzzi, 
 Lord Byron presented himself at their hotel, 
 first sending up two cards in an envelope 
 as a preliminary to his entrance. They had 
 just finished deje/iner, but the earliness of his 
 visit did not hinder his welcome. On his 
 part the poet was brighter and more buoyant 
 than before. 
 
 Lady Blessington told him that as early 
 as nine that morning she had been to the 
 
 101
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 flower market, and expressed surprise that the 
 
 | 
 
 poorest classes bought flowers as if they were 
 the necessaries of life, when Lord Byron fell 
 to praising the people and the city, enumerat- 
 ing amongst its other advantages that it 
 contained so few English either as residents 
 or birds of passage. And as during their 
 previous meeting, so once more did their 
 conversation turn on mutual friends, when 
 Tom Moore amongst others was discussed. 
 Byron spoke more warmly of the Irish bard's 
 attractions as a companion, than of his merits 
 as a poet. ' Lai la Rookh ' though beautiful was 
 disappointing to Byron who considered Moore 
 would go down to posterity because of his 
 melodies which were perfect ; and he declared 
 he had never been so affected as on hearing 
 Moore sing one of them, particularly ' When 
 first I met thee' which he said made him 
 cry ; adding with an arch glance ' but it was 
 after I had drunk a certain portion of very 
 potent white brandy.' 
 
 As he laid particular stress on the word 
 affected Lady Blessington smiled, when he
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 asked her the cause, on which she told him 
 the story of a lady who on offering her con- 
 dolence to a poor Irishwoman on the death 
 of her child, stated that she had never been 
 so affected in her life : on hearing which the 
 poor woman, who knew the insincerity of the 
 remark, looked up and said ' Sure thin ma'am 
 that's saying a great deal, for you were 
 always affected.' 
 
 All present laughed at this, and then Lady 
 Holland was brought upon the board. Lady 
 Blessington felt surprised by his flippancy 
 in talking of those for whom he expressed a 
 regard, understanding which he remarked 
 laughingly that he feared he should lose her 
 good opinion by his frankness, but that when 
 the fit was on him he could not help saying 
 what he thought, though he often repented 
 it when too late. 
 
 Throughout his conversation he continually 
 censured his own country. His friends told 
 him Count D'Orsay had during his visit to 
 London kept a journal in which he dealt freely 
 with the follies of society. This interested
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Byron much, and led him to ask permission 
 to read the manuscript, which D'Orsay freely 
 gave him. Throughout this visit which lasted 
 for two hours, he said very little of his own 
 works ; and Lady Blessington thought he had 
 far less pretension than any literary man of her 
 acquaintance, and not the slightest shade of 
 pedantry. 
 
 Before leaving he promised to dine with them 
 on the following Thursday ; theirs being, as he 
 assured them, the first invitation to dinner he 
 had accepted for two years. 
 
 On returning to his palazzo, Byron sat down 
 and wrote to Moore ' I have just seen some 
 friends of yours who paid me a visit yesterday, 
 which in honour of them and of you, I returned 
 to-day ; as I reserve my bearskin and teeth, and 
 paws and claws for our enemies. . . . Your allies, 
 whom I found very agreeable personages, are 
 Milor Blessington and cpouse, travelling with a 
 very handsome companion in the shape of a 
 ' French count ' (to use Farquhar's phrase in 
 the ' Beau's Stratagem ') who has all the air of a 
 
 Cupidon dechaine, and is one of the few specimens 
 104
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 I have seen of our ideal of a Frenchman before 
 the Revolution an old friend with a new face 
 upon whose like I never thought that we should 
 look again. Miladi seems highly literary, to 
 which and your honour's acquaintance with the 
 family I attribute the pleasure of having seen 
 them. She is also very pretty, even in a morn- 
 ing, a species of beauty on which the sun of 
 Italy does not shine so frequently as the 
 chandelier.' 
 
 Having read the journal of Count D'Orsay, 
 in whom he was already interested, he returned 
 it to Lord Blessington remarking that it was ' a 
 very extraordinary production and of a most 
 melancholy truth in all that regards high life 
 in England.' 
 
 ' I know ' he continues ' or know personally 
 most of the personages and societies which he 
 describes ; and after reading his remarks have 
 the sensation fresh upon me as if I had seen 
 them yesterday. I would however plead in 
 behalf of some few exceptions, which I will 
 mention by-and-by. The most singular thing 
 is, how he should have penetrated not the facts
 
 THE_ MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 but the mystery of English ennui, at two-and- 
 twenty. I was about the same age when I 
 made the same discovery in almost precisely 
 the same circles for there is scarcely a person 
 whom I did not see nightly or daily, and was 
 acquainted more or Mess intimately with most 
 of them but I never could have discovered it 
 so well, II faut etre Francais to effect this. 
 
 ' But he ought also to have been in the 
 country during the hunting season, with M a 
 select party of distinguished guests " as the 
 papers term it. He ought to have seen the 
 gentlemen after dinner (on the hunting days) 
 and the soiree ensuing thereupon and the 
 women looking as if they had hunted, or rather 
 been hunted : and I could have wished that he 
 had been at a dinner in town, which I recollect 
 at Lord Cowper's small but select, and composed 
 of the most amusing people. 
 
 ' Altogether your friend's journal is a very for- 
 midable production. Alas our dearly beloved 
 countrymen have only discovered that they 
 are tired and not that they are tiresome : and 
 
 I suspect that the communication of the latter 
 1 06
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 unpleasant verity will not be better received 
 than truths usually are. I have read the whole 
 with great attention and instruction I am too 
 good a patriot to say pleasure at least I 
 won't say so whatever I may think.' 
 
 Now the fact that Byron was to dine with the 
 Blessingtons on a certain evening, having got 
 noised abroad probably through the servants, 
 the English residents in the Albergo della Villa 
 and other hotels assembled in the courtyard, 
 on the stairs, and in the corridors to see him 
 arrive and greet him with a stolid British stare. 
 Fortunately for his hosts he was not in a 
 humour to resent this intrusion, but appeared 
 in good spirits as he entered their salon, for 
 when in good humour he set down the stares 
 and comments of his country-people whenever 
 they met him, to their admiration ; but when 
 worried or depressed he resented them as im- 
 pertinent curiosity, caused by the scandalous 
 histories he believed were circulated regarding 
 him. No sooner was he in the room than he 
 began to talk of himself though not of his 
 
 poems : his animated countenance changing its 
 
 107
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 expression with the subjects that excited his 
 feelings. 
 
 Lady Blessington thought it strange that he 
 should speak to recent acquaintances with such 
 perfect abandon on subjects which even friends 
 would consider too delicate for discussion. 
 His family affairs were debated and details 
 given. He declared he was in ignorance of 
 why his wife had parted from him, but sus- 
 pected it was through the ill - natured inter- 
 ference of others, and that he had left no 
 means untried to effect a reconciliation. He 
 added with some bitterness that a day would 
 come when he would be avenged, for ' I feel ' 
 he said 'that I shall not live long, and when 
 the grave has closed over me what must she 
 feel.' 
 
 Afterwards he went on to praise the mental 
 and personal qualities of his wife, when 
 Lady Blessington ventured to say that the ap- 
 preciation he expressed some\vhat contradicted 
 the sarcasms supposed to refer to Lady 
 Byron in his works. At this the poet shook 
 
 his head and his face lighted with a smile as 
 1 08
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 he explained that what he had written was 
 meant to spite and v r ex her at a time when 
 he was wounded and irritated at her refusing 
 to receive or answer his letters. He was sorry 
 for what he had penned regarding her, but 
 'notwithstanding this regret and all his good 
 resolutions to avoid similar sins, he might 
 on renewed provocation recur to the same 
 vengeance, though he allowed it was petty 
 and unworthy of him.' 
 
 In all his conversations this singular man 
 whose character was a mass of contradictions, 
 delighted in confessing his faults : how he could 
 bear to have them recognised by another, 
 remained to be proved. Lady Blessington 
 shrewdly enough remarks that those who show 
 the greatest frankness in admitting their errors, 
 are precisely the people who resent their detec- 
 tion by others. She did not think Byron in- 
 .sincere in commenting on his defects, for his 
 perception was too keen to leave him unaware of 
 them ; and his desire of proving his perception 
 was too great not to give proof of this power 
 
 by self analysis. It appeared to her as if he 
 109
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 were more ready to own than to correct his 
 faults ; and that he considered his candour in 
 acknowledging them an amende honorable. 
 
 ' There is an indescribable charm to me at 
 least ' she writes ' in hearing people to whom 
 genius of the highest order is ascribed, indulge 
 in egotistical conversation ; more especially 
 when they are free from affectation, and all are 
 more or less so when talking of self, a subject 
 on which they speak con amore. It is like 
 reading their diaries by which we learn more 
 of the individuals than by any other means.' 
 
 At dinner that evening the poet was in 
 high spirits and enjoyed himself heartily. 
 Turning to his hostess he hoped she was not 
 shocked by seeing him eating so much 'but 
 the truth is ' he added ' that for several months 
 I have been following a most abstemious regime, 
 living almost entirely on vegetables ; and now 
 that I see a good dinner I cannot resist tempta- 
 tion, though to-morrow I shall suffer for my 
 gourmandise as I always do when I indulge in 
 luxuries.' This he added was a jour de fete 
 when he would eat, drink, and make merry.
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 The scheme of living which he followed 
 consisted not only in dieting himself on vege- 
 tables, drinking vinegar, taking medicine in 
 excess, but at times in enduring pangs of 
 hunger, by means of which he hoped to 
 master a natural tendency to stoutness, and 
 by keeping thin to preserve that finer outline 
 of face and symmetry of form which gave in- 
 terest to his appearance and youthfulness to 
 his figure. \ 
 
 He explained to his friends that no choice 
 was left him but to sacrifice his body to his 
 mind : that if he lived as others, he would 
 not only be ill, but would lose his intellectual 
 faculties. To eat animal food, he argued, was 
 to engender animal appetites ; as proof of 
 which he instanced the manner in which 
 boxers are fed : whilst to live on fish and 
 vegetables was to support without pamper- 
 ing existence. 
 
 He took evident pride in arriving at a result 
 which cost him so much pain ; and with a 
 boyish air would ask ' Don't you think I get 
 thinner ? ' or again ' Did you ever see anyone
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 so thin as I am who was not ill ? ' One day 
 Lady Blessington assuming a grave face and 
 a serious air assured him she believed that 
 his living so continually on fish resulted in his 
 fondness for and his skill in swimming ; a 
 theory which he was ready to admit, and 
 would have discoursed on, if, unable to com- 
 mand herself, she had not burst out laughing, 
 a proceeding that at first puzzled him, but in 
 which he joined a second later saying, 
 
 ' Well Miladi, after this hour never accuse 
 me any more of mystifying : you did take me 
 in until you laughed.' 
 
 This desired condition of thinness was 
 really obtained at the expense of his health. 
 He obstinately resisted the advice of medical 
 men and friends, who assured him of his 
 folly in continuing austerities that were 
 certainly undermining his constitution, which 
 would have no power of recovery if once 
 attacked by illness : a prediction not long 
 afterwards fulfilled. 
 
 It was on the second day after Byron had 
 dined with the Blessingtons, that news was 
 
 112
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 brought them of an event destined to in- 
 fluence the lives of two at least of the party, 
 though unforeseen by them. Lady Blessington 
 and her husband were in the salon of their 
 hotel when they saw a courier covered 
 with dust ride into the courtyard. A pre- 
 sentiment of evil seized her, as she relates, 
 a presentiment which was verified a moment 
 later when a letter was handed the Earl 
 stating that his only legitimate son and heir, 
 Viscount Mountjoy was dead. The boy then 
 about ten years old had been ailing for some 
 time ; but as the Countess writes ' although 
 long prepared for this melancholy event, it 
 has fallen on us as heavily as if we counted 
 on his days being lengthened. Poor dear 
 Mountjoy, he expired on the 26th of March, 
 and Carlo Forte the courier, reached this from 
 London in eight days. Well may it be said 
 that bad news travels quickly.' 
 
 This intelligence fell like a shadow on the 
 party for a little while, during which Byron 
 showed the greatest kindness and feeling to- 
 wards Lord Blessington. ' There is a gentle- 
 
 VOL. I. 113 H
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 ness and almost womanly softness in his 
 manner towards him that is peculiarly pleas- 
 ing to witness ' Lady Blessington writes. Her 
 favourite horse Mameluke having arrived, the 
 whole party rode to Nervi a few days later, 
 the poet acting as their cicerone. He was 
 neither a good nor a bold rider, though he 
 had much pretensions to horsemanship and 
 when mounted must have presented an extra- 
 ordinary figure ; for his horse was covered 
 with trappings, whilst the saddle was a la 
 hussarde, its holsters bristling with pistols. 
 The rider wore nankeen jacket and trousers 
 a trifle shrunk from washing, the jacket em- 
 broidered, the waist short, the back narrow, 
 three rows of buttons in front ; a black satin 
 stock clasping his neck; on his head a dark 
 blue velvet cap with a shade, a rich gold 
 tassel hanging from the crown : nankeen 
 gaiters, and a pair of blue spectacles. 
 
 Knowing Genoa and its surroundings he 
 pointed out sites of surpassing beauty, but 
 a certain indifference he exhibited towards 
 
 their charm surprised Lady Blessington, on 
 114
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 expressing which he said laughingly ' I sup- 
 pose you expected me to explode into some 
 enthusiastic exclamations on the sea, the 
 scenery etc., such as poets indulge in, or 
 rather are supposed to indulge in ; but the 
 truth is I hate cant of every kind, and the 
 cant of the love of nature as much as any 
 other.' ' So ' she comments ' to avoid the 
 appearance of one affectation he assumes 
 another, that of not admiring.' 
 
 His views regarding art brought her greater 
 surprise. He liked music without knowing 
 anything of it as a science, of which he was 
 glad, as he feared a perfect knowledge would 
 rob music of half its charms. ' At present 
 I only know ' he said ' that a plaintive air 
 softens, and a lively one cheers me. Martial 
 music renders me brave, and voluptuous music 
 disposes me to be luxurious, even effeminate. 
 Now were I skilled in the science I should 
 become fastidious ; and instead of yielding to 
 the fascination of sweet sounds, I should be 
 analysing, or criticising, or connoisseurshipising 
 (to use a word oi my own making) instead 
 "5
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 of simply enjoying them as at present. In 
 the same way I never would study botany. 
 1 don't want to know why certain flowers 
 please me ; enough for me that they do, and 
 I leave to those who have no better occupa- 
 tion, the analyses of the sources of their 
 pleasure, which I can enjoy without the use- 
 less trouble.' 
 
 His love of flowers amounted to a pas- 
 sion, and this and his charity were two 
 beautiful traits in his character ; for he never 
 refused to give when asked, and always gave 
 with a gentleness and kindness that en- 
 hanced the giving ; so that the poor knew 
 and loved him and came to him in their needs 
 and sorrows. Perfumes also had a strong 
 effect upon him and as he said, often made 
 him quite sentimental. 
 
 Byron seemed as delighted with the com- 
 panionship of the Blessingtons as they were 
 with his, and he was continually dining, or 
 riding with them, writing to or calling on 
 them, or sitting for his portrait to D'Orsay 
 
 in their salon, and this close association enabled 
 116
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 the Countess to notice many traits in him 
 before unsuspected. Now he comes to drink 
 tea with her after dinner, and being animated 
 tells stories of his London life, gossips about 
 acquaintances and mimics the people he de- 
 scribes, ridiculing their vanities and telling 
 their secrets. He delighted in hearing what 
 was passing in the world of fashion, and 
 his correspondents in London kept him au 
 courant of its scandals. One day Lady 
 Blessington suggested that attention to such 
 trifles was unworthy of a mind like his, when 
 he answered that the trunk of an elephant 
 which could lift a great weight did not disdain 
 a small one, and he confessed to loving a 
 little scandal as he believed all English people 
 did. 
 
 Another day he calls upon her, fuming with 
 indignation because of an attack on him, first 
 made in an American paper and afterwards 
 copied into Galignani, from the effects of 
 which his temper did not recover for several 
 days ; for never was man so sensitive to the 
 
 censures and opinions of those whom he neither 
 117
 
 THE MOST GO KG EO US 
 
 knew nor respected ; whilst at the same time 
 he showed a want of perception and dis- 
 regard to the feelings of others ; a not 
 uncommon combination, which is the result 
 of egotism. 
 
 Again he rides out with her and speaks of 
 his expedition to Greece, and jests at the 
 intention of his turning soldier ; but his 
 laughter is not genuine enough to cover the 
 seriousness with which he viewed the project. 
 On this his companion held out the hope 
 that he would return full of glory in having 
 fought in the cause of freedom, so that his 
 country would feel proud of him ; but at that 
 prospect he mournfully shook his head, say- 
 ing he had more than once dreamt that he 
 would die in Greece, and continually had a 
 presentiment that such would be the case. 
 
 Asked why he did not then give up all 
 idea of the expedition, he replied that he 
 would yield himself to the dictates of fate ; 
 he had always believed his life would not be 
 long ; he did not wish to live to old age ; 
 
 and he desired to rest his bones in a country 
 118
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 hallowed by the recollections of youth and 
 dreams of happiness never realised. 
 
 ' A grassy bed in Greece and a grey stone 
 to mark the spot ' he said ' would please me 
 more than a marble tomb in Westminster 
 Abbey, an honour which if I were to die in 
 England, I suppose could not be refused to 
 me : for though my compatriots were un- 
 willing to let me live in peace in the land of 
 my fathers, they would not, kind souls, object 
 to my ashes resting in peace among those of 
 the poets of my country.' 
 
 Poor Byron, though he made immense 
 allowances for the hypocrisy, narrowness, 
 and uncharitableness of his countrymen, he 
 failed to foresee the fierceness of a chastity 
 that denied to his bust a niche in the Abbey. 
 
 Not only did he believe in fate, but he placed 
 faith in supernatural appearances, in lucky 
 and unlucky days, would never undertake any 
 act of importance on Fridays, and had the 
 greatest horror of letting bread fall, spilling 
 salt, or breaking mirrors. Whenever he spoke 
 
 of ghosts as he was fond of doing, ' he assumes,' 
 119
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 as Lady Blessington writes ' a grave and 
 mysterious air, and he has told me some 
 extraordinary stories relative to Mr Shelley 
 who, he assures me, had an implicit belief in 
 ghosts.' The fact that she did not share his 
 belief in the supernatural, seemed to offend 
 him, and he said that she must therefore 
 believe herself wiser than he, 'and he left me' 
 she tells us 'evidently displeased at my want 
 of superstition.' 
 
 One delicious evening in May when the 
 blue of the sea and the balm of its breath 
 tempted the Blessingtons to set out on a 
 boating excursion, Byron felt inclined to 
 accept their invitation to accompany them, 
 ' but when we were about to embark ' narrates 
 Lady Blessington ' a superstitious presentiment 
 induced him to give up the water party, 
 which set us all laughing at him, which he 
 bore very well, although he half smiled and 
 said " No, no, good folk, you shall not laugh 
 me out of my superstition, even though you 
 may think me a fool for it." ' 
 
 Two days later he wrote her a note in
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 which occurs the sentence ' I did well to 
 avoid the water party why is a mystery 
 which is not less to be wondered at than all 
 my other mysteries.' 
 
 After a stay of about six weeks in Genoa 
 the Blessingtons, having seen all the city and 
 its environs had to show, began to make pre- 
 parations to resume their journey which they 
 now decided was to end in Naples. The 
 prospect of losing such pleasant neighbours 
 and friends was displeasing to Byron who 
 warmly urged them to remain until he had 
 started for Greece. The force and frequency 
 with which he returned to the subject was 
 flattering, and the pouting sulkiness, like a 
 child crossed in a whim, with which he resented 
 their refusal, was amusing. His displeasure 
 increasing, he declared he would never dine 
 with them again at their hotel, now he saw 
 how little disposed they were to gratify 
 him ; when his hostess with some dignity 
 declared that had she known his dining 
 with them was considered a sacrifice by him, 
 she never would have invited him ; on which 
 
 121
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 reproof he seemed a little ashamed of his 
 petulance. 
 
 Then he took them to see an extremely 
 picturesque but slightly dilapidated villa named 
 II Paradiso, situated near his own palace, 
 which he suggested they should rent. Lady 
 Blessington admired it greatly, when the poet 
 taking a pencil wrote the following lines : 
 
 ' Beneath Blessington's eyes 
 
 The reclaimed paradise 
 Should be free as the former from evil ; 
 
 But if the new Eve 
 
 For an apple should grieve, 
 What mortal would not play the devil ?' 
 
 Handing her this he said ' In future times 
 people will come to see II Paradiso where 
 Byron wrote an impromptu on his country- 
 woman ; thus our names will be associated 
 when we have long ceased to exist.' To this 
 Lady Blessington added in her diary 'And 
 heaven only knows to how many commentaries 
 so simple an incident may hereafter give 
 rise.' 
 
 Eventually the Blessingtons decided not to
 
 LADY BLESS1NGTON 
 
 take the villa, and the day of their departure 
 from Genoa was fixed. Byron, who foresaw 
 how much he should miss their pleasant com- 
 pany, became graver in his manner and con- 
 tinually dwelt on his journey to Greece. If 
 he outlived the campaign, he declared he 
 would write two poems on the subject, one an 
 epic and the other a burlesque in which none 
 would be spared, himself least of all : for if 
 he took liberties with them he took greater 
 freedoms with himself, and he thought they 
 ought to bear with him out of consideration 
 for his impartiality. 
 
 This he said when making one of those 
 efforts at gaiety that only showed more clearly 
 the underlying sadness with which he viewed 
 his projected expedition. ' I have made as 
 many sacrifices to liberty' he remarked one 
 day 'as most people of my age, and the one 
 I am about to undertake is not the least, 
 though probably it will be the last : for with 
 my broken health and the chances of war, 
 Greece will most likely terminate my mortal 
 career. I like Italy, its climate, its customs, 
 123
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 and above all its freedom from cant of every 
 kind, which is the primum mobile of England ; 
 therefore it is no slight sacrifice of comfort to 
 give up the tranquil life I lead here, and break 
 through the ties I have formed, to engage in 
 a cause for the successful result of which I 
 have no very sanguine hopes.' 
 
 And then he added that though he feared 
 his hearer might think him more superstitious 
 than ever, he would repeat that he had a pre- 
 sentiment he should die in Greece. ' I hope 
 it may be in action' he continued, 'for that 
 would be a good finish to a very triste exist- 
 ence, and I have a horror of death-bed scenes ; 
 but as I have not been famous for my luck 
 in life, most probably I shall not have more 
 in the manner of my death, and I may draw 
 my last sigh, not on the field of glory, but on 
 the bed of disease. I very nearly died when 
 I was in Greece in my youth ; perhaps as things 
 have turned out it would have been well if I 
 had ; I should have lost nothing and the world 
 very little, and I should have escaped many 
 
 cares, for God knows I have had enough of 
 124
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 one kind or another : but I am getting gloomy ? 
 and looking either back or forward is not 
 calculated to enliven me. One of the reasons 
 why I quiz my friends in conversation is, that 
 it keeps me from thinking of myself.' 
 
