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 DA 447.G74H21 1890 
 
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MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 COUNT DE GRAMMONT 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 ' tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027989643 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Count de Grammont 
 
 Containing the History of the English 
 Court under Charles II. 
 
 COUNT ANTHONY HAMILTON. 
 
 TRANSLATED, with Notes, by HORACE WALPOLE 
 
 WITH ADDITIONAL NOTES BY 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT and Mrs. JAMESON 
 
 LONDON : GEORGE ALLEN isf UNWIN, LTD. 
 
 RUSKIN HOUSE, 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C. i 
 
First Published January 1890 
 Reprinted, May igoi ; January 
 1904; Jan. 191 1 ; July 1926 
 
 X 
 
 Printed in Great Britain by 
 W. Jolly &" Sons, Ltd., Aberdeen, 
 
 All Right Reserved 
 
 H\- 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The Publishers feel very little hesitation in issu- 
 ing a new edition of the Grammont Memoirs in 
 a popular form and at a popular price. Having 
 first appeared in France in 17 13, not more than 
 about half-a-dozen English editions have been 
 produced up to the present time, and there is 
 only one other modern version now in print ; and 
 this, moreover, being published in a luxurious edi- 
 tion at a high price for the bibliophile, is out of 
 reach of the historical student and general reader, 
 for whom the work, as a contemporary account 
 of the Court and Times of Charles II., is second 
 in interest, if not in importance, to none. 
 
 THE PUBLISHERS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 SJLQR 
 
 BioGRAFHicAi, Sketch of Anthony Hamii,ton . . . i 
 Episti,e to the Count de Grammont . . . . , . i6 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Grammont and his servant are introduced . . , . „ 31 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont at the siege of Trino, and 
 his general life ' ■ • • 35 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 Experience and adventures of the Chevalier de Grammont before 
 his arrival at the siege of Trino ....... 42 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 His arrival at the Court of Turin and description of how he passed 
 his time 59 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 His return to the Court of France. His adventures at the siege 
 of Arras. His response to Cardinal Mazarin and his exile from 
 the Court of France 86 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 His arrival at the Court of England. Character of the personages 
 composing the Court 109 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 vie falls in love with Miss Hamilton, describes various adventures 
 at a ball to the Queen, and the curious journey of his valet to 
 
 Paris 141 
 
 irii) 
 
via CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The burlesque story of his Chaplain Poussatin. Description of 
 the siege of Lerida. Marriage of the Duke of York with Miss 
 Hyde and other particulars of the Court of England . -175 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Various intrigues and love affairs of the Court of England . .212 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Other intrigues and love affairs of the Court of England . . 269 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Return of the Chevalier de Grammont to the Court of France, his 
 reminiscences of the English Court, and various intrigues and 
 love affairs of some of the personages mentioned in his memoirs, 
 and of the Court generally 323 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Mrs. Lawson — Mistress of Charles II 369 
 
 Susan Armine (Lady Bellasys) — Mistress of the Duke of York . 372 
 
 Louise de Qudroualle (Duchess of Portsmouth) — Mistress of the 
 Duke of York 380 
 
COUNT HAMILTON. 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 OF 
 
 ANTHONY HAMILTON. 
 
 Of Anthony Hamilton, the celebrated author of the 
 Grammont* Memoirs, much cannot now be with cer- 
 tainty known. The accounts prefixed to the diiFerent 
 editions of his works, down to the year 1805, are very 
 imperfect ; in that year a new and, in general, far better 
 edition than any of the preceding ones was published 
 in Paris, to which a sketch of his life was also added ; 
 
 * For uniformity's sake the writer of this sketch has followed the 
 Memoirs in the spelling of this name ; but he thinks it necessary to 
 observe that it should be Gramont, not Grammont. 
 
 (1) 
 
2 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OP 
 
 but it contains rather just criticisms on his works, than 
 any very novel or satisfactory anecdote concerning him- 
 self. It is not pretended here to gratify literary curiosity 
 as fully as it ought to be, with regard to this singular 
 and very ingenious man ; some effort, however, may be 
 made to communicate a few more particulars relative to 
 him, than the public has hitherto, perhaps, been ac- 
 quainted with. 
 
 Anthony Hamilton was of the noble family of that 
 name : Sir George Hamilton, his father, was a younger 
 son of James, Earl of Abercorn, a native of Scotland'. 
 His mother was daughter of Lord Thurles, and sister 
 to James, the first Duke of Ormond ; his family and 
 connections therefore, on the maternal side, were en- 
 tirely Irish. He was, as well as his brothers and sisters, 
 bom in Ireland, it is generally said, about the year 1646 ; 
 but there is some reason to imagine that it was three 
 or four years earlier. The place of his birth, according 
 to the best family accounts, was Roscrea, in the county 
 of Tipperary, the usual residence of his father when not 
 engaged by military or public business. * It has been 
 always said that the family migrated to France when 
 Anthony was an infant ; but this is not the fact : "Sir 
 George Hamilton," says Carte, "would have accom- 
 panied his brother-in-law, the Marquis of Ormond, to 
 France, in December, 1650 : but, as he was receiver- 
 general in Ireland, he stayed to pass his accounts, 
 which he did to the satisfaction of all parties, notwith- 
 
 * In September, 1646, Owen O'Neale took Roscrea, and, as Carte 
 says, "put man, woman, and child to the sword, except Sir George 
 Hamilton's lady, sister to the Marquis of Ormond, and some few 
 gentlewomen whom he kept prisoners." No family suffered more in 
 those disastrous times than the house of Ormond. Lady Hamilton 
 died in August, 1680, as appears from an interesting and affecting 
 letter of her brother, the Duke of Ormond, dated Carrick, August 
 25th. He had lost his noble son. Lord Ossory, not three weeks 
 before. 
 
ANTHONY HAMILTON. 3 
 
 standing much clamor had been raised against him." 
 When that business was settled, he, in the spring of 
 1651, took Lady Hamilton and all his family to France, 
 and resided with Lord and Lady Ormond, near Caen, 
 in Normandy,* in great poverty and distress, till the 
 Marchioness of Ormond, a lady whose mind was as ex- 
 alted as her birth, went over to England, and, after 
 much solicitation, obtained two thousand pounds a year 
 from her own and her husband's diiferent estates in 
 Ireland. This favor was granted her by Cromwell, 
 who always professed the greatest respect for her. The 
 Marchioness resided in Ireland, with the younger part 
 of her family, from 1655 till after the Restoration ; while 
 the Marquis of Ormond continued for a considerable 
 part of that period with his two sisters. Lady Clancarty 
 and Lady Hamilton, at the Feuillatines, in the Faubourg 
 St. Jacques, in Paris. 
 
 It appears from a letter of the Marquis to Sir Robert 
 Southwell, that, although he himself was educated in 
 the Protestant religion, not only his father and mother, 
 but all his brothers and sisters, were bred, and always 
 continued, Roman Catholics. Sir George Hamilton 
 also, according to Carte, f was a Roman Catholic; An- 
 thony, therefore, was bred in the religion of his family, 
 and conscientiously adhered to it through life. He en- 
 tered early into the army of Louis XIV., as did his 
 brothers George, Richard, and John, the former of whom 
 introduced the company of English gens d'armes into 
 France in 1667, according to Le P&re Daniel, author of 
 the History of the French Army, who adds the follow- 
 ing short account of its establishment : Charles II., being 
 
 * Hence possibly Voltaire's mistake in stating that Hamilton was 
 born at Caen, in his Catalogue des Ecrivains du Siicle de Leuis XIV. 
 
 t That historian states that the king (Charles I.) deprived several 
 papists of their military commissions, and, among others, Sir George 
 Hamilton, who, notwithstanding, served him with loyalty and un- 
 varying fidelity. 
 
4 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 
 
 restored to his throne, brought over to England several 
 Catholic officers and soldiers who had served abroad with 
 him and his brother, the Duke of York, and incorporated 
 them with his guards ; but the parliament having ob- 
 liged him to dismiss all officers who were Catholics, 
 the king permitted George Hamilton to take such as 
 were willing to accompany him to France, where Louis 
 XIV. formed them into a company of gens d'armes, 
 and being highly pleased with them, became himself 
 their captain, and made George Hamilton their captain- 
 lieutenant.* Whether Anthony belonged to this corps 
 I know not ; but this is certain, that he distinguished 
 himself particularly in his profession, and was advanced 
 to considerable posts in the French service.! 
 
 Anthony Hamilton's residence was now almost con- 
 stantly in France. Some years previous to this he had 
 been much in England, and, towards the close of 
 Charles II. 's reign, in Ireland, where so many of his 
 connections remained. J When James II. succeeded to 
 the throne, the door being then opened to the Roman 
 Catholics, he entered into the Irish army, where we find 
 him, in 1686, a lieutenant-colonel in Sir Thomas New- 
 comen's regiment. That he did not immediately hold 
 a higher rank there, may perhaps be attributed to the 
 recent accession of the king, his general absence from 
 Ireland, the advanced age of his uncle, the Duke of 
 Ormond, and, more than all, perhaps, to his Grace's early 
 disapprobation of James's conduct in Ireland, which dis- 
 played itself more fully afterwards, especially in the 
 ecclesiastical promotions. 
 
 * They were composed of English, Scotch, and Irish. 
 
 t It is not to be forgotten that, at this time, John Churchill, after- 
 wards Duke of Marlborough, served under Marshal Turenne, in the 
 same army. 
 
 X Hamilton had three sisters : the Countess of Grammont ; another 
 married to Matthew Forde, Esq., of the county of Wexford ; and 
 another to Sir Ponogh O'Brien, ancestor to the present Sir Edward 
 O'Brien- --a branch of the Thomond family. 
 
ANTHONY HAMILTON. 5 
 
 Henry, Earl of Clarendon, son to the lord-chancellor, 
 was at that time lord-lieutenant of Ireland, and appears, 
 notwithstanding his general distrust and dislike of the 
 Catholics, to have held Anthony Hamilton in much esti- 
 mation : he speaks of his knowledge of, and constant 
 attention to, the duties of his profession ; his probity, 
 and the dependence that was to be placed on him, in 
 preference to others of the same religious persuasion, 
 and, in October, 1686, wrote to the Earl of Sunderland 
 respecting him as follows : " I have only this one thing 
 more to trouble your lordship with at present, concerning 
 Colonel Anthony Hamilton, to get him a commission to 
 command as colonel, though he is but lieutenant-colonel 
 to Sir Thomas Newcomen, in regard of the commands 
 he has had abroad: and I am told it is often done in 
 France, which makes me hope it will not be counted 
 an unreasonable request. I would likewise humbly rec- 
 commend to make Colonel Anthony Hamilton a privy- 
 councillor here." * Lord Clarendon's recommendations 
 were ultimately successful : Hamilton was made a privy- 
 councillor in Ireland, and had a pension of ;^200 a 
 year on the Irish establishment ; and was appointed 
 governor of Limerick, in the room of Sir William King, 
 notwithstanding he had strongly opposed the new-modv 
 elling of the army by the furious Tyrconnel. In the 
 brief accounts which have been given of his life it is said 
 that he had a regiment of infantry ; but though this is 
 very probable, there is no mention whatever of his com- 
 manding a regiment in the lists published of King James's 
 army, which are supposed to be very accurate : he is in- 
 deed set down among the general officers. Lord Clar- 
 endon, in one of his letters to the lord-treasurer, states : 
 "That the news of the day was that Colonel Russell 
 was to be lieutenant-colonel to the Duke of Ormond's 
 regiment, and that Colonel Anthony Hamilton was to 
 
 * Cliapel-Izod, July 11, 1686. 
 
6 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 
 
 have Russell's regiment, and that Mr. Luttrell was to be 
 lieutenant-colonel to Sir Thomas Newcomen, in the 
 place of Anthony Hamilton. * 
 
 It is not known whether Anthony was present at the 
 battle of the Boyne, or of Aughrim : his brother John 
 was killed at the latter ; and Richard, who was a lieu- 
 tenant-general, led on the cavalry with uncommon gal- 
 lantry and spirit at the Boyne : it is to be wished that 
 his candor and integrity had equalled his courage ; but 
 he acted with great duplicity ; and King William's 
 contemptuous echoing back his word to him, when he 
 declared something on his honor ^ is well known, f He 
 is frequently mentioned by Lord Clarendon, but by no 
 means with the same approbation as his brother. After 
 the total overthrow of James's affairs in Ireland, the two 
 brothers finally quitted these kingdoms, and retired to 
 France. Richard lived much with the Cardinal de 
 Bouillon, who was the great protector of the Irish in 
 France, and kept (what must have been indeed highly 
 consolatory to many an emigrant of condition) a magnif- 
 icent table, which has been recorded in the most glowing 
 and grateful terms, by that gay companion, and cele- 
 brated lover of good cheer, Philippe de Coulanges, who 
 occasionally mentions the "amiable Richard Hamil- 
 ton" J as one of the Cardinal's particular intimates. 
 Anthony, who was regarded particularly as a man of 
 letters and elegant talents, resided almost entirely at St. 
 Germain : solitary walks in the forest of that place 
 occupied his leisure hours in the morning ; and poetical 
 pursuits, or agreeable society, engaged the evening: but 
 much of his time seems to have rolled heavily along ; his 
 sister, Madame de Grammont, living more at court, or in 
 Paris, than always suited his inclinations or his conve- 
 nience. His great resource at St. Germain was the 
 
 * Dublin Castle, October 23, 1686. 
 
 t This anecdote has been erroneously recorded of Anthony. 
 
 X So Coulanges calls him. 
 
ANTHOKTY HAMILTON. ? 
 
 family of the Duke of Berwick (son of James II.) : that 
 nobleman appears to have been amiable in private life, 
 and his attachment to Hamilton was steady and sincere. 
 The Duchess of Berwick was also his friend. It is nec- 
 essary to mention this lady particularly, as well as her 
 sisters : they were the daughters of Henry Bulkeley, son 
 to the first viscount of that name : their father had been 
 master of the household to Charles : their mother was 
 I^ady Sophia Stewart, sister to the beautiful Duchess of 
 Richmond, so conspicuous in the Grammont Memoirs. 
 The sisters of the Duchess of Berwick were Charlotte, 
 married to Lord Clare,* Henrietta and Laura. They all 
 occupy a considerable space in Hamilton's correspond- 
 ence, and the last two are the ladies so often addressed 
 as the Mademoiselles B. ; they are almost the constant 
 subjects of Hamilton's verses ; and it is recorded that he 
 was a particular admirer of Henrietta Bulkeley ; but 
 their union would have been that of hunger and thirst, 
 for both were very poor and very illustrious : their junc- 
 tion would, of course, have militated against every rule 
 of common prudence. To the influence of this lady, 
 particularly, we are indebted for one or two of Hamilton's 
 agreeable novels : she had taste enough to laugh at the 
 extravagant stories then so much in fashion, "plus 
 arabes qu'en Arabic," f as Hamilton says ; and he, in 
 compliance with her taste, and his own, soon put the 
 fashionable tales to flight, by the publication of the 
 Quatre Facardins, and, more especially, La Fleur 
 cfEpine. Some of the introductory verses to these pro- 
 ductions are written with peculiar ease and grace ; and 
 are highly extolled, and even imitated, by Voltaire. La 
 Harpe praises the Fleur d'' Epine^ as the work of an orig- 
 
 * (O'Brien) ancestor to Marshal Thomond. Lord Clare was killed at 
 the battle of Ramillies. 
 
 t They were wretched imitations of some of the Persian and Arabian 
 tales, in which everything was distorted, and rendered absurd and pre- 
 posterous. 
 
8 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Oli' 
 
 inal genius : I do not think, liowever, that they are 
 much relished in England, probably because very ill 
 translated. Another of his literary productions was the 
 novel called Le Belier, which he wrote on the following 
 occasion : Louis XIV. had presented to the Countess of 
 Grammont (whom he highly esteemed) a remarkably ele- 
 gant small country house in the park of Versailles : this 
 house became so fashionable a resort, and brought such 
 constant visitors, * that the Count de Grammont said, in 
 his usual way, he would present the king with a list of 
 all the persons he was obliged to entertain there, as more 
 suited to his Majesty's purse than his own : the Countess 
 wished to change the name of the place from the vulgar 
 appellation of Le Moulineau into that of Pentalie; and 
 Hamilton, in his novel, wrote a history of a giant, an 
 enchantment, and a princess, to commemorate her reso- 
 lution. It has however happened that the giant Mouli- 
 neau has had the advantage in the course of time ; for 
 the estate, which is situated near Meudon, upon the 
 Seine, retains its original and popular designation. 
 
 About the year 1704, Hamilton turned his attention to 
 collecting the memoirs of his brother-in-law, the Count 
 de Grammont, as we may conjecture, from an epistle be- 
 ginning " Honneur des rives ^loigndes " f being written 
 towards the close of the above year : it is dated, or sup- 
 posed to be so, from the banks of the Garonne. Among 
 other authors whom Hamilton at first proposes to Gram- 
 mont as capable of writing his life (though, on reflection, 
 he thinks them not suited to it) is Boileau, whose genius 
 
 * " Le bel air de la cour est d'aller ^ la jolie maison, que le roi a don- 
 nde 3. la Comtesse de Gramont dans le Pare de Versailles. C'est tellement 
 la mode, que c'est une honte de n'y avoir pas dt6. La Comtesse de 
 Gramont se porte tr6s-bien : il est certain que le roi la traite a merveille. 
 Paris, le 5 AoAt, 1703." — Lettre de Madame de Coulanges & Madame 
 de Grignan. 
 
 t A translation of this epistle, which, is a complete sketch of the 
 Grammont Memoirs, is subjoined to this Biographical Sketch of the 
 Author. 
 
ANTHONY HAMltTON. 9 
 
 he professes to admire ; but adds that his muse has some- 
 what of malignity ; and that such a muse might caress 
 with one hand and satirize him with the other. This let- 
 ter was sent by Hamiltop to Boileau, who answered him 
 with great politeness ; but, at the same time that he 
 highly extolled the epistle to Grammont, he, very nat- 
 urally, seemed anxious to efface any impression which 
 such a representation of his satiric vein might make on 
 the Count's mind, and accordingly added a few compli- 
 mentary verses to him : this letter is dated Paris, 8th Feb- 
 ruary, 1705. About the same time, another letter was 
 written to Hamilton on the subject of the Epistle to 
 Grammont, by La Chapelle, who also seemed desirous 
 that his life should be given to the public, but was much 
 perplexed which of the most celebrated ancients to com- 
 pare the Count to. Mecsenas first presented himself to 
 his imagination : absurdl}'' enough, in my opinion ; foi 
 there was not a trace of similitude between the two char- 
 acters. This, however, afforded him some opportunity, 
 as he thought, of discovering a resemblance between 
 Horace and Hamilton, in which he equally failed. Pe- 
 tronius is then brought forward as affording some com- 
 parison to the Count ; a man of pleasure, giving up the 
 day to sleep and the night to entertainment ; but then, 
 adds La Chapelle, it will be suggested that, such is the 
 perpetual activity of the Count of Grammont' s mind, he 
 may be said to sleep neither night nor day ; and if Pe- 
 tronius died, the Count seems determined never to die at 
 all. (He was at this time about eighty-five years of age.) 
 It may well be supposed that all this, though now per- 
 fectly vapid and uninteresting, was extremely flattering 
 to Grammont ; and the result was that he very much 
 wished to have his life, or part of it, at least, given to the 
 .public. Hamilton, who had been so long connected 
 with him, and with whose agreeable talents he was now 
 so familiarized, was, on every account, singled out by 
 him as the person who could best introduce him histori- 
 
10 EIoaRAPHlCAL SKfil^CH OP 
 
 cally to the public. It is ridiculous to mention Gram- 
 mont as the author of his own Memoirs : his excellence, 
 as a man of wit, was entirely limited to conversation. 
 Bussy Rabutiii, who knew him perfectly, states that he 
 wrote almost worse than any one. If this was said, and 
 very truly, of him in his early days, it can hardly be 
 imagined that he would, when between eighty and 
 ninety years of age, commence a regular, and, in point 
 of style, most finished pomposition. Besides, indepen- 
 dent of everything else, what man would so outrage all 
 decorum as to call himself the admiration of the age ? 
 for so is Grammont extolled in the Memoirs, with a 
 variety of other encomiastic expressions ; although, per- 
 haps, such vanity has not been without example. Ham- 
 ilton, it is true, says that he acts as Grammont' s secre- 
 tary, and only holds the pen, whilst the Count dictates 
 to him such particulars of his life as were the most 
 singular and least known. This is said with great 
 modesty, and, as to part of the work, perhaps with great 
 truth : it requires, however, some explanation. Gram- 
 mont was more than twenty years older than Hamilton ; 
 consequently, the earlier part of his life could only have 
 been known, or was best known, to the latter from re- 
 peated conversations, and the long intimacy which sub- 
 sisted between them. Whether Grammont formally 
 dictated the events of his younger days, or not, is of 
 little consequence : from his general character, it is prob- 
 able that he did not. However, the whole account of 
 such adventures as he was engaged in, from his leaving 
 home to his interview with Cardinal Mazarin (excepting 
 the character of Monsieur de Senantes, and Matta, who 
 was well known to Hamilton), the relation of the siege 
 of Lerida, the description of Gregorio Brice, and the 
 inimitable discovery of his own magnificent suit of 
 clothes on the ridiculous bridegroom at Abbeville ; all 
 such particulars must have been again and again re- 
 peated to Hamilton by Grammont, and may therefore 
 
ANTHONY HAMILTON. 11 
 
 be fairly grounded on the Count's authority. The char- 
 acters of the court of Charles II., and its history, are 
 to be ascribed to Hamilton : from his residence, at va- 
 rious times, in the court of London, his connection with 
 the Ormond family, not to mention others, he must have 
 been well acquainted with them. Lady Chesterfield, 
 who may be regarded almost as the heroine of the work, 
 was his cousin-german. * But, although the history 
 altogether was written by Hamilton, it may not perhaps 
 be known to every reader that Grammont himself sold 
 the manuscript for fifteen hundred livres ; and when it 
 was brought to Fontenelle, then censor of the press, he 
 refused to license it, from respect to the character of the 
 Count, which, he thought, was represented as that of a 
 gambler, and an unprincipled one, too. In fact, Gram- 
 mont, like many an old gentleman, seems to have recol- 
 lected the gaieties of his youth with more complaisance 
 than was necessary, and has drawn them in^ pretty 
 strong colors in that part of the work which is more 
 particularly his own. He laughed at poor Fontenelle' s 
 scruples, and complained to the chancellor, who forced 
 the censor to acquiesce : the license was granted, and 
 the Count put the whole of the money, or the best part 
 of it, in his pocket, though he acknowledged the work 
 to be Hamilton's. This is exactly correspondent to his 
 general character : when money was his object, he had 
 little, or rather no delicacy. 
 
 The History of Grammont may be considered as 
 unique : there is nothing like it in any language. For 
 drollery, knowledge of the world, various satire, gen- 
 eral utility, united with great vivacity of composition, 
 Gil Bias is unrivalled : but, as a merely agreeable book, 
 the Memoirs of Grammont perhaps deserve that char- 
 acter more than any which was ever written : it is pleas- 
 
 *She was born at the castle of Kilkenny, July, 1640, as appears 
 from Carte's life of her father, the Duke of Ormond. 
 
12 BIOGRAPHICAL SKKTCH OF 
 
 antry throughout, and pleasantry of the best sort, un- 
 forced, graceful, and engaging. Some French critic 
 has justly observed, that, if any book were to be selected 
 as affording the truest specimen of perfect French gaiety, 
 the Memoirs of Grammont would be selected in prefer- 
 ence to all others. This has a Frenchman said of the 
 work of a foreigner : but that foreigner possessed much 
 genius, had lived from his youth, not only in the best 
 society of France, but with the most singular and agree, 
 able man that France could produce. Still, however, 
 though Grammont and Hamilton were of dispositions 
 very different, the latter must have possessed talents pe- 
 culiarly brilliant, and admirably adapted to coincide 
 with, and display those of his brother-in-law to the 
 utmost advantage. Gibbon extols the ' ' ease and purity 
 of Hamilton's inimitable style ; " and in this he is sup-» 
 ported by Voltaire, although he adds the censure, that 
 the Grammont Memoirs are, in point of materials, the 
 most trifling ; he might also in truth have said, the most 
 improper. The manners of the court of Charles II. 
 were, to the utmost, profligate and abandoned : yet in 
 what colors have they been drawn by Hamilton ? The 
 elegance of his pencil has rendered them more seductive 
 and dangerous, than if he had more faithfully copied the 
 originals. From such a mingled mass of grossness of 
 language, and of conduct, one would have turned away 
 with disgust and abhorrence ; but Hamilton was, to use 
 the words of his admirer, Lord Orford, ' ' superior to the 
 indelicacy of the court," whose vices he has so agreeably 
 depicted ; and that superiority has sheltered such vices 
 from more than half the oblivion which would now have 
 forever concealed them. 
 
 The Count de Grammont died in 1707. Some years 
 after the publication of his Memoirs, Hamilton was en- 
 gaged in a very different work : he translated Pope's 
 Essay on Criticism into French, and, as it should seem, 
 so much to that great poet's satisfaction, that he wrote a 
 
ANTHONY HAMILTON. 13 
 
 very polite letter of thanks to him, which is inserted in 
 Pope's Correspondence. Hamilton's Essay was, I be- 
 lieve, never printed, though Pope warmly requested to 
 have that permission : the reign of lyouis XIV, had now 
 ceased ; and, for several years before his death, the 
 character of the old court of that prince had ceased 
 also : profligacy and gaiety had given way to devotion 
 and austerity. Of Hamilton's friends and literary ac- 
 quaintance few were left : the Duke of Berwick was em- 
 ployed in the field, or at Versailles : some of the ladies, 
 however, continued at St. Germain ; and in their society, 
 particularly that of his niece, the Countess of Stafford 
 (in whose name he carried on a lively correspondence 
 with Lady Mary Wortley Montague), he passed much 
 of his time. He occasionally indulged in poetical com- 
 positions of a style suited to his age and character ; and 
 when he was past seventy, he wrote that excellent copy 
 of verses, Sur V Usage de la Vie dans la Vieillesse; which, 
 for grace of style, justness and purity of sentiment, does 
 honor to his memory. 
 
 Hamilton died at St. Germain, in April, 1720, aged 
 about seventy-four. His death was pious and resigned. 
 From his poem, entitled Reflections*- he appears, like 
 some other authors, to have turned his mind, in old age, 
 entirely to those objects of sacred regard, which, sooner 
 or later, must engage the attention of every rational 
 
 * Voltaire, upon slight evidence, had imputed to him, at an earlier 
 period, sentiments of irreligion similar to his own : 
 
 Aupres d'eux le vif Hamilton, 
 Toujours arm^ d'un trait qui blesse, 
 Mddisait de I'humaine espSce, 
 Et mSme d'un peu mieux, dit-on. 
 
 But whether Voltaire had any better foundation for insinuating this 
 charge than the libertine tone of Hamilton's earlier works, joined to 
 his own wish to hold up a man of genius as a partisan of his own 
 opinions, must remain doubtful ; while it is certain that Hamilton, in 
 his latter years, sincerely followed the Christian religion. 
 
14 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 
 
 mind. To poetry he bids an eternal adieu, in language 
 which breathes.no diminution of genius, at the moment 
 that he forever recedes from the poetical character. But 
 he aspired to a better. The following lines are interest- 
 ing, for they evidently allude to his own situation ; and 
 may every one, who, from a well-directed, or mistaken, 
 but pure and generous zeal, is, through the course of a 
 long life, assailed by the temptations pf poverty, find that 
 consolation in an innocence of manners, which Hamilton 
 so well invoked, and, it is to be hoped, not altogether in 
 vain : 
 
 " Fille du del, pure Innocence ! 
 Asile contre tous nos maux, 
 Vrai centre du parfait repos ! 
 Heureux celui, dont la Constance, 
 Vous conservant dans I'abondance, 
 Ne vous perd point, dans les travaux 
 D'une longue et triste indigence ! " 
 
 Whatever were Hamilton's errors, his general chai, 
 acter was respectable. He has been represented as grave, 
 and even dull, in society ; the very reverse, in short, of 
 what he appears in his Memoirs : but this is probably 
 exaggerated. Unquestionably, he had not the unequalled 
 vivacity of the Count de Grammont in conversation ; as 
 Grammont was, on the other hand, inferior, in all re- 
 spects, to Hamilton when the pen was in his hand ; the 
 latter was, however, though reserved in a large society, 
 particularly agreeable in a more select one. Some of 
 his letters remain, in which he alludes to his want of that 
 facility at impromptu which gave such brilliancy to the 
 conversation of some of his brother wits and contempo- 
 raries. But, while we admit the truth of this, let it be 
 remembered, at the same time, that when he wrote this, 
 he was by no means young ; that he criticised his own 
 defects with severity ; that he was poor, and living in 
 a court which itself subsisted on the alms of another. 
 Amidst such circumstances, extemporary gaiety cannot 
 
ANTHONY HAMILTON. 15 
 
 always be found. I can suppose, that the Duchess of 
 Maine, who laid claim to the character of a patroness of 
 wit, and, like many who assert such claims, was very 
 troublesome, very self-sufficient, and very exigeante, 
 might not always have found that geUeral superiority, or 
 even transient lustre, which she expected in Hamilton's 
 society : yet, considering the great difference of their age 
 and situation, this circumstance will not greatly impeach 
 his talents for conversation. But the work of real genius 
 must forever remain ; and of Hamilton's genius, the 
 Grammont Memoirs will always continue a beauteous 
 and graceful monument. To that monument may also 
 be added, the candor, integrity, and unassuming virtues 
 of the amiable author. 
 
DE GRAMMONT, 
 
 EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRSMMONT, 
 
 BY ANTHONY HAMHTON, 
 IN HIS OWN AND HIS BROTHER'S NAME.* 
 
 Oh ! tliou, the glory of the shore, 
 
 Where Corisanda f saw the day, 
 The blessed abode of Menodore ; 
 
 Thou whom the fates have doom'd to stray 
 
 Far from that pleasant shore away, 
 On which the sun, at parting, smiles, 
 
 Ere, gliding o'er the Pyrenees, 
 
 Spain's tawny visages he sees. 
 And sinks behind the happy isles ; 
 
 * It is dated from Grammont's villa of Semeat, upon the banks of the 
 Garonne, where it would seem Philibert and Anthony Hamilton were 
 then residing. 
 
 t Corisande and Menadam-e were both ancestresses of the Count de 
 Grammont, and celebrated for beauty.-' 
 (16) 
 
EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 17 
 
 Thou, who of mighty monarchs' court 
 So long hast shone unerring star, 
 
 Unmatch'd in earnest or in sport, 
 In love, in frolic, and in war ! 
 
 To you, sir, this invocation must needs be addressed ; 
 for whom else could it suit ? But you may be puzzled 
 even to guess who invokes you, since you have heard 
 nothing of us for an age, and since so long an absence 
 may have utterly banished us from your recollection. 
 Yet we venture to flatter ourselves it may be otherwise. 
 
 For who was e'er forgot by thee? 
 
 Witness, at I^^rida, Don Brice,* 
 
 And Barcelona's lady nice, 
 Donna Ragueza, fair and free ; 
 Witness too Boniface at Breda, 
 
 And Catalonia and Gasconne, 
 
 From Bordeaux walls to far Bayonne, 
 From Perpignan to Pueycreda, 
 
 And we your friends of fair Garonne. 
 
 Even in these distant and peaceful regions, we hear, 
 by daily report, that you are more agreeable, more une- 
 qualled, and more tnarvellous than ever. Our country 
 neighbors, great news-mongers, apprised by their corre- 
 spondents of the lively sallies with which you surprise 
 the court, often ask us if you are not the grandson of that 
 famous Chevalier de Grammont, of whom such wonders 
 are recorded in the History of the Civil Wars ? Indignant 
 that your identity should be disputed in a country where 
 your name is so well known, we had formed a plan of 
 giving some faint sketch of your merits and history. 
 
 * Don Brice is celebrated in the Memoirs, but Donna Ragueza does 
 not appear there. 
 2 
 
18 EPISTLE TO THE 
 
 But who were we, that we should attempt the task? 
 With talents naturally but indifferent, and now rusted by 
 long interruption of all intercourse with the court, how 
 were it possible for us to display taste and politeness, 
 excelling all that is to be found elsewhere, and which 
 yet must be attributes of those fit to make you theit 
 theme ? 
 
 Can mediocrity avail. 
 
 To follow forth such high emprize ? 
 
 In vain our zeal to please you tries. 
 Where noblest talents well might fail ; 
 Where loftiest bards might yield the pen, 
 
 And own 'twere rash to dare, 
 'Tis meet that country gentlemen 
 
 Be silent in despair. 
 
 We therefore limited our task to registering all 
 the remarkable particulars of your life which our mem- 
 ory could supply, in order to communicate those 
 materials to the most skilful writers of the metropolis. 
 But the choice embarrassed us. Sometimes we thought 
 of addressing our Memoirs to the Academy, persuaded 
 that as you had formerly sustained a logical thesis,* you 
 must know enough of the art to qualify you for being 
 received a member of that illustrious body, and praised 
 from head to foot upon the day of admission. Some- 
 times, again, we thought, that, as, to all appearance, no 
 one will survive to pronounce your eulogium when you 
 are no more, it ought to be delivered in the way of 
 anticipation by the reverend Father Massillon or De La 
 Rue. But we considered that the first of these expedi- 
 ents did not suit your rank, and that, as to the second, 
 it would be against all form to swathe you up while 
 alive in the tropes of a funeral sermon. The celebrated 
 
 * I presume, when he was educated for the church. 
 
COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 19 
 
 Boileau next occurred to us, and we believed at first 
 he was the very person we wanted ; but a moment's 
 reflection satisfied us that he would not answer our pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Sovereign of wit, he sits alone, 
 
 And joys him in his glory won ; 
 
 Or if, in history to live, 
 
 The first of monarchs' feats he give, 
 
 Attentive Phoebus guides his hand, 
 
 And Memory's daughters round him stand ; 
 
 He might consign, and only he. 
 
 Thy fame to immortality. 
 
 Yet, vixen still, his muse would mix 
 
 Her playful but malicious tricks, 
 
 Which friendship scarce might smother. 
 So gambols the ambiguous cat. 
 Deals with one paw a velvet pat, 
 
 And scratches you with t'other. 
 
 The next expedient which occurred to us was, to have 
 your portrait displayed at full length in that miscellany 
 which lately gave us such an excellent letter of the illus- 
 trious chief of your house. Here is the direction we 
 obtained for that purpose : 
 
 Not far from that superb abode 
 
 Where Paris bids her monarchs dwell, 
 
 Retiring from the lyouvre's road, 
 The office opes its fruitful cell, 
 In choice of authors nothing nice, 
 To every work, of every price. 
 However rhymed, however writ. 
 Especially to folks of wit. 
 When by rare chance on such they hii. 
 
20 EPISTLE TO THE 
 
 From thence each month, in gallant quire, 
 Flit sonneteers in tuneful sallies, 
 All tender heroes of their allies, 
 
 By verse familiar who aspire 
 
 To seize the honor' d name of poet. 
 
 Some scream on mistuned pipes and whistles, 
 Pastorals and amorous epistles ; 
 
 Some, twining worthless wreath, bestow it 
 On bards and warriors of their own, 
 In camp and chronicle unknown. 
 Here, never rare, though ever new. 
 
 Riddle, in veil fantastic screening, 
 Presents, in his mysterious mask, 
 A useless, yet laborious task, 
 To loungers who have nought to do. 
 
 But puzzle out his senseless meaning. 
 'Tis here, too, that in transports old. 
 
 New elegies are monthly moaning ; 
 Here, too, the dead their lists unfold, 
 
 Telling of heirs and widows groaning ; 
 Telling what sums were left to glad them, 
 
 And here in copper-plate they shine. 
 
 Showing their features, rank, and lin^, 
 And all their arms, and whence they h-ad them. 
 
 We soon saw it would be impossible to crowd you, 
 with propriety, into so miscellaneous a miscellany : and 
 these various difficulties at length reconciled us to our 
 original intention of attempting the adventure ourselves, 
 despite of our insufficiency, and of calling to our assist- 
 ance two persons whom we have not the honor to know, 
 but some of whose compositions have reached us. In 
 order to propitiate them by some civilities, one of us (he 
 who wears at his ear that pearl, which, you used to say, 
 his mother had hung there out of devotion) began to 
 invoke them, as you shall hear. 
 
COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 21 
 
 O ! thou of whom the easy strain 
 Enchanted by its happy sway, 
 
 Sometimes the margin of the Seine, 
 
 Sometimes the fair and fertile plain, 
 Where winds the Maine her lingering way ; 
 Whether the light and classic lay 
 
 Lie at the feet of fair Clim^ne ; 
 Or if, La Fare, thou rather choose 
 The mood of the theatric muse, 
 And raise again, the stage to tread, 
 Renowned Greeks and Romans dead ; 
 Attend ! — And thou, too, lend thine aid, 
 Chaulieu ! on whom, in raptur'd hour, 
 Phoebus breath' d energy and power ; 
 Come both, and each a stanza place, 
 The structure that we raise to grace ; 
 To gild our heavy labors o'er. 
 Your aid and influence we implore. 
 
 The invocation was scarce fairly written out, when 
 we found the theatric muse a little misplaced, as neither 
 of the gentlemen invoked appeared to have written any- 
 thing falling under her department. This reflection 
 embarrassed us ; and we were meditating what turn 
 should be given to the passage, when behold ! there ap- 
 peared at once, in the midst of the room, a form that 
 surprised without alarming us : — it was that of your 
 philosopher, the inimitable St. Evremond.* None of 
 the tumult which usually announces the arrival of ghosts 
 of consequence preceded this apparition. 
 
 * With whom, as appears from the Memoirs, the Count, -while resid- 
 ing in London, maintained the closest intimacy. St. Evremond was 
 delighted with his wit, vivacity, and latitude of principle : He called 
 him his hero ; wrote verses in his praise ; in short, took as warm an 
 interest in him as an Epicurean philosopher can do in any one but him- 
 self. 
 
22 EPISTLE TO THE 
 
 The sky was clear and still o'erliead, 
 
 No earthquake shook the regions under, 
 No subterraneous murmur dread, 
 
 And not a single clap of thunder. 
 He was not clothed in rags, or tatter' d, 
 
 Ivike that same grim and grisly spectre, 
 Who, ere Philippi's contest clatter' d,. 
 
 The dauntless Brutus came to hector : 
 Nor was he clad like ghost of I^aius, 
 
 Who, when against his son he pled, 
 
 Nor worse nor better wardrobe had, 
 Than scanty mantle of Emaeus : 
 
 Nor did his limbs a shroud encumber, 
 lyike that which vulgar sprites enfold. 
 When, gliding from their ghostly hold. 
 
 They haunt our couch, and scare our slumber. 
 
 By all this we saw the ghost's intention was not to 
 frighten us. He was dressed exactly as when we had 
 first the pleasure of his acquaintance in London. He 
 had the same air of mirth, sharpened and chastened by 
 satirical expression, and even the same dress, which 
 undoubtedly he had preserved for this visit. Lest you 
 doubt it — 
 
 His ancient studying-cap he wore, 
 Well tann'd, of good Morocco hide ; * 
 
 The eternal double loop before. 
 That lasted till its master died : 
 
 In fine, the self-same equipage, 
 As when, with lovely Mazarin, 
 
 * One of St. Evremond's peculiarities was, that, instead of a wig, the 
 universal dress of the time, he chose to wear his own gray hair, covered 
 with the leathern cap described in the text. 
 
COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 23 
 
 Still boasting of the name of Sage, 
 
 He drowned, in floods of generous wine, 
 
 The dulness and the frost of age. 
 And daily paid the homage due. 
 To charms that seem'd forever new. 
 
 As he arrived unannounced, he placed himself be- 
 tween us without ceremony, but could not forbear 
 smiling at the respect with which we withdrew our 
 chairs, under pretence of not crowding him. I had al- 
 ways heard that it was necessary to question folks of the 
 other world, in order to engage them in conversation ; 
 but he soon showed us the contrary ; for, casting his eyes 
 on the paper which we had left on the table, — " I ap- 
 prove, ' ' said he, ' ' of your plan, and I come to give you 
 some advice for the execution ; but I cannot comprehend 
 the choice you have made of these two gentlemen as 
 assistants. I admit, it is impossible to write more 
 beautifully than they both do ; but do you not see that 
 they write nothing but by starts, and that their subjects 
 are as extraordinary as their caprice ? 
 
 Love-lorn and gouty, one soft swain 
 Rebels, amid his rhymes profane, 
 
 Against specific water-gruel ; 
 Or chirrups, in his ill-tim'd lay, 
 The joys of freedom and tokay, 
 
 When Celimena's false or cruel : 
 The other, in his lovely strain, 
 Fresh from the font of Hippocrene, 
 
 Rich in the charms of sound and sense, 
 Throws all his eloquence away. 
 And vaunts, the live-long lingering day, 
 
 The languid bliss of indolence. 
 
 "Give up thoughts of them, if you please ; for though 
 
24 bpistle to the 
 
 you have invoked them, they won't come the sooner to 
 yoilr succor : arrange, as well as you can, the materials 
 you had collected for others, and never mind the order 
 of time or events : I would advise you, on the contrary, 
 to choose the latter years of your hero for your principal 
 subject : his earlier adventures are too remote to be al- 
 together so interesting in the present day. Make some 
 short and light observation on the resolution he has 
 formed of never dying, and upon the power he seems 
 to possess of carrying it into execution. * 
 
 That art by which his life he has warded. 
 And death so often has retarded, 
 
 'Tis strange to me, 
 
 The world's envy 
 Has ne'er with jaundiced eye regarded : 
 But, mid all anecdotes he tells 
 Of warriors, statesmen, and of belles. 
 
 With whom he fought, intrigued, and slept, 
 That rare and precious mystery, 
 His art of immortality, 
 
 Is the sole secret he has kept. 
 
 " Do not embarrass your brains in seeking ornaments, 
 or turns of eloquence, to paint his character : that would 
 resemble strained panegyric ; and a faithful portrait will 
 be his best praise. Take care how you attempt to re- 
 port his stories, or bans mots : The subject is too great 
 for you.t Try only, in relating his adventures, to color 
 over his failings, and give relief to his merits. 
 
 * The Count de Grammont, in his old age, recovered, contrary to the 
 expectation of his physicians, and of all the world, from one or two 
 dangerous illnesses, which led him often to say, in his lively manner, 
 that he had formed a resolution never to die. This declaration is the 
 subject of much raillery through the whole epistle. 
 
 t Bussi-Rabutin assiires us, that much of the merit of Grammont's 
 
COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 25 
 
 'Twas thus, by easy route of yore, 
 
 My hero to the skies I bore. * 
 
 For your part, sketch how beauties tender, 
 
 Did to his vows in crowds surrender : 
 
 Show him forth-following the banners 
 
 Of one who match' d the goddess-born : 
 Show how in peace his active manners 
 
 Held dull repose in hate and scorn : 
 Show how at court he made a figure. 
 Taught lessons to the best intriguer. 
 Till, without fawning, like his neighbors, 
 His prompt address foil'd all their labors. 
 
 bons mots consisted in his peculiar mode of delivering them, although 
 his reputation as a wit -was universally established. Few of those which 
 have been preserved are susceptible of translation ; but the following 
 may be taken as a specimen : 
 
 One day when Charles II. dined in state, he made Grammont remark, 
 that he was served upon the knee ; a mark of respect not common at 
 other courts. "I thank your majesty for the explanation," answered 
 Grammont; "I thought they were begging pardon for giving you so 
 bad a dinner." Louis XIV., playing at tric-trac, disputed a throw with 
 his opponent. The bystanders were appealed to, and could not decide 
 the cause. It was referred to Grammont, who, from the farther end of 
 the gallery, declared against the king. "But you have not heard the 
 case," said Louis. "Ah, sire," replied the Count, "if your majesty had 
 but a shadow of right, would these gentlemen have failed to decide in 
 your favor?" 
 
 * St. Evremond, whose attachment to Grammont amounted to enthu- 
 siasm, composed the following epitaph upon him, made, however, long 
 before the Count's death, in which he touches many of the topics which 
 he here is supposed to recommend to Hamilton. 
 
 Here lies the Count de Grammont, stranger ! 
 
 Old Evremond's eternal theme : 
 He who shared Condi's every danger, 
 
 May envy from the bravest claim. 
 Wouldst know his art in courtly Ufe ? 
 It match'd his courage in the strife. 
 Wouldst ask his merit with the fair ! — 
 Who ever lived his equal there ? 
 His wit to scandal never stooping ; 
 His mirth ne'er to buffoon'ry drooping : 
 
26 EPISTLE TO THE 
 
 Canvas and colors change once more, 
 
 And paint him forth in various light 4 
 The scourge of coxcomb and of bore ; 
 Live record of lampoons in score, 
 
 And chronicle of love and fight ; 
 Redoubted for his plots so rare, 
 By every happy swain and fair ; 
 Driver of rivals to despair ; 
 
 Sworn enemy to all long speeches ; 
 I/ively and brilliant, frank and free ; 
 Author of many a repartee : 
 Remember, over all, that he 
 
 Was most renown' d for storming breaches. 
 Forget not the white charger's prance, 
 
 On which a daring boast sustaining, 
 He came before a prince of France, 
 
 Victorious in Alsace campaigning.* 
 Tell, too, by what enchanting art, 
 Or of the head, or of the heart. 
 
 If skill or courage gain'd his aim ; 
 When to Saint Albans' foul disgrace, 
 Despite his colleague's grave grimace, 
 And a fair nymph's seducing face, 
 He carried off gay Buckingham, t 
 
 Keeping his character's marked plan, 
 
 As spouse, sire, gallant, and old man. 
 
 But went he to confession duly ? 
 
 At matins, mass, and vespers steady ? 
 Fervent in prayer ? — to tell you truly. 
 He left these cares to my good lady. 
 We may once more see a Turenne ; 
 
 Cond^ himself may have a double ; 
 But to make Grammont o'er again. 
 Would cost dame Nature too much trouble. 
 * Grammont had promised to the Dauphin, then commanding the 
 army in Alsace, that he would join him before the end of the campaign 
 mormted on a white horse, 
 t Grammont is supposed to have had no small share in determining 
 
COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 27 
 
 Speak all these feats, and simply speak — 
 To soar too high were forward freak — 
 
 To keep Parnassus' skirts discreetest ; 
 For 'tis not on the very peak, 
 
 That middling voices sound the sweetest. 
 Each tale in easy language dress, 
 
 With natural expression closing ; 
 Let every rhyme fall in express-; 
 Avoid poetical excess. 
 
 And shun low miserable piosing : 
 Doat not on modish style, I pray. 
 
 Nor yet condemn it, with rude passion ; 
 There is a place near the Marais, 
 Where mimicry of antique lay 
 
 Seems to be creeping into fashion. 
 This new and much admired way, 
 
 Of using Gothic words and spelling, 
 Costs but the price of Rabelais, 
 
 Or Ronsard's sonnets, to excel in. 
 With half a dozen ekes and ayes. 
 Or some such antiquated phrase. 
 At small expense you'll lightly hit 
 On this new strain of ancient wit. 
 
 We assured the spirit we would try to profit by this 
 last advice, but that his caution against falling into the 
 languor of a prosing narration appeared to us more diffi- 
 cult to follow. "Once for all," said he, "do your 
 best ; folks that write for the Count de Grammont have 
 a right to reckon on some indulgence. At any rate, 
 you are only known through him, and, apparently, what 
 
 the Duke of Buckingham, then Charles the Second's favorite minister, 
 to break the triple alliance ; for which purpose he jvent to France with 
 the Count, in spite of all that the other English ministers, and even 
 his mistress, the celebrated Countess of Shrewsbury, could do to prevent 
 him. 
 
28 EPISTtE TO THE 
 
 you are about will not increase the public curiosity on 
 your own account. I must end my visit, ' ' lie continued, 
 ' ' and by my parting wishes convince my hero that I 
 continue to interest myself in his behalf. ' ' 
 
 Still may his wit's unceasing charms 
 
 Blaze forth, his numerous days adorning ; 
 May he renounce the din of arms, 
 
 And sleep some longer of a morning : 
 Still be it upon false alarms, 
 
 That chaplains come to lecture o'er him • * 
 Still prematurely, as before. 
 That all the doctors give him o'er, 
 
 And king and court are weeping for hirru 
 May such repeated feats convince 
 
 The king he lives but to attend him ; 
 And may he, like a grateful prince. 
 
 Avail him of the hint they lend him : 
 Live long as Grammont's age, and longer. 
 
 Then learn his art still to grow younger. 
 
 Here ceased the ghostly Norman sage, 
 
 A clerk whom we as well as you rate 
 The choicest spirit of his age. 
 
 And heretofore your only curate : 
 Though not a wight, you see, his spectre 
 Doth, like a buried parson's, lecture. 
 Then off he glideth to the band 
 
 Of feal friends that hope to greet you, 
 But long may on the margin stand, 
 
 Of sable Styx, before they meet you. 
 
 * De Grammont having fallen seriously ill, at the age of seventy-five, 
 the king, who knew his free sentiments in reUgious matters, sent 
 Dangeau to give him ghostly advice. The Count, finding his errand, 
 turned to his wife, and cried out, "Countess, if you don't look to it, 
 Dangeau will cheat you of my conversion." 
 
COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 29 
 
 No need upon that theme to dwell, 
 
 Since none but you the cause can tell ; 
 
 Yet, if, when some half century more, 
 
 In health and glee, has glided o'er. 
 
 You find you, maugre all your strength, 
 
 Stretch' d out in woeful state at length, 
 
 And forced to Erebus to troop, 
 
 There shall you find the joyous group. 
 Carousing on the Stygian border ; 
 
 Waiting, with hollo and with whoop. 
 To dub you brother of their order : 
 
 There shall you find Dan Benserade, 
 Doughty Chapelle and Sarazine, 
 Voiture and Chaplain, gallants fine, 
 
 And he who ballad never made, 
 
 Nor rhymed without a flask of wine. 
 
 Adieu, sir Count, the world around 
 Who roam'd in quest of love and battle, 
 Of whose high merits fame did tattle. 
 
 As sturdy tilter, knight renown' d. 
 
 Before the warfare of the Fronde, 
 
 Should you again review Gironde, 
 
 Travelling in coach, by journeys slow, 
 You'll right hand mark a sweet chateau. 
 Which has few ornaments to show. 
 
 But deep, clear streams, that moat the spot, 
 
 'Tis there we dwell — forget us not ! 
 
 Think of us then, pray, sir, if, by chance, you should 
 take a fancy to revisit your fair mansion of Semeat. 
 In the meanwhile, permit us to finish this long letter ; 
 we have endeavored in vain to make something of it, by 
 varying our language and style — you see how our best 
 efforts fall below our subject. To succeed, it would be 
 necessary that he whom our fictions conjured up to our 
 assistance were actualljr among the living. But, alas ! 
 
8U EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 
 
 No more shall Evremond incite us, 
 That chronicler whom none surpasses. 
 
 Whether his grave or gay delight us ; 
 That favorite of divine Parnassus 
 
 Can find no ford in dark Cocytus : 
 From that sad river's fatal bourne, 
 Alone De Grammont can return. 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 As those who read only for amusement are, in my 
 opinion, more worthy of attention than those who open 
 a book merely to find fault, to the former I address my- 
 self, and for their entertainment commit the following 
 pages to press, without being in the least concerned 
 about the severe criticisms of the latter. I further 
 declare, that the order of time and disposition of the 
 facts, which give more trouble to the writer than pleas- 
 ure to the reader, shall not much embarrass me in these 
 Memoirs. It being my design to convey a just idea of 
 my hero, those circumstances which most tend to illus- 
 trate and distinguish his character shall find a place in 
 these fragments just as they present themselves to my 
 imagination, without paying any particular attention to 
 their arrangement. For, after all, what does it signify 
 
 m 
 
32 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 where the portrait is begun, provided the assemblage of 
 the parts forms a whole which perfectly expresses the 
 original? The celebrated Plutarch, who treats his 
 heroes as he does his readers, commences the life of the 
 one just as he thinks fit, and diverts the attention of the 
 other with digressions into antiquity, or agreeable pas- 
 sages of literature, which frequently have no reference 
 to the subject ; for instance, he tells us that Demetrius 
 Poliorcetes was far from being so tall as his father, 
 Antigonus ; and afterwards, that his reputed father, 
 Antigonus, was only his uncle } but this is not until he 
 has begun his life with a short account of his death, his 
 various exploits, his good and bad qualities ; and at last, 
 out of compassion to his failings, brings forward a com- 
 parison between him and the unfortunate Mark Antony. 
 
 In the I^ife of Numa Pompilius, he begins by a disser- 
 tation upon his preceptor Pythagoras ; and, as if he 
 thought the reader would be anxious to know whether , 
 it was the ancient philosopher, or one of the same name, 
 who, after being victorious at the Olympic games, went 
 full speed into Italy to teach Numa philosophy, and in- 
 struct him in the arts of government, he gives himself 
 much trouble to explain this difficulty, and, after all, 
 leaves it undetermined. 
 
 What I have said upon this subject is not meant to 
 reflect upon this historian, to whom, of all the ancients, 
 we are most obliged ; it is only intended to authorize 
 the manner in which I have treated a life far more ex- 
 traordinary than any of those he has transmitted to us. It 
 is my part to describe a man whose iaimitable character 
 casts a veil over those faults which I shall neither palli- 
 ate nor disguise ; a man distinguished by a mixture of 
 virtues and vices so closely linked together as in appear- 
 ance to form a necessary dependence, glowing with the 
 greatest beauty when united, shining with the brightest 
 lustre when opposed. 
 
 It is this indefinable brilliancy, which, in war, in love, 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 33 
 
 in gaming, and in the various stages of a long life, has 
 rendered the Count de Grammont the admiration of his 
 age, and the delight of every country wherein he has 
 displayed his engaging wit, dispensed his generosity and 
 magnificence, or practised his inconstancy : it is owing 
 to this that the sallies of a sprightly imagination have 
 produced those admirable bons-mots which have been 
 with universal applause transmitted to posterity. It is 
 owing to this that he preserved his judgment free and 
 unembarrassed in the most trying situations, and enjoyed 
 an uncommon presence of mind and facetiousness of tem- 
 per in the most imminent dangers of war. I shall not 
 attempt to draw his portrait : his person has been 
 described by Bussi and St. Evremond, * authors more en- 
 tertaining than faithful. The former has represented the 
 Chevalier Grammont as artful, fickle, and even somewhat 
 treacherous in his amours, and indefatigable and cruel 
 in his jealousies. St. Evremond has used other colors to 
 
 * Voltaire, in the age of l/ouis XIV., ch. 24, speaking of that mon- 
 arch, says, "even at the same time when he began to encourage genius 
 by his liberality, the Count de Bussi was severely punished for the use 
 he made of his ; he was sent to the Bastile in 1664. The Amours of the 
 Gauls was the pretence of his imprisonment ; but the true cause was 
 the song in which the king was treated with too much freedom, and 
 which, upon this opcasion, was brought to remembrance to ruin Bussi, 
 the reputed author of it. 
 
 Que Deodatus est heureux, 
 De baiser ce bee amoureux. 
 Qui d'une oreille ^ I'autre va ! 
 
 See Deodatus with his billing dear. 
 
 Whose amorous mouth breathes love from ear to ear ! 
 
 •'His works were not good enough to compensate for the mischief 
 they did him. He spoke his own language with purity : he had some 
 merit, but more conceit : and he made no use of the merit he had, but 
 to make himself enemies." Voltaire adds, " Bussi was released at the 
 end of eighteen months ; but he was in disgrace all the rest of his Ufe, 
 in vain protesting a regard for Louis XIV." Bussi died 1693. Of St. 
 Evremond, see note, postea. 
 3 
 
S4 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 express the genius and describe the general manners of 
 the Count ; whilst both, in their different pictures, have 
 done greater honor to themselves than justice to their 
 hero. 
 
 It is, therefore, to the Count we must listen, in the 
 agreeable relation of the sieges and battles wherein he 
 distinguished himself under another hero ; and it is on 
 him we must rely for the truth of passages the least 
 glorious of his life, and for the sincerity with which he 
 relates his address, vivacity, frauds, and the various 
 stratagems he practised either in love or gaming. These 
 express his true character, and to himself we owe these 
 memoirs, since I only hold the pen, while he directs it 
 to the most remarkable and secret passages of his life. 
 
 Loxns XIV. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 In those days affairs were not managed in France as 
 at present. Louis XIII. * then sat upon the throne, but 
 the Cardinal de Richelieu f governed the kingdom ; 
 great men commanded little armies, and little armies 
 did great things : the fortune of great men depended 
 solely upon ministerial favor, and blind devotion to the 
 
 * Son and successor of Henry IV. He began to reign 14th May, 
 1610, and died 14th. May, 1643. 
 
 t Of this great minister Mr. Hume gives the following character : 
 "This man had no sooner, by suppleness and intrigue, got possession 
 of the reins of government, than he formed at once three mighty pro- 
 jects : to subdue the turbulent spirits of the great ; to reduce the rebel- 
 lious Huguenots, and to curb the encroaching power of the house of 
 Austria. Undaunted and implacable, prudent and active, he braved 
 all the opposition of the French princes and nobles in the prosecution 
 of his vengeance ; he discovered and dissipated all their secret cabals 
 and conspiracies. His sovereign himself he held in subjection, while 
 he exalted the throne. The people, while they lost their liberties, ac- 
 quired, by means of his administration, learning, order, discipline and 
 renown. That confused and inaccvurate genius of government, of which 
 France partook in common with other European kingdoms, he changed 
 into a simple monarchy, at the very time when the incapacity of Buck- 
 
 C35) 
 
36 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 will of the minister was the only sure method of ad- 
 vancement. Vast designs were then laying in the heart 
 of neighboring states the foundation of that formidable 
 greatness to which France has now risen : the police was 
 somewhat neglected ; the highways were impassable by 
 day, and the streets by night ; and robberies were com- 
 mitted elsewhere with great impunity. Young men, 
 on their first entrance into the world, took what course 
 they thought proper. Whoever would, was a chevalier, 
 and whoever could, an abbd ; I mean a beneficed abb^ : 
 dress made no distinction between them ; and I believe 
 the Chevalier Grammont was both the one and the other 
 at the siege of Trino.* 
 
 This was his first campaign, and here he displayed 
 those attractive graces which so favorably prepossess, 
 and require neither friends nor recommendations in any 
 company to procure a favorable reception. The siege 
 was already formed when he arrived, which saved him 
 some needless risks ; for a volunteer cannot rest at ease 
 until he has stood the first fire : he went therefore to re- 
 connoitre the generals, having no occasion to reconnoitre 
 the place. Prince Thomas t commanded the army ; and 
 as the post of lieutenant-general was not then known, 
 Du Plessis Pralin % and the famous Viscount Turenne § 
 
 ingham encouraged the free spirit of the commons to establish in Eng- 
 land a regular system of liberty." {History of England, vol. iv., p. 
 232.) Cardinal Richelieu died 1642. 
 
 * Trino was taken 4th May, 1639. 
 
 t Of Savoy, uncle of the reigning duke. He died 1656. 
 
 % Afterwards Mar^chal and Duke de Choiseul. He retired from the 
 army in 1672. Monsieur H^nault, in his History of France, under that 
 year, says : " Le Mar^chal du Plessis ne fit pas cette campagne ^ cause 
 de son grand Sge ; il dit au roi, qu'il portoit envie i ses enfans, qui 
 avoient I'honneur de servir sa majesty, que pour lui il souhaitoit la mort, 
 puisqu'il n'dtoit plus bon a rien : le roi I'embrassa, et lui dit -.'M.le 
 Marichal, on ne travaille que pour approcher de la reputation que 
 vous avez acquise: il est agreable de se reposer apris tants de vie- 
 toires.' " 
 
 A This great general was killed July 27, 1675, by a cannon-shot, near 
 
MEMOIRS eP COtNl? GRAMMONf. 37 
 
 were his majors general. Fortified places were treated 
 with some respect, before a power which nothing can 
 withstand had found means to destroy them by dreadful 
 showers of bombs, and by destructive batteries of hun- 
 dreds of pieces of cannon. Before these furious storms 
 which drive governors under ground and reduce their 
 garrisons to powder, repeated sallies bravely repulsed, 
 and vigorous attacks nobly sustained, signalized both 
 the art of the besiegers and the courage of the besieged ; 
 consequently, sieges were of some length, and young 
 men had an opportunity of gaining some knowledge. 
 Many brave actions were performed on each side during 
 the siege of Trino ; a great deal of fatigue was endured, 
 and considerable losses sustained ; but fatigue was no 
 
 the village of Salzbach, in going to choose a place whereon to erect a 
 battery. "No one," says Voltaire, "is ignorant of the circumstances 
 of his death ; but we cannot here refrain from a review of the principal 
 of them, for the same reason that they are still talked of every day. It 
 seems as if one could not too often repeat, that the same bullet which 
 killed him, having shot oflF the arm of St. Hilaire, lieutenant-general 
 of the artillery, his son came and bewailed his misfortune with many 
 tears ; but the father, looking towards Turenne, said : ' It is not I, but 
 that great man, who should be lamented.' These words may be com- 
 pared with the most heroic sayings recorded in all history, and are the 
 best eulogy that can be bestowed upon Turenne. It is uncommon, un- 
 der a despotic government, where people are actuated only by their 
 private interests, for those who have served their country to die re- 
 gretted by the pubUc. Nevertheless, Turenne was lamented both by 
 the soldiers and people ; and Louvois was the only one who rejoiced 
 at his death. The honors which the king ordered to be paid to his 
 memory are known to every one ; and that he was interred at St. Denis, 
 in the same manner as the Constable du GuescUn, above whom he was 
 elevated by the voice of the public, as much as the age of Turenne was 
 superior to the age of the constable." 
 
 In former editions, the quotation from Voltaire was yet longer. It 
 is more germane to the present matter to observe, that it appears, from 
 the Memoirs of St. Hilaire, where Voltaire found his anecdote, that 
 Count Hamilton was present at the death of Turenne. Monsieur de 
 Boze had twice sent to Turenne, to beg him to come to the place where 
 the battery was to be erected, which Turenne, as if by presentiment, 
 declined. Count Hamilton brought the third anxious request from De 
 
38 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 more considered, hardships were no more felt in the 
 trenches, gravity was at an end with the generals, and 
 the troops were no longer dispirited after the arrival of 
 the Chevalier Grammont. Pleasure was his pursuit, 
 and he made it universal. 
 
 Among the officers in the army, as in all other places, 
 there are men of real merit, or pretenders to it. The 
 latter endeavored to imitate the Chevalier Grammont in 
 his most shining qualities, but without success ; the 
 former admired his talents and courted his friendship. 
 Of this number was Matta : * He was agreeable in his 
 person, but still more by the natural turn of his wit ; he 
 
 Boze ; and in riding to the place where he was, Turenne received his 
 death-blow. The horse of Montecuculi, the opposite general, was, in 
 the course of the same day, killed by a cannon-shot. 
 
 * Matta, or Matha, of whom Hamilton has drawn so striking a pict- 
 ure, is said to have been of the house of Bourdeille, which had the 
 honor to produce Brantome and Montresor. The combination of in- 
 dolence and talent, of wit and simplicity, of bluntness and irony, with 
 which he is represented, may have been derived from tradition, but 
 could only have been united into the inimitable whole by the pen of 
 Hamilton. Several of his bons-mots have been preserved; but the 
 spirit evaporates in translation. " Where could I get this nose ? " said 
 Madame D'Albret, observing a slight tendency to a flush in that feat- 
 ure. "At the sideboard, Madame," answered Matta. When the same 
 lady, in despair at her brother's death, refused all notirishment, Matta 
 administered this blunt consolation : "If you are resolved, Madame, 
 never again to swallow food, you do well ; but if ever you mean to eat 
 upon any future occasion, believe me, you may as well begin just now." 
 Madame Caylus, in her Souvenirs, commemorates the simple and nat- 
 ural humor of Matta as rendering him the most delightful society in 
 the world. Mademoiselle, in her Memoirs, alludes to his pleasantry in 
 conversation, and turn for deep gaming. When the Memoirs of Gram- 
 mont were subjected to the examination of Fontanelle, then censor of 
 the Parisian press, he refused to license them, on account of the scan- 
 dalous conduct imputed to Grammont in this party at quinze. The 
 Count no sooner heard of this than he hastened to Fontanelle, and 
 having joked him for being more tender of his reputation than he was 
 himself, the license was instantly issued. The censor might have re- 
 torted upon Grammont the answer which the Count made to a widow 
 who received coldly his compliments of condolence on her husband's 
 death : "Nay, Madame, if that is the way you take it, I care as little 
 
JIEMOIRS 0^ COUNf GRAMMONf. 39 
 
 was plain and simple in his manners, but endued with 
 a quick discernment and refined delicacy, and full of 
 candor and integrity in all his actions. The Chevalier 
 Grammont was not long in discovering his amiable 
 qualities; an acquaintance was soon formed, and was 
 succeeded by the strictest intimacy. 
 
 Matta insisted that the Chevalier should take up his 
 quarters with him ; to which he only consented on con- 
 dition of equally contributing to the expense. As they 
 were both liberal and magnificent, at their common cost 
 they gave the best designed and most luxurious enter- 
 tainments that had ever yet been seen. Play was won- 
 derfully productive at first, and the Chevalier restored by 
 a hundred different ways that which he obtained only by 
 one. The generals, being entertained by turns, admired 
 their magnificence, and were dissatisfied with their own 
 officers for not keeping such good tables and attendance. 
 The Chevalier had the talent of setting off" the most 
 indifferent things to advantage ; and his wit was so gen- 
 erally acknowledged, that it was a kind of disgrace not 
 to submit to his taste. To him Matta resigned the care 
 of furnishing the table and doing its honors ; and, 
 charmed with the general applause, persuaded himself 
 that nothing could be more honorable than their way of 
 living, and nothing more easy than to continue it ; but 
 he soon perceived that the greatest prosperity is not the 
 most lasting. Good living, bad economy, dishonest ser- 
 vants, and ill luck, all uniting together to disconcert 
 their housekeeping, their table was going to be gradually 
 laid aside, when the Chevalier's genius, fertile in re- 
 sources, undertook to support his former credit by the 
 following expedient. 
 
 They had never yet conferred about the state of their 
 
 about it as you do." He died in 1674. " Matta est mort sans confes- 
 sion," says Madame Maintenon, in a letter to her brother. Tome I., 
 p. 67. 
 
40 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 finances, although the steward had acquainted each, 
 separately, that he must either receive money to continue 
 the expenses, or give in his accounts. One day, when 
 the Chevalier came home sooner than usual, he found 
 Matta fast asleep in an easy chair, and, being unwilling 
 to disturb his rest, he began musing on his project 
 Matta awoke without his perceiving it ; and having, for 
 a short time, observed the deep contemplation he seemed 
 involved in, and the profound silence between two per- 
 sons who had never held their tongues for a moment 
 when together before, he broke it by a sudden fit of 
 laughter, which increased in proportion as the other 
 stared at him. "A merry way of waking, and ludicrous 
 enough," said the Chevalier, "what is the matter, and 
 whom do you laugh at?" "Faith, Chevalier," said 
 Matta, ' ' I am laughing at a dream I had just now, which 
 is so natural and diverting, that I must make you laugh 
 at it also. I was dreaming that we had dismissed our 
 maitre-d'h6tel, our cook, and our confectioner, having 
 resolved, for the remainder of the campaign, to live upon 
 others as others have lived upon us : this was my dream. 
 Mow tell me. Chevalier, on what were you musing?" 
 "Poor fellow!" said the Chevalier, shrugging up his 
 shoulders, "you are knocked down at once, and thrown 
 into the utmost consternation and despair at some silly 
 stories which the maltre-d'h6tel has been telling you as 
 well as me. What ! after the figure we have made in the 
 face of the nobility and foreigners in the army, shall we 
 give it up, and like fools and beggars sneak off, upon the 
 first failure of our money ! Have you no sentiments of 
 honor ? Where is the dignity of France ? " "And where 
 is the money? " said Matta ; "for my men say, the devil 
 may take them, if there be ten crowns in the house ; and 
 I believe you have not much more, for it is above a week 
 since I have seen you pull out your purse, or count your 
 money, an amusement you were very fond of in prosper- 
 ity." "I own all this," said the Chevalier, "but yet I 
 
MEMOIRS Oli' COtTNT (^RAMMONIf. 
 
 41 
 
 will force you to confess, that you are but a mean-spirited 
 fellow upon this occasion. What would have become of 
 you if you had been reduced to the situation I was in at 
 Lyons, four days before I arrived here ? I will tell you 
 the story." 
 
 DE TUEENNE. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 "This," said Matta, "smells strongly of romance, 
 except that it should have been your squire's part to tell 
 your adventures." "True," said the Chevalier ; ''ho-w- 
 ever, I may acquaint you with my first exploits without 
 oflFending my modesty ; besides, my squire's style borders 
 too much upon the burlesque for an heroic narrative. 
 
 "You must know, then, that upon my arrival at 
 Lyons — " "Is it thus you begin?" said Matta. 
 "Pray give us your history a little farther back. The 
 most minute particulars of a life like yours are worthy of 
 relation ; but, above all, the manner in which you first 
 paid your respects to Cardinal Richelieu : I have often 
 laughed at it. However, you may pass over the unlucky 
 pranks of your infancy, your genealogy, name and qual- 
 ity of your ancestors, for that is a subject with which you 
 must be utterly unacquainted. ' ' 
 
 "Pooh!" said the Chevalier; "you think that all the 
 world is as ignorant as yourself ; — you think that I am a 
 stranger to the Mendores and the Corisandes. So, per- 
 haps I don't know that it was my father's own fault that 
 he was not the son of Henry IV. The King would by 
 (42J 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 43 
 
 all means have acknowledged him for his son, but the 
 traitor would never consent to it. See what the Gram- 
 monts would have been now, but for this cross-grained 
 fellow ! They would have had precedence of the Caesars 
 de Vend6me. * You may laugh, if you like, yet it is as 
 true as the gospel : but let us come to the point. 
 
 " I was sent to the college of Pau,t with the intention 
 of being brought up to the church ; but as I had quite 
 diflFerent views, I made no manner of improvement : 
 gaming was so much in my head, that both my tutor and 
 the master lost their labor in endeavoring to teach me 
 Latin. Old Brinon, who served me both as valet-de- 
 chambre and governor, in vain threatened to acquaint 
 my mother. I only studied when I pleased, that is to 
 say, seldom or never : however, they treated me as is 
 customary with scholars of my quality ; I was raised to 
 all the dignities of the forms, without haying merited 
 them, and left college nearly in the same state in which 
 I entered it ; nevertheless, I was thought to have more 
 knowledge than was requisite for the abbacy which my 
 brother had solicited for me. He had just married the 
 niece of a minister, to whom every one cringed : he was 
 desirous to present me to him. I felt but little regret to 
 quit the country, and great impatience to see Paris. My 
 brother having kept me some time with him, in order to 
 polish me, l^t me loose upon the town to shake off my 
 rustic air, and learn the manners of the world. I so 
 thoroughly gained them, that I could not be persuaded 
 to lay them aside when I was introduced at court in the 
 
 * Caesar, Duke de Vend6me, was the eldest son of Henry IV., by the 
 celebrated Gabrielle d'Estrdes. He died in 1665. 
 
 t Pau was the capital of the principality of Bearne, and lies on an 
 eminence on the Gave B^arnois, being indeed small and well built, and 
 formerly the seat of a parliament, a bailiwick, and a chamber of ac- 
 counts. In the palace here was born Henry IV. Exclusive of an acad- 
 emy of sciences and liberal arts, there was in it a college of Jesuits, vrith 
 five convents and two hospitals. 
 
44 mbmoirs 6^ doUNi* giiammont. 
 
 character of an Ahh6. You know what kind of dress 
 was then the fashion. All that they could obtain of me 
 was to put a cassock over my other clothes, and my 
 brother, ready to die with laughing at my ecclesiastical 
 habit, made others laugh too. I had the finest head of 
 hair in the world, well curled and powdered, above 
 my cassock and below were white buskins and gilt spurs. 
 The Cardinal, who had a quick discernment, could not 
 help laughing. This elevation of sentiment gave him 
 umbrage ; and he foresaw what might be expected from 
 a genius that already laughed at the shaven crown and 
 cowl. 
 
 "When my brother had taken me home, 'Well, my 
 little parson,' said he, 'you have acted your part to ad- 
 miration, and your parti-colored dress of the ecclesiastic 
 and soldier has greatly diverted the court ; but this is not 
 all : you must now choose, my little knight. Consider 
 then, whether, by sticking to the church, you will pos- 
 sess great revenues, and have nothing to do ; or, with 
 a small portion, you will risk the loss of a leg or arm, 
 and be the/rucfyis belli of an insensible court, to arrive in 
 your old age at the dignity of a major-general, with a 
 glass eye and a wooden leg. ' ' I know, ' said I, ' that there 
 is no comparison between these two situations, with re- 
 gard to the conveniences of life ; but as a man ought to 
 secure his future state in preference to all other consider- 
 ations, I am resolved to renounce the church for the sal- 
 vation of my soul, upon condition, however, that I keep 
 my abbacy.' Neither the remonstrances nor authority 
 of my brother could induce me to change my resolution ; 
 and he was forced to agree to this last article in order to 
 keep me at the academy. You know that I am the most 
 adroit man in Prance, so that I soon learned all that is 
 taught at such places, and, at the same time, I also 
 learnt that which gives the finishing stroke to a young 
 fellow's education, and makes him a gentleman, viz., all 
 sorts of games, both at cards and dice ; but the truth is, 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 45 
 
 I thought, at first, that I had more skill in them than I 
 really had, as experience proved. When my mother 
 knew the choice I had made, she was inconsolable ; for 
 she reckoned, that had I been a clergyman I should have 
 been a saint ; but now she was certain that I should either 
 be a devil in the world, or be killed in the wars. And 
 indeed I burned with impatience to be a soldier ; but 
 being yet too young, I was forced to make a campaign at 
 Bidache * before I made one in the army. When I re- 
 turned to my mother's house, I had so much the air of a 
 courtier and a man of the world, that she began to respect 
 me instead of chiding me for my infatuation towards the 
 army. I became her favorite, and finding me inflexible, 
 she only thought of keeping me with her as long as she 
 could, while my little equipage was preparing. The 
 faithful Brinon, who was to attend me as valet-de-cham- 
 bre, was likewise to discharge the office of governor and 
 equerry, being, perhaps, the only Gascon who was ever 
 possessed of so much gravity and ill-temper. He passed 
 his word for my good behavior and morality, and prom- 
 ised my mother that he would give a good account of my 
 person in the dangers of the war ; but I hope he will 
 keep his word better as to this last article than he has 
 done as to the former. 
 
 "My equipage was sent away a week before me. This 
 was so much time gained by my mother to give me good 
 advice. At length, after having solemnly enjoined me 
 to have the fear of God before my eyes, and to love my 
 neighbor as myself, she suffered me to depart, under the 
 protection of the Lord and the sage Brinon. At the sec- 
 ond stage we quarrelled. He had received four hun- 
 dred louis d'or for the expenses of the campaign: I 
 wished to have the keeping of them myself, which he 
 strenuously opposed. ' Thou old scoundrel, ' said I, ' is 
 the money thine, or was it given thee for me ? You sup- 
 
 * A principality belonging to the family of the Grammonts, in the 
 province of Gascony. 
 
46 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 pose I must have a treasurer, and receive no money with- 
 out his order. ' I know not whether it was from a present- 
 iment of what afterwards happened that he grew melan- 
 choly ; however it was with the greatest reluctance and the 
 most poignant anguish, that he found himself obliged 
 to yield. One would have thought that I had wrested 
 his very soul from him. I found myself more light and 
 merry after I had eased him of his trust ; he, on the con- 
 trary, appeared so overwhelmed with grief, that it seemed 
 as if I had laid four hundred pounds of lead upon his 
 back, instead of taking away these four hundred louis. 
 He went on so heavily, that I was forced to whip his 
 horse myself, and turning to me, now and then, 'Ah ! 
 sir,' said he, 'my lady did not think it would be so.' 
 His reflections and sorrows were renewed at every stage; 
 for, instead of giving a shilling to the post-boy, I gave 
 him half-a-crown. 
 
 "Having at last reached Ivyons, two soldiers stopped 
 us at the gate of the city, to carry us before the gover- 
 nor. I took one of them to conduct me to the best inn, 
 and delivered Brinon into the hands of the other, to ac- 
 quaint the commandant with the particulars of my jour- 
 ney, and my future intentions. 
 
 "There are as good taverns at lyyons as at Paris ; but 
 my soldier, according to custom, carried me to a friend 
 of his own, whose house he extolled as having the best 
 accommodations, and the greatest resort of good company 
 in the whole town. The master of this hotel was as big 
 as a hogshead, his name Cerise ; a Swiss by birth, a poi- 
 soner by profession, and a thief by custom. He showed 
 me into a tolerably neat room, and desired to know 
 whether I pleased to sup by myself or at the ordinary. 
 I chose the latter, on account of the beau monde which 
 the soldier had boasted of 
 
 "Brinon, who was quite out of temper at the many 
 questions which the governor had asked him, returned 
 more surly than an old ape ; and seeing that I was dress- 
 
MEMOIRS OF CXDUNT GRAMMONT. 47 
 
 ing my hair, in order to go downstairs : ' What are you 
 about now, sir ? ' said he. 'Are you going to tramp about 
 the town ? No, no ; have we not had tramping enough 
 ever since the morning ? Eat a bit of supper, and go to 
 bed betimes, that you may get on horseback by day- 
 break.' ' Mr. Comptroller,' said I, ' I shall neither tramp 
 about the town, nor eat alone, nor go to bed early. I 
 intend to sup with the company below. ' 'At the ordi- 
 nary ! ' cried he ; ' I beseech you, sir, do not think of it ! 
 Devil take me, if there be not a dozen brawling fellows 
 playing at cards and dice, who make noise enough to 
 drown the loudest thunder ! ' 
 
 " I was grown insolent since I had seized the money ; 
 and being desirous to shake off the yoke of a governor, 
 ' Do you know, Mr. Brinon,' said I, ' that I don't like a 
 blockhead to set up for a reasoner ? Do you go to sup- 
 per, if you please ; but take care that I have post-horses 
 ready before daybreak.' The moment he mentioned 
 cards and dice, I felt the money bum in my pocket. I 
 was somewhat surprised, however, to find the room where 
 the ordinary was served filled with odd-looking creatures. 
 My host, after presenting me to the company, assured 
 me that there were but eighteen or twenty of those gen- 
 tlemen who would have the honor to sup with me. I 
 approached one of the tables where they were playing, 
 and thought I should have died with laughing : I ex- 
 pected to have seen good company and deep play ; but I 
 only met with two Germans playing at backgammon. 
 Never did two country loobies play like them ; but their 
 figures beggared all description. The fellow near whom 
 I stood was short, thick, and fat, and as round as a ball, 
 with a ruff, and prodigious high-crowned hat. Any one, 
 at a moderate distance, would have taken him for the 
 dome of a church, with the steeple on the top of it. I 
 inquired of the host who he was. 'A merchant from 
 Basle,' said he, 'who comes hither to sell horses; but 
 from the method he pursues, I think he will not dispose 
 
48 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 of many ; for he does nothing but play. ' ' Does he play 
 deep ? ' said I. ' Not now, ' said he ; ' they are only play- 
 ing for their reckoning, while supper is getting ready ; 
 but he has no objection to play as deep as any one.' 
 'Has he money?' said I. 'As for that,' replied the 
 treacherous Cerise, ' would to God you had won a thou- 
 sand pistoles of him, and I went your halves ; we should 
 not be long without our money. ' I wanted no further 
 encouragement to meditate the ruin of the high-crowned 
 hat. I went nearer to him, in order to take a closer sur- 
 vey ; never was such a bungler ; he made blots upon 
 blots ; God knows, I began to feel some remorse at win- 
 ning of such an ignoramus, who knew so little of the 
 game. He lost his reckoning ; supper was served up ; 
 and I desired him to sit next me. It was a long table, 
 and there were at least five-and-twenty in company, not- 
 withstanding the landlord's promise. The most ex- 
 ecrable repast that ever was begun being finished, all the 
 crowd insensibly dispersed, except the little Swiss, who 
 still kept near me, and the landlord, who placed him- 
 self on the other side of me. They both smoked like 
 dragoons ; and the Swiss was continually saying, in bad 
 French, ' I ask your pardon, sir, for my great freedom, ' 
 at the same time blowing such whiffs of tobacco in my 
 face as almost suffocated me. Mr. Cerise, on the other 
 hand, desired he might take the liberty of asking me 
 whether I had ever been in his country? and seemed 
 surprised I had so genteel an air, without having travelled 
 in Switzerland. 
 
 ' ' The little chub I had to encounter was full as in- 
 quisitive as the other. He desired to know whether I 
 came from the army in Piedmont ; and having told him 
 I was going thither, he asked me, whether I had a mind 
 to buy any horses ; that he had about two hundred to 
 dispose of, and that he would sell them cheap, I began 
 to be smoked like a gammon of bacon ; and being quite 
 wearied out, both with their tobacco and their questions, 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GKAMMONT. 49 
 
 I asked my companion if he would play for a single pis- 
 tole at backgammon, while our men were supping ; it 
 was not without great ceremony that he consented, at 
 the same time asking my pardon for his great freedom. 
 
 "I won the game ; I gave him his revenge, and won 
 again. We then played double or quit ; I won that too, 
 and all in the twinkling of an eye ; for he grew vexed, 
 and suflfered himself to be taken in so that I began to 
 bless my stars for my good fortune. Brinon came in 
 about the end of the third game, to put me to bed ; he 
 made a great sign of the cross, but paid no attention to 
 the signs I made him to retire. I was forced to rise to 
 give him that order in private. He began to reprimand 
 me for disgracing myself by keeping company with such 
 a low-bred wretch. It was in vain that I told him he 
 was a great merchant, that he had a great deal of money, 
 and that he played like a child. ' He a merchant ! ' cried 
 Brinon. ' Do not believe that, sir ! May the devil take 
 me, if he is not some conjurer. ' ' Hold your tongue, old 
 fool, ' said I ; ' he is no more a conjurer than you are, 
 and that is decisive ; and, to prove it to you, I am re- 
 solved to win four or five hundred pistoles of him before 
 I go to bed. ' With these words I turned him out, strictly 
 enjoining him not to return, or in any manner to disturb 
 us. 
 
 "The game being done, the little Swiss unbuttoned 
 his pockets, to pull out a new four-pistole piece, and 
 presenting it to me, he asked my pardon for his great 
 freedom, and seemed as if he wished to retire. This was 
 not what I wanted. I told him we only played for 
 amusement ; that I had no design upon his money ; and 
 that, if he pleased, I would play him a single game for 
 his four pistoles. He raised some objections ; but con- 
 sented at last, and won back his money. I was piqued 
 at it. I played another game ; fortune changed sides ; 
 the dice ran for him, he made no more blots. I lost the 
 game ; another game, and double or quit ; we doubled 
 4 
 
50 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 the stake, and played double or quit again. I was vexed ; 
 he, like a true gamester, took every bet I offered, and 
 won all before him, without my getting more than six 
 points in eight or ten games. I asked him to play a 
 single game for one hundred pistoles ; but as he saw I 
 did not stake, he told me it was late ; that he must go 
 and look after his horses ; and went away, still asking 
 my pardon for his great freedom. The cool manner of 
 his refusal, and the politeness with which he took his 
 leave, provoked me to such a degree, that I could almost 
 have killed him. I was so confounded at losing my 
 money so fast, even to the last pistole, that I did not 
 immediately consider the miserable situation to which I 
 was reduced. 
 
 " I durst not go up to my chamber for fear of Brinon. 
 By good luck, however, he was tired with waiting for 
 me, and had gone to bed. This was some consolation, 
 though but of short continuance. As soon as I was laid 
 down, all the fatal consequences of my adventure pre- 
 sented themselves to my imagination. I could not sleep. 
 I saw all the horrors of my misfortune, without being 
 able to find any remedy ; in vain did I rack my brain ; it 
 supplied me with no expedient. I feared nothing so 
 much as daybreak ; however, it did come, and the cruel 
 Brinon along with it. He was booted up to the middle, 
 and cracking a cursed whip, which he held in his hand, 
 ' Up, Monsieur le Chevalier, ' cried he, opening the cur- 
 tains ; ' the horses are at the door, and you are still 
 asleep. We ought by this time to have ridden two stages ; 
 give me money to pay the reckoning. ' ' Brinon, ' said I, 
 in a dejected tone, ' draw the curtains. ' ' What ! ' cried 
 he, ' draw the curtains ! Do you intend, then, to make 
 your campaign at Lyons ? you seem to have taken a lik- 
 ing to the place. And for the great merchant, you have 
 stripped him, I suppose ? No, no. Monsieur le Chevalier, 
 this money will never do you any good. This wretch 
 has, perhaps, a family ; and it is his children's bread 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 51 
 
 that he has been playing with, and that you have won. 
 Was this an object to sit up all night for ? What would 
 my lady say, if she knew what a life you lead ? ' ' M, 
 Brinon,' said I, 'pray draw the curtains.' But instead 
 of obeying me, one would have thought that the devil 
 had prompted him to use the most pointed and galling 
 terms to a person under such misfortunes. ' And how 
 much have you won ? ' said he ; ' five hundred pistoles ? 
 what must the poor man do? Recollect, Monsieur le 
 Chevalier, what I have said, this money will never thrive 
 with you. It is, perhaps, but four hundred? three? two? 
 well if it be but one hundred louis d'or, ' continued he, 
 seeing that I shook my head at every sum which he had 
 named, ' there is no great mischief done ; one hundred 
 pistoles will not ruin him, provided you have won them 
 fairly.' 'Friend Brinon,' said I, fetching a deep sigh, 
 ' draw the curtains ; I am unworthy to see daylight. ' 
 Brinon was much affected at these melancholy words, 
 but I thought he would have fainted, when I told him 
 the whole adventure. He tore his hair, made grievous 
 lamentations, the burden of which still was, ' What will 
 my lady say ? ' And, after having exhausted his un- 
 profitable complaints, ' What will become of you now, 
 Monsieur le Chevalier ? ' said he, ' what do you intend to 
 do ? ' ' Nothing,' said I, ' for I am fit for nothing. ' After 
 this, being somewhat eased after making him my confes- 
 sion, I thought upon several projects, to none of which 
 could I gain his approbation. I would have had him 
 post after my equipage, to have sold some of my clothes. 
 I was for proposing to the horse-dealer to buy some 
 horses of him at a high price on credit, to sell again 
 cheap. Brinon laughed at all these schemes, and after 
 having had the cruelty of keeping me upon the rack for 
 a long time, he at last extricated me. Parents are always 
 stingy towards their poor children ; my mother intended 
 to have given me five hundred louis d'or, but she had 
 kept back fifty, as well for some little repairs in the 
 
52 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 abbey, as to pay for praying for me. Brinon had the 
 charge of the other fifty, with strict injunctions not to 
 speak of them, unless upon some urgent necessity. And 
 this you see soon happened. 
 
 ' ' Thus you have a brief account of my first adven- 
 ture. Play has hitherto favored me ; for; since my 
 arrival, I have had, at one time, after paying all my ex- 
 penses, fifteen hundred louis d'or. Fortune is now 
 again become unfavorable : we must mend her. Our 
 cash runs low ; we must, therefore, endeavor to recruit." 
 
 "Nothing is more easy," said Matta ; "it is only to 
 find out such another dupe as the horse-dealer at Lyons ; 
 but now I think on it, has not the faithful Brinon some 
 reserve for the last extremity ? Faith, the time is now 
 come, and we cannot do better than to make use of it. ' ' 
 
 "Your raillery would be very seasonable," said this 
 Chevalier, ' ' if you knew how to extricate us out of the 
 difficulty. You must certainly have an overflow of wit, 
 to be throwing it away upon every occasion as at present. 
 What the devil ! will you always be bantering, without 
 considering what a serious situation we are reduced to. 
 Mind what I say, I will go to-morrow to the head- 
 quarters, I will dine with the Count de Cameran, and I 
 will invite him to supper." "Where?" said Matta. 
 "Here," said the Chevalier. " You are mad, my poor 
 friend," replied Matta. "This is some such project as 
 you formed at Lyons : you know we have neither money 
 nor credit ; and, to re-establish our circumstances, you 
 intend to give a supper. ' ' 
 
 " Stupid fellow ! " said the Chevalier, "is it possible, 
 that, so long as we have been acquainted, you should 
 have learned no more invention ? The Count de Cam- 
 eran plays at quinze, and so do I ; we want money ; he 
 has more than he knows what to do with ; I will be- 
 speak a splendid supper, he shall pay for it. Send your 
 maitre-d' hotel to me, and trouble yourself no further, 
 except in some precautions, which it is necessary to take 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 53 
 
 on such an occasion. " "What are they ? " said Matta. 
 " I will tell you," said the Chevalier ; "for I find one 
 must explain to you things that are as clear as noon- 
 day." 
 
 ' ' You command the guards that are here, don' t you ? 
 As soon as night comes on, you shall order fifteen or 
 twenty men, under the command of your sergeant La 
 Place, to be under arms, and to lay themselves flat on 
 the ground, between this place and the head-quarters." 
 ' ' What the devil ! ' ' cried Matta, ' ' an ambuscade ? 
 God forgive me, I believe you intend to rob the poor 
 Savoyard. If that be your intention, I declare I will 
 have nothing to say to it." "Poor devil!" said the 
 Chevalier, ' ' the matter is this ; it is very likely that we 
 shall win his money. The Piedmontese, though other- 
 wise good fellows, are apt to be suspicious and distrust- 
 ful. He commands the horse ; you know you cannot 
 hgld your tongue, and are very likely to let slip some 
 jest or other that may vex him. Should he take it into 
 his head that he is cheated, and resent it, who knows 
 what the consequences might be ? for he is commonly 
 attended by eight or ten horsemen. Therefore, however 
 he may be provoked at his loss, it is proper to be in such 
 a situation as not to dread his resentment." 
 
 "Embrace me, my dear Chevalier," said Matta, 
 holding his sides and laughing; "embrace me, for 
 thou art not to be matched. What a fool I was to think, 
 when you talked to me of taking precautions, that 
 nothing more was necessary than to prepare a table and 
 cards, or perhaps to provide some false dice ! I should 
 never have thought of supporting a man who plays at 
 quinze by a detachment of foot : I must, indeed, confess 
 that you are already a great soldier." 
 
 The next day everything happened as the Chevalier 
 Grammont had planned it ; the unfortunate Cameran 
 fell into the snare. They supped in the most agreeable 
 manner possible : Matta drank five or six bumpers to 
 
54 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 drown a few scruples which made him somewhat un- 
 easy. The Chevalier de Grammont shone as usual, and 
 almost made his guest die with laughing, whom he was 
 soon after to make very serious ; and the good-natured 
 Cameran ate like a man whose affections were divided 
 between good cheer and a love of play ; that is to say, 
 he hurried down his victuals, that he might not lose any 
 of the precious time which he had devoted to quinze. 
 
