Personal Sketches of His Own Times, Vol. 2 (of 3)

The outlines of Mrs. Jordan’s public life during her connexion of twenty-three years with a royal personage are too well known to require recital here. But with respect to her memoirs after that period, so much falsehood and exaggeration have gone abroad – so many circumstances have been distorted, and so many invented– some of the latter possessing sufficient plausibility to deceive even the most wary – that, if not a duty, it appears at least not wrong to aid in the refutation of malicious calumnies.

I have ever felt a great abhorrence of the system of defamation on hearsay. Public men, as such, may properly be commented on. It is the birthright of the British people to speak fairly their sentiments of those who rule them; but libel on private reputation is a disgusting excrescence upon the body of political freedom, and has latterly grown to an extent so dangerous to individuals, to families, and to society in general, and so disgraceful to the press at large, that it may hereafter afford plausible pretences for curtailing the liberty of that organ – the pure and legal exercise of which is the proudest and surest guardian of British freedom. The present lax, unrestrained, and vicious exuberance of the periodical press, stamps the United Kingdom as the very focus of libel and defamation in all their ramifications. No reputation – no rank – no character, public or private, neither the living nor the dead, – can escape from its licentiousness. One comfort may be drawn from the reflection – that it can proceed no further; its next movement must be a retrograde one, and I trust the legislature will not permit this retrogression to be long deferred.

That spirit of licentiousness I have been endeavouring to stigmatise was never more clearly instanced than by the indefatigable and reiterated attempts (for several years persevered in) to disparage a royal personage, whose domestic habits, and whose wise and commendable abstinence from political party and conflicting factions, should have exempted him from the pen and from the tongue of misrepresentation, and rendered sacred a character which only requires development to stand as high in the estimation of every man who regards the general happiness and power of the empire, as that of any other member of the same illustrious house. On this point I speak not lightly: that which I state is neither the effusion of gratitude nor the meanness of adulation: the royal personage I allude to would not commend me for the one, and would despise me for the other.

I cannot conclude this digression without reprobating in no measured terms that most dangerous of all calumnious tendencies which endeavours systematically to drag down the highest ranks to the level of the lowest, and by labouring to excite a democratic contempt of royal personages, attempts gradually to sap the very foundation of constitutional allegiance: such, however, has been a practice of the day, exercised with all the rancour, but without any portion of the ability, of Junius.33

It is deeply to be lamented that this system has been exemplified by some individuals whose literary celebrity might have well afforded them the means of creditable subsistence, without endeavouring to force into circulation works of mercenary penmanship containing wanton slander of the very highest personage in the United Empire. I specify no name: I designate no facts; – if they exist not, it is unimportant; if they are notorious, the application will not be difficult. It is true that a libeller cannot fully atone – yet he may repent; and even that mortification would be a better penance to any calumniator of distinguished talent than to run the risk of being swamped between the Scylla and Charybdis of untruth and disaffection.

But to return to the accomplished subject of my sketch: – I have seen her, as she called it, on a cruise, that is, at a provincial theatre (Liverpool); having gone over once from Dublin for that purpose: she was not then in high spirits: indeed her tone, in this respect, was not uniform; in the mornings she usually seemed depressed; at noon she went to rehearsal – came home fatigued, dined at three, and then reclined in her chamber till it was time to dress for the performance. She generally went to the theatre low-spirited.

I once accompanied Mrs. Jordan to the green-room at Liverpool: Mrs. Alsop, and her old maid, assiduously attended her. She went thither languid and apparently reluctant; but in a quarter of an hour her very nature seemed to undergo a metamorphosis: the sudden change of her manner appeared to me, in fact, nearly miraculous; she walked spiritedly across the stage two or three times, as if to measure its extent; and the moment her foot touched the scenic boards her spirit seemed to be regenerated; she cheered up, hummed an air, stepped light and quick, and every symptom of depression vanished! The comic eye and cordial laugh returned to their mistress, and announced that she felt herself moving in her darling element. Her attachment to the practice of her profession, in fact, exceeded any thing I could conceive.

Mrs. Jordan delighted in talking over past events. She had strong impressions of every thing; and I could perceive was sometimes influenced rather by her feelings than her judgment.

“How happens it, Mrs. Jordan,” said I to her, when last in Dublin, “that you still exceed all your profession even in characters not so adapted to you now as when I first saw you? How do you contrive to be so buoyant – nay, so childish, on the stage, while you lose half your spirits, and degenerate into gravity, the moment you are off it?” “Habit!” replied Mrs. Jordan, “old habit! had I formerly studied my positions, weighed my words, and measured my sentences, I should have been artificial, and they might have hissed me: so, when I had got the words well by heart, I told Nature I was then at her service to do whatever she thought proper with my feet, legs, hands, arms, and features: to her I left the whole matter: I became, in fact, merely her puppet, and never interfered further myself in the business. I heard the audience laugh at me, and I laughed at myself: they laughed again, so did I: and they gave me credit for matters I knew very little about, and for which Dame Nature, not I, should have received their approbation.