 As the days passed he frequently expressed 
 a wish to return to England, if only for a few 
 weeks, before departing for Greece ; but though 
 he was lord of himself in all ways, he never, 
 from want of firmness of determination, put 
 this desire into effect. His principal reason 
 for wishing to visit his native land was to 
 hold his little daughter for once in his arms, 
 and if possible to see and become reconciled 
 to his wife, who had refused all explanation of 
 the cause of her separation from him, all 
 attempt at reconciliation, who had returned 
 his letters unopened, and who had remained 
 silent whilst his enemies attributed various 
 and contradictory phases of vileness to him. 
 That which influenced him most in prevent- 
 ing him from visiting England was the fear 
 that his wife would continue her heartless 
 conduct towards him, that his child would 
 125
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 be prevented from seeing him, and that any 
 step his affection might prompt him to take 
 in asserting his right to see her, would be 
 misrepresented as an act of barbarous tyranny 
 and persecution towards mother and child, 
 when he would be driven from England more 
 vilified and with greater ignominy than on his 
 separation. 
 
 ' Such is my idea of the justice of public 
 opinion in England ' he said ' and with such 
 woeful experiences as I have had, can you 
 wonder that I dare not encounter the annoy- 
 ances I have detailed. But if I live and 
 return from Greece with something better 
 and higher than the reputation or glory of a 
 poet, opinions may change, as the successful 
 are always judged favourably of in our 
 country : my laurels may cover my faults 
 better than the bays have done, and give a 
 totally different reading to my thoughts, 
 words, and actions.' 
 
 Before his friends left he wished to buy 
 Lady Blessington's favourite horse Mameluke ; 
 
 and to sell his yacht to Lord Blessington. 
 126
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 On first seeing Mameluke, Byron had ex- 
 pressed great admiration for him. Thinking 
 him a docile easily-managed beast, he had 
 asked innumerable questions about him, and 
 subsequently requested as a favour that his 
 owner would sell him ; the poet stating he 
 would take Mameluke to Greece, for with 
 so steady a charger he would feel confidence 
 in action, and that he would never part with 
 him. 
 
 Lady Blessington who was fond of all animals, 
 was much attached to this horse, and was re- 
 luctant to sell him : she knew moreover she 
 would have great difficulty in replacing him : 
 yet her good nature prompting her, she con- 
 sented to Byron's frequent entreaties and 
 agreed to part with Mameluke. 
 
 The horse had cost a hundred guineas, but 
 when the hour of payment came, Byron wrote 
 to say that he could not afford to give more 
 than eighty pounds ' as I have to undergo con- 
 siderable expense at the present time.' No 
 wonder Lady Blessington writes ' How strange 
 
 to beg and entreat to have the horse resigned 
 127
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 to him, and then name a price less than he 
 cost' 
 
 In openly dwelling on his own faults as 
 was his habit, Byron had said that in addi- 
 tion to others, avarice was now established ; 
 and again when stating that his friend Hob- 
 house had pointed out many imperfections of 
 character to him, the poet continued ' I could 
 have told him of some more which he had 
 not discovered, for even then avarice had made 
 itself strongly felt in my nature.' Whilst at 
 Genoa the Blessingtons had frequent oppor- 
 tunities of noting his love for money ; for 
 in making the rounds of the city with them, 
 he would occasionally express his delight at 
 some specimen of art or article of furniture 
 until he had inquired the price, when he 
 shrank back at thought of the expense, and 
 congratulated himself on requiring no such 
 luxuries. 
 
 Before leaving they were to have a further 
 proof of this peculiarity. As he was going to 
 Greece he had no need for his yacht, the 
 
 Bolivar, which as already stated he wished 
 128
 
 Lord Blessington to buy. The boat was luxuri- 
 ously furnished, and its couches of Genoese 
 velvet and its marble baths particularly pleased 
 Lady Blessington, who was, however, more 
 attracted by the fact that he had written 
 several of his poems on board. It was there- 
 fore agreed that they should buy the yacht, 
 the price of which was left for Mr Barry, 
 Byron's friend and banker, to determine : but 
 when the latter fixed a sum, Byron demanded 
 a higher figure, which the extravagant Irish 
 peer gave without condescending to bargain. 
 ' The poet is certainly fond of money ' com- 
 ments Lady Blessington. 
 
 On the 2/th of May Byron dined with his 
 hospitable friends, ' our last dinner together 
 for heaven knows how long, perhaps for ever ' 
 writes the hostess. None of those who sat 
 round the board was gay ; Byron least of all. 
 Looking paler and thinner than ever, he fell 
 into silence continually, from which he roused 
 himself to assume an appearance of gaiety. 
 Once more he spoke of his expedition 
 
 to Greece and wished he had not pledged 
 VOL. i. 129 i
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 himself to go ; adding that having promised, 
 he must now fulfil his engagement. Then 
 he eagerly grasped at an idea held out 
 to him of paying a visit before he left to 
 his friends when they reached Naples, 
 and sailing in the bay on board the Bolivar: 
 and with this pleasant hope he left them for 
 that night. 
 
 Four evenings later came a time of trial for 
 all of them when the poet, pale and dejected, 
 entered the salon to say farewell. In this 
 melancholy hour the presentiment that he 
 would never return from his expedition and 
 that they would never meet again seemed to 
 strengthen to certainty. ' Here we are now all 
 together ' he said sadly ' but when and where 
 shall we meet again ? I have a sort of boding 
 that we see each other for the last time; as 
 something tells me I shall never again return 
 from Greece.' 
 
 Then unable to control his voice any longer 
 he leaned his head on the arm of the sofa on 
 which he and Lady Blessington were seated, 
 and bursting into tears sobbed for some time
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 in the fulness of bitter feeling. The whole 
 party were impressed and moved and the 
 hostess especially, ever tender and sympathetic, 
 was overcome] by grief. 
 
 Presently, by one of those strange and sudden 
 transitions of his character, Byron drying his 
 tears, once more reproached her for not re- 
 maining in Genoa until he sailed for Greece, 
 again showing some pique, and referring sar- 
 castically to his nervousness by way of excus- 
 ing his emotion. Later he softened once more 
 and gave them all some little present by which 
 they might remember him in years to come ; 
 to one a book, to another a print of his bust 
 by Bartolini, and to Lady Blessington a copy 
 of his Armenian Grammar which contained 
 notes in his own writing. In return he 
 asked for some souvenir, something she 
 had worn that he might keep; on which 
 she took a ring from her finger and gave it 
 to him. 
 
 Byron was touched and gratified, and on 
 the impulse of the moment took from his 
 stock and presented to her a pin bearing a
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 small cameo of Napoleon, which the poet said 
 had long been his companion. 
 
 When the final words came to be said his 
 lips quivered, his voice became inarticulate, 
 and tears rushed into his eyes. His parting 
 was full of melancholy. 
 
 That night Lady Blessington, heavy of heart 
 and oppressed by nervous fear, wrote in her 
 diary : 
 
 ' Should his presentiment be realised, and 
 we indeed meet no more, I shall never cease 
 to remember him with kindness ; the very- 
 idea that I shall not see him again, over- 
 powers me with sadness, and makes me forget 
 many defects which had often disenchanted 
 me with him. Poor Byron. I will not allow 
 myself to think that we have met for the 
 last time : although he has infected us all by 
 his superstitious forebodings.' 
 
 Though they were to see him no more, 
 they were to hear from him again before 
 they left Genoa, for next morning came 
 a note which contained the following 
 words : 
 
 132
 
 V 
 
 ' MY DEAR LADY BLESSINGTON, I am 
 superstitious and have recollected that memorials 
 with a point are of less fortunate augury : I 
 will therefore request you to accept instead of 
 the pin, the enclosed chain which is of so 
 slight a value that you need not hesitate. 
 As you wished for something worn I can 
 only say that it has been worn oftener and 
 longer than any other. It is of Venetian 
 manufacture, and the only peculiarity about 
 it is, that it could only be obtained at or 
 from Venice. At Genoa they have none of 
 the same kind. 
 
 ' I also enclose a ring which I would wish 
 Alfred to keep, it is too large to wear ; but 
 it is formed of lava and so far adapted to 
 the fire of his years and character. You will 
 perhaps have the goodness to acknowledge 
 the receipt of this note, and send back the 
 pin (for good luck's sake) which I shall 
 value much more for having been a night in 
 your custody.'
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 First Sight of Naples The City Crowds A 
 Magnificent Palace Entertaining Sir William 
 Cell My Lord's Extravagance The Building of 
 a Fairy Palace Lord Blessington returns to 
 Italy Travelling in Former Times The Inn at 
 Borghetto Life in the Palazzo Belvedere Young 
 Mathews as a Mimic Amateur Theatricals 
 Above the Bay. 
 
 FROM Genoa the Blessington party travelled 
 to Florence where they stayed about a month, 
 then visited Siena and Rome which in the 
 month of July they found intolerably hot, 
 and thence to Naples their destination. 
 
 Reaching this wonderful city by one of the 
 steep hills in its background, they stopped 
 their carriages to look down with delight on 
 the labyrinth of streets, tortuous, quaint, and 
 narrow, and vivid coloured in the glow of the 
 sun ; on the palaces surrounded by terraces and 
 gardens, on innumerable churches with domes 
 134
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 and bell towers, and above all on the bay, 
 serene and sunny, whose unbroken blue was 
 scarce darker than the sky, whose islands 
 three, floated verdant and phantasmal beyond, 
 whose opposite shores were dotted by villages 
 white in the glare, and lined by groves of 
 orange and lemon that descended to the sea. 
 
 Here was the city of their dreams, the city 
 they had travelled far to see, the first sight 
 of which held them speechless. And if by 
 day 'twas wonderful, by night and moonlight 
 it was magical : here they resolved to stay. 
 At first they hired a suite of rooms in the 
 hotel Grand Bretagna, whilst looking out for 
 a suitable residence in which to settle. The 
 life of the city surged around them ; and all 
 things the crowds with their volcanic gaiety, 
 the shops full of antiquities, the market-places, 
 the quarters of the ear-ringed red-capped 
 fishermen, the religious processions and church 
 ceremonies were new with a newness that 
 brought delight. 
 
 At night when refreshing breezes crept up 
 from the bay, mirthful as children free for a
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 holiday, they went into the streets to mix 
 amongst the people and make one of them ; 
 passing the cafes and ice shops with their 
 marble tables and brilliant lights ; the 
 tobacco shops with their crowds: the 
 portable barrows or bottegi with their canopies 
 of striped lawn, the gorgeous colours of their 
 ill-drawn pictorial designs, their bright-hued 
 paper lanterns, where were sold lemonade, ice 
 water, or sorbetto, macaroni hot and savoury 
 smelling, water melons mines of golden fruit 
 in green rinds, pomegranates scarlet and juicy, 
 frittura, shell fish, gingerbread fantastically 
 shaped, and pictures of the madonna and 
 saints. Then forever above the din of those 
 who cried their wares, and the indistinct 
 murmur of crowds, came the sounds of guitars 
 and the voices of singers as they passed a 
 corner or came through the archway of an 
 alley ; or the high-pitched prayers of a beggar : 
 or the ringing laughter of women's voices, all 
 sounds perhaps suddenly hushed as a priest 
 and his acolyte passed through a lane of 
 
 kneeling figures, bearing the host to one dying. 
 M6
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 On the Chiaja in the evening cool, carriages 
 drove backwards and forwards, in which were 
 seated dark-complexioned women with glow- 
 ing eyes and raven hair, fanning themselves 
 languorously, gesticulating, smiling. 
 
 In the Mole down by the sea, and full of 
 the brine of its breath, the crowds were chiefly 
 composed of brown-legged, bare-armed sailors, 
 with their wives whose full throats were clasped 
 by amber and coral. Here a young man whose 
 voice was sweet as music, whose face was 
 like to Caesar on a coin, recited Tasso's 
 ' Gerusalemme ' to groups of men and women 
 whom he stirred and swayed, and whose 
 silence was broken only by bursts of applause. 
 
 Further down were two who sang duets, 
 love songs, and songs of the sea, accompany- 
 ing themselves on their guitars ; whilst in 
 another direction Punch, a genuine native of 
 this clime, played pranks and jested wittily 
 to crowds who watched his antics by the 
 glare of oil lamps, and answered his quips 
 with peals of laughter. 
 
 And not far from him, standing on a chair,
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 his voice raised, his gestures imploring, a scarce 
 heeded monk called sinners to repentance. 
 
 After having looked at half the palaces in 
 Naples and its environs, the Blessingtons at 
 last hired as their residence the Palazzo 
 Belvedere at Vomero, a princely building 
 situated on a hill that gave it a magnificent 
 prospect, and surrounded by beautiful gardens 
 that overlooked the bay. A stately archway 
 led through spacious pleasure grounds planted 
 with palms and oranges and sweet-smelling 
 shrubs, to the palace which formed three sides 
 of a square, the fourth being filled by an 
 arcade. In the centre of the courtyard was 
 a marble fountain mellowed by time to an 
 amber hue. A pillared colonnade extended in 
 front ; the windows of the five reception 
 rooms opened on a raised terrace with marble 
 balustrades, at one end of which was an open- 
 arched pavilion that looked out upon the 
 'happy fields' lying at the base of a fore- 
 ground of descending vineyards: beyond lay 
 Vesuvius, the mountain itself a purple height 
 against transparent blue ; and below, slept 
 138
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 the bay, a scene and source of undying 
 beauty, of unending delight 
 
 Interiorly the palace was spacious and lofty, 
 the ceilings painted and gilded, the floors of 
 marble ; pillars of Oriental alabaster support- 
 ing archways; statues and pictures filling 
 rooms and galleries. Before taking possession 
 of the palace, Lady Blessington added to 
 the cumberous sofas, the gilt chairs, the tables 
 of malachite and agate with which it was 
 already furnished, curtains, carpets, rugs and 
 various articles which gave comfort to its 
 somewhat chilling splendour. 
 
 Then their English banker living in Naples 
 ' a most gentlemanly and obliging personage ' 
 engaged Neopolitan servants for them ; when 
 their mistress became acquainted with a system 
 of housekeeping different from any she had 
 known before, and one which saved a world 
 of trouble and imposition. This being that 
 an agreement was entered into with the cook 
 to furnish all meals according to the number 
 of dishes at a stipulated price per head, each 
 guest invited being paid for at the same rate. 
 139
 
 At the end of each week a bill, resembling 
 that of an hotel, except that it contained no 
 separate items, was presented by the cook and 
 checked by the maitre d 1 hotel. 
 
 Being now established in the Palazzo 
 Belvedere, Lady Blessington heartily con- 
 gratulated herself on the comforts of a private 
 house after spending eleven months in hotels. 
 Dear to her was the comfort of ' being sure 
 of meeting no strangers on the stairs ; no 
 intruders in the ante-rooms ; of hearing no 
 
 7 o 
 
 slappings of doors ; no knocking about of 
 trunks and imperials ; no cracking of whips 
 of postilions ; no vociferations of couriers ; and 
 above all of not having our olfactory organs 
 disgusted by the abominable odour of cigars. 
 ' Surely' she says ' an exemption from such 
 annoyances after an endurance of them for 
 nearly a year, is in itself a subject for satisfac- 
 tion ; but to have secured such an abode as this 
 palazzo, is indeed a cause for thankfulness.' 
 
 Lady Blessington and her party now gave 
 themselves up to sight - seeing and to enter- 
 taining. Scarcely a day passed that some 
 140
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 foreigner of distinction, or some Englishman 
 of position passing through or visiting Naples, 
 did not dine with them ; whilst she was ever 
 ready to welcome them to her salon in the 
 evenings. Their hospitality was widespread 
 and warm-hearted. 
 
 Now it was Prince Buttera who dined with 
 them ; the Prince once a plain soldier of fortune 
 having 'gained the hand and with it the wealth 
 and title of a princess and an heiress who had 
 fallen in love with him ; then it was Millingen 
 the antiquary who stayed some days with and 
 gave them lectures on numismatics; again their 
 guests were the Duke of Roccoromano and 
 Prince Ischittelli; or Count Paul Lieven, a 
 Russian who spoke English fluently, or Herschel 
 the English astronomer, and Hamilton the 
 English minister, or the Due de Fitzjames, or 
 Lord Howden, or Westmacott the young 
 sculptor, or Lord Dudley who was eccentric, 
 but was not considered mad, owing to 
 his possessing fifty thousand a year; or Lord 
 Ashley on his way to Sicily, or Lord 
 
 Guilford returning from Corfu. 
 141
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Then they were entertained by Harry Neale, 
 admiral of the English Fleet stationed in the 
 bay ; or were conducted by night to the obser- 
 vatory at Capo di Monte by Herschel himself, 
 where they viewed the stars ; or were invited 
 to dinner by the Archbishop of Tarentum, a 
 white-haired picturesque prelate, suspended 
 from his office for dabbling in revolu- 
 tions, who wished them to meet Son Altesse 
 Royale the Prince Gustave of Mechlenbourg ; 
 or were taken by Lord Dudley to see the beauti- 
 ful grounds of the Villa Gallo ; or ascended 
 Vesuvius and spent a day at Pompeii under 
 the guidance of the learned Sir William Gell, 
 leading in all a joyous life, unknown to care. 
 
 One of their most frequent guests and inti- 
 mate friends was Sir William Gell the archaeo- 
 logist and traveller who had published many 
 learned works and had in his day played the 
 part of a courtier ; he having accompanied 
 Queen Charlotte, the unhappy wife of George 
 the Fourth, in her journey to Italy, as one 
 of her chamberlains. From 1820 he lived in 
 
 Italy, having a house in Rome and another 
 
 142
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 in Naples where ' surrounded by books, draw- 
 ings and maps, with a guitar and two or 
 three dogs' he received numbers of dis- 
 tinguished visitors. For years previous to his 
 death he suffered from gout and rheumatism, 
 but though his hands were swollen to a 
 great size with chalkstones he handled a 
 pencil or pen with great delicacy and sketched 
 with remarkable rapidity and accuracy. 
 
 In Lady Blessington's salon where he was 
 ever welcome, he rolled himself about in his 
 chair, being unable to walk, telling her droll 
 anecdotes, talking on archaeological subjects, 
 or playing on a rough Greek double flute as an 
 accompaniment to a dog whom he had taught 
 to sing in a wonderful manner. It was he 
 who probably inspired her with a desire to 
 see the Pyramids, for she talked much of 
 journeying to Egypt about this time, though 
 the project was never accomplished. 
 
 Sir William Gell was not the only resident 
 
 who served to make Lady Blessington's stay 
 
 agreeable ; for at this period there had settled 
 
 here a group of well-known individuals many 
 
 143
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 of them her own countrymen who formed 
 a delightful social circle. 
 
 Amongst them was Sir William Drummond, 
 at one time British Envoy Extraordinary and 
 Minister Plenipotentiary to the King of the 
 two Sicilies ; a learned man and a prolific 
 author, a philosopher and a poet who so far 
 outraged philosophy and followed poetry as to 
 marry when advanced in life, a gay young wife ; 
 who spent his immense wealth freely, dressed 
 magnificently, and graciously smiled upon her 
 lap-dog and her husband's secretary. The 
 Abbe Campbell an ecclesiastic of the old 
 school was another person of note : rotund 
 in person, purple-visaged, snuff-smeared, and 
 bull-necked ; an Irishman, a wit, a lover of 
 good wine, a satirist, who though devoid of 
 the advantages of birth or breeding or culture, 
 could boast of the friendship of kings and 
 princes, and exercised a mysterious influence 
 over the governments of great countries. 
 Humorous as he was, he was not excelled in 
 that quality by another Hibernian, Doctor 
 
 Quinn, who had a large practice amongst the 
 144
 
 LAD Y BLESS1NGTON 
 
 English residents and visitors; a man ever 
 ready with repartee, full of humanity, hearty 
 and most hospitable. 
 
 Scarce less a favourite amongst all was 
 Doctor Reilly, likewise Irish ; a retired navy 
 surgeon, wild-spirited, who in his day was 
 concerned with strange romances in which 
 rope ladders and convent walls formed conspic- 
 uous scenic effects : but who now had settled 
 down to matrimony which brought wealth. 
 Never was man more jocose, especially at 
 his table round which he delighted to 
 gather his friends not less than twice a 
 week ; and many rare passages of arms 
 were exchanged between himself and the 
 Abbe. 
 
 Then came a dear and lovable old man 
 General Wade from Westmeath, who by some 
 strange turn of fortune's wheel was Com- 
 mandant of the Castello D'Ovo, and who 
 rejoiced in entertaining his friends, not 
 alone with the pleasures he set before' them, 
 but by the stories which he told them ; harm- 
 less, full of frolic, now and then throwing 
 VOL. i. 145 K
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 side lights upon his own adventures and the 
 bravery of his deeds. 
 
 The Hon. Keppel Craven, Lord Craven's 
 son was another of this group, a particular 
 friend of Sir William Cell with whom he had 
 acted as chamberlain to George the Fourth's 
 wife when she had set out on her travels, 
 but whose service he left at Naples. A 
 scholar, a musician, an amateur actor and 
 something of an artist, he was always warmly 
 welcomed at the Palazzo Belvedere. 
 
 And not least of this group was Captain 
 Hesse, the son of a Prussian banker who 
 had obtained a commission in an English 
 regiment, whose handsome appearance had 
 caused the Princess Charlotte of Wales 
 when a girl, to smile at him encouragingly 
 as he gaily rode past her window, and later 
 to enter into a correspondence with and give 
 him her portrait. 
 
 With these and others who came and went, 
 the residents of the Palazzo Belvedere were 
 well entertained. But scarcely had his family 
 
 been settled at Naples, than Lord Blessington 
 146
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 found it necessary to return to England and 
 subsequently to Ireland that he might arrange 
 some pressing business. Whilst travelling 
 with a retinue of servants through France 
 and Italy, hiring suites of apartments in ex- 
 pensive hotels and entertaining largely, he yet 
 kept up his town house in St James's Square, 
 and his country house in Mountjoy Forest. 
 
 This expenditure outran his income, his 
 estates being already hampered by mortgages ; 
 and large sums of ready money were raised 
 from time to time on his property ; such 
 paltry considerations by no means interfering 
 with his characteristic extravagance. Nay 
 even at this time he thought of erecting a 
 castle in Mountjoy Forest, instead of the 
 roomy rambling old house in which he re- 
 sided when he visited Ireland for a few 
 weeks in the hunting season. 
 
 He was full of this idea when in London 
 in the summer of 1823, and whilst one day 
 visiting his friend Charles Mathews the actor, 
 was struck by some plans and designs he saw 
 hanging on the walls of his rooms. The actor 
 14?
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 proudly explained that these had been drawn 
 by his son Charles, who had been articled 
 for four years to Augustus Pugin the architect, 
 and was now about to start for himself. With 
 his habitual good nature Lord Blessington there 
 and then declared he would give the lad an 
 opportunity of making his name in the pro- 
 fession he had selected, by letting him erect 
 Mountjoy Castle. The elder Mathews who 
 was delighted at the project offered his pro- 
 fuse thanks when the Earl and the actor parted. 
 Young Charles had been educated at Merchant 
 Taylor's School and afterwards under a private 
 tutor at Clapham. It had been his father's 
 intention to make a clergyman of the boy, 
 who however showed no inclination to become 
 a parson. Handsome and graceful in person, 
 he was quick and vivacious in temperament, 
 sunny natured, full of tact, with a rich in- 
 heritance of varied talent, and a gentleness 
 withal that won him the admiration and love 
 of those who knew him. 
 
 To him Lord Blessington's promise was a 
 
 source of excitement and delight, which was 
 148
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 heightened a couple of weeks later by the 
 receipt of the following letter addressed 
 by the Earl to Charles Mathews the elder: 
 
 ' If you like the idea send him (Charles) 
 off forthwith to Liverpool or Holyhead, from 
 which places steamers go, and by the Derry 
 mail he will be here (with resting a day in 
 Dublin) in five days : but he must lose no 
 time in setting off. I will bring him back 
 in my carriage.' 
 