 Supper being done, the sergeant La Place posted his 
 ambuscade, and the Chevalier de Grammont engaged 
 his man. The perfidy of Cerise, and the high-crowned 
 hat, were still fresh in remembrance, and enabled him 
 to get the better of a few grains of remorse, and conquer 
 some scruples which arose in his mind. Matta, unwill- 
 ing to be a spectator of violated hospitality, sat down 
 in an easy chair, in order to fall asleep, while the Chev- 
 alier was stripping the poor Count of his money. 
 
 They only staked three or four pistoles at first, just 
 for amusement ; but Cameran having lost three or four 
 times, he staked high, and the game became serious. 
 He still lost, and became outrageous ; the cards flew 
 about the room, and the exclamations awoke Matta. 
 
 As his head was heavy with sleep, and hot with wine, 
 he began to laugh at the passion of the Piedmontese, 
 instead of consoling him. ' ' Faith, my poor Count, ' ' 
 said he, " if I were in your place, I would play no 
 more. " " Why so ? " said the other. ' ' I don' t know, ' ' 
 said he, " but my heart tells me that your ill-luck will 
 continue." "I will try that," said Cameran, calling 
 for fresh cards. "Do so," said Matta, and fell asleep 
 again. It was but for a short time. All cards were 
 equally unfortunate for the loser. He held none but 
 tens or court-cards ; and if by chance he had quinze, he 
 was sure to be the younger hand, and therefore lost it. 
 Again he stormed. "Did not I tell you so?" said 
 Matta, statting out of his sleep. ' 'All your storming is 
 as long as you play you will lose. Believe 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 65 
 
 me, the shortest follies are the best. lyeave off, for the 
 devil take me if it is possible for you to win." 
 ' ' Why ? ' ' said Cameran, who began to be impatient. 
 ' ' Do yon wish to know ? ' ' said Matta ; ' ' why, faith, it 
 is because we are cheating you. ' ' 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont was provoked at so ill- 
 timed a jest, more especially as it carried along with it 
 some appearance of truth. ' ' Mr. Matta, ' ' said he, ' ' do 
 you think it can be very agreeable for a man who plays 
 with such ill-luck as the Count to be pestered with your 
 insipid jests? For my part, I am so weary of the game 
 that I would desist immediately, if he was not so great 
 a loser. ' ' Nothing is more dreaded by a losing game- 
 ster than such a threat ; and the Count, in a softened 
 tone, told the Chevalier that Mr. Matta might say what 
 he pleased, if he did not offend him ; that, ag to him- 
 self, it did not give him the smallest uneasiness. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont gave the Count far bet- 
 ter treatment than he himself had experienced from the 
 Swiss at I/yons ; for he played upon credit as long as he 
 pleased, which Cameran took so kindly, that he lost fif- 
 teen hundred pistoles, and paid them the next morning. 
 As for Matta, he was severely reprimanded for the in- 
 temperance of his tongue. All the reason he gave for 
 his conduct was, that he made it a point of conscience 
 not to suffer the poor Savoyard to be cheated without 
 informing him of it. "Besides," said he, "it would 
 have given me pleasure to have seen my infantry en- 
 gaged with his horse, if he had been inclined to mis- 
 chief." 
 
 This adventure having recruited their finances, for- 
 tune favored them the remainder of the campaign, and 
 the Chevalier de Grammont, to prove that he had only 
 seized upon the Count's effects by way of reprisal, and 
 to indemnify himself for the losses he had sustained at 
 Lyons, began from this time to make the same use of 
 his money, that he has been known to do since upon all 
 
56 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT*. 
 
 occasions. He found out the distressed in order to re- 
 lieve them ; ofl&cers who had lost their equipage in the 
 war, or their money at play ; soldiers who were disabled 
 in the trenches ; in short every one felt the influence of 
 his benevolence : but his manner of conferring a favor 
 exceeded even the favor itself. 
 
 Every man possessed of such amiable qualities must 
 meet with success in all his undertakings. The soldiers 
 knew his person and adored him. The generals were 
 sure to meet him in every scene of action, and sought 
 bis company at other times. As soon as fortune declared 
 for him, his first care was to make restitution, by desir- 
 ing Cameran to go his halves in all parties where the 
 odds were in his favor. 
 
 An inexhaustible fund of vivacity and good humor 
 gave a certain air of novelty to whatever he either said 
 or did. I know not on what occasion it was that Mon- 
 sieur de Turenne, towards the end of the siege, com- 
 manded a separate body. The Chevalier de Grammont 
 went to visit him in his new quarters, where he found 
 fifteen or twenty officers. M. de Turenne was naturally 
 fond of merriment, and the Chevalier's presence -vyas 
 sure to inspire it. He was much pleased with this visit, 
 and by way of acknowledgment, would have engaged 
 him to play. The Chevalier de Grammont, in returning 
 him thanks, said, that he had learned from his tutor, 
 that when a man went to see his friends, it was neither 
 prudent to leave his own money behind him, nor civil 
 to carry off" theirs. ' ' Truly, ' ' said Monsieur de Turenne, 
 "you will find neither deep play nor much money 
 among us ; but, that it may not be said that we suffered 
 you to depart without playing, let us stake every one a 
 horse. " 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont agreed. Fortune, who 
 had followed him to a place where he did not think he 
 should have any need of her, made him win fifteen or 
 sixteen horses, by way of joke ; but seeing some counte- 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 57 
 
 nances disconcerted at the loss, "Gentlemen," said he, 
 " I should be sorry to see you return on foot from your 
 general's quarters ; it will be enough for me if you send 
 me your horses to-morrow, except one, which I give for 
 the cards. ' ' 
 
 The valet-de-chambre thought he was bantering. " I 
 speak seriously," said the Chevalier, " I give you a horse 
 for the cards ; and, what is more, take whichever you 
 please, except my own." "Truly," said Monsieur de 
 Turenne, ' ' I am vastly pleased with the novelty of the 
 thing ; for I don't believe that a horse was ever before 
 given for the cards. ' ' 
 
 Trino surrendered at last. The Baron de Batteville,* 
 who had defended it valiantly, and for a long time, ob- 
 tained a capitulation worthy of such a resistance, I do 
 
 * This officer appears to have been the same person who was after- 
 wards ambassador from Spain to the court of Great Britain, where, in 
 the summer of 1660, he offended the French court, by claiming prece- 
 dence of their ambassador, Count d'Estrades, on the public entry of the 
 Swedish ambassador into Ivondon. On this occasion the court of France 
 compelled its rival of Spain to submit to the mortifjring circumstance of 
 acknowledging the French superiority. To commemorate this important 
 victory, Louis XIV. caused a medal to be struck, representing the Span- 
 ish ambassador, the Marquis de Fuente, making the declaration to that 
 king, "No concurrer con los ambassadores des de Francia," with this 
 inscription, "Jus prsecedendi assertum," and under it, "Hispaniorum 
 excusatio coram XXX legatis principum, 1662." A very curious account 
 of the fray occasioned by this dispute, drawn up by Evelyn, is to be seen 
 in that gentleman's article in the Biographia Britannica. Lord Clar- 
 endon, speaking of Baron de Batteville, says, he was bom in Burgundy, 
 in the Spanish quarters, and bred a soldier, in which profession he was 
 an officer of note, and at that time was governor of St. Sebastian, and 
 of that province. He seemed a rough man, and to have more of the 
 camp, but, in truth, knew the intrigues of a court better than inost 
 Spaniards ; and, except when his passion surprised him, was wary and 
 cunning in his negotiation. He lived with less reservation and more 
 jollity tiian the ministers of that crown used to do, and drew such of 
 the court to his table and conversation as he observed to be loud talk- 
 ers, and confident enough in the king's presence. — Continuation oj 
 Clarendon, p. 84. 
 
58 
 
 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 not know whether the Chevalier de Grammont had any 
 share in the capture of this place ; but I know very well, 
 that during a more glorious reign, and with armies ever 
 victorious, his intrepidity and address have been the 
 cause of taking others since, even under the eye of 
 his master, as we shall see in the sequel of these 
 memoirs. 
 
 DE CONDE. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Military glory is at most but one-half of the accom- 
 plishments which distinguish heroes. lyove must give 
 the finishing stroke, and adorn their character by the 
 difl&culties they encounter, the temerity of their enter- 
 prises, and finally, by the lustre of success. We have 
 examples of this, not only in romances, but also in the 
 genuine histories of the most famous warriors, and the 
 most celebrated conquerors. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont and Matta, who did not 
 think much of these examples, were, however, of opin- 
 ion, that it would be very agreeable to refresh themselves 
 after the fatigues of the siege of Trino, by forming some 
 other sieges, at the expense of the beauties and husbands 
 of Turin. As the campaign had finished early, they 
 thought they should have time to perform some exploits 
 before the bad weather obliged them to repass the 
 mountains. 
 
 They sallied forth, therefore, not unlike Amadis de 
 Gaul or Don Galaor after they had been dubbed knights, 
 eager in their search after adventures in love, war, and 
 enchantments. They were greatly superior to those two 
 brothers, who only knew how to cleave in twain giants, 
 
 (59) 
 
60 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 to break lances, and to carry off fair damsels behind 
 them on horseback, without saying a single word to 
 them ; whereas our heroes were adepts at cards and dice, 
 of which the others were totally ignorant. 
 
 They went to Turin, met with an agreeable reception, 
 and were greatly distinguished at court. Could it be 
 otherwise ? They were young and handsome ; they had 
 wit at command, and spent their money liberally. In 
 what country will not a man succeed, possessing such 
 advantages ? As Turin was at that time the seat of gal- 
 lantry and of love, two strangers of this description, who 
 were always cheerful, brisk, and lively, could not fail 
 to please the ladies of the court. 
 
 Though the men of Turin were extremely handsome, 
 they were not, however, possessed of the art of pleasing. 
 They treated their wives with respect, and were cour- 
 teous to strangers. Their wives, still more handsome, 
 were full as courteous to strangers, and less respectful to 
 their husbands. 
 
 Madame Royale,* a worthy daughter of Henry IV., 
 rendered her little court the most agreeable in the 
 world. She inherited such of her father's virtues as 
 compose the proper ornament of her sex ; and with 
 regard to what are termed the foibles of great souls, 
 her highness had in no wise degenerated. 
 
 The Count de Tanes was her prime minister. It was 
 not di£&cult to conduct affairs of state during his admin- 
 
 * Christina, second daughter of Henry IV., married to Victor Ama- 
 deus. Prince of Piedmont, afterwards Duke of Savoy. She seems to 
 have been well entitled to the character here given of her. Keysler, 
 in his Travels, voL i., p. 239, speaking of a fine villa, called La Vigne 
 de Madame Royale, near Turin, says, "During the minority under the 
 regent Christina, both the house and garden were often the scenes of 
 riot and debauchery. On this account, in the king's advanced age, 
 when he was, as it were, inflamed with an external flame of religion, 
 with which possibly the admonitions of his father-confessor might con- 
 cur, this place became so odious to him, that, upon the death of 
 Madame Royale, he bestowed it on the hospital." She died in 1663. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 61 
 
 istration. No complaints were alleged against him ; 
 and the princess, satisfied with his conduct herself, was, 
 above all, glad to have her choice approved by her whole 
 court, where people lived nearly according to the man- 
 ners and customs of ancient chivalry. 
 
 The ladies had each a professed lover, for fashion's 
 sake, besides volunteers, whose numbers were unlimited. 
 The declared admirers wore their mistresses' liveries, 
 their arms, and sometimes even took their names. Their 
 office was, never to quit them in public, and never to 
 approach them in private ; to be their squires upon all 
 occasions, and, in jousts and tournaments, to adorn their 
 lances, their housings, and their coats, with the ciphers 
 and the colors of their dulcineas. 
 
 Matta was far from being averse to gallantry ; but 
 would have liked it more simple than as it was practised 
 at Turin. The ordinary forms would not have disgusted 
 him ; but he found here a sort of superstition in the 
 ceremonies and worship of love, which he thought very 
 inconsistent : however, as he had submitted his conduct 
 in that matter to the direction of the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont, he was obliged to follow his example, and to con- 
 form to the customs of the country. 
 
 They enlisted themselves at the same time in the ser- 
 vice of two beauties, whose former squires gave them up 
 immediately from motives of politeness. The Chevalier 
 de Grammont chose Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain, and 
 told Matta to offer his services to Madame de Senantes. 
 Matta consented, though he liked the other better ; but 
 the Chevalier de Grammont persuaded him that Madame 
 de Senantes was more suitable for him. As he had 
 reaped advantage from the Chevalier's talents in the first 
 projects they had formed, he resolved to follow his in- 
 structions in love, as he had done his advice in play. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain was in the bloom of 
 youth ; her eyes were small, but very bright and spark- 
 ling, and, like her hair, were black ; her complexion was 
 
62 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 lively and clear, though not fair : she had an agreeable 
 mouth, two fine rows of teeth, a neck as handsome as 
 one could wish, and a most delightful shape ; she had a 
 particular elegance in her elbows, which, however, she 
 did not show to advantage ; her hands were rather large 
 and not very white ; her feet, though not of the smallest, 
 were well shaped ; she trusted to Providence, and used 
 no art to set off those graces which she had received from 
 nature ; but, notwithstanding her negligence in the em- 
 bellishment of her charms, there was something so lively 
 in her person, that the Chevalier de Grammont was 
 caught at first sight ; her wit and humor corresponded 
 with her other qualities, being quite easy and perfectly 
 charming ; she was all mirth, all life, all complaisance 
 and politeness, and all was natural, and always the same 
 without any variation. 
 
 The Marchioness de Senantes * was esteemed fair, and 
 she might have enjoyed, if she had pleased, the reputa- 
 tion of having red hair, had she not rather chosen to 
 conform to the taste of the age in which she lived than 
 to follow that of the ancients : she had all the advan- 
 tages of red hair without any of the inconveniences ; a 
 constant attention to her person served as a corrective to 
 the natural defects of her complexion. After all, what 
 does it signify, whether cleanliness be owing to nature 
 or to art ? it argues an invidious temper to be very in- 
 quisitive about it. She had a great deal of wit, a good 
 memory, more reading, and a still greater inclination 
 towards tenderness. 
 
 She had a husband whom it would have been criminal 
 even in chastity to spare. He piqued himself upon being 
 a Stoic, and gloried in being slovenly and disgusting in 
 honor of his profession. In this he succeeded to admira- 
 tion ; for he was very fat, so that he perspired almost as 
 
 * Lord Orford says, the family of Senantes still remains in Piedmont, 
 and bears the title of Marquis de Carailles. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 65 
 
 much in winter as in summer. Erudition and brutality 
 seemed to be the most conspicuous features of his char- 
 acter, and were displayed in his conversation, sometimes 
 together, sometimes alternately, but always disagreeably ; 
 he was not jealous, and yet he was troublesome ; he was 
 very well pleased to see attentions paid to his wife, pro- 
 vided more were paid to him. 
 
 "As soon as our adventurers had declared themselves, 
 the Chevalier de Grammont arrayed himself in green 
 habiliments, and dressed Matta in blue, these being the 
 favorite colors of their new mistresses. They entered 
 immediately upon duty : the Chevalier learned and 
 practised all the ceremonies of this species of gallantry, 
 as if he always had been accustomed to them ; but Matta 
 commonly forgot one-half, and was not over perfect in 
 practising the other. He never could remember that 
 his oflSce was to promote the glory, and not the interest, 
 of his mistress. 
 
 The Duchess of Savoy gave the very next day an en- 
 tertainment at L,a Venerie, * where all the ladies were 
 invited. The Chevalier was so agreeable and diverting, 
 that he made his mistress almost die with laughing. 
 Matta, in leading his lady to the coach, squeezed her 
 hand, and at their return from the promenade he begged 
 
 *This place is tius described by Keysler, Travels, vol. i., p. 235 — 
 "The palace most frequented by the royal family is La Venerie, the 
 court generally continuing there from the spring to December. It is 
 about a league from Turin : the road that leads to it is well paved, and 
 the greatest part of it planted -with trees on each side : it is not always 
 in a direct line, but runs a little winding between iine meadows, fields, 
 and vineyards." After describing the palace as it then was, he adds — 
 "The palace garden at present consists only of hedges and walks, 
 whereas formerly it had fine water-works and grottos, besides the 
 fountain of Hercules and the temple of Diana, of which a description 
 may be seen in the Nouveau Theatre de Piedmont. But now nothing 
 of these remains, being gone to ruin, partly by the ravages of the 
 French, and partly by the king's order that they should be demolished, 
 to make room for something else ; but those vacuities have not yev, 
 and probably will not very soon be filled up." 
 
64 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 of her to pity his sufferings. This was proceeding rather 
 too precipitately, and although Madame de Senantes 
 was not destitute of the natural compassion of her sex, 
 she nevertheless was shocked at the familiarity of this 
 treatment ; she thought herself obliged to show some 
 degree of resentment, and pulling away her hand, which 
 he had pressed with still greater fervency upon this 
 declaration, she went up to the royal apartments without 
 even looking at her new lover. Matta, never thinking 
 that he had offended her, suffered her to go, and went 
 in search of some company to sup with him : nothing 
 was more easy for a man of his disposition ; he soon found 
 what he wanted, sat a long time at table to refresh him- 
 self after the fatigues of love, and went to bed com- 
 pletely satisfied that he had performed his part to perfec- 
 tion. 
 
 During all this time the Chevalier de Grammont 
 acquitted himself towards Mademoiselle de Saint Ger- 
 main with universal applause ; and without remitting 
 his assiduities, he found means to shine, aS they went 
 along, in the relation of a thousand entertaining anec- 
 dotes, which he introduced in the general conversation. 
 Her Royal Highness heard them with pleasure, and the 
 solitary Senantes likewise attended to them. He per- 
 ceived this, and quitted his mistress to inquire what she 
 had done with Matta. 
 
 " I ! " said she, " I have done nothing with him ; but 
 I don't know what he would have done with me if I had 
 been obliging enough to listen to his most humble 
 solicitations." 
 
 She then told him in what manner his friend had 
 treated her the very second day of their acquaintance. 
 
 The Chevalier could not forbear laughing at it ; he 
 told her that Matta was rather too unceremonious, but 
 yet she would like him better as their intimacy more 
 improved, and for her consolation he assured her that 
 he would have spoken in the same manner to her Royal 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 65 
 
 Highness herself ; however, he would not fail to give 
 him a severe reprimand. He went the next morning 
 into his room for that purpose ; but Matta had gone out 
 early in the morning on a shooting party, in which he 
 had been engaged by his supper companions in the pre- 
 ceding evening. At his return he took a brace of par- 
 tridges and went to his mistress. Being asked whether 
 he wished to see the Marquis, he said no ; and the Swiss 
 telling him his lady was not at home, he left his par- 
 tridges, and desired him to present them to his mistress 
 frmn him. 
 
 The Marchioness was at her toilet, and was decorating 
 her head with all the grace she could devise to captivate 
 Matta, at the moment he was denied admittance ; she 
 knew nothing of the matter ; but her husband knew 
 every particular. He had taken it in dudgeon that 
 the first visit was not paid to him, and, as he was 
 resolved that it should not be paid to his wife, the 
 Swiss had received his orders, and had almost been 
 beaten for receiving the present which had been left. 
 The partridges, however, were immediately sent back, 
 and Matta, without examining into the cause, was glad 
 to have them again. He went to court without ever 
 changing his clothes, or in the least considering he 
 ought not to appear there without his lady's colors. He 
 found her becomingly dressed ; her eyes appeared to him 
 more than usually sparkling, and her whole person 
 altogether divine. He began from that day to be much 
 pleased with himself for his complaisance to the Cheva- 
 lier de Grammont ; however, he could not help remark- 
 ing that she looked but coldly upon him. This 
 appeared to him a very extraordinary return for his 
 services, and, imagining that she was unmindful of her 
 weighty obligations to him, he entered into conversation 
 with her, and severely reprimanded her for having sent 
 back his partridges with so much indifference. 
 
 She did not understand what ne meant ; and highly 
 5 
 
66 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 offended that he did not apologize, after the reprimand 
 which she concluded him to have received, told him 
 that he certainly had met with ladies of very complying 
 dispositions in his travels, as he seemed to give to himself 
 airs that she was by no means accustomed to endure. 
 Matta desired to know wherein he could be said to have 
 given himself any. ' ' Wherein ? ' ' said she : ' ' the sec- 
 ond day that you honored me with your attentions, you 
 treated me as if I had been your humble servant for a 
 thousand years ; the first time that I gave you my hand 
 you squeezed it as violently as you were able. After 
 this commencement of your courtship, I got into my 
 coach, and you mounted your horse ; but instead of rid- 
 ing by the side of the coach, as any reasonable gallant 
 would have done, no sooner did a hare start from her 
 form, than you immediately galloped full speed after 
 her ; having regaled yourself, during the promenade, by 
 taking snuff, without ever deigning to bestow a thought 
 on me, the only proof you gave me, on your return, that 
 you recollected me, was by soliciting me to surrender 
 my reputation in terms polite enough, but very explicit. 
 And now you talk to me of having been shooting of par- 
 tridges and of some visit or other, which, I suppose, you 
 have been dreaming of, as well as of all the rest. ' ' 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont now advanced, to the 
 interruption of this whimsical dialogue. Matta was re- 
 buked for his forwardness, and his friend took abundant 
 pains to convince him that his conduct bordered more 
 upon insolence than familiarity. Matta endeavored to 
 exculpate himself, but succeeded ill. His mistress took 
 compassion upon him, and consented to admit his excuses 
 for the manner, rather than his repentance for the fact, 
 and declared it was the intention alone which could 
 either justify or condemn, in such cases ; that it was 
 very easy to pardon those transgressions which arise 
 from excess of tenderness, but not such as proceeded 
 from too great a presumption of success. Matta 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 67 
 
 swore that he only squeezed her hand from the vio- 
 lence of his passion, and that he had been driven, 
 by necessity, to ask her to relieve it ; that he was yet a 
 novice in the arts of solicitation ; that he could not pos- 
 sibly think her more worthy of his affection, after a 
 month's service, than at the present moment ; and that 
 he entreated her to cast away an occasional thought upon 
 him when her leisure admitted. The Marchioness was 
 not offended; she saw very well that she must require an 
 implicit conformity to the established rule of decorum, 
 when she had to deal with such a character ; and the 
 Chevalier de Grammont, after this sort of reconciliation, 
 went to look after his own affair with Mademoiselle de 
 St. Germain. 
 
 His concern was not the offspring of mere good nature, 
 nay, it was the reverse ; for no sooner did he perceive that 
 the Marchioness looked with an eye of favor upon him, 
 than this conquest, appearing to him to be more easy 
 than the other, he thought it was prudent to take advan- 
 tage of it, for fear of losing the opportunity, and that he 
 might not have spent all his time to no purpose, in 
 case he should prove unsuccessful with the little St. 
 Germain. 
 
 In the mean time, in order to maintain that authority 
 which he had usurped over the conduct of his friend, he, 
 that very evening, notwithstanding what had been 
 already said, reprimanded him for presuming to appear 
 at court in his morning suit, and without his mistress's 
 badge ; for not having had the wit or prudence to pay 
 his first visit to the Marquis de Senantes, instead of con- 
 suming his time, to no purpose, in inquiries for the lady; 
 and to conclude, he asked him what the devil he meant 
 by presenting her with a brace of miserable red par- 
 tridges. "And why not?" said Matta: "ought they to 
 have been blue, too, to match the cockade and sword- 
 knots you made me wear the other day ? Plague not me 
 with your nonsensical whimsies : my life on it, in one 
 
68 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 fortnight your equal in foppery and folly will not be 
 found throughout the confines of Turin ; but to reply to 
 your questions, I did not call upon Monsieur de Senantes, 
 because I had nothing to do with him, and because he is 
 of a species of animals which I dislike, and always shall 
 dislike: as for you, you appear quite charmed with being 
 decked out in green ribands, with writing letters to your 
 mistress, and filling your pockets with citrons, pistachios, 
 and such sort of stuff, with which you are always cram- 
 ming the poor girl's mouth, in spite of her teeth : you 
 hope to succeed by chanting ditties composed in the days 
 of Corisande and of Henry IV., which you will swear 
 yourself have made upon her : happy in practising the 
 ceremonials of gallantry, you have no ambition for the 
 essentials. Very well : every one has a particular way 
 of acting, as well as a particular taste : yours is to trifle 
 in love ; and, provided you can make Mademoiselle de 
 St. Germain laugh, you are satisfied : as for my part, I 
 am persuaded, that women here are made of the same 
 materials as in other places ; and I do not think that they 
 can be mightily ofiended, if one sometimes leaves off tri- 
 fling, to come to the point : however, if the Marchioness 
 is not of this way of thinking, she may e'en provide her- 
 self elsewhere, for I can assure her, that I shall not long 
 act the part of her squire. ' ' 
 
 This was an unnecessary menace ; for the Marchioness 
 in reality liked him very well, was nearly of the same 
 way of thinking herself, and wished for nothing more 
 than to put his gallantry to the test. But Matta pro- 
 ceeded upon a wrong plan ; he had conceived such an 
 aversion for her husband, that he could not prevail upon 
 himself to make the smallest advance towards his good 
 graces. He was given to understand that he ought to 
 begin by endeavoring to lull the dragon to sleep, before 
 he could gain possession of the treasure ; but this was all 
 to no purpose, though, at the same time, he could never 
 see his mistress but in public. This made him impa- 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUN'T GRAMMONT. 69 
 
 tient, and as iie was lamenting his ill-fortune to her one 
 day: "Have the goodness, madame," said he, " to let me 
 know where you live : there is never a day that I do not 
 call upon you, at least, three or four times, without ever 
 being blessed with a sight of you. " "I generally sleep 
 at home," replied she, laughing, "but I must tell you, 
 that you will never find me there, if you do not first pay 
 a visit to the Marquis : I am not mistress of the house. 
 I do not tell you," continued she, "that he is a man 
 whose acquaintance any one would very impatiently 
 covet for his conversation : on the contrary, I agree that 
 his humor is* fantastical, and his manners not of the 
 pleasing cast ; but there is nothing so savage and inhu- 
 man which a little care, attention, and complaisance 
 may not tame into docility. I must repeat to you some 
 verses upon the subject: I have got them by heart, because 
 they contain a little advice, which you may accommo- 
 date, if you please, to your own case. ' ' 
 
 RONDEAU. 
 
 Keep in rtiind these maxims rare, 
 You who hope to win the fair; 
 Who are, or would esteemed be, 
 The quintessence of gallantry. 
 
 That fopp'ry, grinning, and grimace, 
 And fertile store of common-place ; 
 That oaths as false as dicers swear, 
 And iv'ry teeth, and scented hair ; 
 That trinkets, and the pride of dress, 
 Can only give your scheme success. 
 
 Keep in mind. 
 
 Hast thy charmer e'er an aunt ? 
 Then learn the rules of woman's cant. 
 And forge a tale, and swear you read it, 
 Such as, save woman, none would credit : 
 Win o'er her confidante and pages 
 By gold, for this a golden age is ; 
 
70 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 And should it be her wayward fate, 
 To be encumbered with a mate, 
 A dull, old dotard should he be. 
 That dulness claims thy courtesy. 
 
 Keep in mind. 
 
 "Truly," said Matta, "the song may say what it 
 pleases, but I cannot put it in practice : your husband 
 is far too exquisite a monster for me. Why, what a 
 plaguey odd ceremony do you require of us in this coun- 
 try, if we cannot pay our compliments to the wife with- 
 out being in love with the husband ! " 
 
 The Marchioness was much offended at this answer ; 
 and as she thought she had done enough in pointing out 
 to him the path which would conduct him to success, if 
 he had deserved it, she did not think it worth while to 
 enter into any farther explanation ; since he refused to 
 cede, for her sake, so trifling an objection : from this in- 
 stant she resolved to have done with him. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont had taken leave of his 
 mistress nearly at the same time : the ardor of his pur- 
 suit was extinguished. It was not that Mademoiselle de 
 Saint Germain was less worthy than hitherto of his atten- 
 tions : on the contrary her attractions visibly increased : 
 she retired to her pillow with a thousand charms, and 
 ever rose from it with additional beauty : the phrase of 
 increasing in beauty as she increased in years seemed to 
 have been purposely made for her. The Chevalier could 
 not deny these truths, but yet he could not find his 
 account in them : a little less merit, with a little less dis- 
 cretion, would have been more agreeable. He perceived 
 that she attended to him with pleasure, that she was 
 diverted with his stories as much as he could wish, and 
 that she received his billets and presents without scruple ; 
 but then he also discovered that she did not wish to pro- 
 ceed any farther. He had exhausted every species of 
 address upon her, and all to no purpose : her attendant 
 was gained : her family, charmed with the music of his 
 
MfiMOIRS OF COtlMY GRAMMONY. 71 
 
 conversation and his great attention, were never happy 
 without him : in short, he had reduced to practice the 
 advice contained in the Marchioness's song, and every- 
 thing conspired to deliver the little Saint Germain into 
 his hands, if the little Saint Germain had herself been 
 willing : but alas ! she was not inclined. It was in vain 
 he told her the favor he desired would cost her nothing ; 
 and that since these treasures were rarely comprised in 
 the fortune a lady brings with her in marriage, she would 
 never find any person, who, by unremitting tenderness, 
 unwearied attachment, and inviolable secrecy, would 
 prove more worthy of them than himself. He then told 
 her no husband was ever able to convey a proper idea of 
 the sweets of love, and that nothing could be more diflfer- 
 ent than the passionate fondness of a lover, always ten- 
 der, always affectionate, yet always respectful, and the 
 careless indifference of a husband. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Saint Germain, not wishing to take 
 the matter in a serious light, that she might not be 
 forced to resent it, answered, that since it was generally 
 the custom in her country to marry, she thought it was 
 right to conform to it, without entering into the knowl- 
 edge of those distinctions, and those marvellous particu- 
 lars, which she did not very well understand, and of 
 which she did not wish to have any further explanation ; 
 that she had submitted to listen to him this one time, 
 but desired he would never speak to her again in the 
 same strain, since such sort of conversation was neither 
 entertaining to her, nor could be serviceable to him. 
 Though no one was ever more facetious than Madem- 
 oiselle de Saint Germain, she yet knew how to assume 
 a very serious air, whenever occasion required it. The 
 Chevalier de Grammont soon saw that she was in ear- 
 nest ; and finding it would cost him a great deal of time 
 to effect a change in her sentiments, he was so far 
 cooled in this pursuit, that he only made use of it to 
 hide the designs he had upon the Marchioness de Se- 
 nantes. 
 
72 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 He found this lady much disgusted at Matta's want of 
 complaisance ; and his seeming contempt for her erased 
 every favorable impression which she had once enter- 
 tained for him. While she was in this humor, the 
 Chevalier told her that her resentment was just ; he ex- 
 aggerated the loss which his friend had sustained ; he 
 told her that her charms were a thousand times superior 
 to those of the little Saint Germain, and requested that 
 favor for himself which his friend did not deserve. He 
 was soon favorably heard upon this topic ; and as soofi 
 as they were agreed, they consulted upon two measures 
 necessary to be taken, the one to deceive her husband, 
 the other his friend, which was not very difficult : Matta 
 was not at all suspicious : and the stupid Senantes, to- 
 wards whom the Chevalier had already behaved as Matta 
 had refused to do, could not be easy without him. This 
 was much more than was wanted ; for as soon as ever the 
 Chevalier was with the Maichioness, her husband imme- 
 diately joined them out of politeness ; and on no account 
 would have left them alone together, for fear they should 
 grow weary of each other without him. 
 
 Matta, who all this time was entirely ignorant that he 
 was disgraced, continued to serve his mistress in his own 
 way. She had agreed with the Chevalier de Grammont, 
 that to all appearance everything should be carried on as 
 before ; so that the court always believed that the Mar- 
 chioness only thought of Matta, and that the Chevalier 
 was entirely devoted to Mademoiselle de Saint Germain. 
 
 There were very frequently little lotteries for trinkets : 
 the Chevalier de Grammont always tried his fortune, and 
 was sometimes fortunate ; and under pretence of the 
 prizes he had won, he bought a thousand things which 
 he indiscreetly gave to the Marchioness, and which she 
 still more indiscreetly accepted : the little Saint Germain 
 very seldom received anything. There are meddling 
 whisperers everywhere : remarks were made upon these 
 proceedings ; and the same person that made them com- 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNY GRAMMON*. 73 
 
 municated them likewise to Mademoiselle de Saint Ger- 
 main. She pretended to laugh, but in reality was piqued. 
 It is a maxim religiously observed by the fair sex, to 
 envy each other those indulgences which themselves 
 refuse. She took this very ill of the Marchioness. On 
 the other hand, Matta was asked if he was not old enough 
 to make his own presents himself to the Marchioness de 
 Senantes, without sending them by the Chevalier de 
 Grammont. This roused him ; for of himself, he would 
 never have perceived it : his suspicions, however, were 
 but slight, and he was willing to have them removed. 
 "I must confess," said he to the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont, " that they make love here quite in a new style ; 
 a man serves here without reward : he addresses himself 
 to the husband when he is in love with the wife, and 
 makes presents to another man's mistress, to get into the 
 good graces of his own. The Marchioness is much ob- 
 liged to 'you for " "It is you who are obliged," 
 
 replied the Chevalier, "since this was done on your 
 account : I was ashamed to find you had never yet 
 thought of presenting her with any trifling token of your 
 attention : do you know that the people of this court 
 have such extraordinary notions, as to think that it is 
 rather owing to inadvertency that you never yet have 
 had the spirit to make your mistress the smallest pres- 
 ent ? For shame ! how ridiculous it is, that you can 
 never think for yourself ! ' ' 
 
 Matta took this rebuke, without making any answer, 
 being persuaded that he had in some measure deserved 
 it : besides, he was neither sufficiently jealous, nor suffi- 
 ciently amorous, to think any more of it ; however, as 
 it was necessary for the Chevalier's affairs that Matta 
 should be acquainted with the Marquis de Senantes, he 
 plagued him so much about it, that at last he complied. 
 His friend introduced him, and his mistress seemed 
 pleased with this proof of complaisance, though she was 
 resolved that he should gain nothing by it : and the hus- 
 
74 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONf. 
 
 band, being gratified with a piece of civility which he 
 had long expected, determined, that very evening, to 
 give them a supper at a little country seat of his, on the 
 banks of the river, very near the city. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont answering for them both, 
 accepted the offer ; and as this was the only one Matta 
 would not have refused from the Marquis, he likewise 
 consented. The Marquis came to convey them in his 
 carriage at the hour appointed ; but he found only Matta. 
 The Chevalier had engaged himself to play, on purpose 
 that they might go without him : Matta was for waiting 
 for him, so great was his fear of being left alone with 
 the Marquis ; but the Chevalier having sent to desire 
 them to go on before, and that he would be with them 
 as soon as he had finished his game, poor Matta was ob' 
 liged to set out with the man who, of all the world, was 
 most offensive to him. It was not the Chevalier's inten- 
 tion quickly to extricate Matta out of this embarrass- 
 ment : he no sooner knew that they were gone, than he 
 waited on the Marchioness, under pretence of still find- 
 ing her husband, that they might all go together to 
 supper. 
 
 The plot was in a fair way ; and as the Marchioness 
 was of opinion that Matta' s indifference merited no bet- 
 ter treatment from her, she made no scruple of acting 
 her part in it : she therefore waited for the Chevalier de 
 Grammont with intentions so much the more favorable, 
 as she had for a long time expected him, and had 
 some curiosity to receive a visit from him in the 
 absence of her husband. We may therefore suppose 
 that this first opportunity would not have been lost, 
 if Mademoiselle de Saint Germain had not unex- 
 pectedly come in, almost at the same time with the 
 Chevalier. 
 
 She was more handsome and more entertaining that 
 day than she had ever been before ; however, she appeared 
 to them very ugly and very tiresome : she soon perceived 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 75 
 
 that her company was disagreeable, and being deter- 
 mined that they should not be out of humor with her 
 for nothing, after having passed above a long half hour 
 in diverting herself with their uneasiness, and in playing 
 a thousand monkey tricks, which she plainly saw could 
 never be more unseasonable, she pulled off her hood, 
 scarf, and all that part of her dress which ladies lay 
 aside, when in a familiar manner they intend to pass the 
 day anywhere. The Chevalier de Grammont cursed her 
 in his heart, while she continued to torment him for being 
 in such ill-humor in such good company : at last the 
 Marchioness, who was as much vexed as he was, said 
 rather drily that she was obliged to wait on her Royal 
 Highness : Mademoiselle de Saint Germain told her that 
 she would have the honor to accompany her, if it would 
 not be disagreeable : she took not the smallest notice of 
 her oflFer ; and the Chevalier, finding that it would be 
 entirely useless to prolong his visit at that time, retired 
 with a good grace. 
 
 As soon as he had left the house, he sent one of his 
 scouts to desire the Marquis to sit down to table with his 
 company without waiting for him, because the game 
 might not perhaps be finished as soon as he expected, 
 but that he would be with him before supper was over. 
 Having despatched this messenger, he placed a sentinel 
 at the Marchioness's door, in hopes that the tedious Saint 
 Germain might go out before her ; but this was in vain, 
 for his spy came and told him, after an hour's impatience 
 and suspense, that they were gone out together. He 
 found that there was no chance of seeing her again that 
 day, everything falling out contrary to his wishes ; he 
 was forced therefore to leave the Marchioness, and go in 
 quest of the Marquis. 
 
 While these things were going on in the city, Matta 
 was not much diverted in the country : as he was preju- 
 diced against the Marquis, all that he said displeased 
 him : he cursed the Chevalier heartily for the t^te-i-t^te 
 
IB MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 which he had procured him ; and he was upon the point 
 of going away, when he found that he was to sit down to 
 supper without any other company. 
 
 However, as his host was very choice in his entertain- 
 ments, and had the best wine and the best cook in all 
 Piedmont, the sight of the first course appeased him ; 
 and eating most voraciously, without paying any atten- 
 tion to the Marquis, he flattered himself that the supper 
 would end without any dispute ; but he was mistaken. 
 
 When the Chevalier de Grammont was at first endeav- 
 oring to bring about an intercourse between the Marquis 
 and Matta, he had given a very advantageous character 
 of the latter, to make the former more desirous of his ac 
 quaintance; and in the display of a thousand other accom- 
 plishments, knowing what an infatuation the Marquis 
 had for the very name of erudition, he assured him that 
 Matta was one of the most learned men in Europe. 
 
 The Marquis, therefore, from the moment they sat 
 down to supper, had expected some stroke of learning 
 from Matta, to bring his own into play ; but he was much 
 out in his reckoning; no one had read less, no one thought 
 less, and no one had ever spoken so little at an entertain- 
 ment as he had done : as he did not wish to enter into 
 con-^ersation, he opened his mouth only to eat, or ask 
 for wine. 
 
 The other, being ofiended at a silence which appeared 
 to him afiected, and wearied with having uselessly 
 attacked him upon other subjects, thought he might get 
 something out of him by changing the discourse of love 
 and gallantry ; and therefore, to begin the subject, he ac- 
 costed him in this manner : 
 
 "Since you are my wife's gallant " "I!" said 
 
 Matta, who wished to carry it discreetly: "those who 
 told you so, told a d — d lie." "Zounds, sir," said 
 the Marquis, ' ' you speak in a tone which does not at all 
 become you, for I would have you to know, notwith- 
 standing your contemptuous airs, that the Marchioness 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 77 
 
 ■ie Senantes is perhaps as worthy of your attentions as 
 any of your French ladies, and that I have known some 
 greatly your superiors, who have thought it an honor to 
 serve her." "Very well," said Matta, "I think she is 
 very deserving, and since you insist upon it, I am her 
 servant and gallant, to oblige you." 
 
 "You think, perhaps," continued the other, "that the 
 same custom prevails in this country as in your own, and 
 that the ladies have lovers, with no other intentions than 
 to grant them favors : undeceive yourself, if you please, 
 and know, likewise, that even if such events were fre- 
 quent in this court, I should not be at all uneasy." 
 "Nothing can be more civil," said Matta ; but where- 
 fore would you not?" " I will tell you why," replied 
 he : "I am well acquainted with the affection my wife 
 entertains for me : I am acquainted with her discretion 
 towards all the world ; and, what is more, I am acquainted 
 with my own merit. ' ' 
 
 "You have a most uncommon acquaintance, then," 
 replied Matta ; " I congratulate you upon it ; I have the 
 honor to drink it in a bumper. ' ' The Marquis pledged 
 him ; but seeing that the conversation dropped on their 
 ceasing to drink, after two or three healths, he wished 
 to make a second attempt, and attack Matta on his strong 
 side, that is to say, on his learning. 
 
 He desired him, therefore, to tell him, at what time he 
 thought the AUobroges came to settle in Piedmont. 
 Matta, who wished him and his AUobroges at the 
 devil, said, that it must be in the time of the civil wars. 
 "I doubt that," said the other. "Just as you like," 
 said Matta. "Under what consulate?" replied the 
 Marquis. "Under that of the I^eague," said Matta, 
 "when the Guises brought the I,ansquenets into France; 
 but what the devil does that signify ? " 
 
 The Marquis was tolerably warm, and naturally sav- 
 age, so that God knows how the conversation would 
 have ended, if the Chevalier de Grammont had not un- 
 
78 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 expectedly come in to appease them. It was some time 
 before he could find out what their debate was ; for the 
 one had forgotten the questions, and the other the 
 answers, which had disobliged him, in order to reproach 
 the Chevalier with his eternal passion for play, which 
 made him always uncertain. The Chevalier, who knew 
 that he was still more culpable than they thought, bore 
 it all with patience, and condemned himself more than 
 they desired : this appeased them ; and the entertain- 
 ment ended with greater tranquility than it had begun. 
 The conversation was again reduced to order ; but he 
 could not enliven it as he usually did. He was in very 
 ill humor, and as he pressed them every minute to rise 
 from the table, the Marquis was of opinion that he had 
 lost a great deal. Matta said, on the contrary, that he 
 had won ; but for want of precautions had made perhaps 
 an unfortunate retreat ; and asked him if he had not 
 stood in need of Serjeant L,a Place, with his ambus- 
 cade. 
 
 This piece of history was beyond the comprehension 
 of the Marquis, and being afraid that Matta might ex- 
 plain it, the Chevalier changed the discourse, and was 
 for rising from the table : but Matta would not consent 
 to it. This effected a reconciliation between him and the 
 Marquis, who thought this was a piece of civility intended 
 for him ; however it was not for him, but for his wine to 
 which Matta had taken a prodigious liking. 
 
 The Duchess, who knew the character of the Marquis, 
 was charmed with the account which the Chevalier de 
 Grammont gave her of the entertainment and conversa- 
 tion : she sent for Matta to know the truth of it from 
 himself : he confessed, that before the Allobroges were 
 mentioned the Marquis was for quarrelling with him, 
 because he was not in love with his wife. 
 
 Their acquaintance having begun in this manner, all 
 the esteem which the Marquis had formerly expressed 
 for the Chevalier seemed now directed towards Matta : he 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 79 
 
 went every day to pay Matta a visit, and Matta was every 
 day with his wife. This did not at all suit the Cheva- 
 lier : he repented of his having chid Matta, whose assi- 
 duity now interrupted all his schemes; and the Marchion- 
 ess was still more embarrassed. Whatever wit a man 
 may have, it will never please where his company is 
 disliked ; and she repented that she had been formerly 
 guilty of some trifling advances towards him. 
 
 Matta began to find charms in her person, and might 
 have found the same in her conversation, if she had been 
 inclined to display them ; but it is impossible to be in 
 good humor with persons who thwart our designs. 
 While his passion increased, the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont was solely occupied in endeavoring to find out 
 some method, by which he might accomplish his 
 intrigue ; and this was the stratagem which he put into 
 execution to clear the coast, by removing, at one and 
 the same time, both the lover and the husband. 
 
 He told Matta, that they ought to invite the Marquis 
 to supper at their lodgings, and he would take upon him- 
 self to provide everything proper for the occasion. 
 Matta desired to know if it was to play at quinze, and 
 assured him that he should take care to render abortive 
 any intention he might have to engage in play, and 
 leave him alone with the greatest blockhead in all 
 Europe. The Chevalier de Grammont did not entertain 
 any such thought, being persuaded that it would be im- 
 possible to take advantage of any such opportunity, in 
 whatever manner he might take his measures ; and that 
 they would seek for him in every corner of the city 
 rather than allow him the least repose : his whole atten- 
 tion was therefore employed in rendering the entertain- 
 ment agreeable, in finding out means of prolonging it, in 
 order ultimately to kindle some dispute between the 
 Marquis and Matta. For this purpose he put himself in 
 the best humor in the world, and the wine produced the 
 same effect on the rest of the company. 
 
tJO MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont expressed his concern 
 that he had not been able to give the Marquis a little 
 concert, as he had intended in the morning; for the 
 musicians had been all pre-engaged. Upon this the 
 Marquis undertook to have them at his country-house 
 the following evening, and invited the same company 
 to sup with him there. Matta asked what the devil 
 they wanted with music, and maintained that it was of 
 no use on such occasions but for women who had some- 
 thing to say to their lovers, while the fiddles prevented 
 them from being overheard, or for fools who had nothing 
 to say when the music ended. They ridiculed all his 
 arguments : the party was fixed for the next day, and 
 the music was voted by the majority of voices. The 
 Marquis, to console Matta, as well as to do honor to the 
 entertainment, toasted a great many healths : Matta was 
 more ready to listen to his arguments on this topic than 
 in a dispute ; but the Chevalier, perceiving that a little 
 would irritate them, desired nothing more earnestly 
 than tc see them engaged in some new controversy. It 
 was in vain that he had from time to time started some 
 subject of discourse with this intention ; but having 
 luckily thought of asking what was his lady's maiden 
 name, Senantes, who was a great genealogist, as all 
 fools are who have good memories, immediately began 
 by tracing out her family, by an endless, confused string 
 of lineage. The Chevalier seemed to listen to him with 
 great attention ; and perceiving that Matta was almost 
 out of patience, he desired him to attend to what the 
 Marquis was saying, for that nothing could be more 
 entertaining. ' ' All this may be very true, ' ' said Matta ; 
 ' ' but for my part, I must confess, if I were married, I 
 should rather choose to inform myself who was the real 
 father of my children, than who were my wife's grand- 
 fathers." The Marquis, smiling at this rudeness, did 
 not leave oif until he had traced back the ancestors of 
 his spouse, from line to line, as far as Yolande de Se- 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 81 
 
 nantes : after this he offered to prove, in less than half 
 an hour, that the Grammonts came originally from 
 Spain. "Very well," said Matta, "and pray what 
 does it signify to us from whence the Grammonts are 
 descended ? Do not you know, sir, that it is better to 
 know nothing at all, than to know too much ? ' ' 
 
 The Marquis maintained the contrary with great 
 warmth, and was preparing a formal argument to prove 
 that an ignorant man is a fool ; but the Chevalier de 
 Grammont, who was thoroughly acquainted with Matta, 
 saw very clearly that he would send the logician to the 
 devil before he should arrive at the conclusion of his 
 syllogism : for which reason, interposing as soon as they 
 began to raise their voices, he told them it was ridic- 
 ulous to quarrel about an affair in itself so trivial, and 
 treated the matter in a serious light, that it might 
 make the greater impression. Thus supper terminated 
 peaceably, owing to the care he took to suppress all 
 disputes, and to substitute plenty of wine in their stead. 
 
 The next day Matta went to the chase, the Chevalier 
 de Grammont to the bagnio, and the Marquis to his 
 country house. While the latter was making the neces- 
 sary preparations for his guests, not forgetting the 
 music, and Matta pursuing his game to get an appe- 
 tite, the Chevalier was meditating on the execution of 
 his project. 
 
 As soon as he had regulated his plan of operations in 
 his own mind, he privately sent anonymous intel- 
 *ligence to the ofl&cer of the guard at the palace that 
 the Marquis de Senantes had had some words with 
 Monsieur de Matta the preceding night at supper ; thati 
 the one had gone out in the morning, and the other 
 could not be found in the city. 
 
 Madame Royale, alarmed at this advice, immediately 
 sent for the Chevalier de Grammont : he appeared sur- 
 prised when her highness mentioned the affair : he con- 
 fessed, indeed, that some high words had passed between 
 6 
 
82 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 them, but that he did not believe either of them would 
 have remembered them the next day. He said that if 
 no mischief had yet taken place, the best way would 
 be to secure them both until the morning, and that if 
 they could be found, he would undertake to reconcile 
 them, and to obliterate all grievances : in this there was 
 no great difl&culty. On inquiry at the Marquis's they 
 were informed that he was gone to his country-house : 
 there certainly he was, and there they found him ; the 
 officer put him under an arrest, without assigning any 
 reason for so doing, and left him in very great surprise. 
 Immediately upon Matta's return from hunting, her 
 Royal Highness sent the same officer to desire him to 
 give her his word that he would not stir out that even- 
 ing. This compliment very much surprised him, more 
 particularly as no reason was assigned for it. He was 
 expected at a good entertainment, he was dying with 
 hunger, and nothing appeared to him more unreasonable 
 than to oblige him to stay at home, in a situation like 
 the present ; but he had given his word, and not know- 
 ing to what this might tend, his only resource was to 
 send for his friend ; but his friend did not come to him 
 until his return from the country. He had there found 
 the Marquis in the midst of his fiddlers, and very much 
 vexed to find himself a prisoner in his own house on ac- 
 count of Matta, whom he was waiting for in order to 
 feast him : he complained of him bitterly to the Cheva- 
 lier de Grammont : he said that he did not believe that 
 he had ofiended him ; but that, since he was very desir- 
 ous of a quarrel, he desired the Chevalier to acquaint 
 him, if he felt the least displeasure on the present occa- 
 sion, he should, on the very first opportunity, receive 
 what is called satisfaction. The Chevalier de Grammont 
 assured him that no such thought had ever entered the 
 mind of Matta ; that on the contrary, he knew that he 
 very greatly esteemed him ; that all this could alone 
 arise from the extreme tenderness of his lady, who, being 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 83 
 
 alarmed upon the report of the servants who waited at 
 table, must have gone to her Royal Highness, in order 
 to prevent any unpleasant consequences ; that he thought 
 this the more probable, as he had often told the Mar- 
 chioness, when speaking of Matta, that he was the best 
 swordsman in France. 
 
 The Marquis, being a little pacified, said he was very 
 much obliged to him, that he would severely chide his 
 wife for her unseasonable tenderness, and that he was 
 extremely desirous of again enjoying the pleasure of his 
 dear friend Matta' s company. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont assured him that he 
 would use all his endeavors for that purpose, and at the 
 same time gave strict charge to his guard not to let him 
 escape without orders from the Court, as he seemed fully 
 bent upon fighting, and they would be responsible for 
 him : there was no occasion to say more to have him 
 strictly watched, though there was no necessity for it. 
 
 One being thus safely lodged, his next step was to 
 secure the other : he returned immediately to town : and 
 as soon as Matta saw him, ' ' What the devil, ' ' said he, 
 "is the meaning of this farce which I am obliged to act? 
 for my part, I cannot understand the foolish customs of 
 this country ; how comes it that they make me a prisoner 
 upon my parole ? " " How comes it ? " said the Cheva- 
 lier de Grammont, "it is because you yourself are far 
 more unaccountable than all their customs ; you cannot 
 help disputing with a peevish fellow, whom you ought 
 only to laugh at ; some officious footman has no doubt 
 been talking of your last night's dispute ; you were seen 
 to go out of town in the morning, and the Marquis soon 
 after ; was not this Sufficient to make her Royal High- 
 ness think herself obliged to take these precautions? 
 The Marquis is in custody ; they have only required your 
 parole ; so far, therefore, from taking the affair in the 
 sense you do, I should send very humbly to thank her 
 Highness for the kindness she has manifested towards 
 
84 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 you in putting you under arrest, since it is only on your 
 account that she interests herself in the affair. ' ' 
 
 Matta charged him not to fail to express to her Royal 
 Highness the grateful sense he had of her favor, though 
 in truth he as little feared the Marquis as he loved him ; 
 and it is impossible to express the degree of his fortitude 
 in stronger terms. 
 
 As soon as the Chevalier de Grammont perceived that 
 everything coincided with his wishes, and that towards 
 the end of the entertainment the toasts went merrily 
 round, he knew he was sure of his man till next day : 
 then taking him aside with the permission of the com- 
 pany, and making use of a false confidence in order to 
 disguise a real treachery, he acquainted him, after hav- 
 ing sworn him several times to secrecy, that he had at 
 last prevailed upon the little Saint Germain to grant him 
 an interview that night ; for which reason he would take 
 his leave, under pretence of going to play at Court ; he 
 therefore desired him fully to satisfy the company that 
 he would not have left them on any other account, as 
 the Piedmontese are naturally mistrustful. Matta prom- 
 ised he would manage this point with discretion ; that he 
 would make an apology for him, and that there was no 
 occasion for his personally taking leave : then, after con- 
 gratulating him upon the happy posture of his affairs, he 
 sent him away with all the expedition and secrecy im- 
 aginable ; so great was his fear lest his friend should 
 lose the present opportunity. . 
 
 Matta then returned to the company, much pleased 
 with the confidence which had been placed in him, and 
 with the share he had in the success of this adventure. 
 
 It was late at night before the company broke up, and 
 Matta went to bed, very well satisfied with what he had 
 done for his friend ; and, if we may credit appearances, 
 this friend enjoyed the fruit of his perfidy. The amorous 
 Marchioness received him like one who wished to en- 
 hance the value of the favor she bestowed ; her charms 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONf. 
 
 85 
 
 were far from being neglected ; and if there are any cir- 
 cumstances in which we may detest the traitor while we 
 profit by the treason, this was not one of them ; and how- 
 ever successful the Chevalier de Grammont was in his 
 intrigues, it was not owing to him that the contrary was 
 not believed ; but, be that as it may, being convinced 
 that in love whatever is gained by address is gained fairly, 
 it does not appear that he ever showed the smallest de- 
 gree of repentance for this trick. But it is now time 
 for us to take him from the court of Savoy, to see him 
 shine in that of France. 
 
 ANNE OF AUSTRIA. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, upon his return to 
 France, sustained, with the greatest success, the reputa- 
 tion he had acquired abroad : alert in play, active and 
 vigilant in love ; sometimes successful, and always feared, 
 in his intrigues ; in war alike prepared for the events of 
 good or ill fortune ; possessing an inexhaustible fund of 
 pleasantry in the former, and full of expedients and dex- 
 terity in the latter. 
 
 Zealously attached to the Prince de Conde * from in- 
 
 * Louis of Bourbon, Duke d'Enghien, afterwards, by the death of his 
 father in 1656, Prince de Cond^. Of this great man Cardinal de Retz 
 says : " He was bom a general, which never happened but to Caesar, to 
 Spinola, and to himself He has equalled the first : he has surpassed 
 the second. Intrepidity is one of the least shining strokes in his char- 
 acter. Nature had formed him with a mind as great as his courage. 
 Fortune, in setting him out in a time of wars, has given this last a full 
 extent to work in : his birth, or rather his education, in a family de- 
 voted and enslaved to the court, has kept the iirst within too strait 
 bounds. He was not taught time enough the great and general maxims 
 which alone are able to form men to think always consistently. He 
 never had time to learn them of himself, because he was prevented 
 from his youth, by the great affairs that fell unexpectedly to his share, 
 and by the continual success he met with. This defect in him was the 
 cause, that with the soul in the world the least inclined to evil, he has 
 (86J 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNY (iRAMMONT. 87 
 
 clination, he was a witness, and, if we may be allowed 
 to say it, his companion, in the glory he had acquired at 
 the celebrated battles of I,ens, Norlinguen, and Fri- 
 bourg ; * and the details he so frequently gave of them 
 were far from diminishing their lustre. 
 
 So long as he had only some scruples of conscience, 
 and a thousand interests to sacrifice, he quitted all to 
 follow a man, whom strong motives and resentments, 
 which in some manner appeared excusable, had with- 
 drawn from the paths of rectitude : he adhered to him in 
 his first disgrace, with a constancy of which there are 
 few examples ; but he could not submit to the injuries 
 which he afterwards received, and which such an in- 
 violable attachment so little merited. Therefore, with- 
 out fearing any reproach for a conduct which sufiiciently 
 
 committed injuries ; that with the heart of an Alexander, he has, like 
 him, had his failings ; that with a wonderful understanding, he has 
 acted imprudently ; that having all the qualities which the Duke 
 Francis of Guise had, he has not served the state in some occasions so 
 well as he ought ; and that having likewise all the qualities of the 
 Duke Henry of Guise, he has not carried faction so far as he might. 
 He could not come up to the height of his merit ; which, though it be 
 a defect, must yet be owned to be very uncommon, and only to be 
 found in persons of the greatest abilities." Memoirs, vol. i., p. 248, 
 edit. 1723. He retired from the army, soon after the death of Turenne, 
 to Chantilly, "from whence," says Voltaire, "he very rarely came to 
 Versailles, to behold his glory eclipsed in a place where the courtier 
 never regards anything but favor. He passed the remainder of his 
 days, tormented with the gout, relieving the severity of his pains, and 
 employing the leisure of his retreat in the conversation of men of 
 genius of all kinds, with which France then abounded. He was worthy 
 of their conversation ; as he was not unacquainted with any of those 
 arts and sciences in which they shone. He continued to be admired 
 even in his retreat ; but at last that devouring iire, which, in his youth, 
 had made him a hero, impetuous, and full of passions, having consumed 
 the strength of his body, which, was naturally rather agile than robust, 
 he declined before his time ; and the strength of his mind decajdng 
 with that of his body, there remained nothing of the great Cond6 
 during the last two years of his life. He died in i685." Age 0/ Louis 
 XIV., chap. II. He was aged 66 years. 
 * These were fought in the years 1648, 1645, and 1644. 
 
88 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 justified itself, as he had formerly deviated from his 
 duty by entering into the service of the Prince de Condd, 
 he thought he had a right to leave him to return again 
 to his duty. 
 
 His peace was soon made at Court, where many, far 
 more culpaTale than himself, were immediately received 
 in favor, when they desired it ; for the queen, * still ter- 
 rified at the dangers into which the civil wars had 
 plunged the State at the commencement of her regency, 
 endeavored by lenient measures to conciliate the minds 
 of the people. The policy of the minister f was neither 
 
 * Anne of Austria, daughter of Philip III. of Spain, widow of Louis 
 XIII., to whom she was married in 1615, and mother of Louis XIV. 
 She died in 1666. Cardinal de Retz speaks of her in the following 
 terms : "The queen had more than anybody whom I ever knew, of 
 that sort of wit which was necessary for her not to appear a fool to 
 those that did not know her. She had in her more of harshness than 
 haughtiness ; more of haughtiness than of greatness ; more of outward 
 appearance than reahty ; more regard to money than liberality ; more 
 of liberality than of self-interest ; more of self-interest than disinterest- 
 edness : she was more tied to persons by habit than by affection ; she 
 had more of insensibility than of cruelty ; she had a better memory for 
 injuries than for benefits ; her intention towards piety was greater than 
 her piety ; she had in her more of obstinacy than of firmness ; and 
 more incapacity than of all the rest which I mentioned before." Me- 
 moirs, vol. i., p. 247. 
 
 t Cardinal Mazarin, who, during a few of the latter years of his life, 
 governed France. He died at Vincennes the 9th of March, 1661, aged 
 59 years, leaving as heir to his name and property the Marquis de la 
 Meilleray, who married his niece, and took the title of Duke of Mazarin. 
 On his death, Louis XIV. and the court appeared in mourning, an 
 honor not common, though Henry IV. had shown it to the memory of 
 Gabrielle d'Estreds. Voltaire, who appears unwilling to ascribe much 
 ability to the cardinal, takes an opportunity, on occasion of his death, 
 to make the following observation : "We cannot refrain from combat- 
 ing the opinion, which supposes prodigious abiUties, and a genius 
 almost divine, in those who have governed empires with some degree 
 of success. It is not a superior penetration that makes statesmen ; it 
 is their character. All men, how inconsiderable soever their share of 
 sense may be, see their own interest nearly alike. A citizen of Bern 
 or Amsterdam, in this respect, is equal to Sejanus, Ximenes, Bucking- 
 ham, RicheUeu, or Mazarin ; but our conduct and our enterprises de- 
 
MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 89 
 
 sanguinary nor revengeful : his favorite maxim was 
 rather to appease the minds of the discontented by lenity 
 than to have recourse to violent measures ; to be content 
 with losing nothing by the war, without being at the 
 expense of gaining any advantage from the enemy : to 
 suffer his character to be very severely handled, provided 
 he could amass much wealth, and to spin out the minor- 
 ity to the greatest possible extent. 
 
 His avidity to heap up riches was not alone confined 
 to the thousand different means, with which he was fur- 
 nished by his authority, and the situation in which he 
 was placed: his whole pursuit was gain: he was naturally 
 fond of gaming ; but he only played to enrich himself, 
 and therefore, whenever he found an opportunity, he 
 cheated. 
 
 As he found the Chevalier de Grammont possessed a 
 great deal of wit, and a great deal of money, he was a 
 man according to his wishes, and soon became one of his 
 set. The Chevalier soon perceived the artfulness and 
 dishonesty of the Cardinal, and thought it was allowable 
 in him to put in practice those talents which he had 
 received from nature, not only in his own defence, but 
 even to attack him whenever an opportunity offered. This 
 would certainly be the place to mention these particulars; 
 but who can describe them with such ease and elegance 
 as may be expected by those who have heard his own 
 relation of them ? Vain is the attempt to endeavor to 
 transcribe these entertaining anecdotes : their spirit 
 seems to evaporate upon paper ; and in whatever light 
 they are exposed the delicacy of their coloring and their 
 beauty is lost. 
 
 It is, then, enough to say, that upon all occasions 
 where address was reciprocally employed, the Chevalier 
 gained the advantage ; and that if he paid his court badly 
 
 pend absolutely on our natural dispositions, and our success depends 
 upon fortune." Age of Louis XIV., cha.y. $. 
 
90 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 to the minister, he had the consolation to find, that those 
 who suffered themselves to be cheated, in the end gained 
 no great advantage from their complaisance ; for they 
 always continued in an abject submission, while the 
 Chevalier de Grammont, on a thousand different occa- 
 sions, never put himself under the least restraint. Of 
 which the following is one instance: 
 
 The Spanish army, commanded by the Prince de 
 Cond^ and the archduke,* besieged Arras. The Court 
 was advanced as far as Peronne.f The enemy, by the 
 capture of this place, would have procured a reputation 
 for their army of which they were in great need ; as the 
 French, for a considerable time past, had evinced a supe- 
 riority in every engagement. 
 
 The Prince supported a tottering party, as far as their 
 usual inactivity and irresolution permitted him ; but as 
 in the events of war it is necessary to act independently 
 on some occasions, which, if once suffered to escape, can 
 never be retrieved ; for want of this power it frequently 
 happened that his great abilities were of no avail. The 
 Spanish infantry had never recovered itself since the bat- 
 tle of Rocroy ; J and he who had ruined them by that 
 victory, by fighting against them, was the only man 
 who now, by commanding their army, was capable of 
 repairing the mischief he had done them. But the jeal- 
 ousy of the generals, and the distrust attendant upon 
 their counsels, tied up his hands. 
 
 Nevertheless, the siege of Arras § was vigorously 
 
 * Leopold, brother of the Emperor Ferdinand III. 
 
 t A little but strong town, standing among marshes on the river 
 Somme, in Picardy. 
 
 i This famous battle was fought and won 19th May, 1643, five days 
 after the death of Louis XIII. 
 
 ? Voltaire observes, that it was the fortune of Turenne and Condi to 
 be always victorious when they fought at the head of the French, and 
 to be vanquished when they commanded the Spaniards. This was 
 Condi's fate before Arras, August 25, 1654, when he and the archduke 
 besieged that city. Turenne attacked them in their camp, and forced 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 91 
 
 carried on. The Cardinal was very sensible how dis- 
 honorable it would be to suffer this place to be taken 
 under his nose, and almost in sight of the king. On the 
 other hand, it was very hazardous to attempt its relief, 
 the Prince de Cond^ being a man who never neglected 
 the smallest precaution for the security of his lines ; and 
 if lines are attacked and not forced, the greatest danger 
 threatens the assailants. For, the more furious the 
 assault, the greater is the disorder in the retreat ; and no 
 man in the world knew so well as the Prince de Cond^ 
 how to make the best use of an advantage. The army, 
 commanded by Monsieur de Turenne, was considerably 
 weaker than that of the enemy ; it was, likewise, the 
 only resource they had to depend upon. If this army 
 was defeated, the loss of Arras was not the only misfor- 
 tune to be dreaded. 
 
 The Cardinal, whose genius was happily adapted to 
 such jufnctures, where deceitful negotiations could extri- 
 cate him out of difficulties, was filled with terror at the 
 sight of imminent danger, or of a decisive event : he was 
 of opinion to lay siege to some other place, the capture 
 of which might prove an indemnification for the loss of 
 Arras ; but Monsieur de Turenne, who was altogether of 
 a different opinion from the Cardinal, resolved to march 
 towards the enemy, and did not acquaint him with his 
 intentions until he was upon his march. The courier 
 arrived in the midst of his distress, and redoubled 
 his apprehensions and alarms ; but there was then no 
 remedy. 
 
 their lines : the troops of the archduke were cut to pieces ; and Condd, 
 •with two regiments of French and Lorrainers, alone sustained the efforts 
 of Turenne's army ; and, while the archduke was flying, he defeated the 
 Marshal de Hoquincourt, repulsed the Marshal de la Fert6, and retreated 
 victoriously himself, by covering the retreat of the vanquished Span- 
 iards. The king of Spain, in his letter to him after this engagement, 
 had these words : "I have been informed that everything was lost, and 
 that you have recovered everjrthing." 
 
92 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 The Marshal, whose great reputation had gained him 
 the confidence of the troops, had determined upon his 
 measures before an express order from the Court could 
 prevent him. This was one of those occasions in which 
 the difficulties you encounter heighten the glory of suc- 
 cess. Though the general's capacity, in some measure, 
 afforded comfort to the Court, they nevertheless were 
 upon the eve of an event, which in one way or other 
 must terminate both their hopes and their fears : while 
 the rest of the courtiers were giving various opinions 
 concerning the issue, the Chevalier de Grammont deter- 
 mined to be an eye-witness of it ; a resolution which 
 greatly surprised the Court ; for those who had seen as 
 many actions as he had, seemed to be exempted frorn such 
 eagerness ; but it was in vain that his friends opposed 
 his resolutions. 
 
 The king was pleased with his intention ; and the 
 queen appeared no less satisfied. He assured her that he 
 would bring her good news ; and she promised to embrace 
 him, if he was as good as his word. The Cardinal 
 made the same promise : to the latter, however, he 
 did not pay much attention ; yet he believed it sincere, 
 because the keeping of it would cost him nothing. 
 
 He set out in the dusk of the evening with Caseau, 
 whom Monsieur de Turenne had sent express to their 
 majesties. The Duke of York,* and the Marquis 
 d'Humi^res,t commanded under the Marshal : the latter 
 was upon duty when the Chevalier arrived, it being 
 scarce daylight. The Duke of York did not at first rec- 
 
 * Priorato, in his Memoirs of Cardinal Mazarin, mentions other 
 Englishmen besides the Duke of York being present ; as Lords Gerrard, 
 Barclay, and Jermyn, with others. Memoirs, i2mo, 1673, tome i., part 
 
 .3, P- 365- 
 
 t Louis de Crevans, Mar^chal of France. He died 1694. Voltaire says 
 of him, that he was the first who, at the siege of Arras, in 1658, was 
 served in silver in the trenches, and had ragoflts and entremets served 
 up to his table. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 93 
 
 ollect him ; but the Marquis d'Humi^res, running to 
 him with open arms, " I thought, " said he, ' ' if any man 
 came from court to pay us a visit upon such an occasion 
 as this, it would be the Chevalier de Grammont. Well," 
 continued he, "what are they doing at Peronne?" 
 "They are in great consternation," replied the Chevalier. 
 "And what do they think of us?" "They think," 
 said he, ' ' that if you beat the Prince, you will do no 
 more than your duty ; if you are beaten, they will think 
 you fools and madmen, thus to have risked everything, 
 without considering the consequences. " " Truly, ' ' said 
 the Marquis, ' ' you bring us very comfortable news. 
 Will you now go to Monsieur de Turenne's quarters, to 
 acquaint him with it ; or will you choose rather to repose 
 yourself in mine ? for you have been riding post all last 
 night, and perhaps did not experience much rest in the 
 preceding." "Where have you heard that the Chevalier 
 de Grammont had ever any occasion for sleep? " replied 
 he: "Only order me a horse, that I may have the honor 
 to attend the Duke of York ; for, most likely, he is not 
 in the field so early, except to visit some posts. ' ' 
 
 The advanced guard was only at cannon-shot from 
 that of the enemy. As soon as they arrived there, ' ' I 
 should like," said the Chevalier de Grammont, "to ad- 
 vance as far as the sentry which is posted on that emi- 
 nence : I have some friends and acquaintance in their 
 army, whom I should wish to inquire after : I hope the 
 Duke of York will give me permission." At these 
 words he advanced. The sentry, seeing him come for- 
 ward directly to his post, stood upon his guard : the 
 Chevalier stopped as soon as he was within shot of him. 
 The sentry answered the sign which was made to him, 
 and made another to the officer, who had begun to ad- 
 vance as soon as he had seen the Chevalier come forward, 
 and was soon up with him ; but seeing the Chevalier de 
 Grammont alone, he made no difficulty to let him ap- 
 proach. He desired leave of this officer to inquire after 
 
94 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 some relations he had in their army, and at the same 
 time asked if the Duke d' Arscot was at the siege. ' ' Sir, ' ' 
 said he, "there he is, just alighted under those trees, 
 which you see on the left of our grand guard : it is 
 hardly a minute since he was here with the Prince 
 d'Aremberg, his brother, the Baron de Limbec, and 
 Louvigny. " " May I see them upon parole ? ' ' said the 
 Chevalier. " Sir," said he, " if I were allowed to quit 
 my post, I would do myself the honor of accompanying 
 you thither ; but I will send to acquaint them that the 
 Chevalier de Grammont desires to speak to them :" and, 
 after having despatched one of his guard towards them, 
 he returned. " Sir," said the Chevalier de Grammont, 
 ' ' may I take the liberty to inquire how I came to be 
 known to you ? " " Is it possible, ' ' said the other, ' ' that 
 the Chevalier de Grammont should forget La Motte, 
 who had the honor to serve so long in his regiment ? ' ' 
 ' ' What ! is it you, my good friend, La Motte ? Truly, 
 I was to blame for not remembering you, though you 
 are in a dress very different from that which I first saw 
 you in at Bruxelles, when you taught the Duchess 
 of Guise to dance the triolets : and I am afraid your 
 affairs are not in so flourishing a condition as they were 
 the campaign after* I had given you the company you 
 mention." They were talking in this manner, when 
 the Duke d' Arscot, followed by the gentlemen above 
 mentioned, came up on full gallop. The Chevalier de 
 Grammont was saluted by the whole company before he 
 could say a word. Soon after arrived an immense num- 
 ber of others of his acquaintance, with many people, out 
 of curiosity, on both sides, who, seeing him upon the 
 eminence, assembled together with the greatest eager- 
 ness ; so that the two armies, without design, without 
 truce, and without fraud, were going to join in conver- 
 sation, if, by chance, Monsieur de Turenne had not per- 
 ceived it at a distance. The sight surprised him : he 
 hastened that way ; and the Marquis d'Humi^res ac- 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 95 
 
 qnainted him with the arrival of the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont, who wished to speak to the sentry before he went 
 to the head-quarters : he added, that he could not com- 
 prehend how the devil he had managed to assemble both 
 armies around him, for it was hardly a minute since he 
 had left him. "Truly," said Monsieur de Turenne, 
 " he is a very extraordinary man ; but it is only reason- 
 able that he should let us now have a little of his com- 
 pany, since he has paid his first visit to the enemy." 
 At these words he despatched an aide-de-camp, to recall 
 the officers of his army, and to acquaint the Chevalier 
 de Grammont with his impatience to see him. 
 
 This order arrived at the same time, with one of the 
 same nature, to the enemy's officers. The Prince de 
 Cond6, being informed of this peaceable interview, was 
 not the least surprised at it, when he heard that it was 
 occasioned by the arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont. 
 He only gave L,ussan orders to recall the officers, and to 
 desire the Chevalier to meet him at the same place the 
 next day ; which the Chevalier promised to do, provided 
 Monsieur de Turenne should approve of it, as he made 
 no doubt he would. 
 
 His reception in the king's army was equally agree- 
 able as that which he had experienced from the enemy. 
 Monsieur de Turenne esteemed him no less for his frank- 
 ness than for the poignancy of his wit : he took it very 
 kindly that he was the only courtier who came to see 
 him in a time so critical as the present : the questions 
 which he asked him about the court were not so much 
 for information, as to divert himself with his manner of 
 relating their different apprehensions and alarms. The 
 Chevalier de Grammont advised him to beat the enemy, 
 if he did not choose to be answerable for an enterprise 
 which he had undertaken without consulting the Car- 
 dinal. Monsieur de Turenne promised him he would 
 exert himself to the utmost to follow his advice, and 
 assured him, that if he succeeded, he would make the 
 
96 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 queen keep her word with him ; and concluded with 
 saying, that he was not sorry the Prince de Cond6 naa 
 expressed a desire to see him. His measures were taken 
 for an attack upon the lines : on this subject he dis- 
 coursed in private with the Chevalier de Grammont, and 
 concealed nothing from him except the time of execu- 
 tion : but this was all to no purpose ; for the Chevalier 
 had seen too much, not to judge, from his own knowl- 
 edge, and the observations he had made, that from the 
 situation of the army, the attack could be no longer de- 
 ferred. 
 
 He set out the next day for his rendezvous, attended 
 by a trumpet, and found the Prince at the place which 
 Monsieur de L,ussan had described to him the evening 
 before. As soon as he alighted : " Is it possible," said 
 the Prince, embracing him, "that this can be the Cheva- 
 lier de Grammont, and that I should see him in the 
 contrary party?" "It is you, my lord, whom I see 
 there, ' ' replied the Chevalier, ' ' and I refer it to your- 
 self, whether it was the fault of the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont, or your own, that we now embrace different inter- 
 ests. " "I must confess, ' ' said the Prince, ' ' that if there 
 are some who have abandoned me like base, ungrateful 
 wretches, you have left me, as I left myself, like a man 
 of honor, who thinks himself in the right : but let us 
 forget all cause of resentment, and tell me what was 
 your motive for coming here, you, whom I thought at 
 Peronne with the court ? " " Must I tell you ? ' ' said 
 he: "why, faith then, I came to save your life. I 
 knew that you cannot help being in the midst of the 
 enemy in a day of battle ; it is only necessary for youi 
 horse to be shot under you, and to be taken in arms, to 
 meet with the same treatment from this Cardinal as your 
 uncle Montmorency * did from the other. I come, 
 
 * Henry, Duke of Montmorency, -who was taken prisoner first Sep- 
 tember, 1692, and had his head struck off at Toulouse in the month of 
 November following. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 97 
 
 therefore, to hold a horse in readiness for you in -case of 
 a similar misfortune, that you may not lose your head. ' ' 
 "It is not the first time, ' ' said the Prince, smiling, 
 ' ' that you have rendered me this service, though the 
 being taken prisoner at that time could not have been 
 so dangerous to me as now. ' ' 
 
 From this conversation they passed to more entertain- 
 ing subjects. The Prince asked him many questions 
 concerning the court, the ladies, play, and about his 
 amours ; and returning insensibly to the present situa- 
 tion of affairs, the Chevalier having inquired after some 
 officers of his acquaintance, who had remained with him, 
 the Prince told him that if he chose he might go to the 
 lines, where he would have an opportunity not only of 
 seeing those whom he inquired after, but likewise the 
 disposition of the quarters and entrenchments. To this 
 he consented, and the Prince having shown him all the 
 works and attended him back to their rendezvous, 
 "Well, Chevalier," said he, "when do you think we 
 shall see you again ? " " Faith," replied he, " you have 
 used me so handsomely, that I shall conceal nothing 
 from you. Hold yourself in readiness an hour before 
 daybreak ; for, you may depend upon it, we shall attack 
 you to-morrow morning. I would not have acquainted 
 you with this, perhaps, had I been entrusted with the 
 secret, but, nevertheless, in the present case you may 
 believe me." "You are still the same man,." said the 
 Prince, again embracing him. The Chevalier returned 
 to Monsieur de Turenne's camp towards night ; every 
 preparation was then making for the attack of the lines, 
 and it was no longer a secret among the troops. 
 
 "Well, Monsieur le Chevalier, were they all very glad 
 to see you ? ' ' said Monsieur de Turenne ; ' ' the Prince, 
 no doubt, received you with the greatest kindness, and 
 asked a great number of questions ? " " He has shown 
 me all the civility imaginable, ' ' replied the Chevalier ; 
 " and, to convince me he did not take me for a spy, he 
 7 
 
98 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 led me round the lines and entrenchments, and showed 
 me the preparations, he had made for your reception. ' ' 
 "And what is his opinion? " said the Marshal. " He is 
 persuaded that you will attack him to-night, or to-mor- 
 row by daybreak ; for you great captains," continued 
 the Chevalier, "see through each other's designs in a 
 wonderful manner." 
 
 Monsieur de Turenne, with pleasure, received this 
 commendation from a man who was not indiscriminately 
 accustomed to bestow praise. He communicated to him 
 the disposition of the attack ; and at the same time 
 acquainted him that he was very happy that a man who 
 had seen so many actions was to be present at this ; and 
 that he esteemed it no small advantage to have the ben- 
 efit of his advice, but as he believed that the remaining 
 part of the night would be hardly sufficient for his re- 
 pose, after having passed the former without any refresh- 
 ment, he consigned him to the Marquis d'Humi^res, 
 who provided him with a supper and a lodging. 
 
 The next day the lines of Arras were attacked, wherein 
 Monsieur de Turenne, being victorious, added additional 
 lustre to his former glory ; and the Prince de Cond6, 
 though vanquished, lost nothing of his former reputa- 
 tion. 
 
 There are so many accounts of this celebrated battle, 
 that to mention it here would be altogether superfluous. 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, who, as a volunteer, was 
 permitted to go into every part, has given a better de- 
 scription of it than any other person. Monsieur de 
 Turenne reaped great advantage from that activity which 
 never forsook the Chevalier either in peace or war ; and 
 that presence of mind which enabled him to carry 
 orders, as coming from the general, so very apropos, 
 that Monsieur de Turenne, otherwise very particular 
 in such matters, thanked him, when the battle was 
 over, in the presence of all his officers, and despatched 
 him to court with the first news of his success. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 99 
 
 All that is generally necessary in these expeditions is 
 to be accustomed to hard riding, and to be well provided 
 with fresh horses, but he had a great many other ob- 
 stacles to surmount. In the first place, the parties of the 
 enemy were dispersed over all the country, and ob- 
 structed his passage. Then he had to prepare against 
 greedy and ofl&cious courtiers, who, on such occasions, 
 post themselves in all the avenues, in order to cheat 
 the poor courier out of his news. However, his ad- 
 dress preserved him from the one, and deceived the 
 others. 
 
 He had taken eight or ten troopers, commanded by 
 an officer of his acquaintance, to escort him half way to 
 Bapaume, * being persuaded that the greatest danger 
 would lie between the camp and the first stage. He had 
 not proceeded a league before he was convinced of the 
 truth of what he suspected, and turning to the officer, 
 who followed him closely, ' ' If you are not well mounted, ' ' 
 said he, "I would advise you to return to the camp ; for 
 my part, I shall set spurs to my horse, and make the 
 best of my way." "Sir," said the officer, "I hope I 
 shall be able to keep you company, at whatever rate you 
 go, until you are out of all danger." "I doubt that," 
 replied the Chevalier, "for those gentlemen there seem 
 prepared to pay us a visit." "Don't you see," said the 
 officer, " they are some of our own people who are graz- 
 ing their horses ? " " No, ' ' said the Chevalier ; ' ' but I 
 see very well that they are some of the enemy's troop- 
 ers." Upon which, observing to him that they were 
 mounting, he ordered the horsemen that escorted him to 
 prepare themselves to make a diversion, and he himself 
 set oflf full speed towards Bapaume. 
 
 He was mounted upon a very swift English horse ; 
 
 * A fortified town in Artois, seated in a barren country, without rivers 
 or springs, and having an old palace, which gave rise to the town, with 
 a particular governor of its own, a royal and forest court. In 1641 the 
 French took it from the Spaniards. 
 
100 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 but having entangled himself in a hollow way where the 
 ground was deep and miry, he soon had the troopers at 
 his heels, who, supposing him to be some officer of rank, 
 would not be deceived, but continued to pursue him, 
 without paying any attention to the others. The best 
 mounted of the party began to draw near him ; for the 
 English horses, swift as the wind on even ground, pro- 
 ceeded but very indifferently in bad roads ; the trooper 
 presented his carbine, and cried out to him, at some 
 distance, "Good quarter." The Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont, who perceived that they gained upon him, and 
 that whatever efforts his horse made in such heavy 
 ground, he must be overtaken at last, immediately 
 quitted the road to Bapaume, and took a causeway to the 
 left, which led quite a different way ; as soon as he had 
 gained it, he drew up, as if to hear the proposal of the 
 trooper, which afforded his horse an opportunity of 
 recovering himself; while his enemy, mistaking his 
 intention, and thinking that he only waited to surrender, 
 immediately exerted every effort, that he might take 
 him before the rest of his companions, who were follow- 
 ing, could arrive, and Jjy this means almost killed his 
 horse. 
 
 One minute's reflection made the Chevalier consider 
 what a disagreeable adventure it would be, thus coming 
 from so glorious a victory, and the dangers of a battle so 
 warmly disputed, to be taken by a set of scoundrels who 
 had not been in it, and, instead of being received in tri- 
 umph, and embraced by a great queen for the important 
 news with which he was charged, to see himself stripped 
 by the vanquished. 
 
 During this short meditation, the trooper who followed 
 him was arrived within shot, and still presenting his 
 carbine, offered him good quarter, but the Chevalier de 
 Grammont, to whom this offer, and the manner in which 
 it was made, were equally displeasing, made a sign to 
 him to lower his piece ; and perceiving his horse to be 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNf GRAMMONY. lOl 
 
 in wind, he lowered his hand, rode off like lightning, and 
 left the trooper in such astonishment that he even forgot 
 to fire at him. 
 
 As soon as he arrived at Bapaume he changed horses ; 
 the commander of this place showed him the greatest 
 respect, assuring him that no person had yet passed ; 
 that he would keep the secret, and that he would retain 
 all that followed him, except the couriers of Monsieur 
 de Turenne. 
 
 He now had only to guard against those who would be 
 watching for him about the environs of Peronne, to re- 
 turn as soon as they saw him, and carry his news to 
 court, without being acquainted with any of the partic- 
 ulars. He knew very well that Marshal du Plessis, 
 Marshal de Villeroy, and Gaboury, had boasted of this 
 to the Cardinal before his departure. Wherefore, to 
 elude this snare, he hired two well-mounted horsemen 
 at Bapaume, and as soon as he had got a league from 
 that place, and after 'giving them each two louis d'ors, 
 to secure their fidelity, he ordered them to ride on before, 
 to appear very much terrified, and to tell all those who 
 should ask them any questions, " that all was lost, that 
 the Chevalier de Grammont had stopped at Bapaume, 
 having no great inclination to be the messenger of ill 
 news ; and that as for themselves, they had been pursued 
 by the enemy's troopers, who were spread over the whole 
 country since the defeat. ' ' 
 
 Everything succeeded to his wish : the horsemen were 
 intercepted by Gaboury, whose eagerness had outstripped 
 the two marshals ; but whatever questions were asked 
 them, they acted their parts so well, that Peronne was 
 already in consternation, and rumors of the defeat were 
 whispered among the courtiers, when the Chevalier de 
 Grammont arrived. 
 
 Nothing so enhances the value of good news as when 
 a false alarm of bad has preceded ; yet, though the 
 Chevalier's was accompanied with this advantage, none 
 
102 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 but their Majesties received it with that transport of joy 
 it deserved. 
 
 The queen kept her promise to him in the most fasci- 
 nating manner : she embraced ,him before the whole 
 court ; the king appeared no less delighted ; but the 
 Cardinal, whether with the view of lessening the merit 
 of an action which deserved a handsome reward, or 
 whether it was from a return of that insolence which 
 always accompanied him in prosperity, appeared at first 
 not to pay any attention to what he said, and being after- 
 wards informed that the lines had been forced, that the 
 Spanish army was beaten, and that Arras was relieved : 
 ' ' Is the Prince de Condd taken ? ' ' said he. " No, " re- 
 plied the Chevalier de Grammbnt. " He is dead, then, 
 I suppose?" said the Cardinal. "Not so, neither," 
 answered the Chevalier. "Fine news indeed !" said the 
 Cardinal, with an air of contempt ; and at these words 
 he went into the queen's cabinet with their majesties. 
 And happy it was for the "Chevalier that he did so, for 
 without doubt he would have given him some severe 
 reply, * in resentment for those two fine questions, and 
 the conclusion he had drawn from them. 
 
 . The court was filled with the Cardinal's spies : the 
 Chevalier, as is usual on such an occasion, was sur- 
 rounded by a crowd of courtiers and inquisitive people, 
 and he was very glad to ease himself of some part of the 
 load which laid heavy on his heart, within the hearing 
 of the Cardinal's creatures, and which he would perhaps 
 have told him to his face. "Faith, gentlemen," said 
 he, with a sneer, "there is nothing like being zealous 
 
 *This spirit seems not always to have attended him in his transac- 
 tions with the Cardinal. On the occasion of the entry of the king in 
 1660, "Le Chevalier de Grammont, Rouville, Bellefonds, and some 
 other courtiers, attended in the Cardinal's stiite, a degree of flattery 
 which astonished everybody who knew him. I was informed that the 
 Chevalier wore a very rich orange-colored dress on that occasion." 
 Lettres de Maintenon, tome i., p. 32. 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COtJNi* GRAMMONI*. 103 
 
 and eager in the service of kings and great princes : you 
 have seen what a gracious reception his Majesty has 
 given me ; you are likewise witnesses in what an oblig- 
 ing manner the queen kept her promise with me ; but 
 as for the Cardinal, he has received my news as if he 
 gained no more by it than he did by the death of Peter 
 Mazarin." * 
 
 This was sufficient to terrify all those who were sin- 
 cerely attached to him ; and the best established fortune 
 would have been ruined at some period by a jest much 
 less sf vere : for it was delivered in the presence of wit- 
 nesses, who were only desirous of having an opportunity 
 of representing it in its utmost malignancy, to make a 
 merit of their vigilance with a powerful and absolute 
 minister. Of this the Chevalier de Grammont was 
 thoroughly convinced ; yet whatever detriment he fore- 
 saw might arise from it, he could not help being much 
 pleased with what he had said. 
 
 The spies very faithfully discharged their duty : how- 
 ever, the affair took a very different turn from what they 
 expected. The next day, when the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont was present while their Majesties were at dinner, 
 the Cardinal came in, and coming up to him, everybody 
 making way for him out of respect : "Chevalier," said 
 he, ' ' the news which you have brought is very good, 
 their Majesties are very well satisfied with it ; and to 
 convince you it is more advantageous to me than the 
 death of Peter Mazarin, if you will come and dine with 
 me we will have some play together ; for the queen will 
 give us something to play for, over and above her first 
 promise. ' ' 
 
 In this manner did the Chevalier de Grammont dare 
 to provoke a powerful minister, and this was all the re- 
 
 * Peter Mazarin was father to the Cardinal. He was a native oi 
 Palermo in Sicily, which place he left in order to settle at Rome, where 
 he died in the year 1654. 
 
104 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONf. 
 
 sentment which the least vindictive of all statesmen 
 expressed on the occasion. It was indeed very unusual 
 for so young a man to reverence the authority of minis- 
 ters no farther than as they were themselves respectable 
 by their merit ; for this, his own breast, as well as the 
 whole court, applauded him,|and he enjoyed the satisfac- 
 tion of being the only man who durst preserve the least 
 shadow of liberty in a general state of servitude ; but it 
 was perhaps owing to the Cardinal's passing over this 
 insult with impunity, that he afterwards drew upon him- 
 self some difficulties, by other rash expressions less for- 
 tunate in the event. 
 
 In the meantime the court returned : the Cardinal, 
 who was sensible that he could no longer keep his mas- 
 ter in a state of tutelage, being himself worn out with 
 cares and sickness, and having amassed treasures he 
 knew not what to do with, and being sufficiently loaded 
 with the weight of public odium, he turned all his 
 thoughts towards terminating, in a manner the most 
 advantageous for France, a ministry which had so cru- 
 elly shaken that kingdom. Thus, while he was 
 earnestly laying the foundations of a peace so ardently 
 wished for, pleasure and plenty began to reign at court. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont experienced for a long 
 time a variety of fortune in love and gaming : he was es- 
 teemed by the courtiers, beloved by beauties whom he 
 neglected, and a dangerous favorite of those whom he 
 gidmired; more successful in play than in his amours; but 
 the one indemnifying him for want of success in the 
 other, he was always full of life and spirits; and in all 
 transactions of importance, always a man of honor. 
 
 It is a pity that we must be forced here to interrupt the 
 course of his history, by an interval of some years, as has 
 been already done at the commencement of these me- 
 moirs. In a life where the most minute circumstances 
 are always singular and diverting, we can meet with no 
 chasm which does not affiard regret; but whether he did 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUN¥ GRAMlnONf. l05 
 
 not think them worthy of holding a place among his 
 other adventures, or that he has only preserved a con- 
 fused idea of them, we must pass to the parts of 
 these fragments which are better ascertained, that we 
 may arrive at the subject of his journey to England. 
 
 The peace of the Pyrenees,* the king's marriage, f the 
 return of the Prince de Condd,t and the death of the Car- 
 dinal, gave a new face to the state. The eyes of the 
 whole nation were fixed upon Louis XIV., who, for 
 nobleness of mien, and gracefulness of person, had no 
 equal ; but it was not then known that he was possessed 
 of those superior abilities, which, filling his subjects 
 with admiration, in the end made him so formidable to 
 Europe. Love and ambition, the invisible springs of the 
 intrigues and cabals of all courts, attentively observed 
 his first steps : pleasure promised herself an absolute em- 
 pire over a prince who had been kept in ignorance of the 
 necessary rules of government, and ambition had no 
 hopes of reigning in the court except in the minds of 
 those who were able to dispute the management of affairs; 
 when men were surprised to see the king on a sudden 
 display such brilliant abilities, which prudence, in some 
 measure necessary, had so long obliged him to conceal. 
 