“The best rule for a performer,” said Mrs. Jordan, “is to forget, if possible, that any audience is listening. We perform best of all in our closets, and next best to crowded houses. How singular the contrast! but I scarcely ever saw a good performer who was always eyeing the audience. If,” continued she, “half the gesticulation, half the wit, drollery, and anecdote which I heard among you all at Curran’s Priory, at Grattan’s cottage, and at your house, had been displayed before an audience, without your knowing that any body was listening to you, the performance would have been cheered as one of the finest pieces of comic acting possible, though, in fact, your only plot was endeavouring to get tipsy as agreeably as possible!”

This last visit of Mrs. Jordan to the Irish capital took place in the year 1809, and afforded me a full opportunity of eliciting the traits of her nature and disposition. She was greeted in that metropolis with all the acclamations that her reputation and talent so fully merited: she was well received among the best society in Dublin, whose anxiety was excited beyond measure to converse with her in private. Here, however, she disappointed all; for there was about her no display; and the animated, lively, brilliant mimic, on the boards, was in the saloon retiring, quiet, nay, almost reserved. Mrs. Jordan seldom spoke much in company, particularly in very large assemblies: but then she spoke well: she made no exertion to appear distinguished, and became more so by the absence of effort. The performer was wholly merged in the gentlewoman; and thus, although on her entrance this celebrated person failed to impress the company, she never failed to retire in possession of their respect.

On that tour she said she was very ill-treated by the managers. The understanding was, she told me, that she was to receive half the profits: yet, although the houses were invariably crowded, the receipts were inadequate to her expectations. Many of the performers who had been appointed to act with her were below mediocrity. One was forgetful – another drunk. I confess I never myself saw such a crew. All this rendered Mrs. Jordan miserable, and she sought relief in the exercise of her benevolent feelings. Among other objects of her bounty was an old actor called Barrett, who had played on the night of her début, and was then in most indigent circumstances. Him she made comfortable, and gave efficient assistance to several others whom she had known in former years.

The managers (I know not why) acted toward her not with so much respect as every body, except themselves, had shown that most amiable woman. She had found it absolutely necessary to refuse performing with one or two vulgar fellows belonging to the set whom they had selected to sustain her; and she quitted the country at length, having formed a fixed determination never to repeat any engagement with the same persons.

She had scarcely arrived in England when some of the parties, including a Mr. Dwyer, a player, quarrelled; and actions for defamation were brought forward among them. A writer of the name of Corri also published periodical libels, in one of which he paid Mrs. Jordan the compliment of associating her with the Duchess of Gordon. I and my family had likewise the honour of partaking in the abuse of that libel, and I prosecuted the printer. On the trial of the cause, one of the counsel, Mr. Thomas (now Serjeant) Gold, thought proper (as reported in the newspapers) to indulge himself in language and statements respecting Mrs. Jordan neither becoming nor true. In cross-examining me as a witness, on the prosecution of the printer, he essayed a line of interrogation highly improper as to that lady; but he took care not to go too far with me when I was present: a monosyllable or two I found quite sufficient to check the exuberance of “my learned friend;” and on this occasion he was not backward in taking a hint. The libeller was found guilty, and justly sentenced to a protracted imprisonment.

I never knew Mrs. Jordan feel so much as at the speech of Mr. Gold on that occasion: as it appeared in several newspapers, it was too bad even for a vulgar declaimer; and when Mrs. Jordan’s situation, her family, and her merits were considered, it was inexcusable. I do not state this feeling of Mrs. Jordan solely from my own impression: I received from her a letter indicative of the anguish which that speech had excited within her; and I should do injustice to her memory if (as she enjoined me to do) I did not publish in her justification an extract of that letter.

“Bushy House, Wednesday.

“My dear Sir,

“Not having the least suspicion of the business in Dublin, it shocked and grieved me very much; not only on my own account, but I regret that I should have been the involuntary cause of any thing painful to you, or to your amiable family. But of Mr. Jones I can think any thing: and I beg you will do me the justice to believe that my feelings are not selfish. Why indeed should I expect to escape their infamous calumnies? Truth, however, will force its way.* * * * * I wanted nothing from Mr. C * * *’s generosity, but I had a claim on his justice: – * * * * *

“During the two representations of ‘The Inconstant’ I represented to him the state Mr. Dwyer was in, and implored him, out of respect to the audience, if not in pity to my terrors, to change the play. As to the libel on Mr. Dwyer, charged to me by Mr. Gold, I never directly or indirectly, by words or by writing, demeaned myself by interfering in the most remote degree with so wretched a concern. I knew no editor – I read no newspapers while in Dublin. The charge is false and libellous on me, published, I presume, through Mr. Gold’s assistance. Under that view of the case, he will feel himself rather unpleasantly circumstanced should I call upon him either to prove or disavow his assertions. To be introduced any way into such a business shocks and grieves me: he might have pleaded for his companions without calumniating me: but, for the present, I shall drop an irksome subject, which has already given me more than ordinary uneasiness. * * * * * *

“Yours, &c.

