It was while on their first visit to Genoa, three years before this, that news had reached Blessington of the death at the age of ten of his son and heir, Lord Mountjoy. Of this unhappy event one of the results was that Blessington was able to make such disposition of his property as he considered right and proper, or at any rate to a certain and very considerable extent. Of this freedom he availed himself in a manner that proves either a lack of common understanding or actual inhumanity. Included in the arrangements he made was the marriage to D’Orsay of one of his daughters, this apparently in fulfilment of his promise to see to it that D’Orsay’s future was provided for. Not content that the young Frenchman should be his wife’s lover he decided to make him also his daughter’s husband. Such a story told as fiction would be incredible.
Three months after his son’s death, Blessington signed a codicil to his will, which ran thus:—
“Having had the misfortune to lose my beloved son, Luke Wellington, 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 (subject, however, to the annuity of three thousand per annum, which sum is to include the settlement of one thousand per annum to my wife, Margaret, Countess of Blesinton (sic) …). I make also the said Alfred d’Orsay sole guardian of my son Charles John, and my sister, Harriet Gardiner, guardian of my daughters, until they, the daughters, arrive at the age of sixteen, at which age I consider they will be marriageable.… (Signed) Blesinton.”
In August (1823) this amazing plan was more securely fixed by the making of a will. By this document D’Orsay was appointed one of three executors, each of whom received £1000; to Lady Blessington was allotted £2000 British, per annum, and all her own jewels. Then we must quote in full:—“I give to my daughter, Harriet Anne Jane Frances, commonly called Lady Harriet, born at my house in Seymour Place, London, on or about the 3rd day of August 1812, all my estates in the county and city of Dublin, subject to the following charge. Provided she intermarry with my friend, and intended son-in-law, Alfred d’Orsay, I bequeath her the sum of ten thousand pounds only. I give to my daughter, Emily Rosalie Hamilton, generally called Lady Mary Gardiner, born in Manchester Square, on the 24th of June 1811, whom I now acknowledge and adopt as my daughter, the sum of twenty thousand pounds.
“In case the said Alfred d’Orsay intermarries with the said Emily, otherwise Mary Gardiner, I bequeath to her my estates in the county and city of Dublin.…” It did not matter upon which daughter the gallant and chivalrous D’Orsay fixed his fancy; in either case he was to be well rewarded. D’Orsay knew that his future was assured.
In fact, D’Orsay was handsomely dowered! How joyous must have been the meeting between him and his sister at Pisa in 1826. Lady Blessington has left a pleasant picture of it in her Journal:—
“Pisa.—Arrived here yesterday, and found the Duc and Duchesse de Guiche (Ida d’Orsay) with their beautiful children, established in the Casa Chiarabati, on the south side of the Lung’ Arno. The Duchesse is one of the most striking-looking women I ever beheld; and though in very delicate health, her beauty is unimpaired. Tall and slight, her figure is finely proportioned, and her air remarkably noble and graceful. Her features are regular, her complexion dazzlingly fair, her countenance full of intelligence, softened by a feminine sweetness that gives it a peculiar attraction, and her limbs are so small and symmetrical, as to furnish an instance of Byron’s favourite hypothesis, that delicately formed hands and feet were infallible indications of noble birth. But had the Duchesse de Guiche no other charm than her hair, that would constitute an irresistible one. Never did I see such a profusion, nor of so beautiful a colour and texture. When to those exterior attractions are added manners graceful and dignified, conversation witty and full of intelligence, joined to extreme gentleness, it cannot be wondered at that the Duchesse de Guiche is considered one of the most lovely and fascinating women of her day. It is a pleasing picture to see this fair young creature, for she is still in the bloom of youth, surrounded by her three beautiful boys, and holding in her arms a female infant strongly resembling her. One forgets la grande dame occupying her tabouret at Court, ‘the observed of all observers,’ in the interest excited by a fond young mother in the domestic circle, thinking only of the dear objects around her.”
Who better could appreciate this happy scene than Lady Blessington, with all her dear objects around her: her sister, her husband, her dear friend?
One more Pisan scene is worth quoting:—
“March.—Mr Wilkie,[4] our celebrated painter, has come to spend a few days with us. He enjoys Italy very much, and his health is, I am happy to say, much improved. He was present, last evening, at a concert at the Duchesse de Guiche’s, where a delicate compliment was offered to her, the musicians having surprised her with an elegantly turned song, addressed to her, and very well sung; copies of which were presented to each of the party, printed on paper couleur de rose, and richly embossed. This galanterie originated with half a dozen of the most distinguished of the Pisans, and the effect was excellent, owing to the poetic merit of the verses, the good music to which they were wedded, and the unaffected surprise of the fair object to whom they were addressed. Mr Wilkie seemed very much pleased at the scene, and much struck with the courtly style of beauty of our hostess.”