 An application, inimical to the pleasures which gener- 
 erally attract that age, and which unlimited power very 
 seldom refuses, attached him solely to the cares of gov- 
 ernment: all admired this wonderful change, but all did 
 not find their account in it: the great lost their conse- 
 quence before an absolute master, and the courtiers ap- 
 proached with reverential awe the sole object of their 
 respects and the sole master of their fortunes: those who 
 
 * This treaty was concluded 7tli November, 1659. 
 
 t Louis XIV. witli Maria Theresa of Austria. She was bom 20th 
 September, 1638, married ist June, 1660, and entered Paris 26th August 
 following. She died at Versailles, 30th July, 1683, and was buried at 
 St. Denis. 
 
 t nth ApriL — See Ue Retz's Memoirs, vol. iii., p. 119. 
 
106 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 had conducted themselves like petty tyrants in the prov- 
 inces, and on the frontiers, were now no more than gov- 
 ernors : favors, according to the king's pleasure, were 
 sometimes conferred on merit, and sometimes for services 
 done the state; but to importune, or to menace the court, 
 was no longer the method to obtain them. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont regarded his master's at- 
 tention to the affairs of state as a prodigy: he could not 
 conceive how he could submit at his age to the rules he 
 prescribed himself, or that he should give up so many 
 hours of pleasure, to devote them to the tiresome duties 
 and laborious functions of government ; but he blessed 
 the Lord that henceforward no more homage was to be 
 paid, no more court to be made, but to him alone, to 
 whom they were justly due. Disdaining as he did the 
 servile adoration usually paid to a minister, he could 
 never crouch before the power of the two Cardinals who 
 succeeded each other: he neither worshipped the arbitrary 
 power of the one, nor gave his approbation to the artifices 
 of the other ; he had never received anything from Car- 
 dinal Richelieu but an abbey, which, on account of his 
 rank, could not be refused him ; and he never acquired 
 anything from Mazarin but what he won of him at play. 
 
 By many years experience under an able general he 
 had acquired a talent for war; but this during a general 
 peace was of no further service to him. He therefore 
 thought that, in the midst of a court flourishing in 
 beauties and abounding in wealth, he could not employ 
 himself better than in endeavoring to gain the good opin- 
 ion of his master, in making the best use of those advan- 
 tages which nature had given him for play, and in 
 putting in practice new stratagems in love. 
 
 He succeeded very well in the first two of these proj- 
 ects, and as he had from that time laid it down as the 
 rule of his conduct to attach himself solely to the king in 
 all his views of preferment, to have no regard for favor 
 unless when it was supported by merit, to make himself 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 107 
 
 beloved by the courtiers and feared by the minister, to 
 dare to undertake anything in order to do good, and to 
 engage in nothing at the expense of innocence, he soon 
 became one in all the king's parties of pleasure, without 
 gaining the ill will of the courtiers. In play he was suc- 
 cessful, in love unfortunate; or, to speak more properly, 
 his restlessness and jealousy overcame his natural pru- 
 dence, in a situation wherein he had most occasion for 
 it. ' La Motte Agencourt was one of the maids of honor 
 to the queen dowager, and, though no sparkling beauty, 
 she had drawn away lovers from the celebrated Mene- 
 ville. * It was sufficient in those days for the king to 
 cast his eye upon a young lady of the court to inspire her 
 with hopes, and often with tei^der sentiments; but if he 
 spoke to her more than once, the courtiers took it for 
 granted, and those who had either pretensions to, or love 
 for her, respectfully withdrew both the one and the other, 
 and afterwards only paid her respect ; but the Chevalier 
 de Grammont thought fit to act quite otherwise, perhaps 
 to preserve a singularity of character, which upon the 
 present occasion was of no avail. 
 
 He had never before thought of her, but as soon as he 
 found that she wa^ honored with the king's attention, 
 he was of opinion that she was likewise deserving of his. 
 
 * These two ladies at this period seem to have made a distinguished 
 figure in the annals of gallantry. One of their contemporaries mentions 
 them in these terms : " In this case, perhaps, I can give a better account 
 than most people ; as, for instance, they had raised a report, when the 
 queen-mother expelled Mademoiselle de la Motte Agencourt, that it 
 was on his score, when I am assured, upon very good grounds, that it 
 was for entertaining the Marqiiis de Richelieu against her majesty's 
 express command. This lady, who was one of her maids of honor, was 
 a person whom I was particularly acquainted with ; and that so much, ' 
 as I was supposed to have a passion for her : she was counted one of 
 the finest women of the court, and therefore I was not at all displeased 
 to have it thought so ; for except Mademoiselle de Meneville, (who had 
 her admirers,) there was none that could pretend to dispute it." 
 Memoirs of the Comte de Rochefort, 1696, p. 210. See also Anquetil, 
 Louis XVI. sa Cour et le RSgent, tome i., p. 46. 
 
108 
 
 MEMOIRS Olf COtJN'r GRAMMONl*. 
 
 Having attached himself to her, he soon became very 
 troublesome, without convincing her he was much in 
 love. She grew weary of his persecutions, but he 
 would not desist, neither on account of her ill-treat- 
 ment nor of her threats. This conduct of his at first 
 made no great noise, because she was in hopes that he 
 would change his behavior; but finding him rashly per- 
 sist in it, she complained of him : and then it was that 
 he perceived that if love renders all conditions equal, it 
 is not so between rivals. He was banished the court, 
 and not finding any place in France which could console 
 him for what he most regretted — the presence and sight 
 of his prince — after having made some slight reflections 
 upon his disgrace, and bestowed a few imprecations 
 against her who was the cause of it, he at last formed the 
 resolution of visiting England. 
 
 MRS. HYDE. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Curiosity to see a man equally famous for his crimes 
 and his elevation, had once before induced the Chevalier 
 de Grammont to visit England. Reasons of state assume 
 great privileges. Whatever appears advantageous is law- 
 ful, and everything that is necessary is honorable in poU 
 itics. While the King of England sought the protection 
 of Spain in the Low Countries, and that of the States- 
 General in Holland, other powers sent splendid embassies 
 to Cromwell. 
 
 This man, whose ambition had opened him a way to 
 sovereign power by the greatest crimes, maintained him- 
 self in it by accomplishments which seemed to render 
 him worthy of it by their lustre. The nation, of all 
 Europe the least submissive, patiently bore a yoke 
 which did not even leave her the shadow of that liberty 
 of which she is so jealous ; and Cromwell, master of the 
 Commonwealth, under the title of Protector, feared at 
 home, but yet more dreaded abroad, was at his highest 
 pitch of glory when he was seen by the Chevalier de 
 Grammont; but the Chevalier did not see any appearance 
 of a court. One part of the nobility proscribed, the 
 other removed from employments; an affectation of purity 
 of manners, instead of the luxury which the pomp of 
 
 (109) 
 
110 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 courts displays, all taken together, presented nothing 
 but sad and serious objects in the finest city in the world; 
 and therefore the Chevalier acquired nothing by this 
 voyage but the idea of some merit in a profligate man, 
 and the admiration of some concealed beauties he had 
 found means to discover. 
 
 AflFairs wore quite a different appearance at his second 
 voyage. The joy for the restoration of the royal family 
 still appeared in all parts. The nation, fond of change 
 and novelty, tasted the pleasure of a natural government, 
 and seemed to breathe again after a long oppression. In 
 short, the same people who, by a solemn abjuration, had 
 excluded even the posterity of their lawful sovereign, 
 exhausted themselves in festivals and rejoicings for his 
 return. * 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont arrived about two years 
 after the restoration. The reception he met with in this 
 court soon made him forget the other ; and the engage- 
 ments he in the end contracted in England lessened the 
 regret he had in leaving France. 
 
 This was a desirable retreat for an exile of his dispo- 
 sition. Everything flattered his taste, and if the adven- 
 tures he had in this country were not the most consider- 
 
 * Bishop Burnet confirms this account. "With the restoration of the 
 king," says he, "a spirit of extravagant joy spread over the nation, 
 that brought on with it the throwing off the very professions of virtue 
 and piety. All ended in entertainments and drunkenness which over- 
 run the three kingdoms to such a degree, that it very much corrupted 
 all their morals. Under the color of drinking the king's health, there 
 were great disorders, and much riot everywhere : and the pretences of 
 religion, both in those of the hypocritical sort, and of the more honest, 
 but no less pernicious enthusiasts, gave great advantages, as well as they 
 furnished much matter to the profane mockers of true piety. " — History 
 of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 127, 8vo. edit. Voltaire says, King 
 Charles "was received at Dover by twenty thousand of his subjects, 
 who fell upon their knees before him; and I have been told by 
 some old men who were of this number, that hardly any of those 
 who were present could refrain from tears." Age of Louis XIV., 
 chap. 5. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Ill 
 
 able, they were at least the most agreeable of his life. 
 But before we relate them it will not be improper to 
 give some account of the English court as it was at that 
 period. 
 
 The necessity of affairs had exposed Charles II. from 
 his earliest youth to the toils and perils of a bloody 
 war. The fate of the king, his father, had left him for 
 inheritance nothing but his misfortunes and disgraces. 
 They overtook him everywhere ; but it was not until 
 he had struggled with his ill-fortune to the last ex- 
 tremity that he submitted to the decrees of Providence. 
 
 All those who were either great on account of their 
 birth or their loyalty had followed him into exile ; and 
 all the young persons of the greatest distinction having 
 afterwards joined him, composed a court worthy of a 
 better fate. 
 
 Plenty and prosperity, which are thought to tend only 
 to corrupt manners, found nothing to spoil in an indi- 
 gent and wandering court. Necessity, on the contrary, 
 which produces a thousand advantages whether we will 
 or no, served them for education; and nothing was to be 
 seen among them but an emulation in glory, politeness, 
 and virtue. 
 
 With this little court, in such high esteem for merit, 
 the King of England returned two years prior to the 
 period we mention, to ascend a throne which, to all ap- 
 pearances, he was to fill as worthily as the most glorious 
 of his predecessors. The magnificence displayed on this 
 occasion was renewed at his coronation. * 
 
 The death of the Duke of Gloucester,! and of the 
 
 * There is some reason to believe that the Count de Grammont, 
 whose circumstances at his first arrival at the court of Britain were 
 inferior to his rank, endeavored to distinguish himself by his 
 literary acquirements. A scarce little book, in Latin and French, 
 upon the coronation, has been ascribed to him with some probability. 
 
 t This event took place September 3d, i66o. He died of the small- 
 pox. "Though mankind," as Mr. Macpherson observes, "are apt to 
 
112 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Princess Royal,* which followed soon after, had inter- 
 rupted the course of this splendor by a tedious mourning 
 which they quitted at last to prepare for the reception of 
 the Infanta of Portugal, f 
 
 exaggerate the virtues of princes who happen to die in early youth, their 
 praises seem to have done no more than justice to the character of 
 Gloucester. He joined in himself the hest qualities of both his brothers: 
 the understanding and good-nature of Charles to the industry and appli- 
 cation of James. The facility of the first, was in him a judicious mod- 
 eration. The obstinacy of the latter, was in Gloucester a manly firmness 
 of mind. Attached to the religion, and a friend to the constitution of 
 his country, he was most regretted, when his family regarded these the 
 least. The vulgar, who crowd with eminent virtues and great actions 
 the years which fate denies to their favorites, foresaw future misfortunes 
 in his death ; and even the judicious supposed that the measures of 
 Charles might have derived solidity from his judgment and promising 
 parts. The king lamented his death with all the vehemence of an af- 
 fectionate sorrow." The Duke of York was much affected with the loss 
 of a brother, whose high merit he much admired. " He was a prince," 
 says James, "ofthe greatest hopes, undaunted courage, admirable parts, 
 and a clear understanding." He had a particular talent at languages. 
 Besides the Latin, he was master of the French, the Spanish, the Ital- 
 ian, and Low Dutch. He was, in short, possessed of all the natural 
 qualities, as well as acquired accomplishments, necessary to make a 
 great prince. Macpkerson's History of Great Britain, ch.i. Bishop 
 Burnet's character of this young prince is also very favorable. See 
 History of his Own Times, vol. :., p. 238. 
 
 * Mary, eldest daughter of Charles I., born November 4th, 1626, 
 married to the Prince of Orange, 2d May, 1641, who died 27th October, 
 1650. She arrived in England, September 23d, and died of the small- 
 pox, December 24th, 1660, — according to Bishop Burnet, not much la- 
 mented. "She had hved," says the author, "in her widowhood for 
 some years with great reputation, kept a decent court, and supported 
 her brothers very liberally; and hved within bounds. But her mother, 
 who had the art of making herself believe anything she had a mind to, 
 upon a conversation with the queen-mother of France, fancied the 
 King of France might be inclined to marry her. So she wrote to her to 
 come to Paris. In order to that, she made an equipage far above what 
 she could support. So she ran herself into debt, sold all her jewels, 
 and some estates that were in her power as her son's guardian ; and 
 was not only disappointed of that vain expectation, but fell into some 
 misfortunes that lessened the reputation she had formerly lived in." 
 History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 238. She was mother 01 
 William III. 
 
 ■\ "The Infanta of Portugal landed in May (1662) at Portsmouth. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT 113 
 
 It was in the height of the rejoicings they were 
 making for this new queen, in all the splendor of a 
 brilliant court, that the Chevalier de Grammont arrived 
 to contribute to its magnificence and diversions. 
 
 Accustomed as he was to the grandeur of the court 
 of France, he was surprised at the politeness and 
 splendor of the court of England. The king was in- 
 ferior to none,* either in shape or air ; his wit was 
 pleasant ; his disposition easy and affable ; his soul, 
 susceptible of opposite impressions, was compassionate 
 to the unhappy, inflexible to the wicked, and tender 
 even to excess ; he showed great abilities in urgent 
 affairs, but was incapable of application to- any that were 
 not so : his heart was often the dupe, but oftener the 
 slave, of his engagements. 
 
 The character of the Duke of Yorkf was entirely 
 
 The king -went thither, and was rnamed privately by Lord Aubigny, a 
 secular priest, and almoner to the queen, according to the rites of Rome, 
 in the queen's chamber ; none present but the Portuguese ambassador, 
 three more Portuguese of quality, and two or three Portuguese women. 
 What made this necessary was, that the Earl of Sandwich did not many 
 her by proxy, as usual, before she came away. How this happened, 
 the duke knows not, nor did the chancellor know of this private mar- 
 riage. The queen would not be bedded, till pronounced man and wife 
 by Sheldon, bishop of London." — Extract 2, from King James II's 
 Journal. — Macpherson's State Papers, vol. i. In the same collection is 
 a curious letter from the king to Lord Clarendon, giving his opinion of 
 the queen after having seen her. 
 
 * Charles II. was born 29th May, 1630, and died 6th February, 1684-5. 
 His character is very amply detailed and accurately depicted by George 
 Saville, Marquis of Halifax, in a volume published by his grand- 
 daughter, the Countess of Burlington, 8vo., 1750. See also Burnet, 
 Clarendon, and SheflEeld, Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 t James, Duke of York, afterwards King James II. He was born 
 15th October, 1633 ; succeeded his brother 6th February, 1684-5 ; abdi- 
 cated the crown in 1688 ; and died 6th September, 1701. Bishop Bur- 
 net's character of him appears not very far from the truth. ' ' He was, ' ' 
 says this writer, " very brave in his youth ; and so much magnified by 
 Monsieur Turenne, that till his marriage lessened him, he really clouded 
 the king, and passed for the superior genius. He was naturally can- 
 did and sincere, and a firm friend, till affairs and his religion wore out 
 8 
 
114 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 diflFerent : he had the reputation of undaunted cour§ge, 
 an inviolable attachment for his word, great economy 
 in his aflfairs, hauteur, application, arrogance, each in 
 their turn : a scrupulous observer of the rules of duty 
 and the laws of justice ; he was accounted a faithful 
 friend, and an implacable enemy. 
 
 His morality and justice, struggling for some time with 
 prejudice, had at last triumphed, by his acknowledging 
 for his wife Miss Hyde, * maid of honor to the Princess 
 
 all his first principles and inclinations. He had a great desire to un- 
 derstand afiairs : and in order to that he kept a constant journal of all 
 that passed, of -which he showed me a great deal. The Duke of Buck- 
 ingham gave me once a short but severe character of the two brothers. 
 It was the more severe, because it was true : the king (he said) could 
 see things if he would : and the duke would see things if he could. He 
 had no true judgment, and was soon determined by those whom he 
 trusted : but he was obstinate against all other advices. He was bred 
 with high notions of kingly authority, and laid it down for a maxim, 
 that all who opposed the king were rebels in their hearts. He was 
 perpetually in one amour or other, without being very nice in his 
 choice : upon which the king once said, he believed his brother had 
 his mistresses given him by his priests for penance. He was naturally 
 eager and revengeful : and was against the taking off any that set up 
 in an opposition to the measures of the court, and who by that means 
 grew popular in the house of commons. He was for rougher methods. 
 He continued many years dissembling his religion, and seemed zealous 
 for the church of England, but it was chiefly on design to hinder all 
 propositions that tended to unite us among ourselves. He was a 
 frugal prince, and brought his court into method and magnificence, 
 for he had ;^ioo,ooo a-year allowed him. He was made high admiral, 
 and he came to understand all the concerns of the sea very par- 
 ticularly." 
 
 * Miss Anne Hyde, eldest daughter of Lord Chancellor Clarendon. 
 King James mentions this marriage in these terms : " The king at first 
 refused the Duke of York's marriage with Miss Hyde. Many of the 
 duke's friends and servants opposed it. The king at last consented, 
 and the Duke of York privately married her, and soon after owned the 
 marriage. Her want of birth was made up by endowments ; and her 
 carriage afterwards became her acquired dignity." Again. "When 
 his sister, the princess royal, came to Paris to see the queen-mother, 
 the Duke of York fell in love with Mrs. Anne Hyde, one of her maids 
 of honor. Besides her person, she had all the qualities proper to in- 
 flame a heart less apt to take fire than his ; which she managed so well 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 115 
 
 Royal, whom he had secretly married in Holland. Her 
 father, * from that time prime minister of England, sup- 
 ported by this new interest, soon rose to the head of 
 affairs, and had almost ruined them : not that he wanted 
 capacity, but he was too self-sufficient. 
 The Duke of Ormondf possessed the confidence and 
 
 as to bring his passion to such an height, that, between the time he 
 first saw her and the winter before the king's restoration, he resolved 
 to marry none but her ; and promised her to do it : and though, at first, 
 when the duke asked the king his brother for his leave, he refused, 
 and dissuaded him from it, yet at last he opposed it no more ; and the 
 duke married her privately, owned it some time after, and was ever 
 after a true friend to the chancellor for several years." — Macpherson' s 
 State Papers, vol. i. 
 
 * Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, "for his comprehensive knowl- 
 edge of mankind, styled the chancellor of human nature. His char- 
 acter, at this distance of time, may and ought to be impartially con- 
 sidered. Designing or blinded contemporaries heaped the most unjust 
 abuse upon him. The subsequent age, when the partisans of preroga- 
 tive were at least the loudest, if not the most numerous, smit with 
 a work that defied their martyr, have been unbounded in their en- 
 comium." — Catalogue of Noble Authors, vol. ii., p. 18. Lord Orford, 
 who professes to steer a middle course, and separate his great virtues 
 as a man from his faults as an historian, acknowledges that he pos- 
 sessed almost every virtue of a minister which could make his character 
 venerable. He died in exile, in the year 1674. 
 
 t James Butler, Duke of Ormond, born 19th October, 1610, and died 
 2ist July, 1688. Lord Clarendon, in the Continuation of his Life, ob- 
 serves, that "he frankly engaged his person and his fortune in the 
 king's service, from the first hour of the troubles, and pursued it with 
 courage and constancy, that when the king was murdered, and he 
 deserted by the Irish, contrary to the articles of peace which they had 
 made with him, and when he could make no longer defence, he refused 
 all the conditions which Cromwell offered — who would have given him 
 his vast estate if he would have been contented to live quietly in some 
 of his own houses, without further concerning himself in the quarrel — 
 and transported himself, without so much as accepting a pass from his 
 authority, in a little, weak vessel into France, where he found the king, 
 from whom he never parted till he returned with him into England. 
 Having thus merited as much as a subject can do from a prince, he 
 had much more credit and esteem with the king than any other man." 
 — Continuation of the Life of Lord Clarendon, p. 4, fol. edit. Bishop 
 Burnet says of him : ' He was a man every way fitted for a court ; of a 
 graceful appearance, a lively wit, and a cheerful temper ; a man of 
 
116 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 esteem of his master : the greatness of his services, the 
 splendor of his merit and his birth, and the fortune he 
 had abandoned in adhering to the ^ fate of his prince, 
 rendered him worthy of it : nor durst the courtiers even 
 murmur at seeing him grand steward of the household, 
 first lord of the bed-chamber, and lord-lieutenant of Ire- 
 land. He exactly resembled the Marshal de Grammont, 
 in the turn of his wit and the nobleness of his manners, 
 and like him was the honor of his master's court. 
 
 The Duke of Buckingham * and the Earl of St. Al- 
 bans f were the same in England as they appeared in 
 
 great expence ; decent even in his vices, for lie always kept up the form 
 of religion. He had gone through many transactions in Ireland with 
 more fidelity than success. He ha,d made a treaty with the Irish, 
 which was broken by the great body of them, though some few of thefa 
 adhered still to him. But the whole Irish nation did still pretend, 
 that though they had broke the agreement first, yet he, or rather the 
 king, in whose name he had treated with them, was bound to perform 
 all the articles of the treaty. He had miscarried so in the siege of 
 Dublin, that it very much lessened the opinion of his military con- 
 duct. Yet his constant attendance on his master, his easiness to him, 
 and his great suffering for him, raised him to be lord-steward of the 
 household, and lord-lieutenant of Ireland. He was firm to the Prot- 
 estant religion, and so far firm to the laws, that he always gave good 
 advices ; but when bad ones were followed, he was not for com- 
 plaining too much of Xhera.."— History of his Own Times, vol. i., 
 p. 230. 
 
 * "The Duke of Buckingham is again one hundred and forty thou- 
 sand pounds in debt ; and by this prorogation his creditors have time 
 to tear all his lands to pieces." — Andrew Marvell's Works, 4to. edit, 
 vol. i., p. 406. 
 
 t Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans, and Baron of St. Edmond's 
 Bury. He was master of the horse to Queen Henrietta, and one of the 
 privy-council to Charles II. In July, 1660, he was sent ambassador to 
 the court of France, and, in 1671, was made lord-chamberlain of his 
 majesty's household. He died January 2, 1683. Sir John Reresby as- 
 serts that Lord St. Albans was married to Queen Henrietta. "The 
 abbess of an English college in Paris, whither the queen used to retire, 
 would tell me," says Sir John, "that Lord Jermyn, since St. Albans, 
 had the queen greatly in awe of him ; and indeed it was obvious that 
 he had great interest with her concerns ; but that he was married to 
 her, or had children by her, as some have reported, I did not then be- 
 
MEMOIRS OJf COUNT GRAMMONT. 117 
 
 France : the one full of wit and vivacity, dissipated, 
 without splendor, an immense estate upon which he had 
 just entered : the other, a man of no great genius, had 
 raised himself a considerable fortune from nothing, and 
 by losing at play, and keeping a great table, made it 
 appear greater than it was. 
 
 Sir George Berkeley,* afterwards Earl of Falmouth, 
 was the confidant and favorite of the king : he com- 
 manded the Duke of York's regiment of guards, and 
 governed the duke himself He ha|i nothing very re- 
 markable either in his wit or his person ; but his senti- 
 ments were worthy of the fortune which awaited him, 
 when, on the very point of his elevation, he was killed 
 at sea. Never did disinterestedness' so perfectly char- 
 acterise the greatness of the soul : he had no views but 
 what tended to the glory of his master : his credit was 
 never employed but in advising him to reward services, 
 or to confer favors on merit : so polished in conversa- 
 tion, that the greater his power, the greater was his hu- 
 mility ; and so sincere in all his proceedings, that he 
 would never have been taken for a courtier. 
 
 lieve, thougli the thing was certainly so." — Memoirs, p. 4. Madame 
 BaviSre, in her letter, says : "Charles the First's widow made a clan- 
 destine marriage with her chevalier d'honneur. Lord St. Albans, who 
 treated her extremely ill, so that, whilst she had not a fagot to warm 
 herself, he had in his apartment a good fire and a sumptuous table. 
 He never gave the queen a kind word, and when she spoke to him he 
 used to say. Que me veut cettefemme ? " Hamilton hints at his selfish- 
 ness a little lower. 
 
 * This Sir George Berkeley, as he is here improperly called, was 
 Charles Berkley, second son of Sir Berkley, of Bruton, in Glou- 
 cestershire, and was the principal favorite and companion of the Duke 
 of York in all his campaigns. He was created Baron Berkley of Rath- 
 down, and Viscount Fitzharding of Ireland, and Baron Bottetort and 
 Earl of Falmouth in England, 17th March, 1664. He had the address 
 to secure himself in the afifections equally of the king and his brother 
 at the same time. Lord Clarendon, who seems to have conceived, and 
 with reason, a prejudice against him, calls him "a fellow of great 
 wickedness," and says, "he was one in whom few other men (except 
 the king) had ever observed any virtue or quality, which they did not 
 wish their best friends without." 
 
118 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 The Duke of Ormond's sons and his nephews had been 
 in the king's court during his exile, and were far from 
 diminishing its lustre after his return. The Earl of 
 Arran * had a singular address in all kinds of exercises, 
 played well at tennis and on the guitar, and was pretty 
 successful in gallantry : his elder brother, the Earl of 
 Ossory, f was not so lively, but of the most liberal senti- 
 ments, and of great probity. 
 
 The elder of the Hamiltons, their cousin, was the 
 man who of all the court dressed best : he was well 
 made in his person, and possessed those happy talents 
 which lead to fortune, and procure success in love : he 
 was a most assiduous courtier, had the most lively wit, 
 the most polished manners, and the most punctual at- 
 tention to his master imaginable : no person danced 
 better, nor was any one a more general lover : a merit 
 of some account in a court entirely devoted to love and 
 gallantry. It is not at all surprising, that with these 
 
 * Richard Butler, Earl of Arran, fifth son of James Butler, the first 
 Duke of Ormond. He was born 15th July, 1639, and educated with 
 great care, being taught everything suitable to his birth, and the great 
 affection his parents had for him. 
 
 t Thomas, Earl of Ossory, eldest son of the first, and father of the 
 last Duke of Ormond, was born at Kilkenny, 8th July, 1634. At the 
 age of twenty-one years he had so m.uch distinguished himself that Sir 
 Robert Southwell then drew the following character of him : " He is a 
 young man with a very handsome face ; a good head of hair ; well set ; 
 very good natured ; rides the great horse very well ; is a very good 
 tennis-player, fencer and dancer ; understands music, and plays on the 
 guitar and lute ; speaks French elegantly ; reads Italian fluently ; is a 
 good historian ; and so well versed in romances that if a gallery be full 
 of pictures and hangings he will tell the stories of all that are there 
 described. He shuts up his door at eight o'clock in the evening and 
 studies till midnight : he is temperate, courteous, and excellent in all 
 his behavior." His death was occasioned by a fever, 30th July, 1680, 
 to the grief of his family and the public. Lord Ossory married in 1659 
 Emile de Nassau, eldest daughter of Louis de Nassau, Lord Bever- 
 waert, in Holland, the acknowledged but not legitimate son of Maurice, 
 Prince of Orange. A sister of this lady married Lord Arlington : see 
 note to Lord Arlington, infra. 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONT. 119 
 
 qualities he succeeded my Lord Falmouth in the King's 
 favor ; but it is very extraordinary that he should have 
 experienced the same destiny, as if this sort of war had 
 been declared against merit only, and as if this sort of 
 combat was fatal to none but such as had certain hopes 
 of a splendid fortune. This, however, did not happen 
 till some years afterwards. 
 
 The beau Sydney,* less dangerous than he appeared 
 to be, had not sufficient vivacity to support the im- 
 pression which his figure made ; but little Jermyn was 
 on all sides successful in his intrigues. The old Earl 
 of St. Albans, his uncle, had for a long time adopted 
 him, though the youngest of all his nephews. It is 
 well known what a table the good man kept at Paris, 
 while the King, his master, was starving at Brussels, 
 and the Queen Dowager, his mistress, f lived not over 
 well in France. 
 
 * Robert Sydney, third son of the Earl of Leicester, and brother of 
 the famous Algernon Sydney, -who was beheaded. 
 
 t To what a miserable state the queen was reduced may be seen in 
 the following extract from De Retz : " Four or five days before the 
 king removed from Paris, I went to visit the Queen of England, whom 
 I found in her daughter's chamber, who hath been since Duchess of 
 Orleans. At my coming in she said : ' You see I am come to keep 
 Henrietta company. The poor child could not rise to-day for want of 
 a fire.' The truth is, that the cardinal for six months together had not 
 ordered her any money towards her pension; that no tradespeople 
 would trust her for anjrthing ; and that there was not at her lodgings 
 in the Louvre one single billet. You will do me the justice to suppose 
 that the Princess of England did not keep her bed the next day for 
 want of a fagot ; but it was not this which the Princess of Cond6 meant 
 in her letter. What she spoke about was, that some days after my 
 visiting the Queen of England, I remembered the condition I had found 
 her in, and had strongly represented the shame of abandoning her in 
 that manner, which caused the parliament to send 40,000 livres to her 
 majesty. Posterity will hardly believe that a Princess of England, 
 grand-daughter of Henry the Great, had wanted a fagot, in the month 
 of January, to get out of bed in the Louvre, and in the eyes of a French 
 court. We read in histories, with horror, of baseness less monstrous 
 than this ; and the little concern I 'have met with about it in most 
 people's minds has obhged me to make, I believe, a thousand times, 
 
120 MEMOIRS OF COUNY GRAMMONY. 
 
 Jennyn,* supported by his uncle's wealth, found it 
 no difficult matter to make a considerable figure upon 
 his arrival at the court of the Princess of Orange : the 
 poor courtiers of the king her brother could not vie 
 with him in point of equipage and magnificence ; and 
 these two articles often produce as much success in love 
 as real merit : there is no necessity for any other ex- 
 ample than the present ; for though Jermyn was brave, 
 and certainly a gentleman, yet he had neither brilliant: 
 actions nor distinguished rank to set him off ; and as for 
 his figure, there was nothing advantageous in it. He 
 was little : his head was large and his legs small ; his 
 features were not disagreeable, but he was affected in his 
 carriage and behavior. All his wit consisted in ex- 
 pressions learnt by rote, which he occasionally em- 
 ployed either in raillery or in love. This was the 
 
 this reflection : that examples of times past move men beyond compari- 
 son more than those of their own times. We accustom ourselves to 
 what we see ; and I have sometimes told you, that I doubted whether 
 Caligula's horse being made a consul would have surprised us so much 
 as we imagine." — Memoirs, vol. i., p. 261. As for the relative situation 
 of the king and Lord Jermyn (afterwards St. Albans), Lord Clarendon 
 says, that the "Marquis of Ormond was compelled to put himself in 
 prison, with other gentlemen, at a pistole a week for his diet, and to 
 walk the streets a-foot, which was no honorable custom in Paris, whilst 
 the Lord Jermyn kept an excellent table for those who courted him, 
 and had a coach of his own, and all other accommodations incident to 
 the most full fortune : and if the king had the most urgent occasion 
 for the use of but twenty pistoles, as sometimes he had, he could not find 
 credit to borrow it, which he often had experiment of." — History of 
 the Rebellion, vol. iii., p. 2. 
 
 * Henry Jermyn, youngest son of Thomas, elder brother of the Earl 
 of St. Albans. He was created Baron Dover in 1685, and died without 
 children, at Cheveley, in Cambridgeshire, April 6, 1708. His corpse 
 was carried to Bruges, in Flanders, and buried in the monastery of the 
 Carmelites there. St. Evremond, who visited Mr. Jermyn at Cheveley, 
 says, "we went thither, and were very kindly received by a person 
 who, though he has taken his leave of the court, has carried the ci- 
 vility and good taste of it into the country." — St. Evremond' s Works, 
 vol. ii., p. 223. 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNI* GRAMMONT. 121 
 
 whole foundation of the merit of a man so formidable in 
 amours. 
 
 The Princess Royal was the first who was taken with 
 him : * Miss Hyde seemed to be following the steps of 
 her mistress : this immediately brought him into credit, 
 and his reputation was established in England before 
 his arrival. Prepossession in the minds of women is 
 suflBcient to find access to their hearts ; Jermyn found 
 them in dispositions so favorable for him, that he had 
 nothing to do but to speak. 
 
 It was in vain they perceived that a reputation so 
 lightly established was still more weakly sustained : the 
 prejudice remained : the Countess of Castlemaine,t a 
 
 * It was suspected of this princess to have had a similar engagement 
 ■with the Duke of Buckingham as the queen with Jermyn, and that was 
 the cause she would not see the Duke on his second voyage to Hol- 
 land, in the year 1652. 
 
 t This lady, who makes so distinguished a figure in the annals of 
 infamy, was Barbara, daughter and heir of William Villiers, Lord Vis- 
 count Grandison, of the kingdom of Ireland, who died in 1642, in con- 
 sequence of wounds received at the battle of Edgehill. She was mar- 
 ried, just before the restoration, to Roger Palmer, Esq., then a student 
 in the Temple, and heir to a considerable fortune. In the thirteenth 
 year of King Charles II. he was created Earl of Castlemaine in the 
 kingdom of Ireland. She had a daughter, born in February, i65i, 
 while she cohabited with her husband ; but shortly after she became 
 the avowed mistress of the king, who continued his connection with 
 her until about the year 1672, when she was delivered of a daughter, 
 which was supposed to be Mr. Churchill's, afterwards Duke of Marl- 
 borough, and which the king disavowed. Her gallantries were by no 
 means confined to one or two, nor were they unknown to his majesty. 
 In the year 1670 she was created Baroness of Nonsuch, in Surrey, 
 Countess of Southampton, and Duchess of Cleveland, during her 
 natural life, with remainder to Charles and George Fitzroy, her eldest 
 and third sons, and their heirs male. In July, 1705, her husband died, 
 and she soon after married a man of desperate fortune, known by the 
 name of Handsome Fielding, who behaving in a manner unjustifiably 
 severe towards her, she was obliged to have resource to law for her 
 protection. Fortunately it was discovered that Fielding had already a 
 wife living, by which means the duchess was enabled to free herself 
 from his authority. She lived about two years afterwards, and died of 
 a dropsy, on the 9th of October, 1709, in her 69th year. Bishop Burnet 
 
122 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 woman, lively and discerning, followed the delusive 
 shadow ; and though undeceived in a reputation which 
 promised so much, and performed so little, she neverthe- 
 less continued in her infatuation : she even persisted in 
 it, until she was upon the point of embroiling herself 
 with the King ; so great was this first instance of her 
 constancy. 
 
 Such were the heroes of the court. As for the beau- 
 ties, you could not look anywhere without seeing them : 
 those of the greatest reputation were this same Countess 
 of Castlemaine, afterwards Duchess of Cleveland, I^ady 
 Chesterfield, I^ady Shrewsbury,* the Mrs. Roberts, Mrs. 
 Middleton, the Misses Brooks, f and a thousand others, 
 who shone at court with equal lustre ; but it was Miss 
 Hamilton and Miss Stewart who were its chief orna- 
 ments. The new queen gave but little additional bril- 
 liancy to the court, t either in her person or in her 
 
 says : ' ' She -was a -woman of great beauty, but most enormously vicious 
 and ravenous ; foolish, but imperious ; very uneasy to the king, and 
 always carrying on intrigues with other men, while yet she pretended 
 she was jealous of him. His passion for her, and her strange behavior 
 towards him, did so disorder him that often he was not master of him- 
 self, nor capable of minding business, which, in so critical a time, 
 required great application." — History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 
 129. 
 
 * Anna Maria, Countess of Shrewsbury, eldest daughter of Robert 
 Brudenel, Earl of Cardigan, and wife of Francis, Earl of Shrewsbury, 
 who was killed in a duel by George, Duke of Buckingham, March 16, 
 1667. She afterwards remarried with George Rodney Bridges, Esq., 
 second son of Sir Thomas Bridges of Keynsham, in Somersetshire, 
 knight, and died April 20, 1702. By her second husband she had one 
 son, George Rodney Bridges, who died in 1751. This woman is said 
 to have been so abandoned, as to have held, in the habit of a page, 
 her gallant the duke's horse, while he fought and killed her husband ; 
 after which she went to bed with him, stained with her husband's 
 blood. 
 
 t One of these ladies married Sir John Denham, and is mentioned 
 hereafter. 
 
 X Lord Clarendon confirms, in some measure, this account. "There 
 was a numerous family of men and women, that were sent from Por- 
 tugal, the most improper to promote that conformity in the queen that 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 123 
 
 retinue, which was then composed of the Countess de 
 Pan6tra, who came over with her in quality of lady of 
 the bedchamber ; six frights, who called themselves 
 maids of honor, and a duenna, another monster, who 
 took the title of governess to those extraordinary beau- 
 ties. 
 
 Among the men were Francisco de Melo, brother tc 
 the Countess de Pandtra ; one Taurauv^dez, who called 
 himself Don Pedro Francisco Correo de Silva, extremely 
 handsome, but a greater fool than all the Portuguese 
 put together : he was more vain of his names than of his 
 person ; but the Duke of Buckingham, a still greater 
 fool than he, though more addicted to raillery, gave him 
 the additional name of Peter of the Wood. He was so 
 enraged at this, that, after many fruitless complaints 
 and ineffectual menaces, poor Pedro de Silva was obliged 
 to leave England, while the happy duke kept possession 
 
 was necessary for her condition and future happiness that could be 
 chosen ; the women, for the most part, old and ugly, and proud, in- 
 capable of any conversation with persons of quality and a liberal edu- 
 cation : and they desired, and indeed had conspired so far to possess the 
 queen themselves, that she should neither learn the English language 
 nor use their habit, nor depart from the manners and fashions of her 
 own country in any particulars : which resolution," they told, "would 
 be for the dignity of Portugal, and would quickly induce the English 
 ladies to conform to her majesty's practice. And this imagination had 
 made that impression, that the tailor who had been sent into Portugal 
 to make her clothes could never be admitted to see her or receive any 
 employment. Nor when she came to Portsmouth, and found there 
 several ladies of honor and prime quality to attend her in the places 
 to which they were assigned by the king, did she receive any of them 
 till the king himself came ; nor then with any grace, or the liberty 
 that belonged to their places and ofiSces. She could not be persuaded 
 to be dressed out of the wardrobe that the king had sent to her, but 
 would wear the clothes which she had brought, hntil she found that 
 the king was displeased, and would be obeyed ; whereupon she con- 
 formed, against the advice of her women, who continued their opinia- 
 trety, without any one of them receding from their own mode, which 
 exposed them the more to reproach." — Continuation of Clarendon's 
 Life, p. 1 68. In a short time after their arrival in England they were 
 ordered back to Portugal. 
 
124 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 of a Portuguese nymph more hideous than the queen's 
 maids of honor, whom he had taken from him, as well 
 as two of his names. Besides these, there were six 
 chaplains, four bakers, a Jew perfumer, and a certain 
 officer, probably without an office, who called himself 
 her highness's barber. Katherine de Braganza was far 
 from appearing with splendor in the charming court 
 where she came to reign ; however, in the end she was 
 pretty successful.* The Chevalier de Grammont, who 
 had been long known to the royal family, and to most 
 of the gentlemen of the court, had only to get acquainted 
 with the ladies ; and for this he wanted no interpreter : 
 they all spoke French enough to explain themselves, 
 and they all understood it sufficiently to comprehend 
 what he had to say to them. 
 
 The queen's court was always very numerous ; that 
 of the duchess was less so, but more select. This 
 princess t had a majestic air, a pretty good shape, not 
 
 * Lord Clarendon says, ' ' tlie queen liad beauty and ■wit enough to 
 make herself agreeable to him (the king) ; and it is very certain, that, 
 at their first meeting, and for some time after, the king had very good 
 satisfaction in her. . . . Though she was of years enough to have had 
 more experience of the world, and of as much wit as could be wished, 
 and of a humor very agreeable at some seasons, yet she had been bred, 
 according to the mode and discipline of her country, in a monastery, 
 where she had only seen the women who attended her, and conversed 
 with the religious who resided there ; and, without doubt, in her in- 
 clinations, was enough disposed to have been one of that number : and 
 from this restraint she was called out to be a great queen, and to a free 
 conversation in a court that was to be upon the matter new formed, 
 and reduced from the manners of a licentious age to the old rules and 
 limits which had been observed in better times ; to which regular and 
 decent conformity the present disposition of men or women was not 
 enough inclined to submit, nor the king enough disposed to exact." — 
 Continuation of Lord Clarendon's Life, p. 167. After some struggle, 
 she submitted to the king's licentious conduct, and from that time 
 lived upon easy terms with him until his death. On the 30th March, 
 1692, she left Somerset-house, her usual residence, and retired to Lis- 
 bon, where she died, 31st December, 1705, N. S. 
 
 t "The Duchess of York," says Bishop Burnet, "was a very extraor. 
 dinary woman. She had great knowledge, and a lively sense of things. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 125 
 
 much beauty, a great deal of wit, and so just a discern- 
 ment of merit, that, whoever of either sex were possessed 
 of it, were sure to be distinguished by her : an air of 
 grandeur in all her actions made her be considered as if 
 bom to support the rank which placed her so near the 
 throne. The queen dowager returned after the mar- 
 riage of the princess royal, * and it was in her court that 
 the two others met. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont was soon liked by all 
 parties : those who had not known him before were sur- 
 prised to see a Frenchman of his disposition. The 
 
 She soon understood •what belonged to a princess, and took state on 
 her rather too much. She wrote well, and had begun the duke's life, 
 of which she showed me a volume. It was all drawn from his journal ; 
 and he intended to have employed me in carrying it on. She was bred 
 in great strictness in religion, and practised secret confession. Morley 
 told me he was her confessor. She began at twelve years old, and 
 continued under his direction till, upon her father's disgrace, he was 
 put from the court. She was generous and friendly, but was too severe 
 an enemy." — History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 237. She was con- 
 tracted to the duke at Breda, November 24, 1659, and married at 
 Worcester-hoiise, 3d September, 1660, in the night, between eleven 
 and two, by Dr. Joseph Crowther, the duke's chaplain ; the Lord Ossory 
 giving her in marriage. — KenneVs Register, p. 246. She died 31st 
 March, 1671, having previously acknowledged herself to be a Roman 
 Catholic. — See also her character by Bishop Morley. — KenneVs Regis- 
 ter, p. 385, 390. 
 
 * Queen Henrietta Maria arrived at Whitehall, ad November, 1660, 
 after nineteen years absence. She was received with acclamations ; 
 and bonfires were lighted on the occasion, both in London and West- 
 minster. She returned to France with her daughter, the Princess Hen- 
 rietta, 2d January, 1660-61. She arrived again at Greenwich, 28th 
 July, 1662, and continued to keep her court in Kngland until July, 1665, 
 when she embarked foi France, " and took so many things with her," 
 says Lord Clarendon, " that it was thought by many that she did not 
 intend ever to return into England. Whatever her intentions at that 
 time were, she never did see England again, though she lived many 
 years after." — Continuation of Clarendon's Life, p. 263. She died at 
 Coiombe, near Paris, in August, 1669 ; and her son, the Duke of York, 
 pronounces this eulogium on her : " She excelled in all the good qual- 
 ities of a good wife, of a good mother, and a good Christian." — Mac- 
 pherson's Original Papers, vol. i. 
 
126 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 king's restoration having drawn a great number of 
 foreigners from all countries to the court, the French 
 were rather in disgrace ; for, instead of any persons of 
 distinction having appeared among the first who came 
 over, they had only seen some insignificant puppies, each 
 striving to outdo the other in folly and extravagance, 
 despising everything which was not like themselves, and 
 thinking they introduced the bel air, by treating the 
 English as strangers in their own country. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, on the contrary, was 
 familiar with everybody : he gave in to their customs, 
 eat of everything, and easily habituated himself to their 
 manner of living, which he looked upon as neither vul- 
 gar nor barbarous ; and as he showed a natural com- 
 plaisance, instead of the impertinent affectation of the 
 others, all the nation was charmed with a man who 
 agreeably indemnified them for what they had sufiered 
 from the folly of the former. 
 
 He first of all made his court to the king, and was of 
 all his parties of pleasure : he played high, and lost but 
 seldom : he found so little difference in the manners and 
 conversation of those with whom he chiefly associated, 
 that he could scarcely believe he was out of his own 
 country. Everything which could agreeably engage a 
 man of his disposition presented itself to his different 
 humors, as if the pleasures of the court of France had 
 quitted it to accompany him in his exile. 
 
 He was every day engaged for some entertainment ; 
 and those who wished to regale him in their turn were 
 obliged to take their measures in time, and to invite him 
 eight or ten days beforehand. These importunate civil- 
 ities became tiresome in the long run ; but as they 
 seemed indispensable to a man of 'his disposition, and as 
 they were the most genteel people of the court who 
 loaded him with them, he submitted with a good grace ; 
 but always reserved to himself the liberty of supping at 
 home. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. V^7 
 
 His supper hour depended upon play, and was indeed 
 very uncertain ; but his supper was always served up 
 with '■he greatest elegance, by the assistance of one or 
 two servants, who were excellent caterers and good at- 
 tendants, but understood cheating still better. 
 
 The company, at these little entertainments, was not 
 numerous, but select : the first people of the court were 
 commonly of the party ; but the man, who of all others 
 suited him best on these occasions, never failed to 
 attend : that was the celebrated Saint Evremond, who 
 with great exactness, but too great freedom, had written 
 the history of the treaty of the Pyrenees : an exile like 
 himself, though for very different reasons. 
 
 Happily for them both, fortune had, some time before 
 the arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont, brought Saint 
 Evremond * to England, after he had had leisure to re- 
 pent in Holland of the beauties of that famous satire. 
 
 * Charles de St. Denis, Seigneur de Saint Evremond, was born at St. 
 Denis le Guast, in Lower Normandy, on the ist of April, 1613. He 
 was educated at Paris, with a view to the profession of the law ; but he 
 early quitted that pursuit, and went into the army, where he signalized 
 himself on several occasions. At the time of the Pyrenean treaty, he 
 wrote a letter censuring the conduct of Cardinal Mazarin, which occa- 
 sioned his being banished France. He iirst took refuge in Holland ; 
 but, in 1662, he removed into England, where he continued, with a 
 short interval, during the rest of his life. In 1675, the Duchess of 
 Mazarin came to reside in England ; and with her St. Evremond passed 
 much of his time. He preserved his health and cheerfulness to a very 
 great age, and died 9th of September, 1703, aged ninety years, iive 
 months, and twenty days. His biographer, Monsieur Des Maizeaux, 
 describes him thus : " M. de St. Evremond had blue, lively, and spark- 
 ling eyes, a large forehead, thick eyebrows, a handsome mouth, and a 
 sneering physiognomy. Twenty years before his death a wen grew 
 between his eyebrows, which in time increased to a considerable big- 
 ness. He once designed to have it cut off, but as it was no ways 
 troublesome to him, and he little regarded that kind of deformity, Dr. 
 Le Fevre advised him to let it alone, lest such an operation should be 
 attended with dangerous symptoms in a man of his age. He would 
 often make merry with himself on account of his wen, his great 
 leather cap, and gray hair, which he chose" to wear rather than a 
 periwig." 
 
128 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 The Chevalier was from that time his hero : they had 
 each of them attained to all the advantages which a 
 knowledge of the world, and the society of people of 
 fashion, could add to the improvement of good natural 
 talents. Saint Evremond, less engaged in frivolous pur- 
 suits, frequently gave little lectures to the Chevalier, 
 and by making observations upon the past, endeavored 
 to set him right for the present, or to instruct him for 
 the future. ' ' You are now, ' ' said he, ' ' in the most 
 agreeable way of life a man of your temper could wish 
 for : you are the delight of a youthful, sprightly, and 
 gallant court : the king has never a party of pleasure to 
 which you are not admitted. You play from morning to 
 night, or, to speak more properly, from night to morn- 
 ing, without knowing what it is to lose. Far from los- 
 ing the money you brought hither, as you have done in 
 other places, you have doubled it, trebled it, multiplied 
 it almost beyond your wishes, notwithstanding the ex- 
 orbitant expenses you are imperceptibly led into. This, 
 without doubt, is the most desirable situation in the 
 world : stop here, Chevalier, and do not ruin your affairs 
 by returning to your old sins. Avoid love, by pursuing 
 other pleasures : love has never been favorable to you. 
 You are sensible how much gallantry has cost you ; and 
 every person here is not so well acquainted with that 
 matter as yourself. Play boldly : entertain the court 
 with your wit : divert the king by your ingenious and 
 entertaining stories ; but avoid all engagements which 
 can deprive you of this merit, and make you forget you 
 are a stranger and an exile in this delightful country. 
 
 ' ' Fortune may grow weary of befriending you at play. 
 What would have become of you if your last misfortune 
 had happened to you when your money had been at as 
 low an ebb as I have known it ? Attend carefully then 
 to this necessary deity, and renounce the other. You 
 will be missed at the court of France before you grow 
 weary of this ; but be that as it may, lay up a good store 
 
■MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 129 
 
 of money : when a man is rich he consoles himself for 
 his banishment. I know you well, my dear Chevalier : 
 if you take it into your head to seduce a lady, or to sup- 
 plant a lover, your gains at play will by no means suffice 
 for presents and for bribes : no, let play be as productive 
 to you as it can be, you will never gain so much by it as 
 you will lose by love, if you yield to it. 
 
 " You are in possession of a thousand splendid qualifi- 
 cations which distinguish you here : generous, benevo- 
 lent, elegant, and polite ; and for your engaging wit, 
 inimitable. Upon a strict examination, perhaps, all this 
 would not be found literally true ; but these are brilliant 
 mairks ; and since it is granted that you possess them, do 
 not show yourself here in any other light : for, in love, 
 if your manner of paying your addresses can be so de- 
 nominated, you do not in the least resemble the picture 
 I have just now drawn." 
 
 " My little philosophical monitor," said the Chevalier 
 de Grammont, "you talk here as if you were the Cato of 
 Normandy." "Do I say anything untrue?" replied 
 Saint Evremond : " Is it not a fact, that as soon as a 
 woman pleases you, your first care is to find out whether 
 she has any other lover, and your second ^how to plague 
 her ; for the gaining her affection is the last thing in your 
 thoughts. You seldom engage in intrigues, but to dis- 
 turb the happiness of others : a mistress who has no 
 lovers would have no charms for you, and if she has, she 
 would be invaluable. Do not all the places through 
 which you have passed furnish me with a thousand ex- 
 amples? Shall I mention your coup d''essai at Turin? 
 the trick you played at Fontainebleau, where you robbed 
 the Princess Palatine's courier upon the highway? and 
 for what purpose was this fine exploit, but to put you in 
 possession of some proofs of her affection for another, in 
 order to give her uneasiness and confusion by reproaches 
 and menaces, which you had no right to use ? 
 
 " Who but yourself ever took it into his head to place 
 9 
 
130 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 himself in ambush upon the stairs, to disturb a man in 
 an intrigue, and to pull him back by the leg when he 
 was half way up to his mistress's chamber? yet did not 
 you use your friend, the Duke of Buckingham, in this 
 
 manner, when he was stealing at night to , although 
 
 you were not in the least his rival ? How many spies 
 did not you send out after d'Olonne?* How many 
 tricks, frauds, and persecutions, did you not practice for 
 the Countess de Fiesque, f "who perhaps might have been 
 constant to you, if you had not yourself forced her to be 
 otherwise? But, to conclude, for the enumeration of 
 your iniquities would be endless, give me leave to ask 
 you how you came here ? Are we not obliged to that 
 same evil genius of yours, which rashly inspired you to 
 intermeddle even in the gallantries of your prince? 
 Show some discretion then on this point here, I beseech 
 you ; all the beauties of the court are already engaged ; 
 and however docile the English may be with respect to 
 their wives, they can by no means bear the inconstancy 
 
 * Mademoiselle de la Loupe, who is mentioned in De Retz's Memoirs, 
 vol. iii., p. 95. She married the Count d'Olonne, and became famous 
 for her gallantries, of which the Count de Bussi speaks so much in his 
 History of the Amours of the Gauls. Her maiden name was Catherine 
 Henrietta d'Angennes, and she was daughter to Charles d'Angennes, 
 Lord of la Loupe, Baron of Amberville, by Mary du Raynier. There 
 is a long character of her by St. Evremond, in his works, vol. i., p. 17. 
 The same writer, mentioning the concern of some ladies for the death 
 of the Duke of Candale, says: "But his true mistress (the Countess 
 d'Olonne) made herself famous by the excess of her affliction, and had, 
 in my opinion, been happy, if she had kept it on to the last. One 
 amour is creditable to a lady ; and I know not whether it be not more 
 advantageous to their reputation than never to have been in love." — 
 St. Evremond' s Works, vol. ii., p. 24. 
 
 fThis lady seems to have been the wife of Count de Fiesque, who is 
 mentioned by St. Evremond, as "fruitful in military chimeras; who, 
 besides the post of lieutenant-general, which he had at Paris, obtained 
 a particular commission for the beating up of the quarters, and other 
 rash and sudden exploits, which may be resolved upon whilst one is 
 singing the air of La Barre, or dancing a minuet." — St. Evremond' s 
 Works, vol. i., p. 6. The count's name occurs very frequently in De 
 Retz's Memoirs. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GR AMMO NT. 131 
 
 of their mistresses, nor patiently suffer the advantages 
 of a rival : suffer them therefore to remain in tranquillity, 
 and do not gain their ill-will for no purpose. 
 
 ' ' You certainly will meet with no success with such 
 as are unmarried: honorable views, and good landed 
 property, are required here ; and you possess as much of 
 the one as the other. Every countfy has its customs : in 
 Holland, unmarried ladies are of easy access, and of ten- 
 der dispositions ; but as soon as ever they are married, 
 they become like so many Lucretias : in France, the 
 women are great coquettes before marriage, and still 
 more so afterwards ; but here it is a miracle if a young 
 lady yields to any proposal but that of matrimony : and 
 I do not believe you yet so destitute of grace as to think 
 of that." 
 
 Such were Saint Evremond's lectures ; but they were 
 all to no purpose : the Chevalier de Grammont only 
 attended to them for his amusement ; and though he was 
 sensible of the truth they contained, he paid little regard 
 to them : in fact, being weary of the favors of fortune, 
 he had just resolved to pursue those of love. 
 
 Mrs. Middleton was the first whom he attacked : she 
 was one of the handsomest women in town, though then 
 little known at court : so much of the coquette as to dis- 
 courage no one ; and so great was her desire of appear- 
 ing magnificently, that she was ambitious to vie with 
 those of the greatest fortunes, though unable to support 
 the expense. All this suited the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont ; therefore, without trifling away his time in use- 
 less ceremonies, he applied to her porter for admittance, 
 and chose one of her lovers for his confidant. 
 
 This lover, who was not deficient in wit, was at that 
 time a Mr. Jones, afterwards Earl of Ranelagh : * what 
 
 * Richard, the first Earl of Ranelagh, was member of the English 
 house of commons, and vice-treasurer of Ireland, 1674. He held sev- 
 eral offices under King William and Queen Anne, and died 5th January, 
 1711. Bishop Burnet says : "Lord Ranelagh was a young man of great 
 
132 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 engaged him to serve the Chevalier de Grammont was 
 to traverse the designs of a most dangerous rival, and to 
 relieve himself from an expense which began to lie too 
 heavy upon him. In both respects the Chevalier an- 
 swered his purpose. 
 
 Immediately spies were placed, letters and presents 
 flew about : he was received as well as he could wish : 
 he was permitted to ogle : he was even ogled again ; 
 but this was all : he found that the fair one was very 
 willing to accept, but was tardy in making returns. 
 This induced him, without giving up his pretensions to 
 her, to seek his fortune elsewhere. 
 
 Among the queen's maids of honor there was one 
 called Warmestre : * she was a beauty very different 
 from the other. Mrs. Middleton t was well made, fair, 
 and delicati ; but had in her behavior and discourse 
 something precise and affected. The indolent languish- 
 ing airs she gave herself did not please everybody : peo- 
 ple grew weary of those sentiments of delicacy, which 
 
 parts, and ' j great vices : lie had a pleasantness in his conversation 
 that took much with the king ; and had a great dexterity in business." 
 —History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 373. 
 
 * Lord Orford observes, that there is a family of the name of War- 
 minster settled at Worcester, of which five persons are interred in the 
 cathedral. One of them was dean of the church, and his epitaph men- 
 tions his attachment to the royal family. Miss Warminster, however, 
 was probably only a fictitious name. The last Earl of Arran, who lived 
 only a short time after the period these transactions are supposed to 
 have happened, asserted that the maid of honor here spoken of was 
 Miss Mary Kirk, sister of the Countess of Oxford, and who, three years 
 jfter she was driven from court, married Sir Thomas Vernon, under the 
 Mpposed character of a widow. It was not improbable she then 
 assumed the name of Warminster. In the year 1669, the following is 
 the list of the maids of honor to the queen : — i. Mrs. Simona Carew. 
 2. Mrs. Catherine Bainton. 3. Mrs. Henrietta Maria Price. 4. Mrs. 
 Winifred Wells. The lady who had then the office of mother of the 
 maids was Lady Saunderson. — See Chamberlayne's Aug Ha Notitia, 
 1669, p. 301. 
 
 t Mrs. Jane Middleton, accoraing to Mrs. Granger, was a woman of 
 small fortune, but great beauty. Her portrait is in the gallery at 
 Windsor. 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONT. 133 
 
 she endeavored to explain without understanding them 
 herself; and instead of entertaining she became tire- 
 some. In these attempts she gave herself so much 
 trouble, that she made the company uneasy, and her 
 ambition to pass for a wit, only established her the repu- 
 tation of being tiresome, which lasted much longer than 
 her beauty. 
 
 Miss Warmestre was brown : she had no shape at all. 
 and still less air ; but she had a very lively complexion, 
 very sparkling eyes, tempting looks, which spared noth- 
 ing that might engage a lover, and promised everything 
 which could preserve him. In the end, it very plainly 
 appeared that her consent went along with her eyes to 
 the last degree of indiscretion. 
 
 It was between these two goddesses that the inclina- 
 tions of the Chevalier de Grammont stood wavering, and 
 between whom his presents were divided. Perfumed 
 gloves, pocket looking-glasses, elegant boxes, apricot 
 paste, essences, and other small wares of love, arrived 
 every week from Paris, with some new suit for himself : 
 but, with regard to more solid presents, such as ear- 
 rings, diamonds, brilliants, and bright guineas, all this 
 was to be met with of the best sort in London, and the 
 ladies were as well pleased with them as if they had been 
 brought from abroad. 
 
 Miss Stewart's * beauty began at this time to be cele- 
 
 * Frances, Duchess of Richmond, daughter of Walter Stewart, son of 
 Walter, Baron of Blantyre, and wife of Charles Stewart, Duke of Rich- 
 mond and Lennox : a lady of exquisite beauty, if justly represented in 
 a puncheon made by Roetti^re, his majesty's engraver of the mint, in 
 order to strike a medal of her, which exhibits the finest face that per- 
 haps was ever seen. The king was supposed to be desperately in love 
 with her ; and it became common discoiurse, that there was a design on 
 foot to get him divorced from the queen, in order to marry this lady. 
 Lord Clarendon was thoiight to have promoted the match with the 
 Duke of Richmond, thereby to prevent the other design, which he 
 imagined would hurt the king's character, embroil his affairs at present, 
 and entail all the evils of a disputed succession on the nation. Whether 
 
134 MEMoiks oif dotjNf grammonT. 
 
 brated. The Countess of Castlemaine perceived that the 
 king paid attention to her ; but, instead of being alarmed 
 at it, she favored, as far as she was able, this new inclina- 
 tion, whether from an indiscretion common to all those 
 who think themselves superior to the rest of mankind, or 
 whether she designed, by this pastime, to divert the 
 king's attention from the commerce which she held with 
 Jermyn. She was not satisfied with appearing without 
 any degree of uneasiness at a preference which all the 
 court began to remark : she even affected to make Miss 
 Stewart her favorite, and invited her to all the entertain- 
 ments she made for the king ; and, in confidence of her 
 own charms, with the greatest indiscretion she often 
 kept her to sleep. The king, who seldom neglected to 
 visit the countess before she rose, seldom failed likewise 
 to find Miss Stewart in bed with her. The most indif- 
 ferent objects have charms in a new attachment : how- 
 ever, the imprudent countess was not jealous of this 
 rival's appearing with her in such a situation, being 
 confident, that whenever she thought fit, she could tri- 
 umph over all the advantages which these opportunities 
 could afford Miss Stewart ; but she was quite mistaken. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont took notice of this con- 
 duct, without being able to comprehend it ; but, as he 
 
 he actually encouraged the Duke of Richmond's marriage doth not 
 appear; but it is certain that he was so strongly possessed of the 
 king's inclination to a divorce, that, even after his disgrace, he was 
 persuaded the Duke of Buckingham had undertaken to carry that 
 matter through the parliament. It is certain too that the king con- 
 sidered him as the chief promoter of Miss Stewart's marriage, and 
 resented it in the highest degree. The ceremony took place privately, 
 and it was publicly declared in April, 1667. From one of Sir Robert 
 Southwell's dispatches, dated Lisbon, December f^, 1667, it appears 
 that the report of the queen's intended divorce had not then subsided 
 in her native country. — History of the Revolutions of Portugal, 1740, 
 p. 352. The duchess became a widow in 1672, and died October 15, 
 1702. See Burnet's History, Ludlow's Memoirs, and Carte's Life of 
 the Duke of Ormond. A figure in wax of this duchess is still to be 
 seen in Westminster-abbey. 
 
MfiMOIRS Oi' COUNT* GRAMMONT. 135 
 
 was attentive to the inclinations of the king, he began 
 to make his court to him, by enhancing the merit of this 
 new mistress. Her figure was more showy than engag- 
 ing : it was hardly possible for a woman to have less wit, 
 or more beauty : all her features were fine and regular ; 
 but her shape was not good : yet she was slender, straight 
 enough, and taller than the generality of women : she 
 was very graceful, danced well, and spoke French better 
 than her mother tongue : she was well bred, and pos- 
 sessed, in perfection, that air of dress which is so much 
 admired, and which cannot be attained, unless it be 
 taken when young, in France. While her charms were 
 gaining ground in the king's heart, the Countess of 
 Castlemaine amused herself in the gratification of all her 
 caprices. 
 
 Mrs. Hyde* was one of the first of the beauties who 
 were prejudiced with a blind prepossession in favor of 
 Jermyn: she had just married a man whom she loved: by 
 this marriage she became sister-in-law to the duchess, 
 brilliant by her own native lustre, and full of pleasantry 
 and wit. However, she was of opinion, that so long as 
 she was not talked of on account of Jermyn, all her other 
 advantages would avail nothing for her glory: it was, 
 therefore, to receive this finishing stroke, that she re- 
 solved to throw herself into his arms. 
 
 She was of a middle size, had a skin of a dazzling 
 whiteness, fine hands, and a foot surprisingly beautiful, 
 even in England: long custom had given such a languish- 
 ing tenderness to her looks, that she never opened her 
 eyes but like a Chinese; and, when she ogled, one would 
 have thought she was doing something else. 
 
 * Theodosia, daughter of Arthur, Lord Capel, first wife of Henry 
 Hyde, the second Earl of Clarendon. 
 
 [There was another Mrs. Hyde — Mrs. Laurence Hyde (a brother of 
 Henry Hyde) — a woman of exemplary virtue ; her husband was, on 
 the death of Wilmot, created Earl of Rochester and was Lord High 
 Treasurer under James II.] 
 
136 MfiMOlRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Jermyn accepted of her at first; but, being soon puzzled 
 what to do with her, he thought it best to sacrifice her 
 to Lady Castlemaine. The sacrifice was far from being 
 displeasing to her; it was much to her glory to have car- 
 ried oflF Jermyn from so many competitors ; but this was 
 of no consequence in the end. 
 
 Jacob Hall (the famous rope-dancer),* was at that 
 time in vogue in Ivondon; his strength and agility 
 charmed in public, even to a wish to know what he was 
 in private; for he appeared, in his tumbling dress, to be 
 quite of a different make, and to have limbs very differ- 
 ent from the fortunate Jermyn. The tumbler did not 
 deceive Lady Castlemaine' s expectations, if report may 
 be believed; and as was intimated in many a song, much 
 more to the honor of the rope-dancer than of the count- 
 ess; but she despised all these rumors, and only appeared 
 still more handsome. 
 
 While satire thus found employment at her cost, there 
 were continual contests for the favors of another beauty, 
 who was not much more niggardly in that way than her- 
 self; this was the Countess of Shrewsbury. 
 
 The Earl of Arran, who had been one of her first ad- 
 mirers, was not one of the last to desert her; this beauty, 
 less famous fbr her conquests than for the misfortunes 
 
 * "There was a symmetry and elegance, as well as strength and agil-, 
 ity, in the person of Jacob Hall, which was much admired by the 
 ladies, who regarded him as a due composition of Hercules and Adonis. 
 The open-hearted Buchess of Cleveland was said to have been in love 
 with this rope-dancer and Goodman the player at the same time. The 
 former received a salary from her grace." — Granger, vol. ii., part 2, p. 
 461. In reference to the connection between the duchess and the rope- 
 dancer, Mr. Pope introduced the following lines into his ' ' Sober Advice 
 from Horace : " ' 
 
 "What pushed poor E s on th' imperial whore? 
 
 'Twas but to be where Charles had been before. 
 
 The fatal steel unjustly was apply'd, 
 
 When not his lust offended, but his pride : 
 
 Too hard a penance for defeated sin, 
 
 Himself shut out, and Jacob Hall let in." 
 
MEMOIRS OF COtlNf GfeAMMoN*. 137 
 
 she occasioned, placed her greatest merits in being more 
 capricious than any other. As no person could boast of 
 being the only one in her favor, so no person could com- 
 plain of having been ill received. 
 
 Jermyn was displeased that she had made no advances 
 to him, without considering that she had no leisure for 
 it; his pride was offended; but the attempt which he 
 made to take her from the rest of her lovers was very 
 ill-advised. 
 
 Thomas Howard, brother to the Earl of Carlisle,* was 
 one of them; there was not a braver, nor a more genteel 
 man in England ; and though he was of a modest 
 demeanor, and his manners appeared gentle and pacif- 
 ic, no person was more spirited nor more passionate. 
 Lady Shrewsbury, inconsiderately returning the first 
 ogles of the invincible Jermyn, did not at all make her- 
 self more agreeable to Howard ; that, however, she paid 
 little attention to; yet, as she designed to keep fair with 
 him, she consented to accept an entertainment which he 
 had often proposed, and which she durst no longer 
 refuse. A place of amusement, called Spring Garden, f 
 was fixed upon for the scene of this entertainment. 
 
 As soon as the party was settled, Jermyn was pri- 
 vately informed of it. Howard had a company in the 
 regiment of guards, and one of the soldiers of his 
 , company played pretty well on the bagpipes; this soldier 
 was therefore at the entertainment. Jermyn was at the 
 garden as by chance, and puffed up with his former suc- 
 cesses, he trusted to his victorious air for accomplishing 
 
 * Thomas Howard, fourth son of Sir William Howard. He married 
 Mary, Duchess of Richmond, daughter of George Villiers, Duke of 
 Suckingham, and died 1678. — See Madame Dunois' Memoirs of the 
 English Court, 8vo.,i7o8. 
 
 t This place appears, from the description of its situation in the fol- 
 lowing extract, and in some ancient plans, to have been near Charing- 
 Cross, probably where houses are now built, though still retaining the 
 name of gardens. Spring Garden is the scene of intrigue in many of 
 our comedies of this period. 
 
138 MEMOIRS Oi* COtJNT grAMMoNT. 
 
 this last enterprise; he no sooner appeared on the walks, 
 than her ladyship showed herself upon the balcony. 
 
 I know not how she stood affected to her hero ; but 
 Howard did not fancy him much ; this did not prevent 
 his coming up stairs upon the first sign she made to him; 
 and not content with acting the petty tyrant, at an enter- 
 tainment not made for himself, no sooner had he gained 
 the soft looks of the fair one, than he exhausted all his 
 common-place, and all his stock of low irony, in railing 
 at the entertainment, and ridiculing the music. 
 
 Howard possessed but little raillery, and still less pa- 
 tience; three times was the banquet on the point of being 
 stained with blood ; but three times did he suppress his 
 natural impetuosity, in order to satisfy his resentment 
 elsewhere with greater freedom. 
 
 Jermyn, without paying the least attention to his ill- 
 humor, pursued his point, continued talking to Lady 
 Shrewsbury, and did not leave her until the repast was 
 ended. 
 
 He went to bed, proud of this triumph, and was awa- 
 kened next morning by a challenge. He took for his 
 second Giles Rawlings, a man of intrigue and a deep 
 player. Howard took Dillon, who was dexterous and 
 brave, much of a gentleman, and unfortunately, an inti- 
 mate friend to Rawlings. 
 
 In this duel fortune did not side with the votaries of 
 love : poor Rawlings was left stone dead ; and Jermyn, 
 having received three wounds, was carried to his uncle's, 
 with very little signs of life. 
 
 While the report of this event engaged the courtiers 
 according to their several interests, the Chevalier de 
 Grammont was informed by Jones, his friend, his confi- 
 dant, and his rival, that there was another gentleman 
 very attentive to Mrs. Middleton: this was Montagu,* no 
 
 * Ralph Montagu, second son of Edward, Lord Montagu. He took a 
 very decided part in the prosecution of the popish plot, in 1678 ; but on 
 the sacrifice of his friend. Lord Russell, he retired to Montpelier during 
 
MEMOIRS Of COtlNt GRAMMONY. 139 
 
 very dangerous rival on account of his person, but very 
 much to be feared for his assiduity, the acuteness 
 of his wit, and for some other talents which are of 
 importance, when a man is once permitted to display 
 them. 
 
 There needed not half so much to bring into action all 
 the Chevalier's vivacity, in point of competition : vexa- 
 tion awakened in him whatever expedients the desire of 
 revenge, malice, and experience, could suggest, foi 
 troubling the designs of a rival, and tormenting a mis- 
 tress. His first intention was to return her letters, and 
 demand his presents, before he began to tease her ; but, 
 rejecting this project, as too weak a revenge for the in- 
 justice done him, he was upon the point of conspiring 
 the destruction of poor Mrs. Middleton, when, by acci- 
 dent, he met with Miss Hamilton. From this moment 
 ended all his resentment against Mrs. Middleton and 
 all his attachment to Miss Warmestre: no longer was he 
 inconstant: no longer were his wishes fluctuating: this 
 object fixed them all ; and, of all his former habits, 
 none remained, except uneasiness and jealousy. 
 
 Here his first care was to please ; but he very plainly 
 saw, that to succeed, he must act quite in a difierent 
 manner to that which he had been accustomed to. 
 
 The family of the Hamiltons, being very numerous, 
 lived in a large and commodious house, near the court: 
 the Duke of Ormond's family was continually with them; 
 and here persons of the greatest distinction in London 
 constantly met : the Chevalier de Grammont was here 
 received in a manner agreeable to his merit and quality, 
 and was astonished that he had spent so much time in 
 
 the rest of King Charles's reign. He was active at the Revolution, and 
 soon after created Viscount Monthermer, and Earl of Montagu. In 
 1705 he became Marquis of Monthermer, and Duke of Montagu. He 
 married the widow of the Duke of Northumberland at Paris. He died 
 7th March, 1709, in his 73d year. 
 
140 SiBMOIRS OF COUNi* grammonY. 
 
 other places; for, after having made this acquaintance, 
 he was desirous of no other. 
 
 All the world agreed that Miss Hamilton * was worthy 
 of the most ardent and sincere affection : nobody could 
 boast a nobler birth, nothing was more charming than 
 her person. 
 
 * Elizabeth, sister of the author of these Memoirs, and daughter of 
 Sir George Hamilton, fourth son of James, the first Earl of Abercom, 
 by Mary, third daughter of Thomas, Viscount Thurles, eldest son of 
 Walter, eleventh Earl of Ormond, and sister to James, the first Duke 
 of Ormond. She married Philibert, Count of Grammont, the hero of 
 these Memoirs, by whom she had two daughters. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, never satisfied in his 
 amours, was fortunate without being beloved, and be- 
 came jealous without having an attachment. 
 
 Mrs. Middleton, as we have said, was going to experi- 
 ence what methods he could invent to torment, after 
 having experienced his powers of pleasing. 
 
 He went in search of her to the queen's drawing-room, 
 where there was a ball ; there she was ; but fortunately 
 for her. Miss Hamilton was there likewise. It had so 
 happened, that of all the beautiful women at court, this 
 was the lady whom he had least seen, and whom he had 
 heard most commended ; this, therefore, was the first 
 time that he had a close view of her, and he soon found 
 that he had seen nothing at court before this instant; he 
 asked her some questions, to which she replied ; as long 
 as she was dancing, his eyes were fixed upon her ; and 
 from this time he no longer resented Mrs. Middleton's 
 conduct. Miss Hamilton was at the happy age when the 
 charms of the fair sex begin to bloom ; she had the finest 
 shape, the loveliest neck, and most beautiful arms in the 
 world ; she was majestic and graceful in all her movements ; 
 and she was the original after which all the ladies copied 
 
 (141) 
 
142 MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 in their taste and air of dress. Her forehead was open, 
 white, and smooth ; her hair was well set, and fell with 
 ease into that natural order which it is so diflScult to imi- 
 tate. Her complexion was possessed of a certain fresh- 
 ness, not to be equalled by borrowed colors : her eyes 
 were not large, but they were lively, and capable of ex- 
 pressing whatever she pleased : her mouth was full of 
 graces, and her contour uncommonly perfect : nor was 
 her nose, which was small, delicate, and turned up, the 
 least ornament of so lovely a face. In fine, her air, her 
 carriage, and the numberless graces dispersed over her 
 whole person, made the Chevalier de Grammont not 
 doubt but that she was possessed of every other qualifi- 
 cation. Her mind was a proper companion for such a 
 form: she did not endeavor to shine in conversation by 
 those sprightly sallies which only puzzle ; and with still 
 greater care she avoided that affected solemnity in her 
 discourse, which produces stupidity ; but, without any 
 eagerness to talk, she just said what she ought, and no 
 more. She had an admirable discernment in distin- 
 guishing between solid and false wit; and far from mak- 
 ing an ostentatious display of her abilities, she was 
 reserved, though very just in her decisions : her senti- 
 ments were always noble, and even lofty to the highest 
 extent when there was occasion ; nevertheless, she was 
 less prepossessed with her own merit than is usually the 
 case with those who have so much. Formed, as we have 
 described, she could not fail of commanding love; but so 
 far was she from courting it, that she was scrupulously 
 nice with respect to those whose merit might entitle 
 them to form any pretensions to her. 
 
 The more the Chevalier de Grammont was convinced 
 of these truths, the more did he endeavor to please and 
 engage her in his turn ; his entertaining wit, his con- 
 versation, lively, easy, and always distinguished by nov- 
 elty, constantly gained him attention ; but he was much 
 embarrassed to find that presents, which so easily made 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 143 
 
 their way in his former method of courtship, were no 
 longer proper in the mode which, for the future, he was 
 obliged to pursue. 
 
 He had an old valet-de-chambre, called Termes, a bold 
 thief, and a still more impudent liar : he used to send 
 this man from lyondon every week, on the commissions 
 we have before mentioned ; but after the disgrace of Mrs. 
 Middleton, and the adventure of Miss Warmestre, Mr. 
 Termes was only employed in bringing his master's 
 clothes from Paris, and he did not always acquit himself 
 with the greatest fidelity in that employment, as will 
 appear hereafter. 
 
 The queen was a woman of sense, and used all her en- 
 deavors to please the king, by that kind, obliging be- 
 havior which her aflPection made natural to her : she was 
 particularly attentive in promoting every sort of pleasure 
 and amusement, especially such as she could be present 
 at herself. 
 
 She had contrived, for this purpose, a splendid mas- 
 querade, where those, whom she appointed to dance, had 
 to represent different nations ; she allowed some time for 
 preparation, during which we may suppose the tailors, 
 the mantua-makers, and embroiderers, were not idle : nor 
 were the beauties, who were to be there, less anxiously 
 employed ; however. Miss Hamilton found time enough 
 to invent two or three little tricks, in a conjuncture so 
 favorable, for turning into ridicule the vain fools of the 
 court. There were two who were very eminently such : 
 the one was Lady Muskerry, * who had married her 
 
 * Lady Margaret, only child of Ulick, fifth Earl of Glanricade, by 
 Lady Anne Compton, daughter of William, Earl of Northampton. She 
 was three times married : — i. To Charles, Lord Viscount Muskeny, 
 ■who lost his life in the gr^at sea-fight with the Dutch, 3d June, 1665. 
 2. In 1676, to Robert Villiers, called Viscount Purbeck, who died in 
 1685. 3. To Robert Fielding, Esq. She died in August, 1698. Lord 
 Orford, by mistake, calls her Elizabeth, daughter of the Earl of BUl- 
 dare. — See Note on vol. ii., p. 210. 
 
144 MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 cousin-german ; and the other a maid of honor to the 
 Duchess, called Blague.* 
 
 The first, whose husband most assuredly never mar- 
 ried her for beauty, was made like the generality of rich 
 heiresses, to whom just nature seems sparing of her 
 gifts, in proportion as they are loaded with those of for- 
 tune : she had the shape of a woman big with child, 
 without being so ; but had a very good reason for limp- 
 ing ; for, of two legs uncommonly short, one was much 
 shorter than the other. A face suitable to this descrip- 
 tion gave the finishing stroke to this disagreeable figure. 
 
 Miss Blague was another species of ridicule : her shape 
 was neither good nor bad : her countenance bore the ap- 
 pearance of the greatest insipidity, and her complexion 
 was the same all over ; with two little hollow eyes, 
 adorned with white eyelashes, as long as one's finger. 
 With these attractions she placed herself in ambuscade 
 to surprise unwary hearts ; but she might have done so 
 in vain, had it not been for the arrival of the Marquis de 
 Brisacier. Heaven seemed to have made them for each 
 other : he had in his person and manners every requisite 
 to dazzle a creature of her character : he talked eternally, , 
 
 * It appears, by Chamberlayne' s Anglia Notitia, 1669, that this lady, 
 or perhaps her sister, continued one of the duchess's maids of honor at 
 that period. The list, at that time, was as follows : — i. Mrs. Arabella 
 Churchill. 2. Mrs. Dorothy Howard. 3. Mrs. Anne Ogle. 4. Mrs. 
 Mary Blague. The mother of the maids then was Mrs. L,ucy Wise. 
 Miss Blague performed the part of Diana, in Crown's Calisto, acted at 
 court in 1675, and was then styled late maid of honor to the queen. Lord 
 Orford, however, it should be observed, calls her Henrietta Maria, daugh- 
 ter of Colonel Blague. It appears she became the wife of Sir Thomas 
 Yarborough, of Snaith, in Yorkshire. She was also, he says, sister of 
 the wife of Sydney, Lord Godolphin. That nobleman married, accord- 
 ing to Collins, in his peerage, Margaret, at that time maid of honor to 
 Katherine, Queen of England, fourth daughter, and one of the co-heirs 
 of Thomas Blague, Esq., groom of the bedchamber to Charles I. and 
 Charles II., colonel of a regiment of foot, and governor of Wallingford 
 during the civil wars, and governor of Yarmouth and Languard Fort 
 after the Restoration. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOKT. 145 
 
 without saying anything, and in his dress exceeded the 
 most extravagant fashions. Miss Blague believed that 
 all this finery was on her account ; and the Marquis be- 
 lieved that her long eyelashes had never taken aim at 
 any but himself : everybody perceived their inclination 
 for each other ; but they had only conversed by mute 
 interpreters, when Miss Hamilton took it into her head 
 to intermeddle in their aflFairs. 
 
 She was willing to do everything in order, and there- 
 fore began with her cousin Muskerry, on account of her 
 rank. Her two darling foibles were dress and dancing. 
 Magnificence of dress was intolerable with her figure ; 
 and though her dancing was still more insupportable, 
 she never missed a ball at court : and the queen had sc 
 much complaisance for the public, as always to make her 
 dance ; but it was impossible to give her a part in an 
 entertainment so important and splendid as this mas- 
 querade : however, she was dying with impatience for 
 the orders she expected. 
 
 It was in consequence of this impatience, of which 
 Miss Hamilton was informed, that she founded the de- 
 sign of diverting herself at the expense of this silly 
 woman. The queen sent notes to those whom she ap- 
 pointed to be present, and described the manner in 
 which they were to be dressed. Miss Hamilton wrote a 
 note exactly in the same manner to Lady Muskerry, 
 with directions for her to be dressed in the Babylonian 
 fashion. 
 
 She assembled her counsel to advise about the means 
 of sending it : this cabinet was composed of one of her 
 brothers and a sister, who were glad to divert themselves 
 at the expense of those who deserved it. After having 
 consulted some time, they at last resolved upon a mode 
 of conveying it into her own hands. Lord Muskerry 
 was just going out, when she received it : he was a man 
 of honor, rather serious, very severe, and a mortal enemy 
 to ridicule. His wife's deformity was not so intolerable 
 10 
 
146 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 to him, as the ridiculous figure she made upon all occa- 
 sions. He thought that he was safe in the present case, 
 not believing that the queen would spoil her masquerade 
 by naming t,ady Muskerry as one of the dancers ; never- 
 theless, as he was acquainted with the passion his wife 
 had to expose herself in public, by her dress and danc- 
 ing, he had just been advising her very seriously to con- 
 tent herself with being a spectator of this entertainment, 
 even though the queen should have the cruelty to engage 
 her in it : he then took the liberty to show her what 
 little similarity there was between her figure and that 
 of persons to whom dancing and magnificence in dress 
 were allowable. His sermon concluded at last, by an 
 express prohibition to solicit a place at this entertain- 
 ment, which they had no thoughts of giving her ; but 
 far from taking his advice in good part, she imagined 
 that he was the only person who had prevented the 
 queen from doing her an honor she so ardently desired ; 
 and as soon as he was gone out, her design was to go and 
 throw herself at her Majesty's feet to demand justice. 
 She was in this very disposition when she received the 
 billet : three times did she kiss it ; and without regard- 
 ing her husband' s injunctions, she immediately got into 
 her coach in order to get information of the merchants 
 who traded to the Levant, in what manner the ladies of 
 quality dressed in Babylon. 
 
 The plot laid for Miss Blague was of a different kind : 
 she had such faith in her charms, and was so confident 
 of their effects, that she could believe anything. Brisa- 
 cier, whom she looked upon as desperately smitten, had 
 wit, which he set off with common-place talk, and with 
 little sonnets : he sung out of tune most methodically, 
 and was continually exerting one or other of these happy 
 talents': the Duke of Buckingham did all he could to 
 spoil him, by the praises he bestowed both upon his 
 voice and upon his wit. 
 
 Miss Blague, who hardly understood a word of French, 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 147 
 
 regulated herself upon the Duke's authority, in admir- 
 ing the one and the other. It was remarked, that all 
 the words which he sung to her were in praise of fair 
 women, and that always taking this to herself, she cast 
 down her eyes in acknowledgment and consciousness. 
 It was upon these observations they resolved to make a 
 jest of her the first opportunity. 
 
 Whilst these little projects were forming, the king, 
 who always wished to oblige the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont, asked him if he would make one at the masquer- 
 ade, on condition of being Miss Hamilton's partner? 
 He did not pretend to dance sufficiently well for an 
 occasion like the present ; yet he was far from refusing 
 the offer : ' ' Sire, ' ' said he, ' ' of all the favors you have 
 been pleased to show me, since my arrival, I feel this 
 more sensibly than any other ; and to convince you of 
 my gratitude, I promise you all the good offices in my 
 power with Miss Stewart. ' ' He said this because they 
 had just given her an apartment separate from the rest 
 of the maids of honor, which made the courtiers begin 
 to pay respect to her. The king was very well pleased 
 at this pleasantry, and having thanked him for so neces- 
 sary an offer: "Monsieur le Chevalier," said he, "in 
 what style do you intend to dress yourself for the ball? 
 I leave you the choice of all countries." " If so," said 
 the Chevalier, ' ' I will dress after the French manner, in 
 order to disguise myself; for they already do me the 
 honor to take me for an Englishman in your city of 
 I/ondon. Had it not been for this, I should have wished 
 to have appeared as a Roman ; but for fear of embroiling 
 myself with Prince Rupert,* who so warmly espouses 
 
 * Grandson of James tlie First, whose actions during tlie civil wars 
 are well known. He was bom igth December, 1619, and died at his 
 house in Spring Gardens, November 22, 1682. Lord Clarendon says 
 of him, that " he was rough and passionate, and loved not debate : 
 liked what was proposed, as he liked the persons who proposed it ; and 
 ■ffSS so great an enemy to Digby and Colepepper, who were onljf pre*- 
 
148 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 the interests of Alexander against I^ord Thanet,* who 
 declares himself for Csesar, I dare no longer think of 
 assuming the hero : nevertheless, though I may dance 
 awkwardly, yet, by observing the tune, and with a little 
 alertness, I hope to come off pretty well ; besides. Miss 
 Hamilton will take care that too much attention shall 
 not be paid to me. As for my dress, I shall send Termes 
 off to-morrow morning ; and if I do not show you at 
 his return the most splendid habit you have ever seen, 
 look upon mine as the most disgraced nation in your 
 masquerade." 
 
 Termes set out with ample instructions on the subject 
 of his journey : and his master, redoubling his impa- 
 tience on an occasion like the present, before the courier 
 could be landed, began to count the minutes in expecta- 
 tion of his return : thus was he employed until the very 
 eve of the ball ; and that was the day that Miss Hamil- 
 ton and her little society had fixed for the execution of 
 their project. 
 
 Martial gloves were then very much in fashion : she 
 had by chance several pairs of them : she sent one to 
 Miss Blague, accompanied with four yards of yellow 
 riband, the palest she could find, to which she added 
 this note : 
 
 ' ' You were the other day more charming than all the 
 fair women in the world : you looked yesterday still 
 more fair than you did the day before : if you go on, 
 what will become of my heart ? But it is a long time 
 since that has been a prey to your pretty little young 
 
 ent in the debates of tlie war with the officers, that he crossed all they 
 proposed." — Histoiy of the Rebellion, vol. ii., 554. He is supposed to 
 have invented the art of mezzotinto. 
 
 * This nobleman, I believe, was John Tufton, second Earl of Thanet, 
 who died 6th May, 1664. Lord Orford, however, imagines him to have 
 been Nicholas Tufton, the third Earl of Thanet, his eldest son, who 
 died 24th November, 1679. Both these noblemen suifered much for 
 their loyalty. 
 
MfiMOlRS Olf COUNT cjrammonT. 149 
 
 wild boar' s eyes.* Shall you be at the masquerade to- 
 morrow ? But can there be any charms at an entertain- 
 ment at which you are not present ? It does not signify : 
 I shall know you in whatever disguise you may be : but 
 I shall be better informed of my fate by the present I 
 send you : you will wear knots of this riband in your 
 hair ; and these gloves will kiss the most beautiful 
 hands in the universe. ' ' 
 
 This billet, with the present, was delivered to Miss 
 Blague, with the same success as the other had been 
 conveyed to Lady Muskerry. Miss Hamilton had just 
 received an account of it, when the latter came to pay 
 her a visit : something seemed to possess her thoughts 
 very much ; when, having stayed some time, her cousin 
 desired her to walk into her cabinet. As soon as they 
 were there : " I desire your secrecy for what I am going 
 to tell you," said Lady Muskerry. " Do not you won- 
 der what strange creatures men are ? Do not trust to 
 them, my dear cousin : my Lord Muskerry, who, before 
 our marriage, could have passed whole days and nights 
 in seeing me dance, thinks proper now to forbid me 
 dancing, and says it does not become me. This is not 
 all : he has so often rung in my ears the subject of 
 this masquerade, that I am obliged to hide from him 
 the honor the queen has done me in inviting me to it. 
 However, I am surprised I am not informed who is to 
 be my partner : but if you knew what a plague it is 
 to find out, in this cursed town, in what manner the 
 people of Babylon dress, you would pity me for what 
 I have suffered since the time I have been appointed : 
 besides, the cost which it puts me to is beyond all 
 imagination." 
 
 Here it was that Miss Hamilton's inclination to laugh, 
 
 * Marcassin is French for a wild boar : the eyes of this creature being 
 remarkably small and lively, from thence the French say, "Des yeux 
 marcassins," to signify little, though roguish eyes; or, as we say, pigs' 
 eyes. 
 
150 MEMOIRS OF COUNT ORAMMONI*. 
 
 which had increased in proportion as she endeavored to 
 suppress it, at length overcame her, and broke out in 
 an immoderate fit : L,ady Muskerry took it in good hu- 
 mor, not doubting but it was the fantastical conduct of 
 her husband that she was laughing at. Miss Hamilton 
 told her that all husbands were much the same, and 
 that one ought not to be concerned at their whims ; that 
 she did not know who was to be her partner at the mas- 
 querade ; but that, as she was named, the gentleman 
 named with her would certainly not fail to attend her ; 
 although she could not comprehend why he had not yet 
 declared himself, unless he likewise had some fantasti- 
 cal spouse, who had forbid him to dance. 
 
 This conversation being finished, Lady Muskerry went 
 away in great haste, to endeavor to learn some news of 
 her partner. Those who were accomplices in the plot 
 were laughing very heartily at this visit, when Lord 
 Muskerry paid them one in his turn, and taking Miss 
 Hamilton aside: "Do you know," said he, "whether 
 there is to be any ball in the city to-morrow ? " " No, ' ' 
 said she; "but why do you ask?" "Because," said 
 he, "I am informed that my wife is making great prep- 
 arations of dress. I know very well she is not to be 
 at the masquerade : that I have taken care of ; but as the 
 devil is in her for dancing, I am very much afraid that 
 she will be affording some fresh subject for ridicule, not- 
 withstanding all my precautions : however, if it was 
 amongst the citizens at some private party, I should not 
 much mind it." 
 
 They satisfied him as well as they could, and having 
 dismissed him, under pretence of a thousand things they 
 had to prepare for the next day. Miss Hamilton thought 
 herself at liberty for that morning, when in came Miss 
 Price, one of the maids of honor to the Duchess.* This 
 
 * Our author's memory here fails him : Miss Price was maid of honor 
 to the queen. Mr. Granger says, "there was a Lady Price, a fine 
 
MEMOIRS OF COtJN* GRAMMONI*. l61 
 
 was just what she was wishing for : This lady and Miss 
 Blague had been at variance some time, on account of 
 Duncan,* whom Miss Price had drawn away from the 
 other ; and hatred still subsisted between these two 
 divinities. 
 
 Though the maids of honor were not nominated for 
 the masquerade, yet they were to assist at it ; and, con- 
 sequently, were to neglect nothing to set themselves off 
 to advantage. Miss Hamilton had still another pair ot 
 gloves of the same sort as those she had sent to Miss 
 Blague, which she made a present of to her rival, with 
 a few knots of the same riband, which appeared to 
 have been made on purpose for her, brown as she was. 
 Miss Price returned her a thousand thanks, and promised 
 to do herself the honor of wearing them at the ball. 
 "You will oblige me if you do," said Miss Hamilton, 
 "but if you mention that such a trifle as this comes from 
 me, I shall never forgive you ; but, ' ' continued she, ' ' do 
 not go and rob poor Miss Blague of the Marquis Brisacier, 
 as you already have of Duncan : I know very well that 
 it is wholly in your power : you have wit : you speak 
 French : and were he once to converse with you ever so 
 little the other could have no pretensions to him. ' ' This * 
 was enough : Miss Blague was only ridiculous and co- 
 quettish : Miss Price was ridiculous, coquettish, and- 
 something else besides. 
 
