Among the peculiarities and accomplishments for which D’Orsay desired to be famous was that of great muscular strength, as well as a knowledge of all weapons, and when he shook hands with his friends it was with the whole palm, with such an impressive clutch of the fingers as drove the blood from the limb he held, and sent every ring on the hand almost to the bone.

The apparent frankness of manner and kind expression in his good-looking face, when he met you with the exclamation of “Ah, ha, mon ami, ” and grasped you by the hand, were charming ; and we, who rather prided ourselves on being able to do strong things, used to be ready for this grasp, and exhibit our muscular powers in return.

There is no man who can so well imitate D’Orsay’s method of greeting in this particular as my excellent friend Dr. Quin. Poor, dear D’Orsay ! He was a very accomplished, kind-hearted, and graceful fellow, and much in request in what may be called the fashionable world. I knew him well in his happier hours, I knew him when he was in difficulties, and I knew him in distress ; and
when, in France, I heard from Frenchmen that those in his native country to whom he looked for high lucrative employment and patronage, and from whom D’Orsay thought he had some claim to expect them, rather slighted his pretensions ; and when in his last lingering, painful illness, left him to die too much neglected and alone.

That D’Orsay was unwisely extravagant as well as not over-scrupulous in morality, we know ; but that is a man’s own affair, not that of his friends. His faults, whatever they were, were covered, or at least glossed over by real kindness of heart, great generosity, and prompt good nature, grace in manner, accomplishments, and high courage ; therefore, place him side by side with manv of the men with whom he lived in England, D’Orsay, by comparison, would have the advantage in many things. He certainly retained my friendship to the last, and induced in me very great regret for the circumstances which, in the end, disappointed him, and to a very great extent, I fear, embittered his last moments.

From: Grantley Fitzhardinge Berkeley: My Life and Recollections. Vol. 1 London: Hurst & Blackett (1865)