Horace N. Pym

"Scarcely she knew, that she was great or fair,

Or wise beyond what other women are."

—Dryden.

An oval picture that hangs opposite Sheridan's portrait is a fine presentment of the Marquis de SÉgur, by Vanloo.

The Marquis was born in 1724, and eventually became a marshal of France, and minister of war to Louis XVI. After his royal master's execution he fell into very low water, and it was only by his calm intrepidity in very trying circumstances that he escaped the guillotine. His memoirs have from time to time appeared, generally under the authority of some of his descendants. This interesting portrait belonged to the family of de SÉgur, and was parted with by the present head of the house to the late Mrs. Lyne Stephens, who gave it to us.

The history of this admirable woman is deeply interesting in every detail. She was the daughter of Colonel Duvernay, a member of a good old French family, who was ruined by the French Revolution of 1785. Born at Versailles in the year 1812, her father had the child named Yolande Marie Louise; and she was educated at the Conservatoire in Paris, where they soon discovered her wonderful talent for dancing. This art was encouraged, developed, and trained to the uttermost; and when, in due time, she appeared upon the ballet stage, she took the town by storm, and at once came to the foremost rank as the well-known Mademoiselle Duvernay, rivalling, if not excelling, the two Ellsslers, Cerito, and Taglioni.

She made wide the fame of the Cachucha dance, which was specially rearranged for her; and the world was immediately deluged with her portraits, some good, some bad, many very apocryphal, and many very indifferent.

In one of W. M. Thackeray's wonderful "Roundabout Papers," which perhaps contain some of the most beautiful work he ever gave us, he thus recalls, in a semi-playful, semi-pathetic tone, his recollections of the great danseuse. "In William IV.'s time, when I think of Duvernay dancing in as the BayadÈre, I say it was a vision of loveliness such as mortal eyes can't see nowadays. How well I remember the tune to which she used to appear! Kaled used to say to the Sultan, 'My lord, a troop of those dancing and singing girls called BayadÈres approaches,' and to the clash of cymbals and the thumping of my heart, in she used to dance! There has never been anything like it—never."

After a few years of brilliant successes she retired from the stage she had done so much to grace and dignify, and married the late Mr. Stephens Lyne Stephens, who in those days, and after his good old father's death, was considered one of the richest commoners in England.

He died in 1860, after a far too short, but intensely happy, married life; and having no children, left his widow, as far as was in his power, complete mistress of his large fortune. They were both devoted to art, and being very acute connoisseurs, had collected a superb quantity of the best pictures, the rarest old French furniture, and the finest china.

The bulk of these remarkable collections was dispersed at Christie's in a nine-days'-wonder sale in 1895, and proved the great attraction of the season, buyers from Paris, New York, Vienna, and Berlin eagerly competing with London for the best things.

Some of the more remarkable prices are here noted, as being of permanent interest to the art-loving world, and testifying how little hard times can affect the sale of a really fine and genuine collection.

As a rule, the prices obtained were very far in excess of those paid for the various objects, in many cases reaching four and five times their original cost.

A pair of Mandarin vases sold for 1070 guineas. The beautiful SÈvres oviform vase, given by Louis XV. to the Marquis de Montcalm, 1900 guineas. A pair of SÈvres blue and gold JardiniÈres, 5¼ inches high, 1900 guineas. A clock by Berthoud, 1000 guineas. A small upright Louis XVI. secretaire, 800 guineas. Another rather like it, 960 guineas. A marble bust of Louis XIV., 567 guineas. Three SÈvres oviform vases, from Lord Pembroke's collection, 5000 guineas. A single oviform SÈvres vase, 760 guineas. A pair of SÈvres vases, 1050 guineas. A very beautiful Sedan chair, in Italian work of the sixteenth century, 600 guineas. A clock by Causard, 720 guineas. A Louis XV. upright secretaire, 1320 guineas. "Dogs and Gamekeeper," painted by Troyon, 2850 guineas. "The Infanta," a full-length portrait by Velasquez, 4300 guineas. A bust of the Infanta, also by Velasquez, 770 guineas. "Faith presenting the Eucharist," a splendid work by Murillo, 2350 guineas. "The Prince of Orange Hunting," by Cuyp, 2000 guineas. "The Village Inn," by Van Ostade, 1660 guineas. A fine specimen of Terburg's work, 1950 guineas. A portrait by Madame VigÉe le Brun, 2250 guineas. A lovely portrait by Nattier, 3900 guineas. Watteau's celebrated picture of "La Gamme d'Amour," 3350 guineas. A pair of small Lancret's Illustrations to La Fontaine brought respectively 1300 guineas and 1050 guineas. Drouais' superb portrait of Madame du Barry, 690 guineas; and a small head of a girl by Greuze sold for 710 guineas.