 To this was added in a postscript an in- 
 vitation, which it was hoped might tempt 
 the elder Mathews to visit a country in 
 whose capital he had in his youth, performed 
 without credit to himself. 
 
 ' I suppose ' it said ' it would be utterly 
 useless my asking you to come with Charles ; 
 but if you wish to spend a week in one of 
 the most beautiful spots in Ireland, eat the 
 best vension, Highland mutton and rabbits, 
 and drink the best claret in Ireland, this is 
 the place : and you would be received with 
 undivided applause, and I would give you 
 
 some comical dresses for your kit.' 
 149
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 The invitation was no sooner received than 
 it was accepted on behalf of the son who was 
 soon ready to start for Ireland but had to 
 wait a couple of days before beginning his 
 journey as the mail-coach was full : whilst a 
 similar occurence detained him in Dublin. 
 Once arrived at Mountjoy Forest he began 
 what he terms the grand project, and revelled 
 in the delightful occupation of building castles 
 in the air. The Earl was enthusiastic regard- 
 ing his scheme. As Mathews relates in his auto- 
 biography ' fifty different plans were furnished, 
 and fifty different alterations were suggested, 
 till the time ran away and we were not much 
 further advanced than when we started. Lord 
 Blessington was absorbed in his grand idea, 
 and went mad over the details. Suggestion 
 upon suggestion and alteration upon alteration 
 succeeded each other hour by hour; but 
 nothing daunted I followed all his caprices 
 with patience and good-humour, and even 
 derived amusement from his flights of fancy.' 
 
 The fact was, as this shrewd young man 
 
 soon discovered, that his chief charm lay in his 
 
 150
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 acquiescence with my lord's whims. He had 
 already been furnished with plans on a 
 magnificent scale for a castle by Wyatt, who 
 would not permit a suggestion or allow an 
 alteration, a despotism that by no means 
 suited the Earl, who really wanted to design 
 the residence and to suggest the arrange- 
 ments, and merely required someone smart 
 enough to put his plans in shape and carry 
 out his practical details. ' I am just the 
 person for him ' says Mathews ' ardent as 
 himself, and rather delighting in, than object- 
 ing to the constant exercise for ingenuity his 
 exuberant conceptions afforded me, and we 
 laboured capitally together.' 
 
 In this way a couple of months were 
 pleasantly passed, when after much deliber- 
 ation and innumerable changes, an appropriate 
 site for the castle was selected, the ground 
 plan was marked out to the proper scale, and 
 the turf dug at the chosen spot. Stones were 
 then raised to the height of six feet all round 
 the building, in order to judge of the views 
 from the lower windows. And all this being
 
 done they found to their mortification that 
 sight was lost of a certain piece of river and 
 an old stone bridge which they had calculated 
 on getting into the perspective. Lord Blessing- 
 ton was not a man to allow obstacles of any 
 kind to stand between him and his wishes ; 
 so the young architect received orders to 
 change the course of the river, that it might 
 be brought into view ; then an ugly hill on the 
 other side was to be carted away, whilst a 
 big bare mountain likewise objectionable, 
 which might not readily lend itself to such 
 treatment, was to be planted with firs and 
 larch, for which purpose a hundred and fifty 
 thousand were removed from the nursery to 
 the spot. 
 
 ' Are not these grand doings ? ' asks young 
 Mathews in writing to his mother. 
 
 The pleasant task of planning the fairy 
 palace did not wholly occupy the time of host 
 and guest, who diverted themselves with stag- 
 hunting, rabbit-shooting, sight-seeing, and play- 
 acting between whiles ; when Mathews who 
 inherited his father's talents and was a capital
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 mimic, an excellent actor, and a rare story- 
 teller, appeared as the hero in ' Jeremy Diddler ' ; 
 Charles Gardiner my lord's illegitimate son, 
 playing Fainwould ; and the Earl representing 
 Sam. The country gentry were invited and 
 great fun followed. Concerning one of these 
 who probably had drunk overmuch of the best 
 claret in Ireland, Mathews tells a delightful 
 anecdote not to be omitted. 
 
 This individual was offered a bed and 'he 
 undressed himself in his dressing-room, put 
 out his candle and entered his bedroom. But 
 after groping round and round the room for 
 some time, he could not find any bed, and 
 there being no bell, he laid himself down on 
 the rug and slept till morning. On awakening 
 he discovered that there was a most beautiful 
 bed in the middle of the room.' 
 
 Now the fairy palace having been raised to 
 the height of six feet, the Earl discovered that 
 nothing more could be done until Lady Bless- 
 ington had seen and approved of the plans ; 
 and he therefore proposed to carry the young 
 and docile architect with him to Naples where
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 she might be consulted and all further details 
 carried out under her instructions. The lad's 
 parents were asked to consent to this arrange- 
 ment, and the elder Mathews wrote that he 
 could not find language ' to convey the high 
 sense I have of the honour and friendship you 
 have conferred on me in the person of Charles, 
 nor of the gratification I feel that you deem him 
 worthy of the proposed distinction of residing 
 with Lady Blessington and yourself during the 
 winter;' whilst as for Mrs Mathews 'she was 
 anxious to waive all selfish consideration in 
 order to give him the whole advantage of your 
 lordship's invaluable friendship, and regardless 
 of aught else, to insure his welfare in your con- 
 tinued kind feelings towards him. With all 
 thankfulness for so unexpected and great proof 
 of it, she yields up Charles to your lordship's 
 and Lady Blessington's entire direction ; well 
 assured and satisfied that under such auspices 
 and associations, he must acquire much, and 
 improve in all things that can insure him pre- 
 sent delight and lasting honour.' 
 
 Young Mathews was delighted at the 
 154
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 prospect of seeing Italy, the land of his 
 dreams, he could scarcely believe his good 
 fortune, and for days he walked on air. There 
 was a quick return to London where hasty 
 preparations were made. Then on the morn- 
 ing of the 2 ist of September 1823, he bade 
 his parents good-bye ; eyes were wiped, and 
 handkerchiefs were waved to him who seated 
 beside his patron in a well-laden travelling 
 carriage with four post horses, was driven at a 
 smart rate from St James's Square. 
 
 A world of wonders opened up before the 
 young man's sight, and he had ample time to 
 examine whatever interested him, owing to 
 his lordship's habits : for the Earl loved his 
 ease and had no desire to hurry ; he was not 
 a walker, and sight-seeing bored him ; he break- 
 fasted in bed and there read his newspapers and 
 books, rising late in the day, so that Mathews 
 saw little of him save when travelling or at 
 meal-times. Fortunately for the young man, 
 Lord Blessington had another travelling com- 
 panion in the person of Sir Charles Sutton, 
 who bore Mathews company in his excursions
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 abroad, and his visits to palaces, churches, and 
 galleries. 
 
 Seven days after their departure from 
 London they had crossed the Jura and reached 
 Geneva, where to their astonishment they met 
 Lady Blessington's sister Mrs John Home 
 Purves with her children and governesses, and 
 the Hon. Manners Sutton, when Lord Blessing- 
 ton pressed them to accompany him to 
 Naples, an invitation which they were unable 
 to accept. After two months' travelling they 
 reached Milan, where Lord Blessington bought 
 another carriage. As an instance of the 
 tediousness which travellers endured in those 
 days, it may be mentioned that in journeying 
 from Genoa to Chiavari they fell in at about 
 five o'clock in the afternoon with Lord 
 Haywarden, who had started from Spezia at 
 half-past four in the morning, and had only 
 covered a distance of seven miles meantime. 
 He advised them not to continue their journey, 
 much rain had fallen, the roads were covered 
 with water and almost impassable, and he had 
 seen a carriage with ladies which had been for 
 156
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 four hours stuck in the river, from which ten 
 horses had been unable to drag them. 
 
 Lord Blessington would not of course listen 
 to advice, and soon he came to part of a road 
 crossed by a swollen stream, when he was 
 obliged to hire twenty stalwart peasants to 
 drag them through the water and push the 
 carriages up a hill. Then they reached 
 Borghetto and took refuge in a hut called by 
 courtesy an inn. There was but one bedroom 
 which was given up to my lord, two other 
 beds being brought into the salle-a-manger for 
 his companions. Rain poured in torrents all 
 night, an incessant noise was kept up, and 
 any stray pigs that were passing by graciously 
 looked in on the young Englishmen. 
 
 As for the room occupied by the elegant 
 and luxurious Lord Blessington 'it was the 
 acme of misery, and yet with a comic side to 
 it. A small truck bed with a little alcove at 
 the further end, over which was the staircase 
 whose creaking boards completely banished 
 sleep : Lord Blessington in a large flannel 
 night-cap, with a travelling shawl over his
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 shoulders, sitting up in bed with his books and 
 drawings strewed around him, his breakfast by 
 his side, served in the silver accessories of his 
 travelling kit ; a poor little rickety table set 
 out with all the profusion of costly plate and 
 cut-glass bottles of the emptied dressing-case, 
 with brocaded dressing-gowns on the broken- 
 backed chairs, and imperials piled on imperials 
 almost reaching the ceiling and actually filling 
 the room. It was a splendid subject for a 
 picture. I must do him the justice ' writes 
 Mathews 'to say he bore his situation 
 manfully.' 
 
 It was impossible for them to quit this 
 place until the floods .which swamped the 
 roads subsided, and meanwhile the rain fell 
 black and steady. Now to while away the 
 weary hours, my lord and his young friend 
 covered the newly white-washed walls with 
 grand cartoons ; the Earl drawing a portrait 
 of Napoleon on horseback surrounded by his 
 generals, the architect picturing the great 
 temple at Paestum. They were eventually 
 obliged to leave the carriages behind them, 
 158
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 and to travel across swollen torrents on horse- 
 back, whilst their luggage was carried in sedan 
 chairs. 
 
 And so after many strange adventures by flood 
 and field they reached their destination. ' What 
 words can adequately describe the paradise 
 to which I was introduced at Naples?' asks 
 Mathews. ' The Palazzo Belvedere, situated 
 about a mile and a half from the town on 
 the heights of Vomero, overlooking the city, 
 and the beautiful turquoise-coloured bay dotted 
 with latine sails, with Vesuvius on the left, the 
 island of Capri on the right, and the lovely coast 
 of Sorrento stretched out in front, presented 
 an enchanting scene. The house was the 
 perfection of an Italian palace, with its ex- 
 quisite frescoes, marble arcades, and succession 
 of terraces one beneath the other, adorned with 
 hanging groves of orange trees and pome- 
 granates, shaking their odours among festoons 
 of vines and luxuriant creepers, affording 
 agreeable shade from the noontide sun, made 
 brighter by the brilliant parterres of glowing 
 flowers, while refreshing fountains plashed in
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 every direction among statues and vases in- 
 numerable. I was naturally entranced and 
 commenced a new existence. 
 
 ' Lady Blessington then in her youth, and 
 certainly one of the most beautiful as well as 
 one of the most fascinating women of her time, 
 formed the centre figure in the little family 
 group assembled within its precincts. 
 
 ' Count D'Orsay was the next object of 
 attraction, and I have no hesitation in assert- 
 ing was the beau ideal of manly dignity and 
 grace. He had not yet assumed the marked 
 peculiarities of dress and deportment which the 
 sophistications of London life subsequently 
 developed. He was the model of all that, 
 could be conceived of noble demeanour and 
 youthful candour ; handsome beyond all 
 question ; accomplished to the last degree ; 
 highly educated, and of great literary acquire- 
 ments ; with a gaiety of heart and cheerful- 
 ness of mind that spread happiness on all 
 around. His conversation was brilliant and 
 engaging as well as clever and instructive. 
 
 He was moreover the best fencer, dancer, 
 1 60
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 swimmer, runner, dresser; the best shot, the 
 best horseman, the best draughtsman of his 
 age. Possessed of every attribute that could 
 render his society desirable, I am sure I do not 
 go too far in pronouncing him the perfection of 
 a youthful nobleman. 
 
 Then came Miss Power, Lady Blessington's 
 youngest sister somewhat demure in aspect, 
 of quiet and retiring manners, contrasting 
 sweetly with the more dazzling qualities 
 which sparkled around her. Lady Blessington 
 has been described as a peach blossom, and 
 Miss Power as a primrose by her side. 
 
 The great salon of the villa occupied its 
 centre, and here in one corner was Lady 
 Blessington's table covered with flowers, books 
 and writing materials, in another corner Miss 
 Power had her table, Count D'Orsay his in a 
 third filled with artistic litter, whilst a fourth 
 was given to Mathews where he might map 
 out his plans and draw his designs. My lord 
 had an adjoining sanctum all his own, in and 
 out of which he strolled continually, asking 
 questions, proposing some party of pleasure, 
 
 VOL. I. l6l L
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 or speaking of his occupations, the designs for 
 his castle and the plot of the novel he was then 
 engaged in writing. Regarding the former he 
 told a friend ' I discovered that Lady Blessing- 
 ton did not like our plan, and so without argu- 
 ing the topic I determined upon abandoning 
 it. Knowing also how difficult if not impossible 
 it is to do anything which everybody likes, I 
 determined to make a residence out of my 
 present cottage which everybody dislikes.' 
 
 The fact that all idea of erecting the fairy 
 palace was abandoned was concealed from the 
 young architect, who continued to sketch the 
 famous ruins, churches, and palaces in the 
 neighbourhood. His hosts were anxious to 
 keep under their roof a young man of so lively 
 a spirit, so entertaining a manner, buoyant, 
 clever, a maker of epigrams, a writer of Vers 
 de Societ^ a surprising mimic, a clever sketcher, 
 wonderful in his impromptus, an excellent 
 actor, and withal full of tact, amiable, frank, 
 and lovable. 
 
 Now he was getting up theatricals, in which 
 
 Miss Power in a pair of white trousers, buff 
 162
 
 LAD Y BLESSING TON 
 
 waistcoat, and blue frock-coat, with beard, 
 moustaches and eyebrows made of cork, was 
 introduced as a young Spanish gentleman : he 
 himself was disguised ' as a nice old doctor 
 bulky and powdered ' with black net breeches, 
 white silk stockings and large buckles ; whilst 
 the Countess who made one of the amateurs 
 was dressed as an old lady in an embroidered 
 silk gown, a cap, and a quantity of curls in 
 front, powdered. ' I never in my life saw 
 anything so perfectly beautiful ' writes the 
 lad to his mother. ' I would have given a 
 hundred pounds for you to have seen her. 
 You never saw such a darling as she was 
 altogether.' 
 
 Again he was providing his hosts and their 
 guests with entertainment which he alone 
 provided. In a marvellously short time he 
 had picked up the Neapolitan dialect, manner 
 and peculiarities, and with these in his posses- 
 sion he gave imitations of characters well 
 known to the town. Amongst those the 
 individual who recited ' Ariosto and Tasso to 
 an entranced crowd. Then he imitated the 
 163
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 mendicants, the street preachers, and musicians 
 whose songs he sang to an accompaniment 
 on the guitar, as after dinner he with his 
 friends sat in the loggia overlooking the bay, 
 the caressing warmth of a southern night in 
 the air, the yellow moonlight full upon the 
 bay. 
 
 Once when Miss Power was ill and had sixty 
 leeches applied to her in three days, Mathews, 
 in order to divert her, dressed himself as a 
 doctor and visited her. After sitting down be- 
 side and talking to her for some time, he 
 took the nurse aside to ask her some droll 
 questions which the woman not recognising 
 him answered in detail, and even consulted him 
 on several subjects. Then D'Orsay very serious 
 of mein tcok her out of the room to inquire what 
 the doctor had said, and presently sent her in 
 again to ask another question, but on her re- 
 turn no doctor was visible, only young Mathews 
 who had put away his wig. She searched the 
 room for the medical man and would not be 
 convinced she had been hoaxed until the wig 
 
 was replaced and the grave manner resumed, 
 164
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 when her astonishment became the most laugh- 
 able thing in the world. 
 
 This personation was such a success that 
 next evening when Sir William Gell, Keppel 
 Craven, Prince Lardaria and Count Lieven 
 came to dinner, Mathews was asked to repre- 
 sent the doctor once more. So away he stole 
 and presently sent down word to say that 
 having visited Miss Power, he wished to pay 
 his respects to her ladyship. Immediately after 
 he was shown into the room when the guests who 
 had no suspicion of his individuality, all rose. 
 My lady played her part, asked questions con- 
 cerning his patient, and spoke of the climate. 
 He was next requested to sing the song he 
 had made a few days before, when he complied 
 by giving them ' One Hundred Years Ago.' 
 Then he told them unintelligible ancedotes, 
 made jokes, and took his leave undiscovered by 
 the strangers. 
 
 When he re-entered in his own person, they 
 
 began to tell him of the old bore who had 
 
 just quitted them, and D'Orsay asked that 
 
 Mathews might give his imitation of the 
 
 165
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 doctor's song, which he sang over again 
 precisely as before. The imitation was de- 
 clared excellent by all except Prince Lardaria, 
 who remarked it did not give him the idea of 
 so old a man ; much to his confusion when the 
 truth was told him. 
 
 But even my lady was fated to be deceived 
 by her lively guest, for next morning he 
 arranged his hair, put on moustaches, changed 
 his dress and manner, and arrived at break- 
 fast as Count Lieven. Lady Blessington rose 
 and made him an elegant courtesy when he 
 burst out laughing much to her surprise, and 
 the secret was out. But entering into his joke 
 she insisted he should visit her sister, on which 
 he was introduced to the bedroom of the 
 invalid who was overcome with shame that 
 the Count should have been allowed to enter. 
 Between work and play, many delightful 
 months passed for Charles Mathews who writ- 
 ing to his mother in June 1824 says: 
 
 ' We are most happy in Belvedere, for 
 
 during the hot months it is the only breath- 
 166
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 ing place that can be found. The sea air 
 is always fresh, and the terraces always cool, 
 admitting of the most enchanting walks by 
 the light of the moon : indeed nothing can 
 equal these terraces, overlooking the bay, and 
 perfumed with the exquisite fragrance of the 
 flowers below. 
 
 'An Italian moonlight differs materially 
 from ours in England from the total absence 
 of all fog, or damp mists ; not even the 
 slightest dew is perceptible. Not a breath 
 of air is stirring or a sound of any kind to 
 be heard except the exquisite melody of 
 our darling nightingales who from the groves 
 above which we stand and in which we are 
 enveloped, burst forth at short intervals with 
 all that brilliancy and richness so often 
 celebrated, but in such perfection so seldom 
 heard. Belvedere at this hour is elevated 
 into the very highest heaven of poetry. Every 
 moonlight scene that ever was described, is 
 here realised and surpassed. That glorious 
 combination of sea, mountain, and island 
 
 under the soothing gentle light of the church 
 
 167
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 Diana, is viewed with a feeling of reverent 
 admiration that absolutely inspires the soul 
 with an unearthly delight. 
 
 ' The perfect clearness with which every 
 object is visible is quite inconceivable. In 
 the midst of the glistening reflection of the 
 pale light on the glassy surface of the sea, 
 is frequently seen the small white sail of the 
 fishing-boat gliding in silence through the 
 calm water, or the shining gondola enjoying 
 the heavenly scene, training after it a long 
 line of silvery brightness, and sometimes the 
 subdued sounds of their distant music falling 
 upon the ear. It is really enchanting, and 
 each night with various effects of light, I 
 enjoy it from the terrace which adjoins my 
 bedroom when all the rest of the house are 
 quietly asleep. Here I literally sit for hours 
 in my morning-gown, without the least desire 
 to sleep, watching with delighted eye the 
 fireflies, their golden wings glistening as they 
 chase each other from place to place, and 
 sometimes quite illuminating by their numbers 
 
 the deep purple shade of the garden.' 
 1 68
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Byron starts for Greece An Inauspicious Day 
 Storm and Danger A Desolate Place In 
 Missolonghi Byron's Illness and Death Tid- 
 ings reach the Palazzo Belvedere leaving 
 Naples Residence in Florence Lamartine 
 and Landor An Original Character An 
 Eventful Life Lander's Friendship with Lady 
 Blessington Mutual Admiration. 
 
 WITHIN five weeks of the departure of Lady 
 Blessington from Genoa, Byron had started 
 for Greece. Bearing in mind his superstitious 
 feelings it may be considered strange that he 
 set sail on a Friday ; a day on which he had 
 a horror of transacting any business or of 
 beginning any enterprise. 
 
 Once when at Pisa he had set out to visit 
 a friend at her new residence, but before reach- 
 ing the door he remembered the day was 
 Friday, on which he hurriedly turned back, 
 
 not wishing, as he said, to make his first visit 
 169
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 on that day ; and later he had sent away a 
 Genoese tailor who had dared to bring home 
 a new coat on the same ominous day. 
 
 But now in taking so important a step in 
 his life, either forgetful of the day in the midst 
 of his excitement, or believing that it was im- 
 material on what day he began an undertaking 
 which he felt assured would be fatal to him, 
 he set sail for Greece on a Friday, embarking 
 in an English brig the Hercules which he had 
 chartered to convey himself and his suite 
 consisting of Count Gamba, Captain Trelawney, 
 Dr Bruno, and eight servants. 
 
 At sunrise of a clear July morning they left 
 the port, but there being no wind they re- 
 mained all day in sight of Genoa with her 
 palaces and gardens looking down from her 
 superb heights upon the sea. Night came with 
 a weird moon looking ghastly upon a wild 
 procession of ominous clouds scudding in fright 
 apast her ; the wind rose and woke the storm, 
 a terror-struck sea dashed round them, and 
 for a time the Hercules and her crew were in 
 
 serious danger. Eventually the captain was 
 170
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 enabled to gain the port once more, just as a 
 blood-red dawn smeared the grey-green sky 
 when Byron and his friends chilled, drenched, 
 and overwrought, landed. He insisted on visit- 
 ing his palace once more, and reached it as 
 the triumphant light of the new-born day 
 made the Casa beautiful to the eyes of one 
 who thought to behold it no more : but the 
 poet reached his home only to find it a desolate 
 and an empty place holding nothing but 
 melancholy memories : for early that morning 
 Count Gamba had taken his daughter from 
 a house whose every spot mocked her by its 
 associations with happiness, and had driven 
 with her, half-dazed and inert from grief, to 
 Boglona. Throughout the day Byron looked 
 thoughtful and depressed, remarked with a 
 forced ironic laugh that such a bad beginning 
 of his voyage was a favourable omen for its 
 happy ending. Then by a quick transit of 
 ideas he dwelt upon his past life and touched 
 upon the uncertainty of the future, and turning 
 to Count Gamba asked 'Where shall we be 
 
 in a year ? ' 
 
 171
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 It looked, as the Count afterwards stated 
 ' like a melancholy foreboding : for on the same 
 day of the same month, in the next year, he 
 was carried to the tomb of his ancestors.' 
 
 It took the greater part of a day to repair 
 the damage done to the brig, and when even- 
 ing came Byron set sail once more. The 
 weather was now favourable and the poet 
 endeavoured to cast aside his gloom. In 
 August he reached the Ionian Isles. Whilst 
 at Cephalonia he wrote to the Countess 
 Guiccioli begging her to be as cheerful and 
 tranquil as she could. ' Be assured ' he says 
 ' that there is nothing here that can excite 
 anything but a wish to be with you again.' 
 
 Later still he tells her that the moment he 
 can join her will be as welcome to him 
 as any period of their recollection. From 
 Cephalonia he set sail for Missolonghi where 
 on the 22d of January 1824, he completed 
 his thirty-sixth year, on which occasion he 
 composed some verses which he thought 
 were much better than he usually wrote ; 
 
 the second of which runs : 
 
 172
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 ' My days are in the yellow leaf; 
 The flowers and fruits of love are gone ; 
 The worm, the canker, and the grief, 
 Are mine alone.' 
 
