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Everything Is Possible For An Eccentric, Especially When He Is English – Part Six


Francis Henry Egerton, 8th Earl of Bridgewater (1756 – 1829)

Although educated at Eton and Oxford, Egerton quickly forsook England for the delights of Paris and soon entertained the locals with his version of English eccentricity. Quite why he left the family home of Ashridge House in the Hertfordshire village of Little Gaddesden is unclear, although there are suggestions that he had got a woman in the family way. His friends were somewhat surprised as he regularly spoke of his hatred of the place.

On arrival in Paris he bought a luxurious hotel, as you do, at 335 rue Saint-Honore and moved in with his collection of cats and dogs. A regular Parisian sight was a grand carriage leaving his gaff carrying several dogs reclining on silk cushions to the Bois de Boulogne where the pooches got out and were exercised, under umbrellas when the weather was inclement. At meal times the dogs were kitted out with leather boots, handmade of course, on their feet and linen napkins round their necks. Seated at the table, they were expected to behave with decency and decorum as their grub was brought to them on silver dishes.

Alas, not all of the dogs met Egerton’s exacting standards. Two of his favourites, Bijou and Biche, rebelled and in the eccentric’s own words “behaved like rascals”. So he had them measured up and condemned them to wear the valets’ uniform of yellow coats and knee breeches for eight days and they were deprived of the Earl’s company. I wonder if it made any difference.

As an English gentleman abroad, Egerton was keen to pursue the sport of fox-hunting. To this end he imported a pack of hounds and a fox and dressed in the full hunting rig would pursue the poor creature around the grounds of the hotel. Perhaps even less sporting was Egerton’s habit of clipping the wings of partridges and pheasants with which he stocked the grounds so that he might more easily shoot them even with his by then failing eyesight.

Egerton had a novel way of keeping track of the date. He would wear a fresh pair of shoes every day and when he had finished with them one of his servants would take them into a special room where they were laid out in a row. Egerton would then amuse himself by visiting the room, counting the shoes to calculate the date and by judging the condition of them, determine what the weather conditions had been.

Although eccentric, Egerton was not a man to cross. He faced down Napoleon Bonaparte who was remodelling Paris and wanted to change the layout of the area near the hotel. His workmen were quickly sent packing. The Duke of Saxe-Coburg made an attempt to requisition the hotel, only to be confronted by Egerton and thirty servants, armed to the teeth.

Egerton made little attempt to learn the local language, preferring to converse in Latin, although he did have some of Milton’s works translated into French for the benefit of the natives. And he didn’t think the local cuisine was up to snuff. One summer he decided that his entourage would spend some months sampling the delights of the French countryside. On the day of departure, 30 servants on horseback, the earl and his dogs together with 16 luggage carriages set off from rue Saint-Honore. Stopping some way out of Paris for lunch, he concluded that the quality of the food and the standard of service was not up to his exalted standards and promptly returned home.

He stayed in Paris until his death but was buried back in Blighty in the family chapel.