Gautier’s admiration for Grisi was enthusiastic. “Qu’est-ce que Giselle?” he asked the day after the first performance, thus answering his own question: “Giselle, c’est Carlotta Grisi, une charmante fille aux yeux bleus, au sourire fin et naïf, à la démarche alerte, une Italienne qui a l’air d’une Allemande à s’y tromper, comme l’Allemande Fanny avait l’air d’une Andalouse de Séville.... Pour la pantomime, elle a dépassé toutes les espérances. Pas un geste de convention. Pas un mouvement faux. C’est la nature prise sur le fait.”
Another of her admirers described Carlotta in the following quaint terms: “... a blonde beauty; her eyes are of a soft and lovely blue, her mouth is small, and her complexion is of a rare freshness and delicacy.... Her figure is symmetrical, for, though slight, she has not that anatomical thinness, which is so common among the danseuses of the Académie Royale. Her grace is not more surprising than her aplomb. She never appears to exert herself, but can execute the most incredible tours de force with a perfect tranquillity.”
Grisi’s success in London was stupendous. She appeared here at Drury Lane, and later at Her Majesty’s, for the Opera seasons. On her farewell appearance in “The Peri” (by Théophile Gautier, Coralli and Burgmüller) at the end of the season in November, 1843, the Illustrated London News gave the following note:
“Carlotta Grisi took her farewell of an English audience on Saturday night (i.e. November 18th, 1843) in the popular ballet of ‘The Peri,’ when a brilliant company was present to bid adieu to their favourite dancer. On the entrance of Mdlle. Grisi, there was one unanimous burst of applause, and each movement of her graceful figure was the signal for renewed approbation. When the famous leap was given, cries of encore re-echoed from every part of the house, and once again the favourite, with a spirit undaunted, leaped into the arms of the lover in the ballet. The applause continued undiminished until the fall of the curtain—then the enthusiasm became a furore, and the name of ‘Grisi’ was uttered by a thousand voices. She soon appeared, led on by Petipa, and in looks more expressive than words, spoke her thanks for the kindness which she has received and merited. Wreaths and bouquets were plenteously showered on the dancer, and our artist has attempted a representation of the enthusiastic scene.
“After the performances, Mr. Bunn gave an elegant supper in the grand saloon of the theatre to about seventy of his friends and patrons. The entertainment was intended as a complimentary leave-taking to Carlotta Grisi, on her quitting London to fulfil her engagements in Paris. After proposing the health of Carlotta Grisi, Mr. Bunn presented that lady with a superb bracelet of black enamel, richly ornamented with diamonds, as a slight souvenir of her highly successful career at Drury Lane Theatre. Attached to the bracelet was the following inscription: ‘Présenté à Mlle. Carlotta Grisi, la danseuse la plus poétique de l’univers, avec les hommages respectueux de son directeur A. Bunn, Théâtre Royal, Drury Lane, 18th November, 1843.’”
A contemporary enthusiast, writing of her in 1846, said: “Her name is henceforth inseparably connected with the charming and poetic creations which her own grace and beauty have immortalised: ‘Giselle,’ ‘Beatrix,’ ‘La Péri,’ have attained a celebrity equal to that of ‘La Sylphide’ and ‘La Fille du Danube,’ and the most devoted admirer of Taglioni can scarcely refuse a tribute of homage to the bewitching elegance of Carlotta Grisi. Wherever she goes, her reception is the same; if she is idolised in Paris, she is adored in London. The impression produced by her performance of ‘La Péri,’ at Drury Lane, in 1843, will not be easily forgotten, and her more recent triumph in the ‘Pas de Quatre’ is still fresh in the recollection of the habitués of the Opera. Nor must we omit her last creations of Mazourka in the ‘Diable à Quatre’ and ‘Paquita.’ It is impossible to describe the fascinating naïveté of her manner, the arch and lively humour of her pantomime, and the extraordinary precision and grace of her dancing!” High praise, certainly! But, evidently not exaggerated, for all contemporary accounts of Grisi are equally enthusiastic.
Carlotta’s married life was not entirely happy. She had many admirers, and her husband had a temper, and though she always kept the former at a discreet distance, the latter was not so easily managed, and after a few years of marriage, which had apparently been entered upon more as a matter of mutual interest than mutual affection, she and her husband agreed to separate. Grisi left the stage in 1857 at the climax of her success, and retired to live quietly in Switzerland, where she died only a few years ago.