A Lover's Eye

Madame's Nightshirt

Mrs. Peperium

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Still I have a serious confession. Even though I'm in new quarters, all refurnished with new posters and a brand-new bed, and friends more often say, "You're looking good, old buddy," there is something that I've kept of Jenny, who was once my wife. 

In the bottom drawer of the desk at home are Jenny's glasses. Yes. Both pairs of Jenny's glasses.  Because a glance at them reminds me of of the lovely eyes that looked through them to look through me. - Eric Segal, Oliver's Story

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There's a reason the poets remind us the eyes are the window to the soul.  Because they are. Eyes are the finest feature a man or woman can possess. And wield.

The invention of "A Lover's Eye" is credited to Mrs. Fitzherbert.  Due to all the secrecy surrounding her we can never be quite sure, but it is believed that sometime around 1785 Mrs. Fitzherbert commissioned Richard A. Cosway, one of London's most accomplished miniaturists, to paint one of her lovely eyes. Not her entire face.  The portrait was done on ivory, placed behind glass and set within a locket. She gave it as a present to her third husband. The reason for all the secrecy between Mrs. Fitzherbert and her husband is that their marriage was an illicit one. In the eyes of the British courts and Church which were one and the same, it was invalid. Though, in the eyes of Mrs. Fitzherbert's own Church, the Catholic Church, it was completely valid.

Mrs. Fitzherbert, a twice-widowed Catholic, had married the Prince of Wales, the future George IV. The Marriage Act of 1772 prevented descendants of George II from marrying Catholics.  If the marriage of Mrs. Fitzherbert and the Prince had become known, he would not have succeeded to the throne. So the marriage, contracted in secret, remained in secret. The Prince of Wales, caught firmly between love and duty, could not be found wearing a portrait of his beloved wife.  But he could wear a portrait of her eye. If anyone, political friend or foe, chanced to see the eye, they could not say  with complete authority it was Mrs. Fitzherbert.   

Due to the pressing demands of his father, the King, and his even more pressing gambling debts, the Prince of Wales did commit bigamy by marrying the rich Protestant princess, Caroline of Brunswick.  That marriage was a disaster. He was drunk during the ceremony and they only had marital relations 3 times. Twice on their wedding night and once the next day.  Fortunately three times was enough as it brought forth the much required heir, Charlotte. After Charlotte's birth, the Prince made out a new will in which he left all his property to "Maria Fitzherbert, my wife". To Princess Caroline, the wife his Church recognized as well as mother of his child, he gallantly gave one shilling. The Prince returned to the arms of his real wife as well as the arms of all his countless mistresses. Caroline found herself in the arms of so many men she was soon called "The Immoral Queen". They never lived together.  George even forbade her from attending his coronation but she was his Queen.

The Prince of Wales continued to live off and on with Mrs. Fitzherbert until their relationship ended in about 1811.  When George IV died in 1830, it was discovered he was not only wearing her "Lover's Eye" locket around his neck, he had kept all of her letters. His brother, the new King, offered to make her a duchess for all of her suffering. She refused.  She died as Mrs. Fitzherbert, well-respected among those whose respect was worthy of having, in 1837.

This is the romantic history behind "A Lover's Eye". Lover's Eyes set in lockets, brooches and even rings (like the one above which had to be made for a dashing Naval officer) became quite the token of love among illicit lovers. Perhaps even among licit lovers who enjoyed romance. Both men and women sat for them.  They continued in popularity well into the 1850's. Or until the camera's invention. Thanks to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, we know what happened with the camera, letters and the King of Bohemia. If only Irene Adler had given the King A Lover's Eye.  But if she had, then Holmes never would have met The Woman and we lovers of English literature would certainly be the worse for it.

As failed, flawed, sordid, and sometimes even twisted the history of A Lover's Eye is, it is not as twisted as this. (Do read.) Women in my day still understood the power of the eyes as the Eric Segal excerpt above most firmly attests.  But it appears the women of today do not.  Something has seriously gone missing.

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Comments

[Christine]

Fascinating! Her name comes from her second husband, Thomas Fitzherbert of Swynnerton, of the great Catholic recusant family, whose eponymously named ancestor worked with Campion and Persons and later was rector of the English College in Rome.

[Caspar]

My friend, the English-major-turned-attorney, commented, "I personally would have succumbed, and entitled this essay "The King and Eye."

[George Pal]

Wonderful story.

“When a woman is talking to you, listen to what she says with her eyes.”
- Victor Hugo

Taking Victor and the book covers into account, it seems women have finally achieved the status of being seen and not heard. You’ve come a long way baby!

[Mrs. Peperium]

Caspar, welcome to PP. The King and Eye...heh. I wish I had thought of that...

George, heh. At the root of this has to be Picasso.

Christine,this just gets weirder. Ok Campion was executed at Tyburn was he not? Well Cosway was a Catholic and there is a bust of him at St. Marylebone -next or near Tyburn- as that is where he is buried. His wife was an artist as well and on excellent terms with the Pope. Her name was Maria.

[Old Dominion Tory]

Making this even more interesting is that Richard Cosway's wife, Maria, was the platonic love interest of Thomas Jefferson when he was American Minister to France in the late 1780s. She must have been something because Jefferson once injured himself performing some physical feat undetaken to impress the younger Maria.
Although her marriage to Cosway was something that George IV would have recognized(apparently, he was something of a libertine and she often was in the company of other men), in the early part of the 19th century, Maria followed a better path. She painted many works for chapels, devoted herself to establishing and supporting convent schools for young ladies in France and Italy, and cared for sick friends and relatives.