 The day being come, the court, more splendid than 
 ever, exhibited all its magnificence at this masquerade. 
 The company were all met except the Chevalier de 
 
 woman, who was daughter of Sir Edmond Warcup, concerning whom 
 see Wood's Fasti Oxon, ii,, 184. Her father had the vanity to think 
 that Charles II. would marry her, though he had then a queen. There 
 were letters of his wherein he mentioned, that "his daughter was one 
 night and t'other with the king, and very graciously received by him." 
 — History of England, vol. iv., p. 338. 
 
 * I believe this name should be written Dongan. Lord Orford says, 
 of this house were the ancient Earls of Limerick. 
 
152 MEMOIRS OP dOtJNT GRAMMONI*. 
 
 Grammont: everybody was astonished that he should be 
 one of the last at such a time, as his readiness was so 
 remarkable on every occasion ; but they were still more 
 surprised to see him at length appear in an ordinary 
 court dress, which he had worn before. The thing was 
 preposterous on such an occasion, and very extraordinary 
 with respect to him: in vain had he the finest point-lace, 
 with the largest and best powdered peruke imaginable : 
 his dress, magnificent enough for any other purpose, was 
 not at all proper for this entertainment. 
 
 The king immediately took notice of it: "Chevalier," 
 said he, " Termes is not arrived then? " " Pardon me, 
 sire," said he, "God be thanked!" "Why God be 
 thanked?" said the king ; "has anything happened to 
 him on the road ? " " Sire, ' ' said the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont, "this is the history of my dress, and of Termes 
 my messenger. ' ' At these words the ball, ready to begin, 
 was suspended: the dancers making a circle around the 
 Chevalier de Grammont, he continued his story in the 
 following manner. 
 
 " It is now two days since this fellow ought to have 
 been here, according to my orders and his protesta- 
 tions ; you may judge of my impatience all this day, 
 when I found he did not come: at last, after I had heart- 
 ily cursed him, about an hour ago he arrived, splashed 
 all over from head to foot, booted up to the waist, and 
 looking is if he had been excommunicated : ' Very well, 
 Mr. Scoundrel,' said I, 'this is just like you, you must 
 be waited for to the very last minute, and it is a miracle 
 that you are arrived at all. ' ' Yes, faith, ' said he, ' it is 
 a miracle. You are always grumbling : I had the finest 
 suit in the world made for you, which the Duke de 
 Guise himself was at the trouble of ordering.' ' Give it 
 me then, scoundrel,' said I. ' Sir,' said he, ' if I did not 
 employ a dozen embroiderers upon it, who did nothing 
 but work day and night, I am a rascal : I never left them 
 one moment. ' 'And where is it, traitor ? ' said I : 'do 
 
MEMOIRS OE COUNT GRAMMONf. 153 
 
 not stand here prating, while I should be dressing.' ' I 
 had,' continued he, 'packed it up, made it tight, and 
 folded it in such a manner, that all the rain in the world 
 could never have been able to reach it ; and I rid post, 
 day and night, knowing your impatience, and that you 
 were not to be trifled with. ' ' But where is it ? ' said I. 
 ' Lost, sir, ' said he, clasping his hands. ' How ! lost, ' 
 said I, in surprise. ' Yes, lost, perished, swallowed up: 
 what can I say more ? ' ' What ! was the packet boat 
 cast away then ? ' said I. ' Oh ! indeed, sir, a great deal 
 worse, as you shall see,' answered he: ' I was within half 
 a league of Calais yesterday morning, and I was resolved 
 to go by the seaside, to make greater haste ; but, indeed, 
 they say very true, that nothing is like the highway; for 
 I got into a quicksand, where I sunk up to the chin. ' 
 'A quicksand,' said I, 'near Calais?' 'Yes, sir,' said 
 he, ' and such a quicksand that, the devil take me, if they 
 saw anything but the top of my head when they pulled 
 me out: as for my horse, fifteen men could scarce get him 
 out; but the portmanteau, where I had unfortunately put 
 your clothes, could never be found : it must be at least a 
 league under ground. ' 
 
 ' ' This, sire, ' ' continued the Chevalier de Grammont, 
 "is the adventure, and the relation which this honest 
 gentleman has given me of it. I should certainly have 
 killed him but I was afraid of making Miss Hamilton 
 wait, and I was desirous of giving your Majesty imme- 
 diate advice of the quicksand, that your couriers may 
 take care to avoid it." 
 
 The king was ready to split his sides with laughing, 
 when the Chevalier de Grammont, resuming the discourse, 
 "Apropos, sire," said he, "I had forgot to tell you, 
 that, to increase my ill-humor, I was stopped, as I was 
 getting out of my chair, by the devil of a phantom in 
 masquerade, who would by all means persuade me that 
 the queen had commanded me to dance with her; and as 
 I excused myself with the least rudeness possible, she 
 
154 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 charged me to find out who was to be her partner, and 
 desired me to send him to her immediately: so that your 
 Majesty will do well to give orders about it ; for she has 
 placed herself in ambush in a coach, to seize upon all 
 those who pass through Whitehall. However, I must 
 tell you, that it is worth while to see her dress ; for 
 she must have at least sixty ells of gauze and silver tis- 
 sue about her, not to mention a sort of a pyramid 
 upon her head, adorned with a hundred thousand 
 baubles." 
 
 This last account surprised all the assembly, except 
 those who had a share in the plot. The queen assured 
 them that all she had appointed for the ball were pres- 
 ent ; and the king, having paused some minutes : "I 
 bet," said he, " that it is the Duchess of Newcastle." * 
 ' 'And I, ' ' said L,ord Muskerry, coming up to Miss Ham- 
 ilton, "will bet it is another fool ; for I am very much 
 mistaken if it is not my wife." 
 
 The king was for sending to know who it was, and to 
 bring her in: Ivord Muskerry offered himself for that ser- 
 vice, for the reason already mentioned ; and it was very 
 well he did so. Miss Hamilton was not sorry for this, 
 knowing very well that he was not mistaken in his con- 
 jecture; the jest would have gone much farther than she 
 intended, if the Princess of Babylon had appeared in all 
 her glory. 
 
 * This fantastic lady, as Lord Orford properly calls lier, was the 
 youngest daughter of Sir Charles Lucas, and had been one of the maids 
 of honor to Charles the First's queen, whom she attended when forced 
 to leave England. At Paris she married the Duke of Newcastle, 
 and continued in exile with him until the restoration. After her 
 return to England, she lived entirely devoted to letters, and pub- 
 lished many volumes of plays, poems, letters, etc. She died in 1673, 
 and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Lord Orford says, there is a 
 whole length of this duchess at Welbeck, in a theatrical dress, which, 
 tradition says, she generally wore. She had always a maid of honor 
 in waiting during the night, who was often called up to register the 
 duchess's conceptions. These were all of a literary kind ; for her grace 
 left no children. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 155 
 
 ,The ball was not very well executed, if one may be 
 allowed the expression, so long as they danced only slow 
 dances; and yet there were as good dancers, and as beau- 
 tiful women in this assembly, as were to be fouiid in the 
 whole world : but as their number was not great, they 
 left the French, and went to country dances. When 
 they had danced some time, the king thought fit to 
 introduce his auxiliaries, to give the others a little 
 respite ; the queen's and the duchess's maids of honor 
 were therefore called in to dance with the gentlemen. 
 
 Then it was that they were at leisure to take notice of 
 Miss Blague, and they found that the billet they had 
 conveyed to her on the part of Brisacier had its eflFect : 
 she was more yellow than saffron : her hair was stuffed 
 with the citron-colored riband, which she had put there 
 out of complaisance; and, to inform Brisacier of his fate, 
 she raised often to her head her victorious hands, adorned 
 with the gloves we have before mentioned : but, if they 
 were surprised to see her in a head-dress that made her 
 look more wan than ever, she was very differently sur- 
 prised to see Miss Price partake with her in every par- 
 ticular of Brisacier' s present: her surprise soon turned to 
 jealousy ; for her rival had not failed to join in conversa- 
 tion with him, on account of what had been insinuated 
 to her the evening before ; nor did Brisacier fail to return 
 her first advances, without paying the least attention to 
 the fair Blague, nor to the signs which she was torment- 
 ing herself to make him, to inform him of his happy 
 destiny. 
 
 Miss Price was short and thick, and consequently no 
 dancer. The Duke of Buckingham, who brought Brisa- 
 cier forward as often as he could, came to desire him, on 
 the part of the king, to dance with Miss Blague, without 
 knowing what was then passing in this nymph's heart : 
 Brisacier excused himself, on account of the contempt he 
 had for country dances : Miss Blague thought that it was 
 herself that he despised ; and seeing that he was engaged 
 
156 MEMOIRS OF CX)UNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 in conversation with her mortal enemy, she began to 
 dance, without knowing what she was doing. Though 
 her indignation and jealousy were sufficiently remarkable 
 to divert the court, none but Miss Hamilton and her ac- 
 complices understood the joke perfectly : their pleasure 
 was quite complete ; for Lord Muskerry returned, still 
 more confounded at the vision, of which the Chevalier de 
 Grammont had given the description. He acquainted 
 Miss Hamilton that it was Lady Muskerry herself^ a 
 thousand times more ridiculous than she had ever been 
 before, and that he had had an immense trouble to get 
 her home, and place a sentry at her chamber door. 
 
 The reader may think, perhaps, that we have dwelt 
 too long on these trifling incidents ; perhaps he may be 
 right. We will therefore pass to others. 
 
 Everything favored the Chevalier de Grammont in the 
 new passion which he entertained: he was not, however, 
 without rivals; but, what is a great deal more extraordi- 
 nary, he was without uneasiness: he was acquainted with 
 their understandings, and no stranger to Miss Hamilton's 
 way of thinking. 
 
 Among her lovers, the most considerable, though the 
 least professedly so, was the Duke of York: it was in vain 
 for him to conceal it, the court was too well acquainted 
 with his character to doubt of his inclinations for her. 
 He did not think it proper to declare such sentiments as 
 were not fit for Miss Hamilton to hear ; but he talked to 
 her as much as he could, and ogled her with great assi- 
 duity. As hunting was his favorite diversion, that sport 
 employed him one part of the day, and he came home 
 generally much fatigued ; but Miss Hamilton's presence 
 revived him, when he found her either with the queen 
 or the duchess. There it was that, not daring to tell her 
 of what lay heavy on his hearty he entertained her with 
 what he had in his head ; telling her miracles of the cun- 
 ning of foxes and the mettle of horses; giving her 
 accounts of broken legs and arms, dislocated shoulders. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 157 
 
 and other curious and entertaining adventures; after 
 which, his eyes told her the rest, till such time as sleep 
 interrupted their conversation ; for these tender interpre- 
 ters could not help sometimes composing themselves in 
 the midst of their ogling. 
 
 The duchess was not at all alarmed at a passion which 
 her rival was far from thinking sincere, and with which 
 she used to divert herself, as far as respect would admit 
 her; on the contrary, as her highness had an aflfection and 
 esteem for Miss Hamilton, she never treated her more 
 graciously than on the present occasion. 
 
 The two Russells, uncle* and nephew, f were two 
 other of the Chevalier de Grammont's rivals : the uncle 
 was full seventy, and had distinguished himself by his 
 courage and fidelity in the civil wars. His passions and 
 intentions, with regard to Miss Hamilton, appeared both 
 at once ; but his magnificence only appeared by halves 
 in those gallantries which love inspires. It was not long 
 since the fashion of high crowned hats had been left off, 
 in order to fall into the other extreme. Old Russell, 
 amazed at so terrible a change, resolved to keep a me- 
 dium, which made him remarkable : he was still more 
 so, by his constancy for cut doublets, which he sup- 
 ported a long time after they had been universally sup- 
 pressed ; but, what was more surprising than all, was a 
 certain mixture of avarice and liberality, constantly at 
 war with each other, ever since he had entered the list 
 with love. 
 
 His nephew was only of a younger brother's family, 
 but was considered as his uncle's heir ; and though he 
 
 * Russell, third son of Francis, the fourth Earl of Bedford, and 
 colonel of the first regiment of foot guards. He died unmarried, in 
 November, 1681. 
 
 t William, eldest son of Edward Russell, younger brother of the 
 above John Russell. He was standard-bearer to Charles II., and 
 died unmarried, 1674. He was elder brother to Russell, Earl of 
 Orford, 
 
158 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 was under the necessity of attending to his uncle for an 
 establishment, and still more so of humoring him, in 
 order to get his estate, he could not avoid his fate. Mrs. 
 Middleton showed him a sufficient degree of preference; 
 but her favors could not secure him from the charms of 
 Miss Hamilton: his person would have had nothing dis- 
 agreeable in it if he had but left it to nature ; but he was 
 formal in all his actions, and silent even to stupidity ; 
 and yet rather more tiresome when he did speak. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, very much at his ease 
 in all these competitions, engaged himself more and 
 more in his passion, without forming other designs, or 
 conceiving other hopes, than to render himself agree- 
 able. Though his passion was openly declared, no per- 
 son at court regarded it otherwise than as a habit of 
 gallantry, which goes no farther than to do justice to 
 merit. 
 
 His monitor. Saint Evremond, was quite of a different 
 opinion ; and finding, that, besides an immense increase 
 of magnificence and assiduity, he regretted those hours 
 which he bestowed on play ; that he no longer sought 
 after those long and agreeable conversations they used 
 to have together ; and that this new attachment every- 
 where robbed him of himself : 
 
 "Monsieur le Chevalier," said he, "methinks that 
 for some time you have left the town beauties and their 
 lovers in perfect repose : Mrs. Middleton makes fresh 
 conquests with impunity, and wears your presents, un- 
 der your nose, without your taking the smallest notice. 
 Poor Miss Warmestre has been very quietly brought to 
 bed in the midst of the court, without your having even 
 said a word about it. I foresaw it plain enough. Mon- 
 sieur le Chevalier, you have got acquainted with Miss 
 Hamilton, and, what has never before happened to you, 
 you are really in love ; but let us consider a little what 
 may be the consequence. In the first place, then, I be- 
 lieve, you have not tlie least intention of seducing her .' 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 159 
 
 suc'h is her birth and merit, that if you were in posses- 
 sion of the estate and title of your family, it might be 
 excusable in you to offer yourself upon honorable terms, 
 however ridiculous marriage may be in general ; for, if 
 you only wish for wit, prudence, and the treasures of 
 beauty, you could not pay your addresses to a more 
 proper person : but for you, who possess only a very 
 moderate share of those of fortune, you cannot pay your 
 addresses more improperly. 
 
 ' ' For your brother Toulongeon, whose disposition I 
 am acquainted with, will not have the complaisance to 
 die, to favor your pretensions : but suppose you had a 
 competent fortune for you both — and that is supposing 
 a good deal — are you acquainted with the delicacy, not 
 to say capriciousness, of this fair one about such an en- 
 gagement ? Do you know that she has had the choice 
 of the best matches in England ? The Duke of Rich- 
 mond paid his addresses to her first ; but though he was 
 in love with her, still he was mercenary : however, the 
 king, observing that want of fortune was the only im- 
 pediment to the match, took that article upon himself, 
 out of regard to the Duke of Ormond, to the merit and 
 birth of Miss Hamilton, and to her father's services ; 
 but, resenting that a man, who pretended to be in love, 
 should bargain like a merchant, and likewise reflecting 
 upon his character in the world, she did not think that 
 being Duchess of Richmond was a sufficient recompense 
 for the danger that was to be feared from a brute and a 
 debauchee. 
 
 "Has not little Jermyn, notwithstanding his uncle's 
 great estate, and his own brilliant reputation, failed in 
 his suit to her ? And has she ever so much as vouch- 
 safed to look at Henry Howard, * who is upon the point 
 
 * This was Henry Howard, brother to Thomas, Earl of Arundel, who 
 by a special act of parliament, in 1664, was restored to the honors of 
 the family, forfeited by the attainder of his ancestor, in the time of 
 Queen Elizabeth, On the death of bi? brother, in 1667, he becatng 
 
160 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 of being the first duke in England, and who is already 
 in actual possession of all the estates of the house of Nor- 
 folk ? I confess that he is a clown, but what other lady 
 in all England would not have dispensed with his stu- 
 pidity and his disagreeable person to be the first duchess 
 in the kingdom, with twenty-five thousand a year ? 
 
 ' ' To conclude. Lord Falmouth has told me himself, 
 that he has always looked upon her as the only acquisi- 
 tion wanting to complete his happiness : but, that even 
 at the height of the splendor of his fortune, he never had 
 had the assurance to open his sentiments to her ; that he 
 either felt in himself too much weakness, or too much 
 pride, to be satisfied with obtaining her solely by the 
 persuasion of her relations ; and that, though the first 
 refusals of the fair on such occasions are not much 
 minded, he knew with what an air she had received the 
 addresses of those whose persons she did not like. After 
 this. Monsieur le Chevalier, consider what method you 
 intend to pursue : for, if you are in love, the passion will 
 still increase, and the greater the attachment, the less 
 capable will you be of making those serious reflections 
 that are now in your power. ' ' 
 
 "My poor philosopher," answered the Chevalier de 
 Grammont, ' ' you understand Latin very well, you can 
 make good verses, you understand the course, and are 
 acquainted with the nature of the stars in the firmament; 
 but, as for the luminaries of the terrestrial globe, you 
 are utterly unacquainted with them : you have told me 
 nothing about Miss Hamilton but what the king told me 
 three days ago. That she has refused the savages you 
 have mentioned is all in her favor : if she had admitted 
 their addresses, I would have had nothing to say to her, 
 though I love her to distraction. Attend now to what I 
 am going to say : I am resolved to marry her, and I will 
 
 Duke of Norfolk, and died January ii, 1683-4, at his house in Arundel 
 street, aged 55. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 161 
 
 have my tutor Saint Evremond himself to be the first 
 man to commend me for it. As for an establishment, I 
 shall make my peace with the king, and will solicit him 
 to make her one of the ladies of the bed-chamber to the 
 queen : this he will grant me. Toulongeon will die, with- 
 out my assistance, * and notwithstanding all his care ; and 
 Miss Hamilton will have Semeat,t with the Chevalier 
 de Grammont, as an indemnification for the Norfolks 
 and Richmonds. Now, have you anything to advance 
 against this project ? For I will bet you an hundred 
 louis that everything will happen as I have foretold it. ' ' 
 At this time the king's attachment to Miss Stewart 
 was so public, that every person perceived, that if she 
 was but possessed of art, she might become as absolute a 
 mistress over his conduct as she was over his heart. 
 This was a fine opportunity for those who had experience 
 and ambition. The Duke of Buckingham formed the 
 design of governing her, in order to ingratiate himself 
 with the king : God knows what a governor he would 
 have been, and what a head he was possessed of, to guide 
 another ; however, he was the properest man in the 
 world to insinuate himself with Miss Stewart ; she was 
 childish in her behavior, and laughed at everything, 
 and her taste for frivolous amusements, though unaf- 
 fected, was only allowable in a girl about twelve or thir- 
 teen years old. A child, however, she was, in every 
 other respect, except playing with a doll : blind man's 
 buff was her most favorite amusement: she was building 
 castles of cards, while the deepest play was going on in 
 her apartments, where you saw her surrounded by eager 
 courtiers, who handed her the cards, or young architects, 
 who endeavored to imitate her. 
 
 * Count de Toulongeon was elder brother to Count Grammont, -who, 
 by bis death, in 1679, became, according to St. Bvremond, on that 
 event, one of the richest noblemen at Court. — See S(. £vremond's 
 Works, vol. ii., p. 327. 
 
 j- A country seat belonging to the family of the Grammonts, 
 11 
 
162 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 She had, however, a passion for music, and had some 
 taste for singing. The Duke of Buckingham, who 
 built the iinest towers of cards imaginable, had an agree- 
 able voice: she had no aversion to scandal: and the duke 
 was both the father and the mother of scandal; he made 
 songs, and invented old women' s stories, with which she 
 was delighted ; but his particular talent consisted in turn- 
 ing into ridicule whatever was ridiculous in other people, 
 and in taking them off, even in their presence, without 
 their perceiving it: in short, he knew how to act all parts 
 with so much grace and pleasantry, that it was difficult 
 to do without him, when he had a mind to make himself 
 agreeable; and he made himself so necessary to Miss 
 Stewart's amusement, that she sent all over the town to 
 seek for him, when he did not attend the king to her 
 apartments. 
 
 He was extremely handsome,* and still thought him- 
 
 * George Villiers, the second Duke of Buckingham, was bom 30th 
 January, 1627. Lord Orford observes, " When this extraordinary man, 
 ■with the figure and genius of Alcibiades, could equally charm the 
 presbyterian Fairfax and the dissolute Charles ; when he alike ridiculed 
 that witty king and his solemn chancellor ; when he plotted the ruin 
 of his country with a cabal of bad ministers, or, equally unprincipled, 
 supported its cause with bad patriots, — one laments that such parts 
 should have been devoid of every virtue ; but when Alcibiades turns 
 chemist ; when he is a real bubble and a visionary miser ; when ambi- 
 tion is but a frolic ; when the worst designs are for the foolishest ends, 
 — contempt extinguishes all reflection on his character." 
 
 " The portrait of this duke has been drawn by four masterly hands. 
 Bumet has hewn it out with his rough chisel ; Count Hamilton touched 
 it with that slight delicacy that finishes while it seems but to sketch ; 
 Dryden caught the living likeness ; Pope completed the historical re- 
 semblance." — Royal Authors, vol. ii., p. 78. 
 
 Of these four portraits, the second is in the text ; the other three will 
 complete the character of this extraordinary nobleman. 
 
 Bishop Burnet says, he "was a man of noble presence. He had a 
 great liveliness of wit, and a peculiar faculty of turning all things into 
 ridicule, with bold figures, and natural descriptions. He had no sort 
 of literature, only he was drawn into chemistry ; and for some years 
 he thought he was very near finding the philosopher's stone, which 
 had the effect that attends on all such men as he was, when they are 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 163 
 
 self much more so than he really was: although he had a 
 great deal of discernment, yet his vanity made him mis- 
 drawn in, to lay out for it. He had no principles of religion, virtue, or 
 friendship : — pleasure, frolic, or extravagant diversion was all that he 
 laid to heart. He was true to nothing ; for he was not true to himself. 
 He had no steadiness nor conduct : he could keep no secret, nor exe- 
 cute any design without spoiling it. He could never fix his thoughts, 
 nor govern his estate, though then the greatest in England. He was 
 bred about the king, and for many years he had a great ascendancy 
 over him ; but he spake of him to all persons with that contempt, that 
 at last he drew a lasting disgrace upon himself. And he at length 
 ruined both body and mind, fortune and reputation equally. The mad- 
 ness of vice appeared in his person in very eminent instances ; since at 
 last he became contemptible and poor, sickly, and sunk in his parts, 
 as well as in all other respects ; so that his cpnversation was as much 
 avoided as ever it had been courted." — History of his Own Times, vol. 
 J., p. 137. 
 Dryden's character of him is in these lines : 
 
 " In the first rank of these did Zimri stand ; 
 
 A man so various, that he seem'd to be 
 
 Not one, but all mankind's epitome : 
 
 Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong ; 
 
 Was everything by starts, and nothing long. 
 
 But, in the course of one revolving moon, 
 
 "Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; 
 
 Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, 
 
 Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking. 
 
 Blest madman, who could every hour employ 
 
 With something new to wish or to enjoy ! 
 
 Railing and praising were his usual themes. 
 
 And both, to show; his judgment, in extremes ; 
 
 So over violent, or over civil, 
 
 That every man with him was god or devil. 
 
 In squandering wealth was his peculiar art ; 
 
 Nothing went tmrewarded but desert 
 
 Beggar'd by fools, whom still he found too late ; 
 
 He had his jest, and they had his estate : 
 
 He laugh'd himself from court, then sought relief 
 
 By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief; 
 
 For, spite of him, the weight of business fell 
 
 On Absalom and wise Ahitophel : 
 
 Thus wicked but in will, of means bereft, 
 
 He left not faction, but of that was left." 
 
 Absalom and Ahitophfi, 
 
164 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 take some civilities as intended for his person, which 
 were only bestowed on his wit and drollery : in short, 
 being seduced by too good an opinion of his own merit, 
 he forgot his first project and his Portuguese mistress, in 
 order to pursue a fancy in which he mistook himself; 
 for he no sooner began to act a serious part with Miss 
 Stewart, than he met with so severe a repulse that 
 he abandoned, at once, all his designs upon her : how- 
 ever, the familiarity she had procured him with the king, 
 opened the way to those favors to which he was after- 
 wards advanced. 
 
 Lord Arlington* took up the project which the Duke 
 
 Pope describes the last scene of this nobleman's life in these lines : 
 " In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung, 
 The floors of plaster, and the walls of dung, 
 On once a ilock-bed, but repair'd with straw. 
 With tape-tied curtains, never meant to draw ; 
 The George and Garter dangling from that bed, 
 Where tawdry yellow strove with dirty red, 
 Great Villiers lies : — alas ! how chang'd from him. 
 That life of pleasure, and that soul of whim ! 
 Gallant and gay, in Clieveden's proud alcove, 
 The bower of wanton Shrewsbury and love ; 
 Or, just as gay, at council, in a ring 
 Of mimic'd statesmen, and their merry king. 
 No wit, to flatter, left of all his store ! 
 No fool to laugh at, which he valued more. 
 There, victor of his health, of fortune, friends. 
 And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends." 
 
 Moral Essays, Epist. iii., 1. 299. 
 He died i6th April, 1688, at the house of a tenant, at Kirby Moor 
 Side, near Helmsley, in Yorkshire, aged 61 years, and was buried in 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 * Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington, principal secretary of state, and 
 lord chamberlain to King Charles II. : a nobleman whose practices, 
 during that reign, have not left his character free from reproach. Mr. 
 Macpherson says of him, that he "supplied the place of extensive 
 talents by an artful management of such as he possessed. Accom- 
 modating in his principles, and easy in his address, he pleased when 
 he was known to deceive ; and his manner acquired to him a kind of 
 influence where he commanded no respect. He was little calculated 
 for bold measures, on account of his natural timidity ; and that defect 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOnT. 165 
 
 of Buckingham had abandoned, and endeavored to gain 
 possession of the mind of the mistress, in order to govern 
 the master. A man of greater merit and higher birth 
 than himself might, however, have been satisfied with 
 the fortune he had already acquired. His first negotia- 
 tions were during the treaty of the Pyrenees: and though 
 he was unsuccessful in his proceedings for his employer, 
 yet he did not altogether lose his time ; for he perfectly 
 acquired, in his exterior, the serious air and profound 
 gravity of the Spaniards, and imitated pretty well their 
 tardiness in business : he had a scar across his nose, 
 which was covered by a long patch, or rather by a small 
 plaster, in form of a lozenge. 
 
 Scars in the face commonly give a man a certain fierce 
 and martial air, which sets him oiF to advantage ; but it 
 was quite the contrary with him, and this remarkable 
 plaster so well suited his mysterious looks, that it seemed 
 an addition to his gravity and self-sufficiency. 
 
 Arlington, under the mask of this compound counte- 
 nance, where great earnestness passed for business, and 
 impenetrable stupidity for secrecy, had given himself the 
 character of a great politician; and no one having leisure 
 to examine him, he was taken at his word, and had been 
 made minister and secretary of state, upon the credit of 
 his own importance. 
 
 created an opinion of his moderation that was ascribed to virtue. His 
 facility to adopt new measures was forgotten in his readiness to 
 acknowledge the errors of the old. The deficiency of his integrity 
 was forgiven in the decency of his dishonesty. Too weak not to be 
 superstitious, yet possessing too much sense to own his adherence to the 
 church of Rome, he lived a protestant in his outward profession, but 
 he died a catholic. Timidity was the chief characteristic of his mind ; 
 and that being known, he was even commanded by cowards. He 
 was the man of the least genius of the party : but he had most 
 experience in that slow and constant current of business, which, per- 
 haps, suits affairs of state better than the violent exertions of men of 
 great parts." — Original Papers, vol. i. Lord Arlington died July 28, 
 1685. See a character of him in Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham's 
 Works. 
 
166 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GE.AMMONT. 
 
 His ambition soaring still above these high stations, 
 after having provided himself with a great number of 
 fine maxims, and some historical anecdotes, he obtained 
 an audience of Miss Stewart, in order to display them; at 
 the same time offering her his most humble services, and 
 best advice, to assist her in conducting herself in the sit- 
 uation to which it had pleased God and her virtue to 
 raise her. But he was only in the preface of his speech, 
 when she recollected that he was at the head of those 
 whom the Duke of Buckingham used to mimic ; and as 
 his presence and his language exactly revived the ridicu- 
 lous ideas that had been given her of him, she could not 
 forbear bursting out into a fit of laughter in his face, so 
 much the more violent as she had for a long time strug- 
 gled to suppress it. 
 
 The minister was enraged : his pride became his post, 
 and his punctilious behavior merited all the ridicule which 
 could be attached to it: he quitted her abruptly, with all 
 the fine advice he had prepared for her, and was almost 
 tempted to carry it to I^ady Castlemaine, and to unite 
 himself with her interests ; or immediately to quit the 
 court party, and declaim freely in parliament against 
 the grievances of the state, and particularly to propose 
 an act to forbid the keeping of mistresses ; but his pru- 
 dence conquered his resentments ; and thinking only 
 how to enjoy with pleasure the blessings of fortune, he 
 sent to Holland for a wife,* in order to complete his 
 felicity. 
 
 Hamilton was, of all the courtiers, the best qualified 
 
 * This lady was Isabella, daughter to I,ewis de Nassau, Lord Bever- 
 •waert, son to Maurice, Prince of Orange, and Count Nassau. By her. 
 Lord Arlington had an only daughter, named Isabella, who married, 
 August I, 1672, Henry, Earl of Euston, son to King Charles II., by 
 Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, created afterwards Duke of Grafton ; 
 and, after iis death, to Sir Thomas Hanmer, Bart. She assisted at the 
 coronation of King George I., as Countess of Arlington, in her own 
 right, and died February 7, 1722-3. 
 
MEMOlkS OP COtJN'l* cifeAMMON*. 167 
 
 to succeed in an enterprise in which the Duke of Buck- 
 ingham and Lord Arlington had miscarried : he was 
 thinking upon it ; but his natural coquetry traversed his 
 intentions, and made him neglect the most advantageous 
 prospects in the world, in order unnecessarily to attend 
 to the advances and allurements thrown out to him by 
 the Countess of Chesterfield. This was one of the most 
 agreeable women in the world : she had a most exquisite 
 shape, though she was not very tall; her complexion 
 was extremely fair, with all the expressive charms of a 
 brunette ; she had large blue eyes, very tempting and 
 alluring ; her manners were engaging ; her wit lively 
 and amusing ; but her heart, ever open to tender senti- 
 ments, was neither scrupulous in point of constancy, 
 nor nice in point of sincerity. She was daughter to the 
 Duke of Orm'ond, * and Hamilton, being her cousin- 
 german, they might be as much as they pleased in each 
 other's company without being particular ; but as soon 
 as her eyes gave him some encouragement, he enter- 
 tained no other thoughts than how to please her, with- 
 out considering her fickleness, or the obstacles he had to 
 encounter. His intention, which we mentioned before, 
 of establishing himself in the confidence of Miss Stewart 
 no longer occupied his thoughts: she now was of opinion 
 that she was capable of being the mistress of her own 
 conduct : she had done all that was necessary to inflame 
 the king's passions, without exposing her virtue by 
 granting the last favors; but the eagerness of a passionate 
 lover, blessed with favorable opportunities, is difiicult 
 to withstand, and still more difiicult to vanquish ; and 
 Miss Stewart's virtue was almost exhausted, when the 
 queen was attacked with a violent fever, which soon 
 reduced her to extreme danger. 
 
 * And second wife of the Earl of Chesterfield. She survived the ad- 
 ventures here related a very short time, dying in July, 1665, at the age 
 of 25 years. 
 
168 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Then it was that Miss Stewart was greatly pleased 
 with herself for the resistance she had made, though she 
 had paid dearly for it : a thousand flattering hopes of 
 greatness and glory filled her heart, and the additional 
 respect that was universally paid her contributed not a 
 little to increase them. The queen was given over by 
 her physicians : * the few Portuguese women that had 
 not been sent back to their own country filled the court 
 with doleful cries ; and the good nature of the king was 
 much affected with the situation in which he saw a 
 princess, whom, though he did not love her, yet he 
 greatly esteemed. She loved him tenderly, and think- 
 ing that it was the last time she should ever speak to 
 him, she told him, that the concern he showed for hei 
 death was enough to make her quit life with regret ; but 
 that not possessing charms sufficient to merit his tender- 
 ness, she had at least the consolation in dying to give 
 place to a consort who might be more worthy of it, and 
 to whom heaven, perhaps, might grant a blessing that 
 had been refused to her. At these words, she bathed his 
 hands with some tears, which he thought would be her 
 last : he mingled his own with hers ; and without sup- 
 posing she would take him at his word, he conjured her 
 to live for his sake. She had never yet disobeyed him ; 
 and, however dangerous sudden impulses may be, when 
 one is between life and death, this transport of joy, 
 which might have proved fatal to her, saved her life, 
 and the king's wonderful tenderness had an effect for 
 
 * This happened in October, 1663. Lord Arlington, in a letter to the 
 Duke of Ormond, dated the 17th of that month, says, "the condition 
 of the queen is much worse, and the physicians give us but little hopes 
 of her recovery ; by the next you will hear she is either in a fair way 
 to it, or dead : to-morrow is a very critical day with her : God's will be 
 done. The king coming to see her this morning, she told him she 
 willingly left all the world but him ; which hath very much afflicted 
 his majesty, and all the court with him." — Brown's Miscellanea 
 Aulica, 1702, p. 306. 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT* GkAMMONT. l69 
 
 which every person did not thank heaven in the same 
 manner. 
 
 Jermyn had now for some time been recovered of his 
 wounds: however, Lady Castlemaine, finding his health 
 in as deplorable a condition as ever, resolved to regain 
 the king's heart, but in vain : for notwithstanding the 
 softness of her tears, and the violence of her passions. 
 Miss Stewart wholly possessed it. During this period 
 the court was variously entertained : sometimes there 
 were promenades, and at others the court beauties sallied 
 out on horseback, and to make attacks with their charms 
 and graces, sometimes successfully, sometimes other- 
 wise, but always to the best of their abilities : at other 
 seasons there were such shows on the river as the city 
 of London alone can afford. 
 
 The Thames washes the sides of a large though not a 
 magnificent palace of the kings of Great Britain : * from 
 the stairs of this palace the court used to take water in 
 the summer evenings, when the heat and dust prevented 
 their walking in the park : an infinite number of open 
 boats, filled with the court and city beauties, attended 
 the barges, in which were the Royal Family : collations, 
 music and fireworks, completed the scene. The Cheva- 
 lier de Grammont always made one of the company, 
 and it was very seldom that he did not add something 
 of his own invention, agreeably to surprise by some un- 
 expected stroke of magnificence and gallantry. Some- 
 times he had complete concerts of vocal and instrumental 
 music, which he privately brought from Paris, and which 
 struck up on a sudden in the midst of these parties ; 
 sometimes he gave banquets, which likewise came from 
 France, and which, even in the midst of Ivondon, sur- 
 passed the king's collations. These entertainments 
 sometimes exceeded, as others fell short of his expecta- 
 
 * This was Whiteliall, whicli was burnt down, except the banqueting- 
 house, 4th January, 1698. — See Harleian Miscellany, vol. vi., p. 367. 
 
170 MKMOlRS OI' COtJNT grammon'i*. 
 
 tions, but they always cost him an immense deal of 
 money. 
 
 Lord Falmouth was one of those who had the greatest 
 friendship and esteem for the Chevalier de Grammont : 
 this profusion gave him concern, and as he often used to 
 go and sup with him without ceremony, one day finding 
 only Saint Evremond there, and a supper fit for half a 
 dozen guests, who had been invited in form: "You must 
 not," said he, addressing himself to the Chevalier de 
 Grammont, "be obliged to me for this visit. I come 
 from the king's coucher^ where all the discourse was 
 about you ; and I can assure you that the manner in 
 which the king spoke of you, could not afford you so 
 much pleasure as I myself felt upon the occasion. You 
 know very well, that he has long since offered you his 
 good offices with the King of France ; and for my own 
 part," continued he, smiling, "you know very well that 
 I would solicit him so to do, if it was not through fear 
 of losing you as soon as your peace is made ; but, thanks 
 to Miss Hamilton, you are in no great haste : however, 
 I am ordered by the king, my master, to acquaint you, 
 that while you remain here, until you are restored to the 
 favor of your sovereign, he presents you with a pension 
 of fifteen hundred Jacobus's : it is indeed a trifle, con- 
 sidering the figure the Chevalier de Grammont makes 
 among us ; but it will assist him, ' ' said he, embracing 
 him, " to give us sometimes a supper." 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont received, as he ought, 
 the offer of a favor he did not think proper to accept: "I 
 acknowledge," said he, " the king's bounty in this pro- 
 posal, but I am still more sensible of L,ord Falmouth's 
 generosity in it ; and I request him to assure his Majesty 
 of my perfect gratitude : the king, my master, will not 
 suffer me to want, when he thinks fit to recall me ; and 
 while I continue here, I will let you see that I have 
 wherewithal to give my English friends now and then a 
 supper." 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 171 
 
 At these words, he called for his strong box, and 
 showed him seven or eight thousand guineas in solid 
 gold. lyord Falmouth, willing to improve to the Cheva- 
 lier's advantage the refusal of so advantageous an offer, 
 gave Monsieur de Comminge, * then ambassador at the 
 English court, an account of it ; nor did Monsieur de 
 Comminge fail to represent properly the merit of such a 
 refusal to the French court. 
 
 Hyde Park, every one knows, is the promenade of 
 London : f nothing was so much in fashion, during the 
 fine weather, as that promenade, which was the rendez- 
 vous of magnificeijice and beauty : every one, therefore, 
 who had either sparkling eyes, or a sjflendid equipage, 
 constantly repaired thither; and the king seemed pleased 
 with the place. 
 
 Coaches with glasses J were then a late invention : the 
 
 *This gentleman was ambassador in London, from the court of 
 France, during the years 1663, 1664, and 1665. Lord Clarendon, 
 speaking of him, describes him as something capricious in his nature, 
 ■which made him hard to treat with, and not always vacant at the 
 hours himself assigned ; being hypochondriac, and seldom sleeping 
 without opium. — Continuation of Clarendon's Life, p. 263. 
 
 t The writer already quoted gives this description of the entertain- 
 ments of the place at this period : 
 
 "I did frequently, in the spring, accompany my lord N into a 
 
 field near the town, which they call Hyde Park ; the place is not 
 unpleasant, and which they use as our course ; but with nothing of 
 that order, equipage, and splendor; being such an assembly of 
 wretched jades, and hackney coaches, as, next a regiment of car- 
 men, there is nothing approaches the resemblance. This park was 
 (it seems) used by the late king and nobility for the freshness of the 
 air and the goodly prospect ; but it is that which now (besides all 
 other excises) they pay for here, in England, though it be free in 
 all the world besides ; every coach and horse which enters buying his 
 mouthful, and permission of the publican who has purchased it ; for 
 which the entrance is guarded with porters and long staves. — A Char- 
 acter of England, as it was lately presented to a Nobleman of France, 
 i2mo., 1659, p. 54. 
 
 i Coaches were first introduced into England in the year 1564. 
 Taylor, the water poet {Works, 1630, p. 240), says, — "One William 
 Boonen, a Dutchman, brought first the use of coaches hither ; and the 
 
172 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GS.AMMONT. 
 
 ladies were afraid of being shut up in them: they greatly 
 preferred the pleasure of showing almost their whole 
 persons, to the conveniences of modern coaches : that 
 which was made for the king not being remarkable for 
 its elegance, the Chevalier de Grammont was of opinion 
 that something ingenious might be invented, which 
 should partake of the ancient fashion, and likewise prove 
 preferable to the modern; he therefore sent away Termes 
 privately with all the necessary instructions to Paris: the 
 Duke of Guise was likewise charged with this commission; 
 and the courier, having by the favor of Providence 
 escaped the quicksand, in a month's time brought safely 
 over to England, the most elegant and magnificent calash 
 that had ever been seen, which the Chevalier presented 
 to the king. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont had given orders that fif- 
 teen hundred louis should be expended upon it; but the 
 Duke of Guise, who was his friend, to oblige him, laid 
 out two thousand. All the court was in admiration at 
 the magnificence of the present ; and the king, charmed 
 with the Chevalier's attention to everything which 
 could afford him pleasure, failed not to acknowledge it : 
 he would not, however, accept a present of so much 
 value, but upon condition that the Chevalier should not 
 refuse another from him. 
 
 The queen, imagining that so splendid a carriage 
 might prove fortunate for her, wished to appear in it first, 
 
 said Boonen was Queen Elizabeth's coachman ; for, indeed, a coach was 
 a strange monster in those days, and the sight of them put both horse 
 and ma"n into amazement." Dr. Percy observes, they were first drawn 
 by two horses, and that it was the favorite Buckingham, who, about 
 1619, began to draw it with six horses. About the same time, he intro- 
 duced the sedan. The Ultimutn Vale of John Carleton, 4to., 1663, 
 p. 23, will, in a great measure, ascertain the time of the introduction 
 of glass coaches. He says, "I could wish her {i. e. Mary Carleton's) 
 coach (which she said my lord TaflF bought for her in England, and sent 
 it over to her, made of the new fashion, with glasse, very stately ; and 
 her pages and lacquies were of the same livery) was come for me," etc. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 1V3 
 
 with the Duchess of York. Lady Castlemaine, who had 
 seen them in it, thinking that it set off a fine figure to 
 greater advantage than any other, desired the king to 
 lend her this wonderful calash to appear in it the first 
 fine day in Hyde Park : Miss Stewart had the same wish, 
 and requested to have it on the same day. As it was 
 impossible to reconcile these two goddesses, whose for- 
 mer union was turned into mortal hatred, the king was 
 very much perplexed. 
 
 Lady Castlemaine was with child, and threatened to 
 miscarry, if her rival was preferred ; Miss Stewart 
 threatened, that she never would be with child, if her 
 request was not granted. This menace prevailed, and 
 Lady Castlemaine's rage was so great, that _ she had 
 almost kept her word; and it was believed that this 
 triumph cost her rival some of her innocence. 
 
 The queen dowager, who, though she had no share in 
 these broils, had no objection to them, and as usual being 
 diverted with this circumstance, she took occasion to joke 
 with the Chevalier de Grammont, for having thrown 
 this bone of contention among such competitors ; and 
 did not fail to give him, in the presence of the whole 
 court, those praises which so magnificent a present 
 deserved: "But how comes it," said she, "that you have 
 no equipage yourself, though you are at so great an ex- 
 pense ? for I am told that you do not keep even a single 
 footman, and that one of the common runners in the 
 streets lights you home with a stinking link." " Mad- 
 am," said he, "the Chevalier de Grammont hates pomp: 
 my link-boy, of whom you speak, is faithful to my ser- 
 vice; and besides, he is one of the bravest fellows in the 
 world. Your Majesty is unacquainted with the nation 
 of link-boys : it is a charming one, I can assure you : a 
 man cannot step out in the night without being sur- 
 rounded by a dozen of them. The first time I became 
 acquainted with them, I retained all that offered me 
 their services; so that when I arrived at Whitehall, I had 
 
'74 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 at least two hundred about my chair: the sight was new; 
 for those who had seen me pass with this illumination, 
 asked whose funeral it was. These gentlemen, however, 
 began fighting about some dozen shillings I had thrown 
 among them then ; and he whom your Majesty mentions, 
 having beaten three or four of his companions, I retained 
 him for his valor. As for the parade of coaches and 
 footmen, I despise it : I have sometimes had five or six 
 valets-de-chambre at once, without having a single ser- 
 vant in livery, except my chaplain Poussatin. " " How ! ' ' 
 said the queen, bursting out laughing, "a chaplain in 
 your livery ! he surely was not a priest? *' " Pardon me, 
 madam," said he, "and the first priest in the world for 
 dancing the Biscayan jig." "Chevalier," said the 
 king, "pray tell us the history of your chaplain 
 Poussatin. ' ' 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ' ' Sire, ' ' said the Chevalier de Gratnmont, ' ' the Prince 
 de Cond^ besieged Lerida : * the place in itself was 
 nothing ; but Don Gregorio Brice, who defended it, was 
 something. He was one of those Spaniards of the old 
 stamp, as valiant as the Cid, as proud as all the Guzmans 
 put together, and more gallant than all the Abencerrages 
 of Grenada : he suffered us to make our first approaches 
 to the place without the least molestation. The Marshal 
 de Grammont, f whose maxim it was, that a governor 
 who at first makes a great blustering, and burns his 
 suburbs in order to make a noble defence, generally 
 makes a very bad one, looked upon Gregorio de Brice' s 
 politeness as no good omen for us ; but the prince, cov- 
 ered with glory, and elated with the campaigns of 
 Rocroy, Norlinguen, and Fribourg, to insult both the 
 
 *This was in 1647. Voltaire says "he, Cond^, was accused, upon 
 this occasion, in certain books, of a bravado, in having opened the 
 trenches to the music of violins ; but these writers were ignorant that 
 this was the custom of Spain." — Age of Louis XIV., chap. 2. 
 
 t Anthony, mar^chal of France. He appears to have quitted the 
 army in 1672. "Le Due de la Feuillade est colonel du regiment des 
 gardes sur la ddmission volontaire du Mar&hal de Grammont;" — Hi- 
 nauWs History of France. He died 1678. 
 
 (175) 
 
176 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 plav-> and the governor, ordered the trenches to hi. 
 mounted at noonday by his own regiment, at the head 
 of which marched four-and-twenty fiddlers, as if it had 
 been to a wedding. 
 
 ' ' Night approaching, we were all in high spirits : our 
 violins were playing soft airs, and we were comfortably 
 regaling ourselves : God knows how we were joking 
 about the poor governor and his fortifications, both of 
 which we promised ourselves to take in less than twenty- 
 four hours. This was going on in the trenches, when 
 we heard an ominous cry from the ramparts, repeated 
 two or three times, of, 'Alerte on the walls ! ' This cry 
 was followed by a discharge of cannon and musketry, 
 and this discharge by a vigorous sally, which, after hav- 
 ing filled up the trenches, pursued us as far as our grand 
 guard. 
 
 "The next day Gregorio Brice sent by a trumpet a 
 present of ice and fruit to the Prince de Condd, humbly 
 beseeching his highness to excuse his not returning the 
 serenade which he was pleased to favor him with, as 
 unfortunately he had no violins ; but that if the music 
 of last night was not disagreeable to him, he would en- 
 deavor to continue it as long as he did him the honor to 
 remain before the place. The Spaniard was as good as 
 his word ; and as soon as we heard, 'Alerte on the walls,' 
 we were sure of a sally, that cleared our trenches, de- 
 stroyed our works, and killed the best of our officers and 
 soldiers. The prince was so piqued at it, that, contrary 
 to the opinion of the general ofl&cers, he obstinately per- 
 sisted in carrying on a siege which was like to ruin his 
 army, and which he was at last forced to quit in a 
 hurry. 
 
 ' 'As our troops were retiring, Don Gregorio, far from 
 giving himself those airs which governors generally do 
 on such occasions, made no other sally than sending a 
 respectful compliment to the prince. Signor Brice set 
 out not long after for Madrid, to give an account of his 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 177 
 
 conduct, and to receive the recompense he had merited. 
 Your majesty perhaps will be desirous to know what 
 reception poor Brice met with, after having performed 
 the most brilliant action the Spaniards could boast of in 
 all the war — he was confined by the inquisition. ' ' 
 
 "How!" said the queen dowager, "confined by the 
 inquisition for his services?" "Not altogether for his 
 services," said the Chevalier ; "but without any regard 
 to his services, he was treated in the manner I have men- 
 tioned for a little affair of gallantry, which I shall relate 
 to the king presently. 
 
 "The campaign of Catalonia being thus ended, we 
 were returning home, not overloaded with laurels ; but 
 as the Prince de Condd had laid up a great store on 
 former occasions, and as he had still great projects in his 
 head, he soon forgot this trifling misfortune : we did 
 nothing but joke with one another during the march, 
 and the prince was the first to ridicule the siege. We 
 made some of those rhymes on I,erida, which were sung 
 all over France, in order to prevent others more severe ; 
 however, we gained nothing by it, for notwithstanding 
 we treated ourselves freely in our own ballads, others 
 were composed in Paris in which we were teii times more 
 severely handled. At last we arrived at Perpignan upon 
 a holy-day : a company of Catalans, who were dancing 
 in the middle of the street, out of respect to the prince 
 came to dance under his windows : Monsieur Poussatin, 
 in a little black jacket, danced in the middle of this 
 company, as if he was really mad. I immediately recog- 
 nized him for my countryman, from his manner of skip- 
 ping and frisking about : the prince was charmed with 
 his humor and activity. After the dance, I sent for him, 
 and inquired who he was : 'A poor priest, at your ser- 
 vice, my lord, ' said he : ' my name is Poussatin, and 
 Beam is my native country : I was going into Catalonia 
 to serve in the infantry, for, God be praised, I can march 
 very well on foot ; but since the war is happily con- 
 12 
 
178 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 eluded, if your lordship pleases to take me into your 
 service, I would follow you everywhere, and serve you 
 faithfully.' 'Monsieur Poussatin,' said I, 'my lordship 
 has no great occasion for a chaplain ; but since y(^ are 
 so well disposed towards me, I will take you into my 
 service. ' 
 
 "The Prince de Cond^, who was present at this con- 
 versation, was overjoyed at my having a chaplain. As 
 poor Poussatin was in a very tattered condition, I had no 
 time to provide him with a proper habit at Perpignan ; 
 but giving him a spare livery of one of the Marshal de 
 Grammont's servants, I made him get up behind the 
 prince's coach, who was like to die with laughing every 
 time he looked at poor Poussatin' s uncanonical mien in 
 a yellow livery. 
 
 ' 'As soon as we arrived at Paris, the story was told to 
 the queen, who at first expressed some surprise at it : 
 this, however, did not prevent her from wishing to see 
 my chaplain dance ; for in Spain it is not altogether 
 so strange to see ecclesiastics dance, as to see them in 
 livery. 
 
 ' ' Poussatin performed wonders before the queen ; but 
 as he danced with great sprightliness, she could not bear 
 the odor which his violent motions diffused around her 
 room : the ladies likewise began to pray for relief ; for 
 he had almost entirely got the better of all the perfumes 
 and essences with which they were fortified : Poussatin, 
 nevertheless, retired with a great deal of applause, and 
 some louis d'or. 
 
 ' ' Some time afterwards I procured a small benefice in 
 the country for my chaplain, and I have since been in- 
 formed that Poussatin preached with the same ease in 
 his village as he danced at the wedding of his parish- 
 ioners." 
 
 The king was exceedingly diverted at Poussatin's 
 history ; and the queen was not much hurt at his having 
 been put in livery : the treatment of Gregorio BrJce 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 179 
 
 offended her far more ; and being desirous to justify the 
 court of Spain, with respect to so cruel a proceeding : 
 ' ' Chevalier de Grammont, ' ' said she, ' ' what heresy did 
 Governor Brice wish to introduce into the state ? What 
 crime against religion was he charged with, that he was 
 confined in the inquisition ? " " Madam, ' ' said he, ' ' the 
 history is not very proper to be related before your 
 majesty : it was a little amorous frolic, ill-timed indeed ; 
 but poor Brice meant no harm : a schoolboy would not 
 have been whipped for such a fault in the most severe 
 college in France ; as it was only for giving some proofs 
 of his affection to a young Spanish fair one, who had 
 fixed her eyes upon him on a solemn occasion. ' ' 
 
 The king desired to know the particulars of the ad- 
 venture ; and the Chevalier gratified his curiosity as soon 
 as the queen and the rest of the court were out of hear- 
 ing. It was very entertaining to hear him tell a story ; 
 but it was very disagreeable to differ with him, either in 
 competition, or in raillery : it is true that at that time there 
 were few persons at the English court who had merited 
 his indignation : Russell was sometimes the subject of 
 his ridicule, but he treated him far more tenderly than 
 he usually did a rival. 
 
 This Russell was one of the most furious dancers in 
 all England, I mean, for country dances : he had a col- 
 lection of two or three hundred in print, all of which he 
 danced at sight; and to prove that he was not an old man, 
 he sometimes danced until he was almost exhausted : 
 his mode of dancing was like that of his clothes, for they 
 both had been out of fashion full twenty years. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont was very sensible that he 
 was very much in love ; but though he saw very well 
 that it only rendered him more ridiculous, yet he felt 
 some concern at the information he received, of his in- 
 tention of demanding Miss Hamilton in marriage ; but 
 his concern did not last long. 
 
 Russell, being upon the point of setting out on a 
 
180 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 journey, thought it was proper to acquaint his mistress 
 with his intentions before his departure. The Chevalier 
 de Grammont was a great obstacle to the interview he 
 was desirous of obtaining of her ; but being one day sent 
 for, to go and play at Lady Castlemaine's, Russell seized 
 the opportunity, and addressing himself to Miss Hamil- 
 ton, with less embarrassment than is usual on such occa- 
 sions, he made his declaration to her in the following 
 manner : "I am brother to the Earl of Bedford : I com- 
 mand the regiment of guards : I have three thousand 
 pounds a year, and fifteen thousand in ready money : all 
 which, madam, I come to present to you, along with my 
 person. One present, I agree, is not worth much with- 
 out the other, and therefore I put them together. I am 
 advised to go to some of the watering places for some- 
 thing of an asthma, which, in all probability, cannot 
 continue much longer, as I have had it for these last 
 twenty years : if you look upon me as worthy of the hap- 
 piness of belonging to you, I shall propose it to your 
 father, to whom I did not think it right to apply before 
 I was acquainted with your sentiments : my nephew 
 William is at present entirely ignorant of my intention ; 
 but I believe he will not be sorry for it, though he will 
 thereby see himself deprived of a pretty considerable 
 estate ; for he has great affection for me, and besides, he 
 has a pleasure in paying his respects to you since he has 
 perceived my attachment. I am very much pleased that 
 he should make his court to me, by the attention he 
 pays to you ; for he did nothing but squander his money 
 upon that coquette Middleton, while at present he is at 
 no expense, though he frequents the best company in 
 England." 
 
 Miss Hamilton had much difficulty to suppress her 
 laughter during this harangue : however, she told him 
 that she thought herself much honored by his intentions 
 towards her, and still more obliged to him for consulting 
 her. before he m"'|,e anv overtures to her relations : "It 
 
mem6irs of count GRAMMONT. 181 
 
 will be time enough," said she, "to speak to them upon 
 the subject at your rettim from the waters ; for I do not 
 think it is at all probable that they will dispose of me 
 before that time, and in case they should be urgent in 
 their solicitations, your nephew William will take care 
 to acquaint you ; therefore, you may set out whenever 
 you think proper ; but take care not to injure your health 
 by returning too soon. ' ' 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, having heard the par- 
 ticulars of this conversation, endeavored, as well as he 
 could, to be entertained with it ; though there were cer- 
 tain circumstances in the declaration, notwithstanding 
 the absurdity of others, which did not fail to give him 
 some uneasiness. Upon the whole, he was not sorry for 
 Russell's departure ; and, assuming an air of pleasantry, 
 he went to relate to the king how Heaven had favored 
 him by delivering him from so dangerous a rival. "He 
 is gone then, Chevalier," said the king. "Certainly, 
 sir, ' ' said he ; "I had the honor to see him embark in a 
 coach, with his asthma, and country equipage, his 
 perruque a calotte, neatly tied with a yellow riband, and 
 his old-fashioned hat covered with oil-skin, which be- 
 comes him uncommonly well : therefore, I have only to 
 contend with William Russell, whom he leaves as his 
 resident with Miss Hamilton ; and as for him, I neither 
 fear him upon his own account, nor his uncle's ; he is 
 too much in love himself to pay attention to the interests 
 of another ; and as he has but one method of promoting 
 his own, which is by sacrificing the portrait, or some 
 love-letters of Mrs. Middleton, I have it easily in my 
 power to counteract him in such kind of favors, though 
 I confess I have pretty well paid for them." 
 
 ' ' Since your affairs proceed so prosperously with the 
 Russells," said the king, "I will acquaint you that you 
 are delivered from another rival, much more dangerous, 
 if he were not already married : my brother has lately 
 fallen in love with Lady Chesterfield." "How many 
 
182 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 blessings at once !" exclaimed the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont : "I have so many obligations to him for this in° 
 constancy, that I would willingly serve him in his new 
 amour, if Hamilton was not his rival : nor will yom 
 majesty take it ill, if I promote the interests of my mis- 
 tress's brother, rather than those of your majesty's 
 brother." "Hamilton, however," said the king, "does 
 not stand so much in need of assistance, in affairs of this 
 nature, as the Duke of York ; but I know Lord Chester- 
 field is of such a disposition, that he will not suffer men 
 to quarrel about his wife, with the same patience as the 
 complaisant Shrewsbury ; though he well deserves the 
 same fate." Here follows a true description of Lord 
 Chesterfield. * 
 
 He had a very agreeable face, a fine head of hair, an 
 indifferent shape, and a worse air ; he was not, however, 
 deficient in wit : a long residence in Italy had made him 
 ceremonious in his commerce with men, and jealous in 
 his connection with women : he had been much hated 
 by the king, because he had been much beloved by 
 Lady Castlemaine : it was reported that he had been in 
 her good graces prior to her marriage ; and as neither 
 of them denied it, it was the more generally believed. 
 
 He had paid his devoirs to the eldest daughter of the 
 Duke of Ormond, while his heart was still taken up with 
 his former passion : the king's love for Lady Castle- 
 maine, and the advancement he expected from such an 
 alliance, made him press the match with as much ardor 
 as if he had been passionately in love : he had therefore 
 
 * Philip, the second Earl of Chesterfield. He was constituted, in 
 1662, lord-chamberlain to the queen, and colonel of a regiment of foot, 
 June 13, 1667. On November 29, 1679, he was appointed lord-warden 
 and chief-justice of the king's forests on this side Trent, and sworn of 
 the privy-council, January 26, 1680. On November 6, 1682, he was made 
 colonel of the third regiment of foot, which, with the rest of his prefer- 
 ments, he resigned on the accession of James II. He lived to the age 
 of upwards of 80, and died January 28, 1713, at his house, in Blooms- 
 >)ury-sqnare. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 183 
 
 married Lady Chesterfield without loving her, and had 
 lived some time with her in such coolness as to leave her 
 no room to doubt of his indifference. As she was en- 
 dowed with great sensibility and delicacy, she suffered 
 at this contempt : she was at first much affected with his 
 behavior, and afterwards enraged at it ; and, when he 
 began to give her proofs of his affection, she had the 
 pleasure of convincing him of her indifference. 
 
 They were upon this footing, when she resolved to 
 cure Hamilton, as she had lately done her husband, of 
 all his remaining tenderness for L,ady Castlemaine. For 
 her it was no difiicult undertaking ; the conversation of 
 the one was disagreeable, from the unpolished state of 
 her manners, her ill-timed pride, her uneven temper, and 
 extravagant humors : I,ady Chesterfield, on the contrary, 
 knew how to heighten her charms with all the bewitch- 
 ing attractions in the power of a woman to invent who 
 wishes to make a conquest. 
 
 Besides all this, she had greater opportunities of mak- 
 ing advances to him than to any other : she lived at the 
 Duke of Ormond's, at Whitehall, where Hamilton, as 
 was said before, had free admittance at all hours : her 
 extreme coldness, or rather the disgust which she showed 
 for her husband's returning affection, wakened his nat- 
 ural inclination to jealousy : he suspected that she could 
 not so very suddenly pass from anxiety to indifference for 
 him, without some secret object of a new attachment ; 
 and, according to the maxim of all jealous husbands, he 
 immediately put in practice all his experience and in- 
 dustry, in order to make a discovery, which was to de- 
 stroy his own happiness. 
 
 Hamilton, who knew his disposition, was, on the 
 other hand, upon his guard, and the more he advanced 
 in his intrigue, the more attentive was he to remove 
 every degree of suspicion from the earl's mind : he pre- 
 tended to make him his confidant, in the most unguarded 
 and open manner, of his passion for I,ady Castlemaine ; 
 
184 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 he complained of her caprice, and most earnestly desired 
 his advice how to succeed with a person whose affections 
 he alone had entirely possessed. 
 
 Chesterfield, who was flattered with this discourse, 
 promised him^ his protection with greater sincerity than 
 it had been demanded : Hamilton, therefore, was no 
 further embarrassed than to preserve I^ady Chesterfield's 
 reputation, who, in his opinion, declared herself rather 
 too openly in his favor : but whilst he was diligently 
 employed in regulating, within the rules of discretion, 
 the partiality she expressed for him, and in conjuring 
 her to restrain her glances within bounds, she was re- 
 ceiving those of the Duke of York ; and, what is more, 
 made them favorable returns. 
 
 He thought that he had perceived it, as well as every 
 one besides ; but he thought likewise, that all the world 
 was deceived as well as himself: how could he trust his 
 own eyes, as to what those of Lady Chesterfield be- 
 trayed for this new rival ? He could not think it prob- 
 able, that a woman of her disposition could relish a man 
 whose manners had a thousand times been the subject of 
 their private ridicule ; but what he judged still more 
 improbable was, that she should begin another intrigue 
 before she had given the finishing stroke to that in which 
 her own advances had engaged her : however, he began 
 to observe her with more circumspection, when he found 
 by his discoveries, that if she did not deceive him, at 
 least the desire of doing so was not wanting. This he 
 took the liberty of telling her of; but she answered him 
 in so high a strain, and treated what he said so much 
 like a phantom of his own imagination, that he appeared 
 confused without being convinced : all the satisfaction 
 he could procure from her, was her telling him, in a 
 haughty manner, that such unjust reproaches as his 
 ought to have had a better foundation. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield had taken the same alarm ; and being 
 convinced, from the observations he had made, that he 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 185 
 
 had found out the happy lover who had gained possession 
 of his lady's heart, he was satisfied ; and without teas- 
 ing her with unnecessary reproaches, he only waited for 
 an opportunity to confound her, before he took his 
 measures. 
 
 After all, how can we account for I^ady Chesterfield's 
 conduct, unless we attribute it to the disease incident to 
 most coquettes, who, charmed with superiority, put in 
 practice every art to rob another of her conquest, and 
 spare nothing to preserve it. ^ 
 
 But before we enter into the particulars of this adven- 
 ture, let us take a retrospect of the amours of his Royal 
 Highness, prior to the declaration of his marriage, and 
 particularly of what immediately preceded this declara- 
 tion. It is allowable sometimes to drop the thread of a 
 narrative, when real facts, not generally known, give 
 such a variety upon the digression as to render it ex- 
 cusable : let us see then how those things happened. 
 
 The Duke of York's marriage, * with the chancellor's 
 daughter, was deficient in none of those circumstances 
 which render contracts of this nature valid in the eye of 
 heaven : the mutual inclination, the formal ceremony, 
 witnesses, and every essential point of matrimony, had 
 been observed. 
 
 Though the bride was no perfect beauty, yet, as there 
 were none at the court of Holland who eclipsed her, the 
 duke, during the first endearments of matrimony, was 
 so far from repenting of it, that he seemed only to wish 
 for the king's restoration that he might have an oppor- 
 tunity of declaring it with splendor ; but when he saw 
 himself enjoying a rank which placed him so near the 
 throne ; when the possession of Miss Hyde afforded him 
 
 * The material facts in this narrative are confirmed by Lord Claren- 
 don. — Continuation, of his Life, p. 33. It is difi&cult to speak of the 
 persons concerned in this infamous transaction without some degree of 
 asperity, notwithstanding they are, by a strange perversion of language, 
 styled, all men of honor. 
 
186 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 no new charms ; when England, so abounding in beau- 
 ties, displayed all that was charming and lovely in the 
 court of the king, his brother ; and when he considered 
 he was the only prince, who, from such superior eleva- 
 tion, had descended so low, he began to reflect upon it. 
 On the one hand, his marriage appeared to him particu- 
 larly ill suited in every respect : he recollected that Jer- 
 myn had not engaged him in an intimacy with Miss 
 Hyde, until he had convinced him, by several diiferent 
 circumstances, of the facility of succeeding : he looked 
 upon his marriage as an infringement of that duty and 
 obedience he owed to the king; the indignation with 
 which the court, and even the whole kingdom, would 
 receive the account of his marriage presented itself to his 
 imagination, together with the impossibility of obtaining 
 the king's consent to such an act, which for a thousand 
 reasons he would be obliged to refuse. On the other 
 hand, the tears and despair of poor Miss Hyde presented 
 themselves ; and still more than that, he felt a remorse 
 of conscience, the scruples of which began from that 
 time to rise up against him. 
 
 In the midst of this perplexity he opened his heart to 
 Lord Falmouth, and consulted with him what method 
 he ought to pursue: he could not have applied to a better 
 man for his own interests, nor to a worse for Miss Hyde's; 
 for at first, Falmouth maintained not only that he was not 
 married, but that it was even impossible that he could 
 ever have formed such a thought; that any marriage was 
 invalid for him, which was made without the king's con- 
 sent, even if the party was a suitable match : but that it 
 was a mere jest, even to think of the daughter of an insig- 
 nificant lawyer, whom the favor of his sovereign had 
 lately made a peer of the realm, without any noble 
 blood, and chancellor, without any capacity ; that as for 
 his scruples, he had only to give ear to some gentlemen 
 whom he could introduce, who would thoroughly inform 
 him of Miss Hyde's conduct before he became acquainted 
 
MEMOIRS OE COUNT GRAMMONT. 187 
 
 with her; and provided he did not' tell them that he really 
 was married, he would soon have sufficient grounds to 
 come to a determination. 
 
 The Duke of York consented, and Lord Falmouth, 
 having assembled both his council and his witnesses, 
 conducted them to his Royal Highness' s cabinet, after' 
 having instructed them how to act: these gentlemen 
 were the Earl of Arran, Jermyn, Talbot, and Killegrew, 
 all men of honor ; but who infinitely preferred the 
 Duke of York's interest to Miss Hyde's reputation, and 
 who, besides, were greatly dissatisfied, as well as 
 the whole court, at the insolent authority of the prime 
 minister. 
 
 The duke having told them, after a sort of preamble, 
 that although they could not be ignorant of his affection 
 for Miss Hyde, yet they might be unacquainted with the 
 engagements his tenderness for her had induced him to 
 contract; that he thought himself obliged to perform all 
 the promises he had made her; but as the innocence of 
 persons of her age was generally exposed to court scandal, 
 and as certain reports, whether false or true, had been 
 spread abroad on the subject of her conduct, he con- 
 jured them as his friends, and charged them upon their 
 duty, to tell him sincerely everything they knew upon 
 the subject, since he was resolved to make their evidence 
 the rule of his conduct towards her. They all appeared 
 rather reserved at first, and seemed not to dare to give 
 their opinions upon an affair of so serious and delicate a 
 nature ; but the Duke of York having renewed his en- 
 treaties, each began to relate the particulars of what he 
 knew, and perhaps of more than he knew, of poor Miss 
 Hyde ; nor did they omit any circumstance necessary to 
 strengthen the evidence. For instance the Earl of Arran, 
 who spoke first, deposed, that in the gallery at Honslaer- 
 dyk, where the Countess of Ossory, his sister-in-law, and 
 Jermyn, were playing at nine-pins, Miss Hyde, pretend- 
 ing to be sick, retired to a chamber at the end of 
 
188 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 the gallery ; that he, the deponent, had followed her, 
 and having cut her lace, to give a greater probability to 
 the pretence of the vapors, he had acquitted himself to 
 the best of his abilities, both to assist and to console 
 her. 
 
 Talbot said, that she had made an appointment with 
 him in the chancellor's cabinet, while he was in council; 
 and, that, not paying so much attention to what was 
 upon the table as to what they were engaged in, they 
 had spilled a bottle full of ink upon a despatch of four 
 pages, and that the king's monkey, which was blamed 
 for this accident, had been a long time in disgrace. 
 
 Jermyn mentioned many places where he had received 
 long and favorable audiences: however, all these articles 
 of accusation amounted only to some delicate familiari- 
 ties, or at most, to what is generally denominated the 
 innocent part of an intrigue; but Killegrew, who wished 
 to surpass these trivial depositions, boldly declared that 
 he had had the honor of being upon the most intimate 
 terms with her: he was of a sprightly and witty humor, 
 and had the art of telling a story in the most entertain- 
 ing manner, by the graceful and natural turn he could 
 give it: he affirmed that he had found the critical minute 
 in a certain closet built over the water, for a purpose 
 very different from that of giving ease to the pains of 
 love: that three or four swans had been witnesses to his 
 happiness, and might perhaps have been witnesses 
 to the happiness of many others, as the lady frequently 
 repaired to that place, and was particularly delighted 
 with it. 
 
 The Duke of York found this last accusation greatly 
 out of bounds, being convinced he himself had sufficient 
 proofs of the contrary : he therefore returned thanks to 
 these officious informers for their frankness, ordered 
 them to be silent for the future upon what they had been 
 telling him, and immediately passed into the king's 
 apartment. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 189 
 
 As soon as he had entered the cabinet, L,ord Falmouth, 
 who had followed him, related what had passed to the 
 Earl of Ossory, whom he met in the presence chamber : 
 they strongly suspected what was the subject of the 
 conversation of the two brothers, as it was long; and the 
 Duke of York appeared to be in such agitation when he 
 came out, that they no longer doubted that the result 
 had been unfavorable for poor Miss Hyde. lyord Fal- 
 mouth began to be affected for her disgrace, and to 
 relent that he had been concerned in it, when the Duke 
 of York told him and the Earl of Ossory to meet him in 
 about an hour's time at the chancellor's. 
 
 They were rather surprised that he should have the 
 cruelty himself to announce such a melancholy piece of 
 news : they found his Royal Highness at the appointed 
 hour in Miss Hyde's chamber: a few tears trickled down 
 her cheeks, which she endeavored to restrain. The 
 chancellor, leaning against the wall, appeared to them to 
 be puflFed up with something, which they did not doubt 
 was rage and despair. The Duke of York said to them, 
 with that serene and pleasant countenance with which 
 men generally announce good news: "As you are the 
 two men of the court whom I most esteem, I am desirous 
 you should first have the honor of paying your com- 
 pliments to the Duchess of York: there she is." 
 
 Surprise was of no use, and astonishment was unsea- 
 sonable on the present occasion : they were, however, so 
 greatly possessed with both surprise and astonishment, 
 that in order to conceal it, they immediately fell on their 
 knees to kiss her hand, which she gave to them with as 
 much majesty as if she had been used to it all her life. 
 
 The next day the news was made public, and the 
 whole court was eager to pay her that respect, from a 
 sense of duty, which in the end became very sincere. 
 
 The petits-maitres who had spoken against her, seeing 
 their intentions disappointed, were not a little embar- 
 rassed. Women are seldom accustomed to forgive 
 
190 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 injuries of this nature ; and, if they promise themselves 
 the pleasure of revenge, when they gain the power, they 
 seldom forget it : in the present case, however, the fears 
 of these petits-maitres were their only punishment. 
 
 The Duchess of York, being fully informed of all that 
 was said in the cabinet concerning her, instead of show- 
 ing the least resentment, studied to distinguish, by all 
 manner of kindness and good offices, those who had at- 
 tacked her in so sensible a part ; nor did she ever 
 mention it to them but in order to praise their zeal, and 
 to tell them "that nothing was a greater proof of the 
 attachment of a man of honor, than his being more solic- 
 itous for the interest of his friend or master, than for his 
 own reputation: " a remarkable example of prudence and 
 moderation, not only for the fair sex, but even for those 
 who value themselves most upon their philosophy among 
 the men. 
 
 The Duke of York, having quieted his conscience by 
 the declaration of his marriage, thought that he was en- 
 titled, by this generous effort, to give way a little to his 
 inconstancy: he therefore immediately seized upon what- 
 ever he could first lay his hands upon : this was I/ady 
 Carnegy,* who had been in several other hands. She 
 was still tolerably handsome, and her disposition, natu- 
 rally inclined to tenderness, did not oblige her new lover 
 long to languish. Everything coincided with their 
 wishes for some time : Lord Carnegy, her husband, was 
 in Scotland ; but his father dying suddenly, he as sud- 
 denly returned with the title of Southesk, which his 
 wife detested ; but which she took more patiently than 
 she received the news of his return. Some private inti- 
 mation had been given him of the honor that was done 
 him in his absence : nevertheless, he did not show his 
 jealousy at first ; but, as he was desirous to be satisfied 
 
 * Anne, daughter of William, Duke of Hamilton, and wife of Robert 
 Carnegy, Earl of Southesk, 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 191 
 
 of the reality of the fact, he kept a strict watch over his 
 wife's actions. The Duke of York and her ladyship had 
 for some time been upon such terms of intimacy as not 
 to pass their time in frivolous amusements; however, the 
 husband's return obliged them to maintain some de- 
 corum: he therefore never went to her house, but in form, 
 that is to say, always accompanied by some friend or other, 
 to give his amours at least the appearance of a visit. 
 
 About this time Talbot * returned from Portugal : this 
 connection had taken place during his absence; and with- 
 out knowing who Lady Southesk was, he had been in- 
 formed that his master was in love with her. 
 
 A few days after his arrival, he was carried, merely to 
 keep up appearances, to her house by the duke ; and after 
 being introduced, and some compliments having been 
 paid on both sides, he thought it his duty to give his 
 Royal Highness an opportunity to pay his compliments, 
 and accordingly retired into the ante-chamber, which 
 looked into the street, and placed himself at the window 
 to view the people as they passed. 
 
 He was one of the best meaning men in the world on 
 such occasions ; but was so subject to forgetfulness, and 
 absence of mind, that he once forgot, and left behind 
 him at London a complimentary letter which the duke 
 had given him for the Infanta of Portugal, and never 
 recollected it till he was going to his audience. 
 
 He stood sentry, as we have before said, very attentive 
 to his instructions, when he saw a coach stop at the door, 
 without being in the least concerned at it, and still less, 
 at a man whom he saw get out of it, and whom he imme- 
 diately heard coming up-stairs. 
 
 The devil, who ought to be civil upon such occasions, 
 forgot himself in the present instance, and brought up 
 Lord Southesk in proprid persond: his Royal Highness' s 
 equipage had been sent home, because my lady had as- 
 
 * Afterwards Duke of Tyrconnel. 
 
192 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 sured him that her husband was gone to see a bear and 
 a bull baiting, an entertainment in which he took great 
 delight, and from whence he seldom returned until it 
 was very late; so that Southesk, not seeing any equipage 
 at the door, little imagined that he had such good com- 
 pany in his house ; but if he was surprised to see Talbot 
 carelessly lolling in his wife's ante-chamber, his surprise 
 was soon over. Talbot, who had not seen him since 
 they were in Flanders, and never supposing that he had 
 changed his name: "Welcome, Carnegy, welcome, my 
 good fellow," said he, giving him his hand ; "where 
 the devil have you been, that I have never been able to 
 set eyes on you since we were at Brussels ? What busi- 
 ness brought you here ? Do you likewise wish to see 
 I/ady Southesk? If this is your intention, my poor 
 friend, you may go away again ; for I must inform you, 
 the Duke of York is in love with her, and I will tell 
 you in confidence, that, at this very time, he is in her 
 chamber. ' ' 
 
 Southesk, confounded as one may suppose, had no 
 time to answer all these fine questions : Talbot, there- 
 fore, attended him down-stairs as his friend ; and, as his 
 humble servant, advised him to seek for a mistress else- 
 where. Southesk, not knowing what else to do at that 
 time, returned to his coach ; and Talbot, overjoyed at 
 the adventure, impatiently waited for the duke's return, 
 that he might acquaint him with it ; but he was very 
 much surprised to find that the story afforded no pleas- 
 ure to those who had the principal share in it ; and his 
 greatest concern was, that Carnegy had changed his 
 name, as if only to draw him into such a confidence. 
 
 This accident broke off a commerce which the Duke 
 of York did not much regret ; and indeed it was happy 
 for him that he became indifferent ; for the traitor 
 Southesk meditated a revenge,* whereby, without using 
 
 * Bishop Burnet, taking notice of the Duke of York's amours, says : 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 193 
 
 either assassination or poison, lie would have obtained 
 some satisfaction upon those who had injured him, if the 
 connection had continued any longer. 
 
 He went to the most infamous places, to seek for the 
 most infamous disease, which he met with ; but his re- 
 venge was only half completed ; for after he had gone 
 through every remedy to get quit of his disease, his 
 lady did but return him his present, having no more 
 connection with the person for whom it was so indus- 
 triously prepared. 
 
 Lady Robarts * was then in the zenith of her glory ; 
 
 "A story was set about, and generally believed, that the Earl of South- 
 esk, that had married a daughter of the Duke of Hamilton, suspecting 
 some familiarities between the duke and his wife, had taken a sure 
 method to procure a disease to himself, which he communicated to his 
 wife, and was, by that means, sent round till it came to the duchess. 
 Lord Southesk was, for some years, not ill pleased to have this believed. 
 It looked like a peculiar strain of revenge, with which he seemed 
 much deUghted. But I know he has, to some of his friends, denied the 
 whole of the story very solemnly." — History of his Own Times, vol. 
 ^•1 P- 319- K is worthy of notice that the passage in the text was 
 omitted in most editions of Grammont, and retained in that of Straw- 
 berry-hill, in 1772. 
 
 * Lord Orford says this lady was Sarah, daughter of John Bodville 
 of Bodville castle, in Caernarvonshire, wife of Robert Robarts, who 
 died in the lifetime of his father, and was eldest son of John, Earl of 
 Radnor. This, however, may be doubted. There was no Earl of Rad- 
 nor until the year 1679, which was after the date of most, if not all, 
 the transactions related in this work ; consequently, no other person, 
 who could be called Lord Robarts, than John, the second lord, who 
 was created Earl of Radnor, with whose character several of the quali- 
 ties here enumerated, particularly his age, moroseness, etc., will be 
 found to agree. Supposing this to be admitted, the lady will be Isa- 
 bella, daughter of Sir John Smith Knight, second wife of the above 
 John, Lord Robarts, whose character is thus portrayed by Lord Clar- 
 endon : " Though of good understanding, he was of so morose a nature, 
 that it was no easy matter to treat with him. He had some pedantic 
 parts of learning, which made his other parts of judgment the worst. 
 He was naturally proud and imperious, which humor was increased by 
 an ill education ; for, excepting some years spent in the Inns of Court, 
 he might very justly be said to have been born and bred in Cornwall. 
 When lord-deputy in Ireland, he received the information of the chief 
 13 
 
194 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 her beauty was striking; yet, notwithstanding the bright- 
 ness of the finest complexion, with all the bloom of 
 youth, and with every requisite for inspiring desire, she 
 nevertheless was not attractive. The Duke of York, 
 however, would probably have been successful if diffi- 
 culties, almost insurmountable, had not disappointed his 
 good intentions : Lord Robarts, her husband, was an old, 
 snarling, troublesome, peevish fellow, in love with her 
 to distraction, and to complete her misery, a perpetual 
 attendant on her person. 
 
 She perceived his Royal Highness' s attachment to her, 
 and seemed as if she was inclined to be grateful : this 
 redoubled his eagerness, and every outward mark of 
 tenderness he could possibly show her ; but the watchful 
 husband redoubling his zeal and assiduity, as he found 
 the approaches advance, every art was practised to ren- 
 der him tractable : several attacks were made upon his 
 avarice and his ambition. Those who possessed the 
 greatest share of his confidence, insinuated to him that it 
 was his own fault if Lady Robarts, who was so worthy of 
 being at court, was not received into some considerable 
 post, either about the queen or the duchess : he was 
 offered to be made Lord Lieutenant of the county where 
 his estate was ; or to have the management of the Duke 
 of York's revenues in Ireland, of which he should have 
 the entire disposal, provided he immediately set out to 
 take possession of his charge ; and having accomplished 
 it, he might return as soon as ever he thought proper. 
 
 persons there so negligently, and gave Us answers so scornfully, that 
 they besought the king that they might not be obliged to attend him 
 any more : but he was not a man that was to be disgraced and thrown 
 oif without much inconvenience and hazard. He had parts, which in 
 council and parliament, were very troublesome ; for, of all men alive, 
 who had so few friends, he had the most followers. They who con- 
 versed most with him knew him to have many humors which were 
 very intolerable ; they who were but little acquainted with him took 
 him to be a man of much knowledge, and called his morosity gravity." 
 — Continuation of Clarendon, p. 102. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 195 
 
 He perfectly well understood the meaning of these 
 proposals, and was fully, apprised of the advantages he 
 might reap from them : in vain did ambition and avarice 
 hold out their allurements ; he was deaf to all their 
 temptations, nor could ever the old fellow be persuaded 
 to be made a cuckold. It is not always an aversion to, 
 or a dread of this distinction, which preserves us from it: 
 of this her husband was very sensible ; therefore, under 
 the pretence of a pilgrimage to Saint Winifred, the vir- 
 gin and martyr, who was said to cure women of barren- 
 ness, he did not rest, until the highest mountains in 
 Wales were between his wife and the person who had 
 designed to perform this miracle in London, after his 
 departure. 
 
 The duke was for some time entirely taken up with 
 the pleasures of the chase, and only now and then en- 
 gaged in those of love ; but his taste having undergone 
 a change in this particular, and the remembrance of Lady 
 Robarts wearing off by degrees, his eyes and wishes were 
 turned towards Miss Brook ; and it was in the height of 
 this pursuit that Lady Chesterfield threw herself into his 
 arms, as we shall see by resuming the sequel of her ad- 
 ventures. 
 
 The Earl of Bristol, * ever restless and ambitious, had 
 
 * George Digby. The account here given of the practices of this 
 nobleman receives confirmation from Lord Clarendon, who observes 
 of him, "that he had left no way unattempted to render himself 
 gracious to the king, by saying and doing all that might be acceptable 
 unto him, and contriving such meetings and jollities as he was pleased 
 with." — Continuation of his Life, p. 208. Lord Orford says of him, 
 that "his life was one contradiction. He wrote against popery, and 
 embraced it ; he was a zealous opposer of the court, and a sacrifice to 
 it ; was conscientiously converted in the midst of his prosecution of 
 Lord Strafibrd, and was most unconscientiously a prosecutor of Lord 
 Clarendon. With great parts, he always hurt himself an-d his friends ; 
 with romantic bravery, he was always an unsuccessful commander. 
 He spoke for the Test Act, though a Roman Catholic, and addicted 
 himself to astrology on the birthday of true philosophy." — Catalogue 
 of Royal and Noble Authors, vol. ii., p. 25. The histories of England 
 
196 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 put in practice every art to possess himself of the king' s 
 favor. As this is the same Digby whom Count Bussy 
 mentions in his annals, it will be sufficient to say that he 
 was not at all changed : he knew that love and pleasure 
 had possession of a master, whom he himself governed, 
 in defiance of the chancellor ; thus he was continually 
 giving entertainments at his house ; and luxury and 
 elegance seemed to rival each other in those nocturnal 
 feasts, which always lead to other enjoyments. The two 
 Miss Brooks, his relations, were always of those parties ; 
 they were both formed by nature to excite love in others, 
 as well as to be susceptible of it themselves ; they were 
 just what the king wanted : the earl, from this com- 
 mencement, was beginning to entertain a good opinion 
 of his project, when Lady Castlemaine, who had lately 
 gained entire possession of the king's heart, was not in a 
 humor, at that time, to share it with another, as she did 
 very indiscreetly afterwards, despising Miss Stewart. 
 As soon, therefore, as she received intimation of these 
 secret practices, under pretence of attending the king in 
 his parties, she entirely disconcerted them ; so that the 
 earl was obliged to lay aside his projects, and Miss 
 Brook to discontinue her advances. The king did not 
 «;ven dare to think any more on this subject ; but his 
 brother was pleased to look after what he neglected; and 
 Miss Brook accepted the offer of his heart, until it pleased 
 heaven to dispose of her otherwise, which happened soon 
 after in the following manner. 
 
 Sir John Denham,* loaded with wealth a^ well as 
 
 abound witli the adventures of this inconsistent nobleman, who died, 
 neither loved nor regretted by any party, in the year 1676. 
 
 * That Sir John Denham " had passed his youth in the midst of those 
 pleasures which people at that age indulge in without restraint," all 
 his biographers seem to admit ; but, if our avithor is to be relied on, 
 Wood's account of the date of his birth, 1615, must be erroneous. He 
 was not loaded with years when he died, if that statement is true ; and 
 so far from being seventy-nine when he married Miss Brook, he had 
 not attained the age of more than fifty-three when he died, In this 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 197 
 
 years, had passed his youth in the midst of those pleas- 
 ures which people at that age indulge in without re- 
 straint ; he was one of the brightest geniuses England 
 ever produced, for wit and humor, and for brilliancy of 
 composition : satirical and free in his poems, he spared 
 neither frigid writers, nor jealous husbands, nor even 
 their wives: every part abounded with the most poignant 
 wit, and the most entertaining stories ; but his most 
 delicate and spirited raillery turned generally against 
 matrimony ; and, as if he wished to confirm, by his own 
 example, the truth of what he had written in his youth, 
 he married, at the age of seventy-nine, this Miss Brook 
 of whom we are speaking, who was only eighteen. 
 
 The Duke of York had rather neglected her for some 
 time before ; but the circumstance of so unequal a match 
 rekindled his ardor ; and she, on her part, suffered him 
 to entertain hopes of an approaching bliss, which a 
 thousand considerations had opposed before her mar- 
 riage : she wished to belong to the court ; and for the 
 promise of being made lady of the bedchamber to the 
 duchess, she was upon the point of making him another 
 promise, or of immediately performing it, if required, 
 when, in the middle of this treaty, I,ady Chesterfield was 
 tempted, by her evil genius, to rob her of her conquest, 
 in order to disturb all the world. 
 
 However, as Lady Chesterfield could not see the Duke 
 of York, except in public assemblies, she was under the 
 necessity of making the most extravagant advances, in 
 order to seduce him from his former connection ; and as 
 he was the most unguarded ogler of his time, the whole 
 court was informed of the intrigue before it was well 
 begun. 
 
 particular, I am inclmed to doubt the accuracy of Wood, who omits 
 to mention that Sir John had a former wife, by whom he had a daugh- 
 ter. Sir John died 19th March, 1668, and vas buried in Westminster' 
 abbey. 
 
198 MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Those who appeared the most attentive to their con- 
 duct were not the least interested in it. Hamilton and 
 Lord Chesterfield watched them narrowly ; but Lady 
 Denham, vexed that Lady Chesterfield should have 
 stepped in before her, took the liberty of railing against 
 her rival with the greatest bitterness. Hamilton had 
 hitherto flattered himself that vanity alone had engaged 
 Lady Chesterfield in this adventure ; but he was soon 
 undeceived, whatever her indifference might have been 
 when she first commenced this intrigue. We often pro- 
 ceed farther than we at first intended, when we indulge 
 ourselves in trifling liberties which we think of no con- 
 sequence ; for though perhaps the heart takes no pari 
 at the beginning, it seldom fails to be engaged in the end. 
 
 The court, as we have mentioned before, was an entire 
 scene of gallantry and amusements, with all the polite- 
 ness and magnificence which the inclinations of a prince 
 naturally addicted to tenderness and pleasure could sug- 
 gest : the beauties were desirous of charming, and the 
 men endeavored to please : all studied to set themselves 
 off to the best advantage : some distinguished themselves 
 by dancing ; others by show and magnificence ; some 
 by their wit, many by their amours, but few by their 
 constancy. There was a certain Italian at court, famous 
 for the guitar : he had a genius for music, and he was 
 the only man who could make anything of the guitar : 
 his style of play was so full of grace and tenderness, that 
 he would have given harmony to the most discordant 
 instruments. The truth is, nothing was so difl&cult as 
 to play like this foreigner. The king's relish for his 
 compositions had brought the instrument so much into 
 vogue, that every person played upon it, well or ill ; and 
 you were as sure to see a guitar on a lady's toilet as rouge 
 or patches. The Duke of York played upon it tolerably 
 well, and the Earl of Arran like Francisco himself. 
 This Francisco had composed a saraband, which either 
 charmed or infatuated every person ; for the whole 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 199 
 
 guitarery at court were trying at it ; and God knows 
 what an universal strumming there was. The Duke of 
 York, pretending not to be perfect in it, desired Ivord 
 Arran to play it to him. Lady Chesterfield had the best 
 guitar in England. The Earl of Arran, who was de- 
 sirous of playing his best, conducted his Royal Highness 
 to his sister's apartments : she was lodged at court, at 
 her father's, the Duke of Ormond's ; and this wonderful 
 guitar was lodged there too. Whether this visit had 
 been preconcerted or not, I do not pretend to say ; but 
 it is certain that they found both the lady and the guitar 
 at home : they likewise found there Lord Chesterfield, 
 so much surprised at this unexpected visit, that it was a 
 considerable time before he thought of rising from his 
 seat to receive them with due respect. 
 
 Jealousy, like a malignant vapor, now seized upon his 
 brain : a thousand suspicions, blacker than ink, took 
 possession of his imagination, and were continually in- 
 creasing ; for, whilst the brother played upon the guitar 
 to the duke, the sister ogled and accompanied him with 
 her eyes, as if the coast had been clear, and no enemy to 
 observe them. This saraband was at least repeated 
 twenty times : the duke declared it was played to per- 
 fection : Lady Chesterfield found fault with the compo- 
 sition ; but her husband, who clearly perceived that he 
 was the person played upon, thought it a most detestable 
 piece. However, though he was in the last agony at 
 being obliged to curb his passion while others gave a free 
 scope to theirs, he was resolved to find out the drift of the 
 visit ; but it was not in his power : for, having the honor 
 to be chamberlain to the queen, a messenger came to re- 
 quire his immediate attendance on Her Majesty. His 
 first thought was to pretend sickness : the second to sus- 
 pect that the queen, who sent for him at such an un- 
 seasonable time, was in the plot ; but at last, after all the 
 extravagant ideas of a suspicious man, and all the irreso- 
 lutions of a jealous husband, he was obliged to go. 
 
