As is often the case with this esoteric, it is not uncommon for me to purchase a book on a whim, then leave it untouched for years, if not a decade or two. A case in point, would be; Holland House, Volumes I & II; by Princess Marie Liechtenstein.
It is not lost me on the particular moment that I purchased this set of books showcasing the former cultural manse of the celebrated and eccentric Fox family. It was in the summer of 1985, I was on vacation; in the month of July.
Barely out of college, I found no particular need to hurry an end to my studious life and was taking my time in finding something permanent to settle into career wise. In the meantime, I traveled around the country on a whim, searching for books and seeing the sights. As was and is still natural for me, this trip was extemporaneous in nature. No specific itinerary or timeline. It was to be a summer of discovery.
The week following the Fourth of July that year; I was in York , Maine York is a town in York County , Maine York was and still is a well-known summer resort and like Bar Harbor and Newport , Rhode Island , York York Village
During the summer months, tourists (chiefly families) throng Short Sands Beach , which is in the district of York Beach itself, as well as Long Sands Beach , the towns longest with more than a mile of sand stretching between York Beach and York Harbor York Beach
Many spots throughout ‘The York’s’ have picturesque views of the famous Cape Neddick Light at Nubble Rock, which has figured in both artists' work and souvenirs of the Maine coast. Visible in clear weather is the 133 foot (40 meter) tall Boon Island Light on Boon Island , located 6.2 miles (10 kilometers) off York York Beach
When not seeing the sites, I took a few detours into the shops, primarily antique book shops. One in particular caught not only my eye, but my fancy as well. It was small, located in an old clapboard cottage that had clearly seen better days. Situated behind a poorly maintained picket fence, it would have been anyone’s best guess as to when it had last been whitewashed. Yet it glistened in the sun, in all likelihood from generations of accumulated brine. The shutters on the two front windows had once been blue, but were now faded; with light greenish dappled streaks, running in varied natural stripes down the uneven boards, warped and unintentionally sanded by Mother Natures’ latent forces. There was no signage on the cottage that would have betrayed the fact that its contents were books, even though they were from floor to ceiling. However, a few sun washed volumes stood awkwardly in the windows and signaled to this esoteric that a true find had been discovered.
Upon crossing the threshold it felt like I was transported back into another time. The interior of the cottage bore almost a mirror relation to the exterior. The fixtures, furnishings and finishes would relate to what we now refer to as ‘shabby chic!’ Rough pine floors, once stained a dark brown, bore signs of distress. The predominate colors of decoration were marine inspired shades of blue, green and gray, all with the muted patina of age. Faded, but brilliantly so!
The entire cottage was full of old books! Dusty volumes; all heavily antiqued and due to probably having not been ‘cracked’ in years to be read, lazed in wait for someone to find them appealing once again.
The music that drifted through the various time worn rooms was soft and dreamy. If memory serves, most of the chosen musicians to lull any potential buyers into buying from the collection were chosen from the Baroque era.
For me, the most delightful surprise was the proprietress! I met her as she suddenly came silently around a corner to greet me, startling me as she did so. In a rather per functionary manner she introduced herself as Charlotte Saxelbye! A bit weather beaten at the corners in appearance, she must have been in her late seventies, but clearly sharp as a tack mentally.
Close cropped snow white hair like hoar frost, a large Roman nose that would have been at home on any ancient marble bust; coal black eyebrows forming a hairy mantle above piercing blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing. Her dress was basic, old khakis, blue twill shirt, no shoes to speak of, as she was barefooted. By far her best feature and ultimately my favorite; was the rimless pince-nez with the golden nose bridge piece, tucked securely in place, with a trailing black ribbon.
At the time, I would have ventured a guess that she would have been in her element with the likes of Gertrude Stein, Alice B. Toklas, Una Troubridge and Marguerite ‘John’ Radclyffe-Hall. Mind you, not so much as an ex-pat but more so a woman of Sapphic tendencies. Needless to say she bore all the hallmarks of a ‘character’ and as I was soon to find out, she did not let me down on this point.
Her speech was clear and precise. Clipped with just a bit of a Bostonian accent! Proper with a dash of vinegar! Looking me squarely in the eye she predicated with pinpoint accuracy that I was a man who loved history and the classics, the more obscure the ‘better’ she finished with a flourish, the better sounding to my ear like ‘buttah!’ Once she had determined my interests, mainly without me voicing a thing, she told me that she had some special things that I might like.
Taking me by the hand she led me to the very back of the cottage to a small room in which resided an old cast iron stove. No longer used for purposes of heat, it now stood starkly cold, serving as a make-do book stand. With finger to silent lips, as if to guide her in her search, she poured over the various volumes with her eyes until she found two bright blue tomes stacked haphazardly under other long forgotten titles. ‘Right-ho, what do you think of these?’
