The days of Mrs. Jordan continued to pass on, alternately in the exercise of a lucrative profession and the domestic enjoyment of an adoring family, when circumstances (which, because mysterious to the public, are construed necessarily to imply culpability somewhere or other) occasioned a separation:—certainly an event most unexpected by those who had previously known the happy state of her connexion. I was at first ignorant of it, and it would be worse than presumption to enter into any converse on a subject at once so private, so delicate, and so interesting. Suffice it to say, that of all the accounts and surmises as to that event in which the public prints were pleased to indulge themselves, not one was true: indeed, I have good reason to believe that there was scarcely a single incident whereto that separation was publicly attributed, that had any degree of foundation whatsoever. Such circumstances should ever remain known to those only who feel the impropriety of amusing the readers at a news-room with subjects of private importance. I will, however, repeat, from authority I cannot doubt, that the separation took effect from causes no way dishonourable to either party: that it was not sought for by the one, nor necessary on the part of the other. It was too hasty to be discreet, and too much influenced by feelings of the moment to be hearty. Though not altogether unacquainted with those circumstances, I never presumed to make an observation upon the subject, save to contradict, in direct terms, statements which, at the time I heard them, I knew to be totally unfounded; and never was the British press more prostituted than in the malicious colouring given (and rather recently, too,) to the conduct of a royal personage on that occasion.
General Hawker, one of the late King’s aides-de-camp, had married Miss Jordan; and in the punctilious honour and integrity of this gentleman, every body who knew and knows him did and does rely with unmixed confidence. Such reliance His Royal Highness evinced by sending, through him, I believe, carte blanche to Mrs. Jordan, when the separation had been determined on, enabling her to dictate whatever she conceived would be fully adequate to her maintenance, without recurrence to her profession, in all the comforts to which she had been so long accustomed; and every thing she wished for was arranged to her satisfaction. Still, however, infatuated with attachment to theatrical pursuits, she continued to accept of temporary engagements to her great profit: and it will perhaps scarcely be credited, that so unsated were British audiences with Mrs. Jordan’s unrivalled performances, that even at her time of life, with certainly diminished powers and an altered person, the very last year she remained in England brought her a clear profit of near 7000l. I cannot be mistaken in this statement; for my authority (a person of truth and honour in their fullest extent) could not wilfully err on that point. The malicious representations, therefore, of her having been left straitened in pecuniary circumstances were literally fabulous; for to the very moment of her death she remained in full possession of all the means of comfort—nay, if she chose it, of luxury. Why, therefore, she emigrated, pined away, and expired in a foreign country (of whose language she was ignorant, and in whose habits she was wholly unversed), with every appearance of necessity, is also considered a mystery by those unacquainted with the cruel circumstances which led to that unfortunate catastrophe. It is not by my pen that miserable story, as I learned it, shall be told. It was a transaction wherein her royal friend had, directly or indirectly, no concern, nor did it in any way spring out of that connexion. She had, in fact, only to accuse herself of benevolence, confidence, and honour: to those demerits, and to the ingratitude of others, she fell a lingering, broken-hearted victim.
When His Royal Highness was informed of the determination on the part of her friends that Mrs. Jordan should take up a temporary residence on the continent, he insisted on her retaining the attendance of Miss K * * * *, who for many years had been attached to the establishment at Bushy, as superintendent and governess of the duke’s children. This lady, therefore, whose sincere attachment had been so long and truly proved, accompanied Mrs. Jordan (as I have understood) as her companion, and almost to the time of her death continued to administer to her comforts—endeavouring, so far as in her lay, by her society and attentions, to solace the mental misery which pressed upon her friend’s health and had extinguished her spirits. She was also accompanied to the continent by Colonel Hawker, the general’s brother: but, as she wished, during her residence in France, to be totally retired, she took no suite. She selected Boulogne as a place of convenient proximity to England; and in a cottage half a mile from that town awaited with indescribable anxiety the completion of those affairs which had occasioned her departure, rapturously anticipating the happiness of embracing her children afresh after a painful absence.