 It was on the fifteenth of the following 
 month when harassed, disappointed by in- 
 gratitude and unsettled, he was seized by 
 convulsions so violent that two men were 
 obliged to hold him ; his agony being so 
 intense the while that he felt had they lasted 
 a moment longer he must have died. So 
 soon as he could speak he showed himself 
 free from all alarm, and coolly asked if this 
 attack was likely to prove fatal. ' Let me 
 know ' he said. ' Do not think I am afraid to 
 die I am not.' 
 
 On the following morning he was weak 
 and pale, and as he complained of feeling 
 a weight in his head, leeches were applied 
 to his temples : on their removal it was 
 found difficult to prevent a flow of blood 
 and he fainted from exhaustion. As he was 
 lying in bed 'with his whole nervous system 
 completely shaken, the mutinous Suliotes, 
 173
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 covered with dirt and splendid attires, broke 
 into his apartment, brandishing their costly 
 arms and loudly demanding their wild rights. 
 Lord Byron electrified by this unexpected act, 
 seemed to recover from his sickness, and the 
 more the Suliotes raged, the more his calm 
 courage triumphed.' The scene was truly- 
 sublime ! as Colonel Stanhope who was present 
 states. 
 
 This scene was but a supplement to ' the 
 shooting and slashing in a domestic quiet 
 way ' that formed part of his housekeeping. 
 He soon looked forward to the recovery of 
 his health and the beginning of his campaign 
 when he proposed to take the field at the 
 head of his own brigade and the troops which 
 the Government of Greece were to place under 
 his orders. But he failed to recover so rapidly 
 as he expected ; for he frequently complained 
 of vertigos that made him feel as if intoxicated, 
 of nervous sensations, of nervousness and 
 tremours, all of which he attributed to full 
 habit. 
 
 Accordingly he lived on dry toast, vegetables 
 174
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 and cheese, drank only water, and continually 
 measured himself round the waist and wrists 
 when, if he thought himself getting stout he 
 took strong doses of medicine ; for in leaving 
 Italy he had taken ' medicines enough for the 
 supply of a thousand men for a year.' His 
 friends strove to persuade him to return to 
 Cephalonia where he might have a better 
 chance of recovering his health than at 
 Missolonghi where heavy rains had rendered 
 the swamps impassable, and where a plague 
 had broken out, so that obliged to remain in- 
 doors he had no exercise save drilling and 
 single stick ; but he refused to leave. 
 
 Becoming impatient of confinement, he 
 rode out one day with Count Gamba, when 
 they were overtaken by a heavy shower which 
 drenched them. A couple of hours after the 
 poet had returned home he was seized with 
 shudderings and complained of fever. But 
 next day he was again in the saddle, but once 
 more was subjected to shudderings which 
 caused him much pain. ' I do not care for 
 death ' he said ' but these aonies I cannot
 
 bear.' His illness was pronounced to be 
 rheumatic fever and he kept his bed. He was 
 now unable to gain sleep or to take nourish- 
 ment, he suffered from his head and grew 
 weaker. He became afraid that he was losing 
 his memory to test which he repeated some 
 Latin verses with their English translation 
 which he had not striven to remember since 
 his school-days. 
 
 His doctors wished to reduce his inflammatory 
 symptoms by bleeding, but to this he offered 
 the strongest objection, quoting from an essay 
 recently published that less slaughter was 
 effected by the lance than by the lancet : and 
 stating that they might do what they pleased 
 with him, but bleed him they should not. If 
 his hour had come, he would die, whether he 
 lost or kept his blood. 
 
 These persuasions were renewed next day, 
 they telling him that unless he changed his 
 resolution his disease might operate in such a 
 way as to deprive him for ever of reason : an 
 argument that had its effect, for partly annoyed 
 
 and partly persuaded, he cast at the doctor's 
 176
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 the fiercest glance of vexation, and throwing 
 out his arm said in the angriest tone ' There, 
 you are I see a damned set of butchers, take 
 away as much blood as you like but have done 
 with it.' 
 
 The blood was drawn but the result not 
 being such as was expected the operation 
 was twice repeated next day, as appearances 
 of inflammation of the brain were hourly in- 
 creasing. Count Gamba, and the poet's valet 
 Fletcher, were in tears which they strove to 
 conceal by hastening from the room. Captain 
 Parry who had formed the expedition 
 says that ' in all the attendants there was 
 the officiousness of zeal : but owing to their 
 ignorance of each other's language, their zeal 
 only added to the confusion. This circum- 
 stance, and the want of common necessaries, 
 made Lord Byron's apartment such a picture 
 of distress and even anguish during the last 
 two or three days of his life, as I never be- 
 fore beheld and wish never again to witness.' 
 
 The end came soon. Periods of delirium 
 ensued, followed by recovery of conscious- 
 
 VOL. I. 177 M
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 ness. On being asked by Fletcher whether 
 he should bring pen and paper to take down 
 his words, Byron answered ' There is no time 
 it is now nearly over. Go to my sister 
 tell her go to Lady Byron you will see her 
 and say ' then his voice became indistinct 
 and he muttered. 
 
 ' My lord ' said the sorrowing Fletcher ' I 
 have not understood a word your lordship 
 has been saying.' 
 
 ' Not understood me ? ' said Byron in bitter 
 distress ' what a pity then it is too late all 
 is over.' 
 
 ' I hope not ' answered the valet ' but the 
 Lord's will be done.' 
 
 ' Yes, not mine ' the poet replied. 
 
 A strong antispasmodic potion was given 
 hirn which produced sleep. When he woke 
 he said ' Why was I not aware of this sooner ? 
 My hour is come, I do not care for death, 
 but why did I not go home before I came 
 here. There are things which make the world 
 dear to me ; for the rest I am content to die.' 
 
 Towards six in the evening he said ' Now 
 178
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 I shall go to sleep ' and turning round he 
 fell into a slumber from which he woke no 
 more: his death happened on the iQth of 
 April 1824. 
 
 One evening in the following month news 
 was brought to the Palazzo Belvedere of 
 Byron's death, news which coming suddenly 
 upon its residents, filled them with awe and 
 gloom. For that night and for days to come, 
 their spirits were subdued, and their thoughts 
 were turned in the same direction. Each 
 recalled some trait of the poet's ; some char- 
 acteristic speech ; they dwelt upon his fare- 
 well visit to them, and valued more than before 
 the trifling gifts he had given them. Lady 
 Blessington read over the notes she had made 
 of his conversations, and as she did it seemed 
 as if his voice had spoken the words. 
 
 ' Alas, alas ' she writes ' his presentiment 
 of dying in Greece has been but too well 
 fulfilled and I used to banter him on this 
 superstitious presentiment. Poor Byron, long, 
 long will you be remembered by us with feel- 
 ings of deep regret' 
 
 179
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 After a residence of nearly three years in 
 Naples the Blessingtons resolved to leave 
 that city of delight. The length of her stay 
 and her attachment to the people made it 
 painful for the Countess to depart. During 
 the last week of her sojourn her salon was 
 nightly crowded by those who were anxious 
 to spend as much time as possible in her 
 company ; whilst a vast number of gifts were 
 given her by way of remembrances. 
 
 She could not bring herself to think she 
 was quitting Naples for ever, and she strove 
 to keep her spirits up by a hope of revisiting 
 a place so full of happy memories ; but when 
 the time came for saying farewell she cried 
 bitterly and freely, her friends being not less 
 moved. 
 
 Leaving Naples they hurried through Rome, 
 made a short stay at Florence, and reached 
 Genoa in December 1826. Lord Blessington 
 had now determined to return to England, but 
 eventually he changed his mind, and they re- 
 tracing their steps, spent about six months in 
 
 Pisa ; and in the spring of 1 827 arrived 
 180
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 in Florence then rich in the wealth of its 
 flowers. 
 
 At first they stayed at the hotel Schneiderff, 
 but the perpetual bustle and the continual 
 odour of cooking fatigued my lady who sought 
 for a quieter residence and eventually took 
 the Casa Pecori, which had once belonged to 
 Elise Bacciocchi Duchess of Tuscany. The 
 villa was charmingly situated, its principal 
 windows opening on a terrace bordered by 
 orange trees and overlooking the Arno. 
 
 Once established here the Blessingtons 
 threw open their doors and received the 
 most distinguished men of the day. Amongst 
 these were two who particularly interested their 
 hostess : one being Monsieur de Lamartine 
 the French poet, statesman and traveller ; the 
 other a man of rare genius, Walter Savage 
 Landor. 
 
 Lady Blessington's impressions of Lamartine 
 are amusing to read : according to her he 
 had 'a presence cf esprit not often to be met 
 with in the generality of poets ; and a perfect 
 
 freedom from any of the affectations of 
 181
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 manner attributed to that genus irritabile? 
 But more remains behind : for we learn he was 
 handsome, distinguished ' and dresses so per- 
 fectly like a gentleman that one would never 
 suspect him to be a poet. No shirt-collars 
 turned over an apology for a cravat, no long 
 curls falling on the collar of the coat, no 
 assumption of any foppishness of any kind ; 
 but just the sort of man that seen in any 
 society would be pronounced bien couune il 
 faut! Lord Blessington had been previously 
 acquainted with Landor and on coming to 
 Florence the Earl soon sought out the author 
 whom he subsequently introduced to Lady 
 Blessington. Concerning him she had heard 
 much from acquaintances and had looked 
 forward to their meeting with some anxiety. 
 Landor who was at this time in his fifty- 
 first year, was a Warwickshire squire, a learned 
 scholar, a man of original mind, and the 
 author of Imaginary Conversations. Even 
 whilst a Rugby boy he became famous for 
 his skill in making Latin verses, and later 
 
 when he entered Trinity College Oxford, he 
 182
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 was not less renowned for his ability to make 
 Greek verse. Though these were, according 
 to his own belief, the best in the university, 
 it was strongly characteristic of him that here, 
 as at Rugby, he refused to compete for the 
 prizes. 
 
 The waywardness of his temper, his unbend- 
 ing will, his defiance of authority and self- 
 reliance, had shown themselves from an early 
 age. When as a sturdy lad he went a-fishing 
 with a cast net and met with a farmer who 
 interfered with this pastime, Landor replied 
 by flinging the net over him and holding him 
 captive ; when Dr James headmaster of Rugby 
 selected for approbation some verses which 
 Landor did not consider his best, he gratified 
 his indignation by writing on the fair copy 
 made of them, some insulting remarks, and this 
 action being repeated, Dr James asked that 
 the boy might be removed to avoid the 
 necessity of expulsion. 
 
 Whilst at Oxford which he entered in 1793, 
 he gave offence by going into the hall with 
 his hair unpowdered by way of illustrating 
 183
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 his tendencies to republicanism ; he wrote an 
 ode to Washington, and was not displeased 
 to be termed ' a mad Jacobine.' Later followed 
 a freak which brought him into trouble. One 
 evening whilst entertaining friends at a wine 
 party he saw that a Tory undergraduate 
 who occupied rooms opposite, was similarly 
 engaged, though the guests of the latter ac- 
 cording to Landor 'consisted of servitors and 
 other raffs of every description.' Taunts and 
 jeers were exchanged by both parties until 
 the Tories closed their window shutters, on 
 which Landor treated them to a few shots. 
 Though no harm was done much noise was 
 made. Landor refused all explanations and 
 Avas as a consequence rusticated for a year. 
 
 This widened a misunderstanding which 
 had already existed between himself and his 
 father, a stormy scene followed their meeting, 
 when Landor left his father's house as he 
 declared and believed for ever, and going up 
 to London published a volume of English and 
 Latin poems. 
 
 Eventually peace was made between father 
 184
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 and son ; when the former offered the latter 
 four hundred a year if he would study law ; but 
 proposed to give him a hundred and fifty a year 
 with permission to live at home whenever he 
 pleased, if he refused to take up a profession. 
 Walter who all his life hated restraint, preferred 
 liberty and the smaller sum, and taking him- 
 self into Wales remained there some three 
 years. His father died in 1805, when Walter 
 being the eldest son had money and to spare. 
 Three years after this date, when the Spaniards 
 rose against the French, Landor joined the 
 Spanish army in whose expeditions he took 
 part. 
 
 When he was six-and-thirty and at a period 
 when he was writing ' Count Julian ' he one 
 night entered a ballroom at Bath, and seeing a 
 pretty girl asked her name. He was told it 
 was Julia Thuillier, on which he exclaimed ' By 
 Heaven that's the nicest girl in the room, and 
 I'll marry her.' A few days later he writes to 
 his friend Southey ' It is curious that the even- 
 ing of my beginning to transcribe the tragedy, 
 Iffell in love. I have found a girl without a 
 185
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 sixpence, and with very few accomplishments. 
 She is pretty, graceful, and good-tempered- 
 three things indispensable to my happiness. 
 Adieu and congratulate me.' Later he spoke 
 to his mother of his intended bride as a girl 
 ' who had no pretensions of any kind, and her 
 want of fortune was the very thing which deter- 
 mined me to marry her.' The marriage took 
 place in haste and was repented at leisure. 
 Mrs Landor was a simple insignificant little 
 woman who bore children, delighted in house- 
 keep, and exhibited a nagging disposition to 
 her husband. ' God forbid,' Landor said on 
 one occasion ' that I should do otherwise than 
 declare that she always was agreeable to 
 everyone but me.' 
 
 A couple of years after his marriage he 
 resolved to live in France, a plan to which his 
 wife strongly objected. In what part of that 
 country he would end his days he had not yet 
 decided, ' but there I shall end them' he writes 
 to a friend ' and God grant that I may end 
 them speedily, so as to leave as little sorrow 
 
 as possible -to my friends.' No day passed that 
 1 86
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 his wife did not urge her disinclination to live 
 abroad, he subdued his temper 'the worst 
 beyond comparison that man was ever cursed 
 with ' as he acknowledges. One evening whilst 
 they were staying at Jersey her irritating ob- 
 jections were renewed ; she nagged for an hour 
 and a half without a syllable of reply from him 
 ' but every kind and tender sentiment was 
 rooted up from my heart for ever ' he writes. 
 At last exasperated she who was sixteen years 
 his junior, reproached herself with ' marrying 
 such an old man.' 
 
 Landor could stand this no longer and hurried 
 away to his room, heart sick and weary, and 
 remained tossing about, broad awake for hours. 
 He rose at four o'clock, walked to the other 
 side of the island and embarked alone on an 
 oyster boat bound for France, resolved never to 
 see her more. 
 
 ' I have neither wife nor family, nor house nor 
 home, nor pursuit, nor occupation ' he writes. 
 ' Every man alive will blame me ; many will 
 calumniate me ; and all will cherish and rejoice 
 in the calumny. All that were not unjust to me 
 187
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 before will be made unjust to me by her. A 
 thousand times have I implored her not to drive 
 me to destruction : to be contented if I acknow- 
 ledged myself in the wrong : to permit me to be 
 at once of her opinion, and not to think a con- 
 versation incomplete without a quarrel. The 
 usual reply was, " A pleasant sort of thing 
 truly, that you are never to be contradicted." 
 As if it were extraordinary and strange that 
 one should wish to avoid it. She never was 
 aware that more can be said in one minute than 
 can be forgotten in a lifetime.' 
 
 Poor Landor, no wonder he wrote years later 
 ' Death itself to the reflecting mind is less serious 
 than marriage.' 
 
 A reconciliation was in due time effected 
 when his sister-in-law wrote to acquaint him 
 of his wife's extreme grief, with the fact that 
 she was seriously ill, and of her desire to 
 join him. This banished from his generous 
 mind all traces of resentment and he ' wrote 
 instantly to comfort and console her.' ' My own 
 fear is ' he adds ' that I shall never be able to 
 
 keep my promise in its full extent, to forgive 
 1 88
 
 LADY BLESS1NGTON 
 
 humiliating and insulting language. Certainly 
 I shall never be so happy as I was before : that 
 is beyond all question.' 
 
 They settled in town for some time and then 
 went to Italy living for three years at Como 
 where his first child was born. An insult to the 
 authorities contained in a Latin poem was the 
 cause of his being ordered to leave the place, 
 when he went on to Pisa where he remained 
 some three years before settling in a suite of 
 rooms in the Palazzo Medice in Florence in 
 1821. Here he became a notable figure re- 
 marked by all for his eccentricities, beloved by 
 many for his characteristics. His courtesy to 
 women was only equalled by his love of children : 
 his generosity was ever excessive ; his affection 
 for animals led him to treat them as human 
 beings ; and flowers were to him as living things. 
 But his temper forever banished peace. 
 
 Scarcely had he been settled in Florence when 
 he conceived himself to have been treated ' with 
 marked indignation ' by the Secretary of the 
 English Legation, so that he was obliged to ask 
 
 that individual ' in what part of England or 
 189
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 France they might become better acquainted 
 in a few minutes.' The offending individual 
 was a poor spirited wretch who had no taste for 
 a duel ; but it appeared there was no end to the 
 insults he was capable of offering ; for he posi- 
 tively presumed to whistle in the streets whilst 
 passing Mrs Landor. ' This ' her husband thinks 
 ' has affected her health, and I am afraid may 
 oblige me to put him to death before we can 
 reach England. Is it not scandalous that our 
 ministry should employ such men ? I have a 
 presentiment that you will hear something of me 
 which you would rather not hear, but my name 
 shall be respected as long as it is remembered.' 
 Blood was spared over this affair, but not ink : 
 for Landor wrote a letter to the Foreign Minister 
 in Downing Street telling him that some curious 
 facts were in his possession ' concerning more 
 than one of 4he wretches he has employed 
 abroad.' 
 
 Later than this he accused his landlord the 
 Marquis de Medici of having enticed away 
 his coachman. Next day whilst Landor, his 
 
 wife, and some friends were sitting in the 
 190
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 drawing-room the offended Marquis came strut- 
 tine in with his hat on: but he had not ad- 
 
 o 
 
 vanced three steps from the door when Landor 
 walked quickly up to him, knocked his hat 
 off and then taking him by the arm conducted 
 the astonished Marquis to the door. 
 
 As to his personal appearance Landor was 
 wholly indifferent. It was his custom to 
 wear his clothes until they could scarcely 
 hang together ; and years before when he 
 used to visit his sisters, who were offended by 
 his carelessness in this respect, they would 
 leave new garments by his bedside which he 
 would put on in the morning without dis- 
 covering the change. 
 
 The wondering Italians on seeing him used 
 to say all the English were mad, but this 
 one more than the rest. 
 
 Many English visitors to Florence made 
 the acquaintance and friendship of this original 
 man, but with none of them did he become 
 so intimate as with the Blessingtons. The 
 strong magnetic charm which few who ap- 
 proached Lady Blessington failed to experi- 
 191
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 ence, was felt from the first by Landor whom 
 it swayed to the end. On her part she was 
 struck by the dignity and urbanity of his 
 manner, his fearless courage in the expression 
 of his opinions, his contempt for what he 
 considered unworthy, the simplicity of his 
 mode of life from which self-gratification was 
 rigidly excluded, his profuse generosity and 
 his almost womanly tenderness. 
 
 She had been led to think him eccentric 
 and violent, but she confesses that the only 
 singularity she can find in him is ' his more 
 than ordinary politeness towards women 
 a singularity that I heartily wish was one 
 no longer.' Then his fine intellectual head 
 with its broad prominent forehead, the eyes 
 quick and expressive, and the mouth full of 
 benevolence, pleased her greatly. 
 
 Finding Lady Blessington sympathetic and 
 charming, a brilliant conversationalist and 
 what was more a willing listener, Walter 
 Savage Landor visited her every evening from 
 eight to eleven, as he narrates, during his 
 stay in Florence, and when he moved to
 
 LA D V BLESSING TON 
 
 Fiesole a distance of three miles, he spent 
 two evenings a week in her delightful com- 
 pany. 
 
 And what conversations they had, for on 
 any and on every subject he was ready and 
 willing to vent decided opinions in vigorous 
 English, an idea of which may be gained 
 from the contents of his letters. For instance 
 she must not praise him for his admiration 
 of Wordsworth and Southey. That was only 
 a proof that he was not born to be a poet. 
 He was not a good hater ; he only hated 
 pain and trouble. He thought he could have 
 hated Bonaparte if he had been a gentleman, 
 but he was so thorough a blackguard, thief, 
 and swindler, that wherever he appeared con- 
 tempt held the shield before hatred. Robert 
 Stewart, Viscount Castlereagh, afterwards second 
 Marquis of Londonderry, was almost as mischiev- 
 ous and was popularly a gentleman, but being 
 an ignorant and a weak creature he escaped from 
 hatred without a bruise. And wasn't it remark- 
 able how very few people of the name of Stewart 
 
 had ever been good for anything. He had 
 VOL. i. 193 N
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 known a dozen or two, and the best of them 
 was Dan Stewart a poacher at Oxford whom 
 he had introduced into his ' Penn and Peter- 
 borow.' 
 
 It was amongst the few felicities of his 
 life that he had never been attached to a 
 party or been a party man. He had always 
 excused himself from dinners that he might 
 
 o 
 
 not meet one. The English must be the most 
 quiet and orderly people in the universe, not to 
 rush into the houses of the rapacious dema- 
 gogues, and tie them by the necks in couples 
 and throw them tutti quanti into the 
 Thames. 
 
 As for himself, he never cared one farthing 
 what people thought about him, and had always 
 avoided the intercourse and notice of the world. 
 He would readily stand up to be measured by 
 those who were high enough to measure him 
 men such as Coleridge, Southey, and Words- 
 worth. They had done it, and as their measure- 
 ment agreed he was bound to believe it correct, 
 although his own fingers would have made him 
 
 an inch lower. A little while ago he was praised 
 194
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 only by such as these. Taylor and Leigh Hunt, 
 both admirable poets, had since measured him 
 beyond his expectations. He did not believe 
 such kind things would be said of him for at 
 least a century to come. Perhaps soon, even 
 fashionable persons would pronounce his name 
 without an apology, and he might be patted on 
 the head by dandies with all the gloss upon 
 their coats, and with unfrayed straps to their 
 trousers. Who knew but that he might be en- 
 couraged at last to write as they instructed 
 him, and might attract all the gay people of 
 the parks and parliament by his puff-paste and 
 powder-sugar surface. 
 
 Then it occurred to him that authors were 
 beginning to think it an honest thing to pay 
 their debts, and that they are debtors to all by 
 whose labour and charges, the fields of literature 
 have been cleared and sown. Few writers 
 have said all the good they thought and said 
 of others, and fewer have concealed the 
 ill. They praise their friends, because their 
 friends, it may be hoped, will praise them or 
 get them praised. As these propensities seemed 
 195
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 inseparable from the literary character, he had 
 always kept aloof from authors where he could. 
 Southey stood erect and stood alone. Landor 
 loved him no less for his integrity than for his 
 genius. 
 
 Then he had been reading Beckford's travels 
 and his romance VatJieck. The last pleased 
 him less than it did forty years before, and yet 
 the Arabian Nights had lost none of their charm 
 for him. All the learned and wiseacres in 
 England had cried out against the wonderful 
 work upon its first appearance ; Gray amongst 
 the rest. Yet Landor doubted whether any 
 man, except Shakespeare, had afforded so much 
 delight if we open our hearts to receive it. The 
 author of the Arabian Nights was the greatest 
 benefactor the East ever had, not excepting 
 Mahomet. How many hours of pure happiness 
 had he bestowed on twenty-six millions of 
 hearers. All the springs of the desert have less 
 refreshed the Arabs than those delightful tales, 
 and they cast their gems and genii over our 
 benighted and foggy regions. 
 
