Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 November 1875 — An Erratic Duchess. [ARTICLE]

An Erratic Duchess.

A lady who occupied a prominent po■ltion in Parisian society, the Duchess de Riario Sforza, sister of the late M. Ber. ryer, has just died at the Chateau d’Angerville. She was the widow of one of the richest notaries in Paris, whose entire fortune she inherited, when she met at the house of the Marquise de Boissv, net ter known as the Countess Guiccioli, an old, shabbily-dressed Italian officer, whe was attached to the household of Joseph Bonaparte and Murat and had served as a Colonel in a cavalry regiment under the Empire. He was of the type of thos* Imperialist officers ho frequented the Case Pov half a century ago. The notary’s widow asked who he was and was surprised to hear that he was Duke of Riario bforza and brother of the Cardinal-Arch-bishop of Naples In the course of conversation she learned that he was a bachelor and looking out for a rich wife willing to barter a fortune for a ducal coronet. “I’m the woman,” she said. “ I am ambitious. I detest my present name, which is insupportably common, and my fortune is big enough to regild the Duke’s battered strawberry-leaves. Introduce him to me, first telling himjwhy I want to know him.” The v ,Duke was introduced. He, the lady and a friend retired to ■ boudoir, where the marriage articles were talked over in a thoroughly matter-of-fact way, the Duke stipulating for complete independence, in fact for a separate establishment, with a large fortune to keep it up. All his conditions were complied with and the wedding took place some weeks later. During his lifetime he contrived to bridle the fantastic tastes of the Duchess. But when he died she indulged in them to the full. She was phenomenally thin. It was impossible for 'anyone Suddenly seeing her not to be startled and shocked at her cadaverous appearance. Born in an humble rank ot life, she might have amassed a fortune by exhibiting herself as a femme squelette. She was at a festive meeting the death’s head of an Egyptian feast. Though so painfully disqualified bylierextraordinary emaciation from going into society, tlic Duchess of Riario Sforza was one of the most social women in Paris almost to the time of her death, which happened in her eightieth year. Her passion for dres9 was excessive and she invariably chose garments suited to a young married woman. Her faith in the power of the mantua-maker, and of those artists setting up to'fix the bloom of youth or restore it when vanished, was unbounded. Contrary to French custom, she overdressed as much at her own balls as at those of her acquaintances. The only badge of widowhood she wore —and she and it were inseparable—was a kind of enameled hatchment, suspended from a diamond necklace or gold chain, as a medailion might have been, with the heraldic quarterings and coronet of the late Duke of Riario Sforza. As she gave sumptuous dinners and had, on marrying,, retained the power to dispose of nearly £IO,OOO sterling a year, people took care not to laugh at her absurd vanity and whims. She was a very buspicious old lady, and, to keep a vigilant watch on the looks and gestures of her guests, had the mirror in her drawing-room so arranged that she. could see, from her fauteuil, everything that took place behind her back. No son ant or tradesman was ever known to please her a week. She had her palatial mansion at Passy pulled down and rebuilt ■ three times in the course of fourteen years and, just before her death, she was thinking of demolishing it again. The torment of the Parisian architects and house-deco-rators, she was a kind of providence for the masons, to stimulate whom to activity she often allowed double wages. Fortunetellers, chiromantists, and dealers of other weird, occult and supernatural causes will miss the erratic Duchess, who patronized them during both her widowhoods. A notorious tireur de carte* predicted that she would take for her third husband a royal Prince, dark-eyed, fair-liaired. rich as C’ru'sus, and a devoted lover. The trouble she was at to fulfill the propliecyundoubtedly helped to kill her. Wherever the Prince whom she thought was to become her spouse went she followed him. When she heard he was going to the theater she at once had herself taken. On Chantilly day she drove to the Northern Railway and stationed herself in the line of private carriages before tin; terminus, to bow to him as he passed. She crossed his path on the Bois de Boulogne on Longchamps days and, when at death’s door, was at point of attending the soirees to which she knew he was invited. The intant grandchild of the late M. Berryer will, it is believed, succeed to her property. — Paris Cor. London Daily Fews.