Stooping down, I picked up the two books, blew the dust off of them, and peered at the titles. Holland
Noticing my reticence, she launched into a full scale literary ‘amuse-bouche’ about the subject matter of the books and their authoress. Once finished, it did not take her long to note by my facial countenance that she had finally struck home with the tempting dissertation on what awaited me within the gilt edged pages.
To further entice me to the point of no return, she pointed out to me that the pages had not even been cut, clearly an indication that the book had waited over a hundred years for me to possess it. Hinting to me rather cunningly that the set had been keeping itself fresh and unsoiled by the hands of others! Always an attractive facet to this esoteric! The clincher came when she pointed out that the late Princess had personally autographed this particular set to some long forgotten friend or admirer.
Before I knew what hit me I was spending my last few precious ducats on these ancient books, or so they felt to me, and she ushered me out the door.
Interestingly enough, Miss Saxelbye was the cause of me staying in York
Sadly, my maudlin diatribe on meeting her must cease, as so often happens with me, I am far off beam to course with the original vein of this posting. However, I promise to reintroduce her in a later post entirely devoted to her.
By the end of that summer, the Holland House books were shipped back home to my general collection, and in some ways continued an existence not unlike before while in Charlotte
In March of this year, I was bored with all the reading possibilities that presented themselves, no volume in essence could coax me into the warm and entertaining ‘verbal embrace’ that reading often affords this persnickety esoteric. Then while perusing my shelves I sighted the blue volumes of the Holland House memoires. My mind clicked, the invisible hook was cast, and before I knew it, I was caught as any fish on the line. Over the span of twenty-five years Charlotte
Having kept her and the books at bay for so long, I felt I owed her and myself the delight of reliving our acquaintance and learning about a subject I only knew slightly.
In retrospect, I am so glad that everything fell into place that day for me to reawaken such a wonderful experience from a long past summer and in so doing exposed me to an informative read, and set me on a course to learn about a woman of some mystery, especially then, and in some cases even now!
To wrap up this journey down a dusty path, I must clarify how this esoteric function’s when it comes to reading what I do and the reasons why tomes linger on shelves for what must seem like minor eternities.
Admittedly my esoteric nature is all shot thru with eccentricities, something I feel is required to undertake a full-on espousal of such a mindset, but it must be inherent and not forced!
This is readily noticeable in my pursuit of books. It might sound strange, but books ‘speak’ to me. Granted not in an audible way, but they do so figuratively. In some cases, the enticement is not aggressively based; it is subtle, like a nuance! I am invisibly drawn to them, often subject matter I would never have found interesting in the past, then suddenly there I am, entrapped within the pages.
However, the caveat to all of this is, that no matter how hard I try or the inclination to do so, I cannot spend my days luxuriating around the clock with a book in hand, succoring my thirst for knowledge and feeding my esoteric soul.
Regrettably, books once at the top of my reading list, often lose their place of prominence and are jostled further down the ranks; as different more engaging titles take their place. Additionally, I truly believe that there is a right time and place for me to read a particular book. Whether it is today, tomorrow, next month for ten years from now, I am not much bothered, it will happen in due course.
That being said, the planets, sun, moon and stars all aligned in March 2011, twenty-six years after their original purchase, the time arrived for the Holland House set.
For your esoteric reading pleasure I have included some fodder below in relation to a little ‘esoteric digging’ for the ‘little gray cells!’
The best part of the whole experience was that in reading the books; it set me back on course with learning more about the mysterious Miss Mary Fox.
Holland House
(Volumes I & II)
Princess Marie Liechtenstein
London Macmillan and Co. 1874
From the card enclosed:
A detailed history of Holland House (built c.1605 for Sir Walter Cope, father-in-law of Henry Rich, first earl of Holland
NEW PUBLICATIONS
Princess Marie Liechtenstein
The New York Times
December 15, 1873
Holland House has so long been associated with all that is delicate and generous in hospitality to the representatives of literature; its rooms have heard the voices, and its floors have felt the tread of so many authors, artists, statesmen, and wits that propriety of writing its history is obvious. Yet the task is in itself one of no little difficulty. Could the walls rehearse the brilliant encounters of wit which they have heard, volumes of better things than have ever been written would doubtless be the result, but this would be as practicable as to photograph the beams of sunlight which have glanced through these same halls during the last century or two. We must, of course, content ourselves with the record of the substantial rather than of the evanescent, so far as this notable mansion is concerned, and even then the question as to who shall place the facts on record is one of no little delicacy and difficulty. Those who have shared in the hospitalities of Holland House can describe the notabilities whom they have themselves met there, but to undertake to do more would savor of unwarranted intrusion. Then the hosts, of course, could not record the history of their mansion without seeming to celebrate their own hospitalities. As the adopted daughter of Lady Holland, the Princess Marie Liechtenstein was the one of all others to act as the chronicler of Holland House, and these superb volumes give satisfactory evidence of the veneration for its antiquity, and of the loving pride in its more recent past, which she has brought to the performance of a task that seems to have been purposely left undone until she could assume and accomplish it.