 Regarding dogs, somebody had told him the 
 196
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 illustrious Goethe hated dogs. God forgive him 
 if he did. He never could believe it of him. 
 Dogs were half poets ; they were dreamers. 
 Did any other animals dream ? For his own 
 part he loved them heartily : they were grateful, 
 they were brave, they were communicative, and 
 they never played cards. 
 
 Then as to his children whom he worshipped. 
 He could scarcely bring his eldest son Arnold to 
 construe Greek with him, and what was worse 
 he was not always disposed to fence. Landor 
 foresaw the boy would be a worse dancer if pos- 
 sible than his father. In vain he told him what 
 was true, that he had suffered more from his 
 bad dancing than from all the other misfortunes 
 and miseries of his life put together. Not danc- 
 ing well he had never danced at all. 
 
 More than any words of friends or biographers, 
 a letter written by himself throws a vivid light 
 upon the original character of this man. Lady 
 Blessington years later expressed a wish that he 
 could be persuaded to write his memoirs. ' What 
 a treasure would they prove to posterity' she 
 
 says 'tracing the working of such a mind as 
 197
 
 THE MOST GOKGEOUS 
 
 yours, a mind that has never submitted to the 
 ignoble fetters that a corrupt and artificial 
 society would impose, could not fail to be 
 highly interesting as well as useful, by giving 
 courage to the timid and strength to the weak, 
 and teaching them to rely on their intellectual 
 resources, instead of leaning on that feeble reed 
 the world, which can wound but not support 
 those who rely on it.' 
 
 To which Landor made prompt answer 
 
 'DEAR LADY BLESSINGTON, It has quite 
 escaped my memory whether I made any reply 
 or remark on your flattering observation, that 
 my life, written by myself, would interest the 
 literary world and others. However, as you 
 have repeated it, I will say a few words on the 
 subject. I have always been cautious and 
 solicitous to avoid the notice of the publick ; I 
 mean individually and personally. Whatever 
 I can write or do for their good is much at 
 their service, and I do not disdain to amuse 
 them, altho' I would not take any trouble 
 about it. As for their curiosity in regard to
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 myself, it must remain ungratified. So little 
 did I court the notice of people even when 
 young, that I gave my Latin poems, etc., to the 
 printer on one only condition, namely, that he 
 should not even advertise them in the papers. 
 I never accepted an invitation to" dinner in 
 London, excepting at your house and Sir 
 Charles Morgan's, once. He had taken a good 
 deal of trouble to bring thro' Parliament an 
 Inclosure Act of mine, in which, by means of 
 Sir Charles Mordaunt, Dugdale, himself, Lord 
 Manvers and Lord Walsingham, and I must 
 not forget Lord Oxford, I defeated the Duke 
 of Beaufort and his family, but encountered so 
 much opposition that altho' I had saved a 
 thousand pounds for my purpose, hardly one 
 shilling was left, and my four thousand acres 
 were and are still unenclosed. My own life- 
 holders opposed me, for there were but three 
 freeholders in the parish, and very small ones. 
 My own land was calculated at about eight 
 thousand acres; half enclosed, half not. I 
 always hated society and despised opinion. 
 
 Added to which, I must of necessity be a liar 
 199
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 in writing my life, since to conceal a truth or 
 give a partial evidence is to lie. \1 spent thir- 
 teen winters of my early life in Bath, which at 
 that time was frequented by the very best 
 society. I was courted in spite of my bad 
 temper, my unconciliating manners (to speak 
 gently of them) and my republican opinions, I 
 once even inspired love. There is no vanity in 
 saying it. An old man or an old woman may say, 
 pointing at the fireplace, " These ashes were once 
 wood." But there are two things in this world 
 utterly unpardonable to say and to forget by 
 whom we have been beloved. My rocks of 
 Meillerie rise, but it is only in solitude that I 
 will ever gaze upon them. I have nothing to 
 do with people, nor people with me. A phren- 
 ologist once told me that he observed the mark 
 of veneration on my head. I told him in return 
 that I could give him a proof of it. I would 
 hold the stirrup for Kosciusko, the brandy- 
 bottle for Hofer, the standish for Southey, and 
 I declare to you upon oath that I firmly believe' 
 myself superior to any duke, prince, king, em- 
 peror, or pope existing, as the best of these
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 fellows is superior to the most sluggish and 
 mangy turnspit in his dominions ; and I swear 
 to you that I never will be, if I can help it, 
 where any such folks are-VWhy should I tell 
 my countrymen these things ? Why should I 
 make the worst-tempered nation in the world 
 more sullen and morose than ever? I love 
 good manners, and therefore keep out of their 
 way, avoiding all possibility of offence. I have 
 been reading Sir Egerton Brydges' Autobio- 
 graphy. In one of the pages I wrote down 
 this remark : Poor man ! He seems to be 
 writing in the month of January in the city of 
 London, the wind north-east, with his skin off. 
 I would not live in London the six winter 
 months for a thousand pounds a week. No, 
 not even with the privilege of hanging a Tory 
 on every lamp-arm to the right, and a Whig 
 on every one to the left the whole extent of 
 Piccadilly. This goes sadly against my patriot- 
 ism. Do not tell any of the Radicals that I am 
 grown so indifferent to the interests of our 
 country. It appears that you have a change of 
 ministry. I hope the Tories will leave Mr 
 
 20 1
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 Seymour his situation here as minister. He is 
 the first in Tuscany that ever did his duty. 
 How different from the idle profligate fiddler 
 you remember here, and the insolent adventurer 
 Dawkins. This ragamuffin, now minister in 
 Greece, has lately been well described in the 
 only work upon that country of any great use 
 or merit, by Tiersch. Abundant proofs are 
 given of his negligence and stupidity. Who 
 would imagine that he had profited so little by 
 living in such intimate familiarity with all the 
 swindlers, spies, and jockeys in Tuscany ? 
 However, he is much improved, I hear. If he 
 has not clean hands, he has clean gloves. I 
 have reason to believe that King Otho has 
 been informed of his character and of his sub- 
 servience to the arbitrary acts of Capo D'Istra.'
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Landor and Lord Blessington sail for Naples 
 Lander's Delight in the Bay His Impetuosity 
 The Blessingtons leave Florence The Palazzo 
 Negroni at Rome Attending a Bal Masque 
 Fallen Kings and Queens The Mother 
 of Napoleon Countess Guiccioli Byron's 
 Will Lord Blessington's Will Count D'Orsay's 
 Marriage Letter to Landor Once more in 
 Genoa The Story of Teresina Lord Blessing- 
 ton's Gift. 
 
 BEFORE the summer closed Lord Blessington 
 invited Landor to accompany him in his yacht 
 to Naples on an excursion which he was sure 
 would give pleasure to both. To this sugges- 
 tion Landor readily agreed, for he had never 
 seen Naples and as he wrote to his sister he 
 ' never could see it to such advantage as in the 
 company of a most delightful well-informed 
 man.' Lady Blessington remained in Florence 
 
 whilst the friends made their voyage. 
 203
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Landor was delighted with all he saw. Those 
 who had not seen the Bay of Naples could 
 form no idea of its beauty from anything they 
 had beheld elsewhere. La Cava was of all places 
 one of the most beautiful. ' It lies in the way 
 to Paestum. The ruins of the temples here, 
 if ruins they can be called, are magnificent : 
 but Grecian architecture does not turn into 
 ruin so grandly as Gothic. York Cathedral 
 a thousand years hence, when the Americans 
 have conquered and devastated the country, 
 will be more striking.' 
 
 His pleasant trip was suddenly interrupted. 
 At the time of his leaving Florence his boy 
 Arnold, just recovered from a fever, had been 
 pronounced quite convalescent, and had given 
 his Babbo, as he styled his father, leave of 
 absence for twenty-five days. On reaching 
 Naples Landor failed to and a letter from 
 home awaiting him. ' I was almost mad ' he 
 wrote to his sister ' for I fancied his illness 
 had returned. I hesitated between drowning 
 myself and going post back. At last I took 
 
 a place (the only one ; for one only is allowed 
 204
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 with the postman in what is called the dili- 
 gence). Meanwhile Lord Blessington told me 
 he would instantly set sail if I wished it, and 
 that I could go quicker by sea. I did so ; 
 and we arrived in four days at Leghorn. 
 
 ' Here he gave me a note enclosed in a letter 
 to him, informing me that Julia had been in 
 danger of her life, but was now better. I 
 found her quite unable to speak coherently ; 
 and unhappily she was in the country. Never- 
 theless the physician, who sometimes passed 
 the whole day with her, and once slept at the 
 house, never omitted for forty-three days to 
 visit her twice a day, and now by his great 
 care she has reached Florence. I brought her 
 part of the way by means of oxen, on the 
 sledge, and upon two mattresses. To-day the 
 physician will attend her for the last 
 time.' 
 
 Mrs Landor had caught a malignant fever 
 which the youngest child had likewise taken, 
 a fever that might have spread to the other 
 children had not Lady Blessington driven to 
 
 where they were then staying in the country 
 205
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 and brought them away with her to her own 
 residence. 
 
 After spending some eight months in Flor- 
 ence, the Blessingtons resolved to leave. Their 
 departure was a sad blow to Landor, who could 
 remember no pleasanter time of his life in 
 Italy than the summer evenings passed with 
 them in the Casa : for, as he wrote to his 
 mother 'he had never talked with a woman 
 more elegant or better-informed, more generous 
 or high-minded' than Lady Blessington. So 
 long as he remained in the city he never passed 
 the house they had occupied without feelings 
 of regret. ' It grieves me ' he writes to Lady 
 Blessington ' when I look up to the terrace ; 
 yet I never fail to look up at it when I am 
 anywhere in sight, as if grief were as attractive 
 as pleasure.' And then began his racy and 
 delightful letters to her, his correspondence 
 lasting till her death. Yet as a correspondent 
 he seems to have entertained but a poor opinion 
 of himself. ' Now all your letters are of value ' 
 he says to her ' and all mine stupid. I can 
 
 write a scene in a tragedy with greater ease 
 206
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 than a letter. I never know what to write 
 about. And what not to say is a thousand 
 times more difficult than what to say. But 
 you always supply me with materials, and 
 furnish me with a Grecian lamp to hang over 
 them.' 
 
 This is a charming compliment, but not the 
 most charming which he paid her as a corre- 
 spondent : for he tells her on another occasion 
 that he never entertains so high an opinion 
 of his imagination as when reading her letters. 
 ' They always make me fancy I hear and 
 almost see you ' he writes. Nor was Landor 
 the only man of genius who especially valued 
 this gift of hers. Years later Barry Cornwall 
 writing to her says ' Your little letters always 
 find me grateful to them. They (little paper 
 angels as they are) put devils of all kinds 
 from blue down to black to speedy flight.' And 
 again this poet tells her ' Your little notes come 
 into my Cimmerian cell like starlits shot from a 
 brighter region pretty and pleasant disturbers 
 of the darkness aSout me. I imprison them 
 
 (my Arieis) in a drawer, with conveyances and 
 
 207
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 wills etc., and such sublunary things, which 
 seem very proud of their society. Yet if your 
 notes to me be skiey visitors, what must this 
 my note be to you ? It must I fear, be an evil 
 genius.' 
 
 Her personality, atmosphere, or magnetism, 
 that undefined potency which comes as a natural 
 dower, without which it is impossible to impress 
 with love or hatred ; that subtle power which 
 was found fascinating in her intercourse, was 
 conveyed in her letters, and communicated its 
 spell to their readers. 
 
 From Florence the Blessingtons proceeded to 
 Rome which they reached in November 1827. 
 The palace which had been engaged for them 
 at a rental of forty pounds a month by no 
 means commended itself to the Countess, and 
 she immediately began a search for a residence 
 more suitable to her desires. After a time this 
 was found in the Palazzo Negroni where she 
 engaged the two principal floors at the rate of a 
 hundred guineas a month, for six months cer- 
 tain. 
 
 This being done she hired furniture at twenty- 
 208
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 pounds a month, and produced from her own 
 stores, eider-down pillows, curtains, and .table 
 covers with the aid of which she filled and 
 brightened the three great salons the family 
 were to occupy. 
 
 Then began anew that brilliant round of social 
 life such as they had known in Naples and 
 Florence. Scarce a day passed that they were 
 not entertaining or being entertained. Such 
 names as Count Funchal the Portuguese am- 
 bassador, Hallam the historian, Lord Howick, 
 the Due de Laval Montmorenci the French am- 
 bassador : the Princess de Montfort, Lord King, 
 the Marchesa Conzani, the Marchesa Camarata, 
 the Due and Duchesse de Brucciano, flash 
 through the pages of her diary as amongst those 
 whom she received. 
 
 One night when Lady Blessington attended a 
 bal masque given by the Duchesse de Brucciano, 
 she was struck by a figure moving amongst a 
 thousand others in gorgeous coloured costumes, 
 which figure, a female mask, presently addressed 
 her, making witty and piquant remarks, and then 
 
 turning away was lost in the brilliant maze 
 VOL. i. 209 o
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 around, leaving the Countess in wonder as to 
 whom it was. But again the female mask ap- 
 peared, and once more entering into conversa- 
 tion, announced that she was Hortense Bona- 
 parte daughter of Josephine, and ex-queen of 
 Holland, now styled the Duchesse de St Leu. 
 
 Before the night ended came another surprise. 
 A mask in a blue domino had several times 
 accosted her and kept up a lively conversation. 
 Before they finally parted he confessed himself 
 to be Jerome Bonaparte, brother of Napoleon, 
 and ex-king of Westphalia, then known as the 
 Prince de Montfort. 
 
 Lady Blessington willingly availed herself of an 
 invitation extended to her by the ex-queen of 
 Holland, who like everyone else soon felt the 
 charm of her manner, and becoming friendly 
 showed her the household gods she held dear ; 
 amongst them some fine portraits of Napoleon 
 and Josephine, her bed furniture and toilette 
 service of gilt plate, and her jewels including a 
 necklace of priceless diamonds presented by the 
 city of Paris to Josephine, and others given to 
 herself by the state of Holland. Nay, so pleased
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 was the ex-queen with her visitor, that she gave 
 her a turquoise and diamond ring which Jose- 
 phine had worn for many years, and that her 
 daughter highly valued. 
 
 Then one day as Lady Blessington and her 
 party were walking in the gardens of the 
 Vigna Palatina, they were surprised by the 
 arrival of the Prince and Princess de Mont- 
 fort with Madame Letitia Bonaparte, mother 
 of the great Napoleon, who was attended by 
 her chaplain, her dame de compagnie, and other 
 members of her suite. Having heard that 
 Madame Mere, as this mother of kings was 
 generally called, disliked meeting strangers, 
 the Blessington party retired to a distant 
 part of the garden ; but the Prince having 
 recognised their carriage in the courtyard, sent 
 a message requesting that they would join him. 
 On obeying they were presented to his 
 mother and his wife. Madame Mere's tall 
 slight figure though bowed by age, preserved 
 its natural dignity and grace ; her face, pale 
 and pensive was lighted by dark penetrat- 
 ing eyes ; her snowy hair was parted above
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 a high forehead furrowed by care. Dressed 
 in a robe of dark grey silk, 'a superb Cash- 
 mere shawl that looked like a tribute from 
 some barbaric sovereign, fell gracefully over 
 her shoulders,' her bonnet was worn over a 
 lace cap. 
 
 In a low and tremulous voice she greeted 
 those presented to her, and her eyes grew 
 dim when she spoke of her great son whom 
 she hoped ' soon to join in that better world 
 where no tears where shed.' She added ' I 
 thought I should have done so long ago, but 
 God sees what is best for us.' 
 
 A faded figure, remarkable as the mother 
 of the greatest man the modern world had 
 produced, and pitiable as the survivor of his 
 colossal wreckage, she walked in the noon- 
 tide sun around the garden which Roman 
 emperors had trod, weary of a life which had 
 known such startling vicissitudes. Before driv- 
 ing away she said ' kind and flattering things ' 
 to Lady Blessington whom she invited to 
 visit her, and then kissed her forehead in fare- 
 well. 
 
 212
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 A scarcely less interesting personage whom 
 Lady Blessington met at this time was the 
 Countess Guiccioli, now a prominent person- 
 age in Roman society. It has already been 
 stated that whilst staying at Genoa, Lady 
 Blessington had never seen Madame Guiccioli, 
 though Byron had frequently mentioned her, 
 and though her brother Count Gamba had been 
 frequently entertained by the Blessingtons. 
 
 It was however at a fete given by the Due 
 de Laval Montmorenci that Lady Blessington 
 first met the Contessa in whom she was much 
 interested. With regular features, a delicately 
 fair complexion, white teeth, beautiful red gold 
 hair, a finely-moulded bust and well-shaped 
 arms, she had every claim to be considered hand- 
 some ; but there was an absence of any strik- 
 ing characteristic, of any exalted beauty which 
 might naturally have been expected in one who 
 had won the ardent love of a man like Byron, 
 and stranger still who had kept it till his death. 
 
 At this time her husband was still amongst 
 the living and she was depending upon the 
 income he was compelled to allow her : for 
 213
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 contrary to all expection save perhaps her own, 
 her name was not mentioned in Byron's will. 
 That he had at one time intended to leave her 
 a considerable sum, there could be no doubt. 
 
 One day when he called on Lady Blessington 
 he stated that he had been occupied all the 
 morning in making his will, and that he had left 
 the Countess Guiccioli ten thousand pounds, 
 and would have made it twenty-five thousand 
 but that she suspecting his intentions had urged 
 him not to leave her any legacy. So fearful 
 was she, he said, of the possibility of having 
 interested motives attributed to her, that he was 
 certain she would prefer to suffer poverty rather 
 than to incur such suspicions; this being only one 
 of the innumerable instances of her delicacy and 
 disinterestedness, of which he had repeated proofs. 
 
 Lady Blessington suggested that if he left 
 the Countess the sum he had originally intended, 
 it would be a flattering proof of his affection for 
 her; and that she would always have the power 
 of refusing a part or the whole of the legacy 
 if she wished ; to which he seemed to agree. 
 
 He also told his banker Mr Barry that he 
 214
 
 LADY BLESS1NGTON 
 
 intended to leave in his hands a will in which 
 was a bequest of ten thousand pounds to 
 Madame Guiccioli : and when leaving Greece 
 the. poet instructed the banker to advance her 
 money. This she would never consent to 
 receive. When news came of Byron's death, 
 Barry took it for granted that the will would be 
 found amongst the sealed papers left with him 
 by the poet, but no such document was dis- 
 covered ; on which he immediately wrote to 
 the Countess asking if she knew anything con- 
 cerning it, mentioning at the same time what 
 Byron had said regarding the legacy. 
 
 To this she replied that he had frequently 
 spoken of the subject, but as it was painful 
 to her she had always turned the. conversation 
 and expressed a wish that no mention of her 
 name would be found ; for her income was 
 already sufficient for her wants ' and the world 
 might put a wrong construction on her attach- 
 ment, should it appear that her fortunes were 
 in any degree bettered by it.' The Countess 
 therefore, from a pecuniary point, in no ways 
 benefited by Byron's attachment. 
 215
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 And now came an incident in the domestic 
 life of the Blessingtons which was destined 
 to have unhappy results for those it most con- 
 cerned. It will be remembered that in April 
 1823 whilst they were at Genoa, news was 
 brought to the Earl that his only legitimate 
 son had died on the 26th of the previous month. 
 The loss of his heir was a serious grief to Lord 
 Blessington, especially as there seemed no pro- 
 bability of his being replaced, and the idea 
 therefore occurred to the peer to make one of 
 his daughters his heiress and marry her to his 
 friend Alfred D'Orsay. 
 
 Which of the girls was destined to become the 
 Countess D'Orsay he did not at first decide : both 
 were at this time mere children ; the one, Emily 
 Rosalie Hamilton born before her mother's mar- 
 riage with Lord Blessington, but known as Lady 
 Mary Gardiner being then in her twelfth year ; 
 whilst the other his legitimate daughter Lady 
 Harriet Anne Jane Frances Gardiner was twelve 
 months younger. It was not of course intended 
 that the marriage should take place for some time : 
 
 both girls were then living in Dublin under the 
 216
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 care of their paternal aunt Lady Harriet 
 Gardiner, who resided with her brother-in-law 
 the Bishop of Ossory. 
 
 Accordingly on the 2d of June 1823 Lord 
 Blessington whilst at Genoa made a codicil to 
 his will in which he stated that having had 
 the misfortune to lose his beloved son ' and 
 having entered into engagements with Alfred 
 Comte D'Orsay, that an alliance should take 
 place between him and my daughter, which 
 engagement has been sanctioned by Albert 
 Comte D'Orsay, General etc. in the service 
 of France, this is to declare and publish my 
 desire to leave to the said Alfred D'Orsay 
 my estates in the city and county of Dublin 
 ... for his and her use, whether it be 
 Mary (baptised Emily) Rosalie Hamilton, or 
 Harriet Anne Jane Frances, and to their heirs- 
 male, the said Alfred and said Mary or Harriet, 
 for ever in default of issue male, to follow the 
 provisions of the will and testament.' 
 
 Some two months later, on the 3ist of August, 
 Lord Blessington made a last will and testament 
 
 to the same effect, the choice of his daughters 
 217
 
 being still left open to the selection of the bride- 
 groom, who had never seen either, and could 
 not but be indifferent to both. 
 
 To one of Count D'Orsay's nationality there 
 was nothing contrary to custom in the fact of 
 a girl he had never seen, being selected for and 
 accepted by him as his wife. As was usual in 
 
 between the fathers of the prospective bride 
 and bridegroom, and it merely remained for him 
 to agree to their wishes : an agreement which 
 was doubtless the more readily given in view 
 of the immense fortune which was to fall to him. 
 That Lord Blessington had selected D'Orsay 
 to become his son-in-law, can be explained only 
 on the ground of the high estimate in which he 
 held the Count's character and abilities and the 
 affection which the Earl entertained for him. 
 It was true that when the codicil containing 
 such a proposal was drawn up, D'Orsay had 
 been a member of their party merely for a few 
 months ; but the four years which had elapsed 
 between this suggestion and the solemnisation 
 
 of the marriage, whilst giving Lord Blessing- 
 218
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 ton ample opportunity to see more of the Count, 
 had not caused him to alter his mind mean- 
 while. 
 
 Had Lady Blessington from any motive, 
 desired to prevent this marriage, there can be 
 little doubt that her influence, which was 
 supreme with her husband, could have effected 
 her wishes : but the probability was that like 
 the Earl, she considered that D'Orsay a man of 
 ancient lineage, possessing varied and brilliant 
 talents and remarkable for his personal gifts 
 would in all ways prove a desirable member 
 of their family. 
 
 It was eventually decided that the Earl's 
 legitimate daughter, the Lady Harriet, was to 
 become Count D'Orsay's wife, and she was 
 therefore sent for, and arrived at Florence 
 whilst the family were residing there. 
 
 Lady Harriet was at this time under seven- 
 teen. Slight and pale, silent and reserved, she 
 seemed even younger than her age. She had 
 never known her mother, had seen but little of 
 her father, had no acquaintance with the world, 
 
 was unused to strangers, and gave no indication 
 219
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 of the self-reliance and determination she after- 
 wards showed. With searching, timid eyes she 
 looked at the polite foreigner to whom in future 
 she was to belong ; she, having no will to 
 sanction or to refuse the arrangement made for 
 her ; no thought but to obey. On his part 
 Count D'Orsay was not inspired with love by 
 this school-girl who seemed incapable of appre- 
 ciating his best-turned compliments, and indif- 
 ferent to the graces which had won him high 
 reputation in a hundred drawing-rooms. 
 