MRS. JORDAN IN FRANCE.
Decline of Mrs. Jordan’s health—Description of her cottage and grounds at Boulogne-sur-Mer—Madame Ducamp and her servant Agnes—Their account of Mrs. Jordan’s habits and manners—Removal of that lady to Versailles and subsequently to St. Cloud—Account of her illness and last moments.
The circumstances which induced Mrs. Jordan to repair to the continent were of such a nature, that the reader need not think it extraordinary that a deep impression was made upon her health; not indeed in the shape of actual disease, but by the workings of a troubled spirit, pondering and drooping over exaggerated misfortunes. Estranged, though only temporarily, from those she loved, and from that profession the resort to which had never failed to restore her animation and amuse her fancy, mental malady soon communicated its contagion to the physical organisation, and sickness began to make visible inroads on the heretofore healthy person of that lamented lady.
She established herself first at Boulogne-sur-Mer. A cottage was selected by her at Maquetra, about a quarter of a mile from the gate of the fortress. Often have I since, as if on classic ground, strolled down the little garden which had been there her greatest solace. The cottage is very small, but neat, commodious, and of cheerful aspect. A flower and fruit garden of corresponding dimensions, and a little paddock (comprising much less than half an acre) formed her demesne. In an adjoining cottage resided her old landlady, Madame Ducamp, who was in a state of competence, and altogether an original. She had married a gardener, much younger and of humbler birth than herself. I think she had been once handsome: her story I never heard fully; but it appeared that she had flourished during the Revolution. She spoke English when she pleased; and, like most Frenchwomen, when d’âge mûr, was querulous, intrusive, and curious beyond limitation, with as much professed good-nature as would serve at least fifty of our old English gentlewomen. She was not, in truth, devoid of the reality as well as the semblance of that quality: but she overacted the philanthropist, and consequently did not deceive those accustomed to look deeper than the surface. This good lady is still in statu quo, and very likely to remain so.
Under colour of taking her vacant cottage for a friend, a party of my family went to Maquetra, to learn what we could respecting Mrs. Jordan’s residence there. The old lady recollected her name, but pronounced it in a way which it was scarcely possible for us to recognise. A long conversation ensued, in some parts as interesting, and in others nearly as light as the subject could admit of.—Madame Ducamp repeated to us a hundred times, in five minutes, that she had “beaucoup, beaucoup de vénération pour cette chère, chère malheureuse dame Anglaise!” whom she assured us, with a deep sigh, was “sans doute un ange supérieur!” She was proceeding to tell us every thing she knew, or I suppose could invent, when, perceiving a child in the garden pulling the flowers, she abruptly discontinued her eulogium, and ran off to drive away the intruder; having done which, she returned to resume: but too late! in her absence her place had been fully and fairly occupied by Agnes, an ordinary French girl, Madame Ducamp’s bonne (servant of all work), whom we soon found was likely to prove a much more truth-telling person than her mistress.
Agnes informed us, with great feeling, that “the economy of that charming lady was very strict: nécessairement, je crains,” added she, with a slow movement of her head and a truly eloquent look. They had found out (she said) that their lodger had been once riche et magnifique; but when there she was very—very poor indeed! “But,” exclaimed the poor girl, her eye brightening up and her tone becoming firmer, “that could make no difference to me! si j’aime,—j’aime! J’ai servi cette pauvre dame avec le même zèle (peut-être encore plus) que si elle eut été une princesse!”
This frank-hearted display of poor Agnes’s sentiments was extremely affecting; it was, however, not in fact called for, since Mrs. Jordan might have commanded, during the whole period of her continental residence, any sums she thought proper. She had money in the bank, in the funds, and in miscellaneous property, and had just before she came over received some thousands. But she was become nearly careless as well of pecuniary as other matters, and took up a whim (for it was nothing more) to affect poverty,—thus deceiving the world, and giving, herself, a vantage-ground to the gossiping and censorious.