Everybody knows the melancholy end of that nobleman,
which befell at Naples two months after the French
Revolution of 1830; when the Most Honourable George
Gustavus, Marquis of Steyne, Earl of Gaunt and of
Gaunt Castle, in the Peerage of Ireland, Viscount Hellborough,
Baron Pitchley and Grillsby, a Knight of the Most
Noble Order of the Garter, of the Golden Fleece of
Spain, of the Russian Order of Saint Nicholas of the
First Class, of the Turkish Order of the Crescent,
First Lord of the Powder Closet and Groom of the Back
Stairs, Colonel of the Gaunt or Regent’s Own
Regiment of Militia, a Trustee of the British Museum,
an Elder Brother of the Trinity House, a Governor
of the White Friars, and D.C.L.—died after
a series of fits brought on, as the papers said, by
the shock occasioned to his lordship’s sensibilities
by the downfall of the ancient French monarchy.
An eloquent catalogue appeared in a weekly print,
describing his virtues, his magnificence, his talents,
and his good actions. His sensibility, his attachment
to the illustrious House of Bourbon, with which he
claimed an alliance, were such that he could not survive
the misfortunes of his august kinsmen. His body
was buried at Naples, and his heart—that
heart which always beat with every generous and noble
emotion was brought back to Castle Gaunt in a silver
urn. “In him,” Mr. Wagg said, “the
poor and the Fine Arts have lost a beneficent patron,
society one of its most brilliant ornaments, and England
one of her loftiest patriots and statesmen,”
&c., &c.
His will was a good deal disputed, and an attempt
was made to force from Madame de Belladonna the celebrated
jewel called the “Jew’s-eye” diamond,
which his lordship always wore on his forefinger, and
which it was said that she removed from it after his
lamented demise. But his confidential friend
and attendant, Monsieur Fiche proved that the ring
had been presented to the said Madame de Belladonna
two days before the Marquis’s death, as were
the bank-notes, jewels, Neapolitan and French bonds,
&c., found in his lordship’s secretaire and
claimed by his heirs from that injured woman.
CHAPTER LXV
Full of Business and Pleasure
The day after the meeting at the play-table, Jos had
himself arrayed with unusual care and splendour, and
without thinking it necessary to say a word to any
member of his family regarding the occurrences of
the previous night, or asking for their company in
his walk, he sallied forth at an early hour, and was
presently seen making inquiries at the door of the
Elephant Hotel. In consequence of the fetes
the house was full of company, the tables in the street
were already surrounded by persons smoking and drinking
the national small-beer, the public rooms were in
a cloud of smoke, and Mr. Jos having, in his pompous
way, and with his clumsy German, made inquiries for
the person of whom he was in search, was directed to