The painstaking care displayed in the illustration and artistic ornamentation of these volumes at once strikes the eye, and practically disarms criticism. There are steel, engravings of the fourth Lord Holland, two of his wife, Mary Augusta, one of Elizabeth (Lady Holland) and one of Miss Fox in her childhood. There are besides, lithographic copies of autographs, more or less interesting, of Hogarth, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Addison , and other notabilities whose names are rightfully associated with Holland House. Numerous wood-cuts reproduce, evidently with the most accurate fidelity, the mansion itself, every object of interest in its immediate neighborhood, and each of its rooms to which any public interest attaches. The Florentine knocker, the china fish from the staircase, a design from the sword of prudence, and the walking stick of C. J. Fox; a group of Sèvres china, a palette, chimney pieces, nursery emblems, panels, autographs, and numerous objects of vertu are worked into exquisitely tasteful head and tail pieces, so that there is hardly a page of the volumes but contains something strikingly characteristic of Holland House, and altogether unique. The exquisite artistic sense displayed in all these trifling details accords most happily with the literary atmosphere pervading the volumes, and the two together go far to atone for the somewhat unsatisfactory character of the letter press. It is evident that the Princess Marie Liechtenstein is far being a practiced writer, and the difficulties with which she had to contend are apparent at a glance. The earlier history of Holland House is of little interest, save as it is associated with the family in whose possession it has so long remained, and some of those who held it as it happens, spent but little time there. Undue space is now and then given to the strictly family history. The later records of the house are too intimately associated with living persons to make it politic to connect it too closely with them, and in referring to the celebrities now dead who have enjoyed its hospitalities repetition of incidents, many of which have long been familiar, is, of course, unavoidable. The description of the architectural arrangements of the building requires a skillful interweaving of reminiscence to which the author has not been fully equal, in order to avoid tediousness. In spite of all these drawbacks, as this is the only account of Holland
Visitors to London, whose veneration for the localities inseparably connected with the literary history of the mother country has led them to seek out Holland house, know that it is situated on the north side of Kensington Road, at the end of Phillimore place. About eighty acres of the estate on which it stands are not built upon, and fields still adjoin the park so effectively that although London Elizabeth Spain and had them sown in this very garden, whence they spread over the whole of England London
‘The beautiful Lady Diana Rich, daughter to the Earl of Holland, as she was walking in her father’s garden at Kensington, to take the fresh air before dinner, about eleven a clock, being then very well met with her own apparition, habit and everything, as in a looking-glass. About a month after, she died of small-pox. And ‘tis said that her sister, the Lady Isabella (Thinne) saw the like of herself also before she died. This account I had from a person of honor.’
A third sister, Mary, was married to the first Earl of Breadalbane, and it has been recorded that she also, not long after her marriage, had some such warning of her approaching dissolution. ‘And so,’ adds the historian of Holland House, ‘the old habitation has remained. And who would wish to remove it? Belonging to past times, it should be respected. But whether we respect tradition or not, it is a received fact that whenever the mistress of Holland House meets herself, death is hovering above her.’
Another of the ‘institutions’ of this famous mansion is ‘the Holland House gun fire’ at 11 P.M. One version of its origin is that it was a custom brought from Spain
These reminiscences naturally carry us back to the earlier history of Holland House, upon some of the points of which we shall briefly touch. It may be accepted as an indication of the thoroughness with which the Princess Liechtenstein treats her theme, that she makes the fact of Holland House being located in Kensington a pretext for tracing the history of that parish back even beyond the time of William the Conqueror. It is enough for our purpose to state that Holland House was originally Cope Castle England , and his tragic death – for he was beheaded in Palace Yard, Westminster , March 9, 1618/9, after imprisonment as a Royalist in Warwick Castle Addison . Johnson, in noting this event, tells us that ‘Addison’s advances at first were certainly timorous, but grew bolder as his reputation and influence increased, till at last the lady was persuaded to marry him on terms much like those on which a Turkish princess is espoused, to whom the Sultan is reported to pronounce, ‘Daughter, I give thee this man for thy slave.’ As regards the life the distinguished couple led it is enough to know that there was too much truth in the assertion that ‘Holland House, although a large house, could not contain Mr. Addison, the Countess of Warwick, and one guest, in peace.’ It is probable, the Princess Liechtenstein tells us, that the ill-terms on which they lived hastened the end of Addison, who died of asthma and dropsy at Holland House on the 17th of June, 1719. That his attachment to the Countess had yet entirely passed away may be inferred from the fact that he left her all his property.