Small pieces of china of no remarkable merit, but bearing a greatly enhanced value from belonging to this celebrated collection, obtained wonderful prices. For example:—

A Sang-de Boeuf Crackle vase, 12½ inches high, 280 guineas. A pair of china Kylins, 360 guineas. A circular Pesaro dish, 155 guineas. A pair of SÈvres dark blue oviform vases, 1000 guineas. Three SÈvres vases, 1520 guineas. Two small panels of old French tapestry, 285 guineas. Another pair, 710 guineas. A circular SÈvres bowl, 13 inches in diameter, 300 guineas.

The ormolu ornaments of the time of Louis XIV. brought great sums; for instance—

An ormolu inkstand sold for 72 guineas. A pair of wall lights, 102 guineas. A pair of ormolu candlesticks, 400 guineas. Another pair, 500 guineas. A pair of ormolu andirons, 220 guineas.

Little tables of Louis XV. period also sold amazingly.

An oblong one, 21½ inches wide, 285 guineas. An upright secretaire, 580 guineas. A small Louis XVI. chest of drawers, 315 guineas. A pair of Louis XVI. mahogany cabinets, 950 guineas. A pair of Louis XVI. bronze candelabra brought 525 guineas; and an ebony cabinet of the same time fetched the extraordinary price of 1700 guineas; and a little Louis XV. gold chatelaine sold for 300 guineas.

The grand total obtained by this remarkable sale, together with some of the plate and jewels, amounted to £158,000!

For thirty-four years, as a widow, Mrs. Lyne Stephens administered, with the utmost wisdom and the broadest generosity, the large trust thus placed in her most capable hands. Building and restoring churches for both creeds (she being Catholic and her late husband Protestant); endowing needy young couples whom she considered had some claim upon her, if only as friends; further adding to and completing her art collections, and finishing and beautifying her different homes in Norfolk, Paris, and Roehampton.

Generous to the fullest degree, she would warmly resent the least attempt to impose upon her. An amusing instance of this occurred many years ago, when one of her husband's relations, considering he had some extraordinary claim upon the widow's generosity, again and again pressed her for large benevolences, which for a season he obtained. Getting tired of his importunity, she at last declined to render further help, and received in reply a very abusive letter from the claimant, which wound up by stating that if the desired assistance were not forthcoming by a certain date, the applicant would set up a fruit-stall in front of her then town-house in Piccadilly, and so shame her into compliance with his request. She immediately wrote him a pretty little letter in reply, saying, "That it was with sincere pleasure she had heard of her correspondent's intention of pursuing for the first time an honest calling whereby to earn his bread, and that if his oranges were good, she had given orders that they should be bought for her servants' hall!"

During the Franco-German war of 1870 she remained in Paris in her beautiful home in the Faubourg-Saint-HonorÉ, and would daily sally forth to help the sufferings which the people in Paris were undergoing. No one will ever know the vast extent of the sacrifice she then made. Her men-servants had all left to fight for their country, and she was alone in the big house, with only two or three maids to accompany her. During the Commune she continued her daily walks abroad, and was always recognised by the mob as a good Frenchwoman, doing her utmost for the needs of the very poor. Her friend, the late Sir Richard Wallace, who was also in Paris during these troubles, well earned his baronetcy by his care of the poor English shut up in the city during the siege; but although Mrs. Lyne Stephens' charity was quite as wide and generous as his, she never received, nor did she expect or desire it, one word of acknowledgment or thanks from any of the powers that were.