 It was originally the intention of Lord 
 Blessington that the marriage should take place 
 in Florence, but hindrance to this arrange- 
 ment was given by the English Ambassador 
 in that city, John Lord Burghersh, afterwards 
 eleventh Earl of Westmoreland, who intimated 
 to the French Ambassador the Duke de Laval 
 Montmorenci that the ceremony according to 
 the rights of the English Church must precede 
 that of the Catholic Church. Moreover on some 
 personal remonstrance being made by Lady 
 Blessington he behaved with rudeness to her 
 and to her step-daughter ; an act which drew
 
 from Walter Savage Landor the following 
 wrathful letter : 
 
 ' DEAR LADY BLESSINGTON, If I could hear 
 of any wrong or any rudeness offered to you 
 without at least as much resentment as you 
 yourself would feel upon it, I should be un- 
 worthy not only of the friendship with which 
 you honour me, but of one moment's thought 
 or notice. Lord B. told me what had occurred 
 yesterday. I believe I may have said on other 
 occasions that nothing could surprise me, of 
 folly or indecorum in Lord Burghersh. I must 
 retract my words : the only ones he will ever 
 make me retract. That a man educated among 
 the sons of gentlemen could be guilty of such 
 incivility to two ladies, to say nothing of condi- 
 tion, nothing of person, nothing of acquaintance 
 and past courtesies, is inconceivable, even to the 
 most observant of his behaviour throughout the 
 whole period of his public life. From what I 
 have heard and known during a residence of six 
 years at Florence, I am convinced that all the 
 ministers of all the other Courts in Europe (I
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 may throw in those of Asia and Africa) have 
 never been guilty of so many unbecoming and 
 disgraceful actions as this man. The only per- 
 son for whom he ever interested himself was a 
 Count Aceto, the most notorious gambler and 
 profligate, who had been expelled from the 
 Tuscan and the Lucca States. And now his 
 conscience will not permit him to sanction a 
 father's disposal of his daughter in marriage 
 with almost the only man who deserves her, and 
 certainly the very man who deserves her most. 
 
 ' I said little in reply to Lord B., only to praise 
 his coolness and forbearance. Nothing can be 
 wiser than the resolution, to consider in the light 
 of diplomacy what has happened, or more 
 necessary than to represent it, in all its cir- 
 cumstances to the Administration at home ; 
 without which it cannot fail to be misinter- 
 preted here, whatever care and anxiety the 
 friends of your family may display, in setting 
 right the erroneous and malicious. I hope Count 
 D'Orsay sees the affair in the same point of 
 view as I do, and will allow his resentment to 
 lose itself among feelings more congenial to
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 him. Lord B., I do assure your ladyship, has 
 quite recovered his composure : I hope that 
 you have too otherwise the first smile on see- 
 ing him at Rome will not sufficiently reward 
 him for his firmness and his judgment 
 
 ' With every good wish in all its intensity to 
 the happy couple, and with one good wish of 
 much the same nature to Miss Power, I remain 
 your ladyship's very devoted servant.' 
 
 The Blessingtons therefore left Florence, as al- 
 ready stated, and arrived in Rome in November 
 1827, en route for Naples, where, according to 
 the Annual Register, the marriage of Lady 
 Harriet Gardiner and Count Alfred D'Orsay 
 was celebrated by the chaplain to the British 
 Embassy. The family then returned to Rome, 
 from where four days later the bridegroom 
 addressed the following letter concerning the 
 arrangements, to Landor : 
 
 ' ROME, Decembre 8, 1827. 
 
 ' MON CHER MR LANDOR, Nous avons tous 
 etc oblige d'aller a Naples pour faire le mariage 
 
 Protestant, car la premiere insinuation qu'a Ton 
 223
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 donna au Due de Laval, fut qu'il etoit preferable 
 que cela cut lieu avant la ceremonie Catholique, 
 ainsi voila ce grand imbecille d'un ministre con- 
 fondu. Son ignorant entetement est prouve. Je 
 viens de lui ecrire, pour lui dire que lors qu'on 
 est completement ignorant des devoirs de son 
 ministere on doit alors en place d'entetement s'en 
 rapporter a 1'opinion des autres, et que malgre 
 tout 1'embarras que nous avions eu a cause de 
 lui, d'entreprendre ce voyage, nous avions ete a 
 
 meme de juger de F , qui comprend tout 
 
 aussi, bien les devoirs de son ministere que la 
 maniere de recevoir les personnes de distinction. 
 'J'espere qu'il prendra mal ma lettre, car 
 j'aurais grand plaisir de lui couper le bout de 
 son bee. Je vous ecris ces details car je sais 
 meme par Hare, qu'en veritable ami vous avez 
 pris chaudement notre parti ; je ne m'en etonne 
 pas, car il suffit de vous connaitre, et de pouvoir 
 vous apprecier, pour etre convaincu que tout ce 
 qui n'est pas sincere n'a rien de commun avec 
 vous. Toute la famille vous envoye mille 
 amities, nous parlons et pensons souvent de 
 vous. Votre tres affectionne, D'ORSAV.' 
 
 224
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 Whatever the intentions of the newly- 
 married pair regarding their future home may 
 have been, for the present they lived in the 
 Palazzo Negroni, and from there travelled with 
 Lord and Lady Blessington and Miss Power 
 through Italy into France on their way to 
 England. 
 
 Passing through various towns they came at 
 last to Genoa, and here it was that a little in- 
 cident occurred which shows the thought and 
 kindness of Lady Blessington's disposition ; they 
 being the secret by which she won and held 
 the admiration and affection of all who knew 
 her. 
 
 During their first stay in the city she had 
 been attracted by a pretty child whose brown- 
 faced father mended shoes outside his door in 
 a narrow high-housed passage not far from 
 their hotel. This child, the little Teresina, who 
 was but two years old, was the light of her 
 parents' eyes ; and was dearer to them from 
 the fact that already they had lost two children 
 before they had reached her age. 
 
 Bright and merry she would dance round 
 VOL. i. 225 p
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 her father, put a flower to his nose, crow with 
 delight and hide behind the apron of her 
 mother, who knitting as she leaned against 
 the door-post, watched the sprite's movements, 
 greedy of happiness. One day Lady Bless- 
 ington stayed to kiss the child, by which 
 she won its parents' hearts for ever ; and after 
 this, whenever she would pass, Teresina would 
 clap her hands for joy, hold out a flower for 
 her to smell, or offer her lips to be kissed : 
 when the father and mother radiant with 
 pride and joy would tell in high-pitched tones 
 of their darling's wonderful intelligence. 
 
 Before leaving, the Countess bought some 
 presents, amongst them a silver medal of St 
 Teresa, for the child to whom she bade good-bye : 
 but next morning the father and mother with 
 their little one were waiting outside the hotel to 
 see them off, carrying two bouquets which they 
 presented, their prayers for the foreigners being 
 interrupted by tears. 
 
 On returning to Genoa the cobbler and his 
 wife were not in their accustomed place, and 
 
 nothing was known of them by those now 
 226
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 occupying their house. Anxious to see them, 
 Lady Blessington offered a reward to the 
 laquais-de-place if he could find them, and 
 eventually they were discovered in a poor 
 quarter of the town where she went to see 
 them. Nothing could equal their gratitude 
 and joy which soon however was turned in- 
 to tears. The light of their life had gone 
 out, and they could not remain in the old 
 darkened house. And for long they spoke 
 of the sorrow, the mother taking from her 
 neck the medal of which the child had been so 
 proud. Lady Blessington forced some presents 
 upon them and left them with their prayers 
 ringing in her ears. 
 
 A more cheerful episode marked the close 
 of this second visit to Genoa. They had 
 bidden farewell to all the well-remembered 
 spots including Byron's palace, and on the 
 morning of their departure, imperials and chaise 
 seats were packed, bills paid, ' canvas sacks of 
 silver given to the courier,' and letters of credit 
 made out, when Lady Blessington was taken 
 
 to see a charming carriage which had arrived 
 227
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 from England, and was similar to one she 
 had admired when in Florence, belonging to 
 the English minister's wife. She praised this 
 highly and was then told it was hers, having 
 been specially ordered and sent from London 
 for her journey. 
 
 ' Lord Blessington ' she says ' has a princely 
 way of bestowing gifts.' 
 
 228
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Hotel Marechal Ney The Most Gallant of all 
 Gallant Husbands A Round of Gaiety Mrs 
 Purves marries Letters from Tom Moore 
 Lord Rosslyn's Request Death of Lord Bless- 
 ington Letters from Landor Lady Blessing- 
 ton's Grief First Breath of Scandal The Age 
 and its Infamous Editor Instructions to prose- 
 cute Letters to Sympathisers. 
 
 TRAVELLING slowly as was their wont, the 
 Blessingtons, with the Count and Countess 
 D'Orsay and Miss Power, reached Paris on a 
 hot day in June 1828 and took up their resi- 
 dence in the Hotel de Terrasse, Rue de Rivoli. 
 Their stay here was but temporary, one of 
 the first things which occupied them being the 
 search for a suitable residence. This after some 
 time was found in a magnificent house which 
 had once belonged to Marechal Ney. 
 
 This mansion which had been to let but three 
 
 days, was taken at an enormous rental by the 
 229
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Blessingtons, who outbid all competitors. It 
 was situated in the Rue de Bourbon and looked 
 out upon the gardens of the Tuileries and the 
 Seine. Approached by an avenue of trees that 
 ended in a court, it was enclosed from the Rue 
 de Bourbon by high walls, and separated from 
 the Ouai d'Orsay by a terrace planted with 
 flowers. From a lofty vestibule opened suites 
 of finely-proportioned rooms with fluted pil- 
 asters and chimney-pieces of Parian marble, 
 their walls and ceilings still fresh with decora- 
 tions that had cost a million francs. 
 
 Furniture suitable to this palatial residence 
 was now hired for a year, on condition that 
 should its purchase be desirable after that period, 
 allowance would be made for the hire money. 
 Whilst the house was being prepared Lady 
 Blessington amused herself by visiting it, but 
 was not allowed to see her bed, dressing, or bath- 
 rooms until they were finished ; this suite being 
 specially decorated and furnished from designs 
 by her husband, who when they were completed 
 took her to see them. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the luxury of these
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 apartments. A silvered bed rested on the back 
 of silver swans ' so exquisitely sculptured that 
 every feather is in alto relievo and looks nearly 
 as fleecy as those of the living bird.' Curtains 
 of pale blue silk, carpets of uncut pile, silver 
 lamps, luxurious couches, immense mirrors, and 
 ' a rich coffer for jewels,' completed the arrange- 
 ments. The bathroom was more beautiful 
 still, with its white marble and its frescoed 
 ceiling representing Flora scattering flowers 
 with one hand, whilst from the other was 
 suspended an alabaster lamp in the shape of 
 a lotus. 
 
 ' The whole fitting up is in exquisite taste ' 
 she writes ' and as usual, when my most gallant 
 of all gallant husbands that it ever fell to the 
 happy lot of woman to possess, interferes, no 
 expense has been spared. A queen could desire 
 nothing better for her own private apartments. 
 Few queens, most probably, ever had such taste- 
 ful ones.' 
 
 On the day before they moved into their new 
 residence, June I4th, Lord Blessington wrote to 
 Landor telling him of their intended change, 
 231
 
 and stating that Lady Blessington wished that 
 some whim, caprice, or other impelling power 
 might transport him across the Alps, and give 
 them the pleasure of again seeing him. 
 
 ' Here we have been nearly five weeks ' he 
 tells his correspondent 'and unlike to Italy and 
 its suns, we have no remembrance of the former, 
 but in the rolling of the thunder ; and when we 
 see the latter, we espy at the same time the 
 threatening clouds on the horizon. To balance 
 or assist such pleasure we have an apartment 
 bien decore with Jardin de Tuileries en face, and 
 our apartment being at the corner, we have the 
 double advantage of all the row from morning 
 till night. Diligences and fiacres coachmen 
 cracking their whips, stallions neighing, carts 
 with empty wine barrels all sorts of discordant 
 music, and all kinds of cries, songs, and the 
 jingling of bells. But we hope this is our last 
 day of purgatory : for though the skies are 
 loaded with more water than one could expect 
 after so much pouring, yet midst thunder, 
 lightning, and rain, we are to strike our tents 
 
 and march.' 
 
 232
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 A staff of domestics including a groom of the 
 chambers, a maitre d "hotel, and a cook who was 
 - 'an inimitable artist' was added to the servants 
 who had travelled with the family. Once settled 
 in their new home the Blessingtons began to 
 entertain with their usual sumptuous hospitality. 
 A vast number of guests, foreign princes and 
 princesses, dukes and duchesses, counts and 
 countesses, English ambassadors and men of 
 title, were bidden to dinners, breakfasts, and 
 suppers ; the host and hostess being en- 
 tertained in return. A glittering gaiety 
 seemed the order of the day. Now they are 
 in their box at the opera witnessing the debut 
 of Taglioni who has introduced a new style of 
 dancing, 'graceful beyond all comparison, won- 
 derful lightness, an absence of all violent effort, 
 and a modesty as new as it is delightful to 
 witness in her art.' Again they attend a 
 grand review in the Champ de Mars at which 
 Charles X., the dauphin, dauphine, and the 
 Duchesse de Berri were present ; Lady 
 Blessington chaperoned by the Duchesse 
 de Guiche, sitting beside the Marchioness de 
 233
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Louie sister to the King of Portugal, in the 
 front row of the grand pavilion. 
 
 All things seemed to prosper with Lady 
 Blessington ; and amongst other pleasant events 
 came the marriage of her sister Ellen, Mrs 
 Purves, to the Right Honourable John Manners 
 Sutton, afterwards Viscount Canterbury, which 
 was celebrated on the 6th of December 1828. 
 Mr Manners Sutton had been a widower since 
 1815, whilst Mrs Purves had been a widow 
 since the 2/th of September 1827, her husband 
 having died on that date at Pensacola where he 
 had for four years held the post of British 
 Consul. Amongst the letters of congratulation 
 which Lady Blessington received on this mar- 
 riage was the following from her friend 
 Landor : 
 
 ' Fortune is not often too kind to me indeed 
 why should she be, but when she is, it is reason- 
 able enough I should be grateful. We have 
 come at last to this agreement, that whenever 
 she does anything pleasant to you, I may take 
 my part in the pleasure, nem. con., and as large 
 a part as anyone except yourself and Lord B. 
 234
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 She then put something into the opposite scale, 
 and said it was but just. I laughed to hear her 
 talk of justice, but owned it. Now I will lay a 
 wager that, of the hundreds of letters you and 
 my lord have received to congratulate you on the 
 marriage of Mrs Purves, not one has been so 
 long in coming to the point. . . . 
 
 ' I am waiting very anxiously to offer Miss 
 Power better compliments than these of the 
 season. Why is she contented with holly, 
 when she may have myrtle ? I must not begin 
 to ponder and meditate, for whatever effect these 
 ponderings and meditations may have upon the 
 ponderer and meditator, the effect is likely to be 
 very different on those whom they befall. And 
 I do not think your post comes in at bedtime. 
 I have not yet transgressed so far, that I may 
 not request to be presented to all your house, 
 and to wish you many many years of health and 
 happiness.' 
 
 A month before this event took place Lady 
 
 Blessington received a letter from her old 
 
 friend Tom Moore who was then engaged in 
 
 writing his life of Byron. Moore had heard 
 
 235
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 from Lord John Russell that she had seen a 
 good deal of Byron during his last days in 
 Italy, that she could narrate many anecdotes of 
 him, and that she possessed some verses ad- 
 dressed to herself by the poet. ' Now my dear 
 Lady Blessington ' wrote Moore insinuatingly, 
 ' if you have anything like the same cordial 
 remembrances of old times that I have if ever 
 the poet (or the piper) found favour in your 
 ears, sit down instantly and record for me as 
 only a woman can record, every particular of 
 your acquaintance with Byron from first to last. 
 Above all do not forget the verses, which will 
 be doubly precious as written by hint on yon? 
 
 Lady Blessington ever anxious to help or to 
 please her friends, readily complied with his 
 request, and to her is due the interesting par- 
 ticulars the biographer gives of Byron's last 
 days in Genoa. When the book was published 
 however she was not forwarded a presentation 
 copy, ' all owing to a mistake, or rather a diffi- 
 culty in the way of business ' as Moore wrote to 
 explain when reminded of his want of courtesy. 
 
 ' It is too long a story for a man in a hurry to 
 236
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 relate, but you will understand enough, when I 
 tell you that the dispensation of the presentation 
 copies was a joint concern between Murray 
 and me, and that having by mistake exceeded 
 my number, I was unwilling to embarrass my 
 account by going further. 
 
 ' But mind whatever copy you may have read 
 me in, the one you must go to sleep upon (when 
 inclined for a doze) must be a portable octavo 
 presented by myself. You deserve ten times 
 more than this, not only for your old friendship, 
 but for the use you have been to the said volumes 
 by the very interesting and (in the present state 
 of the patrimonial question) apropos contribu- 
 tions you have furnished.' 
 
 The year 1829 did not begin propitiously for 
 Lady Blessington ; her health became uncertain, 
 she was subject to depression. Writing to 
 Landor in February she begs that he will not 
 think her ungrateful for not answering his last 
 letter ' but when I tell you ' she says ' that for the 
 last two months I have only twice attempted to 
 use my pen, and both times was compelled to 
 abandon it, you will acquit me of neglect or 
 237
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 negligence, neither of which, towards those whom 
 I esteem and value as highly as I do you, are 
 among the catalogue of my faults. The change 
 of climate, operating on a constitution none of 
 the strongest, and an unusually severe winter, to 
 me, who for years have only seen Italian ones, 
 has brought on a severe attack of rheumatism 
 in the head, that has not only precluded the 
 possibility of writing, but nearly of reading 
 also.' 
 
 It was a couple of months later, during which 
 she felt little better, that her husband received 
 from Lord Rosslyn who acted as whip for 
 his party, the following letter relative to the 
 Catholic Emancipation Bill, which was then 
 agitating the United Kingdom : 
 
 ' Knowing the deep interest you have always 
 taken in the peace and prosperity of Ireland, 
 and the anxious zeal with which you have upon 
 every occasion exerted yourself in favour of the 
 repeal of the civil disabilities upon the Catholics, 
 I take the earliest opportunity of apprising you 
 of the present situation of that question. 
 
 ' It has become of the utmost consequence to 
 238
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 obtain the best attendance of the friends of civil 
 and religious liberty, in order to give all possible 
 support to the measure proposed by the Duke of 
 Wellington. 
 
 ' I am persuaded that you will feel with me that 
 the present is a crisis that calls for every possible 
 exertion and sacrifice from those who have as 
 strong feelings and as deep a stake in the peace 
 and prosperity of Ireland as you have ; and you 
 cannot fail to be aware that the object of the 
 Orange and Brunswick Clubs in both countries 
 is to defeat the salutary measures proposed by 
 the Duke of Wellington, and consequently to 
 endanger the security of all property in Ireland 
 and the peace of the Empire. 
 
 ' If you see this subject in the same light that I 
 do, you will not hesitate to come over to take 
 your seat ; and I should venture to suggest to 
 your lordship, if that should be your determina- 
 tion, that you should come before the second 
 reading of the Bill, and remain till after the 
 Committee ; and if you will do me the honour 
 to signify your commands to me, I will take 
 care to give you timely notice of the day on 
 239
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 which it may be necessary for you to be in the 
 House of Lords for the purpose of taking the 
 oaths, and will take charge of seeing that 
 your writ is ready.' 
 
 Though Lord Blessington was not quite well 
 at this time, and though the journey from the 
 French to the English capital was tedious and 
 uncomfortable, he resolved to cross the Channel 
 and be in his place in the House of Peers when 
 the bill came up for discussion ; for my Lord was 
 a liberal man in his ideas, and had ever been a 
 lover of his country. Lady Blessington writes 
 that he never considered himself, when a duty 
 was to be performed. She adds, ' I wish 
 the question was carried and he safely back 
 again. What would our political friends 
 say if they knew how strongly I urged 
 him not to go, but to send his proxy to 
 Lord Rosslyn ? ' 
 
 His journey seemed to have no ill results, for 
 when in London he appeared in excellent spirits 
 and good health. He voted for the Catholic 
 Emancipation Bill, which was passed by a 
 
 majority of one hundred and five ; saw many of 
 240
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 his friends and entertained them in St James's 
 Square ; dined with Lord Rosslyn ; and at the 
 request of the Duke of Clarence, presided at the 
 Covent Garden theatrical fund dinner. He then 
 set out again for France where he was joyously 
 welcomed by his wife, his daughter, and his 
 son-in-law. Always lavishly generous to the 
 woman he loved, he came back to her laden 
 with presents. ' Some of them ' she writes 
 'are quite beautiful and would excite the 
 envy of half my sex.' 
 
 Lord Blessington had been generally careful of 
 his health, but for years had suffered from gout, 
 was susceptible to cold, and had a horror of 
 draughts. D'Orsay used laughingly to tell the 
 Earl he could detect a current of air caused by 
 the key being left crossways in the keyhole of a 
 door. 
 
 Charles Mathews tells an anecdote of being 
 with him and Lady Blessington when they went 
 on an exploring expedition to Baiae, where was 
 an old Roman villa whose foundations extended 
 out into the bay, whilst portions of its walls rose 
 about two or three feet above the water. 
 
 VOL. I. 241 Q
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 On these young Mathews skipped about at 
 his pleasure, when to his surprise Lord Bless- 
 ington called out 'Take care, take care, for 
 heaven's sake mind what you are about : you'll 
 be in the water to a certainty.' 
 
 Mathews took no heed, on which the warning 
 was repeated greatly to his surprise, for my 
 lord had little fear of danger for himself or 
 others ; when Lady Blessington begged he 
 would let the boy alone. ' If he does fall into 
 the water what can it matter ? ' she asked. 
 ' You know he swims like a fish.' 
 
 ' Yes, yes ' answered the Earl ' that's all very 
 well, but I shall catch my death driving home 
 in the carriage with him.' 
 
 At the time when danger was nearest to him 
 it was least feared. Paris was looking at its 
 best and brightest one day soon after his 
 return from London, the parity of spring and 
 the promise of summer in the air, the sky clear 
 for the sun, and the city gay with colour, all on 
 this May day which was to be the last but 
 one for this most devoted of husbands, this 
 
 generous-hearted, open-handed, pleasure-loving 
 242
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 man ; than whom as Walter Savage Landor 
 wrote, ' none was ever dearer or more delightful 
 to his friends.' 
 
 It was on a Saturday the 23d of the month 
 that soon after the mid-day meal he complained 
 of not feeling well ; when he drank a few spoon- 
 fuls of Eau de Melisse in water. An hour 
 or so later, feeling much better he ordered his 
 horse, and followed by his servant rode out of 
 the courtyard of his house, a gallant upright 
 figure, his sunny high-coloured face turned to- 
 wards the window from which his wife watched 
 him, he waving his hand in response to her 
 smiles. 
 