In 1749, Holland House was let on lease to Henry Fox, first Lord Holland, who bought it in 1767. From about the time of the Restoration until the middle of the eighteenth century, Holland House was occupied by tenants, some of whom gave it as much lustre as did it owners. William Penn, Sir John Chardin, the Persian traveler; Shippen, the Jacobite, celebrated by Pope; Lechmere, the eminent Whig lawyer; while in 1689, William III, hesitated between it and the house of the Earl of Nottingham, which he finally selected as the royal residence. Henry Fox, whom we have named above as the purchaser of Holland House was born in 1705, and was educated at Eton with Pitt, afterward Earl of Chatham. He would have occupied a more prominent place in the political history of Great Britain Lyons Holland
That Selwyn himself was also capable of similar ill-timed levity, is evident from the story that, when he was bantered by some ladies on his want of feeling in going to see Lord Lovat’s head cut off, he said: ‘Why, I made amends by going to the undertaker’s to see it sewn on again.’
Stephen, the successor to the title and estates of the first Lord Holland only survived his father six months, but he left behind him the reputation of a good natured and brilliant man, contradictory as the qualities may seem. During the minority of his son, Henry Richard, born in 1773, the fruit of his marriage with Lady Mary Fitzpatrick, daughter of John, first Earl of Upper Ossory , Holland House, was let, and during this period its history, so far as it possesses any literary interest, is a blank. But this interval covered an important part of the career of the most able, eloquent, and famous of the Fox family – Charles James, the younger brother of Stephen. The chief reminiscence connecting him with Holland House is that of the wall which was condemned, and the demolition of which his father promised him he should witness. By some accident, however, the boy was not present when the wall was knocked down, but Lord Holland, acting up to the principle of keeping faith even with a child, had the wall built up again that it might be demolished before his son’s eyes. There was not this excuse, however, for the indulgent parent, when, on another occasion, the enfant terrible, wished to break a watch. ‘Well!’ said the father, ‘if you must, I suppose you must.’ Naturally, a child thus spoiled by his father did not exhibit much deference to his mother. One day he heard her make a mistake in Roman history, and asking her with utter contempt what she knew about the Romans, proceeded to explain how she was wrong. Before he was fourteen Lord Holland took him to Paris and Spa, and there was sown the seeds of his future love for gambling, a passion which married his whole life and made it, in this aspect at least, a solemn warning to parents who do not watch with sufficient care the early years of their children. Shortly before he died, we are told ‘he went to Holland House and walked over all the grounds, looking tenderly at each familiar spot, as if he wished to carry through the gates of death the impression engraved on his soul during his childhood. His wonderfully brilliant career cast dazzling lustre upon the family whose name he bore, but even this is insufficient warrant for the large space allotted to him in this history of Holland House, with which he had so little to do. His fame, however, overshadows that of his nephew, Henry Richard, the third Lord Holland, who was a debater of wonderful freshness, perception, force and eloquence, and a statesman of marked ability and of thorough consistency. He was, moreover, passionately fond of literature, and his culture was characterized by such diversity, breadth, and depth that he was a worthy host of the most brilliant array of authors, statesmen, and wits known to any period of English history. Macaulay, Sheridan, four great Lord Chancellors – Thurlow, Eldon, Brougham, and Lyndhurst – Count Rumford, Grattan, Curran, our own Irving, the two Humboldts, Talleyrand, Canova, Metternich, Tom Moore, Georgiana, the beautiful Duchess of Devonshire, Sydney Smith, Mme de Staël, are but a few among the more prominent of those who made Holland House at this period the most notable and brilliant intellectual centre England has ever known.
The benevolence, courtesy, and cordial affability which made Lord Holland, a most popular host, were offset but not marred by the waywardness, the cleverness, and beauty of Lady Holland, whose habit of contradiction doubtless provoked many of the brilliant repartees which have become part of the records of this historic mansion. Neither the station nor fame of her guests secured their immunity in her occasional imperious words. In the midst of Macaulay’s interesting anecdotes she would tap on the table with her fan and say: ‘Now Macaulay, we have had enough of this; give us something else.’ Sydney Smith, it is of record, occasionally revolted, under her commands. She once said to him, ‘Sydney
Almost a volume might be compiled of the repartees and encounters of wit which the rooms of Holland House have heard, and Princess Marie Liechtenstein has here collated many of the most notable, but some of these which we have already quoted have the odor of antiquity about them, and we must refrain.
