The daily union. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1845-1857, 1845-08-14

Miss Baillie is fine specimen of the old English
lady--simple, graceful, and dignifed. Her resi-
dence is always open TO literary people, especially
10 those from distant countres and not few avail
themselves of The privilege OF seeing her at home;
and one of these interviews Miss Sedgwick has
charmnsly described. Her conversational powers
are Of very high order, and, may be expected,
she is full of anecdoie respecting her literary ac-
abundance. OF Sir Walter Scott she is very fond
Of talking, Sir Walter having visited her during his
last sojourn in London. Blessed with competence,
her days slide serenely and smoothly on, in the
company OF her sister Agnes, with whom she has
lived since childhood, and to whom she is devotedly
attached.
In the next box to Joanna Bae sat William
Wordsworth; and the great poet, Of course, was an
object OF not little attention. As soon as he enter
ed the house. he was recognised and loudly cheered.
Whether he was ignorant that the compliment was
intended for him not, cannot tell but he did not
notice it. He leaned over and shook hands with
Joanna, and then sat down, removed his green spec
tacles, and, leaning his thoughful-ooking head on
his hand, gazed round the house. nodding to one
and another as he recognised them. | always
thought that Wordsworth's face had much Of sad
in its expression; and this struck very for.
chilly on the night in question. He looked more
like man borne down by some heavy grief than
profound thinker. His smile, whenever he CHANGED
to greet any acquaintance, was really solemn af-
fair and it speedily vanished, if the effort to dis
play it, II but for moment, was too painful for
long continuance.
But despite this, who could look at the bard of
Ryda and not feel u flush of pride and glow of
satisfaction that he in the presence of one of ma
ure's high prests' During the whole ofthe tragedy,
land on that first night il occupied nearly five hours
in the performance Wordsworth did not leave his
seat and frequently paid tribute of admiration to
his brother poet, by applauding portions of the
piece. Indeed, he thumped with his stick most lus-
uly and if Talfourd saw him, he must have been
Not cd hty e.frb nf ira
gedy.
In a side box of the second tier sat a lady, whose
name, at that period, scandal was extremely busy
with. Let us, however, hope that, in her case,
common Iumor was a common liar" II was the
Countess of Blessngton
And well might Lord Byron, in speaking of her,
call her "most gorgeous Lady Blessington;" for sell
dom have mortal eyes rested a more magnificent
specimen of womankind. In this instance, all the
ideas of her extraordinary beauty, which had gath
cred from published portraits, were more than real
lied, although it was evident that her ladyshp has
passed the point of perfection. She rather more
EN- bon point than expected TO have seen her; but
what in others would have been defect, seemed, in
her case, to be an added charm. As she carelessly
leaned against the pillar of her box, she realized
Byron's description--her form
Being somewhat large, and languishing, and lazy,
But Of q beauty that would drive you crazy"
| She was elegantly, and, almost as a matter Of
| course simply dressed. A black velvet dress dis
played her superb figure to the best advantage; her
hair was disposed in much the same mode as we see
in portraits Of Queen Victoria and single row Of
large pearls encircled her head; pearl necklace a
diamond stomacher, and plain gold bracelet, were
her only extra personal adornments.
1t would be absurd in me TO attempt description
of Lady Blessington's style of beauty. The en-
graved portrait Of her, by Sir Thomas Lawrence,
which every one has SEEM will convey all the infor-
nation that is necessary on this point Neither
ChalOn nOr nj W.
ing her. With respect to literary requirements,
Lady Blessington cannot be rated remarkably high.
She is lively, piquant and pleasant; and her tera-
~ sorees, despite the scandalous rumors already
alluded to, are match for Rogerss breakfasts. But
am need not detain the reader with further
particulars respecting one of whom Willis has writ
ten so much and so well.
Standing behind Lady Blessngton, and Familiarity
conversing with her, was the famous Count Dor
say,
"The glass OF fashion and the mould of FORM
Count D'Orsay is a son-in.law of the Countess;
but although separated from his wife, he is very
good terms with her mother. AS he stood, his fine
form relieved by the drapery Of the box he certainly
appeared to be of the best-lookng, and certain
y the very best dressed man ever saw. ! say one
of the best looking; for he by means carries
away the palm in this respect. He is rather efem-
mate than otherwise in face His hair is sight-so
are his whskers, which almost concealed the lower
part of his face, and meet in monstrous business,
under his well-shaped chin--and is his complex
ion. Seen in his profile his features exquistely
regular; but still, there is unmanly softness-a
prettness, which i'll becomes lord Of creation,
about it. His dress faultless in color and cut
perfectly plain and simple, and fitting to a nicely;
but l could not help smiling at the pains he must
have taken with his toilet After all, the tailor had
good deal to do with his countshp; ard if there is
one thing on earth which is more ridiculous than
another it is the man who only lives for his look
ing-glass.
But Count DOrsay is by no means branless
beau. Few men more accomplished than he.
He Is graceful sketcher, excellent musician,
and his recent statuette of the Duke of Wellington
proves him to be able artist. Alas! all these aids
could not save him from the rude grip of the sher-
III officer; for the count has been recently pfls
oner for debt, and am not that he is not yet
within four walls, furnishing "Punch" with mate
rial for the "Dossay Portraits"
Writing just now of Lord Byron, reminds me of
Lady Byron, whom saw at Clifton, about three
years ago. do not know that ought to class her
among authoresses; but she is so intimately con-
nected with literary matters, that slight sketch of
her may not be without interest.
Lady Byron frequently takes up her temporary
residence at the place have Just mentioned; and 1t
was during one of her visits that saw her, with
Lady King, (now the Countess Of Lovelace,) the
"Ada" of Lord Byron's poem, strolling through
the Geological Gardens, on Clifton Down. As
they stood before the elephant, feeding the animal
with fruit and cakes, l had good view of both.
Lady Byron's countenance was anything but pre-
possessing, and should think it never could have
been handsome. There was a shrewsh look aboutit,
and as much pride in the whole expression as
ever remember to have disfgure human
countenance. Perhaps trouble might have done its
work, and ploughed those disdairfu lines; or the
constont effort to show contempt for the worlds
opinions or conjectures may have chilled tho heart,
and so frozen up the features into responsiveness.
Whatever may have been the cause, so it was
the widow Of the great poet looked anything but
amiable.
"Ada" WINS a fine, buxom girl, with good
humored, but not over intellectual countenance. l
looked in vain for some resemblance to him who has
amused by the monkeys, who were gambong in
large cage; and left the sole daughter Off Byron's
"house and heart" screaming with delight at the
tricks Of champanzee.
Before close this paper, would say few words
respecting an English lady. whose history as a wo-
man has heen M mechanically as her careCr ns n