 A little later and he was carried home insen- 
 sible from an attack of apoplexy. Doctors 
 were hastily summoned, and all that love could 
 do was done ; the knowledge of its helplessness 
 being in such cases love's bitterest grief. From 
 the first he remained speechless and insensible, 
 his wife distracted and fearful beside him, 
 servants coming and going, his daughter and 
 her husband seldom absent from the room over 
 
 which the sombreness of death seemed already 
 243
 
 to have settled. All through Sunday, a day of 
 sunshine and joyousness without, of grief and 
 terror within, his condition remained un- 
 changed : but on Monday morning at half-past 
 four the stertorous breathing ceased, and those 
 around were forced to recognise that he was 
 gone. In this way did Charles James first Earl 
 of Blessington die in the forty-sixth year of his 
 age. 
 
 ' Nothing can equal the grief of poor Lady 
 Blessington' writes her sister to Landor. 'In 
 fact she is so ill that we are quite uneasy about 
 her, and so is also poor Lady Harriet. But 
 not only ourselves but all our friends are in the 
 greatest affliction since this melancholy event. 
 Fancy what a dreadful blow it is to us all to 
 lose him ; he who was so kind, so generous, so 
 truly good a man.' 
 
 By this unforeseen event his wife was de- 
 prived of the man who had raised her from 
 dependence and obscurity to rank and fortune, 
 whose will was hers, whose life was devoted to 
 her. In every way her loss was irreparable 
 
 and she mourned him bitterly. Their many 
 244
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 friends wrote messages of sympathy which 
 at such a time had little power to touch 
 the wound with healing. Amongst all she 
 received, those written by Landor, appealed to 
 her most. In a letter dated the 6th of June he 
 writes to her : 
 
 ' If I defer it any longer., I know not how 
 or when I shall be able to fulfil so melancholy 
 a duty. The whole of this day I have spent 
 in that stupid depression which some may feel 
 without a great calamity, and which others can 
 never feel at all. Everyone that knows me 
 knows the sentiments I bore towards that dis- 
 interested and upright and kind-hearted man, 
 than whom none was ever dearer or more 
 delightful to his friends. If to be condoled 
 with by many, if to be esteemed and beloved by 
 all whom you have admitted to your society is 
 any comfort, that comfort at least is yours. I 
 know how inadequate it must be at such a 
 moment, but I know too that the sentiment 
 will survive when the bitterness of sorrow shall 
 have past away. 
 
 ' You know how many have had reason to 
 245
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 speak of you with gratitude, and all speak in 
 admiration of your generous and gentle heart, 
 incapable as they are of estimating the eleva- 
 tion of your mind. 
 
 ' Among the last letters I received, was one 
 from Mrs Dashwood, whose sister married poor 
 Reginald Heber, the late Bishop of Calcutta. 
 She is a cousin of Hare's, and has heard 
 Augustus speak of you as I have often written. 
 Her words are (if she speaks of faults, remember 
 you are both women), " I wish I was intimate 
 with her, for, whatever may be her faults, so 
 many virtues can be told of few." 
 
 ' These are the expressions of a woman who 
 has seen and lived amongst whatever is best 
 and most brilliant, and whose judgment is as 
 sound as her heart, and does she not speak 
 of introduction merely, but of intimacy: it is 
 neither her curiosity nor her pride that seeks 
 the gratification. 
 
 ' I fear that the recovery of your health may 
 yet be retarded, about which I have often 
 thought of writing to Count D'Orsay, for nothing 
 
 is more inconsiderate than to oppress with a 
 246
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 weight of letters one whom you know to suffer, 
 and to be more than enough fatigued already. 
 May he and his Countess endeavour to promote 
 your happiness as anxiously as you have pro- 
 moted theirs ! 
 
 ' Believe me, dear Lady Blessington, your 
 very faithful and devoted servV 
 
 And the following month he writes to her on 
 the same subject : 
 
 'DEAR LADY BLESSINGTON, Too well was 
 I aware how great my pain must be in reading 
 your letter. So many hopes are torn away from 
 us by this unexpected and most cruel blow. I 
 cannot part with the one of which the greatness 
 and the justness of your grief almost deprives 
 me that you will recover your health and spirits. 
 If they could return at once, or very soon, you 
 would be unworthy of that love which the 
 kindest and best of human beings lavished on 
 you. Longer life was not necessary for him to 
 estimate your affection for him, and those graces 
 of soul which your beauty, in its brightest day, 
 but faintly shadowed. He told me that you 
 
 were requisite to his happiness, and that he 
 
 247
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 could not live without you. Suppose thefi he 
 had survived you his departure, in that case, 
 could not have been so easy as it was, so un- 
 conscious of pain of giving it, or leaving it 
 behind. I would most wish such a temper and 
 soul as his, and next to them such a dissolution. 
 Tho' my hand and my whole body shakes as I 
 am writing it, yet I am writing the truth. Its 
 suddenness the thing most desirable is the 
 thing that most shocks us. I am comforted at 
 the reflection that so gentle a heart received no 
 affliction from the anguish and despair of those 
 he loved. You have often brought me over to 
 your opinion after an obstinate rather than a 
 powerful contest ; let me, now I am more in the 
 right, bring you over by degrees to mine, and 
 believe me, dear Lady Blessington, your ever 
 devoted servant.' 
 
 The Earl's death had been so sudden, so un- 
 foreseen, that its shock and pain were the more 
 terrible to one who owed him an inestimable 
 debt of love and gratitude which it had been her 
 highest happiness to repay. Since her marriage 
 
 her life had been so full of pleasure that this 
 248
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 quick succeeding grief was intolerable. The 
 world seemed completely changed for her. And 
 as in all sensitive natures the strength of the 
 body depends on the condition of the mind, her 
 health gave way and caused much anxiety to 
 those around. 
 
 The state of her feelings will be best under- 
 stood when the following letter written two 
 months after her loss, to Mrs Charles Mathews, 
 is read : 
 
 ' I thank you for your kind letter ' she begins 
 ' and feel deeply sensible of the sympathy of 
 you and your excellent family, under the cruel 
 and heavy blow that has fallen on me in the loss 
 of the best of husbands and of men ; these are 
 not mere words of course, as all who knew him 
 will bear witness, for never did so kind or gentle 
 a heart inhabit a human form ; and I feel this 
 dreadful blow with even more bitterness, because 
 it appears to me, that while I possessed the in- 
 estimable blessing I have lost, I was not to 
 the full extent sensible of its value ; while now 
 all his many virtues and good qualities rise up 
 
 every moment in memory, and I would give 
 
 249
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 worlds to pass over again the years that can 
 never return. 
 
 ' Had I been prepared for this dreadful event 
 by any previous illness, I might perhaps have 
 borne up against it: but falling on me like 
 some dreadful storm, it has for ever struck at 
 the root of my peace of mind, and rendered 
 all the future a blank. It is not whilst those to 
 whom we are attached are around us in the 
 enjoyment of health and the prospect of a long 
 life, that we can judge of the extent of our feel- 
 ings towards them, or how necessary they are 
 to our existence. We are God help us, too apt 
 to underrate the good we have, and to see the 
 little defects to which even the most faultless 
 are subject : while their good qualities are not re- 
 membered as they ought to be, until some cruel 
 blow like that which has blighted me, draws 
 the veil from our eyes, and every virtue, every 
 proof of affection, are remembered with anguish, 
 while every defect is forgotten. 
 
 'What renders my feelings still more bitter 
 is, that during the last few years my health 
 
 has been so bad, and violent attacks in my 
 250
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 head so frequent, that I allowed my mind 
 to be too much engrossed by my own selfish 
 feelings, and an idea of my poor dear and 
 ever-to-be-lamented husband being snatched 
 away before me, never could have been con- 
 templated. 
 
 ' Alas, he who was in perfect health, and whose 
 life was so precious and so valuable to so many, 
 is in one fatal day torn from me for ever, while 
 I, who believed my days numbered am left to 
 drag on a life I now feel a burden. 
 
 ' Excuse my writing to you in this strain : 
 I would not appear unkind or ungrateful in 
 not answering your letters, and my feelings 
 are too bitter to prevent my writing in any 
 other.' 
 
 In a letter penned more than five years after 
 her husband's death, a date which it may be 
 well to bear in mind, she gives expression to 
 her feelings regarding him, in a letter addressed 
 to Landor. In this, bearing date July 1834 she 
 says : 
 
 ' I have often wished that you would note 
 down for me your reminiscences of your friend- 
 251
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 ship and the conversations it led to with my dear 
 and ever-to-be-lamented husband : he who so 
 valued and loved you, and was so little under- 
 stood by the common herd of mankind. We 
 who knew the nobleness, the generosity, and 
 the refined delicacy of his nature, can render 
 justice to his memory, and I wish that posterity 
 through your means should know him as he 
 was. All that I could say would be viewed as 
 the partiality of a wife, but a friend and such 
 a friend as you, might convey a true sketch of 
 him.' 
 
 And now began a time of change and trouble 
 for one whose ways had previously been made 
 smooth by every means that luxury and 
 love could suggest. For in the first place 
 through the death of her lord her circumstances 
 underwent a change, as indeed they must have 
 done had he lived, owing to his vast expendi- 
 ture, his disregard for money, his neglect of his 
 property which had become heavily encum- 
 bered. According to his last will and testa- 
 ment he left her two thousand a year inclusive 
 
 of one thousand pounds settled on her at the 
 252
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 time of his marriage ; ' with all her own jewels, 
 requesting that she may divide my late wife's 
 jewels between my two daughters at the time 
 of her decease'; all his carnages, parapher- 
 nalia and plate ; and the lease of the house in 
 St James's Square, at the expiration of which 
 the furniture, books etc. were to be moved to 
 his residence at Mountjoy Forest. It may 
 also be mentioned here that he left a thousand 
 pounds each to Robert and to Mary Anne 
 Power. 
 
 To one living in the splendour to which she 
 had been accustomed for the past ten years, an 
 annuity of two thousand a year seemed small. 
 But this was not all. Within four months of 
 her husband's death, at a time that she was 
 suffering mentally and physically, and before 
 Count D'Orsay was separated from his wife, 
 the report of a scandal was heard which con- 
 nected his name with Lady Blessington ; a 
 scandal which first found voice in a scurrilous 
 London newspaper called the Age. 
 
 This was a paper which in no ways relied for 
 its circulation on the intelligence of the day but 
 253
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 rather on its slanderous attacks on individuals. 
 It was started in 1828 and had for its first 
 editor one Richards, who soon gave place to the 
 notorious Westmacott. Tory in its politics it 
 especially assailed the characters of those who 
 differed from its political opinions. It was not 
 however public men alone, but private indi- 
 viduals, women as well as men, generally those 
 of high social standing, against whom it made 
 the gravest charges. 
 
 This paper was rivalled but not equalled in 
 vileness by the Satirist, whose province it was 
 to defame all connected with the Tory party ; 
 so that between those pests no man or woman 
 was safe. Calumnies were their stock-in-trade : 
 to traduce was their delight. 
 
 It is humiliating to human nature to have to 
 relate that these journals were largely indebted 
 for the foul reports they published, to individuals 
 chiefly women who from motives of personal 
 malice desired to ruin those they traduced and 
 to whom they openly professed friendship, as 
 was proved. There was one means however 
 of escape, and that was by paying the heavy 
 254
 
 LA D Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 demands of the blackmailer : for the editors 
 of these villainous papers were in the habit of 
 writing to their intended victims, telling them 
 that certain grave charges had been made 
 against them, and intimating that they were 
 aware of facts more grievous still, particulars of 
 which were for the present withheld, but all of 
 which would be published if within a certain 
 date a specified sum was not forthcoming. If 
 this were paid, they need have no uneasiness ; 
 the unpleasant matter referred to would never 
 see the light. 
 
 From the fact that many innocent but pusill- 
 animous persons paid the money demanded 
 rather than have their reputations blasted ; as 
 well as from the second fact that these papers 
 small in size and published at sevenpence a 
 number had each a circulation of about nine 
 thousand copies a week, it will be seen that 
 the proprietors prospered: their respective in- 
 comes reaching about six thousand a year. 
 
 Though some of the maligned were pleased 
 to suffer in silence, in the hope of being able to 
 live down the scandals circulated about them 
 255
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 in these papers, there were others more courage- 
 ous who sought justice in the law courts, or 
 satisfaction by personal punishment of the 
 editors. Actions for libel were therefore con- 
 tinually taken and heavy damages awarded to 
 the injured ; but the publicity which the 
 journals received at such times, but served as 
 advertisements which increased their circula- 
 tion ; so that the charges for advertisements 
 were raised. 
 
 Lord Alfred Paget was to his credit one of 
 the courageous sufferers who sought redress 
 from the law. He had been charged by the 
 Age with striving to extort money from Lord 
 Cardigan by accusing him of improper inter- 
 course with Lady Alfred. The plaintiff swore 
 that the conductors of the Age had already 
 threatened that if he did not remit them a 
 certain sum, they would publish private facts 
 in their possession regarding the Paget family, 
 a sum which he had paid. 
 
 Those who sought to punish the editors were 
 not in general so successful as those who ap- 
 pealed to the law ; for it was the practice of 
 256
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 these papers to have in their employ an indi- 
 vidual of Herculean proportions, generally a 
 Hibernian of the brutal type, who on the editor 
 being inquired for, stepped forward bludgeon 
 in hand, and declaring himself to be that indi- 
 vidual, demanded with a grim smile what his 
 visitor might be pleased to \vant. That such 
 a condition of tyranny, ' the greatest under the 
 sun,' as the Lord Chief Justice who tried one 
 of the libel cases stated, was suffered for years, 
 seems extraordinary : but it is more wonder- 
 ful still that the chief offender Westmacott 
 was received by a company of decent men. 
 
 Such however was the case : for James Grant 
 says that soon after coming to London he 
 dined at Willis's Rooms on a public occasion 
 when to his surprise he found the editor and 
 proprietor of the Age amongst the company, 
 and learned that his name had previously 
 figured in the list of stewards, most of whom 
 were dukes, marquises, and earls, chiefly belong- 
 ing to the Tory party. ' And at the dinner ' he 
 says 'no man played a more prominent part 
 
 than he. Was it not lamentable to see all the 
 VOL. i. 257 R
 
 THE MOST GOXGEOUS 
 
 principles alike of honour and morality sacri- 
 ficed, as was the case in this instance, to the 
 exigencies of party ? ' 
 
 This was the editor in whose paper appeared 
 the insinuations against Lady Blessington's 
 reputation ; insinuations which were repeated 
 by the thoughtless and malicious, from the 
 effects of which she was never able to rid 
 herself. 
 
 As may be surmised this filth was flung at 
 her from behind the shelter of an anonymous 
 name. In a letter dated Paris 24th of September 
 1829, and signed ' Otiosus,' the writer after men- 
 tioning various people, women as well as men, in 
 a flippant, impertinent, or injurious way, goes on 
 to say ' Alfred D'Orsay with his pretty pink and 
 white face drives about a la Petersham with a 
 cocked-up hat and a long-tailed cream-coloured 
 horse. He says he will have seventeen thousand 
 a year to spend, others say seventeen hundred : 
 he and my lady go on as usual.' 
 
 In a second letter dated October 5th the same 
 writer ventures still further in his scandalous in- 
 sinuations. 'What, a menage is that of Lady 
 258
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 Blessington ' he says. ' It would create strange 
 sensations were it not for one fair flower that still 
 blooms under the shade of the Upas. Can it be 
 conceived in England that Mr Alfred D'Orsay 
 has publicly detailed to what degree he carries 
 his apathy for his pretty interesting wife. This 
 young gentleman, Lady Blessington, and the 
 virgin wife of sweet sixteen all live together.' 
 
 Shocked and grieved by such insinuations, 
 Lady Blessington wrote to Mr Powell the solici- 
 tor and friend of her late husband, instructing him 
 to take proceedings against the paper. Probably 
 he did not consider that the letters, containing 
 subtle insinuations rather than definite charges, 
 were actionable ; at all events in the following 
 December Lady Blessington writes to a friend 
 complaining that nothing as yet has been done 
 * either in discovering the author of the scandal- 
 ous attacks against me, or in preventing a 
 renewal of them.' 
 
 Later she heard that an acquaintance of 
 
 theirs a certain Colonel C was the writer 
 
 of the scandal, and when next she saw him she 
 
 charged him with the offence, as will be seen 
 
 259
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 by the following letter, written to Mrs Charles 
 Mathevvs : 
 
 ' All that has occurred on the- subject of the 
 attacks in the Age, I shall now lay before you. 
 I wrote to Mr Powell urging him to commence a 
 prosecution against the editor and stated to him 
 that Lord Stuart de Rothsay had advised me to 
 do so, as the only means of putting a stop to 
 these attacks. Mr Powell was of a different 
 opinion, and advised our treating the attack with 
 contempt ; and so the affair ended. 
 
 'When Colonel C returned to Paris in 
 
 February and came to see me, I told him of my 
 information as to his being the author of the 
 attacks ; but this I did without ever even hinting 
 at my informant. He declared his innocence in 
 the most positive terms, gave his word of honour 
 that he had never written a line in his life of 
 scandal for any paper, and never could lend 
 himself to so base and vile a proceeding. His 
 manner of denial was most convincing, and so it 
 ended. 
 
 ' Two months ago Captain G of the Guards 
 
 who had been very severely attacked in the Age 
 260
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 went to London and took a friend with him to the 
 Editor of the Age, who even gave him a small 
 piece of the letter sent from Paris, which Cap- 
 tain G sent Comte D'Orsay, and which is 
 
 a totally different writing from Colonel C 's : 
 
 and so here ended the business, as it was use- 
 less to do anything more except commence a 
 prosecution which I still think ought to have 
 been done. 
 
 ' Mr Powell has never given either Comte 
 D'Orsay or myself the least information since 
 last January on this subject; and now you know 
 all that I do on this point. I have never seen 
 a single number of the Age, do not know a 
 single person who takes it in, and never hear 
 it named, so that I am in total ignorance as to 
 the attacks it contains.' 
 
 This scandalous report seems to have had 
 little effect upon her friends, for not only did 
 the distinguished foreigners with whom she was 
 already intimate continue to gather round her, 
 but English acquaintances passing through or 
 visiting Paris, made certain to call upon her. 
 
 Amongst them such men as Lord John Russell, 
 
 261
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Samuel Rogers, the Duke of Hamilton, Lords 
 Palmerston, Castlereagh, Pembroke, and Cado- 
 gan, who delighted to converse with her. 
 
 Moreover, her step-daughter, known as Lady 
 Mary, visited and remained with her three 
 weeks ; the girl feeling the charm of her per- 
 sonality which all who approached Lady 
 Blessington were quick to acknowledge. ' She 
 is all that is most perfect ' the latter writes of 
 her step-daughter ' her dear father's kind, noble, 
 and generous heart, with a manner the most 
 captivating : I adore her, and I believe she 
 loves me as few girls can love a mother.' 
 
 She now became occupied with business 
 matters in connection with her husband's pro- 
 perty which was in some confusion ; and the 
 inconvenience of remaining in Paris became 
 evident. Still she was reluctant to leave the 
 French capital and in a letter to Mrs Charles 
 Mathews dated October 1829 she expresses 
 her dislike of returning to England, and de- 
 clares that business alone could persuade her 
 to settle in London ' for death ' she adds ' has 
 
 deprived me of the friend who could have 
 262
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 rendered my visit there as happy and pros- 
 perous as all my days were when he lived. 
 The contrast between the past and the present 
 would and will be most poignant, but should 
 our affairs require it I shall certainly go.' 
 
 And two months later she says she is still ill 
 in mind and body and unequal to the exertion 
 of writing. ' Indeed my health suffers so much 
 that I fear I shall be obliged to give up residing 
 at Paris, and be compelled to try the effects of 
 English air : and this will be very painful to 
 me, after having gone to so much expense and 
 trouble in arranging my rooms here, where I am 
 so comfortably lodged, besides which a resi- 
 dence in England under my present circum- 
 stances would be so different to all that I have 
 been accustomed to, that I cannot contemplate 
 it without pain. But after all, without health 
 there is no enjoyment of even the quiet and 
 sober nature which I seek a cheerful fireside 
 with a friend or two to enliven it, or what is 
 still perhaps more easily had, a good book. 
 I have never had a day's health since I have 
 
 been in France : and though I do all that 
 263
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 I am advised, I get worse rather than 
 better.' 
 
 Towards the end of this year her spirits seem 
 to have fallen to a low ebb, and she evidently 
 suffered keenly from depression. 
 
 Writing to a friend from Paris, November 30, 
 1829 she says mournfully enough that her cor- 
 respondent is one of the few who do not quite 
 forget her : that she has experienced much in- 
 gratitude and unkindness which added to the 
 heavy blow that had fallen on her made her 
 dread lest she should become a misanthrope and 
 her heart shut itself against the world. 
 
 'If you knew' she adds 'the bitter feelings 
 the treatment I have met with has excited in my 
 breast, you would not wonder that it has frozen 
 the genial current of life, and that I look as 
 I am, more of another world than this. Had 
 God spared me my ever dear and lamented 
 husband, I could have borne up against the 
 unkindness and ingratitude of friends estranged : 
 but as it is the blow has been too heavy for me, 
 and I look in vain on every side for consolation. 
 
 ' I am wrong my dearest in writing to you in 
 264
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 this gloomy mood, but if I waited until I be- 
 came more cheerful, God alone knows when your 
 letter would be answered. You are young and 
 life is all before you, take example by me and 
 conquer while yet you may, tenderness of heart 
 and susceptibility of feeling which only tend to 
 make the person who possesses them wretched ; 
 for be assured you will meet but few capable of 
 understanding or appreciating such feelings, and 
 you will become the dupe of the cold and heart- 
 less, who contemn what they cannot under- 
 stand, and repay with ingratitude the affection 
 lavished on them. 
 
 ' I would not thus advise you, if I did not 
 know that you had genius ; and whoever had 
 that fatal gift without its attendant malady, 
 susceptibility and deep feeling, which in spite 
 of all mental endowments render their possessor 
 dependent on others for their happiness : for 
 it may appear a paradox, but it is nevertheless 
 true, those who are most endowed can the 
 least suffice for their own happiness.' 
 
 For months she hesitated about leaving Paris. 
 
 In May 1830 she writes that she can name 
 
 265
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 no definite period for her return to England ; 
 ' pecuniary affairs prevent me at present, though 
 I am anxious to go, in the hope that change of 
 air may do me good, my health and spirits 
 being very, very poorly. This month as your 
 heart may tell you, is a great trial to me ; it has 
 renewed my grief with a vividness that you 
 can understand : for it is dreadful to see all 
 nature blooming around, and to think that the 
 last time I welcomed the approach of spring, 
 I was as happy as heart could wish, blessed 
 with the best and most delicate of friends, while 
 now all around me wears the same aspect, and 
 all within my heart is blighted for ever.' 
 
 It was not until November 1830 that she 
 left Paris. When the day came for her to bid 
 farewell to her friends she quite broke down, 
 foreseeing that she would never meet many of 
 them again. 
 
 ' Adieu Paris ' she writes in her diary ' Two 
 years and a half ago I entered you with glad- 
 ness, and the future looked bright ; I leave you 
 with altered feelings, for the present is cheer- 
 less and the future clouded.' 
 266
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 In St James's Square Removal to Seamore 
 Place Splendour of Lady Blessing ton's Home 
 Distinguished Guests D'Orsay the Leader of 
 Dandies Courted by all His Neglected Wife 
 Separation Lady Harriet's Friendship with 
 Royalty Scandal A Brave Show Lady Bless- 
 ington's Letters. 
 
