Anne Lister in Paris:
The Baron Denon, an “old intriguer”

The next day, Mrs. Barlow showed Anne a book that man sent to her: Voyage a Plombières, by Jean-Baptiste-Vincent Pirault des Chaumes (1822), and in it, “the story in verse of one woman intriguing with another.”²

We don’t know when Maria Barlow eventually revealed the identity of this man to Anne Lister, but the question remains: why would she hide it in the first place? It is possible that Maria chose to do so because her relationship with Anne was in its early days and she did not know how far she could trust Anne to keep this compromising secret that involved a powerful man. It is also possible that Mrs. Barlow knew Anne would soon meet him in person. 

Many artworks from this collection had been ‘brought back’ – some bought, many stolen – during Denon's travels. “I observed everything I came across, and put in my pockets all the portable fragments I could find,” he recounted after visiting the tombs in the Valley of the Kings.⁷ Denon accompanied Napoleon on his military expedition in Egypt, where he was commissioned to draw and describe the country's monuments. He also followed the Emperor as he invaded Italy, Germany, Spain and Austria. Everywhere, Denon organised the plundering of hundreds of statues, furniture, books, and paintings in order to create in Paris the “largest museum in the universe” in the Louvre palace.⁸

However, after Napoleon's fall in 1815, the Allies decided France had to return those stolen objects. In November 1816, Anne read an “interesting account” of “the work of retributive justice begun 23 September 1815”⁹ in John Scott's Paris Revisited. This Scottish journalist, who witnessed first-hand the removal of hundreds of artworks from the museum, “warmly approves the breaking up of the Louvre,” noted Anne:

However, Scott pointed out that many English people did not share his opinion, as they found it convenient to be able to see all the finest European pieces of art and antiques in one place, just by crossing the channel. 

Mrs. Barlow confessed to Anne that several Frenchmen wanted to marry her, but as they did not have enough money to do so, they would have liked to be “her amant [lover]” instead “had she given encouragement.”¹³ Anne presumed Mrs Barlow still had this very mysterious man in mind: “thought I to myself, the savant made you the offer.”

In any case, Denon was used to socialising with English expatriates. In Italy, he met Lady Hamilton, the wife of the English Envoy Extraordinary in Naples and future mistress of Lord Nelson, and made several etching portraits of her. And according to the confidences Lady Stuart de Rothesay made to Anne Lister, Monsieur Denon was invited to the British Embassy in Paris at rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honoré.

On her visit to Quai Voltaire, Anne observed that Denon had brought back home some “mummies and part of mummies” from Egypt.¹⁸ He even used to organise some “unrolling” sessions attended by prominent French political figures, such as the Prime Minister Talleyrand and the comte de Flahaut, both future ambassadors to the United Kingdom. 

According to Lady Stuart de Rothesay, these events were another opportunity for Denon to tease women:

In fact, there was another side to Denon's production. Anonymously, this companion of Napoleon had published a libertine best-seller, Point de Lendemain [No tomorrow], and drew a collection of obscene prints.¹⁹ 

Even in this very public 'private collection' of his, Denon liked to display some pieces which may have shocked her Ladyship – but not Anne Lister, who used them to flirt with Mrs. Barlow:

Among his peers and polite society, Denon was seen as more of a seducer than an exhibitionist or a predator. He had the reputation of a brilliant man who had merely a taste for beautiful women and was popular with them,²⁰ despite his unattractive features. According to Constant, “He was ugly, but as ugly as it is really not allowed to be, and no man had as much success with ladies, even in very old age.”²¹ 

Two centuries later, Denon’s legacy continues to be celebrated in the art world with a whole wing of the Louvre museum in Paris bearing his name. French history books perpetuate the rather positive image of an important figure who “chased women as much as he did works of art."²² However, through Mrs. Barlow and Lady Stuart de Rothesay's testimony, Anne Lister’s journals paint a different picture: that of a powerful man who did not care much about women’s feelings and consent.