200 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 We may easily imagine what his state of mind was 
 when he arrived at the palace. Alarms are to the jealous 
 what disasters are to the unfortunate : they seldom come 
 alone, but form a series of persecution. He was informed 
 that he was sent for to attend the queen at an audience 
 she gave to seven or eight Muscovite ambassadors: he had 
 scarce begun to curse the Muscovites, when his brother- 
 in-law appeared, and drew upon himself all the impre- 
 cations he bestowed upon the embassy: he no longer 
 doubted his being in the plot with the two persons he 
 had left together, and in his heart sincerely wished him 
 such recompense for his good offices as such good offices 
 deserved. It was with great difficulty that he restrained 
 himself from immediately acquainting him what was 
 his opinion of such conduct : he thought that what he 
 had already seen was a sufficient proof of his wife's infi- 
 delity ; but before the end of the very same day, some 
 circumstances occurred which increased his suspicions, 
 and persuaded him that they had taken advantage of his 
 absence, and of the honorable officiousness of his brother- 
 in-law. He passed, however, that night with tranquil- 
 lity ; but the next morning, being reduced to the neces- 
 sity either of bursting or giving vent to his sorrows and 
 conjectures, he did nothing but think and walk about 
 the room until Park-time. He went to court, seemed 
 very busy, as if seeking for some person or other, imag- 
 ining that people guessed at the subject of his uneasi- 
 ness : he avoided everybody, but at length meeting with 
 Hamilton, he thought he was the very man that he 
 wanted ; and, having desired him to take an airing with 
 him in Hyde Park, he took him up in his coach, and 
 they arrived at the Ring, without a word having passed 
 between them. 
 
 Hamilton, who saw him as yellow as jealousy itself, 
 and particularly thoughtful, imagined that he had just 
 discovered what all the world had perceived long before ; 
 when Chesterfield, after a broken, insignificant preamble, 
 
MEMOIRS OP COtTNT GRAMMONT. 201 
 
 asked him how he succeeded with I^ady Castlemaine. 
 Hamilton, who very well saw that he meant nothing by 
 this question, nevertheless thanked him ; and as he was 
 thinking of an answer: "Your cousin," said the earl, 
 "is extremely coquettish, and I have some reason to 
 suppose she is not so prudent as she ought to be. ' ' Ham- 
 ilton thought the last charge a little too severe ; and as 
 he was endeavoring to refute it : "Good God ! " said my 
 lord, "you see, as well as the whole court, what airs she 
 gives herself : husbands are always the last people that 
 are spoken to about those affairs that concern them the 
 most ; but they are not always the last to perceive it 
 themselves : though you have made me your confidant 
 in other matters, yet I am not at all surprised you have 
 concealed this from me ; but as I flatter myself with hav- 
 ing some share in your esteem, I should be sorry you 
 should think me such a fool as to be incapable of seeing, 
 though I am so complaisant as not to express my senti- 
 ments : nevertheless, I find that affairs are now carried 
 on with such barefaced boldness, that at length I find I 
 shall be forced to take some course or other. God for- 
 bid that I should act the ridiculous part of a jealous hus- 
 band : the character is odious ; but then I do not intend, 
 through an excess of patience, to be made the jest of the 
 town. Judge, therefore, from what I am going to tell 
 you, whether I ought to sit down unconcerned, or 
 whether I ought to take measures for the preservation 
 of my honor. 
 
 ' ' His Royal Highness honored me yesterday by a visit 
 to my wife." Hamilton started at this beginning. 
 "Yes," continued the other, "he did give himself that 
 trouble, and Lord Arran took upon himself that of 
 bringing him: do not you wonder that a man of his birth 
 should act such a part ? What advancement can he ex- 
 pect from one who employs him in such base services ? 
 But we have long known him to be one of the silliest 
 creatures in England, with his guitar, and his other 
 
202 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 whims and follies." Chesterfield, after this short sketch 
 of his brother-in-la.w's merit, began to relate the obser- 
 vations he had made during the visit, and asked Hamil- 
 ton what he thought of his cousin Arran, who had so 
 obligingly left them together. " This may appear sur- 
 prising to you," continued he, " but hear me out, and 
 judge whether I have reason to think that the close of 
 this pretty visit passed in perfect innocence. Lady 
 Chesterfield is amiable, it must be acknowledged ; but 
 she is far from being such a miracle of beauty as she 
 supposes herself : you know she has ugly feet ; but per- 
 haps you are not acquainted that she has still worse legs. ' ' 
 " Pardon me," said Hamilton, within himself: and the 
 other, continuing the description : "her legs," said his 
 lordship, " are short and thick; and, to remedy these de- 
 fects as much as possible, she seldom wears any other 
 than green stockings. ' ' 
 
 Hamilton could not for his life imagine the drift of all 
 this discourse, and Chesterfield, guessing his thoughts : 
 " Have a little patience," said he ; "I went yesterday to 
 Miss Stewart's, after the audience of those d — d Musco- 
 vites: the king arrived there just before me; and as if the 
 duke had sworn to pursue me wherever I went that day, 
 he came in just after me. The conversation turned upon 
 the extraordinary appearance of the ambassadors. I 
 know not where that fool Crofts had heard that all these 
 Muscovites had handsome wives; and that all their wives 
 had handsome legs. Upon this the king maintained 
 that no woman ever had such handsome legs as Miss 
 Stewart; and she to prove the truth of His Majesty's as- 
 sertion, with the greatest imaginable ease, immediately 
 showed her leg above the knee. Some were ready to 
 prostrate themselves, in order to adore its beauty ; for 
 indeed none can be handsomer; but the duke alone began 
 to criticise upon it. He contended that it was too slen- 
 der, and that as for himself, he would give nothing for a 
 leg that was not thicker and shorter, and concluded by 
 
MEMOIRS Oif COUNT GRAMMONT, 203 
 
 saying that no leg -Was worth anything without green 
 stockings. Now this, in my opinion, was a sufficient 
 demonstration that he had just seen green stockings, and 
 had them fresh in his remembrance. ' ' 
 
 Hamilton was at a loss what countenance to put on 
 during a narrative which raised in him nearly the same 
 conjectures ; he shrugged up his shoulders, and faintly 
 said that appearances were often deceitful ; that Lady 
 Chesterfield had the foible of all beauties, who place their 
 merit on the number of their admirers ; and whatever airs 
 she might imprudently have given herself, in order not 
 to discourage his Royal Highness, there was no ground to 
 suppose that she would indulge him in any greater lib- 
 erties to engage him : but in vain was it that he endeav- 
 ored to give that consolation to his friend which he did 
 not feel himself. Chesterfield plainly perceived that he 
 did not think of what he was saying; however, he thought 
 himself much obliged to him for the interest he seemed 
 to take in his concerns. 
 
 Hamilton was in haste to go home to vent his spleen 
 and resentment in a letter to his cousin. The style of 
 this billet was very different from those which he for- 
 merly was accustomed to write to her : reproaches, bitter 
 expostulations, tenderness, menaces, and all the effusions 
 of a lover who thinks he has reason to complain, com- 
 posed this epistle ; which, for fear of accidents, he went 
 to deliver himself. 
 
 Never did she before appear so lovely, and never did 
 her eyes speak so kindly to him as at this moment : his 
 heart quite relented ; but he was determined not to lose 
 all the fine things he had said in his letter. In receiving 
 it, she squeezed his hand : this action completely dis- 
 armed him, and he would have given his life to have 
 had this letter again. It appeared to him at this instant 
 that all the grievances he complained of were visionary 
 and groundless : he looked upon her husband as a mad- 
 man and an impostor, and quite the reverse of what he 
 
204 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 supposed him to be a few minutes before ; but this re- 
 morse came a little too late : he had delivered his billet, 
 and Ivady Chesterfield had shown such impatience and 
 eagerness to read it as soon as she had got it that all 
 circumstances seemed to conspire to justify her, and to 
 confound him. She managed to get quit, some way or 
 other, of some troublesome visitors, to slip into her 
 closet. He thought himself so culpable that he had not 
 the assurance to wait her return : he withdrew with the 
 rest of the company ; but he did not dare to appear 
 before her the next day, to have an answer to his letter : 
 however, he met her at court ; and this was the first 
 time, since the commencement of their amour, that he 
 did not seek for her. He stood at a distance, with down- 
 cast looks, and appeared in such terribe embarrassment 
 that his condition was sufficient to raise laughter or to 
 cause pity, when Lady Chesterfield approaching, thus 
 accosted him : ' ' Confess, ' ' said she, ' ' that you are in 
 as foolish a situation as any man of sense can be : you 
 wish you had not written to me : you ^re desirous of an 
 answer : you hope for none : yet you equally wish for 
 and dread it : I have, however, written you one. ' ' She 
 had not time to say more ; but the few words she had 
 spoken were accompanied with such an air, and such a 
 look, as to make him beliSve that it was Venus with all 
 her graces who had addressed him. He was near her 
 when she sat down to cards, and as he was puzzling 
 himself to devise by what means he should get this 
 answer, she desired him to lay her gloves and fan down 
 somewhere : he took them, and with them the billet in 
 question ; and as he had perceived nothing severe or 
 angry in the conversation he had with her, he hastened 
 to open her letter, and read as follows : 
 
 " Your transports are so ridiculous that it is doing 
 you a favor to attribute them to an excess of tenderness, 
 which turns your head : a man, without doubt, must 
 have a great inclination to be jealous, to entertain such 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 205 
 
 an idea of the person you mention. Good God ! what a 
 lover to have caused uneasiness to a man of genius, and 
 what a genius to have got the better of mine ! Are not 
 you ashamed to give any credit to the visions of a jealous 
 fellow who brought nothing else with him from Italy ? 
 Is it possible that the story of the green stockings, upon 
 which he has founded his suspicions, should have im- 
 posed upon you, accompanied as it is with such pitiful 
 circumstances ? Since he has made you his confidant, 
 why did not he boast of breaking in pieces my poor 
 harmless guitar? This exploit, perhaps, might have 
 convinced you more than all the rest : recollect yourself, 
 and if you are really in love with me, thank fortune for 
 a groundless jealousy, which diverts to another quarter 
 the attention he might pay to my attachment for the most 
 amiable and the most dangerous man of the court." 
 
 Hamilton was ready to weep for joy at these endear- 
 ing marks of kindness, of which he thought himself so 
 unworthy: he was not satisfied with kissing, in raptures, 
 every part of this billet; he also kissed several times her 
 gloves and her fan. Play being over, Lady Chesterfield 
 received them from his hands, and read in his eyes the 
 joy that her billet had raised in his heart. Nor was he 
 satisfied with expressing his raptures, only by looks : he 
 hastened home, and wrote to her at least four times as 
 much. How different was this letter from the other ! 
 Though perhaps not so well written ; for one does not 
 show so much wit in suing for pardon as in venting re- 
 proaches, and it seldom happens that the soft, languish- 
 ing style of a love-letter is so penetrating as that of 
 invective. 
 
 Be that as it may, his peace was made : their past 
 quarrel gave new life to their correspondence ; and I^ady 
 Chesterfield, to make him as easy as he had before been 
 distrustful, expressed on every occasion a feigned con- 
 tempt for his rival, and a sincere aversion for her hus- 
 band. 
 
206 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 So great was his confidence in her, that he consented 
 she should show in public some marks of attention to 
 the duke, in order to conceal as much as possible their 
 private intelligence. Thus, at this time nothing dis- 
 turbed his peace of mind, but his impatience of finding 
 a favorable opportunity for the completion of his desires: 
 he thought it was in her power to command it ; but she 
 excused herself on account of several difficulties which 
 she enumerated to him, and which she was desirous he 
 should remove by his industry and attentions. 
 
 This silenced his complaints ; but whilst he was en- 
 deavoring to surmount these obstacles, still wondering 
 how it was possible that two persons who were so well 
 disposed to each other, and who were agreed to make 
 each other happy, could not put their designs in exe- 
 cution, accident discovered an unexpected adventure, 
 which left him no room to doubt, either of the happi- 
 ness of his rival, or of the perfidy of his mistress. 
 
 Misfortunes often fall light when most feared; and fre- 
 quently prove heaviest when merited, and when least 
 suspected. Hamilton was in the middle of the most 
 tender and passionate letter he had ever written to Lady 
 Chesterfield, when her husband came to announce to 
 him the particulars of this last discovery : he came so 
 suddenly upon him, that he had only just time to con- 
 ceal his amorous epistle among his other papers. His 
 heart and mind were still so full of what he was writing 
 to his pousin, that her husband's complaints against 
 her, at first, were scarce attended to ; besides, in his 
 opinion, he had come in the most unfortunate moment 
 on all acco.unts. 
 
 He was, however, obliged to listen to him, and he 
 soon entertained quite different sentiments : he appeared 
 almost petrified with astonishment, while the earl was 
 relating to him circumstances of such an extravagant in- 
 discretion, as seemed to him quite incredible, notwith- 
 standing the particulars of the fact. ' ' You have reason 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 207 
 
 tc be surprised at it," said my lord, concluding his story; 
 "but if you doubt tbe truth of what I tell you, it will 
 be easy for you to find evidence that will convince you ; 
 for the scene of their tender familiarities was no less pub- 
 lic than the room where the queen plays at cards, which, 
 while her majesty was at play, was, God knows, pretty 
 well crowded. Lady Denham was the first who dis- 
 covered what they thought would pass unperceived in 
 the crowd ; and you may very well judge how secret she 
 would keep such a circumstance. The truth is, she ad- 
 dressed herself to me first of all, as I entered the room, 
 to tell me that I should give my wife a little advice, as 
 other people might take notice of what I might see my- 
 self, if I pleased. 
 
 " Your cousin was at play, as I before told you : the 
 duke was sitting next to her : I know not what was be- 
 come of his hand ; but I am sure that no one could see 
 his arm below the elbow : I was standing behind them, 
 just in the place that I,ady Denham had quitted : the 
 duke turning round perceived me, and was so much dis- 
 turbed at my presence, that he almost undressed my lady 
 in pulling away his hand. I know not whether they 
 perceived that they were discovered ; but of this I am 
 convinced, that I^ady Denham will take care that every- 
 body shall know it. I must confess to you, that my 
 embarrassment is so great, that I cannot find words 'to 
 express what I now feel : I should not hesitate one mo- 
 ment what course to take, if I might be allowed to show 
 my resentment against the person who has wronged me. 
 As for her, I could manage her well enough, if, un- 
 worthy as she is of any consideration, I had not still 
 some regard for an illustrious family, that would be dis- 
 tracted were I to resent such an injury as it deserves. 
 In this particular you are interested yourself : you are 
 my friend, and I make you my confidant in an affair of 
 the greatest imaginable delicacy : let us then consult to- 
 gether what is proper to be done in so perplexing and 
 disagreeable a situation. ' ' 
 
'208 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Hamilton, if possible, more astonislied, and more ecu- 
 founded than himself, was far from being in a proper 
 state to aflford him advice on the present occasion : he 
 listened to nothing but jealousy, and breathed nothing 
 but revenge; but these emotions being somewhat abated, 
 in hopes that there might be calumny, or at least exag- 
 geration in the charges against I^ady Chesterfield, he 
 desired her husband to suspend his resolutions, until he 
 was more fully informed of the fact; assuring him, how- 
 ever, that if he found the circumstances such as he had 
 related, he should regard and consult no other interest 
 than his. 
 
 Upon this they parted ; and Hamilton found, on the 
 first inquiry, that almost the whole court was informed 
 of the adventure, to which every one added something 
 in relating it. Vexation and resentment inflamed his 
 heart, and by degrees extinguished every remnant of his 
 former passion. 
 
 He might easily have seen her, and have made her 
 such reproaches as a man is generally inclined to do on 
 such occasions ; but he was too much enraged to enter 
 into any detail which might have led to an explanation: 
 he considered himself as the only person essentially in- 
 jured in this affair ; for he could never bring his mind 
 to think that the injuries of the husband could be placed 
 in competition with those of the lover. 
 
 He hastened to I^ord Chesterfield, in the transport of 
 his passion, and told him that he had heard enough to 
 induce him to give such advice, as he should follow him- 
 self in the same situation, and that if he wished to save 
 a woman so strongly prepossessed, and who perhaps had 
 not yet lost all her innocence, though she had totally 
 lost her reason, he ought not to delay one single instant, 
 but immediately to carry her into the country with the 
 greatest possible expedition, without allowing her the 
 least time to recover her surprise. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield readily agreed to follow this advice, 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 209 
 
 which he had already considered as the only counsel a 
 friend could give him ; but his lady, who did not suspect 
 he had made this last discovery of her conduct, thought 
 he was joking with her, when he told her to prepare for 
 going into the country in two days : she was the more 
 induced to think so as it was in the very middle of an 
 extremely severe winter ; but she soon perceived that he 
 was in earnest : she knew from the air and manner of 
 her husband that he thought he had sufHcient reason to 
 treat her in this imperious style ; and finding all her re- 
 lations serious and cold to her complaint, she had no 
 hope left in this universally abandoned situation but in 
 the tenderness of Hamilton. She imagined she should 
 hear from him the cause of her misfortunes, of which 
 she was still totally ignorant, and that his love would 
 invent some means or other to prevent a journey which 
 she flattered herself would be even more affecting to him 
 than to herself; but she was expecting pity from a 
 crocodile. 
 
 At last, when she saw the eve of her departure was 
 come, that every preparation was made for a long jour- 
 ney ; that she was receiving farewell visits in form, and 
 that still she heard nothing from Hamilton, both her 
 hopes and her patience forsook her in this wretched situ- 
 ation. A few tears perhaps might have afforded her some 
 relief, but she chose rather to deny herself that comfort, 
 than to give her husband so much satisfaction. Hamil- 
 ton's conduct on this occasion appeared to her unac- 
 countable ; and as he still never came near her, she found 
 means to convey to him the following billet. 
 
 "Is it possible that you should be one of those, who, 
 without vouchsafing to tell me for what crime I am 
 treated like a slave, suffer me to be dragged from so- 
 ciety? What means your silence and indolence in a 
 juncture wherein your tenderness ought most particu- 
 larly to appear, and actively exert itself? I am upon the 
 point of departing, and am ashamed to think that you 
 14 
 
210 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 are the cause of my looking upon it with horrof , as I 
 have reason to believe that you are less concerned at it 
 than any other person : do, at least, let me know to what 
 place I am to be dragged ; what is to be done with me 
 within a wilderness? and on what account you, like all 
 the rest of the world, appear changed in your behavior 
 towards a person whom all the world could not oblige 
 to change with regard to you, if your weakness or your 
 ingratitude did not render you unworthy of her tender- 
 ness. ' ' 
 
 This billet did but harden his heart, and make him 
 more proud of his vengeance : he swallowed down full 
 draughts of pleasure in beholding her reduced to despair, 
 being persuaded that her grief and regret for her de- 
 parture were on account of another person : he felt un- 
 common satisfaction in having a share in tormenting her, 
 and was particularly pleased with the scheme he had 
 contrived to separate her from a rival upon the very point 
 perhaps of being made happy. Thus fortified as he was 
 against his natural tenderness, with all the severity of 
 jealous resentment, he saw her depart with an indiffer- 
 ence which he did not even endeavor to conceal from 
 her : this unexpected treatment, joined to the complica- 
 tion of her other misfortunes, had almost in reality 
 plunged her into despair. 
 
 The court was filled with the story of this adventure ; 
 nobody was ignorant of the occasion of this sudden de- 
 parture, but very few approved of Lord Chesterfield's 
 conduct. In England they looked with astonishment 
 upon a man who could be so uncivil as to be jealous of 
 his wife ; and in the city of London it was a prodigy, till 
 that time unknown, to see a husband have recourse to 
 violent means, to prevent what jealousy fears, and what 
 it always deserves. They endeavored, however, to ex- 
 cuse poor Lord Chesterfield, as far as they could safely 
 do it, without incurring the public odium, by laying all 
 the blame on his bad education. This made all the 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 211 
 
 mothers vow to God that none of their sons should ever 
 set a foot in Italy, lest they should bring back with 
 them that infamous custom of laying restraint upon their 
 wives. 
 
 As this story for a long time took up the attention of 
 the court, the Chevalier de Grammont, who was not 
 thoroughly acquainted with all the particulars, inveighed 
 more bitterly than all the citizens of London put to- 
 gether against this tyranny ; and it was upon this occa- 
 sion that he produced new words to that fatal saraband 
 which had unfortunately so great a share in the adven- 
 ture. The Chevalier passed for the author ; but if Saint 
 Evremond had any part in the composition, it certainly 
 was greatly inferior to his other performances, as the 
 reader will see in the following chapter. 
 
 LADY R0BART3. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Every man who believes that his honor depends upon 
 that of his wife is a fool who torments himself, and drives 
 her to despair ; but he who, being naturally jealous, has 
 the additional misfortune of loving his wife, and who 
 expects that she should only live for him, is a perfect 
 madman, whom the torments of hell have actually taken 
 hold of in this world, and whom nobody pities. All 
 reasoning and observation on these unfortunate circum- 
 stances attending wedlock concur in this, that precaution 
 is vain and useless before the evil, and revenge odious 
 afterwards. 
 
 The Spaniards, who tyrannize over their wives, more 
 by custom than from jealousy, content themselves with 
 preserving the niceness of their honor by duennas, grates, 
 and locks. The Italians, who are wary in their sus- 
 picions, and vindictive in their resentments, pursue a 
 different line of conduct : some satisfy themselves with 
 keeping their wives under locks which they think secure: 
 others by ingenious precautions exceed whatever the 
 Spaniards can invent for confining the fair sex ; but the 
 generality are of opinion, that in either unavoidable 
 danger or in manifest transgression, the surest way is to 
 assassinate. 
 
 But, ye courteous and indulgent nations, who, far 
 (212) 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONY. 213 
 
 from admitting these savage and barbarous customs, give 
 full liberty to your dear ribs, and commit the care of 
 their virtue to their own discretion, you pass without 
 alarms or strife your peaceful days, in all the enjoyments 
 of domestic indolence ! 
 
 It was certainly some evil genius that induced Lord 
 Chesterfield to distinguish himself from his patient and 
 good-natured countrymen, and ridiculously to afford the 
 world an opportunity of examining into the particulars 
 of an adventure which would perhaps never have been 
 known without the verge of the court, and which would 
 everywhere have been forgotten in less than a month ; 
 but now, as soon as ever he had turned his back, in 
 order to march away with his prisoner, and the orna- 
 ments she was supposed to have bestowed upon him, 
 God only knows what a terrible attack there was made 
 upon his rear: kochester,* Middlesex, f Sedley,J Ether- 
 edge, § and all the whole band of wits, exposed him in 
 
 *Joliu Wilmot, Earl of Rochester — "a man," as Lord Orford ob- 
 serves, "whom the Muses were fond to inspire, and ashamed to avow ; 
 and who practised, without the least reserve, that secret which can 
 make verses more read for their defects than for their merits : " Noble 
 Authors, vol. ii., p. 43 ; — was bom, according to Burnet and Wood, in 
 the month of April, 1648 ; but Gadbury, in his almanack for 1695, 
 fixes the date on April i, 1647, from the information of Lord Roches- 
 ter himself. His father was Henry, Earl of Rochester, better known 
 by the title of Lord Wilmot. He was educated at Wadham College, 
 Oxford, and, in 1665, went to sea with the Earl of Sandwich, and dis- 
 played a degree of valor which he never showed at any period after- 
 wards. Bishop Burnet says, he "was naturally modest, till the court 
 corrupted him. His wit had in it a peculiar brightness, to which none 
 could ever arrive. He gave himself up to all sorts of extravagance, 
 and to the wildest frolics that a wanton wit could devise. He would 
 have gone about the streets as a beggar, and made love as a porter. \ 
 He set up a stage as an Italian mountebank. He was for some years 
 always drunk ; and was ever doing some mischief. The king loved his 
 company, for the diversion it afforded, better than his person ; and 
 there was no love lost between them. He took his revenges in many 
 libels. He found out a footman that knew all the court ; and he fur- 
 nished him with a red coat and a musquet, as a sentinel, and kept him 
 
214 MEMOIRS OP COUNf GRAMMONT. 
 
 numberless ballads, and diverted the public at bis ex- 
 pense. 
 
 all the winter long, every night, at the doors of such ladies as he be- 
 lieved might be in intrigues. In the covirt, a sentinel is little minded, 
 and is believed to be posted by a captain of the guards to hinder a 
 combat ; so this man saw who walked about and visited at forbidden 
 hours. By this means Lord Rochester made many discoveries ; and 
 when he was well furnished with materials, he used to retire into the 
 country, for a month or two, to write libels. Once, being drunk, he 
 intended to give the king a libel that he had written on some ladies ; 
 but, by a mistake, he gave him one written on himself. He fell into 
 an ill habit of body, and, in set fits of sickness, he had deep remorses ; 
 for he was guilty both of much impiety and of great immoralities. 
 But as he recovered, he threw these off, and turned again to his for- 
 mer ill courses. In the last year of his life, I was much with him, and 
 have written a book of what passed between him and me : I do verily 
 believe, he was then so changed, that, if he had recovered, he would 
 have made good all his resolutions." — History of his Own Times, vol. 
 i-. P- 372. On this book, mentioned by the bishop, Dr. Johnson pro- 
 nounces the following eulogium : — that it is one " which the critic 
 ought to read for its elegance, the philosopher for its arguments, and 
 the saint for its piety. It were an injury to the reader to offer him an 
 abridgement." — Life of Rochester. Lord Rochester died July 26, 1680. 
 t At this time the Earl of Middlesex was Lionel, who died in 1674. 
 The person intended by our author was Charles, then Lord Buckhurst, 
 afterwards Earl of Middlesex, and, lastly, Duke of Dorset. He was 
 bom January 24, 1637. Bishop Burnet says, he "was a generous, 
 good-natured man. He was so oppressed with phlegm, that, till he 
 was a little heated with wine, he scarce ever spoke ; but he was, upon 
 that exaltation, a very lively man. Never was so much ill-nature in a 
 pen as in his, joined with so much good-nature as was in himself, even 
 to excess ; for he was against all punishing, even of malefactors. He 
 was bountiful, even to run himself into difficulties, and charitable to a 
 fault ; for he commonly gave all he had about him when he met an 
 object that moved him. But he was so lazy, that, though the king 
 seemed to court him to be a favorite, he would not give himself the 
 trouble that belonged to that post. He hated the court, and despised 
 the king, when he saw he was neither generous nor tender-hearted." — 
 History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 370. Lord Orford says of him, 
 that "he was the finest gentleman of the voluptuous court of Charles 
 the Second, and in the gloomy one of King William. He had as much 
 wit as his first master, or his contemporaries^ Buckingham and Roches- 
 ter, without the royal want of feeling, the duke's want of principles, 
 or the earl's want of thought. The latter said with astonishment, ' that 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNl* GRAMMON1*. 2l5 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont was highly pleased with 
 these lively and humorous compositions ; and wherever 
 this subject was mentioned, never failed to produce his 
 supplement upon the occasion : " It is strange," said he, 
 ' ' that the country, which is little better than a gallows 
 or a grave for young people, is allotted in this land only 
 for the unfortunate, and not for the guilty ! poor Lady 
 Chesterfield, for some unguarded looks, is immediately 
 seized upon by an angry husband, who will oblige her 
 to spend her Christmas at a country-house, a hundred 
 and fifty miles from London ; while here there are a 
 thousand ladies who are left at liberty to do whatever 
 they please, and who indulge in that liberty, and whose 
 conduct, in short, deserves a daily bastinado. I name 
 no person, God forbid I should ; but Lady Middleton, 
 Lady Denham, the queen's and the duchess's maids of 
 honor, and a hundred others, bestow their favors to the 
 right and to the left, and not the least notice is taken of 
 
 he did not know how it was, but Lord Dorset might do anything, and 
 yet was never to blame.' It was not that he was free from the failings 
 of humanity, but he had the tenderness of it too, which made every- 
 body excuse whom everybody loved ; for even the asperity of his verses 
 seems to have been forgiven to 
 
 'The best good man, with the worst-natured muse.' " 
 Noble Authors, vol. ii., p. 96. Lord Dorset died January 19, 1705-6. 
 
 X Sir Charles Sedley was bom about the year 1639, and was educated 
 at Wadham College, Oxford. He ran into all the excesses of the times 
 in which he lived. Burnet says, ' ' Sedley had a more sudden and copious 
 wit, which furnished a perpetual run of discourse ; but he was not so 
 correct as Lord Dorset, nor so sparkling as Lord Rochester." — History 
 of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 372. He afterwards took a more serious 
 turn, and was active against the reigning family at the Revolution ; to 
 which he was probably urged by the dishonor brought upon his 
 daughter, created Countess of Dorchester by King James II. Lord 
 Rochester's lines on his powers of seduction are well known. He died 
 2oth August, 1701. 
 
 ? Sir George Etheredge, author of three comedies, was bom about the 
 year 1636. He was, in James the Second's reign, employed abroad ; first 
 as envoy to Hamburgh, and afterwards as minister at Ratisbon, where 
 he died, about the time of the Revolution. 
 
216 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 their conduct. As for L,ady Shrewsbury, she is con- 
 spicuous. I would take a wager she might have a man 
 killed for her every day, and she would only hold her 
 head the higher for it : one would suppose she imported 
 from Rome plenary indulgences for her conduct : there 
 are three or four gentlemen who wear an ounce of her 
 hair made into bracelets, and no person finds any fault ; 
 and yet shall such a cross-grained fool as Chesterfield be 
 permitted to exercise an act of tyranny, altogether un- 
 known in this country, upon the prettiest woman in 
 England, and all for a mere trifle : but I am his humble 
 servant ; his precautions will avail him nothing ; on the 
 contrary, very often a woman, who had no bad inten- 
 tions when she was suflfered to remain in tranquillity, is 
 prompted to such conduct by revenge, or reduced to it 
 by necessity : this is as true as the gospel : hear now 
 what Francisco's saraband says on the subject : 
 
 "Tell me, jealous-pated swain, 
 
 What avail thy idle arts, 
 
 To divide united hearts ? 
 
 Love, like the wind, I trow. 
 
 Will, where it listeth, blow ; 
 So, prithee, peace, for all thy cares are vain. 
 
 "When you are by, 
 Kor wishful look, be sure, nor eloquent sigh. 
 
 Shall dare those inward fires discover. 
 
 Which burn in either lover : 
 Yet Argus' self, if Argus were thy spy. 
 
 Should ne'er, with all his mob of eyes, 
 Surprise. 
 
 " Some joys forbidden. 
 Transports hidden. 
 Which love, through dark and secret ways. 
 Mysterious love, to kindred souls conveys." 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont passed for the author of 
 this sonnet : neither the justness of the sentiment, nor 
 turn of it are surprisingly beautiful-; but as it contained 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONT. 217 
 
 some truths that flattered the genius of the nation, and 
 pleased those who interested themselves for the fair sex, 
 the ladies were all desirous of having it to teach their 
 children. 
 
 During all this time the Duke of York, not being in 
 the way of seeing I^ady Chesterfield, easily forgot her : 
 her absence, however, had some circumstances attending 
 it which could not but sensibly afiect the person who had 
 occasioned her confinement; but there are certain fortu- 
 nate tempers to which every situation is easy ; they feel 
 neither disappointment with bitterness, nor pleasure 
 with acuteness. In the meantime, as the duke could not 
 remain idle, he had no sooner forgotten Lady Chester- 
 field, but he began to think of her whom he had been in 
 love with before, and was upon the point of relapsing 
 into his old passion for Miss Hamilton. 
 
 There was in lyondon a celebrated portrait-painter 
 called Lely,* who had greatly improved himself by 
 studying the famous Vandyke's pictures, which were 
 
 * Sir Peter Lely was bom at Soest, in Westphalia, 1617, and came to 
 England in 1641. Lord Orford observes, " If Vandyke's portraits are 
 often tame and spiritless, at least they are natural : his labored draperies 
 flow with ease, and not a fold but is placed with propriety. Lely sup- 
 plied the want of taste with clinquant : his nymphs trail fringes and 
 embroidery through meadows and purling streams. Add, that Vandyke's 
 habits are those of the times ; Lely's a sort of fantastic night-gowns, 
 fastened with a single pin. The latter was, in truth, the ladies' painter ; 
 and whether the age was improved in beauty or in flattery, Lely's 
 women are certainly much handsomer than those of Vandyke. They 
 please as much more as they evidently meant to please. He caught 
 the reigning character, and 
 
 ' on the animated canvas stole 
 
 The sleepy eye, that spoke the melting soul.' 
 
 I do not know whether, even in softness of the flesh, he did not excel 
 his predecessor. The beauties at Windsor are the court of Paphos, and 
 ought to be engraved for the memoirs of its charming biographer. 
 Count KamHton."— Anecdotes of Painting, vol. iii., p. 27. Sir Peter 
 Lely died 1680, and was buried in St. Paul's, Covent Garden. 
 
218 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 dispersed all over England in abundance. Lely imitated 
 Vandyke's manner, and approached the nearest to him of 
 all the moderns. The Duchess of York, being desirous 
 of having the portraits of the handsomest persons at court, 
 I^ely painted them, and employed all his skill in the 
 performance; nor could he ever exert himself upon more 
 beautiful subjects. Every picture appeared a master- 
 piece ; and that of Miss Hamilton appeared the highest 
 finished : Lely himself acknowledged that he had drawn 
 it with a particular pleasure. The Duke of York took 
 a delight in looking at it, and began again to ogle the 
 original : he had very little reason to hope for success ; 
 and at the same time that his hopeless passion alarmed 
 Chevalier de Grammont, I,ady Denham thought proper 
 to renew the negotiation which had so unluckily been 
 interrupted: it was soon brought to a conclusion; for 
 where both parties are sincere in a negotiation, no time 
 is lost in cavilling. Everything succeeded prosperously 
 on one side ; yet I know not what fatality obstructed the 
 pretensions of the other. The duke was very urgent 
 with the duchess to put L,ady Denham in possession of 
 the place which was the object of her ambition ; but, as 
 she was not guarantee for the performance of the secret 
 articles of the treaty, though till this time she had 
 borne with patience the inconstancy of the duke, and 
 yielded submissively to his desires, yet, in the present 
 instance, it appeared hard and dishonorable to her, to 
 entertain near her person, a rival, who would expose her 
 to the danger of acting but a second part in the midst of 
 her own court. However, she saw herself upon the 
 point of being forced to it by authority, when a far more 
 unfortunate obstacle forever bereft poor Lady Denham of 
 the hopes of possessing that fatal place, which she had 
 solicited with such eagerness. 
 
 Old Denham, naturally jealous, became more and 
 more suspicious, and found that he had sufficient ground 
 for such conduct: his wife was young and handsome, he 
 
MEMOIRS O^ COUNT GRAMMONT. 219 
 
 old and disagreeable : what reason then had he to flatter 
 himself that Heaven would exempt him from the fate of 
 husbands in the like circumstances ? This he was con- 
 tinually saying to himself ; but when compliments were 
 poured in upon him from all sides, upon the place his 
 lady was going to have near the duchess's person, he 
 formed ideas of what was sufficient to have made him 
 hang himself, if he had possessed the resolution. The 
 traitor chose rather to exercise his courage against 
 another. He wanted precedents for putting in practice 
 his resentments in a privileged country : that of Lord 
 Chesterfield was not sufficiently bitter for the revenge he 
 meditated: besides, he had no country-house to which he 
 could carry his unfortunate wife. This being the case, 
 the old villain made her travel a much longer journey 
 without stirring out of Ivondon. Merciless fate robbed 
 her of life, * and of her dearest hopes, in the bloom of 
 youth. 
 
 As no person entertained any doubt of his having poi- 
 soned her, the populace of his neighborhood had a de- 
 sign of tearing him in pieces, as soon as he should come 
 abroad; but he shut himself up to bewail her death, 
 until their fury was appeased by a magnificent funeral, 
 at which he distributed four times more burnt wine than 
 had ever been drunk at any burial in England. 
 
 While the town was in fear of some great disaster, as 
 an expiation for these fatal effects of jealousy, Hamilton 
 was not altogether so easy as he flattered himself he 
 should be after thq departure of Lady Chesterfield: he had 
 only consulted the dictates of revenge in what he had 
 done. His vengeance was satisfied ; but such was far 
 from being the case with his love; and having, since the 
 absence of her he still admired, notwithstanding his re- 
 
 * The lampoons of the day, some of which are to be found in Andrew 
 Marvell's Works, more than insinuate that she was deprived of life by 
 a mixture infused into some chocolate. The slander of the times im- 
 puted her death to the jealousy of the Duchess of York. 
 
220 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 sentments, leisure to make those reflections which a 
 recent injury will not permit a man to attend to: "And 
 wherefore," said he to himself, "was I so eager to make 
 her miserable, who alone, however culpable she may be, 
 has it in her power to make me happy ? Cursed jeal- 
 ousy ! ' ' continued he, ' ' yet more cruel to those who tor- 
 ment than to those who are tormented ! What have I 
 gained by having blasted the hopes of a more happy 
 rival, since I was not able to perform this without depriv- 
 ing myself, at the same time, of her upon whom the 
 whole happiness and comfort of my life was centred." 
 
 Thus, clearly proving to himself, by a great many 
 reasonings of the same kind, and all out of season, that 
 in such an engagement it was much better to partake 
 with another than to have nothing at all, he filled his 
 mind with a number of vain regrets and unprofitable re- 
 morse, when he received a letter from her who occa- 
 sioned them, but a letter so exactly adapted to increase 
 them, that, after he had read it, he looked upon himself 
 ^ as the greatest scoundrel in the world. Here it follows : 
 "You will, no doubt, be as much surprised at this 
 letter as I was at the unconcerned air with which you 
 beheld my departure. I am led to believe that you had 
 imagined reasons which, in your own mind, justified 
 such unseasonable conduct. If you are still under the 
 impression of such barbarous sentiments it will afford you 
 pleasure to be made acquainted with what I suffer in the 
 most horrible of prisons.' Whatever the country affords 
 most melancholy in this season presents itself to my view 
 on all sides : surrounded by impassable roads, out of one 
 window I see nothing but rocks, out of another nothing 
 but precipices ; but wherever I turn my eyes within 
 doors I meet those of a jealous husband, still more in- 
 supportable than the sad objects that encompass me. I 
 should add to the misfortunes of my life that of seeming 
 criminal in the eyes of a man who ought to have justified 
 me, even against convincing appearances, if by my 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 221 
 
 avowed innocence I had a right to complain or to expos- 
 tulate : but how is. it possible for me to justify myself at 
 such a distance? and how can I flatter myself that the 
 description of a most dreadful prison will not prevent 
 you from believing me? But do you deserve that I 
 should wish you did ? Heavens ! how I must hate you, 
 if I did not love you to distraction. Come, therefore, 
 and let me once again see you, that you may hear my 
 justification ; and I am convinced that if after this visit 
 you find me guilty it will not be with respect to your- 
 self. Our Argus sets out to-morrow for Chester, where 
 a law-suit will detain him a week. I know not whether 
 he will gain it ; but I am sure it will be entirely your 
 fault if he does not lose one, for which he is at least as 
 anxious as that he is now going after. ' ' 
 
 This letter was sufficient to make a man run blindfold 
 into an adventure still more rash than that which was 
 proposed to him, and that was rash enough in all re- 
 spects : he could not perceive by what means she could 
 justify herself ; but as she assured him he should be satis- 
 fied with his journey, this was all he desired at present. 
 
 There was one of his relations with Lady Chesterfield, 
 who, having accompanied her in her exile, had gained 
 some share in their mutual confidence ; and it was 
 through her means he received this letter, with all the 
 necessary instructions about his journey and his arrival. 
 Secrecy being the soul of such expeditions, especially 
 before an amour is accomplished, he took post, and set 
 out in the night, animated by the most tender and flat- 
 tering wishes, so that, in less than no time almost, in 
 comparison with the distance and the badness of the 
 roads, he had travelled a hundred and fifty tedious 
 miles : at the last stage he prudently dismissed the post- 
 boy. It was not yet daylight, and therefore, for fear of 
 the rocks and precipices mentioned in her letter, he 
 proceeded with tolerable discretion, considering he was 
 in love. 
 
222 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 By this means he fortunately escaped all the danger- 
 ous places, and, according to his instructions, alighted 
 at a little hut adjoining to the park wall. The place 
 was not magnificent ; but, as he only wanted rest, it did 
 well enough for that : he did not wish for daylight, and 
 was even still less desirous of being seen ; wherefore, 
 having shut himself up in this obscure retreat, he fell 
 into a profound sleep, and did not wake until noon. 
 As he was particularly hungry when he awoke, he ate 
 and drank heartily : and, as he was the neatest man at 
 court, and was expected by the neatest lady in England, 
 he spent the remainder of the day in dressing himself, 
 and in making all those preparations which the time and 
 place permitted, without deigning once to look around 
 him, or to ask his landlord a single question. At last 
 the orders he expected with great impatience were 
 brought him, in the beginning of the evening, by a ser- 
 vant, who, attending him as a guide, after having led 
 him for about half an hour in the dirt, through a park 
 of vast extent, brought him at last into a garden, into 
 which a little door opened : he was posted exactly oppo- 
 site to this door, by which, in a short time, he was to be 
 introduced to a more agreeable situation ; and here his 
 conductor left him. The night advanced, but the door 
 never opened. 
 
 Though the winter was almost over, the cold weather 
 seemed only to be beginning : he was dirtied up to his 
 knees in mud, and soon perceived that if he continued 
 much longer in this garden it would all be frozen. This 
 beginning of a very dark and bitter night would have 
 been unbearable to any other ; but it was nothing to a 
 man who flattered himself to pass the remainder of it in 
 the height of bliss. However, he began to wonder at so 
 many precautions in the absence of a husband : his im- 
 agination, by a thousand delicious and tender ideas, sup- 
 ported him some time against the torments of impatience 
 and the inclemency of the weather ; but he felt his 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 223 
 
 inaagination, notwithstanding, cooling by degrees ; and 
 two hours, which seemed to him as tedious as two whole 
 ages, having passed, and not the least notice being taken 
 of him, either from the door or from the window, he 
 began to reason with himself upon the posture of his 
 affairs, and what was the fittest conduct for him to pur- 
 sue in this emergency : "What if I should rap at this 
 cursed door?" said he ; "for if my fate requires that I 
 should perish, it is at least more honorable to die in the 
 house than to be starved to death in the garden : but 
 then," continued he, "I may, thereby, perhaps, expose 
 a person whom some unforeseen accident may, at this 
 very instant, have reduced to greater perplexity than 
 even I myself am in." This thought supplied him with 
 a necessary degree of patience and fortitude against the 
 enemies he had to contend with ; he therefore began to 
 walk quickly to and fro, with resolution to wait, as long 
 as he could keep alive, the end of an adventure which 
 had such an uncomfortable beginning. All this was to 
 no purpose ; for though he used every effort to keep him- 
 self warm, and though muffled up in a thick cloak, yet 
 he began to be benumbed in all his limbs, and the cold 
 gained the ascendancy over all his amorous vivacity and 
 eagerness. Daybreak was not far off, and judging now 
 that, though the accursed door should even be opened, 
 it would be to no purpose, he returned, as well as he 
 could, to the place from whence he had set out upon 
 this wonderful expedition. 
 
 All the fagots that were in the cottage were hardly 
 able to unfreeze him : the more he reflected on his ad- 
 venture, the circumstances attending it appeared still the 
 more strange and unaccountable ; but so far from accus- 
 ing the charming countess, he suffered a thousand differ- 
 ent anxieties on her account. Sometimes he imagined 
 that her husband might have returned unexpectedly ; 
 sometimes, that she might suddenly have been taken ill ; 
 in short, that some insuperable obstacle had unluckily 
 
224 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 interposed, and prevented his happiness, notwithstanding 
 his mistress's kind intentions towards him. "But 
 wherefore, ' ' said he, ' ' did she forget me in that cursed 
 garden? Is it possible that she could not find a single 
 moment to make me at least some sign or other, if she 
 could neither speak to me nor give me admittance ? ' ' 
 He knew not which of these conjectures to rely upon, or 
 how to answer his own questions; but as he flattered 
 himself that everything would succeed better the next 
 night, after having vowed not to set a foot again into 
 that unfortunate garden, he gave orders to be awakened 
 as soon as any person should inquire for him : then he 
 laid himself down in one of the worst beds in the world, 
 and slept as sound as if he had been in the best : he sup- 
 posed that he should not be awakened, but either by a 
 letter or a message from Lady Chesterfield ; but he had 
 scarce slept two hours, when he was roused by the sound 
 of the horn and the cry of the hounds. The hut which 
 aflForded him a retreat, joining, as we before said, to the 
 park wall, he called his host, to know what was the 
 occasion of that hunting, which made a noise as if the 
 whole pack of hounds had been in his bedchamber. He 
 was told that it was my lord hunting a hare in his park. 
 "What lord?" said he, in great surprise. "The Earl 
 of Chesterfield," replied the peasant. He was so aston- 
 ished at this that at first he hid his head under the bed- 
 clothes, under the idea that he already saw him entering 
 with all his hounds ; but as soon as he had a little re- 
 covered himself he began to curse capricious fortune, no 
 longer doubting but this jealous fool's return had occa- 
 sioned all his tribulations in the preceding night. 
 
 It was not possible for him to sleep again, after such 
 an alarm ; he therefore got up, that he might revolve in 
 his mind all the stratagems that are usually employed 
 either to deceive, or to remove out of the way, a jealous 
 scoundrel of a husband, who thought fit to neglect his 
 law-suit in order to plague his wife. He had just finished 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 225 
 
 dressing himself, and was beginning to question his land- 
 lord, when the same servant who had conducted him to 
 the garden delivered him a letter and disappeared, with- 
 out waiting for an answer. This letter was from his 
 relation, and was to this effect : 
 
 "I am extremely sorry that I have innocently been 
 accessary to bringing you to a place to which you were 
 only invited to be laughed at : I opposed this journey at 
 first, though I was then persuaded it was wholly sug- 
 gested by her tenderness ; but she has now undeceived 
 me : she triumphs in the trick she has played you : her 
 husband has not stirred from hence, but stays at home, 
 out of complaisance to her : he treats her in the most 
 affectionate manner; and it was upon their reconciliation 
 that she found out that you had advised him to carry 
 her into the country. She has conceived such hatred 
 and aversion against you for it, that I find, from her 
 discourse, she has not yet wholly satisfied her resent- 
 ment. Console yourself for the hatred of a person whose 
 heart never merited your tenderness. Return : a longer 
 stay in this place will but draw upon you some fresh 
 misfortune : for my part, I shall soon leave her : I know 
 her, and I thank God for it. I do not repent having 
 pitied her at first ; but I am disgusted with an employ- 
 ment which but ill agrees with my way of thinking. ' ' 
 
 Upon reading this letter, astonishment, shame, hatred 
 and rage seized at once upon his heart : then menaces, 
 invectives, and the desire of vengeance, broke forth by 
 turns, and excited his passion and resentment; but, after 
 he deliberately considered the matter, he resolved that 
 it was now the best way quietly to mount his horse and 
 to carry back with him to I,ondon a severe cold, instead 
 of the soft wishes and tender desires he had brought from 
 thence. He quitted this perfidious place with much 
 greater expedition than he had arrived at it, though his 
 mind was far from being occupied with such tender and 
 agreeable ideas : however, when he thought himself at 
 15 
 
226 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 a sufficient distance to be out of danger of meeting Lord 
 Chesterfield and his hounds, he chose to look back, that 
 he might at least have the satisfaction of seeing the 
 prison where this wicked enchantress was confined ; but 
 what was his surprise, when he saw a very fine house, 
 situated on the banks of a river, in the most delightful 
 and pleasant country imaginable.* Neither rock nor 
 precipice was here to be seen ; for, in reality, they were 
 only in the letter of his perfidious mistress. This fur- 
 nished fresh cause for resentment and confusion to a 
 man who thought himself so well acquainted with all 
 the wiles, as well as weaknesses, of the fair sex ; and 
 who now found himself the dupe of a coquette, who 
 was reconciled to her husband in order to be revenged 
 on her lover. 
 
 At last he reached London, well furnished with argu- 
 ments to maintain that a man must be ^extremely weak 
 to trust to the tenderness of a woman who has once de- 
 ceived him, but that he must be a complete fool to run 
 after her. 
 
 This adventure not being much to his credit, he sup- 
 pressed, as much as possible, both the journey and the 
 
 * This was Bretby, in tlie county of Derby. A late traveller bas the 
 following reflections on this place : "Moving back again a few miles to 
 the west, we trace, with sad reflection, the melancholy ruins and de- 
 structions of what was once the boasted beauty of the lovely country, 
 viz., Bretby, the ancient seat of the Earls of Chesterfield. Nothing 
 scarce is left of that former grandeur, those shades, those sylvan scenes 
 that everywhere graced the most charming of all parks : the baneful 
 hand of luxury hath, with rude violence, laid them waste. About ten 
 years ago, the venerable and lofty pile was standing, and exhibited de- 
 lightful magnificence to its frequent visitors : its painted roofs and 
 walls, besides a large collection of pictures, afforded much entertain- 
 ment to the fond admirer of antique beauties ; and the whole stood as 
 a lasting monument of fame and credit to its lordly owner. Would 
 they were standing now ! but that thought is vain : not only each sur- 
 rounding monument, but the very stones themselves, have been con- 
 verted to the purpose of filthy lucre." — Tour in 1787 from London to 
 the Western Islands of Scotland, i2mo., p. 29. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 227 
 
 circumstances attending it ; but, as we may easily sup- 
 pose, L,ady Chesterfield made no secret of it, the king 
 came to the knowledge of it ; and, having complimented 
 Hamilton upon it, desired to be informed of all the par- 
 ticulars of the expedition. The Chevalier de Grammont 
 happened to be present at this recital; and, having gently 
 inveighed against the treacherous manner in which he 
 had been used, said: "If she is to be blamed for carrying 
 the jest so far, you . are no less to be blamed for coming 
 back so suddenly, like an ignorant novice. I dare lay 
 an hundred guineas, she has more than once repented of 
 a resentment which you pretty well deserved for the 
 trick you had played her : women love revenge ; but 
 their resentments seldom last long ; and if you had re- 
 mained in the neighborhood till the next day, I will be 
 hanged if she would not have given you satisfaction for 
 the first night's, sufierings." Hamilton being of a dif- 
 ferent opinion, the Chevalier de Grammont resolved to 
 maintain his assertion by a case in point ; and, address- 
 ing himself to the king: "Sir," said he, "your majesty, 
 I suppose, must have known Marion de I'Orme, the 
 most charming creature in all France : though she was 
 as witty as an angel, she was as capricious as a devil. 
 This beauty having made me an appointment, a whim 
 seized her to put me off, and to give it to another ; she 
 therefore wrote me one of the tenderest billets in the 
 world, full of the grief and sorrow she was in, by being 
 obliged to disappoint me, on account of a most terrible 
 headache, that obliged her to keep her bed, and de- 
 prived her of the pleasure of seeing me till the next day. 
 This headache coming all of a sudden, appeared to me 
 very suspicious ; and, never doubting but it was her 
 intention to jilt me: 'Very well, mistress coquette,' 
 said I to myself, ' if you do not enjoy the pleasure of 
 seeing me this day, you shall not enjoy the satisfaction 
 of seeing another. ' 
 
 ' ' Hereupon, I detached all my servants, some of whom 
 
228 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 patrolled about her house, whilst others watched her 
 door ; one of the latter brought me intelligence that no 
 person had gone into her house all the afternoon ; but 
 that a foot-boy had gone out as it grew dark ; that he 
 followed him as far as the Rue Saint Antoine, where this 
 boy met another, to whom he only spoke two or three 
 words. This was sufficient to confirm my suspicions, 
 and make me resolve either to make one of the party, 
 or to disconcert it. 
 
 ' 'As the bagnio where I lodged was at a great distance 
 from the Marais, as soon as the night set in I mounted 
 my horse, without any attendant. When I came to the 
 Place-Royale, the servant, who was sentry there, assured 
 me that no person was yet gone into Mademoiselle de 
 I'Orme's * house : I rode forward towards the Rue Saint 
 Antoine; and, just as I was going out of the Place- 
 Royale, I saw a man on foot coming in-to it, who avoided 
 me as much as he possibly could ; but his endeavor was 
 all to no purpose ; I knew him to be the Duke de Bris- 
 sac, and I no longer doubted but he was my rival that 
 night : I then approached towards him, seeming as if I 
 feared I mistook my man ; and, alighting with a very 
 busy air : ' Brissac, my friend,' said I, 'you must do me 
 a service of the very greatest importance : I have an ap- 
 pointment, for the first time, with a girl who lives very 
 near this place ; and, as this visit is only to concert 
 measures, I shall make but a very short stay ; be so kind, 
 therefore, as to lend me your cloak, and walk my horse 
 about a little, until I return ; but, above all, do not go 
 far from this place : you see that I use you freely like a 
 friend ; but you know it is upon condition that you may 
 take the same liberty with me. ' I took his cloak, with- 
 
 * Marion de I'Onne, bom at Chalons, in Champagne, was esteemed 
 the most beautiful woman of her times. It is believed that she was 
 secretly married to the unfortunate Monsieur Cinqmars. After his 
 death, she became the mistress of Cardinal Richelieu, and, at last, of 
 Monsieur d'Emery, superintendent of the finances. 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONT. 229 
 
 out waiting for his answer, and he took my horse by the 
 bridle, and followed me with his eye ; but he gained no 
 intelligence by this ; for, after having pretended to go 
 into a house opposite to him, I slipped under the piazzas 
 to Mademoiselle de I'Orme's, where the door was opened 
 as soon as I knocked. I was so much muffled up in 
 Brissac's cloak that I was taken for him : the door was 
 immediately shut, not the least question asked me ; and 
 having none to ask myself I went straight to the lady's 
 chamber. I found her upon a couch in the most agree- 
 able and genteelest deshabille imaginable : she never in 
 her life looked so handsome, nor was so greatly surprised; 
 and, seeing her speechless and confounded : ' What is 
 the matter, my fair one?' said I, 'methinks this is a 
 headache very elegantly set off ; but your headache, to 
 all appearance, is now gone?' 'Not in the least,' said 
 she, ' I can scarce support it, and you will oblige me in 
 going away that I may go to bed. ' 'As for your going 
 to bed, to that I have not the least objection,' said I, 'but 
 as for my going away, that cannot be, my little princess : 
 the Chevalier de Grammont is no fool ; a woman does not 
 dress herself with so much care for nothing. ' ' You will 
 find, however,' said she, 'that it is for nothing ; for you 
 may depend upon it that you shall be no gainer by it. ' 
 ' What ! ' said I, ' after having made me an appointment ! ' 
 ' Well, ' replied she hastily, ' though I had made you fifty, 
 it still depends upon me, whether I chose to keep them 
 or not, and you must submit if I do not. ' ' This might 
 do very well,' said I, ' if it was not to give it to another.' 
 Mademoiselle de I'Orme, as haughty as a woman of the 
 greatest virtue, and as passionate as one who has the least, 
 was irritated at a suspicion which gave her more concern 
 than confusion ; and seeing that she was beginning to 
 put herself in a passion : ' Madam, ' said I, ' pray do not 
 talk in so high a strain; I know what perplexes you: you 
 are afraid lest Brissac should meet me here; but you may 
 make yourself easy on that account : I met him not far 
 
230 MEMOIKS OF COtTNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 from this place, and God knows that I have so managed 
 the aflfair as to prevent his visiting you soon. ' Having 
 spoken these words in a tone somewhat tragical, she ap- 
 peared concerned at first, and, looking upon me with 
 surprise : ' What do you mean about the Duke de Bris- 
 sac?' said she. 'I mean,' replied I, 'that he is at the 
 end of the street, walking my horse about ; but, if you 
 will not believe me, send one of your own servants 
 thither, or look at his cloak which I left in your ante- 
 chamber. ' Upon this she burst into a fit of laughter, in 
 the midst of her astonishment, and, throwing her arms 
 ground my neck, " My dear Chevalier,' said she, ' I can 
 hold out no longer ; you are too amiable and too eccen- 
 tric not to be pardoned.' I then told her the whole 
 story: she was ready to die with laughing; and, parting 
 very good friends, she assured me my rival might exercise 
 horses as long as he pleased, but that he should not set 
 his foot within her doors that night. 
 
 "I found the duke exactly in the place where I had 
 left him : I asked him a thousand pardons for having 
 made him wait so long, and thanked him a thousand 
 times for his complaisance. He told me I jested, that 
 such compliments were unusual among friends ; and to 
 convince me that he had cordially rendered me this piece 
 of service, he would, by all means, hold my horse while 
 I was mounting. I returned him his cloak, bade him 
 good-night, and went back to my lodgings, equally satis- 
 fied with my mistress and my rival. This, ' ' continued 
 he, "proves that a little patience and address are sufii- 
 cient to disarm the anger of the fair, to turn even their 
 tricks to a man's advantage." 
 
 It was not in vain that the Chevalier de Grammont di- 
 verted the court with his stories, instructed by his exam- 
 ple, and never appeared there but to inspire universal 
 joy ; for a long time he was the only foreigner in fashion. 
 Fortune, jealous of the justice which is done to merit, 
 and desirous of seeing all human happiness depend on her 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 231 
 
 caprice, raised up against him two competitors for the 
 pleasure he had long enjoyed of entertaining the English 
 court ; and these competitors were so much the more 
 dangerous, as the reputation of their several merits had 
 preceded their arrival, in order to dispose the suffrages 
 of the court in their favor. 
 
 They came to display, in their own persons, whatever 
 was the most accomplished either among the men of the 
 sword, or of the gown. The one was the Marquis de 
 Flamarens, * the sad object of the sad elegies of the 
 Countess de la Suse, f the other was the president Tam- 
 bonneau, the most humble and most obedient servant 
 and admirer of the beauteous Luynes. As they arrived 
 together, they exerted every endeavor to shine in concert: 
 their talents were as different as their persons ; Tambon- 
 neau,t who was tolerably ugly, founded his hopes upon a 
 great store of wit, which, however, no person in England 
 could find out ; and Flamarens, by his air and mien, 
 courted admiration, which was flatly denied him. 
 
 *A Monsieur Flamarin, but whether the same person as here de- 
 scribed cannot be exactly ascertained, is mentioned, in Sydney's Let- 
 ters, to have been in England at a later period than is comprehended 
 in these Memoirs. "Monsieur de Flamarin hath been received at 
 Windsor as seriously as if it had been believed the Queen of Spain's 
 marriage should not hold unless it were here approved ; and the for- 
 malities that are usual with men of business having been observed to 
 him, he is grown to think he is so." — Sydney's Works, p. 94. ' 
 
 t This lady was the daughter of Gaspar de Coligni, marshal of France, 
 and was celebrated in her time for her wit and her elegies. She was 
 one of the few women with whom Christina, Queen of Sweden, con- 
 descended to become intimate. Though educated a Protestant, she 
 embraced the Roman Catholic religion, less from a motive of devotion, 
 than to have a pretence for parting from her husband, who was a 
 Protestant, and for whom she had an invincible abhorrence ; which 
 occasioned the queen to say : "The Countess of Suse became a Cath- 
 olic, that she might neither meet her husband in this world nor the 
 next."' — See Lacombe's Life of Queen Christina. The countess died 
 in 1673. 
 
 X I find this person mentioned in Memoirs of the Court of France, 
 8vo., 1702, part ii., p. 42. 
 
232 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 They had agreed mutually to assist each other, in 
 order to succeed in their intentions ; and therefore, in 
 their first visits, the one appeared in state, and the other 
 was the spokesman. But they found the ladies in Eng- 
 land of a far different taste from those who had rendered 
 them famous in France : the rhetoric of the one had no 
 effect on the fair sex, and the fine mien of the other 
 distinguished him only in a minuet, which he first in- 
 troduced into England, and which he danced with 
 tolerable success. The English court had been too 
 long accustomed to the solid wit of Saint Evremond, 
 and the natural and singular charms of his hero, to be 
 seduced by appearances ; however, as the English have, 
 in general, a sort of predilection in favor of anything 
 that has the appearance of bravery, Flamarens was 
 better received on account of a duel, which, obliging 
 him to leave his own country, was a recommendation to 
 him in England. 
 
 Miss Hamilton had, at first, the honor of being dis- 
 tinguished by Tambonneau, who thought she possessed 
 a sufficient share of wit to discover the delicacy of his ; 
 and, being delighted to find that nothing was lost in 
 her conversation, either as to the turn, the expression, 
 or beauty of the thought, he frequently did her the favor 
 to converse with her ; and, perhaps, he would never 
 have found out that he was tiresome, if, contenting him- 
 self with the display of his eloquence, he had not 
 thought proper to attack her heart. This was carrying 
 the matter a little too far for Miss Hamilton's com- 
 plaisance, who was of opinion that she had already 
 shown him too much for the tropes of his harangues : he 
 was therefore desired to try somewhere else the ex- 
 periment of his seducing tongue, and nof to lose the 
 merit of his former constancy by an infidelity which 
 would be of no advantage to him. 
 
 He followed this advice like a wise and tractable 
 man ; and some time after, returning to his old mistress 
 
*1EM0IRS OE COUNT GRAMMONf. 233 
 
 in France, he began to lay in a store of politics for those 
 important negotiations in which he has since been em- 
 ployed. 
 
 It was not till after his departure that the Chevalier 
 de Grammont heard of the amorous declaration he had 
 made : this was a confidence of no great importance ; it, 
 however, saved Tambonneau from some ridicule which 
 might have fallen to his share before he went away. 
 His colleague, Flamarens, deprived of his support, soon 
 perceived that he was not likely to meet in England 
 with the success he had expected, both from love and 
 fortune : but Lord Falmouth, ever attentive to the glory 
 of his master, in the relief of illustrious men in distress, 
 provided for his subsistence, and Lady Southesk for his 
 pleasures : he obtained a pension from the king, and 
 from her everything he desired ; and most happy was it 
 for him that she had no other present to bestow but that 
 of her heart. 
 
 It was at this time that Talbot, whom we have before 
 mentioned, and who was afterwards created Duke of 
 Tyrconnel,* fell in love with Miss Hamilton. There 
 
 *Ricliard Talbot, the fifth son " of an Irish family, but of ancient 
 English extraction, which had always inhabited within that circle that 
 was called the Pale ; which, being originally an English plantation, 
 was, in so many hundred years, for the most part degenerated into 
 the manners of the Irish, and rose and mingled with them in the late 
 rebellion : and of this family there were two distinct families, who had 
 competent estates, and lived in many descents in the rank of gentlemen 
 of quality." Thus far I/ord Clarendon ; who adds, that Richard Talbot 
 and his " brothers were all the sons, or the grandsons, of one who was 
 a judge in Ireland, and esteemed a learned man." — Continuation of 
 Clarendon. Of the person now under consideration the same writer 
 appears, and with great reason, to have entertained a very ill opinion. 
 Dick Talbot, as he was called, ' ' was brought into Flanders first by Daniel 
 O'Neile, as one who was willing to assassinate Cromwell ; and he made 
 a journey into England with that resolution, not long before his death, 
 and after it returned into Flanders, ready to do all that he should be 
 required. He was a very handsome young man, wore good clothes, and 
 was, without doubt, of a clear, ready courage, which was virtue enough 
 to recommend a man to the duke's good opinion ; which, with more 
 
234 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 was not a more genteel man at court : he was indeed but 
 a younger brother, though of a very ancient family, 
 which, however, was not very considerable either for its 
 renown or its riches ; and though he was naturally of a 
 careless disposition, yet, being intent upon making his 
 fortune, and much in favor with the Duke of York, and 
 fortune likewise favoring him at play, he had improved 
 both so well that he was in possession of about forty 
 thousand pounds a year in land. He offered himself to 
 Miss Hamilton, with this fortune, together with the 
 almost certain hopes of being made a peer of the realm, 
 by his master's credit ; and, over-and-above all, as many 
 sacrifices as she could desire of I^ady Shrewsbury's 
 
 expedition than could be expected, he got, to that degree, that he was 
 made of his bed-chamber ; and from that qualification embarked himself 
 after the king's return, in the pretences of the Irish, with such an 
 unusual confidence, and, upon private contracts, with such scandalous 
 circumstances, that the chancellor had sometimes, at the council-table, 
 been obliged to give him severe reprehensions, and often desired the 
 duke to withdraw his countenance from him. " — Continuation of Claren- 
 don. It is to be remembered that he was one of the men of honor 
 already noticed. On King James's accession to the throne, he was 
 created Earl of Tyrconnel, and placed, as lieutenant-general, at the 
 head of the Irish army, where his conduct was so agreeable to his 
 sovereign, that he was, in 1689, advanced to the dignity of Duke of 
 Tyrconnel. He was afterwards employed by the king in Ireland, where 
 his efforts were without effect. The Duke of Berwick says, "his stature 
 was above the ordinary size. He had great experience of the world, 
 having been early introduced into the best company, and possessed of 
 an honorable employment in the household of the Duke of York ; who, 
 upon his succession to the crown, raised him to the dignity of an earl, 
 and, well knowing his zeal and attachment, made him soon after viceroy 
 of Ireland. He was a man of very good sense, very obliging, but immod- 
 erately vain, and full of cunning. Though he had acquired great pos- 
 sessions, it could not be said that he had employed improper means ; for 
 he never appeared to have a passion for money. He had not a military 
 genius, but much courage. After the Prince of Orange'Stinvasion, his 
 firmness preserved Ireland, and he nobly refused all the offers that were 
 made to induce him to submit. From the time of the battle of the 
 Boyne, he sank prodigioifsly, being become as irresolute in his mind as 
 un wieldly in his person." — Memoirs, vol. i., p. 94. He died at Lim- 
 erick, 5th August, 1691. • 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 235 
 
 letters, pictures, and hair ; curiosities which, indeed, are 
 reckoned for nothing in housekeeping, but which testify 
 strongly in favor of the sincerity and merit of a lover. 
 
 Such a rival was not to be despised ; and the Cheva- 
 lier de Grammont thought him the more dangerous, as 
 he perceived that Talbot was desperately in love ; that 
 he was not a man to be discouraged by a first repulse ; 
 that he had too much sense and good breeding to draw 
 upon himself either contempt or coldness by too great 
 eagerness ; and, besides this, his brothers began to fre- 
 quent the house. One of these brothers was almoner to 
 the queen,* an intriguing Jesuit, and a great match- 
 maker : the other was what was called a lay-monk, f who 
 had nothing of his order but the immorality and infamy 
 of character which is ascribed to them ; and withal, 
 frank and free, and sometimes entertaining, but ever 
 ready to speak bold and offensive truths, and to do good 
 offices. 
 
 When the Chevalier de Grammont reflected upon all 
 these things, there certainly was strong ground for un- 
 easiness : nor was the indifference which Miss Hamilton 
 showed for the addresses of his rival sufficient to remove 
 his fears; for being absolutely dependent on her father's 
 will, she could only answer for her own intentions : but 
 Fortune, who seemed to have taken him under her pro- 
 tection in England, now delivered him from all his un- 
 easiness. 
 
 Talbot had for many years stood forward as the patron 
 of the distressed Irish : this zeal for his countrymen was 
 certainly very commendable in itself ; at the same time, 
 
 * This was Peter Talbot, whose character is drawn by Lord Claren- 
 don in terms not more favorable than those in which his brother is 
 portrayed. — See Continuation of Clarendon, p. 363. 
 
 t Thomas Talbot, a Franciscan friar, of wit enough, says Lord 
 Clarendon, but of notorious debauchery. More particulars of this man 
 may be found in the same noble historian. — See Continuation of 
 Clarendon, p. 363. 
 
236 MEMOIRS OP COUNT ORAMMONT, 
 
 however, it was not altogether free from self-interest : 
 for, out of all the estates he had, through his credit, pro- 
 cured the restoration of to their primitive owners, he had 
 always obtained some small compensation for himself ; 
 but, as each owner found his advantage in it, no com- 
 plaint was made. Nevertheless, as it is very difficult to 
 use fortune and favor with moderation, and not to swell 
 with the gales of prosperity, some of his proceedings had 
 an air of haughtiness and indepfendence which offended 
 the Duke of Ormond, * then L,ord lyieutenant of Ireland, 
 as injurious to his Grace's authority. The duke resented 
 this behavior with great spirit. As there certainly was 
 a great difference between them, both as to their birth 
 and rank, and to their credit, it had been prudent in 
 Talbot to have had recourse to apologies and submission; 
 but such conduct appeared to him base, and unworthy 
 for a man of his importance to submit to: he accordingly 
 acted with haughtiness and insolence ; but he was soon con- 
 vinced of his error; for, having inconsiderately launched 
 out into some arrogant expressions which it neither 
 became him to utter nor the Duke of Ormond to forgive, 
 he was sent prisoner to the Tower, from whence he 
 could not be released until he had made all necessary 
 submissions to his Grace : he therefore employed all his 
 friends for that purpose, and was obliged to yield more 
 to get out of this scrape than would have been necessary 
 to have avoided it, By this imprudent conduct he lost 
 all hopes of marrying into a family, which, after such a 
 proceeding, was not likely to listen to any proposal from 
 him. 
 
 It was with great difficulty and mortification that he 
 was obliged to suppress a passion which had made far 
 greater progress in his heart than this quarrel had done 
 
 * A very exact account of this transaction is given by Lord Claren- 
 don, by wbich it appears that Talbot was committed to the Tower for 
 threatening to assassinate the Duke of Ormond. — Continuation of 
 Clarendon, p. 362. 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 237 
 
 good to his affairs. This being the case, he was of 
 opinion that his presence was necessary in Ireland, and 
 that he was better out of the way of Miss Hamilton, to 
 remove those impressions which still troubled his 
 repose: his departure, therefore, soon followed this reso- 
 lution. 
 
 Talbot played deep, and was tolerably forgetful ; the 
 Chevalier de Grammont won three or four hundred guin- 
 eas of him the very evening on which he was sent to the 
 Tower. That accident had made him forget his usual 
 punctuality in paying the next morning whatever he had 
 lost over-night; and this debt had so far escaped his mem- 
 ory, that it never once occurred to him after he was en- 
 larged. The Chevalier de Grammont, who saw him at 
 his departure, without taking the least notice of the 
 money he owed him, wished him a good journey ; and, 
 having met him at court, as he came to take his leave of 
 the king: "Talbot," said he, " if my services can be of 
 any use to you during your absence, you have but to 
 command them: you know old Russell has left his nephew 
 as his resident with Miss Hamilton: if you please, I will 
 act for you in the same capacity. Adieu, God bless you: 
 be sure not to fall sick upon the road; but if you should, 
 pray remember me in your will. ' ' Talbot, who, upon 
 this compliment, immediately recollected the money he 
 owed the Chevalier, burst out a-laughing, and embracing 
 him: "My dear Chevalier," said he, "I am so much 
 obliged to you for your offer, that I resign you my mis- 
 tress, and will send you your money instantly." The 
 Chevalier de Grammont possessed a thousand of these 
 genteel ways of refreshing the memories of those persons 
 who were apt to be forgetful in their payments. The 
 following is the method he used some years after with 
 lyord Cornwallis: * this lord had married the daughter of 
 
 * Charles, the third Lord Cornwallis, born in 1655. He married, 
 December 27, 1673, Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of Sir Stephen Fox, 
 
238 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Sir Stephen Fox,* treasurer of the king's household, one 
 of the richest and most regular men; in England. His 
 son-in-law, on the contrary, was a young spendthrift, 
 was very extravagant, loved gaming, lost as much as any 
 one would trust him, but was not quite so ready at pay- 
 ing. His father-in-law disapproved of his conduct, paid 
 his debts, and gave him a lecture at the same time. The 
 Chevalier de Grammont had won of him a thousand or 
 twelve hundred guineas, which he heard no tidings of, 
 although he was upon the eve of his departure, and he 
 had taken leave of Cornwallis in a more particular man- 
 ner than any other person. This obliged the Chevalier 
 to write him a billet, which was rather laconic. It was 
 this: 
 
 "My IvOrd, 
 
 ' ' Pray remember the Count de Grammont, and do 
 not forget Sir Stephen Fox." 
 
 To return to Talbot : he went away more concerned 
 
 knight, and afterwards, in 1688, the widow of the Duke of Monmouth. 
 Lord Cornwallis died April 29, 1698. 
 
 * This gentleman is said to have been of a genteel family, settled at 
 Farley, in Wiltshire, and was the architect of his own fortune. Lord 
 Clarendon says, in his History of the Rebellion, that he was entertained 
 by Lord Percy, then lord chamberlain of the king's household, at Paris, 
 about the year 1652, and continued in His Majesty's service until the 
 Restoration. On that event he was made clerk of the green cloth, and 
 afterwards paymaster-general of the forces in England. On the ist July, 
 1665, he was knighted. In 1680, he was constituted one of the lords 
 commissioners of the treasury. On the accession of James II., he was 
 continued first clerk of the green cloth ; and in December, i685, was 
 again appointed one of the commissioners of the treasury. At the rev- 
 olution, he concurred in voting the throne vacant ; and, on 19th March, 
 1689, was a third time appointed to the treasury, which place he held 
 until he retired from public business, in 1701. By his first lady he had 
 seven sons and three daughters ; and by his second, whom he married 
 in the year 1703, when he was 76 years of age, he had two sons, who 
 both afterwards became peers, — Stephen, Earl of Ilchester, and Henry, 
 Lord Holland, and two daughters. He died in the year 1716, at Chis- 
 wick, in his 89th year. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 239 
 
 than became a man who had voluntarily resigned his 
 mistress to another : neither his stay in Ireland, nor his 
 solicitude about his domestic affairs, perfectly cured him; 
 and if at his return he found himself disengaged from 
 Miss Hamilton's chains, it was only to exchange them 
 for others. The alteration that had taken place in the 
 two courts occasioned this change in him, as we shall see 
 in the sequel. 
 
 We have hitherto only mentioned the queen's maids 
 of honor, upon account of Miss Stewart and Miss War- 
 mestre: the others were Miss Bellenden, Mademoiselle de 
 la Garde, and Mademoiselle Bardou, all maids of honor, 
 as it pleased God. 
 
 Miss Bellenden was no beauty, but was a good-natured 
 girl, whose chief merit consisted in being plump and 
 fresh-colored ; and who, not having a sufficient stock of 
 wit to be a coquette in form, used all her endeavors to 
 please every person by her complaisance. Mademoiselle 
 de la Garde, and Mademoiselle Bardou, both French, 
 had been preferred to their places by the queen dowager: 
 the first was a little brunette, who was continually med- 
 dling in the affairs of her companions ; and the other by 
 all means claimed the rank of a maid of honor, though 
 she only lodged with the others, and both her title and 
 services were constantly contested. 
 
 It was hardly possible for a woman to be more ugly, 
 with so fine a shape ; but as a recompense, her ugliness 
 was set off with every art. The use she was put to was 
 to dance with Flamarens, and sometimes, towards the 
 conclusion of a ball, possessed of castanets and effrontery, 
 she would dance some figured saraband or other, which 
 amused the court. I^t us now see in what manner this 
 ended. 
 
 As Miss Stewart was very seldom in waiting on the 
 queen, she was scarcely considered as a maid of honor : 
 the others went off almost at thd same time, by different 
 adventures ; and this is the history of Miss Warmestre, 
 
240 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 whom we have before mentioned, when speaking of the 
 Chevalier de Grammont. 
 
 Lord Taaffe, eldest son of the Earl of Carlingford, * 
 was supposed to be in love with her ; and Miss War- 
 mestre not only imagined it was so, but likewise persuaded 
 herself that he would not fail to marry her the first op- 
 portunity ; and in the meantime she thought it her duty 
 to entertain him with all the civility imaginable. Taaffe 
 had made the Duke of Richmond t his confidant : these 
 two were particularly attached to each other ; but still 
 more so to wine. The Duke of Richmond, notwith- 
 standing his birth, made but an indifferent figure at 
 court ; and the king respected him still less than his 
 courtiers did : and perhaps it was in order to court His 
 Majesty's favor that he thought proper to fall in love 
 with Miss Stewart. The Duke and Lord Taaflfe made 
 each other the confidants of their respective engage- 
 ments ; and these were the measures they took to put 
 their designs in execution. Little Mademoiselle de la 
 
 * Nicholas, the third Viscount Taaffe, and second Earl of Carling- 
 ford. He was of the privy-council to Eling James II., and, in 1689, 
 went as envoy to the Emperor Leopold. He lost his life the next year, 
 ist July, at the battle of the Boyne, commanding at that time a regi- 
 ment of foot. This nobleman, although he succeeded his father in his 
 title, was not his eldest son. King Charles appears to have had a great 
 regard for the family. In a letter from Lord Arlington to Sir Richard 
 Fanshaw, dated April 21, 1664, that nobleman says: "Colonel Luke 
 Taaffe (a brother of my Lord Carlingford's) hath served his catholic 
 majesty many years in the state of Milan, with a standing regiment 
 there ; which regiment he desires now to deliver over to Captain 
 Nicholas Taaffe, a younger son of my Lord Carlingford's, and the col- 
 onel's nephew, who is now a captain of the regiment ; and His Majesty 
 commands me to recommend to your excellency the bringing this to 
 pass, for the affection he hath to the family, and the merit of this young 
 gentleman." — Arlington's Letters, vol. ii., p. 21. 
 
 t Charles Stewart, Duke of Richmond and Lennox. He was after- 
 wards sent ambassador to Denmark, and died at Elsinore, December 
 12, 1672. Burnet says he " was sent to give a lustre to the negotiation, 
 which was chiefly managed by Mr. Henshaw." — History of his Oun^ 
 Times, vol. i., p. 425. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 241 
 
 Garde * was charged to acquaint Miss Stewart that the 
 Duke of Richmond was dying of love for her, and 
 that when he ogled her in public it was a certain sign 
 that he was ready to marry her, as soon as ever she would 
 consent. 
 
 Taaffe had no commission to give the little ambas- 
 sadress for Miss Warmestre ; for there everything was 
 already arranged; but she was charged to settle and pro- 
 vide some conveniences which were still wanting for the 
 freedom of their commerce, such as to have free egress 
 and regress to her at all hours of the day or night ; this 
 appeared difficult to be obtained, but it was, however, at 
 length accomplished. 
 
 The governess of the maids of honor, who for the 
 world would not have connived at anything that was not 
 fair and honorable, consented that they should sup as 
 often as they pleased in Miss Warmestre' s apartments, 
 provided their intentions were honorable, and she one 
 of the company. The good old lady was particularly 
 fond of green oysters, and had no aversion to Spanish 
 wine : she was certain of finding at every one of these 
 suppers two barrels of oysters ; one to be eaten with the 
 party, and the other for her to carry away : as soon, 
 therefore, as she had taken her dose of wine, she took 
 her leave of the company. 
 
 It was much about the time that the Chevalier de 
 Grammont had cast his eyes upon Miss Warmestre, that 
 this kind of life was led in her chamber. God knows 
 how many ham pies, bottles of wine, and other products 
 of his lordship's liberality were there consumed ! 
 
 * Daughter of Charles Peliot, Lord de la Garde, whose eldest 
 daughter married Sir Thomas Bond, comptroller of the household to 
 the queen-mother. Sir Thomas Bond had a considerable estate at 
 Peckham, and his second son married the niece of Jermyn, one of 
 the heroes of these Memoirs. — See Collinses Baronetage, vol. iii., p. 
 4. She became the wife of Sir Gabriel Silvius, and died 13th Oc- 
 tober, 1730. 
 16 
 
242 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 In the midst of these nocturnal festivals, and of this 
 \nnocent commerce, a relation of Killegrew's came up 
 to London about a lawsuit : he gained his cause, but 
 nearly lost his senses. 
 
 He was a country gentleman, who had been a widower 
 about six months, and was possessed of fifteen or sixteen 
 thousand pounds a year : the good man, who had no busi- 
 ness at court, went thither merely to see his cousin Kille- 
 grew, who could have dispensed with his visits. He 
 there saw Miss Warmestre ; and at first sight fell in love 
 with her. His passion increased to such a degree that, 
 having no rest either by day or by night, he was obliged 
 to have recourse to extraordinary remedies; he therefore 
 early one morning called upon his cousin Killegrew, 
 told him his case, and desired him to demand Miss 
 Warmestre in marriage for him. 
 
 Killegrew was struck with wonder and astonishment 
 when he heard his design: nor could he cease wondering 
 at what sort of creature, of all the women in London, 
 his cousin had resolved upon marrying. It was some time 
 before Killegrew could believe that he was in earnest ; 
 but when he was convinced that he was, he began to 
 enumerate the dangers and inconveniences attending so 
 rash an enterprise. He told him that a girl educated at 
 court was a terrible piece of furniture for the country ; 
 that to carry her thither against her inclination would 
 as efiectually rob him of his happiness and repose as if 
 he was transported to hell ; that if he consented to let 
 her stay, he needed only to compute what it would cost 
 him in equipage, table, clothes, and gaming-money, to 
 maintain her in London according to her caprices ; and 
 then to cast up how long his fifteen thousand a-year 
 would last. 
 
 His cousin had already formed this computation ; but, 
 finding his reason less potent than his love, he remained 
 fixed in his resolution; and Killegrew, yielding at length 
 to his importunities, went and offered his cousin, bound 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 243 
 
 hand and foot, to the victorious fair. As he dreaded 
 nothing more than a compliance on her part, so nothing 
 could astonish him more than the contempt with which 
 she received his proposal. The scorn with which she 
 refused him, made him believe that she was sure of lyord 
 Taafife, and wonder how a girl like her could find out 
 two men who would venture to marry her. He hastened 
 to relate this refusal, with all the most aggravating cir- 
 cumstances, as the best news he could carry to his cousin; 
 but his cousin would not believe him : he supposed that 
 Killegrew disguised the truth, for the same reasons he 
 had already alleged ; and not daring to mention the 
 matter any more to him, he resolved to wait upon her 
 himself. He summoned all his courage for the enter- 
 prise, and got his compliment by heart ; but as soon as 
 he had opened his mouth for the purpose, she told him 
 he might have saved himself the trouble of calling on her 
 about such a ridiculous aflFair; that she had already given 
 her answer to Killegrew ; and that she neither had, nor 
 ever should have, any other to give ; which words she 
 accompanied with all the severity with which impor- 
 tunate demands are usually refused. 
 
 He was more affected than confounded at this repulse: 
 everything became odious to him in L,ondon, and he 
 himself more so than all the rest : he therefore left town, 
 without taking leave of his cousin, went back to his 
 country-seat, and thinking it would be impossible for 
 him to live without the inhuman fair, he resolved to 
 neglect no opportunity in his power to hasten his death. 
 
 But whilst, in order to indulge his sorrow, he had for- 
 saken all intercourse with dogs and horses ; that is to 
 say, renounced all the delights and endearments of a 
 country squire, the scornful nymph, who was certainly 
 mistaken in her reckoning, took the liberty of being 
 brought to-bed in the face of the whole court. 
 
 An adventure so public made no small noise, as we 
 may very well imagine : all the prudes at court at once 
 
244 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 broke loose upon it ; and those principally, whose age or 
 persons secured them from any such scandal, were the 
 most inveterate, and cried most loudly for justice. But 
 the governess of the maids of honor, who might have 
 been called to an account for it, affirmed that it was 
 nothing at all, and that she was possessed of circum- 
 stances which would at once silence all censorious 
 tongues. She had an audience of the queen, in order to 
 unfold the mystery; and related to Her Majesty how 
 everything had passed with her consent, that is to say, 
 upon honorable terms. 
 
 The queen sent to inquire of Lord Taaffe, whether he 
 acknowledged Miss Warmestre for his wife : to which 
 he most respectfully returned for answer, that he neither 
 acknowledged Miss Warmestre nor her child, and that 
 he wondered why she should rather father it upon him 
 than any other. The unfortunate Warmestre, more en- 
 raged at this answer than at the loss of such a lover, 
 quitted the court as soon as ever she was able, with a 
 resolution of quitting the world the first opportunity. 
 
 Killegrew, being upon the point of setting out upon a 
 journey when this adventure happened, thought he might 
 as well call upon his afiiicted cousin in his way, to ac- 
 quaint him with the circumstance ; and as soon as he saw 
 him, wthout paying any attention to the delicacy of his 
 love, or to his feelings, he bluntly told him the whole 
 story : nor did he omit any coloring that could heighten 
 his indignation, in order to make him burst with shame 
 and resentment. 
 
 We read that the gentle Tiridates quietly expired 
 upon the recital of the death of Marianne ; but Kille- 
 grew's fond cousin falling devoutly upon his knees, and 
 lifting up his eyes to Heaven, poured forth this exclama- 
 tion : 
 
 " Praised be the Lord for a small misfortune, which 
 perhaps may prove the comfort of my life ! Who knows 
 but the beauteous Warmestre will now accept of me ioi a 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 245 
 
 husband ; and that I may have the happiness of passing 
 the remainder of my days with a woman I adore, and by 
 whom I may expect to have heirs?" "Certainly," 
 said Killegrew, more confounded than his cousin ought 
 to have been on such an occasion, "you may depend 
 upon having both : I make no manner of doubt but she 
 will marry you as soon as ever she is recovered from her 
 lying-in ; and it would be a great ill-nature in her, who 
 already knows the way, to let you want children ; how- 
 ever, in the meantime, I advise you to take that she has 
 already, till you get more. ' ' 
 
 Notwithstanding this raillery, all that was said did 
 take place. This faithful lover courted her, as if she 
 had been the chaste Lucretia, or the beauteous Helen ; 
 his passion even increased after marriage, and the gener- 
 ous fair, first out of gratitude, and afterwards through 
 inclination, never brought him a child of which he was 
 not the father ; and though there have been many a 
 happy couple in England, this certainly was the hap- 
 piest. 
 
 Some time after. Miss Bellenden, not being terrified 
 by this example, had the prudence to quit the court be- 
 fore she was obliged so to do : the disagreeable Bardou 
 followed her soon after; but for different reasons. Every 
 person was at last completely tired of her saraband, as 
 well as of her face ; and the king, that he might see 
 neither of them any more, gave each a small pension for 
 her subsistence. There now only remained little Mad- 
 emoiselle de la Garde to be provided for : neither her 
 virtues nor her vices were suflSciently conspicuous to 
 occasion her being either dismissed from court or pressed 
 to remain there : God knows what would have become 
 of her, if a Mr. Silvius,* a man who had nothing of a 
 
 * Afterwards Sir Gabriel Silvius. In Chamberlayne's Anglice Notitia, 
 1669, Gabriel de Sylviis is put down as one of the carvers to the queen, 
 and Mrs. de Sylviis, one of the six chambriers or dressers to the queen. 
 
246 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, 
 
 Roman in him except the name, had not taken the poor 
 girl to be his wife. 
 
 We have now shown how all these damsels deserved 
 to be expelled, either for their irregularities, or for their 
 ugliness; and yet, those who replaced them found means 
 to make them regretted. Miss Wells only excepted. 
 
 She was a tall girl, exquisitely shaped : she dressed 
 very genteel, walked like a goddess ; and yet, her face, 
 though made like those that generally please the most, 
 was unfortunately one of those that pleased the least : 
 nature had spread over' it a certain careless indolence 
 that made her look sheepish. This gave but a bad 
 opinion of her wit : and her wit had the ill-luck to make 
 good that opinion : however, as she was fresh colored, 
 and appeared inexperienced, the king, whom the fair 
 Stewart did not render over nice as to the perfections of 
 the mind, resolved to try whether the senses would not 
 fare better with Miss Wells's person than fine sentiments 
 with her understanding : nor was this experiment at- 
 tended with much difficulty : she was of a loyal family ; 
 and her father having faithfully served Charles the First, 
 she thought it her duty not to revolt against Charles the 
 Second. But this connection was not attended with very 
 advantageous circumstances for herself ; some pretended 
 that she did not hold out long enough, and that she sur- 
 rendered at discretion before she was vigorously attacked; 
 and others said, that His Majesty complained of certain 
 other facilities still less pleasing. The Duke of Buck- 
 ingham made a couplet upon this occasion, wherein the 
 king, speaking to Progers, the confidant of his intrigues, 
 puns upon the name of the fair one, to the following 
 purport : 
 
 He was afterwards knighted, and, 30th February, 1680, was sent am- 
 bassador to the Dukes of Brunswick and Lunenburgh. Lord Orford 
 says he was a native of Orange, and was attached to the princess-royal, 
 afterwards to the Duk*" "*" York. He also says he was sent ambassador 
 to Denmark. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 247 
 
 "When the king felt the horrible depth of this Well, 
 Tell me, Progers,* cried Charlie, where am I ? oh tell ! 
 Had I sought the world's centre to find, I had found it, 
 But this Well ! ne'er a plummet was made that could sound it." 
 
 Miss Wells, notwithstanding this species of anagram 
 
 * Edward Progers, Esq., was a younger son of Philip Progers, Esq., 
 of the family of Garreddin, in Monmouthshire. His father was a 
 colonel in the army, and equerry to James I. Edward was early in- 
 troduced to court, and, after having been page to Charles I., was made 
 groom of the bed-chamber to his son, while Prince of Wales. He 
 attached himself to the king's interest during the war with the par- 
 liament, with laudable fidelity. The following letter, from which 
 antiquaries may derive the minute information that Charles II. did 
 wear mourning for a whole year for his father, serves to show the fa- 
 miliar style which Charles used to Progers, as well as his straitened 
 circumstances while in the island of Jersey. 
 
 "Progers, I wold have you (besides the embroidred sute) bring me a 
 plaine ridding suite, with an innocent coate, the suites I have for horse- 
 backe being so spotted and spoiled that they are not to be seene out of 
 this island. The lining of the coate, and the petit toies are referred to 
 your greate discretion, provided there want nothing when it comes to be 
 put on. I doe not remember there was a belt, or a hat-band, in your 
 directions for the embroidred suite, and those are so necessarie as you 
 must not forget them. 
 
 "Jearsey, 14th Jan. old stile, 1649. Charges R." 
 
 "For Mr. Progers." 
 
 By a letter from Cowley to Henry Bennet, datgd i8th November, 1650, 
 Mr. Progers appears to have been then active in his master's service. — 
 Brown's Miscellanea Aulica, 1702, p. 153. In the lampoons of the 
 times, particularly in those of Andrew Marvell, Mr. Progers is de- 
 scribed as one devoted to assist his master's pleasures ; for which reason, 
 perhaps, he was banished from the king's presence in 1650, by an act of 
 the estates of Scotland, " as an evil instrument and bad counsellor of the 
 king." He is said to have obtained several grants to take effect upon 
 the restoration : but it does not appear that they took effect. In 1660, 
 he was named, says Lord Orford, one of the knights of the royal oak, 
 an order the king then intended to institute. By the same authority we 
 are informed that he had permission from the king to build a houSe in 
 Bushy Park, near ^ampton Court, on condition that, after his death, it 
 should revert to the crown. This was the house inhabited by the late 
 Earl of Halifax. He represented the county of Brecon in parliament for 
 seventeen years, but retired in 1679. On the death of his master, he 
 
248 MEMOIRS OF COtrNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 upon her name, and these remarks upon her person, 
 shone the brightest among her new companions. These 
 were Miss Levingston, Miss Fielding, and Miss Boynton, 
 who little deserve to be mentioned in these memoirs ; 
 therefore we shall leave them in obscurity until it please 
 fortune to draw them out of it. 
 
 This was the new establishment of maids of honor 
 to the queen. The Duchess of York, nearly about the 
 same time, likewise recruited hers ; but showed, by a 
 happier and more brilliant choice, that England pos- 
 sessed an inexhaustible stock of beauties. But before 
 we begin to speak of them, let us see who were the first 
 maids of honor to her Royal Highness, and on what 
 account they were removed. 
 
 Besides Miss Blague and Miss Price, whom we have 
 before mentioned, the establishment was composed of 
 Miss Bagot and Miss Hobart, the president of the com- 
 munity. 
 