 IN November 1830 Lady Blessington with 
 her sister Miss Power and the Count and 
 Countess D'Orsay returned to London and 
 took up their residence in St James's Square. 
 Their stay here however was not for long. 
 It will be remembered that according to the 
 late Earl's will, his wife was left this residence 
 until its lease expired, when its furniture and 
 belongings were to be removed to Mountjoy 
 Forest. To maintain so large an establish- 
 ment was an expense which Lady Blessington 
 with her dowry of merely two thousand 
 267
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 a year, could not afford : and as she had 
 brought with her from abroad a quantity of 
 beautiful cabinets, tables, and other furniture, 
 together with carpets, pictures, china, orna- 
 ments, and various objects of art, she resolved 
 to sell her interest in the remaining years of 
 the lease, and rent a smaller house for which 
 she already had almost sufficient furniture. 
 
 Though she sanctioned and enjoyed the 
 lavish expenditure in which her husband's 
 princely income allowed him to indulge ; from 
 this time forward, without depriving herself 
 of the splendour which had become necessary 
 to her enjoyment, she became an excellent 
 manager, who systematically kept her accounts 
 and sought to control her outlay. Her first 
 movement now was to let the St James's 
 Square mansion which was rented furnished 
 by the Windham Club for thirteen hundred 
 and fifty pounds per annum ; but as the head 
 rent was eight hundred and forty pounds a 
 year, this did not add much to her income : 
 especially as she was being continually worried 
 
 by claims for repairs of the house which 
 268
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 was much dilapidated. She therefore eventually 
 sold her interest in it to the executors of 
 Lord Blessington's will. 
 
 From St James's Square she moved to a 
 house in Seamore Place which, decorated 
 from designs by D'Orsay and furnished accord- 
 ing to her taste, became as Disraeli said 
 ' the most charming of modern houses.' Its 
 library was long and narrow, with deep 
 windows looking out upon Hyde Park, its 
 walls of white and gold were well nigh covered 
 with handsomely bound volumes, above whose 
 cases stood royal blue vases that had once 
 belonged to Marie Antoinette and porcelain 
 bowls on whose purple surface glittered the 
 Imperial cipher. Etruscan tripods stood in 
 its corners ; in its recesses were desks of red 
 tortoise-shell boule work. The drawing-room 
 with its deep rich tones of ruby and gold, 
 was not less splendid. Here were turquoise and 
 Sevres-topped tables, old boule-winged cabinets, 
 antique jugs of flawless amber that had 
 belonged to Josephine, Indian jars, porcelain 
 
 essence burners, candelabra of jasper and 
 269
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 filagree gold, and a thousand other objects 
 that dazzled and delighted the sight. 
 
 Jekyll writing to a friend described the 
 house as ' a bijou, or, as Sir W. Curtis' lady 
 said a perfect bougie' Little wonder that 
 Sir William Cell writing from Naples says, 
 that Keppel Craven tells him, her house ' is 
 so exquisite in all respects that he thinks 
 it impossible anything can ever tempt you 
 to move again.' 
 
 Altogether Lady Blessington made her home 
 a stately and beautiful place worthy of the 
 bright company that was to gather there and 
 become associated with her name for ever. 
 For no sooner had she settled in London 
 than the friends who had been introduced to 
 her by her husband, as well as many of those 
 she had met abroad, mindful of the charm 
 of her personality, grateful for the kindness 
 she had extended to them, hastened to .pay 
 her their court : all of them anxious again to 
 expand their minds in the atmosphere of one 
 so sympathetic and gracious, so graceful and 
 
 beautiful. 
 
 270
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 The noblest men in the land, ministers, 
 ambassadors, and politicians ; great artists 
 such as Sir Edwin Landseer, Sir Michael 
 Archer Shee, David Wilkie, Sir Francis Grant, 
 Maclise, and Mulready ; famous poets such as 
 Moore, Rogers, and Campbell ; Indian princes ; 
 generals and diplomatists ; men of various 
 callings and diverse minds all found in her 
 the interest each required in his pursuit, the 
 advice that some requested, the encourage- 
 ment which others needed ; her exquisite tact 
 guiding her to the knowledge of individual 
 temperament, and prompting the words ap- 
 propriate to each man's mood ; the natural 
 kindness of her heart and fascination of her 
 personality, binding all to her service, free 
 slaves of a woman they loved. 
 
 Never was she seen to such supreme 
 advantage, never were the charms of her 
 personality more persuasive than when seated 
 at the head of her dinner-table surrounded by 
 a brilliant company of friends. Here, resplend- 
 ent and picturesque, enthroned in a state- 
 chair glowing in crimson and gold, which had 
 271
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 been ordered by George IV. for the reception 
 of Louis XVIII. she presided over a feast 
 worthy of her guests and of herself. 
 
 Always sumptuous in her apparel, the rich- 
 hued velvets and sun-gleaming satins she 
 wore, lost in smoothness by contrast with the 
 softness of her rounded throat, the delicate 
 curving breasts, her shoulders, and beautifully 
 shaped arms ; with every elegant movement of 
 which her jewels shone as with the splendour 
 of starlight. The wide calm forehead was yet 
 without a line, the exquisite mouth was as 
 mobile and tender as before. The grey-blue 
 eyes whose wistfulness was visible in their 
 depths, whose colour deepened to violet in 
 the shadow of their lids, lighted a face not the 
 less fascinating now it no longer retained the 
 violent freshness of youth ; for time had 
 taught and sorrow had softened, and each in 
 turn had added its tribute to an expression, 
 that more than the shape of feature or the 
 outline of face, was found the chiefest of her 
 charms. 
 
 The soothing light of candles fell upon a 
 272
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 table set with a service of chased silver and 
 old gold, and beautified after a fashion Lady 
 Blessington was first to introduce with the 
 luxuriant colour of mellow fruits and odorous 
 flowers in dishes and bowls of sea - green 
 Sevres and purple porcelain. The rich amber 
 or deep ruby of rare and fragrant wines 
 caught the light of taper flames, whose re- 
 flections in the goblet-shaped glasses, gleamed 
 as might sacred lamps on the altar of 
 Epicurus. Servants in powder, wearing 
 magnificent liveries of green and gold walked 
 silent-footed as if they trod on air, serving 
 ready-carved a mode new to England the 
 pompous procession of dishes whose insinu- 
 ating flavour wooed the most reluctant appetite. 
 And all around, serving as a frame to so 
 fair a picture, was the superb octagonal-shaped 
 room in which was empannelled mirrors that 
 duplicated the lights until they looked in- 
 numerable^ Those bidden to the enjoyment 
 of such perfect pleasures, were men whose 
 talents and achievements were their passports 
 to the presence of their gracious hostess. In 
 
 VOL. I. 273 S
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 such company as hers, amidst such scenes 
 as this, the heart kept holiday, the mind was 
 brightest. And so the wittiest sally of Jekyll, 
 the cleverest stories of Lyndhurst and 
 Brougham, the best of Moore's bon mots, the 
 worthiest epigram of Rogers, Lord Wel- 
 lesley's daintiest compliment, were reserved 
 for her ears. Indeed at her table, as Jekyll 
 wrote ' there was wit, fun, epigram, and raillery 
 enough to supply fifty county members for 
 a twelvemonth.' ^ 
 
 In all cases the conversation around her 
 board or in her salon, was directed rather 
 than led by her ; who though a delightful 
 talker and a ranconteuse without equal, pre- 
 ferred to listen to those who could charm 
 and amuse, and was ever anxious to draw 
 from each his views on the talent which dis- 
 tinguished him most; so that she made all 
 men appear at their best to themselves and 
 to others. 
 
 At this date her circle was not enriched 
 by the host of editors, authors, and journalists 
 
 which it was soon to number when she joined 
 274
 
 LAD Y BLESSINGTON 
 
 their ranks. Nor in England, were women, 
 her own relatives and a few intimates excepted, 
 found at her table : for in this country the 
 circumstances which preceded her second 
 marriage, were considered to place an insur- 
 mountable obstacle to social intercourse with 
 her own sex ; a prejudice that was not lessened 
 by the scandalous insinuations of a scurrilous 
 journal, and by an event which soon happened 
 -in her domestic circle. 
 
 It may however be mentioned here that 
 many of her most intimate friends have stated, 
 that none of those who knew her thoroughly, 
 believed her guilty of the charges of intimacy 
 with Count D'Orsay, made against her by the 
 world at large, which remained ignorant of 
 her real character and of the force of circum- 
 stances by which she was beset. 
 
 She was not however wholly ostracised by 
 her own sex, for by some bye-law of conven- 
 tion difficult to understand, many women, 
 chiefly belonging to the literary calling, visited 
 her by day, but rigorously excluded them- 
 selves from her salon at night. On her part 
 275
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 Lady Blessington made it a rule never to 
 accept invitations even when coming from 
 those who called upon her : a sense of dignity 
 counselling her to avoid accidental meeting 
 with those who doubting her position, might 
 wound her susceptibilities. 
 
 Therefore on nights when she did not visit 
 the theatre or the opera house, she received 
 at home from eight till twelve, when she 
 enjoyed the conversation of the most intel- 
 lectual men of the day, who not infrequently 
 gave her their confidence and sought her 
 advice ; in this manner probably compensating 
 for her exclusion from the gossip, scandal, 
 and frivolity indulged in by those of her 
 sex whose virtue debarred them from her 
 presence. 
 
 Next to herself the member of her house- 
 hold on whom the inquisitive eyes of the 
 world were most watchfully turned, who with 
 her occupied the chief place in the gossip of 
 society, was Count D'Orsay. On his return 
 to London he was in his thirtieth year, a tall 
 
 distinguished-looking man with a remarkably 
 276
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 graceful figure, clearly cut features, auburn 
 hair and hazel eyes. His manners had the 
 charm and courtesy associated with the courts 
 of France in olden days ; his conversation was 
 brilliant in its polished vivacity : his talents 
 were various, and his good-nature was ap- 
 parent to all. Mrs Newton Crosland whom 
 he once took into dinner, remarked that his 
 hands, large, white, and apparently soft, 'had 
 not the physiognomy which pleases the critical 
 observer and student of hands' for they in- 
 dicated self-indulgence. She was indeed one 
 of the few who did not admire him ; for he 
 struck her observant eyes as being ' mannish 
 rather than manly, and yet with a touch of 
 effeminacy quite different from that woman- 
 like tenderness which adds to the excellence 
 of man.' The many who liked him included 
 Byron, Lamartine, and Landor ; and later 
 amongst his warmest friends were Charles 
 Dickens, Captain Marryat, Disraeli and Bulwer ; 
 the two last-mentioned authors dedicating each 
 a book to him : whilst John Forster declared 
 
 the Count's ' pleasantry, wit, and kindliness, 
 
 277
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 gave him a wonderful fascination ; ' an attesta- 
 tion borne out by Albany Fonblanque who 
 said ' the unique characteristic of D'Orsay 
 is, that the most brilliant wit is uniformly 
 exercised in the most good-natured way. He 
 can be wittier with kindness than the rest of 
 the world with malice.' 
 
 Born without a sense of the proportion or 
 value of money, he squandered in reckless 
 extravagance whatever sums came in his way. 
 His wardrobe was inexhaustible, his horses 
 were thoroughbreds, his brougham a work of 
 
 art, the appointments of his toilet of massive 
 
 j^/ 
 silver and old gold. 
 
 Above all things he delighted in emphasising 
 his noble air and distinguished figure by a 
 peculiarity of dress and an exaggeration of 
 fashion which in a man of less remarkable 
 appearance might be considered foppery or 
 affectation. Among other extravagant fancies 
 he suited the shape of his hat to the cut of 
 his coat : donning a hat of smaller dimensions 
 when wearing a thin coat, and of larger size 
 
 when he \vore a thick overcoat or his famous 
 278
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 sealskin, which he was the first to introduce 
 to England. In summer he was seen in all 
 the glory of a white coat, blue satin cravat v 
 primrose gloves scented with eau de jasmine, 
 and patent leather boots whose lustre was 
 only second to the sun. 
 
 The leader of the dandies, they copied the 
 cut of his garments, the style of his cravats, 
 the fashion of his canes ; whilst bootmakers, 
 tailors, and glovers dubbed their wares with 
 his name, as a means of insuring their sale. 
 But though he occupied the unenviable position 
 of a leader of fashion, his talents preserved 
 him from being despised as a fop by his in- 
 tellectual friends, who however, sometimes 
 good-naturedly bantered him on his splendouny 
 Walter Savage Landor who was anxious that 
 D'Orsay ' should put his pen in motion ' wrote 
 to Lady Blessington that he had grown as 
 rich as Rothschild ' and if Count D'Orsay 
 could see me in my new coat, he would not 
 invite me so pressingly to come to London. 
 It would brew ill-blood between us half 
 
 plague, half cholera. He would say. " I wish 
 279
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 that fellow had his red forehead again, the 
 deuce might powder it for him." However as 
 I go out very little I shall not divide the 
 world with him.' 
 
 Never perhaps had a man created such 
 a sensation in society as Count D'Orsay. 
 Whether he were guilty or not of the charges 
 which scandal then or afterwards insinuated, 
 was immaterial to those who sought him : 
 save that it lent him a certain piquant interest 
 in the eyes of women who kept apart from 
 Lady Blessington because of her suspected 
 share in his sin : for the noblest hostesses in 
 London gladly opened their doors to him, 
 courted his company, and vied with each 
 other in inviting him to their tables. 
 
 He soon became the central figure in a 
 hundred London drawing-rooms, where his 
 epigrams were repeated and his wit was 
 echoed ; at Crockford's he gambled for big 
 sums, showing the same good-humoured in- 
 difference over his losses as in his gains ; 
 at the Coventry he laid down rules regarding 
 
 sport, on which he was an acknowledged 
 
 280
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 authority; whilst again he flashed into a 
 studio such as Benjamin Haydon's, where he 
 made capital remarks on the picture of the 
 Duke of Wellington the artist was painting, 
 all of which were sound, impressive, and grand 
 ' and must be attended to ' : and then in a 
 jiffy to illustrate what he meant, in the full 
 pride of his dandyism and without removing 
 his immaculate gloves, 'he took up a nasty 
 oily dirty hogtool ' and lowered the hind 
 quarters of Copenhagen the Duke's charger, 
 by bringing over a bit of sky. After that 
 he bounded into his cab like a young Apollo 
 with a fiery Pegasus, as the painter writes, 
 adding quaintly enough ' I looked after him. 
 I like to see such specimens.' 
 
 Meanwhile Lady Harriet who was his wife 
 in name only, had grown into a remarkably 
 handsome woman, with finely chiselled features, 
 a delicate complexion, and a distinguished 
 air. In August 1831 she had reached her 
 nineteenth birthday : and had now gained a 
 self-possession, force of will, and power of 
 
 thought that, had they been hers some four 
 281
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 years previously, would have preserved her 
 from a union which was unsuitable and 
 unhappy from the first. Her temperament 
 in all ways differed from D'Orsay's. Brilliant, 
 dashing, and amusing, he saw the world from 
 an exterior point, whilst she in the solitude 
 which she preferred, and because of the wrongs 
 which were hers, had become sensitive and 
 grave, had grown to look beneath the surface 
 of things, and to regard mankind for what 
 they were, rather than for what they seemed. 
 That her husband who was almost 
 worshipped abroad, neglected one who failed 
 to appreciate him, there can be no doubt ; 
 and the injustice of his treatment was em- 
 phasised by the fact of all he owed her. 
 For within twelve months of his marriage he 
 received as part of her dowry twenty thousand 
 pounds: whilst Lord Blessington bound his 
 executors, within twelve months of his decease 
 to invest a similar sum in the funds, the 
 interest thereof to be paid to Count D'Orsay 
 during his life, and after his death to his wife 
 
 Lady Harriet : the principal at her death 
 282
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 going to any children of their marriage, or 
 in case of failure of issue, to be held in trust 
 for the executor and administrator of D'Orsay. 
 
 Though Lady Blessington extended to her 
 the kindness she showed to all, yet Lady 
 Harriet, young, retiring, and occupying an 
 equivocal position, could not but feel sup- 
 pressed, and considered herself slighted in 
 the society which gathered round her beauti- 
 ful and intellectual step-mother. Jekyll in 
 one of his letters to Lady Gertrude Sloane 
 Stanley gives a picture of ' the pretty 
 melancholy Comtesse ' gliding into the draw- 
 ing-room for a few minutes after one of those 
 Cuisine de 'Paris exquise at which she had not 
 been present, and then retiring ' to nurse her 
 influenza.' Instead of being the wife of her 
 husband and the mistress of a home, she found 
 herself a supernumerary in a circle with which 
 she had no sympathy. Disagreements followed, 
 rebellion set in ; and in the autumn of 1831, she 
 and Count D'Orsay separated by mutual consent. 
 
 Her subsequent history may be anticipated. 
 
 Haying left: S.eamo.re Place, she, accompanied 
 
 283
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 by her aunt and her sister, travelled through 
 Italy and eventually settled in Paris. Here 
 she occupied her time in writing feuilletons 
 and novels in the French language, in the 
 preface to one of which, L Ombre du 
 Bonheur, she says ' Being left alone in the 
 wide world at twenty years of age, without 
 the blessings of a family and without any 
 direct objects to which my affections might 
 be legitimately attached, I soon acquired the 
 habits of contemplation and remark, and as 
 an inevitable consequence that of writing. 
 Silent and reserved it was a constant con- 
 solation to me to confine my inmost thoughts 
 to the guardianship of paper, instead of 
 communicating them to those everyday 
 acquaintances, miscalled friends : who too 
 frequently wantonly betray that confidence 
 which has been intrusted to them.' 
 
 In Paris she mixed amongst the society to 
 which her rank entitled her. Young and 
 beautiful, unprotected and sympathetic, she 
 was much admired, and eventually she con- 
 tracted a friendship with the Due d'Orleans, 
 284
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 prince royal of France and son of Louis 
 Philippe 'whose sheltering kindness' we are 
 delicately told ' could not have been other- 
 wise than thankfully received by one in so 
 desolate and peculiar a situation.' 
 
 On Lady's Harriet's departure, the scandal 
 that before had seemed vague and ill-founded, 
 now gained strength, and as it would appear 
 foundation. All kinds of rumours were in the 
 air. Count D'Orsay could no longer remain 
 under Lady Blessington's roof, and accordingly 
 he took a small house in Curzon Street close 
 by. Neither he nor the Countess seemed to 
 realise that a return to his own country 
 was necessary to silence slander. He was 
 so to speak her son-in-law, a family tie 
 regarded with more reverence in his country 
 than in this ; she was nearly twelve years 
 his senior ; and moreover shortly before her 
 death his mother had extracted a promise 
 from Lady Blessington that she would look 
 after the Count, who as has already been 
 stated, was wholly ignorant of the value of 
 
 money, and incapable of curtailing his own 
 
 285
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 extravagances, or of guarding himself against 
 imposition. 
 
 At all events Count D'Orsay, though living 
 elsewhere, was constantly in Lady Blessington's 
 house, where it will be remembered her sister 
 Miss Power resided ; he entertaining her guests, 
 and maintaining with her an unbroken friend- 
 ship : their manner being, as Mrs Newton 
 Crosland says, ' very much that of mother 
 and son.' 
 
 Though secretly humiliated and grieved by 
 the scandal which assailed her, Lady Blessing- 
 ton now more than ever resolved to present 
 a brave front to the world. Accordingly she 
 entertained as before, the distinguished men 
 who remained her friends through life ; and 
 frequently was present in her box at the 
 opera where sumptuously attired and magni- 
 ficently bejewelled, she was, .more than royalty 
 itself, the object on which thousands of eyes 
 were curiously bent, towards which innumer- 
 able glasses were turned : she receiving 
 between the acts, as might a queen her 
 
 courtiers, the most notable members of both 
 286
 
 LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 houses of parliament, judges, generals, and 
 diplomats who came to pay her in public 
 the tribute of their homage. 
 
 And when she drove abroad to take the 
 air, her passage through the streets or round 
 the Row, attracted the wonder and admiration 
 of all who saw : for her carriage ' the most 
 faultless thing of its kind in the world,' 
 resembled a chariot in size. Gracefully built 
 and lightly hung, it was painted green, the 
 wheels white picked out with green and 
 crimson, whilst the panels were emblazoned 
 with arms and supporters, surmounted by a 
 coronet. It was drawn by a splendid pair 
 of dark bays, and driven by a coachman in 
 powdered hair, velvet breeches, and silken 
 stockings, whose elevation on an unusually 
 high box-seat, made him conspicuous above 
 his fellows. The two footmen who stood 
 behind were clad as he, and matched each 
 other in their equal height of six feet. 
 
 But all this bravery of appearance did not 
 shield her against the mortifications to which 
 
 an equivocal position exposed a woman of 
 
 287
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS 
 
 sensitive mind, whose desire it was to win 
 the amity of all, to incur the malice of none. 
 And guard against them as she might, or 
 ignore them as she would make it appear, 
 there were ever slights and slurs to be met 
 and endured, flung at her in subtle and 
 unexpected ways by her relentless sex, which 
 in secret made her wince. 
 
 It was only to those whom she believed 
 were her sincere friends, that she deigned 
 to show her heart. Amongst those she 
 included Mrs Charles Mathews, who since 
 her son had been the guest of the Bless- 
 ingtons, had continually expressed her grati- 
 tude to and friendship for them. Writing 
 to her a few weeks after Lady Harriet's 
 departure, the Countess says ' Your letter 
 found me sinking under all the nervous 
 excitation natural for a sensitive person to 
 feel under such painful and embarrassing 
 circumstances as I find myself placed in.' 
 
 And towards the end of this year, December 
 the 7th, 1831, in a letter also addressed to 
 
 Mrs Mathews, there is a bitter cry that shows 
 288
 
 LADY BLESS1NGTON 
 
 how sore was the wound from which she 
 suffered. In this she says 'What shall I 
 say in return for the many sweet but too 
 flattering things your partiality has prompted 
 you to address to me ? All that I say is, 
 that if it had been my lot in life to have 
 met with many hearts like yours, I might 
 have become all that your affection leads 
 you to believe me ; or if in my near relations 
 I had met with only kind usage or delicacy, 
 I should now not only be a happier, but a 
 better woman, for happiness and goodness 
 are more frequently allied than we think. 
 
 ' But I confess to you my beloved friend, a 
 great part of the milk and honey of nature 
 with which my heart originally overflowed is 
 turned into gall : and though I have still 
 enough goodness left to prevent its bitterness 
 from falling even on those who have caused 
 it, yet have I not power to prevent its cor- 
 roding my own heart, and rusting many 
 of the qualities with which nature had 
 blessed me. 
 
 ' To have a proud spirit with a tender heart 
 VOL. i. 289 T
 
 THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY BLESSINGTON 
 
 is an unfortunate union, and I have not been 
 able to curb the first or steel the second ; 
 and when I have felt myself the dupe of 
 those for whom I sacrificed so much, and in 
 return only asked for affection, it has soured 
 me against a world where I feel alone mis- 
 understood with my very best qualities turned 
 against me. If an envious or a jealous crowd 
 misjudge or condemn, a proud spirit can bear 
 up against injustice, conscious of its own recti- 
 tude ; but if in the most inveterate assailants 
 one finds those whom we believe to be our 
 trusted friends, the blow is incurable and 
 leaves behind a wound that will in spite of 
 every effort, bleed afresh as memory recalls 
 the cruel conduct that inflicted it. 
 
 ' Caesar defended himself against his foes, 
 but when he saw his friend Brutus strike at 
 him, he gave up the struggle. If anything 
 can preserve me from the mildew of the 
 soul that is growing on me, it will be your 
 affection which almost reconciles me to human 
 
 nature.' 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 Colston and Coy. Limited, Printers, Edinburgh.
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 PRINTED IN U.S.A.