“Dora Jordan.”34

I have seen this accomplished woman in the midst of one of the finest families in England, surrounded by splendour, beloved, respected, and treated with all the deference paid to a member of high life. I could perceive, indeed, no offset to her comforts and gratification. She was, in my hearing, frequently solicited to retire from her profession: she was urged to forego all further emoluments from its pursuit; and this single fact gives the contradiction direct to reports which I should feel it improper even to allude to further. Her constant reply was, that she would retire when Mrs. Siddons did; but that her losses by the fire at Covent Garden, together with other incidental outgoings, had been so extensive, as to induce her continuance of the profession to replace her finances. Her promise to retire with Mrs. Siddons, however, she did not act up to, but continued to gratify the public, with enormous profit to herself, down to the very last year she remained in England. It is matter of fact, too, (though perhaps here out of place,) that, so far from a desertion of this lady, as falsely reported, to the last hour of her life the solicitude of her royal friend was, I believe, undiminished; and though separated, for causes in no way discreditable to either, he never lost sight of her interest or her comforts. It was not the nature of His Royal Highness: – he was incapable of unkindness toward Mrs. Jordan: those reports had, indeed, no foundation, save in the vicious representation of hungry or avaricious editors, or in the scurrility of those hackneyed and indiscriminate enemies of rank and reputation, whose aspersions are equally a disgrace and an injury to the country wherein they are tolerated.

To contribute toward the prevention of all further doubt as to Mrs. Jordan’s unmixed happiness at the period of her residence at Bushy, as well as to exhibit the benevolence of her heart and the warmth of her attachments, I will introduce at this point extracts from some other letters addressed to myself: —

“Bushy.

“My dear Sir,

“I cannot resist the pleasure of informing you that your dear boy has not only passed, but passed with great credit, at the Military College: – it gives us all the highest satisfaction. My two beloved boys are now at home: – they have both gone to South-Hill to see your Edward. We shall have a full and merry house at Christmas; ’tis what the dear duke delights in: – a happier set, when altogether, I believe never yet existed. The ill-natured parts of the world never can enjoy the tranquil pleasures of domestic happiness.

“I have made two most lucrative trips since I saw you. Adkinson came to see me at Liverpool – quite as poetical as ever, and the best-natured poet I believe in the world.

“Yours, ever truly,

“Dora Jordan.”“Bushy.

“My dear Sir,

“I returned here on the 7th inst. after a very fatiguing, though very prosperous cruise of five weeks, and found all as well as I could wish. Your Edward left us this morning for Marlow: I found him improved in every thing. I never saw the duke enjoy any thing more than the poultry you sent us:35 they were delicious: he desires me to offer his best regards to yourself and your ladies. Lucy is gone on a visit to Lady De Roos.

“Yours, most truly,

“Dora Jordan.”“Bushy.

“My dear Sir,

“I have returned here: – but, alas! the happiness I had promised to myself has met a cruel check at finding the good duke very unwell. You can scarcely conceive my misery at the cause of such a disappointment: but there is every appearance of a favourable result not being very distant: ’tis his old periodical attack, but not near so severe as I have seen it. I shall not write to you as I intended till I can announce His Royal Highness’s recovery. I shall have neither head nor nerves to write, or even to think, till I am able to contribute to your pleasure, by announcing my own happiness and his recovery.

“* * * * &c.“Dora Jordan.“Sir J. Barrington,“Merrion-square, Dublin.”“Bushy.

“We have just returned from Maidenhead; and I postponed writing to you till I could give you an account of Edward, who, with Colonel Butler, dined with us there: – he looks wonderfully well, and the uniform becomes him extremely. On the ladies leaving the room, Colonel Butler gave the duke a very favourable account of him; and I trust it will give you and Lady Barrington the more satisfaction, when I assure you that it is by no means a partial account.

“I am sure you will be pleased to hear that your young friend Lucy is about to be married, much to my satisfaction, to Colonel Hawker, of the 14th dragoons: he is a most excellent man, and has a very good private property: she will make the best of wives; a better girl never yet lived: it makes me quite happy, and I intend to give her the value of 10,000l.

“* * * * &c.“Dora Jordan.”

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.