 Miss Blague, who never knew the true reason of het 
 quarrel with the Marquis de Brisacier, took it up upon 
 that fatal letter she had received from him, wherein, 
 without acquainting her that Miss Price was to wear the 
 same sort of gloves and yellow riband as herself, he had 
 only complimented her upon her hair, her fair^ com- 
 plexion, and her eyes marcassins. This word she im- 
 agined must signify something particularly wonderful, 
 since her eyes were compared to it ; and being desirous, 
 some time afterwards, to know all the energy of the ex- 
 pression, she asked the meaning of the French word 
 
 retired from public life. Mr. Progers died, says Le Neve, " December 
 31st, or January ist, 1713, aged 96, of the anguisb of cutting teeth, he 
 having cut four new teeth, and had several ready to cut, which so in- 
 flamed his gums, that he died thereof." He was in low circumstances 
 before his death, and applied to King James for relief, with what effect 
 is not known. Mr. Progers had a family by his wife Elizabeth Wells ; 
 and the scandal-bearers of the time remarked, that his eldest daughter 
 Philippa, afterwards Mrs. Croxel, bore a strong resemblance to Charles 
 11. Monumenta Anglicana, 1717, p. 273. 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 249 
 
 marcassin. As there are no wild boars in England, those 
 to whom she addressed herself told her that it signified 
 a young pig. This scandalous simile confirmed her in 
 the belief she entertained of his perfidy. Brisacier, more 
 amazed at her change, than she was offended at his 
 supposed calumny, looked upon her as a woman still 
 more capricious than insignificant, and never troubled 
 
 himself more about her ; but Sir Yarborough, of as 
 
 fair a complexion as herself, made her an offer of 
 marriage in the height of her resentment, and was 
 accepted : chance made up this match, I suppose, as an 
 experiment to try what such a white-haired union would 
 produce. 
 
 Miss Price was witty ; and as her person was not very 
 likely to attract many admirers, which, however, she 
 was resolved to have, she was far from being coy when 
 an occasion offered : she did not so much as make any 
 terms : she was violent in her resentments, as well as in 
 her attachments, which had exposed her to some incon- 
 veniences ; and she had very indiscreetly quarrelled with 
 a young girl whom I/Ord Rochester admired. This 
 connection, which till then had been a secret, she had 
 the imprudence to publish to the whole world, and 
 thereby drew upon herself the most dangerous enemy in 
 the universe : never did any man write with more ease, 
 humor, spirit, and delicacy ; but he was at the same 
 time the most severe satirist. 
 
 Poor Miss Price, who had thus voluntarily provoked 
 his resentment, was daily exposed in some new shape : 
 there was every day some new song or other, the subject 
 of which was her conduct, and the burden her name. 
 How was it possible for her to bear up against these 
 attacks, in a court, where every person was eager to 
 obtain the most insignificant trifle that came from the 
 pen of Lord Rochester? The loss of her lover, and the 
 discovery that attended it, was only wanting to com« 
 plete the persecution that was raised against her. 
 
250 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 About this time died Dongan,* a gentleman of merit, 
 who was succeeded by Durfort, afterwards Earl of 
 Feversham,t in the post of lieutenant of the duke's life 
 guards. Miss Price having tenderly loved him, his 
 death plunged her into a gulf of despair ; but the in- 
 ventory of his effects had almost deprived her of her 
 senses: there was in it a certain little box sealed up on all 
 sides : it was addressed in the deceased's own handwrit- 
 ing to Miss Price ; but instead of receiving it, she had not 
 even the courage to look upon it. The governess 
 
 * The only notice of this person I have anywhere seen, is in the fol- 
 lowing extract of a letter from Sir Richard Fanshaw to Lord Arling- 
 ton, dated 4th June, 1664. — "I ought not, in justice to an honorable, 
 person, to conclude before I acquaint your honor, that I have this day 
 seen a letter, whereby it is certified, from my Lord Dongan, (now at 
 Heres,) that, if there were any ship in Cadiz bound for Tangier, he 
 would go over in her, to do His Majesty what service he could in that 
 garrison ; which, he saith, he fears wants good ofi&cers very much." — 
 Fanshaw's Letters, vol. i., p. 194. 
 
 t Louis de Duras, Earl of Feversham, a native of France, being son 
 of the Buke de Duras, and brother to the last duke of that name, as 
 also to the Duke de Lorge. His mother was sister to the great Turenne, 
 of the princely house of Bouillon. After the restoration he came to 
 England, was naturalized, and behaved with great gallantry in the sea- 
 fight with the Dutch, in 1665. When he first came to England, he 
 bore the name of Durfort, and the title of Marquis of Elancfort. In 
 the 24th, Charles 11. he was created Baron Duras of Holdenby, in the 
 county of Northampton ; and having married Mary, the eldest daughter 
 and co-heir of Sir George Sondes, of Lees Court, in the county of 
 Kent, who had been created Earl of Feversham, the same title was 
 limited to him, and he succeeded to it on the death of his father-in-law. 
 Besides these honors. King Charles preferred him to the command of 
 the third troop of horse guards, afterwards promoted him to the second, 
 and then to the first. In 1679, he was made master of the horse to 
 Queen Katharine, and afterwards lord-chamberlain to Her Majesty. 
 Upon King James's accession he was admitted into the privy council, 
 and was commander-in-chief of the forces sent against the Duke of 
 Monmouth. After the revolution, he continued lord-chamberlain to 
 the queen-dowager, and master of the royal college of St. Katherine's, 
 near the Tower. He died April 8th, 1709, aged 68, and was buried in 
 the Savoy, in the Strand, I<ondon ; but removed, March 21st, 1740, to 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 251 
 
 thought it became her in prudence to receive it, on Miss 
 Price's refusal, and her duty to deliver it to the duchess 
 herself, supposing it was filled with many curious and 
 precious commodities, of which perhaps she might make 
 some advantage. Though the duchess was not alto- 
 gether of the same opinion, she had the curiosity to see 
 what was contained in a box sealed up in a manner so 
 particularly careful, and therefore caused it to be opened 
 in the presence of some ladies, who happened then to be 
 in her closet. 
 
 All kinds of love trinkets were found in it; and all 
 these favors, it appeared, came from the tender-hearted 
 Miss Price. It was difficult to comprehend how a single 
 person could have furnished so great a collection ; for, 
 besides counting the pictures, there was hair of all de- 
 scriptions, wrought into bracelets, lockets, and into a 
 thousand other different devices, wonderful to see. After 
 these were three or four packets of letters, of so tender a 
 nature, and so full of raptures and languors so naturally 
 expressed, that the duchess could not endure the reading 
 of any more than the two first. 
 
 Her Royal Highness was sorry that she had caused 
 the box to be opened in such good company ; for being 
 before such witnesses, she rightly judged it was impossi- 
 ble to stifle this adventure; and, at the same time, there 
 being no possibility of retaining any longer such a maid 
 of honor, Miss Price had her valuables restored to her, 
 with orders to go and finish her lamentations, or to 
 console herself for the loss of her lover, in some other 
 place. 
 
 Miss Hobart's character was at that time as uncommon 
 in England, as her person was singular, in a country 
 where, to be young, and not to be in some degree hand- 
 some, is a reproach ; she had a good shape, rather a bold 
 air, and a great deal of wit, which was well cultivated, 
 without having much discretion. She was likewise pos- 
 sessed of a great deal of vivacity, with an irregular fancy; 
 
252 MEMOIRS OF COTTNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 there was a great deal of fire in her eyes, which, however, 
 produced no effect upon the beholders: and she had a ten- 
 der heart, whose sensibility some pretended was alone 
 in favor of the fair sex. 
 
 Miss Bagot * was the first that gained her tenderness 
 and affection, which she returned at first with equal 
 warmth and sincerity; but perceiving that all her friend- 
 ship was insufficient to repay that of Miss Hobart, she 
 yielded the conquest to the governess's niece, who 
 thought herself as much honored by it as her aunt 
 thought herself obliged by the care she took of the young 
 girl. 
 
 It was not long before the report, whether true or false, 
 of this singularity, spread through the whole court, 
 where people, being yet so uncivilized as never to have 
 heard of that kind of refinement in love of ancient Greece, 
 imagined that the illustrious Hobart, who seemed so par- 
 ticularly attached to the fair sex, was in reality some- 
 thing more than she appeared to be. 
 
 * Elizabeth, daughter of Hervey Bagot, second son of Sir Hervey 
 Bagot. She married first Charles Berkley, Earl of Falmouth, and, 
 after his death, Charles Sackville, who became the first Duke of Dorset. 
 From the pen of a satirist much dependence is not to be placed for the 
 truth of facts. This lady's character is treated by Dryden and Mul' 
 grave with very little respect, in the following lines, extracted from 
 "The Essay on Satire : " 
 
 " Thus Dorset, purring like a thoughtful cat. 
 Married ; but wiser puss ne'er thought of that : 
 And first he worried her with railing rhyme, 
 Like Pembroke's mastiffs at his kindest time ; 
 Then for one night sold all his slavish life, 
 A teeming widow, but a barren wife ; 
 Swell'd by contact of such a fulsome toad, 
 He lugged about the matrimonial load ; 
 Till fortune, blindly kind as well as he, 
 Has ill restored him to his liberty ; 
 Which he would use in his old sneaking way, 
 Drinking all night, and dozing all the day ; 
 Dull as Ned Howard, whom his brisker times 
 Had famed for dulness in malicious rhymes." 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONI'. 253 
 
 Satirical ballads soon began to compliment her upon 
 these new attributes ; and upon the insinuations that 
 were therein made, her companions began to fear her. 
 The governess, alarmed at these reports, consulted I/ord 
 Rochester upon the danger to which her niece was ex- 
 posed. She could not have applied to a fitter person : 
 be immediately advised her to take her niece out of the 
 hands of Miss Hobart, and contrived matters so well that 
 she fell into his own. The duchess, who had too much 
 generosity not to treat as visionary what was imputed to 
 Miss Hobart, and too much justice to condemn her upon 
 the faith of lampoons, removed her from the society of 
 the maids of honor, to be an attendant upon her own 
 person. 
 
 Miss Bagot was the only one who was really possessed 
 of virtue and beauty among these maids of honor : she 
 had beautiful and regular features, and that sort of brown 
 complexion, which, when in perfection, is so particularly 
 fascinating, and more especially in England, where it is 
 uncommon. There was an involuntary blush almost 
 continually upon her cheek, without having anything 
 to blush for. I^ord Falmouth cast his eyes upon her : 
 his addresses were better received than those of Miss 
 Hobart, and some time after Cupid raised her from the 
 post of maid of honor to the duchess to a rank which 
 might have been envied by all the young ladies in 
 England. 
 
 The Duchess of York, in order to form her new court, 
 resolved to see all the young persons that offered them- 
 selves, and, without any regard to recommendations, to 
 choose none but the handsomest. 
 
 At the head of this new assembly appeared Miss Jen- 
 nings and Miss Temple ; and indeed they so entirely 
 eclipsed the other two, that we shall speak of them only. 
 
 Miss Jennings, * adorned with all the blooming treas- 
 
 * This lady was one of the daughters and co-heiresses of Richard Jen- 
 
254 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 ures of youth, had the fairest and brightest complexion 
 that ever was seen : her hair was of a most beauteous flaxen : 
 there was something particularly lively and animated 
 in her countenance, which preserved her from that in- 
 sipidity which is frequently an attendant on a complexion 
 so fair. Her mouth was not the smallest, but it was the 
 handsomest mouth in the world. Nature had endowed 
 her with all those charms which cannot be expressed, 
 and the graces had given the finishing stroke to them. 
 The turn of her face was exquisitely fine, and her swell- 
 ing neck was as fair and as bright as her face. In a word, 
 her person gave the idea of Aurora, or the goddess of the 
 spring, "such as youthful poets fancy when they love." 
 But as it would have been unjust that a single person 
 should have engrossed all the treasures of beauty without 
 any defect, there was something wanting in her hands 
 and arms to render them worthy of the rest: her nose was 
 
 nings, Esq., of Sundridge, in tlie county of Hertford, and elder sister 
 to the celebrated Duchess of Marlborough. Her name was Frances. 
 She married George Hamilton, mentioned in these Memoirs ; and after 
 his death, took to her second husband, Richard Talbot, already men- 
 tioned, created Duke of Tyrconnel by James II. , whose fortunes he fol- 
 lowed. Lord Melfort, secretary to that prince, appears to have con- 
 ceived no very favorable opinion of this lady ; for in a letter to his 
 master, dated October, 1689, he says, " there is one other thing, if it 
 could be effectuated, were of infinite use ; which is the getting the 
 Duchess of Tyrconnel, for her health, to come into France. I did not 
 know she had been so well known here as she is ; but the terms they 
 give her, and which, for your service, I may repeat unto you, is, that 
 she has (I'&me la plus noire qui se puisse concevoir). I think it would 
 help to keep that peace so necessary for you, and prevent that cabal- 
 ling humor which has very ill effects." — Macpherson's State Papers, 
 vol. i. In 1699 she is mentioned in a letter from the Earl of Man- 
 chester to Lord Jersey, as one of the needy Jacobites of King James's 
 court, to whom 3,000 crowns, part of that monarch's pension, had been 
 distributed. — Coles's State Papers, p. 53. In 1705 she was in England, 
 and had an interview with her brother-in-law, the Duke of Marlbor- 
 ough, with whose family she seems not to have lived in any terms of 
 cordiality. — Macpherson, vol. i. In the latter part of her life she re- 
 sided in Ireland, and died there, 6th March, 1 730-1, at a very advanced 
 age. — She was buried in the cathedral of St. Patrick's. 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 255 
 
 not the most elegant, and her eyes gave some relief, 
 whilst her mouth and her other charms pierced the heart 
 with a thousand darts. 
 
 With this amiable person she was full of wit and 
 sprightliness, and all her actions and motions were un- 
 affected and easy : her conversation was bewitching, 
 when she had a mind to please : piercing and delicate 
 when disposed to raillery ; but as her imagination was 
 
 MISS TEMPLE. 
 
 subject to flights, and as she began to speak frequently 
 before she had done thinking, her expressions did not 
 always convey what she wished ; sometimes exceeding, 
 and at others falling short of her ideas. 
 
 Miss Temple,* nearly of the same age, was brown 
 
 * Anne, daughter of Thomas Temple of Frankton, in the county of 
 Warwick ; by Rebecca, daughter of Sir Nicholas Carew, of BeddingtoUj 
 in Surrey, knight. She afterwards became the second wife of Sir 
 Charles Lyttelton, by whom she had five sous, aad eight daughters. 
 
256 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 compared with the other : she had a good shape, fine 
 teeth, languishing eyes, a fresh complexion, an agree- 
 able smile, and a lively air. Such was the outward 
 form ; but it would be difficult to describe the rest ; for 
 she was simple and vain, credulous and suspicious, co- 
 quettish and prudent, very self-sufficient and very silly. 
 
 As soon as these new stars appeared at the duchess's 
 court, all eyes were fixed upon them, and every one 
 formed some design upon one or other of them, some with 
 honorable, and others with dishonest intentions. Miss 
 Jennings soon distinguished herself, and left her com- 
 panions no other admirers but such as remained constant 
 from hopes of success : her brilliant charms attracted 
 at first sight, and the charms of her wit secured her con- 
 quests. 
 
 The Duke of York having persuaded himself that she 
 was part of his property, resolved to pursue his claim by 
 the same title whereby his brother had appropriated to 
 himself the favors of Miss Wells ; but he did not find her 
 inclined to enter into his service, though she had engaged 
 in that of the duchess. She would not pay any attention 
 to the perpetual ogling with which he at first attacked 
 her. Her eyes were always wandering on other objects, 
 when those of his Royal Highness were looking for 
 them ; and if by chance he caught any casual glance, 
 she did not even blush. This made him resolve to 
 change his manner of attack : ogling having proved 
 ineffectual, he took an opportunity to speak to her ; and 
 this was still worse. I know not in what strain he told 
 his case ; but it is certain the oratory of the tongue was 
 not more prevailing than the eloquence of his eyes. 
 
 Miss Jennings had both virtue and pride, and the pro- 
 posals of the duke were consistent with neither the one 
 nor the other. Although from her great vivacity one 
 
 She was grandmotlier of the first Lord Lyttelton ; and died 27th August, 
 i7i§. Her husband, Sir Charles Lyttelton, lived to the advanced age 
 of 86 years ; and died at Hagley, May 2d, 1716. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 25*7 
 
 might suppose that she was not capable of much reflec- 
 tion, yet she had furnished herself with some very salu- 
 tary maxims for the conduct of a young person of her 
 age. The first was, that a lady ought to be young to 
 enter the court with advantage, and not old to leave it 
 with a good grace : that she could not maintain herself 
 there but by a glorious resistance, or by illustrious 
 foibles : and that, in so dangerous a situation, she ought 
 to use her utmost endeavors not to dispose of her heart 
 until she gave -her hand. 
 
 Entertaining such sentiments, she had far less trouble 
 to resist the duke's temptations, than to disengage her- 
 self from his perseverance : she was deaf to all treaties 
 for a settlement, with which her ambition was sounded : 
 and all oflFers of presents succeeded still worse. What 
 was then to be done to conquer an extravagant virtue 
 that would not hearken to reason ? He was ashamed to 
 suffer a giddy young girl to escape, whose inclinations 
 ought in some manner to correspond with the vivacity 
 that shone forth in all her actions, and who nevertheless 
 thought proper -to be serious when no such thing as 
 seriousness was required of her. 
 
 After he had attentively considered her obstinate be- 
 havior, he thought that writing might perhaps succeed, 
 though ogling, speeches, and embassies had failed. 
 Paper receives everything, but it unfortunately happened 
 that she would not receive the paper. Every day billets, 
 containing the tenderest expressions, and most magnifi- 
 cent promises, were slipped into her pockets, or into her 
 muff: this, however, could not be done unperceived ; 
 and the malicious little gipsy took care that those who 
 saw them slip in should likewise see them fall out, un- 
 perused and unopened ; she only shook her muff, or 
 pulled out her handkerchief ; as soon as ever his back 
 was turned, his billets fell about her like hailstones, and 
 whoever pleased might take them up. The duchess was 
 frequently a witness of this conduct, but could not find 
 17 
 
268 MEMOIRS OI' COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 in her heart to chide her for her want of respect to the 
 duke. After this, the charms and prudence of Miss 
 Jennings were the only subjects of conversation in the 
 two courts : the courtiers could not comprehend how a 
 young creature, brought directly from the country to 
 court, should so soon become its ornament by her attrac- 
 tions, and its example by her conduct. 
 
 The king was of opinion that those who had attacked 
 her had ill-concerted their measures ; for he thought it 
 unnatural that she should neither be tempted by prom- 
 ises, nor gained by importunity : she, especially, who in 
 all probability had not imbibed such severe precepts 
 from the prudence of her mother, who had never tasted 
 anything more delicious than the plums and apricots of 
 Saint Albans.* Being resolved to try her himself, he 
 was particularly pleased with the great novelty that ap- 
 peared in the turn of her wit, and in the charms of her 
 person ; and curiosity, which at first induced him to 
 make the trial, was soon changed into a desire of suc- 
 ceeding in the experiment. God knows what might 
 have been the consequence, for he greatly excelled in 
 wit, and besides he was king : two qualities of no small 
 consideration. The resolutions of the fair Jennings were 
 commendable, and very judicious ; but yet she was won- 
 derfully pleased with wit ; and royal majesty prostrate 
 at the feet of a young person, is very persuasive. Miss 
 Stewart, however, would not consent to the king's pro- 
 ject. 
 
 She immediately took the alarm, and desired His 
 Majesty to leave to the duke, his brother, the care of 
 tutoring the duchess's maids of honor, and only to attend 
 to the management of his own flock, unless His Majesty 
 would in return allow her to listen to certain proposals 
 of a settlement which she did not think disadvantageous. 
 
 * This town is in the neighborhood of Sundridge, where Miss Jen- 
 nings's family resided. 
 
MEMOIRS Oil* COUNT GRAMMONT. 259 
 
 This menace being of a serious nature, the king obeyed ; 
 and Miss Jennings had all the additional honor which 
 arose from this adventure : it both added to her reputa- 
 tion, and increased the number of her admirers. Thus 
 she continued to triumph over the liberties of others 
 without ever losing her own : her hour was not yet 
 come, but it was not far distant; the particulars of which 
 we shall relate as soon as we have given some account 
 of the conduct of her companion. 
 
 Though Miss Temple's person was particularly engag- 
 ing, it was nevertheless eclipsed by that of Miss Jen- 
 nings ; but she was still more excelled by the other's 
 superior mental accomplishments. Two persons, very 
 capable to impart understanding, had the gift been com- 
 municable, undertook at the same time to rob her of the 
 little she really possessed : these were Lord Rochester 
 and Miss Hobart : the first began to mislead her by read- 
 ing to her all his compositions, as if she alone had been 
 a proper judge of them. He never thought proper to 
 flatter her upon her personal accomplishments ; but told 
 her that if heaven had made him susceptible of the im- 
 pressions of beauty, it would not have been possible for 
 him to have escaped her chains ; but not being, thank 
 God, aiFected with anything but wit, he had the happi- 
 ness of enjoying the most agreeable conversation in the 
 world without running any risk. After so sincere a con- 
 fession, he either presented to her a copy of verses, or a 
 new song, in which whoever dared to come in competi- 
 tion in any respect with Miss Temple was laid prostrate 
 before her charms, most humbly to solicit pardon : such 
 flattering insinuations so completely turned her head 
 that it was a pity to see her. 
 
 The duchess took notice of it, and well knowing the 
 extent of both their geniuses, she saw the precipice into 
 which the poor girl was running headlong without per- 
 ceiving it : but as it is no less dangerous to forbid a con- 
 nection that is not yet thought of, than it is difficult to 
 
''SO MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 put an end to one that is already well established, Miss 
 Hobart was charged to take care, with all possible dis- 
 cretion, that these frequent and long conversations might 
 not be attended with any dangerous consequences : with 
 pleasure she accepted the commission, and greatly flat- 
 tered herself with success. 
 
 She had already made all necessary advances to gain 
 possession of her confidence and friendship ; and Miss 
 Temple, less suspicious of her than of I/ord Rochester, 
 made all imaginable returns. She was greedy of praise, 
 and loved all manner of sweetmeats, as much as a child 
 of nine or ten years old : her taste was gratified in both 
 these respects. Miss Hobart having the superintendence 
 of the duchess's baths, her apartment joined them, in 
 which there was a closet stored with all sorts of sweet- 
 meats and liqueurs : the closet suited Miss Temple's 
 taste, as exactly as it gratified Miss Hobart' s inclination, 
 to have something that could allure her. 
 
 Summer, being now returned, brought back with it 
 the pleasures and diversions that are its inseparable at- 
 tendants. One day when the ladies had been taking the 
 air on horseback. Miss Temple, on her return from riding, 
 alighted at Miss Hobart' s, in order to recover her fatigue 
 at the expense of the sweetmeats, which she knew were 
 there at her service ; but before she began she desired 
 Miss Hobart' s permission to undress herself and change 
 her linen in her apartment; which request was immedi- 
 ately complied with: "I was just going to propose it to 
 you," said Miss Hobart, " not but that you are as charm- 
 ing as an angel in your riding habit, but there is nothing 
 so comfortable as a loose dress, and being at one's ease : 
 you cannot imagine, my dear Temple, ' ' continued she, 
 embracing her, ' ' how much you oblige me by this free, 
 unceremonious conduct; but, above all, I am enchanted 
 with your particular attention to cleanliness: how greatly 
 you differ in this, as in many other things, from that silly 
 creature, Jennings ! Have you remarked how all our 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 261 
 
 court fops admire her for her brilliant complexion, which 
 perhaps, after all, is not wholly her own ; and for blun- 
 ders, which are truly original, and which they are such 
 fools as to mistake for wit: I have not conversed with her 
 long enough to perceive in what her wit consists; but of 
 this I am certain, that if it is not better than her feet, it 
 is no great matter. What stories have I heard of her 
 sluttishness ! No cat ever dreaded water so much as she 
 does: fie upon her ! Never to wash for her own comfort, 
 and only to attend to those parts which must necessarily 
 be seen, such as the neck and han4s. ' ' 
 
 Miss Temple swallowed all this with even greater 
 pleasure than the sweetmeats; and the ofiicious Hobart, 
 not to lose time, was helping her off with her clothes, 
 while the chambermaid was coming. She made some 
 objections to this at first, being unwilling to occasion 
 that trouble to a person, who, like Miss Hobart, had 
 been advanced to a place of dignity ; but she was over- 
 ruled by her, and assured that it was with the greatest 
 pleasure she showed her that small mark of civility. 
 The collation being finished, and Miss Temple undressed: 
 "Let us retire," said Miss Hobart, "to the bathing- 
 closet, where we may enjoy a little conversation secure 
 from any impertinent visit." Miss Temple consented, 
 and both of them sitting down on a couch: "You are too 
 young, my dear Temple," said she, "to know the baseness 
 of men in general, and too short a time acquainted with 
 the court to know the character of its inhabitants. I will 
 give you a short sketch of the principal persons, to the 
 best of my knowledge, without injury to any one, for I 
 abominate the trade of scandal. 
 
 ' ' In the first place, then, you ought to set it down as 
 an undoubted fact that all courtiers are deficient either 
 in honesty, good sense, judgment, wit, or sincerity; that 
 is to say, if any of them by chance possess some one of 
 these qualities, you may depend upon it he is defective 
 in the rest : sumptuous in their equipages, deep play, a 
 
262 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 great opinion of their own merit, and contempt of that 
 of others, are their chief characteristics. 
 
 "Interest or pleasure are the motives of all their ac- 
 tions: those who are led by the first would sell God Al- 
 mighty, as Judas sold his Master, and that for less money. 
 I could relate you a thousand notable instances of this, if 
 I had time. As for the sectaries of pleasure, or those who 
 pretend to be such, for they" are not all so bad as they en- 
 deavor to make themselves appear, these gentlemen pay 
 no manner of regard either to promises, oaths, law, or 
 religion; that is to say, they are literally no respecters of 
 persons; they care neither for God nor man, if they can 
 but gain their ends. They look upon maids of honor only 
 as amusements, placed expressly at court for their enter- 
 tainment; and the more merit any one has, the more she 
 is exposed to their impertinence, if she gives any ear to 
 them; and to their malicious calumnies, when she ceases 
 to attend to them. As for husbands, this is not the place 
 to find them ; for unless money or caprice make up the 
 match, there is but little hopes of being married : virtue 
 and beauty in this respect here are equally useless. 
 Lady Falmouth is the only instance of a maid of honor 
 well married without a portion; and if you were to ask 
 her poor weak husband for what reason he married her, 
 I am persuaded that he can assign none, unless it be her 
 great red ears and broad feet. As for the pale Lady 
 Yarborough, who appeared so proud of her match, she is 
 wife, to be sure, of a great country bumpkin, who, the 
 very week after their marriage, bid her take her farewell 
 of the town forever, in consequence of five or six thou- 
 sand pounds a year he enjoys on the borders of Cornwall. 
 Alas ! poor Miss Blague ! I saw her go away about this 
 time twelvemonth, in a coach with four such lean horses, 
 that I cannot believe she is yet halfway to her miserable 
 little- castle. What can be the matter ! all the girls seem 
 afiiicted with the rage of wedlock, and however small 
 their portion of charms may be, they think it only nee- 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 263 
 
 essary to show themselves at court in order to pick and 
 choose their men : but was this in reality the case, the 
 being a wife is the most wretched condition imaginable 
 for a person of nice sentiments. Believe me, my dear 
 Temple, the pleasures of matrimony are so inconsiderable 
 in comparison with its inconveniences, that I cannot 
 imagine how any reasonable creature can resolve upon 
 it: rather fly, therefore, from this irksome engagement 
 than court it. Jealousy, formerly a stranger to these 
 happy isles, is now coming into fashion, with many re- 
 cent examples of which you are acquainted. However 
 brilliant the phantom may appear, suffer not yourself to 
 be caught by its splendor, and never be so weak as to 
 transform your slave into your tyrant : as long as you 
 preserve your own liberty, you will be mistress of that of 
 others. I will relate to you a very recent proof of the 
 perfidy of man to our sex, and of the impunity they ex- 
 perience in all attempts upon our innocence. The Earl 
 of Oxford * fell in love with a handsome, graceful actress 
 belonging to the duke's theatre, who performed to per- 
 fection, particularly the part of Roxana, in a very fash- 
 
 * This was Aubrey de Vere, the last Earl of Oxford of that name, 
 and the twentieth and last earl of that family. He was chief justice in 
 eyre ; and in the reign of Charles II., lord of the bed-chamber, privy 
 councillor, colonel of the royal regiment of horse guards, and lord- 
 lieutenant of the county of Essex ; and lieutenant-general of the forces 
 in the reign of William III., and also knight of the garter. He died 
 March 12, 1702, aged 80 years and upwards, and was buried in West- 
 minster Abbey. The author of a History of the English Stage, published 
 by Curl, 1741, 8vo., says, that Mrs. Marshall, a celebrated actress, more 
 known by the name of Roxana, from acting that part, was the person 
 deceived by the Earl of Oxford in this manner. The particulars of the 
 story, as there related, do not materially vary from the present account 
 of the transaction. A more detailed narrative of this seduction is 
 given in Madame Dunois's Memoirs of the Court of England, part ii., 
 p. 71. Mrs. Marshall, who was the original Roxana in Ijce's Rival 
 Queens, belonged not to the duke's, but the king's theatre. Lord 
 Orford, I know not on what authority, has given the name of Mrs. Bar- 
 ker to this lady ; a name totally unknown, I believe, in the annals of 
 the stage. 
 
264 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 ionable new play, insomuch that she ever after retained 
 that name : this creature being both very virtuous and 
 very modest, or if you please, wonderfully obstinate, 
 proudly rejected the addresses and presents of the Earl 
 of Oxford. This resistance inflamed his passion : he had 
 recourse to invectives, and even to spells; but all in vain. 
 This disappointment had such an efiect upon him that 
 he could neither eat nor drink ; this did not signify to 
 him; but his passion at length became so violent, that he 
 could neither play nor smoke. In this extremity love 
 had recourse to Hymen ; the Earl of Oxford, one of the 
 first peers of the realm, is, you know, a very handsome 
 man: he is of the order of the garter, which greatly adds 
 to an air naturally noble. In short, from his outward 
 appearance, you would suppose he was really possessed 
 of some sense ; but as soon as ever you hear him speak, 
 you are perfectly convinced of the contrary. This pas- 
 sionate lover presented her with a promise of marriage, 
 in due form, signed with his own hand : she would not, 
 however, rely upon this, but the next day she thought 
 there could be no danger, when the earl himself came 
 to her lodgings attended by a clergyman, and another 
 man for a witness : the marriage was accordingly solem- 
 nized with all due ceremonies, in the presence of one of 
 her fellow-players, who attended as a witness on her 
 part. You will suppose, perhaps, that the new countess 
 had nothing to do but to appear at court according to 
 her rank, and to display the earl's arms upon her carriage. 
 This was far from being the case. When examination 
 was made concerning the marriage, it was found to be a 
 mere deception ; it appeared that the pretended priest 
 was one of my lord's trumpeters, and the witness his 
 kettle-drummer. The parson and his companion never 
 appeared after the ceremony was over; and as for the 
 other witness, they endeavored to persuade her, that the 
 Sultana Roxana might have supposed, in some part or 
 other of a play, that she was really married. It was all 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT, 265 
 
 to no purpose, that the poor creature claimed the protec- 
 tion of the laws of God and man, both which were vio- 
 lated and abused, as well as herself, by this infamous 
 imposition ; in vain did she throw herself at the king's 
 feet to demand justice: she had only to rise up again 
 without redress ; and happy might she think herself to 
 receive an annuity of one thousand crowns, and to resume 
 the name of Roxana, instead of Countess of Oxford. 
 You will say, perhaps, that she was only a player ; that 
 all men have not the same sentiments as the earl ; and, 
 that one may at least believe them, when they do but 
 render justice to such merit as yours. But still do not 
 believe them, though I know you are liable to it, as you 
 have admirers; for all are not infatuated with Miss Jen- 
 nings: the handsome Sidney ogles you ; Lord Rochester 
 is delighted with your conversation; and the most serious 
 
 Sir Lyttelton forsakes his natural gravity in favor 
 
 of your charms. As for the first, I confess his figure is 
 very likely to engage the inclinations of a young person 
 like yourself ; but were his outward form attended with 
 other accomplishments, which I know it is not, and that 
 his sentiments in your favor were as real as he endeavors 
 to persuade you they are, and as you deserve, yet I 
 would not advise you to form any connections with him, 
 for reasons which I cannot tell you at present. 
 
 "Sir Lyttelton * is undoubtedly in earnest, since 
 
 he appears ashamed of the condition to which you have 
 reduced him ; and I really believe if he could get the 
 better of those vulgar chimerical apprehensions, of being 
 what is vulgarly called a cuckold, the good man would 
 marry you, and you would be his representative in his 
 little government, where you might merrily pass your 
 days in casting up the weekly bills of housekeeping and 
 in darning old napkins. What a glory would it be to 
 have a Cato for a husband, whose speeches are as many 
 
 *Sir Charles Lyttelton : of whom see note on p. 255. 
 
266 MEMOIRS OF COtTN'!' GRAMMONT. 
 
 lectures, and whose lectures are composed of nothing but 
 ill-nature and censure ! 
 
 ' ' Lord Rochester is, without contradiction, the most 
 witty man in all England ; but then he is likewise the 
 most unprincipled, and devoid even of the least tincture 
 of honor ; he is dangerous to our sex alone ; and that to 
 such a degree that there is not a woman who gives ear 
 to him three times but she irretrievably loses her reputa- 
 tion. No woman can escape him, for he has her in his 
 writings, though his other attacks be ineffectual ; and in 
 the age we live in, the one is as bad as the other in the 
 eye of the public. In the meantime nothing is more 
 dangerous than the artful, insinuating manner with 
 which he gains possession of the mind: he applauds your 
 taste, submits to your sentiments, and at the very instant 
 that he himself does not believe a single word of what 
 he is saying, he makes you believe it all. I dare lay a 
 wager, that from the conversation you have had with 
 him, you thought him one of the most honorable and 
 sincerest men living; for my part I cannot imagine what 
 he means by the assiduity he pays you : not but your 
 accomplishments are sufficient to excite the adoration 
 and praise of the whole world ; but had he even been so 
 fortunate as to have gained your affections, he would not 
 know what to do with the loveliest creature at court: for 
 it is a long time since his debauches have brought him 
 to order, with the assistance of the favors of all the com- 
 mon street-walkers. See then, my dear Temple, what 
 horrid malice possesses him, to the ruin and confusion 
 of innocence ! A wretch ! to have no other design in his 
 addresses and assiduities to Miss Temple, but to give a 
 greater air of probability to the calumnies with which 
 he has loaded her. You look upon me with astonish- 
 ment, and seem to doubt the truth of what I advance ; 
 but I do not desire you to believe me without evidence : 
 Here," said she, drawing a paper out of her pocket, "see 
 what a copy of verses he has made in your praise, while 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONT. 267 
 
 he lulls your credulity to rest, by flattering speeches and 
 feigned respect." 
 
 After saying this, the perfidious Hobart showed her 
 half-a-dozen couplets full of strained invective and scan- 
 dal, which Rochester had made against the former maids 
 of honor. This severe and cutting lampoon was prin- 
 cipally levelled against Miss Price, whose person he 
 took to pieces in the most frightful and hideous manner 
 imaginable. Miss Hobart had substituted the name of 
 Temple instead of Price, which she made to agree both 
 with the measure and tune of the song. This effectually 
 answered Hobart' s intentions : the credulous Temple no 
 sooner heard her sing the lampoon, but she firmly be- 
 lieved it to be made upon herself ; and in the first trans- 
 ports of her rage, having frothing so much at heart as to 
 give the lie to the fictions of the poet : ' ' Ah ! as for this, 
 my dear Hobart, ' ' said she, ' ' I can bear it no longer : I 
 do not pretend to be so handsome as some others ; but 
 as for the defects that villain charges me with, I dare 
 say, my dear Hobart, there is no woman more free fr<?m 
 them : we are alone, and I am almost inclined to con- 
 vince you by ocular demonstration. ' ' Miss Hobart was 
 too complaisant to oppose this motion ; but, although 
 she soothed her mind by extolling all her beauties, in 
 opposition to Lord Rochester's song. Miss Temple was 
 almost driven to distraction by rage and astonishment, 
 that the first man she ever attended to should, in his 
 conversation with her, not even make use of a single 
 word of truth, but that he should likewise have the un- 
 paralleled cruelty falsely to accuse her of defects ; and 
 not being able to find words capable of expressing her 
 anger and resentment, she began to weep like a child. 
 
 Miss Hobart used all her endeavors to comfort her, 
 and chid her for being so much hurt with the invectives 
 of a person whose scandalous impostures were too well 
 known to make any impression : she, however, advised 
 her never to speak to him any more, for that was the 
 
268 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 only method to disappoint his designs ; that contempt 
 and silence were, on such occasions, much preferable to 
 any explanation, and that if he could once obtain a hear- 
 ing, he would be justified, but she would be ruined. 
 
 Miss Hobart was not wrong in giving her this counsel : 
 she knew that an explanation would betray her, and that 
 there would be no quarter for her if I^ord Rochester had 
 so fair an opportunity of renewing his former panegyrics 
 upon her; but her precaution was in vain: this conversa- 
 tion had been heard from one end to the other by the 
 governess's niece, who was blessed with a most faithful 
 memory; and having that very day an appointment with 
 Lord Rochester, she conned it over three or four times, 
 that she might not forget one single word, when she 
 should have the honor of relating it to her lover. We 
 shall show in the next chapter what were the conse- 
 quences resulting from it. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 The conversation before related was agreeable only 
 to Miss Hobart; for if Miss Temple was entertained with 
 its commencement, she was so much the more irritated 
 by its conclusion : this indignation was succeeded by the 
 curiosity of knowing the reason why, if Sidney had a 
 real esteem for her, she should not be allowed to pay 
 some attention to him. The tender-hearted Hobart, un- 
 able to refuse her any request, promised her this piece 
 of confidence, as soon as she should be secure of her 
 conduct towards L,ord Rochester : for this she only de- 
 sired a trial of her sincerity for three days, after which 
 she assured her she would acquaint her with everything 
 she wished to know. Miss Temple protested she no 
 longer regarded lyord Rochester but as a monster of per- 
 fidiousness, and vowed, by all that was sacred, that she 
 would never listen to him, much less speak to him, as 
 long as she lived. 
 
 As soon as they retired from the closet, Miss Sarah 
 came out of the bath, where, during all this conversa- 
 tion, she had been almost perished with cold, without 
 daring to complain. This little gipsy had, it seems, 
 obtained leave of Miss Hobart' s woman to bathe herself 
 unknown to her mistress ; and having, I know not how, 
 
 (269) 
 
270 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 found means to fill one of the baths with cold water, 
 Miss Sarah had just got into it, when they were both 
 alarmed with the arrival of the other two. A glass par- 
 tition enclosed the room where the baths were, and In- 
 dian silk curtains, which drew on the inside, screened 
 those that were bathing. Miss Hobart's chamber-maid 
 had only just time to draw these curtains, that the girl 
 might not be seen to lock the partition door, and to 
 take away the key, before her mistress and Miss Temple 
 came in. 
 
 These two sat down on a couch placed along the par- 
 tition, and Miss Sarah, notwithstanding her alarms, had 
 distinctly heard, and perfectly retained the whole con- 
 versation. As the little girl was at all this trouble to 
 make herself clean, only on I,ord Rochester's account, 
 as soon as ever she could make her escape she regained 
 her garret ; where Rochester, having repaired thither at 
 the appointed hour, was fully informed of all that had 
 passed in the bathing-room. He was astonished at the 
 audacious temerity of Hobart in daring to put such a 
 trick upon him ; but, though he rightly judged that love 
 and jealousy were the real motives, he would not excuse 
 her. I^ittle Sarah desired to know whether he had a 
 real affection for Miss Temple, as Miss Hobart said she 
 supposed that was the case. ' ' Can you doubt it, ' ' replied 
 he, ' ' since that oracle of sincerity has affirmed it ? But 
 then you know that I am not now capable of profiting 
 by my perfidy, were I even to gain Miss Temple's com- 
 pliance, since my debauches and the street-walkers have 
 brought me to order. ' ' 
 
 This answer made Miss Sarah very easy, for she con- 
 cluded that the first article was not true, since she knew 
 from experience that the latter was false. Lord Roches- 
 ter was resolved that very evening to attend the duchess's 
 court, to see what reception he would meet with after 
 the fine portrait Miss Hobart had been so kind as to draw 
 of him. Miss Temple did »not fail to be there likewise. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 271 
 
 with the intention of looking on him with the most con- 
 temptuous disdain possible, though she had taken care 
 to dress herself as well as she could. As she supposed 
 that the lampoon Miss Hobart had sung to her was in 
 everybody's possession, she was under great embarrass- 
 ment lest all those whom she met should think her such 
 a monster as L,ord Rochester had described her. In the 
 meantime, Miss Hobart, who had not much confidence 
 in her promises never more to speak to him, narrowly 
 watched her. Miss Temple never in her life appeared so 
 handsome : every person complimented her upon it ; but 
 she received all the civilities with such an air, that every 
 one thought she was mad ; for when they commended 
 her shape, her fresh complexion, and the brilliancy of 
 her eyes : " Pshaw ! " said she, "it is very well known 
 that I am but a monster, and formed in no respect like 
 other women : all is not gold that glisters : and though 
 I may receive some compliments in public, it signifies 
 nothing." All Miss Hobart's endeavors to stop her 
 tongue were ineffectual ; and continuing to rail at her- 
 self ironically, the whole court was puzzled to compre- 
 hend her meaning. 
 
 When Lord Rochester came in, she first blushed, then 
 turned pale, made a motion to go towards him, drew 
 back again, pulled her gloves one after the other up to 
 the elbow ; and after having three times violently flirted 
 her fan, she waited until he paid his compliments to her 
 as usual, and as soon as he began to bow, the fair one 
 immediately turned her back upon him. Rochester only 
 smiled, and being resolved that her resentment should 
 be still more remarked, he turned round and posting 
 himself face to face : "Madam," said he, "nothing can 
 be so glorious as to look so charming as you do, after 
 such a fatiguing day : to support a ride of three long 
 hours, and Miss Hobart afterwards, without being tired, 
 shows indeed a very strong constitution. ' ' 
 
 Miss Temple had naturally a tender look, but she was 
 
272 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 transported with such a violent passion at his having 
 the audacity to speak to her, that her eyes appeared like 
 two fireballs when she turned them upon him. Hobart 
 pinched her arm, as she perceived that this look was 
 likely to be followed by a torrent of reproaches and in- 
 vectives. 
 
 Ivord Rochester did not wait for them, and delaying 
 until another opportunity the acknowledgments he owed 
 Miss Hobart, he quietly retired. The latter, who could 
 not imagine that he knew anything of their conversation 
 at the bath, was, however, much alarmed at what he had 
 said ; but Miss Temple, almost choked with the re- 
 proaches with which she thought herself able to confound 
 him and which she had not time to give vent to, vowed 
 to ease her mind of them upon the first opportunity, not- 
 withstanding the promise she had made ; but never more 
 to speak to him afterwards. 
 
 Lord Rochester had a faithful spy near these nymphs : 
 this was Miss Sarah, who, by his advice, and with her 
 aunt's consent, was reconciled with Miss Hobart, the 
 more effectually to betray her : he was informed by this 
 spy, that Miss Hobart' s maid, being suspected of having 
 listened to them in the closet, had been turned away ; 
 that she had taken another, whom in all probability she 
 would not keep long, because, in the first place, she was 
 ugly, and, in the second, she eat the sweetmeats that 
 were prepared for Miss Temple. Although this intelli- 
 gence was not very material, Sarah was nevertheless 
 praised for her punctuality and attention ; and a few 
 days afterwards she brought him news of real impor- 
 tance. 
 
 Rochester was by her informed, that Miss Hobart and 
 her new favorite designed, about nine o'clock in the 
 evening to walk in the Mall, in the Park ; that they were 
 to change clothes with each other, to put on scarfs, and 
 wear black masks ; she added, that Miss Hobart had 
 strongly opposed this project, but that she was obliged 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 273 
 
 to give way at last, Miss Temple having resolved to in- 
 dulge her fancy. 
 
 Upon the strength of this intelligence, Rochester con- 
 certed his measures : he went to Killegrew, complained 
 to him of the trick which Miss Hobart had played him, 
 and desired his assistance in order to be revenged : this 
 was readily granted, and having acquainted him with 
 the measures he intended to pursue, and given him the 
 part he was to act in this adventure, they went to the 
 Mall. 
 
 Presently after appeared our two nymphs in masquer- 
 ade : their shapes were not very different, and their 
 faces, which were very unlike each other, were con- 
 cealed with their masks. The company was but thin in 
 the Park ; and as soon as Miss Temple perceived them 
 at a distance, she quickened her pace in order to join 
 them, with the design, under her disguise, severely to 
 reprimand the perfidious Rochester ; when Miss Hobart 
 stopping her : " Where are you running to?" said she ; 
 ' ' have you a mind to engage in conversation with these 
 two devils, to be exposed to all the insolence and imper- 
 tinence for which they are so notorious?" These re- 
 monstrances were entirely useless : Miss Temple was re- 
 solved to try the experiment : and all that could be ob- 
 tained from her was, not to answer any of the questions 
 Rochester might ask her. 
 
 They were accosted just as they had done speaking : 
 Rochester fixed upon Hobart, pretending to take her for 
 the other ; at which she was overjoyed ; but Miss Tem- 
 ple was extremely sorry she fell to Killegrew's share, 
 with whom she had nothing to do : he perceived her 
 uneasiness, and, pretending to know her by her clothes : 
 "Ah ! Miss Hobart," said he, "be so kind as look this 
 way if you please : I know not by what chance you both 
 came hither, but I am sure it is very apropos for you, 
 since I have something to say to you, as your friend and 
 humble servant. ' ' 
 18 
 
274 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 This beginning raising her curiosity, Miss Temple ap- 
 peared more inclined to attend him; and Killegrew, 
 perceiving that the other couple had insensibly proceeded 
 some distance from them : "In the name of God," said 
 he, "what do you mean by railing so against I^ord 
 Rochester, whom you know to be one of the most honor- 
 able men at court, and whom you nevertheless described 
 as the greatest villain to the person whom of all others 
 he esteems and respects the most ? What do you think 
 would become of you, if he knew that you made Miss 
 Temple believe that she is the person alluded to in a cer- 
 tain song, which you know as well as myself was made 
 upon the clumsy Miss Price, above a year before the fair 
 Temple was heard of? Be not surprised that I know so 
 much of the matter, but pay a little attention, I pray you, 
 to what I am now going to tell you out of pure friend- 
 ship : your passion and inclinations for Miss Temple are 
 known to every one but herself ; for whatever methods 
 you used to impose upon her innocence, the world does her 
 the justice to believe that she would treat you as L,ady 
 Falmouth did, if the poor girl knew the wicked designs 
 you had upon her : I caution you, therefore, against 
 making any further advances to a person too modest to 
 listen to them : I advise you likewise to take back your 
 maid again, in order to silence her scandalous tongue ; 
 for she says everywhere that she is with child, that you 
 are the occasion of her being in that condition, and ac- 
 cuses you of behaving towards her with the blackest 
 ingratitude, upon trifling suspicions only: you know 
 very well, these are no stories of my own invention ; but 
 that you may not entertain any manner of doubt, that I 
 had all this from her own mouth ; she has told me your 
 conversation in the bathing-room ; the characters you 
 there drew of the principal men at court ; your artful 
 malice in applying so improperly a scandalous song to 
 one of the loveliest women in all England ; and in what 
 manner the innocent girl fell into the snare you had laid 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 275 
 
 for her, in order to do justice to her charms. But that 
 which might be of the most fatal consequences to you in 
 that long conversation, is the revealing certain secrets, 
 which, in all probability, the duchess did not entrust 
 you with, to be imparted to the maids of honor : reflect 
 upon this, and neglect not to make some reparation to 
 
 Sir L,yttelton, for the ridicule with which you were 
 
 pleased to load him. I know not whether he had his 
 information from your femme-de-chambre, but I am very 
 certain that he has sworn he will be revenged, and he is 
 a man that keeps his word ; for after all, that you may 
 not be deceived by his look, like that of a Stoic, and his 
 gravity, like that of a judge, I must acquaint you, that 
 he is the most passionate man living. Indeed, these in- 
 vectives are of the blackest and most horrible nature : he 
 says it is most infamous, that a wretch like yourself 
 should find no other employment than to blacken the 
 characters of gentlemen to gratify your jealousy; that if 
 you do not desist from such conduct for the future, he 
 will immediately complain of you; and that if her Royal 
 Highness will not do him justice, he is determined to do 
 himself justice, and to run you through the body with 
 his own sword, though you were even in the arms of 
 Miss Temple, and that it is most scandalous that all the 
 maids of honor should get into your hands before they 
 can look around them. 
 
 "These things, madam, I thought it my duty to ac- 
 quaint you with : you are better able to judge than my- 
 self, whether what I have now advanced be true, and I 
 leave it to your own discretion to make what use you 
 think proper of my advice ; but were I in your situa- 
 tion, I would endeavor to reconcile lyord Rochester and 
 Miss Temple. Once more I recommend to you to take 
 care that your endeavors to mislead her innocency, in 
 order to blast his honor, may not come to his knowledge; 
 and do not estrange from her a man who tenderly loves 
 her, and whose probity is so great, that he would not 
 
276 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 even suffer his eyes to wander towards her, if his inten- 
 tion was not to make her his wife. ' ' 
 
 Miss Temple observed her promise most faithfully dur- 
 ing this discourse: she did not even utter a single syllable, 
 being seized with such astonishment and confusion, that 
 she quite lost the use qf her tongue. 
 
 Miss Hobart and Lord Rochester came up to her, 
 while she was still in amazement at the wonderful dis- 
 coveries she had made; things in themselves, in her 
 opinion, almost incredible, but to the truth of which she 
 could not refuse her assent, upon examining the evi- 
 dences and circumstances on which they were founded. 
 Never was confusion equal to that with which her whole 
 frame was seized by the foregoing recital. 
 
 Rochester and Killegrew took leave of them before 
 she recovered from her surprise; but as soon as she had 
 regained the free use of her senses, she hastened back to 
 St. James, without answering a single question that the 
 other put to her ; and having locked herself up in her 
 chamber, the first thing she did, was immediately to strip 
 oflFMiss Hobart's clothes, lest she should be contaminated 
 by them ; for after what she had been told concerning 
 her, she looked upon her as a monster, dreadful to the 
 innocence of the fair sex, of whatever sex she might be ; 
 she blushed at the familiarities she had been drawn into 
 with a creature, whose maid was with child, though she 
 never had been in any other service but hers: she there- 
 fore returned her all her clothes, ordered her servant to 
 bring back all her own, and resolved never more to have 
 any connection with her. Miss Hobart, on the other 
 hand, who supposed Killegrew had mistaken Miss Tem- 
 ple for herself, could not comprehend what could induce 
 her to give herself such surprising airs, since that conver- 
 sation; but being desirous to come to an explanation, she 
 ordered Miss Temple's maid to remain in her apartments, 
 and went to call upon Miss Temple herself, instead of 
 sending back her clothes; and being desirous to give her 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 277 
 
 some proof of friendship before tliey entered upon expos- 
 tulations, she slipped softly into her chamber, when she 
 was in the very act of changing her linen, and embraced 
 her. Miss Temple finding herself in her arms before she 
 had taken notice of her, everything that Killegrew had 
 mentioned, appeared to her imagination: she fancied 
 that she saw in her looks the eagerness of a satyr, or, if 
 possible, of some monster still more odious; and disengag- 
 ing herself with the highest indignation from her arms, 
 she began to shriek and cry in the most terrible manner, 
 calling both heaven and earth to her assistance. 
 
 The first whom her cries raised were the governess 
 and her niece. It was near twelve o'clock at night : 
 Miss Temple in her shift, almost frightened to death, 
 was pushing back with horror Miss Hobart, who ap- 
 proached her with no other intent than to know the 
 occasion of these transports. As soon as the governess 
 saw this scene, she began to lecture Miss Hobart with 
 all the eloquence of a real duenna: she demanded of her, 
 whether she thought it was for her that her Royal High- 
 ness kept the maids of honor? whether she was not 
 ashamed to come at such an unseasonable time of night 
 into their very apartments to commit such violences? 
 and swore that she would, the very next day, complain 
 to the duchess. All this confirmed Miss Temple in her 
 mistaken notions: and Hobart was obliged to go away at 
 last, without being able to convince or bring to reason 
 creatures, whom she believed to be either distracted or 
 mad. The next day Miss Sarah did not fail to relate 
 this adventure to her lover, telling him how Miss Tem- 
 ple's cries had alarmed the maids of honor's apartment, 
 and how herself and her aunt, running to her assistance, 
 had almost surprised Miss Hobart in the very act. 
 
 Two days after, the whole adventure, with the addition 
 of several embellishments, was made public : the gover- 
 ness swore to the truth of it, and related in every com- 
 pany what a narrow escape Miss Temple had experi- 
 
278 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 enced, and that Miss Sarah, her niece, had preserved 
 her honor, because, by L,ord Rochester's excellent 
 advice, she had forbidden her all manner of connection 
 with so dangerous a person. Miss Temple was after- 
 wards informed, that the song that had so greatly pro- 
 voked her alluded to Miss Price only : this was con- 
 firmed to her by every person, with additional execrations 
 against Miss Hobart, for such a scandalous imposition. 
 Such great coldness after so much familiarity, made 
 many believe, that this adventure was not altogether a 
 fiction. 
 
 This had been sufficient to have disgraced Miss Hobart 
 at court, and to have totally ruined her reputation in 
 London, had she not been, upon the present, as well as 
 upon a former occasion, supported by the duchess : her 
 Royal Highness pretended to treat the whole story as 
 romantic and visionary, or as solely arising from private 
 pique: she chid Miss Temple, for her impertinent 
 credulity : turned away the governess and her niece, for 
 the lies with which she pretended they supported the 
 imposture ; and did many improper things in order to 
 re-establish Miss Hobart' s honor, which, however, she 
 failed in accomplishing. She had her reasons for not 
 entirely abandoning her, as will appear in the sequel. 
 
 Miss Temple, who continually reproached herself 
 with injustice, with respect to I^ord Rochester, and who, 
 upon the faith of Killegrew's word, thought him the 
 most honorable man in England, was only solicitous to 
 find out some opportunity of easing her mind, by making 
 him some reparation for the rigor with which she had 
 treated him : these favorable dispositions, in the hands 
 of a man of his character, might have led to conse- 
 quences of which she was not aware ; but heaven did not 
 allow him an opportunity of profiting by them. 
 
 Ever since he had first appeared at court he seldom 
 failed being banished from it, at least once in the year ; 
 for whenever a word presented itself to his pen, or to 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOnT, 279 
 
 his tongue, lie immediately committed it to paper, or 
 produced it in conversation, without any manner of re- 
 gard to the consequences ; the ministers, the mistresses, 
 and even the king himself, were frequently the subjects 
 of his sarcasms ; and had not the prince, whom he thus 
 treated, been possessed of one of the most forgiving and 
 gentle tempers, his first disgrace had certainly been his 
 last. 
 
 Just at the time that Miss Temple was desirous of 
 seeing him, in order to apologize for the uneasiness 
 which the infamous calumnies and black aspersions of 
 Miss Hobart had occasioned both of them, he was forbid 
 the court for the third time : he departed without having 
 seen Miss Temple, carried the disgraced governess down 
 with him to his country seat, and exerted all his en- 
 deavors to cultivate in her niece some dispositions which 
 she had for the stage ; but though she did not make the 
 same improvement in this line, as she had by his other 
 instructions, after he had entertained both the niece and 
 the aunt for some months in the country, he got her 
 entered in the king's company of comedians the next 
 winter; and the public was obliged to him for the 
 prettiest, but at the same time, the worst actress in the 
 kingdom. * 
 
 * Though no name is given to this lady, there are circumstances 
 enough mentioned to fix on the celebrated Mrs. Barry, as the person 
 intended by the author. Mrs. Barry was introduced to the stage by 
 Lord Rochester, with whom she had an intrigue, the fruit of which was 
 a daughter, who lived to the age of thirteen years, and is often men- 
 tioned in his collection of love-letters, printed in his works, which were 
 written to Mrs. Barry. On her first theatrical attempts, so little hopes 
 were entertained of her, that she was, as Gibber declares, discharged from 
 the company at the end of the first year, among others that were thought 
 to be a useless expense to it. She was well born ; being daughter of 
 Robert Barry, Esq., barrister at law ; a gentleman of an ancient family 
 and good estate, who hurt his fortune by his attachment to Charles I. ; 
 for whom he raised a regiment at his own expense. Tony Aston, in his 
 Supplement to Gibber's Apology, says, she was woman to lady Shelton 
 of Norfolk, who might have belonged to the court. Curl, however, says, 
 
280 MEMOIRS OV COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 About this time Talbot returned from Ireland: lie 
 soon felt the absence of Miss Hamilton, who was then in 
 the country with a relation, whom we shall mention 
 hereafter. A remnant of his former tenderness still 
 subsisted in his heart, notwithstanding his absence, and 
 the promises he had given the Chevalier de Grammont 
 at parting : he now therefore endeavored to banish her 
 entirely from his thoughts, by fixing his desires upon 
 some other object ; but he saw no ones in the queen's 
 new court whom he thought worthy of his attention : 
 Miss Boynton, * however, thought him worthy of hers. 
 
 she was early taken under the patronage of Lady Davenant. Botli these 
 accounts may be true. The time of her appearance on the stage was 
 probably not much earlier than 1671 ; in which year she performed in 
 Tom Essence, and was, it may be conjectured, about the age of nineteen. 
 Curl mentions the great pains taken by Lord Rochester in instructing 
 her ; which were repaid by the rapid progress she daily made in her 
 profession. She at last eclipsed all her competitors, and in the part of 
 Monimia established her reputation. From her performance in this 
 character, in that of Belvidera, and of Isabella, in the Fatal Marriage, 
 Downes says she acquired the name of the famous Mrs. Barry, both at 
 court and in the city. "Mrs. Barry," says Dryden, in his Preface to 
 Cleomenes, " always excellent, has in this tragedy excelled herself, and 
 gained a reputation beyond any woman I have ever seen on the 
 theatre." " In characters of greatness, " says Cibber, "Mrs. Barry had 
 a presence of elevated dignity ; her mien and motion superb, and grace- 
 fully majestic ; her voice full, clear, and strong ; so that no violence of 
 passion could be too much for her ; and when distress or tenderness 
 possessed her, she subsided into the most affecting melody and softness. 
 In the art of exciting pity, she had a power beyond all the actresses I 
 have yet seen, or what your imagination can conceive. In scenes of 
 anger, defiance, or resentment, while she was impetuous and terrible, 
 she poured out the sentiment with an enchanting harmony ; and it was 
 this particular excellence for which Dryden made her the above-recited 
 compliment, upon her acting Cassandra in his Cleomenes. She was the 
 first person whose merit was distinguished by the indulgence of having 
 an annual benefit play, which was granted to her alone in King James's 
 time, and which did not become common to others till the division of 
 this company, after the death of King William and Queen Mary." — 
 Gibber's Apology, 1750, p. 133. She died 7tli November, 1713, and 
 was buried at Acton. The inscription over her remains says she was 
 55 years of age. 
 * Daughter of Matthew Boynton, second son of Sir Mattbf^w Boynton 
 
MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 281 
 
 Her person was slender and delicate, to which a good 
 complexion and large motionless eyes gave at a distance 
 an appearance of beauty, that vanished upon nearer in- 
 spection : she affected to lisp, to languish, and to have 
 two or three fainting-fits a day. The first time that 
 Talbot cast his eyes upon her she was seized with one 
 of these fits : he was told that she swooned away upon 
 his account : he believed it, was eager to afford her as- 
 sistance ; and ever after that accident showed her some 
 kindness, more with the intention of saving her life, 
 than to express any affection he felt for heir. This seem- 
 ing tenderness was well received, and at first she was 
 visibly affected by it. Talbot was one of the tallest men 
 in England, and in all appearance one of the most ro- 
 bust ; yet she showed sufficiently that she was willing to 
 expose the delicacy of her constitution, to whatever 
 might happen, in order to become his wife ; which event 
 perhaps might then have taken place, as it did after- 
 wards, had not the charms of the fair Jennings at that 
 time, proved an obstacle to her wishes. 
 
 I know not how it came to pass that he had not yet 
 seen her ; though he had heard her much praised, and 
 her prudence, wit, and vivacity equally commended ; he 
 believed all this tlpon the faith of common report. He 
 thought it very singular that discretion and sprightliness 
 should be so intimately united in a person so young, 
 more particularly in the midst of a court where love and 
 gallantry were so much in fashion ; but he found her 
 personal accomplishments greatly to exceed whatever 
 fame had reported of them. 
 
 As it was not long before he perceived he was in love, 
 neither was it long before he made a declaration of it : 
 as his passion was likely enough to be real, Miss Jennings 
 thought she might believe him, without exposing her- 
 
 of Bannston, in Yorkshire. The sister of this lady married the cele- 
 brated Earl of Roscommon. 
 
282 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 self to the imputation of vanity. Talbot was possessed 
 of a fine and brilliant exterior, his manners were noble 
 and majestic : besides this, he was particularly distin- 
 guished by the favor and friendship of the duke ; but his 
 most essential merit, with her, was his forty thousand 
 pounds a-year, landed property, besides his employ- 
 ments. All these qualities came within the rules and 
 maxims she had resolved to follow with respect to lovers: 
 thus, though he had not the satisfaction to obtain from 
 her an entire declaration of her sentiments, he had at 
 least the pleasure of being better received than those 
 who had paid their addresses to her before him. 
 
 No person attempted to interrupt his happiness ; and 
 Miss Jennings, perceiving that the duchess approved of 
 Talbot's pretensions, and after having well weighed the 
 matter, and consulted her own inclinations, found that 
 her reason was more favorable to him than her heart, 
 and that the most she could do for his satisfaction was to 
 marry him without reluctance. 
 
 Talbot, too fortunate in a preference which no man 
 had before experienced, did not examine whether it was 
 to her heart or to her head that he was indebted for it, 
 and his thoughts were solely occupied in hastening the 
 accomplishment of his wishes : one would have sworn 
 that the happy minute was at hand ; but love would no 
 longer be love, if he did not delight in obstructing, or 
 in overturning the happiness of those who live under 
 his dominion. 
 
 Talbot, who found nothing reprehensible either in the 
 person, in the conversation, or in the reputation of Miss 
 Jennings, was however rather concerned at a new 
 acquaintance she had lately formed ; and having taken 
 upon him to give her some cautions upon this subject, 
 she was much displeased at his conduct. 
 
 Miss Price, formerly maid of honor, that had been 
 set aside, as we have before mentioned, upon her leaving 
 the duchess's service, had recourse to I<ady Castlemaine's 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 283 
 
 protection : she had a very entertaining wit : her com- 
 plaisance was adapted to all humors, and her own humor 
 was possessed of a fund of gaiety and sprightliness which 
 diffused universal mirth and merriment wherever she 
 came. Her acquaintance with Miss Jennings was prior 
 to Talbot's. 
 
 As she was thoroughly acquainted with all the in- 
 trigues of the court, she related them without any man- 
 ner of reserve to Miss Jennings, and her own with the 
 same frankness as the others : Miss Jennings was ex- 
 tremely well pleased with her stories ; for though she 
 was determined to make no experiment in love, but upon 
 honorable terms, she however was desirous of knowing 
 from her recitals all the different intrigues that were 
 carrying on : thus, as she was never wearied with her 
 conversation, she was overjoyed whenever she could see 
 her. 
 
 Talbot, who remarked the extreme relish she had for 
 Miss Price's company, thought that the reputation such 
 a woman had in the world might prove injurious to his 
 mistress, more especially from the particular intimacy 
 there seemed to exist between them : whereupon, in the 
 tone of a guardian rather than a lover, he took upon him 
 to chide her for the disreputable company she kept. 
 Miss Jennings was haughty beyond conception, when 
 once she took it into her head ; and as she liked Miss 
 Price's conversation much better than Talbot's, she took 
 the liberty of desiring him ' ' to attend to his own affairs, 
 and that if he only came from Ireland to read lectures 
 about her conduct, he might take the trouble to go back 
 as soon as he pleased. ' ' He was offended at a sally which 
 he thought ill-timed, considering the situation of affairs 
 between them ; and went out of her presence more 
 abruptly than became the respect due from a man 
 greatly in love. He for some time appeared offended ; 
 but perceiving that he gained nothing by such conduct, 
 he grew weary of acting that part, and assumed that of 
 
284 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 an humble lover, in which he was equally unsuccessful ; 
 neither his repentance nor submissions could produce 
 any effect upon her, and the mutinous little gipsy was 
 still in her pouts when Jermyn returned to court. 
 
 It was above a year since he had triumphed over the 
 weakness of Lady Castlemaine, and above two since the 
 king had been weary of his triumphs : his uncle, being 
 one of the first who perceived the king's disgust, obliged 
 him to absent himself from court, at the very time that 
 orders were going to be issued for that purpose ; for 
 though the king's affections for Lady Castlemaine were 
 now greatly diminished, yet he did not think it consistent 
 with his dignity that a mistress, whom he had honored 
 with public distinction, and who still received a con- 
 siderable support from him, should appear chained to 
 the car of the most ridiculous conqueror that ever ex- 
 isted. His Majesty had frequently expostulated with the 
 countess upon this subject : but his expostulations were 
 never attended to ; it was in one of these differences that 
 he, advising her rather to bestow her favors upon Jacob 
 Hall, the rope-dancer, who was able to return them, than 
 lavish away her money upon Jermyn to no purpose, since 
 it would be more honorable for her to pass for the mis- 
 tress of the first, than for the very humble servant of the 
 other, she was not proof against his raillery. The im- 
 petuosity of her temper broke forth like lightning : she 
 told him " that it very ill became him to throw out such 
 reproaches against one who, of all the women in Eng- 
 land, deserved them the least ; that he had never ceased 
 quarrelling thus unjustly with her, ever since he had be- 
 trayed his own mean, low inclinations ; that to gratify 
 such a depraved taste as his, he wanted only such silly 
 things as Stewart, Wells, and that pitiful strolling ac- 
 tress,* whom he had lately introduced into their so- 
 ciety." Floods of tears, from rage, generally attended 
 
 * Probably Nell Gwyn. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 285 
 
 these storms ; after which, resuming the part of Medea, 
 the scene closed with menaces of tearing her children in 
 pieces and setting his palace on fire. What course could 
 he pursue with such an outrageous fury, who, beautiful 
 as she was, resembled Medea less than her dragons, when 
 she was thus enraged ! 
 
 , The indulgent monarch loved peace; and as he seldom 
 contended for it on these occasions without paying some- 
 thing to obtain it, he was obliged to be at great expense, 
 in order to reconcile this last rupture : as they could not 
 agree of themselves, and both parties equally complained, 
 the Chevalier de Grammont was chosen, by mutual con- 
 sent, mediator of the treaty. The grievances and pre- 
 tensions on each side were communicated to him, and 
 what is very extraordinary, he managed so as to please 
 them both. Here follow the articles of peace which they 
 agreed to : 
 
 "That Lady Castlemaine should forever abandon 
 Jermyn ; that as a proof of her sincerity, and the reality 
 of his disgrace, she should consent to his being sent, for 
 some time, into the country ; that she should not rail 
 any more against Miss Wells, nor storm any more against 
 Miss Stewart; and this without any restraint on the king's 
 behavior towards her: that in consideration of these con- 
 descensions, his majesty should immediately give her 
 the title of duchess,* with all the honors and privileges 
 thereunto belonging, and an addition to her pension, in 
 order to enable her to support the dignity." 
 
 As soon as this peace was proclaimed, the political 
 critics, who, in all nations, never fail to censure all state 
 proceedings, pretended that the mediator of this treaty, 
 being every day at play with I^ady Castlemaine, and 
 never losing, had, for his own sake, insisted a little too 
 strongly upon this last article. 
 
 * The title of Duchess of Cleveland was conferred on her 3d August, 
 22 Charles II., 1670. 
 
286 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Some days after, she was created Duchess of Cleve- 
 land, and little Jermyn repaired to his country-seat : 
 however, it was in his power to have returned in a fort- 
 night ; for the Chevalier de Grammont, having procured 
 the king's permission, carried it to the Earl of St. Al- 
 bans : this revived the good old man ; but it was to little 
 purpose he transmitted it to his nephew ; for whether he 
 wished to make the London beauties deplore and lament 
 his absence, or whether he wished them to declaim 
 against the injustice of the age, or rail against the 
 tyranny of the prince, he continued above half a year in 
 the country, setting up for a little philosopher, under 
 the eyes of the sportsmen in the neighborhood, who re- 
 garded him as an extr? ordinary instance of the caprice 
 of fortune. He thought the part he acted so glorious, 
 that he would have continued there much longer had he 
 not heard of Miss Jennings : he did not, however, pay 
 much attention to what his friends wrote to him con- 
 cerning her charms, being persuaded he had seen equally 
 as great in others : what was related to him of her pride 
 and resistance appeared to him of far greater conse- 
 quence ; and to subdue the last, he even looked upon as 
 an action worthy of his prowess ; and quitting his re- 
 treat for this purpose, he arrived in London at the time 
 that Talbot, who was really in love, had quarrelled, in 
 his opinion, so unjustly with Miss Jennings. 
 
 She had heard Jermyn spoken of as a hero in affairs of 
 love and gallantry. Miss Price, in the recital of those 
 of the Duchess of Cleveland, had often mentioned him, 
 without in any respect diminishing the insignificancy 
 with which fame insinuated he had conducted himself 
 in those amorous encounters : she nevertheless had the 
 greatest curiosity to see a man, whose entire person, she 
 thought, must be a moving trophy, and monument of 
 the favors and freedoms of the fair sex. 
 
 Thus Jermyn arrived at the right time to satisfy her 
 curiosity by his presence; and though his brill, ancy 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 287 
 
 appeared a little tarnished by his residence in the coun- 
 try; though his head was larger and his legs more 
 slender than usual, yet the giddy girl thought she had 
 never seen any man so perfect; and yielding to her 
 destiny, she fell in love with him, a thousand times 
 more unaccountably than all the others had done before 
 her. Everybody remarked this change of conduct in her 
 with surprise ; for they expected something more from 
 the delicacy of a person who, till this time, had be- 
 haved with so much propriety in all her actions. 
 
 Jermyn was not in the least surprised at this conquest, 
 though not a little proud of it ; for his heart had very 
 soon as great a share in it as his vanity. Talbot, who 
 saw with amazement the rapidity of this triumph, and 
 the disgrace of his own defeat, was ready to die with 
 jealousy and spite ; yet he thought it would be more to 
 his credit to die than to vent those passions unprofitably; 
 and shielding himself under a feigned indifference, he 
 kept at a distance to view how far such an extravagant 
 prepossession would proceed. 
 
 In the meantime Jermyn quietly enjoyed the happi- 
 ness of seeing the inclinations of the prettiest and most 
 extraordinary creature in England declared in his fa- 
 vor. The duchess, who had taken her under her pro- 
 tection ever since she had declined placing herself under 
 that of the duke, sounded Jermyn' s intentions towards 
 her, and was satisfied with the assurances she received 
 from a man, whose probity infinitely exceeded his merit 
 in love: he therefore let all the court see that he was 
 willing to marry her, though, at the same time, he did 
 not appear particularly desirous of hastening the con- 
 summation. Every person now complimented Miss 
 Jennings upon having reduced to this situation the 
 terror of husbands and the plague of lovers : the court 
 was in full expectation of this miracle, and Miss Jen- 
 nings of a near approaching happy settlement : but in 
 this world one must have fortune in one's favor, before 
 one can calculate with certaintyupon happiness. 
 
288 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 The king did not use to let Lord Rochester remain so 
 long in exile: he grew weary of it, and being displeased 
 that he was forgotten, he posted up to London to wait 
 till it might be His Majesty's pleasure to recall him. 
 
 He first took up his habitation in the city, among the 
 capital tradesmen and rich merchants, where politeness 
 indeed is not so much cultivated as at court ; but where 
 pleasure, luxury, and abundance reign with less confu- 
 sion, and more sincerity. His first design was only to 
 be initiated into the mysteries of those fortunate and 
 happy inhabitants: that is to say, by changing his name 
 and dress, to gain admittance to their feasts and enter- 
 tainments; and, as occasion offered, to those of their 
 loving spouses; as he was able to adapt himself to all 
 capacities and humors, he soon deeply insinuated him- 
 self into the esteem of the substantial wealthy aldermen, 
 and into the aflFections of their more delicate, magnificent, 
 and tender ladies: he made one in all their feasts, and at 
 all their assemblies ; and, whilst in the company of the 
 husbands, he declaimed against the faults and mistakes 
 of government, he joined their wives in railing against 
 the profligacy of the court ladies, and in inveighing 
 against the king's mistresses : ^he agreed with them that 
 the industrious poor were to pay for these cursed extrav- 
 agances; that the city beauties were not inferior to those 
 of the other end of the town, and yet a sober husband in 
 this quarter of the town was satisfied with one wife ; 
 after which, to out-do their murmurings, he said, that 
 he wondered Whitehall was not yet consumed by fire 
 from heaven, since such rakes as Rochester, Killegrew, 
 and Sidney were sufiered there, who had the impudence 
 to assert that all married men in the city were cuckolds, 
 and all their wives painted. This conduct endeared him 
 so much to the cits, and made him so welcome at their 
 clubs, that at last he grew sick of their cramming and 
 endless invitations. 
 
 But, instead of approaching nearer the court, he 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 289 
 
 retreated into one of the most obscure corners of the city; 
 where, again changing both his name and dress, in order 
 to act a new part, he caused bills to be dispersed, giving 
 notice of ' ' The recent arrival of a famous German doc- 
 tor,* who, by long application and experience, had 
 found out wonderful secrets, and infallible remedies." 
 His secrets consisted in knowing what was past, and 
 foretelling what was to come, by the assistance of astrol- 
 ogy: and the virtue of his remedies principally consisted 
 in giving present relief to unfortunate young women 
 in all manner of diseases, and all kinds of accidents inci- 
 dent to the fair sex, either from too unbounded charity 
 to their neighbors, or too great indulgence to them- 
 selves. 
 
 His first practice being confined to his neighborhood, 
 was not very considerable ; but his reputation soon 
 extending to the other end of the town, there pres- 
 ently flocked to him the women attending on the 
 court, next, the chambermaids of ladies of quality, 
 who, upon the wonders they related concerning the 
 German doctor, were soon followed by some of their 
 mistresses. 
 
 Among all the compositions of a ludicrous and satir- 
 ical kind, there never existed any that could be compared 
 to those of I^ord Rochester, either for humor, fire, or 
 wit; but, of all his works, the most ingenious and enter- 
 
 * Bishop Burnet confirms this account. — "Being under an unlucky 
 accident, which obhged him to keep out of the way, he disguised him- 
 self so, that his nearest friends could not have known him, and set up 
 in Tower Street for an Italian mountebank, where he practised physic 
 for some weeks, not without success. In his latter years he read books 
 of history more. He took pleasure to disguise himself as a porter, or 
 as a beggar, sometimes to follow some mean amours, which, for the 
 variety of them, he affected. At other times, merely for diversion, he 
 would go about in odd shapes ; in which he acted his part so naturally, 
 that even those who were in the secret, and saw him in these shapes, 
 could perceive nothing by which he might be discovered." — Bumefi 
 Life of Rochester, ed. 1774, p. 14. 
 19 
 
290 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 taining is that which contains a detail of the intrigues 
 and adventures in which he was engaged while he pro- 
 fessed medicine and astrology in the suburbs of lyondon. 
 
 The fair Jennings was very near getting a place 
 in this collection; but the adventure that prevented 
 her from it, did not, however, conceal from the public 
 her intention of paying a visit to the German doctor. 
 
 The first chambermaids that consulted him were only 
 those of the maids of honor; who had numberless ques- 
 tions to ask, and not a few doubts to be resolved, both 
 on their own and their mistresses' accounts. Notwith- 
 standing their disguise, he recognized some of them, 
 particularly Miss Temple's and Miss Price's maids, and 
 her whom Miss Hobart had lately discarded: these 
 creatures all returned either filled with wonder and 
 amazement, or petrified with terror and fear. Miss 
 Temple's chambermaid deposed that he assured her she 
 would have the small-pox, and her mistress the great, 
 within two months at the farthest, if her aforesaid mis- 
 tress did not guard against a man in woman's clothes. 
 Miss Price's woman affirmed that, without knowing her, 
 and only looking in her hand, he told her at first sight, 
 that, according to the course of the stars, he perceived 
 that she was in the service of some good-natured lady, 
 who had no other fault than that of loving wine and 
 men. In short, every one of them, struck with some 
 particular circumstance relating to their own private 
 affairs, had either alarmed or diverted their mistresses 
 with the account, not failing, according to custom, to 
 embellish the truth, in order to enhance the wonder. 
 
 Miss Price, relating these circumstances one day to 
 her new friend, the devil immediately tempted her to go 
 in person, and see what sort of a creature this new magi- 
 cian was. This enterprise was certainly very rash ; but 
 nothing was too rash for Miss Jennings, who was of 
 opinion that a woman might despise appearances, pro- 
 vided she was in reality virtuous. Miss Price was all 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 291 
 
 compliance, and thus having fixed upon this glorious 
 resolution, they only thought of the proper means of 
 putting it into execution. 
 
 It was very difficult for Miss Jennings to disguise her- 
 self, on account of her excessive fair and bright com- 
 plexion, and of something particular in her air and 
 manner : however, after having well considered the 
 matter, the best disguise they could think of was to 
 dress themselves like orange girls. * This was no sooner 
 resolved upon, but it was put in execution : they attired 
 themselves alike, and, taking each a basket of oranges 
 under their arms, they embarked in a hackney coach, 
 and committed themselves to fortune, without any other 
 escort than their own caprice and indiscretion. 
 
 The duchess was gone to the play with her sister : 
 Miss Jennings had excused herself under pretence of in- 
 disposition : she was overjoyed at the happy commence- 
 
 * These frolics appear to have been not unfrequent with persons of 
 high rank at this period. In a letter from Mr. Henshaw to Sir 
 Robert Paston, afterwards Earl of Yarmouth, dated October 13, 1670, 
 we have the following account : " Last week, there being a faire neare 
 Audley-end, the queen, theZ>ukhess of Richmond, and the Dutchess of 
 Buckingham, had a frolick to disguise themselves like country lasses, 
 in red petticotes, wastcotes, &c., and so goe see the faire. Sir Barnard 
 Gascoign, on a cart jade, rode before the queen ; another stranger before 
 the Dutchess of Buckingham ; and Mr. Roper before Richmond. They 
 had all so overdone it in their disguise, and looked so much more like 
 antiques than country volk, that, as soon as they came to the faire, the 
 people began to goe after them ; but the queen going to a booth, to buy 
 a pair <^'^ yellow stockings for her sweet hart, and Sir Bernard asking 
 for a pair of gloves sticht with blew, for his sweet hart, they were soon, 
 by their gebrish, found to be strangers, which drew a bigger flock about 
 them . One amongst them had seen the queen at dinner, knew her, and 
 was proud of her knowledge. This soon brought all the faire into a 
 crowd to stare at the queen. Being thus discovered, they, as soon as 
 they could, got to their horses ; but as many of the faire as had horses 
 got up, with their wives, children, sweet harts, or neighbors, behind 
 them, to get as much gape as they could, till they brought them to the 
 court gate. Thus, by Ul conduct, was a merry frolick turned into a 
 penance." — Ive's Select Papers, p. 39. 
 
292 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 ment of their adventure ; for they had disguised them- 
 selves, had crossed the Park, and taken their hackney 
 coach at Whitehall gate, without the least accident. 
 They mutually congratulated each other upon it, and 
 Miss Price, taking a beginning so prosperous as a good 
 omen of their success, asked her companion what they 
 were to do at the fortune-teller's, and what they should 
 propose to him. 
 
 Miss Jennings told her that, for her part, curiosity was 
 her principal inducement for going thither ; that, how- 
 ever, she was resolved to ask him, without naming any 
 person, why a man, who was in love with a handsome 
 young lady, was not urgent to marry her, since this was 
 in his power to do, and by so doing he would have an 
 opportunity of gratifying his desires. Miss Price told 
 her, smiling, that, without going to the astrologer, noth- 
 ing was more easy than to explain the enigma, as she 
 herself had almost given her a solution of it in the narra- 
 tive of the Duchess of Cleveland's adventures. 
 
 Having by this time nearly arrived at the playhouse, 
 Miss Price, after a moment's reflection, said, that sinc^ 
 fortune favored them, a fair opportunity was now offered 
 to signalize their courage, which was to go and sell 
 oranges in the very playhouse, in the sight of the duchess 
 and the whole court. The proposal being worthy of the 
 sentiments of the one, and of the vivacity of the other, 
 they immediately alighted, paid off their hack, and, 
 running through the midst of an immense number of 
 coaches, with great difficulty they reached the playhouse 
 door. Sidney, more handsome than the beautiful 
 Adonis, and dressed more gay than usual, alighted just 
 then from his coach : Miss Price went boldly up to him, 
 as he was. adjusting his curls ; but he was too much 
 occupied with his own dear self to attend to" anything 
 else, and so passed on without deigning to give her an 
 answer. Killegrew came next, and the fair Jennings, 
 partly encouraged by the other's pertness, advanced 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONT. 293 
 
 towards hitn, and offered him her basket, whilst Price, 
 more used to the language, desired him to buy her fine 
 oranges. "Not now," said he, looking at them with 
 attention ; "but if thovi wilt to-morrow morning bring 
 this young girl to my lodgings, I will make it worth all 
 the oranges in lyondon to thee:" and while he thus 
 spoke to the one he chucked the other under the chin, 
 examining her bosom. These familiarities making little 
 
 MISS PRICE. 
 
 Jennings forget the part she was acting, after having 
 pushed him away with all the violence she was able, she 
 told him with indignation that it was very insolent to 
 dare — "Ha ! ha !" said he, "here's a rarity indeed ! 
 a young w — , who, the better to sell her goods, sets up 
 for virtue, and pretends innocence ! ' ' 
 
 Price immediately perceived that nothing could be 
 gained by continuing any longer in so dangerous a place ; 
 and, taking her companion under the arm, she dragged 
 
294 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 her away, while she was still in emotion at the insult 
 that had been offered to her. 
 
 Miss Jennings, resolving to sell no more oranges on 
 these terms, was tempted to return, without accomplish- 
 ing the other adventure ; but Price having represented 
 to her the disgrace of such cowardly behavior, more 
 particularly after having before manifested so much 
 resolution, she consented to go and pay the astrologer a 
 short visit, so as they might be enabled to regain the 
 palace before the play was ended. 
 
 They had one of the doctor's bills for a direction, but 
 there was no occasion for it ; for the driver of the coach 
 they had taken told them he knew very well the place 
 they wanted, for he had already carried above an hun- 
 dred persons to the German doctor's: they were within 
 half a street of his house, when fortune thought proper 
 to play them a trick. 
 
 Brounker * had dined by chance with a merchant in 
 that part of the city, and just as he was going away they 
 ordered their coach to stop, as ill-luck would have it, 
 just opposite to him. Two orange girls in a hackney 
 coach, one of whom appeared to have a very pretty face, 
 immediately drew his attention; besides, he had a natural 
 curiosity for such objects. 
 
 Of all the men at court, he had the least regard for the 
 
 * Gentleman of the chamber to the Duke of York, and brother to 
 Lord Viscount Brounker, president of the royal society. Lord Claren- 
 don imputes to him the cause of the great sea-fight, in 1665, not being 
 so well improved as it might have been, and adds, " nor did the duke 
 come to hear of it till some years after, when Mr. Brounker's ill course 
 of life, and his abominable nature, had rendered him so odious that it 
 was taken notice of in parliament, and, upon examination, found to be 
 true, as is here related ; upon which he was expelled the house of com- 
 mons, whereof he was a member, as an infamous person, though his 
 friend Coventry adhered to him, and used many indirect acts to have 
 protected him, and afterwards procured him to have more countenance 
 from the king than most men thought he deserved." — Continuation of 
 Clarendon'' s Life, p. 270. 
 
MEMOIRS Oli' COUNf GRAMMOnY. 295 
 
 fair sex, and the least attention to their reputation : he 
 was not young, nor was his person agreeable ; however, 
 with a great deal of wit, he had a violent passion for 
 women. He did himself justice respecting his own 
 merit ; and, being persuaded that he could only succeed 
 with those who were desirous of having his money, he 
 was at open war with all the rest. He had a little 
 country-house four or five miles from L,ondon always 
 well stocked with girls: * in other respects he was a very 
 honest man, and the best chess-player in England. 
 
 Price, alarmed at being thus closely examined by the 
 most dangerous enemy they could encounter, turned her 
 head the other way, bid her companion do the same, and 
 told the coachman to drive on. Brounker followed them 
 unperceived on foot ; and the coach having stopped 
 twenty or thirty yards farther up the street, they 
 alighted. He was just behind them, and formed the 
 same judgment of them which a man much more charit- 
 able to the sex must unavoidably have done, concluding 
 that Miss Jennings was a young courtesan upon the look- 
 out, and that Miss Price was the mother-abbess. He 
 was, however, surprised to see them have much better 
 shoes and stockings than women of that rank generally 
 wear, and that the little orange girl, in getting out of a 
 very high coach, showed one of the handsomest legs he 
 had ever seen : but as all this was no obstruction to his 
 designs, he resolved to purchase her at any rate, in order 
 to place her in his seraglio. 
 
 He came up to them as they were giving their baskets 
 in guard to the coachman, with orders to wait for them 
 exactly in that place. Brounker immediately pushed in 
 between them : as soon as they saw him, they gave them- 
 selves up for lost; but he, without taking the least notice 
 
 ' Brounker, Love's squire, through all the field array'd, 
 No troop was better clad, nor so well paid. 
 
 — Andrew MarveWs Poems, vol. ii., p. 94. 
 
296 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 of their surprise, took Price aside with one hand, and 
 his purse with the other, and began immediately to enter 
 upon business, but was astonished to perceive that she 
 turned away her face, without either answering or look- 
 ing at him : As this conduct appeared to him unnatural, 
 he stared her full in the face, notwithstanding all her 
 endeavors to prevent him : he did the same to the other: 
 and immediately recognised them, but determined to 
 conceal his discovery. 
 
 The old fox possessed a wonderful command of temper 
 on such occasions, and having teazed them a little longer 
 to remove all suspicions he quitted them, telling Price : 
 " That she was a great fool to refuse his offers, and that 
 her girl would not, perhaps, get so much in a year as 
 she might with him in one day ; that the times were 
 greatly changed since the queen's and the duchess's 
 maids of honor forestalled the market, and were to be 
 had cheaper than the town ladies. ' ' Upon this he went 
 back to his coach, whilst they blessed themselves, re- 
 turning heaven their most hearty thanks for having 
 escaped this danger without being discovered. 
 
 Brounker, on the other hand, would not have taken a 
 thousand guineas for this rencounter : he blessed the 
 lyord that he had not alarmed them to such a degree as 
 to frustrate their intention ; for he made no doubt but 
 Miss Price had managed some intrigue for Miss Jennings: 
 he therefore immediately concluded, that at present it 
 would be improper to make known his discovery, which 
 would have answered no other end but to have over- 
 whelmed them with confusion. 
 
 Upon this account, although Jermyn was one of his 
 best friends, he felt a secret joy in not having prevented 
 his being made a cuckold, before his marriage ; and the 
 apprehension he was in of preserving him from that acci- 
 dent was his sole reason for quitting them with the pre- 
 cautions aforementioned. 
 
 Whilst they were under these alarms, their coachman 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 297 
 
 was engaged in a squabble with some blackguard boys 
 who had gathered round his coach in order to steal the 
 oranges: from words they came to blows: the two nymphs 
 saw the commencement of the fray as they were return- 
 ing to the coach, after having abandoned the design of 
 going to the fortune-teller's. 'Their coachman being a 
 man of spirit, it was with great difficulty they could per- 
 suade him to leave their oranges to the mob, that they 
 might get off without any further disturbance : having 
 thus regained their hack, after a thousand frights, and 
 after having received an abundant share of the most low 
 and infamous abuse applied to them during the fracas, 
 they at length reached St. James's, vowing never more 
 to go after fortune-tellers, through so many dangers, 
 terrors and alarms, as they had lately undergone. 
 
 Brounker, who, from the indifferent opinion he enter- 
 tained of the fair sex, would have staked his life that 
 Miss Jennings did not return from this expedition in the 
 same condition she went, kept his thoughts, however, a 
 profound secret ; since it would have afforded him the 
 highest satisfaction to have seen the all-fortunate Jermyn 
 marry a little street- walker, who pretended to pass for a 
 pattern of chastity, that he might, the day after his mar- 
 riage, congratulate him upon his virtuous spouse ; but 
 heaven was not disposed to afford him that satisfaction, 
 as will appear in the sequel of these memoirs. 
 
 Miss Hamilton was in the country, as we before men- 
 tioned, at a relation's : the Chevalier de Gramniont bore 
 this short absence of hers with great uneasiness, since 
 she would not allow him permission to visit her there, 
 upon any pretence whatever; but play, which was 
 favorable to him, was no small relief to his extreme 
 impatience. 
 
 Miss Hamilton, however, at last returned. Mrs. We- 
 tenhall * (for that was the name of her relation) would 
 
 * Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Henry Bedingfield, and wife of Thomas 
 Wetenhall, of Hextall Court, near East Peckham, in the county of 
 
298 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 by all means wait upon her to London, in appearance 
 out of politeness; for ceremony, carried beyond all bear- 
 ing, is tJie grand characteristic of country gentry : yet 
 this mark of civility was only a pretence to obtain a 
 peevish husband's consent to his wife's journey to town. 
 Perhaps he would have done himself the honor of con- 
 ducting Miss Hamilton up to London had he not been 
 employed in writing some remarks upon the ecclesias- 
 tical history, a work in which he had long been engaged : 
 the ladies were more civil than to interrupt him in his 
 undertaking, and besides, it would entirely have discon- 
 certed all Mrs. Wetenhall's schemes. 
 
 This lady was what may be properly called a beauty; 
 entirely English, made up of lilies and roses, of snow 
 and milk, as to color ; and of wax, with respect to the 
 arms, hands, neck, and feet, but all this without either 
 animation or air; her face was uncommonly pretty; but 
 there was no variety, no change of countenance in it : 
 on' would have thought she took it in the morning out 
 Oi . case, in order to put it up again at night, without 
 using it in the smallest degree in the daytime. What 
 can I say of her ! nature had formed her a baby from her 
 infancy, and a baby remained till death the fair Mrs. 
 Wetenhall. Her husband had been destined for the 
 church; but his elder brother dying just at the time he 
 had gone through his studies of divinity, instead of tak- 
 ing orders, he came to England, and took to wife Miss 
 Bedingfield, the lady of whom we are now speaking. 
 
