Volume 2

Autobiography : being eighty-eight years of the life of a physician / edited, with a brief account of the last years of his life, by his youngest daughter, Paulina B. Granville.

  • Granville, A. B. (Augustus Bozzi), 1783-1872.
Date:
1874
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: Autobiography : being eighty-eight years of the life of a physician / edited, with a brief account of the last years of his life, by his youngest daughter, Paulina B. Granville. Source: Wellcome Collection.

Provider: This material has been provided by Royal College of Physicians, London. The original may be consulted at Royal College of Physicians, London.

    27/456 (page 11)
    stitutes a wide distinction between the Parisian and the London beau monde. One gentleman I must mention more particularly, who was pointed out to me at Monsieur Gbrard’s, and that was Monsieur Pinchon, who had resided many years in the United States as French consul, and who had refused to lend or give any money to Jerome Bonaparte when in that country, in consequence of which refusal he had been recalled and much persecuted, until, by one of those whims which were so frequent in Napoleon, he was appointed Minister of Finance of the kingdom of Westphalia, governed by a sovereign to whom he had refused to lend money. Monsieur Pinchon was now Avocat an Conseil. In stature he was a short person with a sickly face and grey hair. He had just published a work against his royal master under the title of “ L’Administration de B &c. What interested me more, was a short conversation I had with Madame Dubahors, who was in their company, well known as a writer of light articles in various Parisian journals, and who was gifted with much genius and judgment, but old, ugly, and a slovenly dresser. An exceedingly pretty English widow was with her, daughter of Dickinson the engraver, for some time settled in Paris. She was one of the most admired of the company, which was honoured towards the end by the presence of Baron Humboldt. As I was nearing more and more the date for reaching my English home, I seemed to become more inclined to accept acts of politeness and courtesy from English people, especially old acquaintances. Thus I became inseparable the last two or three days from Captain Rae of the Marines, an old messmate of mine in the Maidstone frigate, with Colonel Pallen, and Lieutenant Ramsay of the Guards, whom I had not met for years, and I accepted gladly an invitation to breakfast with the Misses Cockerell, daughters