It would be interesting to follow the historian through the later records of Holland House, but onward from the days to which we have brought this sketch its intellectual glories have paled, not, let us say in all frankness, because its hospitalities have abated, but for the more satisfactory reason that during the last quarter of a century, at least, the giants who sought its halls in their hours of relaxation have lacked successors who could maintain the reputation of those who had gone before them. But if, as Macaulay has imagined, Holland House may someday disappear beneath the railways and squares which have so steadily been stretching out toward it and surrounding it, there is satisfaction in the knowledge that it history has been fully and faithfully recorded, and that every part and point of the famous mansion has been so carefully and accurately preserved in the exquisitely finished engravings which illustrate these volumes, that its memory can never by any possibility grow dim.
Princess Marie Liechtenstein
Two Volumes
Macmillan & Co. 1874
With Five Steel Engravings by C. A. Jeens, after Paintings by Watts and other Celebrated Artists, and Numerous illustrations drawn by Professor P. H. Delamotte and engraved on Wood by J. D. Cooper, W. Palmer, and Jewitt & Co., Lon., 1873, a vols, 8vo; another edition containing in addition the above about forty illustrations by the Woodbury Type Process, and India Proofs of the Steel Engravings, 2 vols. Med, 4to.
‘The historical part of this book is mere cram, poorly executed, and interspersed, we cannot say relieved, by some pointless attempts at wit and vapid meditations. The paper and print are superfine and the engravings and wood-cuts exquisite.’ Sat. Rev. XXXVI, 636.
The Nation
December 18, 1873
There are probably few visitors to London Kensington Road London London Lake poets. In fact, no period of English history has been marked by so much social and literary brilliance. London
The Princess Marie Liechtenstein, an adopted daughter of the present Lady Holland, who was brought up in Holland House, and was recently married to a younger son of the great Austrian house of Liechtenstein England
Few of the Princess Marie’s anecdotes are new; but one or two will perhaps bear quoting. Mackintosh annoyed old Dr. Parry by calling O’Coigly, who was tried for high treason in 1794, ‘a rascal,’ and the Doctor replied, ‘Yet, Jimmy, he might have been worse; he was an Irishman, and he might have been a Scotchman; he was a priest, ad he might have been a lawyer; he was a rebel, and he might have been an apostate.’ Alluding to Mackintosh’s early beginnings as a defender of the French Revolution. Luttrell was one day, when there was an unexpected addition to the dinner-party, told by Lady Holland that ‘he must make room.’ ‘It will have to be made,’ he said; ‘for it does not exist.’ Lady Holland ruled the brilliant throng with a rod of iron. She was beautiful, clever, well-read, and full of kindliness, but arbitrary power had spoilt her, and she became rather remarkable for her brusquerie and imperiousness. She has been known to stop Macaulay in the midst of an interesting anecdote with, ‘Now, Macaulay, we have had enough of this; give us something else.’ Sydney Smith she ordered about without much consideration. Telling him one day in stern tones to ring the bell, he did so meekly, and then asked, ‘whether he should sweep the room?’ Hearing that Tom Moore was writing about the life of Sheridan, which he expected to be lively and amusing, she remarked to him in full dinner-table, ‘This will be a dull book of yours, this ‘Sheridan,’ I fear.’ Sometimes she met her match, as in Talleyrand, who observed, on hearing someone ask why she dined as early as six, that ‘he supposed it was to inconvenience everybody.’ Seeing some politicians whispering together in the drawing room one evening – ‘Ah gentlemen,’ he said, ‘you’re whispering, we shall have to go to the club to find out what you are saying.’
Lord Holland died, as we have said in 1840, and all this brilliant society came to an end. Many of its lights had proceeded him; a few, such as Sydney Smith and Macaulay, survived him a short time; but Holland House ceased to be the charmed spot to which for so many years so many willing feet were turned. His son lived until 1859 and and the widow of the latter still occupies the old mansion. London society has, however, changed too much for any one woman to fill the place in it occupied by the third Lady Holland, and English literary and political life has grown too vast and various in volume to make any revival of the glories of Holland House possible.
Marie ‘Mary’ Henriette Adelaide Fox
21.XII.1850 – 26.XII.1878
Mary Henriette Adelaide Fox, more affectionately known as ‘May.’ was born on Saturday, December 21, 1850 in Paris Isle-de-France France and died on Thursday, December 26, 1878 in Schloss Burgstall, Steiermark , Austria
History tells us that Mary Fox was the adopted daughter of Henry Edward Fox, 4th Baron Holland and wife Lady Mary Augusta Coventry. At the time of her adoption, it was put about in society that Mary was the daughter of French parents of high birth, and that her adoption by Lord & Lady Holland was contingent upon the little girl formally and legally taking the family surname of Fox. However, today it is widely believed that Mary was the illegitimate daughter of Lord Holland by a French maid.
A highly social couple, ‘The Hollands’ lived in Italy for most of their lives, where they entertained a varied circle of close friends from aristocrats to artisans, that included, the Countess of Blessington, Dr. Frederick Hervey Foster Quin, Mary Shelley and many others.