 His person was not disagreeable, but he had a serious 
 contemplative air, very apt to occasion disgust : as for 
 
 Kent : See Collins's Baronetage, p. 216. The family of Whetenhall, 
 or Whetnall, was possessed of the estate of Hextall Court from the 
 time of Henry VIII. until within a few years past, when one of them, 
 Henry Whetenhall, Esq., alienated it to John Fane, Earl of Westmore- 
 land. Of this family was Edward Whetenhall, a celebrated polemical 
 writer, who, in 1678, was consecrated bishop of Corke and Ross. — See 
 Wood's Athenm Oxomensis,\o\. ii., p. 851, 998. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 299 
 
 the rest, she might boast of having one of the greatest 
 theologists in the kingdom for her husband : he was all 
 day poring over his books, and went to bed soon, in 
 order to rise early ; so that his wife found him snoring 
 when she came to bed, and when he arose he left her 
 there sound asleep; his conversation at table would have 
 been very brisk, if Mrs. Wetenhall had been as great a 
 proficient in divinity, or as great a lover of controversy, 
 as he was ; but being neither learned in the former, nor 
 desirous of the latter, silence reigned at their table, as 
 absolutely as at a refectory. 
 
 She had often expressed a great desire to see L,ondon ; 
 but though they were only distant a very short day's 
 journey from it, she had never been able to satisfy her 
 curiosity ; it was not therefore without reason that she 
 grew weary of the life she was forced to lead at Peck- 
 ham. * The melancholy, retired situation of the place 
 was to her insupportable ; and as she had the folly, inci- 
 dent to many other women, of believing sterility tc be a 
 kind of reproach, she was very much hurt to see that she 
 might fall under that suspicion ; for she was persuaded, 
 that although heaven had denied her children, she never- 
 theless had all the necessary requisites on her part, if it 
 had been the will of the lyord. This had occasioned her 
 to make some reflections, and then to reason upon those 
 reflections; as for instance, that since her husband chose 
 rather to devote himself to his studies, than to the 
 duties of matrimony, to turn over musty old books, 
 rather than attend to the attractions of beauty, and to 
 gratify his own pleasures rather than those of his wife, 
 it might be permitted her to relieve some necessitous 
 lover, in neighborly charity, provided she could do it 
 
 * " Peckham is about ten miles off Tunbridge Wells. Sir William 
 Twisden has an ancient mansion here, which has been long in that 
 family." — Burr's History of Tunbridge Wells, 8vo., 1766, p. 237. Mr. 
 Hasted says, the estate was purchased by Sir William Twisden of Henry 
 Wheteuhall, Esq. — Hasted' s Kent, vol. ii., p. 274. 
 
300 MEMOIRS OE COUNT* GRAMMONT. 
 
 conscientiously, and to direct her inclinations in so just 
 a manner, that the evil spirit should have no concern in 
 it. Mr. Wetenhall, a zealous partisan for the doctrine of 
 the casuists, would not perhaps have approved of these 
 decisions ; but he was not consulted. 
 
 The greatest misfortune was, that neither solitary 
 Peckham, nor its sterile neighborhood, presented any 
 expedients, either for the execution of the aforementioned 
 design, or for the relief of poor Mrs. Wetenhall: she was 
 visibly pining away, when, through fear of dying either 
 with solitude or of want, she had recourse to Miss Ham- 
 ilton's commiseration. 
 
 Their first acquaintance was formed at Paris, whither 
 Mr. Wetenhall had taken his wife half a year after they 
 were married, on a journey thither to buy books : Miss 
 Hamilton, who from that very time greatly pitied her, 
 consented to pass some time in the country with her, in 
 hopes by that visit, to deliver her, for a short time at 
 least, out of her captivity ; which project succeeded 
 according to her wish. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, being informed of the 
 day on which they were to arrive, borne on the wings 
 of love and impatience, had engaged George Hamilton 
 to go with him, and meet them some miles out of Lon- 
 don. The equipage he had prepared for the purpose, 
 corresponded with his usual magnificence ; and on such 
 an occasion, we may reasonably suppose he had not neg- 
 lected his person : however, with all his impatience, he 
 checked the ardor of the coachman, through fear of acci- 
 dents, rightly judging that upon a road prudence is 
 preferable to eagerness. The ladies at length appeared, 
 and Miss Hamilton, being in his eyes, ten or twelve 
 times more handsome than before her departure from 
 London, he would have purchased with his life so kind 
 a reception as she gave her brother. 
 
 Mrs. Wetenhall had her share of the praises, which at 
 this interview were liberally bestowed upon her beauty, 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 301 
 
 for which her beauty was very thankful to those who did 
 it so much honor; and as Hamilton regarded her with a 
 tender attention, she regarded Hamilton as a man very 
 well qualified for putting in execution the little projects 
 she had concerted with her conscience. 
 
 As soon as she was in I,ondon, her head was almost 
 turned, through an excess of contentment and felicity : 
 everything appeared like enchantment to her in this su- 
 perb city ; more particularly, as in Paris she had never 
 seen anything farther than the Rue Saint Jacques, and 
 a few booksellers' shops. Miss Hamilton entertained 
 her at her own house, and she was presented, admired, 
 and well received at both courts. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, whose gallantry and 
 magnificence were inexhaustible, taking occasion, from 
 this fair stranger's arrival, to exhibit his grandeur, 
 nothing was to be seen but balls, concerts, plays, excur- 
 sions by land and by water, splendid collations and 
 sumptuous entertainments : Mrs. Wetenhall was trans- 
 ported with pleasures, of which the greatest part were 
 entirely new to her; she was greatly delighted with 
 all, except now and then at a play, when tragedy was 
 acted, which she confessed she thought rather wearisome: 
 she agreed, however, that the show was very interesting, 
 when there were many people killed upon the stage, 
 but thought the players were very fine handsome fellows, 
 who were much better alive than dead. 
 
 Hamilton, upon the whole, was pretty well treated by 
 her, if a man in love, who is never satisfied until the 
 completion of his wishes, could confine himself within 
 the bounds of moderation and reason : he used all his 
 endeavors to determine her to put in execution the proj- 
 ects she had formed at Peckham : Mrs. Wetenhall, on the 
 other hand, was much pleased with him. This is the 
 Hamilton who served in the French army with distinc- 
 tion; * he was both agreeable and handsome. All imag- 
 
 * I apprehend he is the same George Hamilton already described, 
 
302 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 inable opportunities conspired to favor the establishment 
 of an intimacy, whose commencement had been so brisk, 
 that in all probability it would not languish for a con- 
 clusion ; but the more he pressed her to it, the more her 
 resolution began to fail, and regard for some scruples, 
 which she had not well weighed, kept her in suspense : 
 there was reason to believe that a little perseverance 
 would have removed these obstacles; yet this at the pres- 
 ent time was not attempted. Hamilton, not able to con- 
 ceive what could prevent her from completing his 
 happiness, since in his opinion the first and greatest 
 difiiculties of an amour were already overcome, with 
 respect to the public, resolved to abandon her to her 
 irresolutions, instead of endeavoring to conquer them by 
 a more vigorous attack. It was not consistent with 
 reason, to desist from an enterprise, where so many pros- 
 pects of success presented themselves, for such inconsid- 
 erable obstacles; but he sufiered himself to be intoxicated 
 with chimeras and visions, which unseasonably cooled 
 the vigor of his pursuit, and led him astray in another 
 unprofitable undertaking. 
 
 I know not whether poor Wetenhall took the blame 
 upon herself ; but it is certain, she was extremely morti- 
 fied upon it. Soon after being obliged to return to her 
 cabbages and turkeys at Peckham, she had almost gone 
 distracted : that residence appeared a thousand times 
 more dreadful to her, since she had been initiated into 
 the amusements of L^ondon ; but as the queen was to set 
 out within a month for Tunbridge Wells, she was obliged 
 to yield to necessity, and to return to the philosopher, 
 Wetenhall, with the consolation of having engaged Miss 
 Hamilton to come and live at her house, which was 
 within ten or twelve miles of Tunbridge, as long as the 
 court remained there. 
 
 ■who married Miss Jennings, and not the author of this work, as I<ord 
 Orford supposes. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 303 
 
 Miss Hamilton promised not to abandon her in her 
 retirement, and further engaged to bring the Chevalier 
 de Grammont along with her, whose humor and con- 
 versation extremely delighted her. The Chevalier de 
 Grammont, who on all occasions started agreeable 
 raillery, engaged on his part to bring George Hamilton, 
 which words overwhelmed her with blushes. 
 
 The court set out soon after* to pass about two months 
 in the place of all Europe the most rural and simple, and 
 yet, at the same time, the most entertaining and agree- 
 able. 
 
 Tunbridge is the same distance from London, that 
 Fontainebleau is from Paris, and is, at the season, the 
 general rendezvous of all the gay and handsome of both 
 sexes. The company, though always numerous, is 
 always select : since those who repair thither for diver- 
 sion, ever exceed the number of those who go thither 
 for health. Everything there breathes mirth and pleas- 
 ure: constraint is banished, familiarity is established 
 upon the first acquaintance, and joy and pleasure are the 
 sole sovereigns of the place. 
 
 The company are accommodated with lodgings in 
 little, clean and convenient habitations, that lie strag- 
 gling and separated from each other, a mile and a half 
 all round the Wells, where the company meet in the 
 morning : this place consists of a long walk, shaded by 
 spreading trees, under which they walk while they are 
 drinking the waters : on one side of this walk is a long 
 row of shops, plentifully stocked with all manner of 
 toys, lace, gloves, stockings, and where there is rafiling, 
 as at Paris, in the Foire de Saint Germain : on the other 
 side of the walk is the market ; and, as it is the custom 
 here for every person to buy their own provisions, care 
 is taken that nothing offensive appears on the stalls. 
 
 * This was in 1664, probably as soou as the queen was sufficiently 
 recovered from the illness mentioned in note on p. 153. See Burr's 
 History of Tunbridge Wells, p. 43. 
 
304 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Here young, fair, fresh-colored country girls, with clean 
 linen, small straw hats, and neat shoes and stockings, 
 sell game, vegetables, flowers and fruit : here one may 
 live as one pleases : here is, likewise, deep play, and no 
 want of amorous intrigues. As soon as the evening 
 comes, every one quits his little palace to assemble at 
 the bowling-green, where, in the open air, those who 
 choose, dance upon a turf more soft and smooth than the 
 finest carpet in the world. 
 
 Lord Muskerry* had, within two or three short miles 
 of Tunbridge, a very handsome seat called Summer-hill ; 
 Miss Hamilton, after having spent eight or ten days at 
 Peckham, could not excuse herself from passing the re- 
 mainder of the season at his house ; and, having obtained 
 leave of Mr. Wetenhall, that his lady should accompany 
 her, they left the melancholy residence of Peckham, and 
 its tiresome master, and fixed their little court at Sum- 
 mer-hill, t 
 
 * Bldest son to the Earl of Clancarty ; "a young man, ' ' says Lord 
 Clarendon, "of extraordinary courage and expectation, who had been 
 colonel of a regiment of foot in Flanders, under the duke, and had the 
 general estimation of an excellent officer. He was of the duke's bed- 
 chamber ; and the earl [i. e. of Falmouth) and he were, at that time, so 
 near the duke, that His Highness was all covered with their blood. 
 There fell, likewise, in the same ship, and at the same instant, Mr. 
 Richard Boyle, a younger son of the Earl of Burlington, a youth of 
 great hope." — Continuation of Clarendon' s Life, p. 266. 
 
 t Lord Orford supposes this place came to Lord Muskerry through 
 the means of his elder brother : but in this he is mistaken, as it be- 
 longed to him in right of his wife, the only daughter of Lord Clan- 
 rickard. This seat is about five miles from the Wells, and was once 
 the residence and property of Sir Francis Walsingham, from whom it 
 descended to his daughter Frances, who married first Sir Philip Sydney ; 
 secondly, the unfortunate Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex : and lastly, 
 Richard de Burgh, Marquis of Clanrickard. In Walker's History of 
 Independence, we are told, that ' Somer-hill, a pleasant seat, worth 
 one thousand pounds a-year, belonging to the Earl of St. Albans, (who 
 was also Marquis of Clanrickard,) is given by the junta to the blood- 
 hound Bradshaw : So he hath warned the Countesse of Leicester, who 
 tbnnerly had it in possession, to raise a debt of three thousand pounds, 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 305 
 
 They went every day to court, or the court came to 
 them. The queen even surpassed her usual attentions 
 in inventing and supporting entertainmfents : she en- 
 deavored to increase the natural ease and freedom of 
 Tunbridge, by dispensing with, rather than requiring, 
 those ceremonies that were due to her presence ; and, 
 confining in the bottom of her heart that grief and un- 
 easiness she could not overcome, she saw Miss Stewart 
 triumphantly possess the aflFections of the king, without 
 manifesting the least uneasiness. 
 
 Never did love see his empire in a more flourishing 
 condition than on this spot: those who were smitten 
 before they came to it, felt a mighty augmentation of 
 their flame; and those who seemed the least susceptible 
 of love laid aside their natural ferocity, to act in a new 
 character. For the truth of the latter, we shall only 
 relate the change which soon appeared in the conduct of 
 Prince Rupert. * 
 
 pretended due to her from the said earle, (which she had already 
 raised fourfold,) to quiet the possession against our lord's day next." 
 At the restoration it seems to have returned to its original owner. 
 History of Kent, vol. ii., p. 341. 
 
 * Lord Orford's contrast to this character of Prince Rupert is too just 
 to be here omitted. " Bom with the taste of an uncle whom his sword 
 was not fortunate in defending, Prince Rupert was fond of those sciences 
 which soften and adorn a hero's private hours, and knew how to mix 
 them with his minutes of amusement, without dedicating his life to 
 their pursuit, like us, who, wanting capacity for momentous views, 
 make serious study of what is only the transitory occupation of a genius. 
 Had the court of the first Charles been peaceful, how agreeably had 
 the prince's congenial propensity flattered and confirmed the incHna- 
 tion of his uncle ! How the muse of arts would have repaid the 
 patronage of the monarch, when, for his first artist, she would have 
 presented him with his nephew ! How different a figure did the same 
 prince make in a reign of dissimilar complexion ! The philosophic 
 warrior, who could relax himself into the ornament of a refined court, 
 was thought a savage mechanic, when courtiers were only voluptuous 
 wits. Let me transcribe a picture of Prince Rupert, drawn by a man 
 who was far from having the least portion of wit in that age, who was 
 superior to its indelicacy, and who yet was so overborne by its prej-- 
 20 
 
306 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 He was brave and courageous, even to rashness ; but 
 cross-grained and incorrigibly obstinate : his genius was 
 fertile in mathematical experiments, and he possessed 
 some knowledge of chemistry: he was polite even to ex- 
 cess, unseasonably; but haughty and even brutal, when he 
 ought to have been gentle and courteous: he was tall and 
 his manners were ungracious: he had a dry hard-favored 
 visage, and a stern look, even when he wished to please; 
 but when he was out of humor, he was the true picture of 
 reproof. 
 
 The queen had sent for the players, either that there 
 might be no intermission in the diversions of the place, 
 or, perhaps, to retort upon Miss Stewart, by the presence 
 of Nell Gwyn, part of the uneasiness she felt from hers. 
 Prince Rupert found charms in the person of another 
 player called Hughes, * who brought down and greatly 
 subdued his natural fierceness. From this time, adieu 
 alembics, crucibles, furnaces, and all the black furniture 
 
 dices, that lie had the complaisance to ridicule virtue, merit, talents. 
 — But Prince Rupert, alas! was an awkward lover!" Lord Orford 
 here inserts the character in the text, and then adds, " What pity that 
 we, who wish to transmit this prince's resemblance to posterity on a 
 fairer canvas, have none of these inimitable colors to efface the harsher 
 likeness ! We can but oppose facts to wit, truth to satire. — How un- 
 equal the pencils ! yet what these lines cannot do, they may suggest : 
 they may induce the reader to reflect, that if the prince was defective 
 in the transient varnish of a court, he at least was adorned by the arts 
 with that polish which alone can make a court attract the attention of 
 subsequent ages. " — Catalogue of Engravers, p. 135, 8vo. ed. 
 
 * Mrs. Hughes was one of the actresses belonging to the king's 
 company, and one of the earliest female performers. According to 
 Downes, she commenced her theatrical career after the opening of 
 Drury Lane theatre, in 1663. She appears to have been the first female 
 representative of Desdemona. By Prince Rupert she had a daughter, 
 named Ruperta, married to Lieutenant-general Howe, who survived 
 her husband many years, dying at Somerset house, about the year 1740. 
 For Mrs. Hughes, Prince Rupert bought the magnificent seat of Sir 
 Nicholas Crispe, near Hammersmith, now the residence of the Mar- 
 grave of Brandenburgh, which cost ^25,000 the building. From the 
 dramatis personae to Tom Essence, licensed 1676, we find Mrs. Hughes 
 was then on the stage, and in the duke's company. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 307 
 
 of the forges : a complete farewell to all mathematical 
 instruments and chemical speculations : sweet powder 
 and essences were now the only ingredients that occu- 
 pied any share of his attention. The impertinent gipsy 
 chose to be attacked in form; and proudly refusing 
 money, that, in the end, she might sell her favors at a 
 dearer rate, she caused the poor prince to act a part so 
 unnatural, that he no longer appeared like the same 
 
 MRS. HUGHJ!,a. 
 
 person. The king was greatly pleased with this event, 
 for which great rejoicings were made at Tunbridge ; but 
 nobody was bold enough to make it the subject of satire, 
 though the same constraint was not observed with other 
 ridiculous personages. 
 
 There was dancing every day at the queen's apart- 
 ments, because the physicians recommended it, and no 
 person thought it amiss : for even those who cared the 
 least for it, jhose that exercise to digest the waters rather 
 
308 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 than walking. Lord Musketry thought himself secure 
 against his lady's rage for dancing; for, although he was 
 ashamed of it, the princess of Babylon was, by the grace 
 of God, six or seven months advanced in pregnancy; and 
 to complete her misfortune, the child had fallen all on 
 one side, so that even Euclid would have been puzzled 
 to say what her figure was. The disconsolate lady, see- 
 ing Miss Hamilton and Mrs. Wetenhall set out every 
 morning, sometimes on horseback and sometimes in a 
 coach, but ever attended by a gallant troop to conduct 
 them to court, and to convey them back, she fancied a 
 thousand times more delights at Tunbridge than in 
 reality there were, and she did not cease in her imagina- 
 tion, to dance over at Summer-hill all the country dances 
 which she thought had been danced at Tunbridge. She 
 could no longer support the racking torments which 
 disturbed her mind, when relenting heaven, out of pity 
 to her pains and sufferings, caused Lord Muskerry to 
 repair to London, and kept him there two whole days : 
 as soon as ever he had turned his back, the Babylonian 
 princess declared her resolution to make a trip to court. 
 She had a domestic chaplain who did not want sense, 
 and Lord Muskerry, for fear of accidents, had recom- 
 mended" her to the wholesome counsels and good prayers 
 of this prudent divine; but in vain were all his preach- 
 ings and exhortations to stay at home ; in vain did he set 
 before her eyes her husband's commands, and the dan- 
 gers to which she would expose herself in her present 
 condition; he likewise added that her pregnancy, being 
 a particular blessing from heaven, she ought therefore 
 to be so much the more careful for its preservation, since 
 it cost "her husband, perhaps, more trouble than she was 
 aware of, to obtain it. These remonstrances were alto- 
 gether ineffectual : Miss Hamilton and her cousin Weten- 
 hall, having the complaisance to confirm her in her res- 
 olution, they assisted in dressing her the next morning, 
 and set out along with her: all their skill and dexterity 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 309 
 
 v/ere requisite to reduce her shape into some kind of 
 symmetry; but, having at last pinned a small cushion 
 under her petticoat on the right side, to counteract the 
 untoward appearance the little infant occasioned by 
 throwing itself on the left, they almost split their sides 
 with laughter, assuring her at the same time that she 
 looked perfectly charming. 
 
 As soon as she appeared, it was generally believed 
 that she had dressed herself in a farthingale, in order 
 to make her court to the queen ; but every person was 
 pleased at her arrival : those who were unacquainted with 
 the circumstances assured her in earnest that she was 
 pregnant with twins ; and the queen, who envied her 
 condition, notwithstanding the ridiculous appearance 
 she then made, being made acquainted with the mo- 
 tive of her journey, was determined to gratify her in- 
 clinations. 
 
 As soon as the hour for country dances arrived, her 
 cousin Hamilton was appointed her partner : she made 
 some faint excuses at first on account of the inconvenient 
 situation she was then in : but soon suffered them to be 
 overcome, in order, as she said, to show her duty to the 
 queen ; and never did a woman in this world enjoy such 
 complete satisfaction. 
 
 We have already observed that the greatest prosperity 
 is liable to the greatest change : Lady Muskerry, trussed 
 up as she was, seemed to feel no manner of uneasiness 
 from the motion in dancing; on the contrary, being only 
 apprehensive of the presence of her husband, which 
 would have destroyed all her happiness, she danced 
 with uncommon briskness, lest her ill stars should bring 
 him back before she had fully satisfied herself with it. 
 In the midst, therefore, of her capering in this indiscreet 
 manner, her cushion came loose, without her perceiving 
 it, and fell to the ground in the very middle of the first 
 round. The Duke of Buckingham, who watched her, 
 took it up instantly, wrapped it up in his coat, and, 
 
310 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 mimicking the cries of a new-born infant, he went about 
 inquiring for a nurse for the young Muskerry among the 
 maids of honor. 
 
 This buffoonery, joined to the strange figure of the 
 poor lady, had almost thrown Miss Stewart into hys- 
 terics ; for the princess of Babylon, after this accident, 
 was quite flat on one side, and immoderately protuberant 
 ou the other. All those who had before suppressed their 
 inclinations to laugh now gave themselves free scope, 
 when they saw that Miss Stewart was ready to split her 
 sides. The poor lady was greatly disconcerted : every 
 person was officious to console her ; but the queen, who 
 inwardly laughed more heartily than any, pretended to 
 disapprove of their taking such liberties. 
 
 Whilst Miss Hamilton and Mrs. Wetenhall endeavored 
 to refit lyady Muskerry in another room, the Duke of 
 Buckingham told the king that, if the physicians would 
 permit a little exercise immediately after a delivery, the 
 best way to recover I^ady Muskerry was to renew the 
 dance as soon as ever her infant was replaced ; this ad- 
 vice was approved, and accordingly put in execution. 
 The queen proposed, as soon as she appeared, a second 
 round of country -dances ; and Lady Muskerry accept- 
 ing the offer, the remedy had its desired effect, and en- 
 tirely removed every remembrance of her late mishap. 
 
 Whilst these things were passing at the king's court, 
 that of the Duke of York took a journey on the other 
 side of London ; * the pretence of this journey was to 
 
 * In Sir John Reresby's Memoirs, 8vo., 1735, p. 11, sub anno 1665, it 
 is said, Aug. 5 : " His Royal Highness the duke and his duchess came 
 down to York, where it was observed that Mr. Sidney, the handsomest 
 youth of his time, and of the duke's bedchamber, was greatly in love 
 with the duchess ; and indeed he might well be excused ; for the duchess, 
 daughter to Chancellor Hyde, was a very handsome personage, and a 
 woman of fine wit. The duchess, on her part, seemed kind to him, 
 but very innocently ; but he had the misfortune to be banished the 
 court afterwards, for another reason, as was reported." Burnet men- 
 tions this transaction, and insinuates that to this cause is to be ascribed 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 311 
 
 visit the county whose name he bore ; but love was the 
 real motive. The duchess, since her elevation, had con- 
 ducted herself with such prudence and circumspection 
 as could not be suiEciently admired : such were her man- 
 ners, and such the general estimation in which she was 
 held, that she appeared to have found out the secret of 
 pleasing every one ; a secret yet more rare than the 
 grandeur to which she had been raised : but, after hav- 
 ing gained universal esteem, she was desirous of being 
 more particularly beloved ; or, more properly speaking, 
 malicious Cupid assaulted her heart, in spite of the 
 discretion, prudence and reason with which she had 
 fortified it. 
 
 In vain had she said to herself a hundred times, that 
 if the duke had been so kind as to do her justice by fall- 
 ing in love with her, he had done her too much honor 
 by making her his wife ; that with respect to his incon- 
 stant disposition, which estranged him from her, she 
 ought to bear it with patience, until it pleased heaven to 
 produce a change in his conduct ; that the frailties on 
 his part, which might to her appear injurious, would 
 never justify in her the least deviation from her duty ; 
 and, as resentment was Btill less allowable, she ought to 
 endeavor to regain him by a conduct entirely opposite to 
 his own. In vain was it, as we have said before, that 
 she had long resisted Love and his emissaries by the help 
 of these maxims : how solid soever reason, and however 
 obstinate wisdom and virtue may be, there are yet cer- 
 tain attacks which tire by their length, and, in the end, 
 subdue both reason and virtue itself. 
 
 The Duchess of York was one of the highest feeders in 
 England : as this was an unforbidden pleasure she in- 
 dulged herself in it, as an indemnification for other self- 
 denials. It was really an edifying sight to see her at 
 
 the duchess's conversion to popery. — See Burnet's History of his Own 
 Times, vol. i., p. 318, 
 
312 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 table. The duke, on the contrary, being incessantly in 
 the hurry of new fancies, exhausted himself by his in- 
 constancy, and was gradually wasting away ; whilst the 
 poor princess, gratifying her good appetite, grew so fat 
 and' plump that it was a blessing to see her. It is not 
 easy to determine how long things would have con- 
 tinued in this situation, if Love, who was resolved to 
 have satisfaction for her late conduct, so opposite to the 
 former, had not employed artifice as well as force to dis- 
 turb her repose. 
 
 He at first let loose upon her resentment and jealousy 
 two mortal enemies to all tranquillity and happiness. A 
 tall creature, pale-faced, and nothing but skin and bone, 
 named Churchill,* whom she had taken for a maid of 
 honor, became the object of her jealousy, because she 
 was then the object of the duke's affection. The court 
 was not able to comprehend how, after having been in 
 love with Lady Chesterfield, Miss Hamilton, and Miss 
 Jennings, he could have any inclination for such a 
 creature ; but they soon perceived that something more 
 than unaccountable variety had a great share in effecting 
 this conquest. 
 
 The duchess beheld with indignation a choice which 
 seemed to debase her own merit in a much greater de- 
 gree than any of the former ; at the very instant that in- 
 dignation and jealousy began to provoke her spleen, 
 
 * Miss Arabella Churcliill, daughter of Sir Winston Churchill of 
 Wotton Basset, in the comity of Wilts, and sister to the celebrated 
 John, Duke of Marlborough. She was bom 1648. By the Duke of 
 York she was mother of, i, James, Duke of Berwick, ; 2, Henry Fitz- 
 James, commonly called the Grand Prior, bom 1673, who was, after 
 the revolution, created by his father Duke of Albemarle, and died 1702 ; 
 3, Henrietta, bom 1670, married to Lord Waldegrave, and died 1730. 
 Miss Churchill afterwards became the wife of Charles Godfrey, Esq., 
 clerk-comptroller of the green cloth, and master of the jewel oflEice, by 
 whom she had two daughters ; one, Charlotte, married to Lord Fal- 
 mouth ; and the other, Elizabeth, to Edmund Dunch, Esq. Mrs. c jd- 
 frey died in May, 1730, at the age of 8?. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 313 
 
 perfidious Cupid threw in the way of her passions and 
 resentments the amiable, handsome Sidney ; and, whilst 
 he kept her eyes fixed upon his personal perfections, 
 diverted her attention from perceiving the deficiency of 
 his mental accomplishments : she was wounded before 
 she was aware of her danger ; but the good opinion 
 Sidney had of his own merit did not suffer him long to 
 be ignorant of such a glorious conquest ; and, in order 
 more effectually to secure it, his eyes rashly answered 
 everything which those of her Royal Highness had the 
 kindness to tell him, whilst his personal accomplish- 
 ments were carefully heightened by all the advantages 
 of dress and show. 
 
 The duchess, foreseeing the consequences of such an 
 engagement, strongly combated the inclination that 
 hurried her away ; but Miss Hobart, siding with that 
 inclination, argued the matter with her scruples, and, in 
 the end, really vanquished them. This girl had in- 
 sinuated herself into her Royal Highness' s confidence by 
 a fund of news with which she was provided the whole 
 year round : the court and the city supplied her ; nor was 
 it very material to her whether her stories were true or 
 false, her chief care being that they should prove agree- 
 able to her mistress : she knew, likewise, how to gratify 
 her palate, and constantly provided a variety of those 
 dishes and liquors whi^h she liked best. These quali- 
 fications had rendered her necessary ; but, desirous of 
 being still more so, and having perceived both the airs 
 that Sidney gave himself, and what was passing in the 
 heart of her mistress, the cunning Hobart took the 
 liberty of telling her Royal Highness that this un- 
 fortunate youth was pining away solely on her account ; 
 that it was a thousand pities a man of his figure should 
 lose the respect for her which was most certainly her 
 due, merely because she had reduced him to such a 
 state that he could no longer preserve it ; that he was 
 gradually dying away on her account, in the sight of 
 
314 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 the whole cotirt ; that his situation would soon be gener- 
 ally remarked, except she made use of the proper means 
 to prevent it ; that, in her opinion, her Royal Highness 
 ought to pity the miserable situation into which her 
 charms had reduced him, and to endeavor to alleviate 
 his pain in some. way or other. The duchess asked her 
 what she meant by ' ' endeavoring to alleviate his pain 
 in some way or other." " I mean, madam," answered 
 Miss Hobart, ' ' that, if either his person be disagreeable, 
 or his passion troublesome, you will give him his dis- 
 charge ; or, if you choose to retain him in your service, 
 as all the princesses in the world would do in your place, 
 you will permit me to give him directions from you for 
 his future conduct, mixed with a few grains of hope, to 
 prevent his entirely losing his senses, until you find a 
 proper occasion yourself to acquaint him with your 
 wishes." "What!" said the duchess, "would you 
 advise me, Hobart — you, who really love me — to engage 
 in an affair of this nature, at the expense of my honor, 
 and the hazard of a thousand inconveniences ! If such 
 frailties are sometimes excusable, they certainly are not 
 so in the high station in which I am placed; and it 
 would be an ill-requital on my part for his goodness who 
 
 raised me to the rank I now fill, to " "All this is 
 
 very fine," interrupted Miss Hobart: "but is it not 
 very well known that he only married you because, he 
 was importuned so to do ? Since that I refer to yourself 
 whether he has ever restrained his inclination a single 
 moment, giving you the most convincing proofs of the 
 change that has taken place in his heart, by a thousand 
 provoking infidelities ? Is it still your intention to per- 
 severe in a state of indolence and humility, whilst the 
 duke, after having received the favors, or suffered the 
 repulses, of all the coquettes in England, pays his 
 addresses to the maids of honor, one after the other, and 
 at present places his whole ambition and desires in the 
 conquest of that ugly skeleton, Churchill ? What ! 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 315 
 
 Madam, must then your prime of life be spent in a sort 
 of widowhood, in deploring your misfortunes, without 
 ever being permitted to make use of any remedy that 
 may oflfer ? A woman must be endowed with insuper- 
 able patience, or with an inexhaustible degree of resig- 
 nation, to bear this. Can a husband, who disregards 
 you both night and day, really suppose, because his wife 
 eats and drinks heartily, as, God be thanked, your Royal 
 Highness does, that she wants nothing else than to sleep 
 well too ? Faith, such conduct is too bad : I therefore 
 once more repeat that there is not a princess in the uni- 
 verse who would refuse the homage of a man like 
 Sidney, when her husband pays his addresses else- 
 where. " 
 
 These reasons were certainly not morally good ; but 
 had they been still worse the duchess would have yielded 
 to them, so much did her heart act in concert with Miss 
 Hobart, to overthrow her discretion and prudence. 
 
 This intrigue began at the very time that Miss Hobart 
 advised Miss Temple not to give any encouragement to 
 the addresses of the handsome Sidney. As for him, no 
 sooner was he informed by the confidante Hobart that 
 the goddess accepted his adoration than he immediately 
 began to be particularly reserved and circumspect in his 
 behavior, in order to divert the attention of the public ; 
 but the public is not so easily deceived as some people 
 imagine. 
 
 As there were too many spies, too many inquisitive 
 people and critics, in a numerous court, residing in the 
 midst of a populous city, the duchess to avoid exposing 
 the inclinations of her heart to the scrutiny of so many 
 inquisitors, engaged the Duke of York to undertake the 
 journey before mentioned, whilst the queen and her 
 court were at Tunbridge. 
 
 This conduct was prudent ; and, if agreeable to her, 
 was far from displeasing to any of her court, except Miss 
 Jennings : Jermyn was not of the party ; and, in hei 
 
316 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 opinion, every party was insipid in which he was not 
 one of the company. He had engaged himself in an 
 enterprise above his strength, in laying a wager which 
 the Chevalier de Grammont had laid before, and lost. 
 He betted five hundred guineas that he would ride 
 twenty miles in one hour upon the same horse, in the 
 high road. The day he had fixed upon for his race was 
 the very same in which Miss Jennings went to the for- 
 tune-teller's. 
 
 Jermyn was more fortunate than her in this under- 
 taking : he came off victorious ; but as his courage had 
 far exceeded the strength of his constitution in this exer- 
 tion to win the wager, he got a violent fever into the 
 bargain, which brought him very low. Miss Jennings 
 inquired after his health ; but that was all she dared to 
 do. In modern romances, a princess need only pay a 
 visit to some hero, abandoned by his physicians, a perfect 
 cure would be wrought in three days ; but since Miss 
 Jennings had not been the cause of Jermyn' s fever, she 
 was not certain of relieving him from it, although she 
 had been sure that a qjiaritable visit would not have 
 been censured in a malicious court. Without therefore 
 paying any attention to the uneasiness she might feel 
 upon the occasion, the court set out without him : she 
 had, however, the gratification to testify her ill-humor 
 throughout the whole journey, by appearing displeased 
 with everything which seemed to afford satisfaction to 
 all the rest of the company. 
 
 Talbot made one of the company ; and flattering him- 
 self that the absence of a dangerous rival might produce 
 some change in his favor, he was attentive to all the 
 actions, motions, and even gestures, of his former mis- 
 tress. There was certainly enough fully to employ his 
 attention : it was contrary to her disposition to remain 
 long in a serious humor. Her natural vivacity hurried 
 her away, from being seemingly lost in thought, into 
 sallies of wit, which afforded him hopes that she would 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 317 
 
 soon forget Jermyn, and remember that his own passion 
 was the first she had encouraged. However, he kept his 
 distance, notwithstanding his love and his hopes, being 
 of opinion that it ill became an injured lover to betray 
 either the least weakness, or the smallest return of affec- 
 tion, for an ungrateful mistress who had deserted him. 
 
 Miss Jennings was so far from thinking of his resent- 
 ments, that she did not even recollect he had ever paid 
 his addresses to her ; and her thoughts being wholly 
 occupied upon the poor sick man, she conducted herself 
 towards Talbot as if they never had anything to say to 
 each other. It was to him that she most usually gave 
 her hand, either in getting into or out of the coach ; she 
 conversed more readily with him than any other person, 
 and, without intending it, did everything to make the 
 court believe she was cured of her passion for Jermyn 
 in favor of her former lover. 
 
 Of this he seemed likewise convinced, as well as the rest ; 
 and thinking it now proper to act another part, in order 
 to let her know that his sentiments with respect to her 
 were still the same, he had resolved to address her in the 
 most tender and affectionate manner upon this subject. 
 Fortune seemed to have favored him, and to have 
 smoothed the way for this intended harangue : he was 
 alone with her in her chamber ; and, what was still 
 better, she was rallying him concerning Miss Boynton ; 
 saying, ' ' that they were undoubtedly much obliged to 
 him for attending them on their journey, whilst poor 
 Miss Boynton had fainting fits at Tunbridge, at least 
 twice every day, for love of him." Upon this discourse, 
 Talbot thought it right to begin the recital of his suffer- 
 ings and fidelity, when Miss Temple, with a paper in 
 her hand, entered the room. This was a letter in verse, 
 which Lord Rochester had written some time before, 
 upon the intrigues of the two courts ; wherein, upon the 
 subject of Miss Jennings, he said : ' ' that Talbot had 
 struck terror among the people of God, by his gigantic 
 
S18 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Stature ; but that Jermyn, like a little David, had van- 
 quished the great Goliath." Jennings, delighted with 
 this allusion, read it over two or three times, thought it 
 more entertaining than Talbot's conversation, at 'first 
 heartily laughed at it, but soon after, with a tender air, 
 "Poor little David ! " said she, with a deep sigh, and 
 turning her head on one side during this short reverie, 
 she shed a few tears, which assuredly did not flow for 
 the defeat of the giant. This stung Talbot to the quick ; 
 and, seeing himself so ridiculously deceived in his hopes, 
 he went abruptly out of the room, vowing never to think 
 any more of a giddy girl, whose conduct was regulated 
 neither by sense nor reason ; but he did not keep his 
 resolution. 
 
 The other votaries of love, who were numerous in 
 this court, were more successful, the journey being 
 undertaken solely on that account. There were con- 
 tinual balls and entertainments upon the road ; hunting, 
 and all other diversions, wherever the court halted in its 
 progress. The tender lovers flattered themselves with 
 the thought of being able to crown their happiness as 
 they proceeded in their journey ; and the beauties who 
 governed their destiny did not forbid them to hope. 
 Sidney paid his court with wonderful assiduity : the 
 duchess made the duke take notice of his late perfect 
 devotion to his service : his Royal Highness observed it, 
 and agreed that he ought to be remembered upon the 
 first opportunity, which happened soon after. 
 
 Montagu, as before mentioned, was master of the horse 
 to the duchess : he was possessed of a great deal of wit, 
 had much penetration, and loved mischief. How could 
 she bear such a man near her person, in the present 
 situation of her heart ? This greatly embarrassed her ; 
 but Montagu's elder brother having, very a-propos, got 
 himself killed where he had no business,* the duke 
 
 * Montagu's elder brother was killed before Bergen,, about August, 
 1665. See Arlington's Letters, vol. ii., p. 87. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 319 
 
 obtained for Montagu the post of master of the horse to 
 the queen, which the deceased enjoyed ; and the hand- 
 some Sidney was appointed to succeed him in the same 
 employment to the duchess. All this happened accord- 
 ing to her wish ; and the duke was highly pleased that 
 he had found means to promote these two gentlemen at 
 once, without being at the least expense. 
 
 Miss Hobart greatly applauded these promotions : she 
 had frequent and long conversations with Sidney, which, 
 being remarked, some did her the honor to believe it 
 was upon her own account ; and the compliments that 
 were made her upon the occasion she most willingly 
 received. The duke, who believed it at first, observed 
 to the duchess the unaccountable taste of certain persons, 
 and how the handsomest young fellow in England was 
 infatuated with such a frightful creature. 
 
 The duchess confessed that taste was very arbitrary ; 
 the truth whereof he himself seemed to be convinced of, 
 since he had fixed upon the beauteous Helen for his 
 mistress. I know not whether this raillery caused him 
 to reflect for what reasons he made his choice ; but it is 
 certain he began to cool in his affections for Miss 
 Churchill ; and perhaps he would entirely have aban- 
 doned this pursuit, had not an accident taken place, 
 which raised in him an entirely new inclination for her. 
 
 The court having halted for a few days in a fine open 
 country, the duchess was desirous of seeing a greyhound 
 course. This diversion is practised in England upon 
 large downs, where the turf, eaten by the sheep, is par- 
 ticularly green, and wonderfully even. She was in her 
 coach, and all the ladies on horseback, every one of 
 them being attended by her squire ; it therefore was but 
 reasonable that the mistress should likewise have her 
 squire. He accordingly was at the side of her coach, 
 and seemed to compensate for his deficiencies in con- 
 versation, by the uncommon beauty of his mien and 
 figure. 
 
320 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 The duke attended Miss Churchill, not for the sake 
 of besieging her with soft flattering tales of love, but, on 
 the contrary, to chide her for sitting so ill on horseback. 
 She was one of the most indolent creatures in the world ; 
 and although the maids of honor are generally the worst 
 mounted of the whole court, yet, in order to distinguish 
 her, on account of the favor she enjoyed, they had given 
 her a very pretty, though rather a high-spirited horse ; 
 a distinction she would very willingly have excused 
 them. 
 
 The embarrassment and fear she was under had added 
 to her natural paleness. In this situation, her coun- 
 tenance had almost completed the duke's disgust, when 
 her horse, desirous of keeping pace with the others, set 
 off in a gallop, notwithstanding her greatest efforts to 
 prevent it ; and her endeavors to hold him in, firing bis 
 mettle, he at length set off at full speed, as if he was 
 running a race against the duke's horse. 
 
 Miss Churchill lost her seat, screamed out, and fell 
 from her horse. A fall in so quick a pace must have 
 been violent; and yet it proved favorable to her in every 
 respect ; for, without receiving any hurt, she gave the 
 lie to all the unfavorable suppositions that had been 
 formed of her person, in judging from her face. The 
 duke alighted, in order to help her : she was so greatly 
 stunned, that her thoughts were otherwise employed 
 than about decency on the present occasion ; and those 
 who first crowded around her found her rather in a neg- 
 ligent posture : they could hardly believe that limbs of 
 such exquisite beauty could belong to Miss Churchill's 
 face. After this accident, it was remarked that the 
 duke's tenderness and affection for her increased every 
 day; and, towards the end of the winter, it appeared that 
 she had not tyrannized over his passion, nor made him 
 languish with impatience. 
 
 The two courts returned to London much about the 
 same time, equally satisfied with their respective excur- 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 321 
 
 sions ; though the queen was disappointed in the hopes 
 she had entertained of the good effects of the Tunbridge 
 waters. 
 
 It was about this time that the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont received a letter from the Marchioness de Saint- 
 Chaumont, his sister, acquainting him that he might 
 return when he thought proper, the king having given 
 him leave. He would have received this news with joy 
 at any other time, whatever had been the charms of the 
 English court ; but, in the present situation of his heart, 
 he could not resolve to quit it. 
 
 He had returned from Tunbridge a thousand times 
 deeper in love than ever ; for, during this agreeable ex- 
 cursion, he had every day seen Miss Hamilton, either in 
 the marshes of melancholy Peckham or in the delicious 
 walks of cheerful Summer-hill, or in the daily diversions 
 and entertainments of the queen's court ; and whether 
 he saw her on horseback, heard her conversation, or 
 observed her in the dance, still he was persuaded that 
 Heaven had never formed an object in every respect 
 more worthy of the love, and more deserving of the 
 aflfection, of a man of sense and delicacy. How then 
 was it possible for him to bear the thoughts of leaving 
 her ? This appeared to him absolutely impracticable ; 
 hoiwever, as he was desirous of making a merit with her, 
 of the determination he had made to neglect his fortune, 
 rather than to be separated from her charms, he showed 
 her his sister's letter : but this confidence had not the 
 success he expected. 
 
 Miss Hamilton, in the first place, congratulated him 
 upon his recall : she returned him many thanks for the 
 sacrifice he intended to make her ; but as this testimony 
 of afiection greatly exceeded the bounds of mere gal- 
 lantry, however sensibly she might feel this mark of his 
 tenderness, she was, however, determined not to abuse 
 »t. In vain did he protest that he would rather meet 
 death than part from her irresistible charms ; ana her 
 21 
 
322 
 
 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 ixresistible charms protested that he should never see 
 them more, unless he departed immediately. Thus was 
 he forced to obey. However, he was allowed to flatter 
 himself that these positive orders, how harsh soever they 
 might appear, did not flow from indifference ; that she 
 would always be more pleased with his return than with 
 his departure, for which she was now so urgent ; and 
 having generously given him assurances that, so far as 
 depended upon herself, he would find, upon his return, 
 no variation in her sentiments during his absence, he 
 took leave of his friends, thinking of nothing but his 
 return, at the very time he was making preparations for 
 his departure. 
 
 
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CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The nearer the Chevalier de Grammont approached 
 the court of France, the more did he regret his absence 
 from that of England ; not but that he expected a gra- 
 cious reception at the feet of his master, whose anger no 
 one provoked with impunity ; but who likewise knew 
 how to pardon, in such a manner as to make the favor he 
 conferred in everj'- respect to be felt. 
 
 A thousand different thoughts occupied his mind upon 
 the journey : sometimes he reflected upon the joy and 
 satisfaction his friends and relations would experience 
 upon his return ; sometimes upon the congratulations 
 and embraces of those who, being neither the one nor 
 the other, would, nevertheless, overwhelm him with im- 
 pertinent compliments : all these ideas passed quickly 
 through his head ; for a man deeply in love makes it a 
 scruple of conscience not to suffer any other thoughts 
 to dwell upon his mind than those of the object beloved. 
 It was then the tender, endearing remembrance of what 
 he had left in London that diverted his thoughts from 
 Paris ; and it was the torments of absence that prevented 
 his feeling those of the bad roads and the bad horses. 
 His heart protested to Miss Hamilton, between Mon- 
 treuil and Abbeville, that he only tore himself from her 
 
 (323) 
 
324 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 with such haste to return the sooner ; after which, by a 
 short reflection, comparing the regret he had formerly 
 felt upon the same road, in quitting France for England, 
 with that which he now experienced in quitting England 
 for France, he found the last much more insupportable 
 than the former. 
 
 It is thus that a man in love entertains himself upon 
 the road; or rather, it is thus that a trifling writer abuses 
 the patience of his reader, either to display his own sen- 
 timents, or to lengthen out a tedious story; but God for- 
 bid that this character should apply to ourselves, since 
 we profess to insert nothing in these memoirs, but what 
 we have heard from the mouth of him whose actions and 
 sayings we transmit to posterity. 
 
 Who, except Squire Feraulas, has ever been able to 
 keep a register of all the thoughts, sighs, and exclama- 
 tions of his illustrious master? For my own part, I 
 should never have thought that the attention of the 
 Count de Grammont, which is at present so sensible to 
 inconveniences and dangers, would have ever permitted 
 him to entertain amorous thoughts upon the road, if he 
 did not himself dictate to me what 1 am now writing. 
 
 But let us speak of him at Abbeville. The postmaster 
 was his old acquaintance: his hotel was the best provided 
 of any between Calais and Paris ; and the Chevalier de 
 Grammont, alighting, told Termes he would drink a 
 glass of wine during the time they were changing horses. 
 It was about noon: and, since the preceding night, 
 when they had landed at Calais, until this instant, they 
 had not eat a single mouthful. Termes, praising the 
 L,ord, that natural feelings had for once prevailed over 
 the inhumanity of his usual impatience, confirmed him 
 as much as possible in such reasonable sentiments. 
 
 Upon their entering the kitchen, where the Chevalier 
 generally paid his first visit, they were surprised to see 
 half a dozen spits loaded with game at the fire, and every 
 other preparation for a magnificent entertainment. The 
 
M:eMoi6,s OP coun¥ grammonY. S^6 
 
 heart of Termes leaped for joy: he gave private orders to 
 the hostler to pull the shoes off some of the horses, that 
 he might not be forced away from this place before he 
 had satisfied his craving appetite. 
 
 Soon after a number of violins and hautboys, attended 
 by all the mob of the town, entered the court. The 
 landlord, being asked the reason of these great prepara- 
 tions, acquainted the Chevalier de Grammont that they 
 were for the wedding of one of the most wealthy gentle- 
 men in the neighborhood with one of the handsomest 
 girls in the whole province ; that the entertainment was 
 to be at his house; and that, if his lordship chose to stop, 
 in a very shorl time he would see the new-married 
 couple arrive from the church, since the music was al- 
 ready come. He was right in his conjectures; for these 
 words were scarce out of his mouth, when three uncom- 
 monly large coaches, loaded with lackeys, as tall as 
 Swiss, with most gaudy liveries, all covered with lace, 
 appeared in the court, and disembarked the whole wed- 
 ding company. Never was country magnificence more 
 naturally displayed : rusty tinsel, tarnished lace, striped 
 silks, little eyes, and full swelling breasts, appeared on 
 every side. 
 
 If the first sight of the procession surprised the Chev- 
 alier de Grammont, faithful Termes was no less aston- 
 ished at the second. The little that was to be seen of 
 the bride's face appeared not without beauty; but no 
 judgment could be formed of the remainder: four dozen 
 of patches, at least, and ten ringlets of hair, on each side, 
 most completely concealed her from all human eyes; but 
 it was the bridegroom who most particularly attracted 
 the Chevalier de Grammont' s attention. 
 
 He was as ridiculously dressed as the rest of the com- 
 pany, except a coat of the greatest magnificence, and of 
 the most exquisite taste. The Chevalier de Grammont, 
 walking up to him to examine his dress, began to com- 
 mend the embroidery of his coat. The bridegroom 
 
326 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 thought himself much honored by this examination, and 
 told him he bought it for one hundred and fifty louis, at 
 the time he was paying his addresses to his wife. 
 ' ' Then you did not get it made here ? ' ' said the Cheva- 
 lier de Grammont. "No," replied the other; "I 
 bought it of a London merchant, who had ordered it for 
 an English lord." The Chevalier de Grammont, who 
 now began to perceive in what manner the adventure 
 would end, asked him if he should recollect the mer- 
 chant if he saw him again ? " Recollect him ! ' ' replied 
 the other, ' ' I surely ought ; for I was obliged to sit up 
 drinking with him all night at Calais, as I was endeav- 
 oring to beat down the price." Termes had vanished 
 out of sight as soon as ever this coat appeared, though 
 he little supposed that the cursed bridegroom would 
 have any conversation concerning it with* his master. 
 
 The Chevalier's thoughts were some time wavering 
 between his inclination to laugh, and a desire of hanging 
 Master Termes; but the long habit of suffering himself 
 to be robbed by his domestics, together with the vigil- 
 ance of the criminal, whom his master could not reproach 
 with having slept in his service, inclined him to clem- 
 ency ; and yielding to the importunities of the country 
 gentleman, in order to confound his faithful servant, he 
 sat down to table, to make the thirty-seventh of the com- 
 pany. 
 
 A short time after, he desired one of the waiters to call 
 for a gentleman whose name was Termes. He immedi- 
 ately appeared ; and as soon as the master of the feast 
 saw him, he rose from table, and offering him his hand ; 
 "Welcome, my friend," said he; "you see that I have 
 taken good care of the coat which you sold me with so 
 much reluctance, and that I have kept it for a good pur- 
 pose." 
 
 Termes, having put on a face of brass, pretended not 
 to know him, and pushed him back with some degree 
 of rudeness. "No, no ! " said the other; "since I was 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 327 
 
 obliged to sit up with you the whole night, in order to 
 strike the bargain, you shall pledge me in the bride's 
 health." The Chevalier de Grammont, who saw that 
 Termes was disconcerted, notwithstanding his impu- 
 dence, said to him with a smile : ' ' Come, come, my good 
 London merchant, sit down, as you are so civilly invited ; 
 we are not so crowded at table but that there will be 
 room enough for such an honest gentleman as yourself. ' ' 
 At these words five-and- thirty of the guests were in motion 
 to receive this new visitor: the bride alone, out of an idea 
 of decorum, remained seated; and the audacious Termes, 
 having swallowed the first shame of this adventure, be- 
 gan to lay about him at such a rate, as if it had been his 
 intention to swallow all the wine provided for the wed- 
 ding, if his master had not risen from the table as they 
 were taking off four-and-twenty soups, to serve up as 
 many other dishes in their stead. 
 
 The company were not so unreasonable as to desire a 
 man who was in such haste to remain to the end of a 
 wedding dinner; but they all got up when he arose from 
 table, and all that he could obtain from the bridegroom 
 was that the company should not attend him to the gate 
 of the inn. As for Termes, he wished they had not 
 quitted him till the end of their journey, so much did he 
 dread being left alone with his master. 
 
 They had advanced some distance from Abbeville, and 
 were proceeding on in the most profound silence, when 
 Termes, who expected an end to it in a short time, was 
 only solicitous in what manner it might happen, whether 
 his master would attack him with a torrent of invectives, 
 and certain epithets which were most justly his due, or 
 whether, in an insulting, ironical manner, he might 
 make use of such commendations as were most likely to 
 confound him ; but finding, instead of either, that he 
 remained in sullen silence, he thought it prudent rather 
 to prevent the speech the Chevalier was meditating than 
 to sufier him to think longer about it ; and accordingly, 
 
328 , MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 arming himself with all his effrontery : ' ' You seem to 
 be very angry, Sir," said he, "and L suppose you think 
 you have reason for being so ; but the devil take me, if 
 you are not mistaken in reality. ' ' 
 
 , "How! traitor! in reality?" said the Chevalier de 
 Grammont. "It is then because I have not had thee 
 well thrashed, as thou hast for a long time merited." 
 "Ivook ye, Sir," replied Termes, "you always run into 
 a passion, instead of listening to reason! Yes, Sir, I 
 maintain that what I did was for your benefit." "And 
 was not the quicksand likewise for my service?" said 
 the Chevalier de Grammont. "Have patience, if you 
 please," pursued the other: "I know not how that 
 simpleton of a bridegroom happened to be at the custom- 
 house when my portmanteau was examined at Calais : 
 but these silly cuckolds thrust in their noses everywhere. 
 As soon as ever he saw your coat, he fell in love with it. 
 I immediately perceived he was a fool ; for he fell down 
 upon his knees, beseeching me to sell it him. Besides 
 being greatly rumpled in the portmanteau, it was all 
 stained in front by the sweat of the horses. I wonder 
 how the devil he has managed to get it cleaned ; but, 
 faith, I am the greatest scoundrel in the world, if you 
 would ever have put it on. In a word, it cost you one 
 hundred and forty louis d'ors, and seeing he offered me 
 one hundred and fifty for it ; ' My master,' said I, ' has no 
 occasion for this tinselled bauble to distinguish him at 
 the ball ; and, although he was pretty full of cash when 
 I left him, how know I in what situation he may be 
 upon my return ? there is no certainty at play. ' To be 
 brief. Sir, I got ten louis d'ors for it more than it cost 
 you : this you see is all clear profit : I will be accountable 
 to you for it, and you know that I am sufficiently sub- 
 stantial to make good such a sum. Confess now, do you 
 think you would have appeared to greater advantage at 
 the ball, if you had been dressed out in that damned 
 coat, which would have made you look just like the 
 
MEMOIRS OV COUNf GRAMMON*. 329 
 
 village bridegroom to whom we sold it ? and yet how 
 you stormed at London when you thought it lost ; what 
 fine stories you told the king about the quicksand ; and 
 how churlish you looked, when you first began to 
 suppose that this country looby wore it at his wed- 
 ding ! " 
 
 What could the Chevalier reply to such uncommon 
 impudence? If he indulged his resentment, he must 
 either have most severely bastinadoed him, or he must 
 have discarded him, as the easiest escape the rogue could 
 expect; but he had occasion for him during the re- 
 mainder of his journey ; and as soon as he was at Paris, 
 he had occasion for him for his return. 
 
 The Marechal de Grammont had no sooner notice of 
 his arrival than he went to him at the hotel ; and, the 
 first embraces being over on both sides, "Chevalier," 
 said the Marechal, ' ' how many days have you been in 
 coming from London hither? for God knows at what 
 a rate you travel on such occasions." The Chevalier 
 told him he had been three days upon the road ; and, to 
 excuse himself for making no more haste, he related to 
 him his Abbeville adventure. " It is a very entertaining 
 one," said his brother; "but what is yet more enter- 
 taining is, that it will be your fault if you do not find 
 your coat still at table ; for the country gentry are not 
 accustomed to rise very soon from a wedding dinner. ' ' 
 And then, in a very serious tone, told him, "he knew 
 not who had advised him to this unexpected return, 
 which might probably ruin all his afiairs ; but he had 
 orders from the king to bid him go back again without 
 appearing at court. He told him afterwards that he was 
 very much astonished at his impatience, as, till this 
 time, he had conducted himself uncommonly well, and 
 was suflSciently acquainted with the king's temper to 
 know that the only way to merit his pardon was to wait 
 until it freely came from his clemency." 
 
 The Chevalier, in justification of his conduct, pro- 
 
330 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOHT. 
 
 duced Madame de Saint Chaumont's letter, and told the 
 Mardchal that he would very willingly have spared her 
 the trouble of writing him such kind of news, to occa- 
 sion him so useless a journey. " Still more indiscre- 
 tion," replied his brother; " for, pray how long has our 
 sister been either secretary of state or minister, that she 
 should be employed by the king to make known His 
 Majesty's order? Do you wish to know the real state 
 of the case? Some time ago the king told Madame* 
 how you had refused the pension the King of England 
 offered you : he appeared pleased with the manner in 
 which Comminges had related to him the circumstances 
 attending it, and said he was pleased with you for it : 
 Madame interpreted this as an order for your recall ; and 
 Madame de Saint Chaumont being very far from pos- 
 sessing that wonderful discretion she imagines herself 
 mistress of, she hastened to despatch to you this con- 
 sequential order in her own hand. To conclude : 
 Madame said yesterday, when the king was at dinner, 
 that you would very soon be here ; and .the king, as soon 
 
 * Henrietta, youngest daughter of Charles the First, born at Exeter 
 1 6th June, 1644, from whence she was removed to London in 1646, and, 
 with her governess. Lady Dalkeith, soon afterwards conveyed to France. 
 On the restoration, she came over to England with her mother, but 
 returned to France in about six months, and was married to Philip, 
 Duke of Orleans, only brother of Louis XIV. In May, 1670, she came 
 again to Dover, on a mission of a political nature, it is supposed, from 
 the French king to her brother, in which she was successful. She died, 
 soon after her return to France, suddenly, not without suspicion of 
 having been poisoned by her husband. King James, in his Diary, says, 
 " On the 22d of June, the news of the Duchess of Orleans' death arrived. 
 \t was suspected that counter-poisons were given her ; but when she 
 was opened, in the presence of the English ambassador, the Earl of 
 Ailesbury, an English physician and surgeon, there appeared no grounds 
 of suspicion of any foul play. Yet Bucks talked openly that she was 
 poisoned ; and was so violent as to propose to foreign ministers to make 
 war on France." — Macpherson' s Original Papers, vol. i. At the end 
 of Lord Arlington's Letters are five very remarkable ones from a person 
 of quality, who is said to have been actually on the spot, giving a par- 
 ticular relation of her death. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 331 
 
 as dinner was over, commanded me to send you back as 
 soon as you arrived. Here you are ; set off again im- 
 mediately." 
 
 This order might have appeared severe to the Cheva- 
 lier de Grammont at any other time ; but, in the present 
 state of his heart, he soon resolved upon obeying. Noth- 
 ing gave him uneasiness but the officious advice which 
 had obliged him to leave the English court ; and being 
 entirely unconcerned that he was not allowed to see the 
 French court before his departure, he only desired the 
 Mar^chal to obtain leave for him to stay a few days to 
 collect in some play debts which were owing him. 
 This request was granted, on condition that he should 
 not remain in Paris. 
 
 He chose Vaugirard for his retreat : it was there that 
 he had several adventures which he so often related in so 
 humorous and diverting a manner, that it would be tedi- 
 ous to repeat them ; there it was that he administered the 
 sacrament in so solemn a manner, that, as there did not 
 remain a sufficient number of Swiss at Versailles to guard 
 the chapel, Vardes was obliged to acquaint the king that 
 they were all gone to the Chevalier de Grammont, who 
 was administering the sacrament at Vaugirard : there 
 likewise happened that wonderful adventure which 
 threw the first slur upon the reputation of the great 
 Saucourt, when, having a t^te-^-t6te with the gardener's 
 daughter, the horn, which was agreed upon as the signal 
 to prevent surprises, was sounded so often, that the fre- 
 quent alarms cooled the courage of the celebrated Sau- 
 court, and- rendered useless the assignation that was 
 procured for him with one of the prettiest girls in the 
 neighborhood. It was, likewise, during his stay at Vau- 
 girard, that he paid a visit to Mademoiselle de 1' H6pital 
 at Issy, to inquire into the truth of a report of an amour 
 between her and a man of the long robe; and it was there 
 that, on his arriving unexpectedly, the President de 
 Maisons was forced to take refuge in a closet, with so 
 
332 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONf. 
 
 much precipitation, that half of his robe remained on the 
 outside when he shut the door ; while the Chevalier 
 de Grammont, who observed it, made his visit exces- 
 sively long, in order to keep the two lovers upon the 
 rack. 
 
 His business being settled he set out for England on 
 the wings of love. Termes redoubled his vigilance upon 
 the road. The post horses were ready in an instant at 
 every stage: the winds and tides favored his impatience ; 
 and he reached I^ondon with the highest satisfaction. 
 The court was both surprised and charmed at his sudden 
 return. No person condoled with him upon his late dis- 
 appointment, which had occasioned him to come back, 
 as he testified no manner of uneasiness concerning it 
 himself; nor was Miss Hamilton in the least displeased 
 at his readiness in obeying the orders of the king, his 
 master. 
 
 Nothing new had happened in the English court 
 during his short absence; but it assumed a different 
 aspect soon after his return : I mean with respect 
 to love and pleasure, which were the most serious con- 
 cerns of the court during the greatest part of this gay 
 reign. 
 
 The Duke of Monmouth,* natural son to Charles the 
 Second, now made his first appearance in his father's 
 
 * James, Duke of Monmouth, was the son of Charles II., by one 
 Lucy Walters. He was born at Rotterdam, April 9, 1649, and bore the 
 name of James Crofts until the restoration. His education was chiefly 
 at Paris, under the eye of the queen-mother, and the government of 
 Thomas Ross, Esq., who was afterwards secretary to Mr. Coventry 
 during his embassy in Sweden. At the restoration he was brought to 
 England, and received with joy by his father, who heaped honors and 
 riches upon him, which were not sufficient to satisfy his ambitious 
 views. To exclude his uncle, the Duke of York, from the throne, he 
 was continually intriguing with the opposers of government, and was 
 frequently in disgrace with his sovereign. On the accession of James 
 II. he made an inefifectual attempt to raise a rebellion, was taken pris- 
 oner, and beheaded on Tower-hill, 15th July, 1685. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 333 
 
 court. His entrance upon the stage of the world was so 
 brilliant, his ambition had occasioned so many consid- 
 erable events, and the particulars of his tragical end are 
 so recent, that it were needless to produce any other 
 traits to give a sketch of his character. By the whole 
 tenor of his life, he appeared to be rash in his under- 
 takings, irresolute in the execution, and dejected in his 
 misfortunes, in which, at least, an undaunted resolution 
 ought to equal the greatness of the attempt. 
 
 His figure and the exterior graces of his person were 
 such, that nature perhaps never formed anything more 
 complete. His face was extremely handsome ; and yet 
 it was a manly face, neither inanimate nor effeminate ; 
 each feature having its beauty and peculiar delicacy: he 
 had a wonderful genius for every sort of exercise, an en- 
 gaging aspect, and an air of grandeur : in a word, he 
 possessed every personal advantage ; but then he was 
 greatly deficient in mental accomplishments. He had 
 no sentiments but such as others inspired him with; and 
 those who first insinuated themselves into his friendship 
 took care to inspire him with none but such as were per- 
 nicious. The astonishing beauty of his outward form 
 caused universal admiration : those who before were 
 looked upon as handsome were now entirely forgotten 
 at court': and all the gay and beautiful of the fair sex 
 were at his devotion. He was particularly beloved by 
 the king, but the universal terror of husbands and lovers. 
 This, however, did not long continue; for nature not 
 having endowed him with qualifications to secure the 
 possession of the heart, the fair sex soon perceived the 
 defect. 
 
 The Duchess of Cleveland was out of humor with the 
 king, because the children she had by His Majesty were 
 like so many little puppets, compared to this new Adonis. 
 She was the more particularly hurt, as she might have 
 boasted of being the queen of love, in comparison with 
 the duke's mother. The king, however, laughed at her 
 
334 HEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 reproaches, as, for some time, she had certainly no right 
 to make any; and as this piece of jealousy appeared to be 
 more ill-founded than any she had formerly affected, no 
 person approved of her ridiculous resentment. Not suc=' 
 ceeding in this, she formed another scheme to give the 
 king uneasiness. Instead of opposing his extreme ten- 
 derness for his son, she pretended to adopt him in her 
 affections, by a thousand commendations and caresses, 
 which she was daily and continually increasing. As 
 these endearments were public, she imagined they could 
 not be suspected ; but she was too well known for her 
 real design to be mistaken. The king was no longer 
 jealous of her; but, as the Duke of Monmouth was of an 
 age not to be insensible to the attractions of a woman 
 possessing so many charms, he thought it proper to with- 
 draw him from this pretended mother-in-law, to preserve 
 his innocence, or at least his fame, uncontaminated : it 
 was for this reason, therefore, that the king married him 
 so young. 
 
 An heiress of five thousand pounds a year in Scotland,* 
 
 * This was Lady Anne Scott, daughter and sole heiress of Francis, 
 Earl of Buccleugh, only son and heir of Walter, Lord Scott, created 
 Earl of Buccleugh in 1619. On their marriage the duke took the sur« 
 name of Scott, and he and his lady were created Duke and Duchess of 
 Buccleugh, Earl and Countess of Dalkeith, Baron and Baroness of 
 Whitchester and Ashdale in Scotland, by letters patent, dated April 20, 
 1673. Also, two days after, he was installed at Windsor, the king and 
 queen, the Duke of York, and most of the court being present. The 
 next day, being St. George's day, His Majesty solemnized it with a 
 royal feast, and entertained the knights' companions in St. George'8 
 hall in the castle of Windsor. Though there were several children of 
 this marriage, it does not appear to have been a happy one ; the duke, 
 without concealment, attaching himself to Lady Harriet Wentworth, 
 whom, with his d5ring breath, he declared he considered as his only 
 wife in the sight of God. The duchess,- in May, 1688, took to her sec- 
 ond husband, Charles, Lord Comwallis. She died Feb. 6, 1731-32. io 
 the 8ist year of her age, and was buried at Dalkeith in Scotland. Our 
 author is not more correct about figtu-es than he avows himself to be in 
 the arrangement of facts and dates : the duchess's fortune was much 
 greater than he has stated it to have been. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 335 
 
 offered very d-propos: her person was full of charms, and 
 her mind possessed all those perfections in which the 
 handsome Monmouth was deficient. 
 
 New festivals and entertainments celebrated this mar- 
 riage. The most effectual method to pay court to the 
 king was to outshine the rest in brilliancy and grandeur; 
 and whilst these rejoicings brought forward all manner 
 of gallantry and magnificence, they either revived old or 
 established new amours. 
 
 The fair Stewart, then in the meridian of her glory, 
 attracted all eyes, and commanded universal respect and 
 admiration. The Duchess of Cleveland endeavored to 
 eclipse her at this f€te, by a load of jewels, and by all 
 the artificial ornaments of dress ; but it was in vain : her 
 face looked rather thin and pale, from the commence- 
 ment of a third or fourth pregnancy, which the king was 
 still pleased to place to his own account ; and, as for the 
 rest, her person could in no respect stand in competition 
 with the grace and beauty of Miss Stewart. 
 
 It was during this last effort of her charms, that she 
 would have been queen of England had the king been 
 as free to give his hand as he was to surrender his heart: 
 for it was at this time that the Duke of Richmond took 
 it into his head either to marry her, or to die in the 
 attempt. 
 
 A few months after the celebration of the Duke of 
 Monmouth's nuptials, Killegrew,* having nothing better 
 
 * Thomas Killegrew was one of tte sons of Sir Robert Killegrew, 
 chamberlain to the queen, and was born at Hanworth, in the county 
 of Middlesex, in the month of February, 1611. He seems to have 
 been early intended for the court, and to qualify him for rising there, 
 every circumstance of his education appears to have been adapted. He 
 was appointed page of honor to King Charles I., and faithfully ad- 
 hered to his cause until the death of his master ; after which he at- 
 tended his son in his exile ; to whom he was highly acceptable, on 
 account of his social and convivial qualifications. He married Mrs. 
 Cecilia Crofts, one of the maids of honor to Queen Henrietta. In 
 1651 he was sent to Venice, as resident at that state. He died at White- 
 
336 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 to do, fell in love with Lady Shrewsbury ; and, as Lady 
 Shrewsbury, by a very extraordinary chance, had no en- 
 gagement at that time, their amour was soon established. 
 No one thought of interrupting an intimacy which did 
 not concern any one ; but Killegrew thought proper to 
 disturb it himself. Not that his happiness fell short of 
 his expectation, nor did possession put him out of love 
 with a situation so enviable ; but he was amazed that he 
 was not envied, and offended that his good fortune raised 
 him no rivals. 
 
 He possessed a great deal of wit, and still more elo- 
 quence, which most particularly displayed itself when 
 he was a little elevated with the juice of the grape : he 
 then indulged himself in giving luxurious descriptions 
 of Lady Shrewsbury's most secret charms and beauties, 
 which above half the court were as well acquainted with 
 as himself 
 
 The Duke of Buckingham was one of those who could 
 only judge from outward appearances : and appearances, 
 in his opinion, did not seem to promise anything so ex- 
 quisite as the extravagant praises of Killegrew would 
 infer. As this indiscreet lover was a frequent guest at 
 the Duke of Buckingham's table, he was continually 
 employing his rhetoric on this subject, and he had full 
 opportunity for his harangues ; for they generally sat 
 down to dinner at four o'clock, and only rose just in 
 time for the play in the evening. 
 
 The Duke of Buckingham, whose ears were contin- 
 ually deafened with descriptions of Lady Shrewsbury's 
 merits, resolved at last to examine into the truth of the 
 matter himself As soon as he had made the experi- 
 ment, he was satisfied; and, though he fancied that fame 
 did not exceed the truth, yet this intrigue began in such 
 a manner that it was generally believed its duration 
 
 hall, igtli March., 1682, bewailed, as it is said, by his friends, and truly 
 wept for by the poor. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 337 
 
 would be short, considering the fickleness of both par- 
 ties, and the vivacity with which they had engaged in 
 it : nevertheless, no amour in England ever continued 
 so long. 
 
 The imprudent Killegrew, who could not be satisfied 
 without rivals, was obliged, in the end, to be satisfied 
 without a mistress. This he bqre very impatiently; but 
 so far was Lady Shrewsbury from hearkening to, or 
 afibrding any redress for the grievances at first com- 
 plained of, that she pretended even not to know him. 
 His spirit could not brook such treatment ; and, without 
 ever considering that he was the author of his own dis- 
 grace, he let loose all his abusive eloquence against her 
 ladyship: he attacked her with the most bitter invectives 
 from head to foot : he drew a frightful picture of her 
 conduct ; and turned all her personal charms, which he 
 used to extol, into defects. He was privately warned of 
 the inconveniences to which these declamations might 
 subject him, but despised the advice, and, persisting, he 
 soon had reason to repent it. 
 
 As he was returning one evening from the Duke of 
 York's apartments at St. James's, three passes with a 
 sword were made at him through his chair, one of which 
 went entirely through his arm. Upon this, he was sen- 
 sible of the danger to which his intemperate tongue had 
 exposed him, over and above the loss of his mistress. 
 The assassins made their escape across the Park, not 
 doubting but they had dispatched him. 
 
 Killegrew thought that all complaints would be use- 
 less ; for what redress from justice could he expect for 
 an attempt of which his wounds were his only evidence? 
 And, besides, he was convinced that if he began a prose- 
 cution founded upon appearances and conjectures, the 
 parties concerned would take the shortest and most effec- 
 tual means to put a stop to all inquiries upon the subject, 
 and that their second attempt would not prove ineffec- 
 tual. Being desirous, therefore, of deserving mercy 
 22 
 
338 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 from those who had endeavored to assassinate him, he 
 no longer continued his satires, and said not a word of 
 the adventure. The Duke of Buckingham and I^ady 
 Shrewsbury remained for a long period both happy and 
 contented. * Never before had her constancy been of so 
 long a duration; nor had he ever been so submissive and 
 respectful a lover. 
 
 This continued until lyord Shrewsbury, who never 
 before had shown the least uneasiness at his lady's mis- 
 conduct, thought proper to resent this : it was public 
 enough, indeed, but less dishonorable to her than any 
 of her former intrigues. Poor Lord Shrewsbury, too 
 polite a man to make any reproaches to his wife, was 
 resolved to have redress for his injured honor: he accord- 
 ingly challenged the Duke of Buckingham ; and the 
 Duke of Buckingham, as a reparation for his honor, hav- 
 ing killed him upon the spot, remained a peaceable pos- 
 sessor of this famous Helen. The public was at first 
 shocked at the transaction; but the public grows familiar 
 with everything by habit, and by degrees both decency 
 and even virtue itself are rendered tame and overcome. 
 The queen was at the head of those who exclaimed 
 against so public and scandalous a crime, and against the 
 impunity of such a wicked act. As the Duchess of 
 Buckingham t was a short, fat body, like her majesty, 
 
 * In a letter from Andrew Marvel, dated August 9, 1671, lie says : 
 "Buckingham runs out all with the Lady Shrewsbury, whom he be- 
 lieves he had a son (by) to whom the king stood godfather : it died 
 young Barl of Coventry, and was buried in the sepulchre of his 
 fathers." — Marvels Works, vol. i., p. 406. The duel in which the Earl 
 of Shrewsbury was killed by the Duke of Buckingham happened i6th 
 March, 1667. 
 
 t Mary, Duchess of Buckingham, was the only daughter of Thomas, 
 l/ord Fairfax, and Anne, the daughter of Horace, Lord Vere ; a most 
 virtuous and pious lady, in a vicious age and court. If she had any of 
 the vanities, she had certainly none of the vices of it. The duke and 
 she lived lovingly and decently together ; she patiently bearing with 
 those faults in him which she could not remedy. She survived him 
 many years, and died near St James's, at Westminster, and was buried 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 339 
 
 who never had had any children, and whom her husband 
 had abandoned for another ; this sort of parallel in their 
 situations interested the queen in her favor ; but it 
 was all in vain : no person paid any attention to them ; 
 the licentiousness of the age went on uncontrolled 
 though the queen endeavored to raise up the serious part 
 of the nation, the politicians and devotees, as enemies 
 against it. 
 
 DUCHESS OF BUCKINGHAM. 
 
 The fate of this princess was in many cases truly mel- 
 ancholy : the king, indeed, paid her every outward 
 attention ; but that was all : she easily perceived that 
 the respect he entertained for her daily diminished, in 
 proportion as the credit of her rivals increased : she saw 
 
 in the vault of the family of Villiers, in Henry VII. 's chapel, anno 
 1705, setat 66." — Brian Fairfax's Life of the Duke of Buckingham, 
 4to., 1758, p. 39. 
 
340 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 that the king, her husband, was now totally indifferent 
 about legitimate children, since his all-charming mis- 
 tresses bore him others. As all the happiness of her 
 life depended upon that blessing, and as she flattered her- 
 self that the king would prove kinder to her if Heaven 
 would vouchsafe to grant her desires, she had recourse to 
 all the celebrated secrets against sterility : pious vows, 
 nine days' prayers, and offerings having been tried in all 
 manners, but all to no purpose, she was at last obliged 
 to return to natural means. 
 
 What would she have given on this occasion for the 
 ring which Archbishop Turpin wore on his finger, and 
 which made Charlemagne run after him, in the same 
 manner as it had made him run after one of his concu- 
 bines, from whose finger Turpin had taken it after her 
 death ! But it is now many years since the only talis- 
 mans for creating love are the charms of the person 
 beloved, and foreign enchantments have been looked 
 upon as ineffectual. The queen's physicians, men of 
 great prudence, sagacity," and wisdom, as they always 
 are, having duly weighed and considered that the cold 
 waters of Tunbridge had not succeeded in the preceding 
 year, concluded that it would be advisable for her to try 
 the warm baths at Bristol. * This journey was therefore 
 fixed for the next season ; and in the confidence of its 
 
 * I believe that Bath, not Bristol, is the place intended by the author. 
 Queen Katherine's visit to the former place was earlier than to Tun- 
 bridge, being about the latter end of September, 1663. See Wood's 
 Description of Bath, vol. i., p. 217. I do not find she ever was at 
 Bristol, but at the time mentioned in the following extract : 
 
 " 1663. Sir John Knight, mayor. John Broadway, Richard Stremer, 
 sheriff's. 
 
 "The 5th of September, the king and queen, with James, Duke of 
 York, and his Duchess, and Prince Rupert, etc., came to Bristol, and 
 were splendidly received and entertained by the mayor, at a dinner 
 provided on the occasion. They returned to Bath at four o'clock. 150 
 pieces of ordnance were discharged in the Marsh, at three distinct 
 times." — Barrett's History, etc., of Bristol, p. 692. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 341 
 
 proving effectual, this excursion would have afforded her 
 much pleasure, if the most dangerous of her rivals had 
 not been one of the first that was appointed to attend the 
 court. The Duchess of Cleveland being then near her 
 time, there was no uneasiness on her account ; the com- 
 mon rules of decency required a little attention. The 
 public, it is true, was not either more or less acquainted 
 with the circumstances of her situation; by the care 
 which she now took to conceal it ; but her appearing at 
 court in her present condition would have been too great 
 an insult to the queen. Miss Stewart, more handsome 
 than ever, was appointed for this excursion, and began 
 to make magnificent preparations. The poor queen 
 durst say nothing against it; but all hopes of success 
 immediately forsook her. What could the baths, or the 
 feeble virtue of the waters perform against charms that 
 entirely counteracted their effects, either through the 
 grief and uneasiness they occasioned her, or by their 
 still more powerful consequences ? 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, to whom all pleasures 
 were insipid without the presence of Miss Hamilton, 
 was yet unable to excuse himself from attending the 
 court: the king delighted too much in his sprightly con- 
 versation to leave him behind; and however pleasing 
 his company might have been in the solitude occasioned 
 by the absence of the court. Miss Hamilton did not 
 think it right to accept his offer of staying in town, 
 because she was obliged to remain there : she, however, 
 granted him the permission of writing her an account of 
 any news that might occur upon the journey. He failed 
 not to make use of this permission, in such a manner as 
 one may imagine; and his own concerns took up so much 
 space in his letters, that there was very little room left 
 for other subjects during his stay at the baths. As 
 absence from the object of his affections rendered this 
 place insupportable, he engaged in everything that 
 might dissipate his impatience, until the happy moment 
 of return arrived. 
 
342 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOKT. 
 
 He had a great esteem for the elder of the Hamiltons ; 
 no less esteem, and far more friendship for his brother, 
 whom he made the confidant of his passion and attach- 
 ment for his sister. The Chevalier was also acquainted 
 with his first engagements with his cousin Wetenhall ; 
 but being ignorant of the coldness that had interrupted 
 a commerce so brisk in its commencement, he was sur- 
 prised at the eagerness he showed upon all occasions to 
 please Miss Stewart: his assiduity appeared to the Chev- 
 alier de Grammont to exceed those civilities and atten- 
 tions that are usually paid for the purpose of making 
 court to the favorites of princes. He observed him more 
 strictly, ^nd soon perceived that he was deeper in love 
 with her than was consistent either with his fortune or 
 his repose. As soon as the remarks he made had con- 
 firmed him in his suspicions, he resolved to use his 
 endeavors to prevent the consequences of an engage- 
 ment pernicious in every respect : but he waited for 
 a proper opportunity of speaking to him upon the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 In the meantime, the court enjoyed every kind of 
 diversion, in a place where amusement is sought with 
 avidity. The game of bowls, which in France is the 
 pastime of mechanics and servants only, Is quite the 
 contrary in England, where it is the exercise of gentle- 
 men, and requires both art and address: it is only in use 
 during the fair and dry part of the season, and the places 
 where it is practised are charming, delicious walks, 
 called bowling-greens, which are little square grass-plots, 
 where the turf is almost as smooth and level as the cloth 
 of a billiard table. As soon as the heat of the day is 
 over, all the company assemble there : they play deep : 
 and spectators are at liberty to make what bets they 
 please. 
 
 The Chevalier de Grammont, long before initiated in 
 the English games and diversions, had been engaged in 
 a horse-race, in which he was indeed unsuccessful ; but 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOnT. 343 
 
 he had the satisfaction of being convinced by experience, 
 that an English horse can go twenty miles upon the high 
 road in less than an hour. He was more fortunate at 
 cock-fighting; and, in the bets he made at the bowling- 
 green, the party he betted upon never failed to win. 
 
 Near all these places of diversion there is usually a 
 sort of inn, or house of entertainment, with a bower or 
 arbor, in which are sold all sorts of English liquors, such 
 as cider, mead, bottled beer, and Spanish wines. Here 
 the rooks meet every evening to drink, smoke, and to 
 try their skill upon each other, or, in other words, to 
 endeavor to trick one another out of the winnings of the 
 day. These ro9ks are, properly speaking, what we call 
 capons or piqueurs in France; men who always carry 
 money about them, to enable them to lend to losing 
 gamesters, for which they receive a gratification, which 
 is nothing for such as play deep, as it is only two per ' 
 cent. , and the money to be repaid the next day. 
 
 These gentlemen are so nice in their calculations, and 
 so particularly skilful in all manner of games, that no 
 person would dare to enter the lists with them, were 
 they even assured that no unfairness would be practised. 
 Besides, they make a vow to win four or five guineas a 
 day, and to be satisfied with that gain; a vow which they 
 seldom or never break. 
 
 It was in the midst of a company of these rooks, that 
 'Hamilton found the Chevalier de , Grammont, when 
 he called in one evening to get a glass of cider. They 
 were playing at hazard ; and as he who holds the dice is 
 supposed to have the advantage, the rooks did the Chev- 
 alier de Grammont that honor out of compliment: he had 
 the dice in his hand when Hamilton came into the room. 
 The rooks, secure of their odds, were betting against him 
 at a high rate, and he took all. 
 
 Hamilton could hardly believe his eyes, to see a man 
 of his experience and knowledge engaged in so unequal 
 a contest; but it was to no purpose that he informed him 
 
S44 MEMOIRS OP COrNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 of his danger, botli aloud in French, and in private by 
 signs; he still disregarded his warnings, and the dice, 
 that bore Csesar and his fortunes, performed a miracle in 
 his favor. The rooks were defeated for the first time, 
 but not without bestowing upon him all the encomiums 
 and praises of being a very fair and honorable player, 
 which they never fail to lavish upon those whom they 
 wish to engage a second time; but all their commenda- 
 tions were lost, and their hopes deceived: the Chevalier 
 was satisfied with the first experiment. 
 
 Hamilton, when the king was at supper, related to him 
 how he found the Chevalier de Grammont rashly en- 
 gaged with the rooks, and in what manner he had been 
 providentially preserved. ' ' Indeed, Sir, ' ' said the Chev- 
 alier de Grammont, "the rooks were discomfited for 
 once;" and thereupon related the adventure to His 
 Majesty in his usual way, attracting the attention of all 
 the company, to a circumstance trifling in itself, but 
 rendered interesting by his humor. 
 
 After supper Miss Stewart, in whose apdrtment there 
 was play, called Hamilton to her to tell the story. The 
 Chevalier de Grammont, perceiving that she attended to 
 him with pleasure, was fully confirmed in the truth of 
 his first conjectures; and, having carried Hamilton home 
 with him to supper, they began to discourse freely to- 
 gether as usual: "George," said the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont, ' ' are you in any want of money? I know you 
 love play: perhaps it may not be so favorable to you as 
 it is to me. We are at a great distance from L,ondon. 
 Here are two hundred guineas: take them, I beseech 
 you; they will do to play with at Miss Stewart's." 
 Hamilton, who little expected this conclusion, was 
 rather disconcerted. "How? at Miss Stewart's!" 
 "Yes, in her apartments. Friend George," continued 
 the Chevalier de Grammont, "I have not yet lost my 
 eyes: you are in love with her, and, if I am not mistaken, 
 she is not oflfended at it; but tell me how you could 
 
MEMOIRS O^ COUNf GRAMMONT. 345 
 
 resolve to banfsh poor Wetenhall from your heart, and 
 suffer yourself to be infatuated with a girl, who perhaps 
 after all is not worth the other, and who, besides, what- 
 ever favorable dispositions she may have for you, will 
 undoubtedly in the end prove your ruin. Faith, your 
 brother and you are two pretty fellows in your choice. 
 What! can you find no other beauties in all the court to 
 fall in love with except the king's two mistresses! As 
 for the elder brother, I can pardon him: he only took 
 Lady Castlemaine after his master had done with her, 
 and after L,ady Chesterfield had discarded him; but, as 
 for you, what the devil do you intend to do with a creat- 
 ure on whom the king seems every day to dote with 
 increasing fondness? Is it because that drunken sot 
 Richmond has again come forward, and now declares 
 himself one of her professed admirers? You will soon 
 see what he will make by it: I have not forgotten what 
 the king said to me upon the subject. 
 
 "Believe me, my dear friend, there is no playing 
 tricks with our masters; I mean, there is no ogling their 
 mistresses. I myself wanted to play the agreeable in 
 France with a little coquette whom the king did not care 
 about, and you know how dearly I paid for it. I confess 
 she gives you fair play, but do not trust to her. All the 
 sex feel an unspeakable satisfaction at having men in 
 their train, whom they care not for, and to use them as 
 their slaves of state, merely to swell their equipage. 
 Would it not be a great deal better to pass a week or ten 
 days incognito at Peckham, with the philosopher Weten- 
 hall' s wife, than to have it inserted in the Dutch Gazette 
 — We hear from Bristol that such a one is banished the 
 court on account of Miss Stewart, and that he is going 
 to make a campaign in Guinea* on board the fleet that 
 
 *This expedition was intended to have taken place in 1664. A full 
 account of it, and how it came to be laid aside, may be seen in the 
 Continuation of Clarendon'' s Life, p. 225. 
 
346 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 is fitting otit for the expedition, under the command of 
 Prince Rupert?" 
 
 Hamilton, who was the more convinced of the truth 
 of this discourse, the more he considered it, after musing 
 some time, appeared to wake from a dream, and address- 
 ing himself with an air of gratitude to the Chevalier de 
 Grammont: "Of all the men in the world, my dear 
 friend," said he, "you have the most agreeable wit, and 
 at the same time the clearest judgment with respect to 
 your friends: what you have told me has opened my 
 eyes. I began to suffer myself to be seduced by the most 
 ridiculous illusion imaginable, and to be hurried away 
 rather by frivolous appearances than any real inclination: 
 to you I owe the obligation of having preserved me from 
 destruction at the very brink of a precipice. This is not 
 the only kindness you have done me — your favors have 
 been innumerable; and, as a proof of my gratitude for 
 this last, I will follow your advice, and go into retire- 
 ment at my cousin Wetenhall's, to eradicate from my 
 recollection every trace of those chimeras which lately 
 possessed my brain ; but so far from going thither incog- 
 nito, I will take you along with me, as soon as the court 
 returns to lyondon. My sister shall likewise be of the 
 party, for it is prudent to use all precautions with a man 
 who, with a great deal of merit, on such occasions is not 
 over-scrupulous, if we may credit your philosopher." 
 "Do not pay any attention to that pedant," replied the 
 Chevalier de Grammont; "but tell me what put it into 
 your head to form a design upon that inanimate statue, 
 Miss Stewart?" "How the devil should I know?" said 
 Hamilton; "you are acquainted with all her childish 
 amusements. The old I^ord Carlingford* was at her 
 apartment one evening, showing her how to hold a 
 
 * Sir Theobald TaaflFe, the second Viscount Taaffe, created Earl of 
 Carlingford, in the county of Louth, by privy seal, 17th June, 1661, 
 and by patent, 26th June, 1662. — He died 31st December, 1677. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 34? 
 
 lighted wax candle in her mouth, and the grand secret 
 consisted in keeping the burning end there a long time 
 without its being extinguished. I have, thank God, a 
 pretty large mouth, and, in order to out-do her teacher, 
 I took two candles into my mouth at the same time, and 
 walked three times round the room without their going 
 out. Every person present adjudged me the prize of this 
 illustrious experiment, and Killegrew maintained that 
 nothing but a lanthorn could stand in competition with 
 me. Upon this she was like to die with laughing; and 
 thus was I admitted into the familiarity of her amuse- 
 ments. It is impossible to deny her being one of the 
 most charming creatures that ever was : since the court 
 has been in the country I have had a hundred opportu- 
 nities of seeing her, which I had not before. You know 
 that the dishabille of the bath is a great convenience for 
 those ladies who, strictly adhering to all the rules of 
 decorum, are yet desirous to display all their charms and 
 attractions. Miss Stewart is so fully acquainted with the 
 advantages she possesses over all other women, that it is 
 hardly possible to praise any lady at court for a well- 
 turned arm, and a fine leg, but she is ever ready to dis- 
 pute the point by demonstration; and I really believe 
 that, with a little address, it would not be difficult to 
 induce her to strip naked, without ever reflecting upon 
 what she was doing. After all, a man must be very 
 insensible to remain unconcerned and unmoved on such 
 happy occasions; and, besides, the good opinion we 
 entertain of ourselves is apt to make us think a woman 
 is smitten as soon as she distinguishes us by habitual 
 familiarity, which most commonly signifies nothing. 
 This is the truth of the matter with respect to myself: 
 my own presumption, her beauty, the brilliant station 
 that sets it oflF, and a thousand kind things she had said 
 to me, prevented me from making serious reflections; but 
 then,' as some excuse for my folly, I must likewise tell 
 you that the facility I found in making her the tenderest 
 
348 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 declarations by commending her, and her telling me in 
 confidence a thousand things which she ought not to 
 have entrusted me with, might have deceived or infatu- 
 ated any other man as well as myself. 
 
 ' ' I presented her with one of the prettiest "horses in 
 England. You know what peculiar grace and elegance 
 distinguish her on horseback. The king, who, of all the 
 diversions of the chase, likes none but hawking, because 
 it is the most convenient for the ladies, went out the 
 other day to take this amusement, attended by all the 
 beauties of his court. His majesty having galloped after 
 a falcon, and the whole bright squadron after him, the 
 rustling of Miss Stewart's petticoats frightened her horse, 
 which was at full speed, endeavoring to come up with 
 mine, that had been his companion ; so that I was the 
 only witness of a disorder in her clothes, which displayed 
 a thousand new beauties to my view. I had the good 
 fortune to make such gallant and flattering exclamations 
 upon that charming disorder as to prevent her being con- 
 cerned or out of countenance upon it : on the contrary, 
 this subject of my admiration has been frequently since 
 the subject of our conversation, and did not seem to dis- 
 please her. 
 