She died at Lynford, from the result of a fall on a parquet floor, on the 2nd September 1894, aged 82, full of physical vigour and intellectual brightness, and still remarkable for her personal beauty; finding life to the last full of many interests, but impressed by the sadness of having outlived nearly all her early friends and contemporaries.

She lingered nearly three weeks after the actual fall, during which her affectionate gratitude to all who watched and tended her, her bright recognition when faces she loved came near, her quick response to all that was said and done, were beautiful and touching to see, and very sweet to remember. Her last words to the writer of these lines when he bade her farewell were, "My fondest love to my beloved Julian;" our invalid son at Foxwold, for whom she always evinced the deepest affection and sympathy.

In her funeral sermon, preached by Canon Scott, himself an intimate friend, in the beautiful church she had built for Cambridge, to a crowded and deeply sympathetic audience, he eloquently observed: "Greatly indeed was she indebted to God; richly had she been endowed with gifts of every kind; of natural character, of special intelligence, of winning attractiveness, which compelled homage from all who came under the charm of her influence; with the result of widespread renown and unbounded wealth.... Therefore it was that the blessing of God came in another form—by the discipline of suffering and trial. There was the trial of loneliness. Soon bereft, as she was, of her husband, of whose affection we may judge by the way in which he had laid all he possessed at her feet; French and Catholic, living amongst those who were not of her faith or nation, though enjoying their devoted friendship. With advancing years, deprived by death even of those intimate friends, she was lonely in a sense throughout her life.... Nor must it be omitted that her great gift to Cambridge was not merely an easy one out of superfluous wealth, but that it involved some personal sacrifice. Friends of late had missed the sight of costly jewels, which for years had formed a part of her personal adornment. What had become of a necklace of rarest pearls, now no longer worn?—They had been sacrificed for the erection of this very church."

Again, in a Pastoral Letter by the Roman Catholic Bishop of Northampton to his flock, dated the 28th of November 1894, he says: "We take occasion of this our Advent pastoral, to commend to your prayers the soul of one who has recently passed away, Mrs. Lyne Stephens. Her innumerable works of religion and charity during her life, force us to acknowledge our indebtedness to her; she built at her sole cost the churches of Lynford, Shefford, and Cambridge, and she gave a large donation for the church at Wellingborough. It was she who gave the presbytery and the endowment of Lynford, the rectory at Cambridge, and our own residence at Northampton. By a large donation she greatly helped the new episcopal income fund, and she was generous to the Holy Father on the occasion of his first jubilee. Our indebtedness was increased by her bequests, one to ourselves as the Bishop, one for the maintenance of the fabric of the Cambridge Church, another for the Boy's Home at Shefford, and a fourth to the Clergy Fund of this Diocese. Her name has been inscribed in our Liber VitÆ, among the great benefactors whether living or dead, and for these we constantly offer up prayers that God may bless their good estate in life, and after death receive them to their reward."

To the inmates of Foxwold she was for nearly a quarter of a century a true and loving friend, paying them frequent little visits, and entering with the deepest sympathy into the lives of those who also loved her very dearly.

The house bears, through her generosity, many marks of her exquisite taste and broad bounty, and her memory will always be fragrant and beautiful to those who knew her.

There are three portraits of her at Roehampton. The first, as a most winsome, lovely girl, drawn life-size by a great pastellist in the reign of Louis Philippe; the second, as a handsome matron, in the happy years of her all too short married life; and the last, by Carolus Duran, was painted in Paris in 1888. This has been charmingly engraved, and represents her as a most lovely old lady, with abundant iron-grey hair and large violet eyes, very wide apart. She was intellectually as well as physically one of the strongest women, and she never had a day's illness, until her fatal accident, in her life. Her conversation and power of repartee was extremely clever and brilliant. A shrewd observer of character, she rarely made a mistake in her first estimate of people, and her sometimes adverse judgments, which at first sight appeared harsh, were invariably justified by the history of after-events.

Her charity was illimitable, and was always, as far as possible, concealed. A simple-lived, brave, warm-hearted, generous woman, her death has created a peculiar void, which will not in our time be again filled:—