Henry Edward Fox, 4th Baron Holland
Henry Edward Fox, fourth Lord Holland, was the son of the third baron and his clever, eccentric, but tiresome wife, the former Elizabeth Vassall, who had gathered round her at Holland House an internationally famous circle of statesmen, wits and men of letters.
In 1833, after not a few unsuccessful pursuits and broken engagements, he had married Lady Mary Augusta Coventry, who in moments of intimacy called her husband ‘Buz’; she was ten years his junior, and was reputed to have had the tiniest feet in Europe.
In a letter written to his mother at the time of his engagement, Henry had described Augusta
Lady Holland
‘She doesn’t possess a single gown or chiffon of any sort that I do not look forward to burning with great complacency’.
She was intelligent and well educated, good natured and cheerful, and though one would hardly guess it from her portraits, free from any shadow of affectation. Henry had soon helped her to acquire the necessary sartorial polish, and she now presided successfully over a salon very different from her mother in law’s, but one to which all visitors to Florence were eager to be invited.
Henry Edward Fox, when he turned forty, was appointed British Minister in Florence
At the age of sixteen, Miss Fox found herself with an eager beau. Lord Rosebery, whose goal was to marry an heiress; was pressed to marry Mary Fox. However, Mary, declined and although reported to have been engaged to the Marquess of Bute; later married a Prince of Liechtenstein.
'Almost on the same day that the London papers appeared with pages full of the proceedings at Lord Bute’s wedding, an announcement was made, with very unusual prominence, in the London Times, to the effect that Miss Fox, ‘well known to all who have had the privilege of being admitted to Holland House,’ was about to marry Prince Louis Liechtenstein, a member of a family holding the highest rank among the Austrian nobility. It so happens that at last season the statement was current in London that Miss Fox, who is of Roman Catholic faith, was engaged to Lord Bute, and by no one was this statement more vigorously asserted than by those especially intimate at Holland House. That under these circumstances the announcement of their respective marriages should be simultaneous naturally provoked considerable comment. Miss Fox has always been a mystery, and to some extent remains one. Lord and Lady Holland, the son and daughter-in-law of the subject of Lord Macaulay’s famous essay – were childless, and it appears that they adopted this young lady, whose parents were French, and of very high rank. It is now publicly stated that it was made a condition of her adoption that her own name should be dropped, and therefore she has always borne that of the Holland
Marie’s husband, Prince Aloys Franz de Paula Maria von und zu Liechtenstein was born in Vienna, on Thursday, November 19, 1846; third child and second son of Prince Franz de Paula von und zu Liechtenstein and of his wife Countess Julia Potocka, Marie and Aloys had issue of four daughters:
1. Princess Sophie Maria Josepha (Berlin, March 29, 1873 - Graz, March 2, 1947), married in Graz
2. Princess Julie Margarethe Maria (Schloss Burgstall, July 20, 1874 - Mayerling, July 3, 1950), unmarried and without issue.
3. Princess Henriette Maria Josefa (Schloss Burgstall, July 6, 1875 - Pertelstein, April 21, 1958), unmarried and without issue.
4. Princess Marie Johanna Franziska (Schloss Burgstall, August 21, 1877 - Vienna, January 11, 1939), married in Vienna
After Princess Marie’s death, Prinz Aloys married secondly in Vienna on Tuesday, May 20, 1890 Johanna Elisabeth Maria von Klinkosch (Vienna, August 13, 1849 - Baden bei Wien, January 31, 1925), daughter of Joseph Ritter von Klinkosch and wife Elise Swoboda, dying without further issue in Vienna on Thursday, March 25, 1920.
MISS FOX
By F. H . J.
The New York Times
April 28, 1872
…..This is a pairing time in the fashionable world just now. Matches which have been in process of arrangement in country homes and family circles during the Winter are now finally settled; and scarcely a day passes without a gay wedding at St. James’ or St. Georges’, or the announcement that one will shortly take place. One of the great weddings of the year will be that of the Marquis of Bute, who is supposed to be worth some 100.000 a year and who went over to the Catholic Church a year or two since, to Miss Howard, of Glossop, a daughter of a well known cadet of the old Catholic house of Arundel. It will take place in the country. Another marriage which creates interest is that of Miss Fox, the adopted daughter of Lady Holland, between whom and the Marquis of Bute a union had once been talked of, to Prince Louis of Liechtenstein
‘A CRUEL MYSTIFICATION’
The Daughter Of Holland
And The Romance Of Her Birth
July 10, 1872
(Correspondence Of The New York
The Chicago
July 25, 1872
Your correspondents in London have no doubt long been since furnished with accounts of the marriage of the young lady known in that city, as Miss Fox, ‘the daughter of Holland House,’ and Prince Louis of Liechtenstein – a wedding celebrated with unusual magnificence in the presence of many members of England’s royal family and of the crème de la crème of the aristocracy of Great Britain and of the Continent. But apropos, or rather mal apropos of this notable event, I find in the Figaro the following amazing story, which I copy, ‘under all reserve,’ although the writer in the Figaro guarantees the absolute truth of it.
