Intrepid Ladies: More about Hortense Mancini

Susan reporting:

Since Hortense Mancini, duchesse Mazarin (1646-1699) was so popular in Tuesday's blog, I've decided to revisit her today. She's such a flamboyantly Intrepid Lady that she deserves a little extra time.

"I know that a woman's glory lies in not giving rise to gossip," Hortense (perhaps disingenuously) wrote in her memoirs, "and those who know me know well enough that I do not care for making a public sensation, but one cannot always choose the kind of life one wishes to lead."

For a lady who didn't desire "public sensation," Hortense sure did know how to put on a show. Once she escaped from her fanatically mad husband in 1668, her journeys took her from Rome to Venice, to France, Switzerland, Germany, Holland, and England; an astonishing itinerary in a time when most women never ventured more than a few miles from where they'd been born. But Hortense made an art of surviving on the road in high style, pawning jewels and sponging off relatives and lovers, and often riding only just ahead of the soldiers that her irate husband sent after her.

In addition to servants, her extensive entourage included her menagerie of pet dogs, cats, monkeys, and a talking parrot named Pretty. Perhaps most important was Hortense's African page, Mustapha, who repeatedly rescued Hortense when her impulsive plunges into rivers and oceans exceeded her swimming skills. She became a celebrity for shooting pistols and riding like a man "on horseback, wearing a plumed hat and peruke," and crowds gathered wherever she appeared. Gushed the Comtesse de Grignan with unabashed admiration, Hortense and Marie "were traveling like true heroines of romance, with a great many jewels and no linen."

When Hortense finally appeared in London in 1675, "en habit de cavalier," she did indeed cause a sensation. "It is believed that a lady so extolled cannot fail to be the cause of adventures," wrote the French ambassador. "People talk of her everywhere, the men with admiration, the women with jealousy and uneasiness."

What everyone was soon remarking was how quickly she'd become Charles II's newest mistress. At least for now, the days of pawning jewels were done, and not only were her new quarters in Whitehall Palace being lavishly redecorated, but so were her servants, now dressed in laced livery to the extravagant tune of 2600 gold livres. Charles didn't care: he was as dazzled as the others. She could ride hard and hunt all day with the gentlemen, then afterwards, draped in jewels, she'd give the best suppers as a model hostess, serving the best wines, food, and conversation to be found in London.

"With the appetites which God has given her," wrote the French ambassador, "she would certainly devour double the income that she has...I do not know how she does it, but these extraordinary expenses appear to me a little suspicious."

But to those who REALLY knew Hortense, I'm sure it just seemed like Hortense being Hortense: an extravagant zest for life while letting someone else worry about the expense. Besides, how can you question a lady who'd dare have herself painted like this, above right?

Above: Portrait of Hortense Mancini by Jacob Voet
Below: Portrait of Hortense Mancini, Duchess of Mazarin, by Benedetto Gennari the Younger