He says:
‘Twenty years ago a young wife, tenderly loved by her husband, Mme, the Marquise of Montaign, died in giving birth to a daughter. The Marquis, distracted, full of grief for the loss of his wife, free from all paternal affection, so at least goes the legend, refused to accept the infant, the indirect cause of his chagrin, and banished it to Brittany, in a hospital for foundlings.’
‘While these events were passing, an English lady, Lady Holland, who passed through Brittany at this moment, learned of this history, and wished to rear this poor orphan so cruelly deserted by its father.’
‘The birth of this infant, the strangeness of its repudiation, as blameworthy as thoughtless, moved the heart of this benefactress, who came to reclaim the child, engaging herself to provide for her education and for her establishment in harmony with her name and origin when the moment for that should arrive.’
‘Lady Holland has kept her word; for today the infant, abandoned in an hospital of the province, has become a young lady of the world and of the first rank, and has come to espouse, thanks to her birth, the young Prince of Liechtenstein, under the name, well contrived, of Mlle. de Montaign.’
‘However, to arrive at the realization of this marriage, it was necessary to prove the act of birth and the act of baptism of the infant.’
‘But it has arrived that the news of this union is new to the ears of Monsieur the Marquis of Montaign, and that he remains stunned by learning this history, of which he and Lady Holland are the absolute dupes.
‘In fine, Monsieur, the Marquis of Montaign, far from repulsing the infant of whom the birth was to him so dear, has been, on the contrary, particularly attached to her, and has never been separated from her. His daughter, his real daughter, has come to herself to be married a few months since, to M. de. Lamotte; and God knows if her father be not astonished to learn this singular history, of which he cannot see either the source or the aim. In any case, M. de Montaign appears determined to find the authors of this cruel mystification and insult to his dignity and his paternal affections.’
This is very droll! But it is not most probably, a canard most unsubstantial!’
MARRIAGE IN HIGH LIFE
The Nuptials Of
Prince Liechtenstein
The New York Times
July 12, 1872
From The Manchester
June 28, 1872
Yesterday morning one of the most splendid wedding ceremonies that has ever taken place out of the royal circle in London was celebrated at the Pro-Cathedral, High-street, Kensington, in the presence of the Prince and Princess of Wales, Prince Arthur, the Duke and Duchess of Teck, the Duke of Cambridge, Earl Granville, Count Beust, and a host of the nobility of the United Kingdom and of foreign countries. Although the wedding services were fixed to commence at 11 o’clock, carriages began to arrive an hour earlier in strings at the Pro-Cathedral, which, by the way, faces the entrance to Holland House, a circumstance that obviated the necessity of the bride taking more than two minutes to get from the house of her adopted mother to the altar. The first visitor of distinction to arrive was Earl Granville, in plain morning dress, with white waistcoat. He, it was known, would give away the bride. His Lordship was quickly followed by Lord Henry Lennox, and the following friends of Lady Holland’s family, who, amid a rustle of silks and muslins took their seats on the left of the altar, the place selected by her ladyship for her friends: Prince and Princess Metternich, the Baron and Baroness Bulow, the Duc de Richelieu, Lord and Lady Lifford, the Marquis and Marchioness of Lansdowne, Lord Ilchester, Col. Fox, Duke of St. Albans, Lady Maria Ponsonby, Capt. Fitzclarence, Lord Edmund Fitzclarence, the Countess Granville, Lady Bessborough, Lord and Lady Cecilia Bingham, and the representatives of many other distinguished families. The edifice, calculated by the stewards, gentlemen members of the ordinary congregations, who wore the Papal colors (yellow and white) in their button-holes, to hold nearly 2,000 persons, was well filled with an assembly who, it was evident from their aristocratic bearing and style of dress, were more or less all members of the higher class of society. Just as the two organs have begun to play, the Duke of Cambridge enters alone and takes his seat on the right of the altar. His Royal Highness, who bows to a few of his friends, is hardly observed, when a loud burst of music, and the uprising of the audience to their feet, announces the arrival of the Catholic Archbishop, followed by Monsignor Capel (who took no part in the service) and a number of clergymen, including the Father Superior of the Pro-Cathedral itself, (Mr. Foley.) The Archbishop, ascending the steps to his crimson canopied throne, is scarcely robed in his splendidly embroidered mitre and cope, when three very tall, military looking men, all young, enter the church together, and the immediate playing of the Austrian National hymn, and the fact that Earl Granville rushes forward to grasp the hands of the new comers prove that this is the bridegroom’s party. The leading actor in the scene, a pale, fair man, without a hair on his face, noiselessly marches rather than walks to the front of the prie-dieu. He and his second brother, Alfred, are in the uniform – dark blue coat, gold braid, red trousers, and long Hessian boots – of the Liechtenstein Hussar Regiment. The third brother, the tallest of the three, and the best man, is gorgeously clad, he wearing the magnificent dress of a Knight of Justice of the Order of Malta
There was a little pause at the conclusion of the address, which was heard in every part of the Pro-Cathedral, and then the Archbishop left his throne. The wedding march was again played, and Earl Granville engaged himself in the new duty of distributing wedding favors to the royal party. The Prince of Wales placed the favor in his coat in the same button-hole with his flower – a white one – and some amusement was caused by the somewhat elaborate effect produced by the combined effect. His Royal Highness himself was probably not the least amused at the consequence of his own act. Shortly after noon the bride and bridegroom (the latter having his hat strapped soldier fashion to his sword) left the sacred edifice for Holland House, and the Prince and Princess of Wales Surrey .
MISS FOX’S WEDDING
The Newfoundlander
July 23, 1872
The marriage of Prince Liechtenstein with Miss Fox, the adopted daughter of Lady Holland, took place on Wednesday morning, June 27, in the Pro-Cathedral, Kensington, London
It was calculated that there were 1,150 seats at the disposal of the stewards, but very few of them were assigned to the general public. The whole of the centre seats, as far up as the pulpit, were occupied by Lady Holland’s friends, the seats along the wall on each side being alone available for the public. Shrubs and ferns were arranged in beautiful profusion by the side of the steps of the sanctuary, at the back of which the high altar stood, resplendent in cloth of gold and silver, and gay with bright flowers. At a quarter to eleven the acolytes, bearing lighted candles and carrying the cross before them, filed out of the vestry, and marched in slow procession down the centre of the church, the organ softly playing a processional tune. The Archbishop presently entered and took his seat on the throne, and was there robed, ringed, and mitred in the presence of the congregation. Bu this time the seats on the right of the sanctuary were beginning to be filled by the invited guests, among whom were the Duke of St. Albans, Lady A, and Lady Maria Coventry, Mr. and Lady Maria Ponsonby, Mrs. Callender, Captain, Lady Maria, and Lord Edmund Fitzmaurice. Mr. and Lady Maria Hood, Countess Granville, Countess Bessborough, Earl and Countess Ilchester, the Marquis and Marchioness Lansdowne, General Fox, Mr. Henry and Mr. Arthur Coventry, Lord and Lady Lilford, Hon. Leopold Powys, Lady Mary Powys, Earl and Countess Coventry, Lord H. Lennox, Lord and Lady Cecilia Bingham, Mr. Cheney, Mr, and Mrs. Craven and Mr. Caraffa.
A few minutes after eleven o’clock the organ began to play the ‘Austrian Hymn,’ and the young bridegroom, His Highness the Prince Aloys Liechtenstein Malta
The bride knelt for a few moments at the prie-dieu, and then was led by Lord Granville into the vestry, Lady Holland following with the bridegroom.
Up to this time the semicircle of seats prepared for the royal party had remained unoccupied, but at a quarter past eleven the Duke of Cambridge entered and took his seat in the first row. He was speedily followed by the Prince and Princess Metternich, Baron Bülow, (the Danish minister) and the Baroness, the Duc de Richelieu, Count Monteglas, Count Monefeldt, Count Lewenhaupt, M. Pleuer, Duke Folie, Count Bombelles, Chevalier Schaefer, Count Dalisky, M. de Bernarth, and Count Lossnorn. At half-past twelve, the organ pealing forth the National Anthem announced the arrival of the Prince of Wales, who led the Princess of Wales to her seat, before the sanctuary. Prince Arthur and the Duke and Duchess of Teck followed. The royal princes and the Duke of Cambridge were dressed in simple morning costume. The Princess of Wales wore a train skirt of purple velvet, tunic of blue grey crepe de chine trimmed with lace, tight-fitting jacket, quite plain and sleeveless. Her bonnet was of blue crepe de chine piped with purple velvet, small grey-blue feathers. The arrival of the royal party was the signal for the reappearance of the bridal party, who came out of the vestry led by the bridegroom, Earl Granville again conducting the bride. Lady Holland knelt at the prie-dieu, Earl Granville stood by his chair, and, the archbishop advancing to the steps of the sanctuary, the Prince led Miss Fox up, and the ceremony commenced.
After the service, which had not occupied many minutes, was concluded, the bridal party moved into the chapel of the Sacred Heart, where the register was signed.
NR
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