 ' ' Old Ivord Carlingford, and that mad fellow, Crofts * 
 (for I must now make you my general confession), those 
 insipid buffoons, were frequently telling her some divert- 
 ing stories, which passed pretty well with the help of a 
 few old threadbare jests, or some apish tricks in the re- 
 cital, which made her laugh heartily. As for myself, 
 who know no stories, and do not possess the talent of 
 
 * William, Baron of Crofts, groom of the stole, and gentleman of 
 the bed-chamber to the Duke of York ; captain of a regiment of 
 guards of the queen-mother, gentleman of the bed-chamber to the 
 king, and ambassador to Poland. He had been sent to France by the 
 Duke of York, to congratulate Ivouis XIV. on the birth of the dauphin. 
 See Biog. Brit, old Ed., vol. iv., p. 2738, and Continuation oj Claren- 
 don, p. 294. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 349 
 
 improving them by telling, if I did know any, I was often 
 greatly embarrassed when she desired me to tell her one: 
 'I do not know one, indeed,' said I, one day when she 
 was teazing me on the subject. ' Invent one, then,' said 
 she. 'That would be still more difficult,' replied I; 
 ' but if you will give me leave, madam, I will relate to 
 you a very extraordinary dream, which has, however, 
 less appearance of truth in it than dreams generally 
 have. ' This excited her curiosity, which would brook 
 no denial. I therefore began to tell her that the most 
 beautiful creature in the world, whom I loved to distrac- 
 tion, paid me a visit in my sleep. I then drew her own 
 portrait, with a rapturous description of all her beauties; 
 adding, that this goddess, who came to visit me with the 
 most favorable intentions, did not counteract them by 
 any unreasonable cruelty. This was not sufficient to 
 satisfy Miss Stewart's curiosity : I was obliged to relate 
 every particular circumstance of the kindness I experi- 
 enced from this delicate phantom ; to which, she was so 
 very attentive, that she never once appeared surprised 
 or disconcerted at the luscious tale. On the contrary, 
 she made me repeat the description of the beauty, which 
 I drew as near as possible after her own person, and after 
 such charms as I imagined of beauties that were un- 
 known to me. 
 
 " This is, in fact, t^ie very thing that had almost de- 
 prived me of my senses : she knew very well that she 
 herself was the person I was describing : we were alone, 
 as you may imagine, when I told her this story ; and my 
 eyes did their utmost to persuade her that it was herself 
 whom I drew. I perceived that she was not in the least 
 oflfended at knowing this ; nor was her modesty in the 
 least alarmed at the relation of a fiction, which I might 
 have concluded in a manner still less discreet, if I had 
 thought proper. This patient audience made me plunge 
 headlong into the ocean of flattering ideas that presented 
 themselves to my imagination. I then no longer thought 
 
350 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 of the king, nor how passionately fond he was of, her, 
 nor of the dangers attendant upon such an engagement ; 
 in short, I know not what the devil I was thinking of : 
 but I am very certain that, if you had not been thinking 
 for me, I might have found my ruin in the midst of these 
 distracted visions." 
 
 Not long after, the court returned to London ; and 
 from that time, some malevolent star having gained the 
 ascendant, everything went cross in the empire of Love: 
 vexation, suspicions, or jealousies, first entered the field, 
 to set all hearts at variance ; next, false reports, slander, 
 and disputes, completed the ruin of all. 
 
 The Duchess of Cleveland had been brought to bed 
 while the court was at Bristol ; and never before had she 
 recovered from her lying-in with such a profusion of 
 charms. This made her believe that she was in a proper 
 state to retrieve her ancient rights over the king's heart, 
 if she had an opportunity of appearing before him with 
 this increased splendor. Her friends being of the same 
 opinion, her equipage was prepared for this expedition ; 
 but the very evening before the day she had fixed on to 
 set out, she saw young Churchill,* and was at once 
 seized with a disease, which had more than once opposed 
 her projects, and which she could never completely get 
 the better of 
 
 * Afterwards the celebrated Duke of Marlborough. He was born 
 midsummer day, 1650, and died June 16, 1722. Bishop Burnet takes 
 notice of the discovery of this intrigue. ' ' The Duchess of Cleveland 
 finding that she had lost the king, abandoned herself to great dis- 
 orders ; one of which, by the artifice of the Duke of Buckingham, was 
 discovered by the king in person, the party concerned leaping out of 
 the window." — History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 370. This was in 
 1668. A very particular account of this intrigue is to be seen in the 
 Atalantis of Mrs. Manley, vol. i., p. 30. The same writer, who had 
 lived as companion to the Duchess of Cleveland, says, in the account 
 of her own life, that she was an eye-witness when the duke, who had 
 received thousands from the duchess, refused the common civility of 
 lending her twenty guineas at basset. — 7%^ History of Rivella, 4th ed., 
 1725, p. 33. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. oSI 
 
 A man who, from an ensign in the guards, was raised 
 to such a fortune, must certainly possess an uncommon 
 share of prudence, not to be intoxicated with his happi- 
 ness. Churchill boasted in all places of the new favor 
 he had received : the Duchess of Cleveland, who neither 
 recommended to him circumspection in his behavior, nor 
 in his conversation, did not seem to be in the least con- 
 cerned at his indiscretion. Thus this intrigue was be- 
 come a general topic in all companies, when the court 
 arrived in L,ondon, and occasioned an immense num- 
 ber of speculations and reasonings : some said she had 
 already presented him with Jermyn's pension and Jacob 
 Hall's salary, because the merits and qualifications of 
 both were united in his person : others maintained that 
 he had too indolent an air, and too delicate a shape, long 
 to maintain himself in her favor ; but all agreed that a 
 man who was the favorite of the king's mistress, and 
 brother to the duke's favorite, was in a fair way of pre- 
 ferment, and could not fail to make his fortune. As a 
 proof, the Duke of York soon after gave him a place in 
 his household : this was naturally to be expected ; but 
 the king, who did not think that Lady Cleveland's kind- 
 ness to him was a sufficient recommendation to his favor, 
 thought proper to forbid him the court. 
 
 This good-natured king began now to be rather 
 peevish : nor was it altogether without reason : he dis- 
 turbed no person in their amours, and yet others had 
 often the presumption to encroach upon his. Lord 
 Dorset, first lord 'of the bed-chamber, had lately de- 
 bauched from his service Nell Gwyn, the actress.* 
 
 * On this passage, the first translator of this work, Mr. Boyer, has 
 the following note : ' ' The author of these memoirs is somewhat mistaken 
 in this particular ; for Nell Gwyn was my Lord Dorset's mistress, before 
 the king fell in love with her ; and I was told by the late Mr. Dryden, 
 that the king, having a mind to get her from his lordship, sent him upon 
 a sleeveless errand to France. However, it is not improbable that Nell 
 was afterwards kind to her first lover." Of the early part of Nell's 
 
S62 MEMOIRS OF. COUNT GRAMMOI^T. 
 
 Lady Cleveland, whom he now no longer regarded, con- 
 tinued to disgrace him by repeated infidelities with un- 
 worthy rivals, and almost ruined him by the immense 
 
 life, little is known but what may be collected from the lampoons of 
 the times ; in which it is said that she was born in a night-cellar, sold 
 fish about the streets, rambled from tavern to tavern, entertaining the 
 company after dinner and supper with songs (her voice being very 
 agreeable) ; was next taken into the house of Madame Ross, a noted 
 courtezan ; and was afterwards admitted into the theatre, where she 
 became the mistress of both Hart and Lacey, the celebrated actors. 
 Other accounts say she was born in a cellar in the Coal-yard in Drury- 
 lane ; and that she was first taken notice of when selling oranges in the 
 play-house. She belonged to the king's company at Drury-lane, and, 
 according to Downes, was received as an actress a few years after that 
 house was opened, in 1663. The first notice I find of her is in the year 
 1668, when she performed in Dryden's play of "Secret Love;" after 
 which she may be traced every year until 1672, when I conjecture she 
 quitted the stage. Her forte appears to have been comedy. In an 
 epilogue to " Tyrannic Love," spoken by her, she says 
 
 1 walk, because I die 
 
 Out of my calling in a tragedy. 
 
 And from the same authority it may be collected that her person was 
 small, and she was negligent in her dress. Her son, the Duke of St 
 Albans, was bom before she left the stage, viz., May 8, 1670. Bishop 
 Burnet speaks of her in these terms :. ' ' Gwyn, the indiscreetest and wild- 
 est creature that ever was in a court, continued, to the end of the king's 
 life, in great favor, and was maintained at a vast expense. The Duke 
 of Buckingham told me, that when she was first brought to the king, 
 she asked only 500 pounds a-year, and the king refused it. But when 
 he told me this, about four years after, he said she had got of the king 
 above 60,000 pounds. She acted all persons in so lively a manner, 
 and was such a constant diversion to the king, that even a new mis- 
 tress could not drive her way ; but, after all, he never treated her 
 with the decencies of a mistress. " — History of his Own Times, vol. i., 
 p. 369. The same author notices the king's attention to her on his 
 death-bed. Cibber, who was dissatisfied with the bishop's account of 
 Nell, says, — " If we consider her in all the disadvantages of her rank 
 and education, she does not appear to have had any criminal errors, 
 more remarkable than her sex's frailty, to answer for ; and if the same 
 author, in his latter end of that prince's life, seems to reproach his 
 memory with too kind a concern for her support, we may allow it be- 
 comes a bishop to have had no eyes or taste for the frivolous charms or 
 playful badinage of a king's mistress. Yet, if the common fame of her 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 353 
 
 sums she lavished on her gallants ; but that which most 
 sensibly aflfected him, was the late coldness and threats 
 of Miss Stewart. He long since had offered her all the 
 
 may be believed, which, in my memory, was not doubted, she had less 
 to be laid to her charge than any other of those ladies who were in the 
 same state of preferment. She never meddled in matters of serious 
 moment, or was the tool of working politicians ; never broke into those 
 amorous infidelities which others, in that grave author, are accused of; 
 but was as visibly distinguished by her particular personal inclination 
 to the king, as her rivals were by their titles and grandeur." — Gibber's 
 Apology, 8vo, p. 450. One of Madame S^vign^'s letters exhibits no bad 
 portrait of Mrs. Gwyn. — "Mademoiselle de K (Kerouaille, after- 
 wards Duchess of Portsmouth) has not been disappointed in anything 
 she proposed. She desired to be mistress to the king, and she is so : 
 he lodges with her almost every night, in the face of all the court : she 
 has had a son, who has been acknowledged, and presented with two 
 duchies : she amasses treasure, and makes herself feared and respected 
 by as many as she can. But she did not foresee that she should find a 
 young actress in her way, whom the king dotes on ; and she has it not in 
 her power to withdraw him from her. He divides his care, his time, and 
 his health, between these two. The actress is as haughty as Mademoi- 
 selle : she insults her, she makes grimaces at her, she attacks her, she 
 frequently steals the king from her, and boasts whenever he gives her 
 the preference. She is young, indiscreet, confident, wild, and of an 
 agreeable humor : she sings, she dances, she acts her part with a good 
 grace. She has a son by the king, and hopes to have him acknowledged. 
 As to Mademoiselle, she reasons thus : This duchess, says she, pretends 
 to be a person of quality : she says she is related to the best families in 
 Prance : whenever any person of distinction dies, she puts herself in 
 mourning.— If she be a lady of such quality, why does she demean her- 
 self to be a courtezan ? She ought to die with shame. As for me, it is 
 my profession : I do not pretend to anything better. He has a son by 
 me : I pretend that he ought to acknowledge him ; and I am well 
 assured he will ; for he loves me as well as Mademoiselle. This crea- 
 ture gets the upper hand, and discountenances and embarrasses the 
 duchess ^sirGmAy."— Letter 92. Mr. Pennant says, "She resided at 
 her house, in what was then called Pall-Mall. It is the first good one 
 on the left hand of St. James's-square, as we enter from Pall-Mali. The 
 back-room on the ground floor was (within memory) entirely of looking 
 glass, as was said to have been the ceiling. Over the chimney was her 
 picture ; and that of her sister was in a third room."— London, p. 101. 
 At this house she died, in the year 1691, and was pompously interred 
 in the parish church of St. Martin's in the fields ; Dr. Tennison, then 
 vicar, and afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, preaching her funeral 
 23 
 
S64 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 settlements and all the titles she could desire, until lie 
 had an opportunity more effectually to provide for her, 
 which she had pretended only to decline, for fear of the 
 scandal they might occasion, on her being raised to a 
 rank which would attract the public notice ; but since 
 the return of the court, she had given herself other airs : 
 sometimes she was for retiring from court, to appease 
 the continual uneasiness her presence gave the queen : 
 at other times it was to avoid temptations, by which she 
 wished to insinuate that her innocence was still pre- 
 served : in short, the king's heart was continually dis- 
 tracted by alarms, or oppressed by humor and caprice. 
 
 As he could not for his life imagine what Miss Stewart 
 wished him to do, or what she would be at, he thought 
 upon reforming his establishment of mistresses, to try 
 whether jealousy was not the real occasion of her uneasi- 
 ness. It was for this reason that, after having solemnly 
 declared he would have nothing more to say to the 
 Duchess of Cleveland, since her intrigue with Churchill, 
 he discarded, without any exception, all the other mis- 
 tresses which he had in the various parts of the town. 
 The Nell Gwyns, the Misses Davis, * and the joyous train 
 
 sermon. This sermon, we learn, was shortly afterwards brought for- 
 wards at court by Lord Jersey, to impede the doctor's preferment : hut 
 Queen Mary, having heard the objection, answered — " What then? " in 
 a sort of discomposure to which she was but little subject; "I have 
 heard as much : this is a sign that that poor unfortunate woman died 
 penitent ; for, if I can read a man's heart through his looks, had not she 
 made a pious and Christian end, the doctor could never have been in- 
 duced to speak well of her." — Life of Dr. Thomas Tennison,'^. 20. 
 Gibber also says, he had been unquestionably informed that our fair 
 offender's repentance appeared in all the contrite symptoms of a Chris- 
 tian sincerity. — Gibber's Apology, p. 451. 
 
 *Mrs. Mary Davis was an actress belonging to the duke's theatre. 
 She was, according to Downes, one of the four female performers who 
 boarded in Sir William Davenant's own house, and was on the stage as 
 early as 1664, her name being to be seen in The Stepmother, acted in 
 that year. She performed the character of Celia in The Rivals, altered 
 by Davenant from the Two Noble Kinsmen of Fletcher and Shake- 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT- 
 
 356 
 
 of singers and dancers in His Majesty's theatre, were all 
 dismissed. All these sacrifices were inefiectual : Miss 
 Stewart continued to torment, and almost to drive the 
 king to distraction ; but His Majesty soon after found out 
 the real -cause of this coldness. 
 
 This discovery was owing to the officious Duchess of 
 Cleveland, who, ever since her disgrace, had railed most 
 bitterly against Miss Stewart as the cause of it, and 
 
 MISS DAVIS. 
 
 against the king's weakness, who, for an inanimate 
 idiot, had treated her with so much indignity. As some 
 
 speare, in 1668 ; and in singing several wild and mad songs, so charmed 
 His Majesty, that she was from that time received into his favor, and had 
 by him a daughter, Mary Tudor, born October, 1673 ; married in 
 August, 1687, to Francis RatclifF, Earl of Derwentwater. Burnet says. 
 Miss Davis did not keep her hold on the king long ; which may be 
 doubted, as her daughter was born four years after she was first noticed 
 by His Majesty. 
 
356 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 of her grace's creatures were still in the king's confidence, 
 by their means she was informed of the king's uneasi- 
 ness, and that Miss Stewart's behavior was the occasion 
 of it : and as soon as she had found the opportunity she 
 had so long wished for, she went directly into the king's 
 cabinet, through the apartment of one of his pages 
 called Chiffinch. This way was not new to her. 
 
 The king was just returned from visiting Miss Stewart 
 in a very ill humor; the presence of the Duchess of 
 Cleveland surprised him, and did not in the least dimin- 
 ish it: she, perceiving this, accosted him in an ironical 
 tone, and with a smile of indignation: "I hope," said 
 she, ' ' I may be allowed to pay you my homage, although 
 the angelic Stewart has forbid you to see me at my own 
 house. I will not make use of reproaches and expostu- 
 lations, which would disgrace myself: still less will I 
 endeavor to excuse frailties which nothing can justify, 
 since your constancy for me deprives me of all defence, 
 considering I am the only person you have honored with 
 your tenderness, who has made herself unworthy of it by 
 ill conduct. I come now, therefore, with no other intent 
 than to comfort and condole with you upon the affliction 
 and grief into which the coldness, or new-fashioned 
 chastity of the inhuman Stewart have reduced Your 
 Majesty. " These words were attended by a fit of laugh- 
 ter, as unnatural and strained, as it was insulting and 
 immoderate, which completed the king's impatience : 
 he had, indeed, expected that some bitter jest would fol- 
 low this preamble ; but he did not suppose she would 
 have given herself such blustering airs, considering the 
 terms they were then upon ; and as he was preparing to 
 answer her: " Be not offended, " said she, "that I take 
 the liberty of laughing at the gross manner in which you 
 are imposed upon : I cannot bear to see that such partic- 
 ular affectation should make you the jest of your own 
 court, and that you should be ridiculed with such impu- 
 nity. I know that the affected Stewart has sent you 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 357 
 
 away, under pretence of some indisposition, or perhaps 
 some scruple of conscience ; and I come to acquaint you 
 that the Duke of Richmond will soon be with her, if he 
 is not there already. I do not desire you to believe what 
 I say, since it might be suggested either through resent- 
 ment or envy: only follow me to her apartment, either 
 that, no longer trusting calumny and malice, you may 
 honor her with a just preference, if I accuse her falsely ; 
 or, if my information be true, you may no longer be the 
 dupe of a pretended prude, who makes you act so unbe- 
 coming and ridiculous a part." 
 
 As she ended this speech, she took him by the hand, 
 while he was yet undecided, and pulled him away to- 
 wards her rival's apartments. Chiffinch* being in her 
 interest, Miss Stewart could have no warning of the 
 visit ; and Babiani, who owed all to the Duchess of 
 Cleveland, and who served her admirably well upon this 
 occasion, came and told her that the Duke of Richmond 
 had just gone into Miss Stewart's chamber. It was in 
 the middle of a little gallery, which, through a private 
 door, led from the king's apartments to those of his 
 mistresses. The Duchess of Cleveland wished him good- 
 
 * The name of this person occurs very often in the secret history of 
 this reign. Wood, in enumerating the king's supper companions, 
 says, they meet "either in the lodgings of I/odovisa, Duchess of Ports- 
 mouth, or in those of Cheffing (Chiffinch), near the back stairs, or 
 
 in the apartment of Eleanor Quin (Gwyn), or in that of Baptist May ; 
 
 but he losing his credit Cheffing had the greatest trust among 
 
 them." AthencB Oxon., vol. ii., 1038. So great was the confidence re- 
 posed in him, that he was the receiver of the secret pensions paid by 
 the court of Prance to the King of England. — See the Duke of Leeds' 
 Letters, 1710, pp. 9, 17, 33. 
 
 Chiffinch's more important duties are intimated in the beginning of 
 a satirical poem of the time, entitled, "Sir Edmondbuty Godfrey's 
 Ghost." 
 
 It happen'd, in the twilight of the day, 
 As England's monarch in his closet lay, 
 And Chiffinch stepp'd to fetch the female prey. 
 The bloody shape of Godfrey did appear, etc. 
 
358 MEMoiRiS OF Count grammon*. 
 
 night, as he entered her rival's chamber, and retired, in 
 order to wait the success of the adventure, of which 
 Babiani, who attended the king, was charged to come 
 and give her an account. 
 
 It was near midnight : the king, in his way, met his 
 mistress's chamber-maids, who respectfully opposed his 
 entrance, and in a very low voice whispered His Majesty 
 that Miss Stewart had been very ill since he left her : 
 but that, being gone to bed, she was, God be thanked, 
 in a very fine sleep. "That I must see," said the king, 
 pushing her back, who had posted herself in his way. 
 He found Miss Stewart in bed, indeed, but far from 
 being asleep : the Duke of Richmond was seated at her 
 pillow, and in all probability was less inclined to sleep 
 than herself The perplexity of the one party, and the 
 rage of the other, were such as may easily be imagined 
 upon such a surprise. . The king, who, of all men, was 
 one of the most mild and gentle, testified his resentment 
 to the Duke of Richmond in such terms as he had never 
 before used. The duke was speechless, and almost pet- 
 rified : he saw his master and his king justly irritated. 
 The first transports which rage inspires on such occasions 
 are dangerous. Miss Stewart's window was very con- 
 venient for a sudden revenge, the Thames flowing close 
 beneath it : he cast his eyes upon it : and, seeing those 
 of the king more incensed and fired with indignation 
 than he thought his nature capable of, he made a pro- 
 found bow, and retired, without replying a single word 
 to the vast torrent of threats and menaces that were 
 poured upon him. 
 
 Miss Stewart, having a little recovered from her first 
 surprise, * instead of justifying herself, began to talk in 
 the most extravagant manner, and said everything that 
 was most capable to inflame the king's passion and re- 
 
 * See Bishop Burnet's account of Miss Stewart's marriage in his His- 
 tory of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 353. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 359 
 
 jentment ; that, if she were not allowed to receive visits 
 from a man of the Duke of Richmond's rank, who came 
 with honorable intentions, she was a slave in a free 
 country ; that she knew of no engagement that could 
 prevent her from disposing of her hand as she thought 
 proper ; but, however, if this was not permitted her in 
 his dominions, she did not believe that there was any 
 power on earth that could hinder her from going over to 
 France and throwing herself into a convent, to enjoy 
 there that tranquillity which was denied her in his court. 
 The king, sometimes furious with anger, sometimes re- 
 lenting at her tears, and sometimes terrified at her men- 
 aces, was so greatly agitated that he knew not how to 
 answer, either the nicety of a creature who wanted to 
 act the part of I^ucretia under his own eye, or the assur- 
 ance with which she had the eflfrontery to reproach him. 
 In this suspense, love had almost entirely vanquished all 
 his resentments, and had nearly induced him to throw 
 himself upon his knees and entreat pardon for the injury 
 he had done her, when she desired him to retire, and 
 leave her in repose at least for the remainder of that 
 night, without offending those who had either accom- 
 panied him, or conducted him to her apartments, by a 
 longer visit. This impertinent request provoked and 
 irritated him to the highest degree: he went out abruptly, 
 vowing never to see her more, and passed the most rest- 
 less and uneasy night he had ever experienced since his 
 restoration. 
 
 The next day the Duke of Richmond received orders 
 to quit the court, and never more to appear before 
 the king ; but it seems he had not waited for those 
 orders, having set out early that morning for his coun- 
 try seat. 
 
 Miss Stewart, in order to obviate all injurious con- 
 structions that might be put upon the adventure of the 
 preceding night, went and threw herself at the queen's 
 
360 MEMOIRS OS' COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 feet ; where, acting the new part of an innocent Magda- 
 len, she entreated Her Majesty's forgiveness for all the 
 sorrow and uneasiness she might have already occasioned 
 her. She told Her Majesty that a constant and sincere 
 repentance had induced her to contrive all possible 
 means for retiring from court : that this reason had in- 
 clined her to receive the Duke of Richmond's addresses, 
 who had courted her a long time ; but since this court- 
 ship had caused his disgrace, and had likewise raised a 
 vast noise and disturbance, which perhaps might be 
 turned to the prejudice of her reputation, she conjured 
 Her Majesty to take her under her protection, and en- 
 deavor to obtain the king's permission for her to retire 
 into a convent, to remove at once all those vexations 
 and troubles her presence had innocently occasioned at 
 court. All this was accompanied with a proper deluge 
 of tears. 
 
 It is a very agreeable spectacle to see a rival prostrate 
 at our feet, entreating pardon, and at the same time 
 justifying her conduct. The queen's heart not only re- 
 lented, but she mingled her own tears with those of Miss 
 Stewart. After having raised her up, and most tenderly 
 embraced her, she promised her all manner of favor and 
 protection, either in her marriage or in any other course 
 she thought fit to pursue, and parted from her with the 
 firm resolution to exert all her interest in her support : 
 but, being a person of great judgment, the reflections 
 which she afterwards made induced her to change her 
 opinion. 
 
 She knew that the king's disposition was not capable 
 of an obstinate constancy. She therefore judged that 
 absence would cure him, or that a new engagement 
 would by degrees entirely efface the remembrance of 
 Miss Stewart; and that, since she could not avoid having 
 a rival, it was more desirable she should be one who had 
 given such eminent proofs of her prudence and virtue. 
 
MEMOIRS Olf COUNT GRAMMONT. 361 
 
 Besides, she flattered herself that the king would ever 
 think himself eternally obliged to her, for having op- 
 posed the retreat and marriage of a girl whom at that 
 time he loved to distraction. This iine reasoning deter- 
 mined her conduct. All her industry was employed in 
 persuading Miss Stewart to abandon her schemes ; and 
 what is most extraordinary in this adventure, is, that, 
 after having prevailed upon her to think no more 
 either of the Duke of Richmond, or of a nunnery, she 
 charged herself with the office of reconciling these two 
 lovers. 
 
 Indeed it would have been a thousand pities if her 
 negotiation had miscarried ; but she did not suffer this 
 misfortune ; for never were the king's addresses so eager 
 and passionate as after this peace, nor ever better received 
 by the fair Stewart. 
 
 His Majesty did not long enjoy the sweets of a recon- 
 ciliation, which brought him into the best good humor 
 possible, as we shall see. All Europe was in a pro- 
 found peace since the treaty of the Pyrenees : Spain 
 flattered herself she should be able to recruit, by means 
 of the new alliance she had contracted with the most 
 formidable of her neighbors ; but despaired of being 
 able to support the shattered remains of a declining 
 monarchy, when she considered the age and infirmi- 
 ties of her prince, or the weakness of his successor : 
 France, on the contrary, governed by a king inde- 
 fatigable in business, young, vigilant, and ambitious 
 of glory, wanted nothing but inclination to aggrandize 
 herself. 
 
 It was about this time that the king of France, not 
 willing to disturb the tranquillity of Europe, was per- 
 suaded to alarm the coasts of Africa by an attempt, 
 which, if it had even been crowned with success, would 
 have produced little good ; but the king's fortune, ever 
 faithful to his glory, has since made it appear, by the 
 
362 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 miscarriage of the expedition of Gigeri,* that such pro- 
 jects only as were planned by himself were worthy of 
 his attention. 
 
 A short time after, the king of England, having re- 
 solved also to explore the African coasts, fitted out a 
 squadron for an expedition to Guinea, which was to be 
 commanded by Prince Rupert. Those who, from their 
 own experience, had some knowledge of the country, 
 related strange and wonderful stories of the dangers 
 attendant upon this expedition : that they would 
 have to fight not only the inhabitants of Guinea, a 
 hellish people, whose arrows were poisoned, and who 
 never gave their prisoners better quarter than to de- 
 vour them, but that they must likewise endure heats 
 that were insupportable, and rains that were intolera- 
 ble, every drop of which was changed into a serpent : 
 that, if they penetrated farther into the country, they 
 would be assaulted by monsters a thousand times more 
 hideous and destructive than all the beasts mentioned 
 in the Revelations. 
 
 But all these reports were vain and ineffectual : for so 
 far from striking terror into those who were appointed 
 to go upon this expedition, it rather acted as an incentive 
 to glory, upon those who had no manner of business in 
 it. Jermyn appeared among the foremost of these ; and, 
 without reflecting that the pretence of his indisposition 
 had delayed the conclusion of his marriage with Miss 
 
 * Gigeri is about forty leagues from Algiers. Till the year 1664 the 
 French had a factory there ; but then attempting to build a fort on the 
 sea-coast, to be a check upon the Arabs, they came down from the 
 mountains, beat the French out of Gigeri, and demolished their fort. 
 Sir Richard Fanshaw, in a letter to the deputy governor of Tangier, 
 dated 2d December, 1664, N. S., says: "We have certain intelligence 
 that the French have lost Gigheria, with all they had there, and their 
 fleet come back, with the loss of one considerable ship upon the rocks 
 near Marseilles." — Fanshaw's Letters, vol. i., p. 347. 
 
MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 363 
 
 Jennings, he asked the duke's permission, and the king's 
 consent to serve in it as a volunteer. 
 
 Some time before this, the infatuation which had im- 
 posed upon the fair Jennings in his favor had begun to 
 subside. All that now inclined her to this match were 
 the advantages of a settlement. The careless indolence 
 of a lover, who faintly paid his addresses to her, as it were 
 from custom or habit, disgusted her ; and the resolution 
 he had taken, without consulting her, appeared so ridicu- 
 lous in him, and so injurious to herself, that, from that 
 moment, she resolved to think no more of him. Her 
 eyes being opened by degrees, she saw the fallacy of the 
 splendor, which had at first deceived her ; and the re- 
 nowned Jermyn was received according to his real merit 
 when he came to acquaint her with his heroical project. 
 There appeared so much indifference and ease in the 
 raillery with which she complimented him upon his 
 voyage, that he was entirely disconcerted, and so much 
 the more so, as he had prepared all the arguments he 
 thought capable of consoling her, upon announcing to 
 her the fatal news of his departure. She told him, 
 " that nothing could be more glorious for him, who had 
 triumphed over the liberty of so many persons in Europe, 
 than to go and extend his conquests in other parts of the 
 world ; and that she advised him to bring home with 
 him all the female captives he might make in Africa, in 
 order to replace those beauties whom his absence would 
 bring to the grave. ' ' 
 
 Jermyn was highly displeased that she should be 
 capable of raillery in the condition he supposed her re- 
 duced to ; but he soon perceived she was in earnest : she 
 told him, that she considered this farewell visit as his 
 last, and desired him not to think of making her any 
 more before his departure. 
 
 Thus far everything went well on her side : Jermyn 
 was not only confounded at having received his discharge 
 
364 MEMOIRS OF COTJN^ GrAMMON*. 
 
 in so cavalier a manner ; but this very demonstration of 
 her indiiFerence had revived, and even redoubled, all the 
 love and affection he had formerly felt for her. Thus 
 she had both the pleasure of despising him, and of see- 
 ing him more entangled in the chains of love than he 
 had ever been before. This was not sufficient : she 
 wished still farther, and very unadvisedly, to strain her • 
 resentment. 
 
 Ovid's Epistles,* translated into English verse by the 
 greatest wits at court, having lately been published, she 
 wrote a letter from a shepherdess in despair, addressed to 
 the perfidious Jermyn. S^^e took the epistle of Ariadne 
 to Theseus for her model. The beginning of this letter 
 contained, word for word, the complaints and reproaches 
 of that injured fair to the cruel man by whom she had 
 been abandoned. All this was properly adapted to the 
 present times and circumstancesi. It was her design to 
 have closed this piece with a description of the toils, 
 perils, and monsters, that awaited him in Guinea, for 
 which he quitted a tender mistress, who was plunged 
 into the abyss of misery, and was overwhelmed with 
 grief and despair ; but not having had time to finish it, 
 nor to get that which she had written transcribed, in 
 order to send it to him unde/ a feigned name, she in- 
 considerately put this fragment, written in her own 
 hand, into her pocket, and, still more giddily, dropped 
 it in the middle of the court. Those who took it up, 
 knowing her writing, made several copies of it, which 
 were circulated all over the town ; but her former con- 
 duct had so well established the reputation of her virtue, 
 that no person entertained the smallest doubt but the 
 circumstances were exactly as we have related them. 
 Some time after, the Guinea expedition was laid aside 
 
 *This is the translation of Ovid's Epistles published by Mr. Dryden. 
 Ttie second edition of it was Drintedin 1681. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 365 
 
 for reasons that are universally known, and Miss Jen- 
 nings' subsequent proceedings fully justified her letter ; 
 for, notwithstanding all the efforts and attentions Jermyn 
 practised to regain her affections, she would never more 
 hear of him. 
 
 But he was not the only man who experienced the 
 whimsical fatality, that seemed to delight in disuniting 
 hearts, in order to engage them soon after to different 
 objects. One would have imagined that the God of 
 Love, actuated by some new caprice, had placed his 
 empire under the dominion of Hymen, and had, at the 
 same time, blind-folded that god, in order to cross- 
 match most of the lovers whom we have been speak- 
 ing of. 
 
 The fair Stewart married the Duke of Richmond ; the 
 invincible Jermyn, a silly country girl ;* Lord Roches- 
 ter, a melancholy heiress ;t the sprightly Temple, the 
 serious Lyttleton ; Talbot, without knowing why or 
 wherefore, took to wife the languishing Boynton ;| 
 George Hamilton, under more favorable auspices, mar- 
 ried the lovely Jennings ; and the Chevalier de Gram- 
 mont, as the reward of a constancy he had never before 
 known, and which he never afterwards practised, found 
 Hymen and lyove united in his favor, and was at last 
 blessed with the possession of Miss Hamilton. § 
 
 * Miss Gibbs, daughter of a gentleman in the county of Cambridge. 
 
 t Elizabeth, daughter of John Mallet, of Enmere, in the county of 
 Somerset. 
 
 t After the deaths of Miss Boynton and of George Hamilton, Talbot 
 married Miss Jennings, and became afterwards Duke of Tyrconnel. 
 
 ? "The famous Count Grammont was thought to be the original of 
 The Forced Marriage. This nobleman, during his stay at the court of 
 England, had made love to Miss Hamilton, but was coming away for 
 France without bringing matters to a proper conclusion. The young 
 lady's brothers pursued him, and came up with him near Dover, in order 
 to exchange some pistol-shot with him : They called out, 'Count Gram- 
 mont, have you forgot nothing at I^ondon ? ' ' Excuse me, ' answered tb e 
 
366 MEMOIRS OP COTJNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 Count, guessing their errand, ' I forgot to marry your sister ; so lead 
 on, and let us finish that affair.' By the pleasantry of the answer, this 
 was the same Grammont who commanded at the siege of a place, the 
 governor of which capitulated after a short defence, and obtained an 
 easy capitulation. The governor then said to Monsieur Grammont 
 ' I'll tell you a secret — that the reason of my capitulation was, because 
 I was in want of powder.' Monsieur replied, ' And secret for secret — 
 the reason of my granting you such an easy capitulation was, because I 
 was in want of ball.' " — Biog. Gallica, vol. i., p. 202. 
 
 Count Grammont and his lady left England in 1669. King Charles 
 in a letter to his sister, the Duchess of Orleans, dated 24th October, in 
 that year, says, "I writt to you yesterday, by the Compte de Gram- 
 mont, but I believe this letter will come sooner to your handes ; for he 
 goes by the way of Diep, with his wife and family : and now that I 
 have named her, I cannot chuse but againe desire you to be kinde to 
 her ; for, besides the merrit her family has on both sides, she is as 
 good a creature as ever lived. I beleeve she will pass for a handsome 
 woman in France, though she has not yett, since her lying-inn, re- 
 covered that good shape she had before, and I am affiraide never will." 
 — Dalrymple's Memoirs, vol. ii., p. 26. 
 
 "The Count de Grammont fell dangerously ill in the year 1696 ; of 
 which the king (Louis XIV.) being informed, and knowing, besides, 
 that he was inclined to libertinism, he was pleased to send the Marquis 
 of Dangeau to see how he did, and to advise him to think of God. 
 Hereupon Count de Grammont, turning towards his wife, who had ever 
 been a very devout lady, told her, Countess, if you don't look to it, Dan- 
 geau will juggle you out of my conversion. Madame de I'Enclos having 
 afterwards written to M. de St. Evremond that Cojint de Grammont was 
 recovered, and turned devout, — I have learned, answered he to her, with 
 a great deal of pleasure, that Count de Grammont has recovered his 
 former health, and acquired a new devotion. Hitherto I have been con- 
 tented with being a plain honest man ; but I must do something more ; 
 and I only wait for your example to become a devotee. You live in a 
 country where people have wonderful advantages of saving their souls : 
 there vice is almost as opposite to the mode as to virtue ; sinning passes 
 for Hi-breeding, and shocks decency and good manners, as much as re- 
 ligion. Formerly it was enough to be wicked ; now one must be a scoun- 
 drel withal, to be damned in France. They who have not regard enough 
 for another life, are led to salvation by the consideration and duties of 
 this." — " But there is enough upon a subject in which the conversion of 
 the Count de Grammont hap, engaged me : I believe it to be sincere and 
 honest. It well becomes a man who is not young, to forget he has been 
 BO."— Life of St. Evremond, by Des Marzeaux, p. 136; and St. Evre- 
 mond' s Works, vol. ii., 431. 
 
 it appears that a report had been spread that our hero was dead. 
 
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 367 
 
 St. Evremond, in a letter to De I'Enclos, says, "they talk here as if the 
 Count de Grammont was dead, which touches me with a very sensible 
 grief." — Si. Evremand's Works, vol. iii., p. 39. And the same lady, in 
 her answer, says, " Madame de Coulanges has undertaken to make your 
 compliments to the Count de Grammont, by the Countess de Gram- 
 mont. He is so young, that I think him as light as when he hated sick 
 people, and loved them after they had recovered their health." — Ibid., 
 
 P-59- 
 
 At length Count de Grammont, after a long life, died, the loth 
 January, 1707, at the age of 86 years. 
 
 See a letter from St. Evremond to Count de Grammont on the death 
 of his brother. Count de Toulongeon. — St. Evremond's Works, vol. ii., 
 p. ia: 
 
 LUCY BARLOW, 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 TO THE MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMQNl;; 
 
 Any reader who has for the first time pursued these 
 Memoirs to the end will be disappointed at their abrupt 
 conclusion. This defect we have sought to remedy by 
 adding three biographies from Mrs. Jameson's Beauties 
 of the Court of Charles II. : Mrs. Lawson, one of the 
 mistresses of Charles II. ; Lady Bellasys, one of the 
 mistresses of the Duke of York, and the DuCHESS OF 
 Portsmouth, the last mistress of Charles. The bio- 
 graphy of this last beauty brings the life of Charles to a 
 close and graphically describes the disgraceful condition 
 into which he had betrayed England into dependence 
 on France, so that he might obtain money to squander m 
 extravagance, and maintain his extensive harem and 
 " interminable brood " of royal bastards. 
 
 (36b) 
 
MRS. LAWSON. 
 
 "Condamn^e k la celebrity sans pouvoir gtre connue." 
 
 —I?e Stael. 
 
 By this title the portrait in the Beauty-room at Wind- 
 sor has always been traditionally known ; but, according 
 to the present style, Mrs. I,awson should properly be 
 Miss Lawson, as the lady here represented was certainly 
 unmarried. * 
 
 The Mrs. Lawson of the Windsor Gallery must have 
 been one of the five daughters of Sir John Lawson, a 
 Roman Catholic Baronet, of Brough, in Yorkshire. He 
 married Catherine Howard, a daughter of the Earl of 
 Carlisle, whose younger brother, Thomas Howard, be- 
 came the second husband of Mary Villiers, Duchess of 
 Richmond, and sister of the Duke of Buckingham. 
 Thus, a woman of high rank and intriguing spirit, con- 
 nected, by her first marriage, with the blood royal, and 
 
 * In the reign of Charles II., and long afterwards, Mrs. or Mistress 
 was the usual appellation of a young unmarried woman. Married 
 women were entitled Madam. The word Miss was seldom used but in 
 a very disreputable sense. 
 24 
 
370 APPENDIX. 
 
 the sister of the reigning favorite, became the aunt of 
 the five Miss Lawsons. 
 
 There is reason to believe, from various scattered 
 notices, that this Duchess of Richmond introduced one 
 of her nieces at court, with a view of captivating the 
 easy affections of Charles, and counteracting, through 
 her influence, the ascendancy of the Duchess of Ports- 
 mouth. One part of this plan appears to have succeeded, 
 for Miss Lawson became the object of the king's admira- 
 tion, whose attentions to her were so public that they 
 are frequently alluded to, and the Portsmouth faction 
 was thrown into some consternation. 
 
 But it also appears that on this occasion Charles met 
 with very unusual resistance, and that Miss Lawson was 
 not easily won — if, indeed, she was won at all, of which 
 there is no existing proof. There is a coarse political 
 satire of that time (about 1674) quoted by Sir William 
 Musgrave, in which all the celebrated beauties of the 
 court are represented as contending for the post of 
 ' ' Maitresse en titre. " Miss Lawson is mentioned among 
 the rest, but she is rejected, by reason of her "too great 
 modesty." There are other contemporary songs, epi- 
 grams, satires, worthless in themselves, where Miss 
 Lawson's name occurs. She is never alluded to but as 
 one hitherto innocent, and exposed to danger from the 
 intrigues of her aunt, and the profligate pursuit of the 
 king. The following passage will serve as a specimen : 
 
 " Yet I/awson, thou whose arbitrary sway, 
 Our King must, more than we do him, obey, 
 Who shortly shall of easy Charles's breast 
 And of his empire be at once possest ; 
 Though it indeed appear a glorious thing 
 To command power and to enslave a King, 
 Yet ere the false appearance has betray'd 
 A soft, believing, unexperienced maid. 
 Ah ! yet consider ere it be too late. 
 How near you stand upon the brink of fate." * 
 
 * Musgrave' s Biographical Adversaria, M. S. No. 5723, British Mu- 
 seum. 
 
APPENDIX. 371 
 
 Sir William Musgrave adds, " that the five sisters be- 
 came nuns at York," and this is all that can be dis- 
 covered concerning the original of this portrait If we 
 may believe in the existence of innocence, which even 
 slander appears to have respected, and satire itself to 
 have compassionated ; and if we can suppose it possible 
 that such innocence could be maintained in a corrupt 
 court, surrounded not only by temptations, but by the 
 most villainous snares, we ought to deem Miss I,awson 
 acquitted, notwithstanding the evil society in which she 
 appears. 
 
SUSAN ARMINE; 
 
 LADY BELLASYS. 
 
 "Bonne et beli-e assez." 
 
 Motto of the Belasyse family. 
 
 The picture, which is the most striking and splendid 
 of the whole series known as the Windsor Beauties, is, 
 unhappily, one of the disputed portraits. At Windsor it 
 is traditionally known as Elinor I^ady Byron ; * but, on 
 the authority of Horace Walpole, Granger, and Sir 
 
 * Elinor Needham, daughter of Lord Kilmurrey, married at eleven 
 years old to Peter Warburton, Esq., who died before she was fifteen, 
 and after his death the wife of the first I<ord Byron, is described in Sir 
 Peter Leycester's Antiquities of Chester, as "a person of such comely 
 carriage and presence, handsomeness, sweet disposition, honor, and 
 general respect in the world, that she hath scarce left her equal be- 
 hind." But Sir Peter was personally the friend of the lady, and con- 
 nected with her family, and his testimony is rather incorrect and par- 
 tial. The fact is, that this Lady Byron became, after the death of her 
 husband, the mistress of Charles II. during his exile ; and, avarice 
 being her ruling passion, she contrived to extort from him, even in 
 the midst of his distresses, upwards of 15,000/. in money and jewels, 
 etc. She was dismissed for the sake of Lady Castlemaine, before the 
 king's return, and died at Chester, within two years after the Restora- 
 tion. It is not very probable that the portrait of this lady should find 
 its way into the gallery of Court Beauties of the time of Charles II. It 
 (372) 
 
APPENDIX. 373 
 
 William Musgrave, all three well versed in tlie biog- 
 raphy of our peerage, as well as in pictorial and domestic 
 antiquities, it is generally supposed to represent Susan 
 Armine, "the widow of Sir Henry Bellasys, and mis- 
 tress of the Duke of York. ' ' * 
 
 Methinks if this magnificent-looking creature could 
 speak, she would certainly exclaim against this last dis- 
 reputable and unmerited title, or insist that it should be 
 understood with a reservation in her favor : — ^but since 
 those lips, though stained with no "Stygian hue," are 
 silenced by death, and can only look their scorn, we must 
 plead, in defence of Lady Bellasys, that if the circum- 
 stances of her life gave some color to the slander which 
 has been unadvisedly stamped on her fair, open brow, 
 she estisiated, as a woman ought to estimate, her own 
 and her sex's honor. 
 
 Susan Armine was the daughter of Sir William 
 Armine, of Osgodby, in Lincolnshire. Her mother, 
 Mary Talbot, was a niece of the Earl of Shrewsbury, 
 and a lady distinguished in her time for her various 
 learning, as well as for her gentle and feminine virtues 
 and extensive charities, t It appears that Susan Armine 
 
 taay be added, that the picture has been attributed by some to Vandyke, 
 by others to Lely, by others to Huysman. If Lady Byron sat to Van- 
 dyke, it must have been in her childhood : if to Lely or to Huysman, 
 it must have been abroad, or after the Restoration, both circumstances 
 equally improbable. Among the family pictures at Tabley (the seat 
 of the Leycesters) there is a very fine full-length portrait, nearly re- 
 sembling this at Windsor : it is there entitled Lady Byron, and attrib- 
 uted to Lely. On the whole it is quite impossible to reconcile the 
 very contradictory evidence relative to the person and the picture, but 
 by attributing the portrait at once to Lady Bellasys, on the most prob- 
 able grounds and the most credible testimony. 
 
 * Horace Walpole ; Anecdotes of Painting, Granger's Biographical 
 History of England, and Musgrave' s MS. notes to Granger, British 
 Museum. 
 
 t Lady Armine died in 1674. It is said that she founded three hos- 
 pitals for the sick and the poor, one of which (at Burton Grange, in 
 Yorkshire) still exists. 
 
374 APPENDIX. 
 
 was their only child and heiress, and that she was mar- 
 ried very young, according to the fashion of those times, 
 to Henry Bellasys, the son and heir of Lord Bellasys, 
 and nephew of L,ord Fauconberg. * Ivord Bellasys, who 
 had greatly signalized himself in the royal cause, be- 
 came, after the Restoration, the friend and favorite of 
 the Duke of York ; and his son Henry was created a 
 knight of the Bath, in recompense for his own gallantry 
 and his father's loyalty. 
 
 From the few particulars which have been preserved 
 relating to Sir Henry Bellasys, we may pronounce him 
 to have been eminently brave and generous, but of a 
 rash and fiery disposition. His headlong impetuosity 
 first involved him in a luckless mistake, which led to 
 the murder of an innocent man,t and afterwards occa- 
 sioned his own death, in the prime of life, and within a 
 few years after his marriage. The circumstances, which 
 form, perhaps, the severest satire against duelling that 
 ever was penned, and might well excite a smile but for 
 the tragical result, are thus related. — Sir Henry, after a 
 late revel, was conversing apart with his dear and sworn 
 friend Tom Porter, then Groom of the Chamber to the 
 king. As they spoke with animation, and rather loud, 
 some one standing by asked if they were quarrelling ? 
 "Quarrelling!" exclaimed Sir Henry, turning round, 
 " No ! — I would have you to know that I never quarrel 
 but I strike ! " " How ! ' ' said Porter, ' ' strike ! I would 
 I could see the man that dare give me a blow !" Sir 
 Henry, flushed with recent intemperance, and only sen- 
 sible to the defiance implied in these words, instantly 
 struck him. They drew, of course, but were immedi- 
 ately separated by their friends. Porter left the house, 
 and, meeting Dryden, told him, in a wild manner, what 
 
 * In the reign of Charles II. the name was spelt indiflFerently Bel- 
 lasses and Bellasys, but more recently Belasyse. The title pf Faucon- 
 berg became extinct within the last few years. 
 
 tSee Pepys, vol. i., p. 133. 
 
APPENDIX. 375 
 
 had just passed, and that he must fight Sir Henry Bel- 
 lasys presently, for, if he waited till the morrow, he 
 " knew they would be friends again, and the disgrace of 
 the blow would rest upon him. ' ' He borrowed Dryden's 
 servant, whom he ordered to watch for Sir Henry, and 
 give him notice which way he went. He then followed 
 his carriage, stopped it in Covent Garden, and called on 
 his friend to alight. They drew their swords, and 
 fought on the spot, some of their acquaintance and 
 others looking on, till Sir Henry Bellasys, finding him- 
 self severely wounded, staggered, and had nearly fallen, 
 but, sustaining himself by an effort, he called to Tom 
 Porter, and desired him to fly. "Tom," said he affec- 
 tionately, " thou hast hurt me ; but I will make a shift 
 to stand on my legs till thou mayst withdraw, for I 
 would not have thee troubled for what thou hast done !" 
 He then kissed and embraced him : but Porter, unable 
 to speak, could only show him that he too was wounded 
 and bleeding. In this state they were carried home. 
 Sir Henry Bellasys died of his wounds within four days 
 after the encounter ; and thus, in consequence of a foolish 
 and drunken outrage, perished a young man of high 
 hopes, noble birth, generous feeling, and approved gal- 
 lantry, by the hand of the man he most loved, and for 
 whom he would willingly have shed his blood. This 
 extraordinary duel, which even then excited more ridi- 
 cule than sympathy,* occurred in 1667. 
 
 Of Lady Bellasys, married so young, and so early left 
 a widow, we do not hear at this time. She was the 
 mother of one son, an infant ; and it appears that she 
 lived in retirement for some years after the death of her 
 husband. It was about the year 1670 that she was first 
 distinguished at court, not so much for her beauty, as 
 for her wit, her vivacity, her high spirit and uncommon 
 
 * " It is pretty to hear how all the world doth talk of them, and call 
 them a couple of fools, who killed each other for pmre love." — Pepys. 
 
376 APPENDIX. 
 
 powers of mind. These qualities fascinated the Duke 
 of York. It was said of him, that he was as indijBferent 
 to beauty as Charles was to virtue and intellect in 
 women. Some of the ladies whom the duke most 
 admired were so homely, that the king used to aver, 
 that the priests had inflicted his brother's mistresses on 
 him by way of penance. It is, however, certain that 
 those women whom the duke selected as the peculiar 
 objects of his homage, do rather more honor to his taste 
 than the favorites of Charles do to his : I,ady Denham, 
 Arabella Churchill, Miss Sedley, I,ady Bellasys, to say 
 nothing of Miss Hamilton and Miss Jennings, whom he 
 also passionately admired, and vainly pursued, are proofs 
 that something like education and refinement were 
 necessary to attract his attention, and something like 
 wit and understanding to keep him awake. lyady Bel- 
 lasys, who had virtue and spirit, as well as wit and 
 bright eyes, gained a strong influence over his mind 
 without compromising her own honor ; and after the 
 death of the flrst Duchess of York, in 1672, he actually 
 placed in her hands a written contract of marriage, only 
 requiring secrecy, at least for a time. This affair coming 
 to the knowledge of the king, some months afterwards, 
 he sent for his brother, and rebuked him very severely, 
 telling him that, ' 'At his age it was intolerable that he 
 should think to play the fool over again ; ' ' alluding to 
 his former marriage with Anne Hyde. But neither the 
 threats of the king, nor the arguments and persuasions 
 of Ivord Bellasys, her father-in-law, who thought himself 
 obliged, in honor and duty, to interfere, could, for a long 
 time, induce Lady Bellasys to give up this contract of 
 marriage, and brand herself with dishonor. She yielded, 
 at length, when the safety and welfare of the duke and 
 the peace of the nation were urged as depending on her 
 compliance ; but even then, only on condition that she 
 should be allowed to keep an attested copy in her own 
 possession ; to which they were obliged, though most 
 
APPENDIX. 377 
 
 reluctantly, to consent. In return for this concession, 
 Lady Bellasys was created, in 1674, a peeress for life, by 
 the title of Baroness Bellasys of Osgodby, having suc- 
 ceeded, on the death of her father and mother, to the 
 family estates. 
 
 It is said that the Duke of York, who seems to have 
 loved Lady Bellasys as well as he could love any thing, 
 made many attempts to convert her to his own religion, 
 but in vain. It was even supposed that there was some 
 danger of the lady converting her royal lover; a suspicion 
 which raised a strong party against her among the 
 duke's Roman Catholic dependants, and led to much of 
 the slander from which her name and fame have suf- 
 fered. 
 
 About ten years after these events, Lady Bellasys 
 married a gentleman of fortune, whose name was Fortrey, 
 of whom we know nothing, but that she survived him. 
 Her son, Henry Bellasys, succeeded, in 1684, to the title 
 and estates of his grandfather, as Lord Bellasys of Worl- 
 aby, and died about the year 1690; he married Anne 
 Brudenell, a beautiful woman and sister of the celebrated 
 Countess of Newburgh, Lord Lansdown's Mira. She 
 afterwards married Charles Lennox, Duke of Richmond, 
 son of the Duchess of Portsmouth, and from her the 
 present duke is descended. 
 
 It is to be inferred from a letter of Swift to Mrs. Ding- 
 ley (or rather to Stella) that Lady Bellasys appeared 
 again at court in the reign of Queen Anne, and from this 
 daughter of her former lover she received every mark of 
 distinction and respect. She died on the 6th of Jan- 
 uary, 1713, bequeathing her rich inheritance among her 
 nearest kinsmen : Lord Berkeley, of Stratton, was ap- 
 pointed the executor of her will, with a legacy of ten 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 Horace Walpole, in allusion to this portrait, thinks it 
 probable that Charles, by admitting Lady Bellasys into 
 the gallery at Windsor, meant to insinuate the superi- 
 
378 APPENDIX. 
 
 ority of his own taste over that of his brother ; if so, he 
 has not assuredly taken the best means of proving it, 
 since every other face, however regular and beautiful, 
 appears insipid when placed in contrast with this noble 
 creature — Miss Hamilton's, perhaps, alone excepted. 
 
 Lady Bellasys is here represented as Saint Catherine. 
 Her left hand rests on the wheel and supports the palm 
 branch ; her right hand is pressed to her bosom. The 
 drapery, which is dark blue and crimson, falls round her 
 in grand and ample folds, and is colored with exceeding 
 richness. In the background two cherubs are descend- 
 ing to crown her with myrtle, and she turns her large, 
 dark eyes towards them with an expression of rapturous 
 devotion. Her jet black hair falling from beneath a 
 coronet of gems, flows in ringlets upon her neck ; and 
 this peculiarity, as well as the uncovered amplitude of 
 the bosom and shoulders, seems to refer the portrait to 
 the time of Charles II. On a critical examination of 
 the features, we are obliged to allow the absence of 
 beauty ; the contour of the face is not perfect, and the 
 nose and mouth are rather irregular in form, but then, 
 as a certain French cardinal said of his mistress, " c'est 
 au moins, la plus belle irregularity du monde ; " and the 
 eyes and brow are splendid. They have all the life and 
 vivacity which Burnet attributes to this intractable lady, 
 as he styles her. * There is so much of poetry and feeling 
 in the composition of this picture; so much of intellectual 
 grandeur in the turn of the head ; such a freedom and 
 spirit in the mechanical execution, and such a rich tone 
 of color pervading the whole, that the portrait might 
 be assigned at once to Vandyke, if other circumstances 
 did not render it improbable. It bears no traces of the 
 style of Sir Peter Lely, and I am inclined to agree with 
 Horace Walpole, who attributes it decidedly to Huys- 
 man. Huysman was the pupil of Vandyke, and he may 
 
 * See Burnet, History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 393. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 379 
 
 have painted this picture in the early period of his resi- 
 dence in England, and before he quitted the powerful 
 and spirited style of his former master to imitate the 
 effeminate graces of Lely. There is at Gorhambury, in 
 the possession of L,ord Verulam, a portrait of Queen 
 Catherine, indisputably by Huysman; so nearly resem- 
 bling this picture in the composition and style of execu- 
 tion that it adds strength to this persuasion ; but I am 
 far from presuming to decide where abler judges cannot 
 agree. 
 
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 V" 
 
 KARL OF ROCHKSrER. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF PORTSMOUTH. 
 
 BY MRS. JAMESON. 
 
 " Her birth, her beauty, crowds and courts confess, 
 Chaste matrons praise her, and grave bishops bless ; 
 In golden chains the willing world she draws, 
 And hers the gospel is — and hers the laws ; 
 Mounts the tribunal, lifts her scarlet head. 
 And sees pale Virtue carted in her stead ! 
 Lo ! at the wheels of her triumphant car 
 Old England's genius, rough with many a scar, 
 Dragg'd in the dust ! " — Pope. 
 
 This is a name disgracefully celebrated, but only a 
 small portion of that disgrace can justly rest upon her 
 who bore it. The period of her reign, for so it may be 
 called, is historically infamous, but the least part of that 
 infamy rests upon the woman herself. If we could tear 
 from the chronicles of our country that leaf which bears 
 the name of Louise de Queroualle, it were well; but since 
 this cannot be, we ought not to close our eyes to its im- 
 port, for it conveys a deep lesson. It is impossible to 
 study history without admitting that the political influ- 
 ence of women has been great in all ages ; it has been 
 modified by the difference of manner and the degree of 
 (380) 
 
APPENDIX. 381 
 
 intelligence — it has been more or less ostensible, more or 
 less mischievous — ^but at all times it has been great, 
 and it increases with the progress of civilization and the 
 diffusion of knowledge. It is not in these days that we 
 are to listen to common-places out of the ' ' Spectator ' ' 
 and the " Ecole des Femmes." I^et it be granted, that 
 "women are formed for private life alone ; " but in that 
 privacy, in our nurseries and boudoirs, are inculcated 
 and directed the principles and opinions of those men 
 who are to legislate for the happiness and welfare of na- 
 tions. This species of indirect influence increases with 
 the spread of civilization and intelligence : it cannot be 
 denied — it cannot be suppressed : — is not the next alter- 
 native to render it beneficial to society ? If a woman 
 could once be taught to feel, to appreciate the grand 
 stake she has in the political institutions of her country, 
 and to understand the interests of humanity at large, she 
 would no longer mix up with these considerations the 
 petty passions, errors and prejudices, and personal feel- 
 ings which have rendered at all times the political inter- 
 ference and influence of the sex a fertile source of evil, 
 and a never-failing topic of reproach and regret ; for evil 
 has been almost constantly the result. The gallantry 
 of men and the vanity of women may here suggest in- 
 stances of the contrary; but for one Volumnia how many 
 Cleopatras ? for one Agnes Sorel how many Pompadours 
 and Portsmouths ? One thing, however, is certain, that, 
 thanks to the progressive diffusion of freedom and knowl- 
 edge, we are not likely to behold again in civilized 
 Europe the common decencies of life braved by the in- 
 solent triumph of a " maltresse en titre : " nor "sin in 
 state, majestically drunk," trampling over the destinies 
 of great nations and the interests of millions of men. A 
 Maintenon will never more half depopulate France, nor 
 a Portsmouth bargain with a foreign despot for the sale 
 of English liberty. 
 
 lyouise Ren^e de Penencovet de Qu^roualle, of a noble 
 
382 APPENDIX. 
 
 but impoverished family in Brittany, was appointed 
 maid of honor to the Duchess of Orleans, sister of Charles 
 II. and James II., in the year 1669 ; she was not more 
 than nineteen, when, by the interest of some relations in 
 power, she was taken from the convent to which the 
 poverty of her house had at first consigned her, appar- 
 ently for life, and at once introduced to all the pleasures 
 and temptations of a magnificent and dissipated court ; 
 her introduction took place at a critical moment, and in 
 deciding her future fate has made her destiny and char- 
 acter matter of history. 
 
 The conquest or the ruin of Holland had long been 
 one of the favorite projects of Louis XIV. The Dutch, 
 however, resisted his overgrown power, as their ances- 
 tors had formerly defied that of Philip II. of Spain. In 
 order to carry his plans into execution, Louis found it 
 necessary to detach England from the interests of Hol- 
 land. This was matter of some difficulty, for an alliance 
 with France against Holland was so odious to all parties 
 m England, so contrary to the national prejudices and 
 interests, that, though Louis did not despair of cajoling 
 or bribing Charles into such a treaty, the utmost caution 
 and secrecy were necessary in conducting it. 
 
 The only person who was at first trusted with this 
 negotiation was Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans, the sister 
 of Charles, and sister-in-law of Louis, fatally celebrated 
 in French history as Madame d' Angle terre. She was 
 at this time about five-and-twenty, a singular mixture 
 of discretion, or rather dissimulation, with rashness and 
 petulance ; of exceeding haughtiness, with a winning 
 sweetness of manner and disposition, which gained all 
 hearts. She had inherited some of the noble qualities 
 of her grandfather Henri Quatre, and all the graces and 
 intriguing spirit of her mother Henrietta Maria. Early 
 banished from England by the misfortunes of her family, 
 she regarded the country of her birth with indifference, 
 if not abhorrence. A French woman in education, 
 
APPENDIX. 383 
 
 manners, mind and heart, she was an English woman 
 only in the peculiar style of her beauty, uniting the 
 utmost majesty of form with a profusion of light hair, 
 eyes as blue and bright as those of Pallas, and a com- 
 plexion " petri de lis et de roses." On her husband, the 
 worthless, stupid, profligate Duke of Orleans, her wit 
 and charms were equally thrown away. lyouis was well 
 aware of her unbounded power over the mind of Charles 
 II. , whose affection for her was said to exceed that of a 
 brother for a sister : he had never been known to refuse 
 her anything she had asked for herself or others, and 
 L,ouis trusted that her fascinations would gain from the 
 King of England what reason and principle and patri- 
 otism would have denied. 
 
 To cover the interview between the brother and sister 
 with some kind of pretext which should give it the ap- 
 pearance of an accidental or friendly meeting, I^ouis 
 undertook a progress to his new Flemish provinces ; and 
 until Catherine of Russia astonished Europe by her 
 pompous triumphal voyage down the Bosphorus, noth- 
 ing had equalled in lavish and luxurious ostentation 
 this famous journey. An army of thirty thousand men 
 preceded and followed the royal party : in one spacious 
 and superb equipage, all glass and gilding, travelled 
 the king, the queen, Henrietta, and Madame de Montes- 
 pan ; then followed their respective retinues ; then the 
 princesses ; the dauphin and his court. Mademoiselle 
 de Montpensier (la grande Mademoiselle) and her court. 
 This was just before the fatal affair of her marriage with 
 L<auzun, who on this occasion rode at the head of the 
 royal guards. It was a perpetual series of f^tes, ban- 
 quets, and triumphs ; the apparent honors were princi- 
 pally for Madame de Montespan ; the real object of this 
 splendid journey was known only to Henrietta of Or- 
 leans, who enjoyed in secret her own importance, which 
 gave a new zest to the pleasures with which she was 
 surrounded. When arrived at Dunkirk, she embarked 
 
384 APPENDIX. 
 
 for England, with a small but chosen retinue, and met 
 her brother at Dover, where this celebrated conference 
 took place. The event showed that l/ouis had not 
 reckoned too much on her power ; she gained from the 
 facile and unprincipled Charles all that she asked, and 
 the shameful treaty wh^ph rendered the King of England 
 the pensioned tool of France, was arranged at Dover in 
 the beginning of June, 1670. * 
 
 Henrietta brought in her train Mademoiselle de 
 Qu^roualle, and during her short stay, the exceeding 
 beauty and almost childish graces of this young girl 
 captivated Charles, who was observed to pay her much 
 attention ; she, however, returned to Versailles with her 
 royal mistress, and there, within a few days afterwards, 
 witnessed her dreadful death. Voltaire doubts, or aflfects 
 to doubt, that Henrietta was poisoned, because of the 
 odium which such a suspicion must have thrown on the 
 father of his patron, the Regent-Duke of Orleans ; but 
 the recent publication of some private memoirs of that 
 time has cleared up the shocking mystery. The in- 
 trigues which led to the murder of this unhappy woman, 
 present such a scene of accumulated horrors and in- 
 iquity, that for the honor of human nature, one could 
 wish that the curtain had never been raised which hid 
 them from car knowledge. 
 
 On the occasion of her death, the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham was sent over to France as envoy extraordinary ; he 
 had been the first to observe the impression which 
 Mademoiselle de Qu^roualle had made on the king's 
 excitable fancy, and he resolved to turn it to his own 
 advantage. He had quarrelled with the Duchess of 
 Cleveland — had sworn hatred and vengeance against her; 
 and now to raise her up a rival who should be wholly 
 
 * France agreed to give two millions of livres (150,000/.) for the king's 
 conversion to Popery ; and three millions a year for the Dutch war. 
 Large sums of money were distributed to Buckingham, Arlington, 
 CUflFord. 
 
APPENDIX. 385 
 
 governed by himself, seemed to this Proteus of gallantry 
 and harlequin of politics, a very master-stroke of art, — 
 worthy of Machiavel himself He persuaded I^ouis 
 seriously, that the only way to bind Charles to the 
 French interest, was to give him a French mistress : and 
 he told Charles jestingly, that he ought to take charge 
 of his sister's favorite attendant, if only out of " decent 
 tenderness" for her memory. As to Mademoiselle de 
 Qu^roualle, a convent was all she could look to in 
 France, and she was not found impracticable. Matters, 
 in short, were soon arranged ; an invitation, so decor- 
 ously worded as to spare the lady's blushes, was sent 
 from the English Court, and she was immediately de- 
 spatched to Dieppe with part of the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham's suite, and his Grace's promise to join her with all 
 convenient speed. But what did that most careless and 
 inconsistent of human beings ? His admirable scheme 
 of policy, by which he was to build up his own fortunes 
 and power, and ruin all his enemies, was but ' ' one of 
 the thousand freaks that died in thinking ;" he totally 
 forgot both the lady and his promise, and leaving the dis- 
 consolate nymph at Dieppe to manage as she could, 
 passed over to England by way of Calais. Montagu, 
 then our ambassador at Paris, hearing of the duke's egre- 
 gious blunder, immediately sent over for a yacht, and 
 ordered some of his own people to convey her with all 
 honor to Whitehall, where she was received by Lord 
 Arlington with the utmost respect, and immediately 
 appointed maid of ^honor to the queen. ' ' Thus, ' ' says 
 Burnet, " the Duke of Buckingham lost all the merit he 
 might have pretended to, and brought over a mistress, 
 whom his own strange conduct threw into the hands of 
 his enemies. ' ' 
 
 Though the lady carried it at first very demurely, the 
 purpose of her visit was pretty well understood. * Dry- 
 
 * It had been foretold apparently, for Madame de Sevign^ thus writes 
 to her daughter: " Ne trouverez-vous pas bon ne savoir que K^roual 
 25 
 
386 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 den, the court-poet of the time, hailed her arrival in 
 some complimentary stanzas, entitled the "Fair Stran- 
 ger," not worth quoting here ;* and St. Evrdmond ad- 
 dressed to her an epistle, which for different reasons I 
 shall refrain from quoting ; it is sufficient that the ele- 
 gance of the diction was worthy of his pen ; the senti- 
 ments worthy of his epicurean philosophy ; and the 
 morality — ^worthy of the occasion, f 
 
 The next we hear of Mademoiselle de Qudroualle is 
 from Evelyn, who notes in his diary that he had seen 
 "that famous beauty, the new French maid of honor ;" 
 but adds, ' ' in my opinion she is of a childish, simple, 
 and baby face. " We may judge from all the pictures of 
 la Qudroualle, that when young, her beauty, though ex- 
 quisite, must have had the character, or rather the want 
 of character, thus described by Evelyn. | Within a year 
 afterwards he met her on a visit at Euston, the seat of 
 lyord Arlington, where she was obviously invited for the 
 gratification of Charles. The French ambassador, Col- 
 bert, and a number of ladies of high rank, nobles and 
 courtiers, were there at the time. Charles came over 
 every other day from Newmarket, and made no secret of 
 his attentions to the young beauty. 
 
 In the year 1672 she bore the king a son (who was 
 created in 1675 Duke of Richmond and Earl of March in 
 England, and Duke of L,ennox and Earl of Damley in 
 Scotland). In the following year Mademoiselle de Qud- 
 roualle was created by letters patent (August 19, 1673) 
 Baroness Petersfield, Countess of Farneham and Duchess 
 of Portsmouth. Yet further to exalt and blazon a shame 
 
 dont r^toile avait dt^ devin^e avant qu'elle partit, I'a siiivie trSs-fidSle- 
 ment ? Le Roi d' Angleterre I'a aim^e, elle s'est trouv6 avec une l^gSre 
 disposition i ne le pas hair; eniin, etc." Lettre 190. 
 
 *See Dryden's Works, Scott's edit., vol. xi., p. 163. 
 
 t CEuvres de St. Evremond, vol. iii., p. 280. 
 
 X Evelyn'' s Diary. This note is datecf November, 1670, about a month 
 alter her arrival in England. 
 
APPENDIX. 387 
 
 which sought neither disguise nor concealment, L,ouis 
 XIV. conferred on her the Duchy of Aubigny, in the 
 Province of Berri, in France, as a mark of his friendship 
 for his good brother the King of England, and of his re- 
 spect for the lady, whose progenitors, as the preamble sets 
 forth, "had always held a considerable rank in Brittany, 
 and had done good service to the throne, etc. ' ' Finding 
 that she was likely to prove a staunch supporter of his 
 interests in England, Louis added to the title and dig- 
 nity of Duchess and Peeress of France the revenues of 
 the territory of Aubigny, and a considerable pension. 
 
 The unbounded power which this woman acquired 
 over the easy disposition of her royal lover was not owing 
 to any superiority of wit or intellect, nor did she attempt 
 to govern him like the Duchess of Cleveland, by violence 
 and caprices; though imperious and wilful, she was more 
 artful and flexible ; she studied to please and observe the 
 king until she had fixed him, then if he refused or de- 
 layed her wishes, she had tears and sullens, and fits of 
 sickness at command. Her rapacity and prodigality 
 were quite equal to those of her predecessor. "This 
 day," says Evelyn, " I was casually shown the Duchess 
 of Portsmouth's splendid apartment at Whitehall, lux- 
 uriously furnished, and with ten times the richness and 
 glory of the queen's ; such massy pieces of plate, whole 
 tables, stands, etc., of incredible value!" And yet at 
 this time Charles was reduced to the basest expedients 
 for money : shuffling with his ministers, duping his 
 friends, exasperating his people, and absolutely begging 
 like a mendicant of Louis XIV. and using the interces- 
 sion of the duchess to obtain from him occasional sup- 
 plies.* 
 
 * The Whig party, at one of their meetings, proposed to impeach 
 some of his mistresses, upon account of the poverty in which their ex- 
 travagance had involved him. On which old Lord Mordaunt said : 
 " That they ought rather to erect statues to the ladies who made their 
 lover dependent on Parliament for his subsistence." 
 
388 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 The following note in Evelyn^ also relating to the ex- 
 travagance of the Duchess of Portsmouth, is very char- 
 acteristic. ' ' Following His Majesty this morning through 
 the gallery, I went with the few who attended him into 
 the Duchess of Portsmouth's dressing-room, within her 
 bed-chamber, where she was in her morning loose gar- 
 ment, her maids combing her, newly out of her bed, His 
 Majesty and the gallants standing about her ; but that 
 which engaged my curiosity was the rich and splendid 
 furniture of this woman's apartment, now twice or thrice 
 pulled down and rebuilt to satisfy her prodigality and 
 expensive pleasures, while Her Majesty's does not exceed 
 some gentlemen's wives in furniture and accommodation. 
 Here I saw the new fabric of French tapestry, for design, 
 tenderness of work and incomparable imitation of the 
 best paintings, beyond anything I had ever beheld. 
 Some pieces had Versailles, St. Germains, and other 
 palaces of the French king, with huntings, figures and 
 landscapes, exotic fowls, and all to the life, rarely done. 
 •Then for Japan cabinets, screens, pendule clocks, great 
 vases of wrought plate, tables, stands, chimney furni- 
 ture, sconces, branches, braseras, etc. , all of massive sil- 
 ver, and out of number ; besides some of His Majesty's 
 best paintings. Surfeiting of this, I dined at Sir Stephen 
 Fox's, and went contented home to my poor but quiet 
 villa. What contentment can there be in the riches and 
 splendor of this world purchased with vice and dis- 
 honor !" 
 
 There was in truth but little of contentment within 
 those splendid walls. It may be that there was not much 
 repentance for the sin — nor much sense of dishonor — but 
 fears and jealousies, and perplexities, and heart-aches ; 
 disgraceful and malicious intrigues, public and private 
 conspiracies, and all the demons that wait on pride, 
 avarice, perfidy, ambition, haunted the precincts of 
 this temple of luxury ; the new peeress in her gems 
 and ermine, was laughed at by Nell Gwyn, hated 
 
APPENDIX. 389 
 
 by the queen, despised in private, and lampooned in 
 public. 
 
 In 1675, the arrival of the Duchess of Mazarin in Eng- 
 land had nearly overturned the empire of the Duchess 
 of Portsmouth. That "ladye errant," after many and 
 notable adventures, came over with the professed inten- 
 tion of captivating the king ; that very king to whom 
 the short-sighted .policy of her uncle had once refused 
 her as a bride ! * Hortense concealed, under a languid 
 air and a careless manner, as much arrogance and ambi- 
 tion as a Cleveland or a Portsmouth, with more natural 
 wit than either of them. But born to beauty, rank, 
 power, wealth, she was the complete spoiled child of 
 nature and fortune ; a sort of female Buckingham, in her 
 uncontrollable passions, her extravagant whims, and in- 
 stability of purpose. She had scarcely arrived in Lon- 
 don, where she was received with distinction, when a 
 sudden passion for the Prince de Monaco put to flight all 
 her ambitious views on the heart of Charles ; for with 
 her the last caprice was ever paramount. The court was 
 thus spared the delectable amusement of a combat of 
 daggers or bodkins between the rival duchesses ; but St. 
 Evr^mond was in despair, and Charles in a fury. The 
 vagrant heart of this royal Squire of Dames had been 
 captivated in the first moment by the attractions of Maz- 
 arin; she was now dismissed from Whitehall, and he 
 withdrew her pension. After a while his wrath sub- 
 sided, he restored her pension at the earnest intercession 
 of some of her friends at court, but returned to La Ports- 
 mouth, whose power over him was increased by this 
 short estrangement ; she could not, however, by all her 
 arts, detach him from Nell Gwyn, whose genuine wit, 
 unfailing animal spirits, and careless humor, were a re- 
 
 * It is true, that Charles in his exile had offered to marry this niece 
 of Cardinal Mazarin, and it is true that the offer was refused ; it was 
 then Mazarin's interest to keep well with Cromwell, and the return of 
 Charles to his throne was deemed impossible. 
 
390 APPENDIX. 
 
 lief from the vapors, caprices and political cabals which 
 often annoyed him in the duchess's boudoir.* 
 
 As years passed on, her power grew by habit, and with 
 it her arrogance. The ladies of the court tossed their 
 heads at poor Nell, the untitled mistress — but the most 
 immaculate in character, the most illustrious in rank, 
 thought themselves happy in the notice and intimacy of 
 the ennobled courtesan. Now and then she had to en- 
 dure mortifications ; it is true, the Arlingtons, the Sun- 
 derlands, the Arundels, the Cliffords, the Lauderdales — 
 even the lovely young Duchess of York, combined to sur- 
 round the favorite with a glory which kept her in counte- 
 nance and served to gild over her shame — but the Russells, 
 the Cavendishes, the Butlers, stood aloof. She once sent 
 word to the excellent and venerable Duchess of Ormonde 
 that she would dine with her on such a day. The 
 duchess did not decline the honor, but she sent her two 
 grand-daughters, Lady Betty Stanhope and Lady Emily 
 Butler, out of the house on this occasion, and received 
 the Duchess of Portsmouth alone. They sat down to din- 
 ner, with only her chaplain en tiers; and we may easily 
 suppose that the Duchess of Portsmouth did not again 
 invite herself to the table of the Duchess of Ormonde, f 
 
 Carte, who gives us this characteristic trait, has also 
 related an almost incredible instance of the impertinence, 
 
 * One of Andrew Marvel's satires thus alludes to the indolent Charles 
 and his insolent mistresses : 
 
 " In loyal Ubels we have often told him 
 How one has jilted him, the other sold him ; 
 How that affects to laugh, how this to weep, 
 But who can rail so long as he can sleep ! 
 Was ever Prince by two at once misled, 
 False, foolish, old, ill-natured and ill-bred? " 
 
 At all times the licence of personal satire has kept pace with the 
 licence of manners and morals, but the remedy is sometimes as bad as 
 the disease— or rather is itself a disease 
 
 t Carte's Life of Ortnonde. 
 
AppijNDix. 391 
 
 rapacity, and influence of the favorite. When the 
 daughter of the ill-fated Henrietta of Orleans became 
 Queen of Spain,* Charles ordered the famous jeweller 
 Laguse to prepare an ornament of gems of the value of 
 fifteen thousand pounds, as a present to his niece ; and 
 Lord Ossory was appointed envoy extraordinary to 
 convey it to her, with the usual compliment of jongratu- 
 lation ; but the duchess having in the interim cast her 
 eyes on the jewel, it so pleased her fancy that she insisted 
 on appropriating it. The king had every art but the art 
 of saying no^ and Ossory' s journey was stopped, on the 
 plea that economy was the order of the day, and that it 
 was too expensive ; on the same economical principle the 
 jewel was presented to the Duchess of Portsmouth. 
 What became of it afterwards I do not know. 
 
 On another occasion the Duke of York took it into 
 his head to descant in her presence on the virtue and 
 piety of Louis XIV. who, at the command of a new 
 confessor, had sent Montespan into a convent during 
 Lent, in order that he might be contrite with a better 
 grace. The duke related all the circumstances and 
 dwelt upon them with much eloquence and solemnity, 
 to the infinite impatience and embarrassment of the 
 duchess ; she was however quitte pour la frayeur. 
 
 The queen detested her; but the little spirit which 
 poor Catherine had at first exhibited, as well as her 
 aflfection for the king, had long subsided, — the first into 
 passive endurance, the latter into absolute indifference. 
 When the act was passed in 1678, obliging all persons to 
 take a test against Popery, and a proviso was inserted in 
 favor of the queen and nine ladies about her person, she 
 required all her attendants to cast lots, but named the 
 Duchess of Portsmouth with herself, as excepted, and 
 not to be exposed to the uncertainty of a lot. The ex- 
 
 * She was sent into Spain at the age of fourteen, and perished, like 
 her mother, in the bloom of youth, and by a similar death. 
 
392 APPENDIX. 
 
 cuse made for this piece of complacency to her rival was 
 her own perilous situation, which made it necessary to 
 display an extreme alacrity in anticipating the wishes 
 of the king. This conduct, the effect of fear only, 
 excited so little gratitude, that not long afterwards we 
 have an instance of the abject and heartless slavery of 
 Charles, and of the unfeeling insolence of his sultana, 
 which cannot be recorded without indignation. The 
 duchess was lady of the bed-chamber to the queen as 
 lyady Castlemaine had been before her ; not so much to 
 preserve appearances, as to give her, by virtue of her 
 office, a right to lodgings in Whitehall. It may easily 
 be imagined that the duties of her place were dispensed 
 with ; but on one occasion, contrary to her usual custom 
 and the queen's wishes, she chose to attend on Her 
 Majesty at dinner, and behaved with so much afifrontery, 
 that the queen, who had little command of temper, was 
 thrown into extreme disorder, and at last burst into 
 tears.* The duchess laughed behind her fan, and 
 uttered some words of derision almost aloud : — this 
 audacity excited so much disgust and indignation that 
 the king interposed. Catherine's spirit was, however, 
 a mere flash of excited temper, and the next time we 
 hear of her she is the Duchess of Portsmouth's partner 
 at lyoo.t 
 
 Many intrigues were carried on against the imperious 
 favorite ; many attempts were made to remove her, or 
 introduce a rival, or a substitute, in the heart of the in- 
 dolent, inconstant Charles — but without effect. She 
 had numerous enemies, and not one friend ; but she had 
 so many spies and dependants around her ; she was so 
 well served through fear or interest, that she contrived 
 to anticipate or defeat all the plots against her, and keep 
 old Rowley chained to her footstool while he lived. J 
 
 * Sir John Reresby's Memoirs. 
 
 t Lady Sunderland's Letters. 
 
 tThe interest of the story of " Peveril of the Peak " turns on a plot 
 
Appendix. 393 
 
 Nor did she reign merely through the influence of her 
 beauty and her feminine arts. If this woman had con- 
 fined herself to securing her personal influence in the 
 heart of Charles — if she had been satisfied with amassing 
 wealth and appropriating diamonds, the world had 
 wanted one signal instance of mischievous, misplaced 
 power in our sex. We find the Duchess of Portsmouth 
 almost from her first arrival in England engaged in the 
 deepest and most dangerous state intrigues ; and so com- 
 pletely did she fulfil the -intentions and instructions of 
 Louis, in binding her lover to the French interests, that 
 England, to use the strong expression of one historian, 
 "was, in her time, little better than a province of 
 France. ' ' As far as the government was concerned this 
 was true ; but fortunately the tide of national feeling had 
 set in a contrary direction, and though repressed for a 
 while, it was afterwards nobly asserted. 
 
 In the boudoir of the Duchess of Portsmouth was con- 
 certed that treaty, or rather that conspiracy, between 
 Charles II. and Louis XIV. a principal article of which 
 was, that Charles should not call a Parliament for a 
 certain number of years, and that during that time he 
 should have money from the court of France to enable 
 him to govern independently, and carry his measures 
 without the consent of his people. The amount of this 
 pension caused much dispute. The plea used by Charles 
 to persuade Louis to come in to his terms was, " that it 
 would render England for ever dependant on him, and 
 put it out of the power of the English to oppose him. ' ' 
 
 of this kind, fictitious of course, but resembling in its outline the story 
 of Miss Ivawson. The king obtained the nickname of Old Rowley, 
 from that of an ugly old horse in the royal stud, which was celebrated 
 for the number and beauty of its offspring. He was ignorant of this 
 satirical cognomen, till one day happening to visit one of the maids of 
 honor, he found her singing a most libellous song on " Old Rowley the 
 King." After listening a few minutes at the door, he tapped gently ; 
 "Who's there?" said MiSs Lawson from within ; " Old Rowley him- 
 self, madam," replied the king, opening the door. 
 
394 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 These were the king's own words— may they stick like 
 plague-spots to his memory ! The Duchess of Ports- 
 mouth promised for her lover, that if Louis would give 
 four million of livres, he should enter into all the en- 
 gagements the King of France could desire. The terms 
 were at last arranged between Bouillon the French 
 envoy, and Lord Sunderland. 
 
 During this secret negotiation, French money was 
 lavished on all sides d pleines mains: not only the min- 
 isters, courtiers, and their dependants, but some of the 
 women of the highest rank in the Court accepted pres- 
 ents and gratifications from France, on conditions pretty 
 well understood ; and ' ' not to be corrupted, was the 
 shame. ' ' * Many of these transactions were well known 
 to the king, who treated them with profligate indiflfer- 
 ence and even raillery. While Charles and his confidants 
 were bribed into compliance with the wishes of Louis, 
 the French ambassador and the Duchess of Portsmouth 
 were intriguing with the popular or Whig party, in 
 order to embarrass the government, and prevent the 
 king from becoming too independent : and Charles was 
 
 *The French Minister thus writes to his master — "Lady Arlington 
 having offered in her husband's presence to accept of the present in- 
 tended for her husband, he reproached her, but very obligingly." 
 About a year afterwards, he says : — "My Lord Arlington made me a 
 visit on purpose to let me know how much he is penetrated with the 
 marks of esteem and distinction which Your Majesty has given by the 
 magnificent present made to Lady Arlington." Again, " Lady Shrews- 
 bury, on receiving her French pension, said, She would make Buck- 
 ingham comply with the king in all things." Again, "If Your Maj- 
 esty thinks I ought again to press Lord HoUis to except the box of 
 diamonds, I may, by means of Lady Hollis, make him accept of it. I 
 don't presume she will be so dilficult as he has been." (Lord Hollis 
 died before the box could be again offered to him, and it was given to 
 Lord St. Albans.) Montagu was promised 100,000 livres for contriving 
 the disgrace and fall of Lord Danby, (but received only half the sum ;) 
 "Lord Sunderland and the Duchess of Portsmouth hinted that they 
 expected gratifications from France." (They received 10,000 and 
 5000 pistoles with a very good grace.) See the original despatches 
 quoted in Dalrymple's Appendix. 
 
APPENDIX. 395 
 
 duping, or trying to dupe, all parties in turn. In the 
 midst of this scene of perfidy and meanness, and moral 
 and political abasement, — while the traitor nobles, and 
 their more traitorous king, were licking the dust like 
 reptiles round the footstool of a French courtesan, was 
 she on whom so much of the odium has been thrown, 
 the most culpable or the most contemptible figure in the 
 vile group ? Like Circe, who retained her human and 
 feminine attributes in the midst of the herd of wretches 
 around her, transformed and degraded by the taste of 
 her enchanted cup, she had still some womanly feelings 
 left — and for her^ Justice might find some excuse, — for 
 the others none. She was introduced to the French 
 Court just in time to witness the elevation and triumph 
 of Madame de Montespan ; to see her the object of envy 
 to the women, and of obsequious homage to the men ; to 
 see her carriage surrounded by a troop of horse, and her 
 levee crowded by obsequious nobles ; — Was it to be ex- 
 pected that she alone was to look beyond this illusion, 
 and turn from a temptation which she had learned to 
 regard as an object of ambition ? She was a foreigner ; 
 treachery to England was truth and good service to her 
 own country ; perfidy on one side was patriotism on the 
 other, — at least it has been accounted so in other hero- 
 ines ; only this French Judith was satisfied with turning 
 the head of her lover, and had no wish to cut it off. 
 Farther — she was a woman, with the feelings and affec- 
 tions of a woman. She was attached to Charles, was 
 true to him — to him who believed her the only friend he 
 had in the world, yet did not hesitate to dupe her when- 
 ever he wished through her to dupe others. She doated 
 on her son, and by these two feelings, superior even to 
 her fears and her avarice, she was frequently governed 
 by the intriguing ministers around her. For instance, 
 when the Bill to exclude the Duke of York from the 
 throne was agitated with such factious clamor, the nation 
 beheld the strange spectacle of the French mistress, 
 
396 APPEiNDlX. 
 
 leagued with the Whig and Protestant faction, and in- 
 triguing with the popular leaders of the House of Com- 
 mons against the Court; because that Machiavel, 
 Shaftesbury, had represented to her, that if the usual 
 law of succession was once set aside, her son the Duke 
 of Richmond would become of more importance, and 
 even have some chance of succeeding to the throne : and 
 such was her ignorance or her imbecility, that she fell 
 at once into the snare. They also worked on he'r fears 
 by threatening to vote her a public grievance. It is 
 said that on this occasion she threw herself at the 
 feet of the king and shed a flood of tears, beseeching 
 him not to sacrifice her and himself to his aSection 
 for his brother : but this time she kneeled and wept in 
 vain. 
 
 It is curious, that during that grotesque and sanguin- 
 ary farce, the Popish plot, which threatened even the 
 person of the queen, the Duchess of Portsmouth not only 
 escaped its all-devouring snares, but enjoyed a kind of 
 popularity, so that when a member of the House of Com- 
 mons rose up to move an address, "That she should 
 be sent out of the kingdom," the purport of his speech 
 was no sooner guessed than it was drowned in a tumult 
 of dissentient voices. One part of this pretended plot 
 being the murder of the king, she had an excuse 
 for being on the opposite side. It is even said that at 
 the trial of poor old Lord Stafford she was in the court 
 dealing out smiles and bon-bons to the witnesses against 
 him. 
 
 It is said in the life of Lord Russell, that the old Earl 
 of Bedford offered the Duchess of Portsmouth one hun- 
 dred thousand pounds to procure the pardon of his son, 
 and that she refused it. As she was never known to re- 
 sist a bribe, it is more probable that she did make the 
 attempt and failed. In this instance, as in some others, 
 the Duke of York's influence outweighed hers. 
 
 In the year 1681 her son, the Duke of Richmond, then 
 
APPENDIX. 397 
 
 about nine years old, was installed a Knight of the 
 Garter. At this period, and previously, the Knights of 
 the Garter wore the blue ribbon round the neck with 
 the George, appendant on the breast; but the duke's 
 mother having some time after his installation introduced 
 him to the king with his ribbon over his left shoulder, 
 and the George appendant on the right side. His Majesty 
 was so much pleased with the alteration, that he com- 
 manded it in future to be adopted. Thus the Duchess 
 of Portsmouth has some claim to be considered as joint 
 patroness of the most noble order of the Garter with the 
 Countess of Salisbury of chivalrous memory, whose face 
 could not have been more fair, and whose fame, by all 
 accounts, was not much fairer. 
 
 About the same time another secret treaty with France 
 was arranged in the boudoir of Madame la Duchesse. 
 The principal article of this treaty was, that Charles 
 should never more call a parliament, and should receive 
 on that condition two millions of livres for one year, and 
 a million and a half for two years more. Lord Hyde, 
 Lord St. Albans, and the Duchess of Portsmouth were 
 alone privy to this infamous bargain, which was man- 
 aged verbally, but the proofs of which remain in Baril- 
 lon's despatches. It is well known that after this treaty, 
 or rather treason, had been consummated, Charles dis- 
 solved his parliament and never assembled another. It 
 was a little later, about 1682, that Louis, being resolved 
 to seize on Luxembourg, the key to the Netherlands and 
 Germany, prevailed on Charles, through the influence 
 and caresses of the Duchess of Portsmouth, to look on 
 quietly while this piece of arbitrary injustice was perpe- 
 trated against the faith of treaties and against the interest 
 of England. Charles received ;^30o,ooo for his passive 
 treachery. The amount of the gratification which re- 
 warded the duchess is not ascertained ; but she ever after- 
 wards piqued herself on this aiFair of Luxembourg, and 
 boasted of it as the last and best piece of service she had 
 
398 
 
 APPENBIX. 
 
 rendered the court of France. * In the midst of these 
 vile state intrigues, the interior of Whitehall is described 
 by contemporaries as a scene ' ' of inexpressible luxury 
 and profaneness, gaming and all dissoluteness," but the 
 under current was bitterness, terror and gloom. Charles, 
 who had been so remarkable for his easy gaiety, had 
 latterly sunk into a kind of melancholy apathy ; the 
 duchess became alarmed by his illness and her own un- 
 popularity. She changed her conduct after the dissolu- 
 tion of the last parliament, turned against the popular 
 party, connected her interests with those of the Duke of 
 York, and brought Lord Sunderland again into the ad- 
 ministration ; in fact, Sunderland, whose insinuating 
 arts few could withstand, found means to work on her 
 feelings and her fears. He began by proving to her that 
 her son could never hope to succeed to the crown, but 
 that, through his (Lord Sunderland's) interest and that 
 of the Duke of York, she might gain an immense heredi- 
 tary settlement for him. The duke was not wanting in 
 promises on his part, so that on one occasion, in 1684, 
 when the duchess was seized with a sudden indisposition 
 (the consequence of that habitual gourmandise in which 
 she indulged), she called the king to her and made him 
 swear, in case of her death, to stand by his brother. On 
 her recovery, the Duke of York sent to thank her for a 
 proof of interest, which appeared at least sincere ; yet he 
 contrived to delay, and at length to evade, the promised 
 settlement on her son. Meantime the king's spirits de- 
 clined ; nothing, as it was commonly said, went near his 
 heart, for in truth he had no heart ; but the inextricable 
 web of difl&culties in which his duplicity and extrava- 
 gance had involved him began to prey on his mind. H^ 
 hqd been false to all, he was mistrusted by all ; insignifi- 
 cant abroad, contemptible at home : while Louis XIV., 
 
 * Burnet, vol. ii., p. 181. Dalrymple, vol. i., Appendix to Book \ 
 Evelyn, vol. i., p. 537. 
 
APPENDIX. 399 
 
 sick of his vacillating and tired of his complaints and his 
 mean importunities, not only withheld his pension and 
 intrigued with his subjects against him, but actually 
 threatened to publish through Europe the articles of 
 their secret treaties, which would not only have rendered 
 him detestable in the eyes of all men, but might have 
 proved fatal to his crown and life ; * his father had lost 
 his head for much less cause. Charles was struck at 
 once with terror and rage to be thus over-reached ; his 
 gaiety forsook him, and with it his good-breeding and 
 good nature, which were mere manner and temperament. 
 To his natural laziness was added extreme depression of 
 spirits, and a sudden and unusual fit of jealousy increased 
 his ill-humor. In 1684, the Grand- Prieur de'Vendome,t 
 brother to the Duke of Vendome, came over from France 
 on some secret mission, and had particular orders to in- 
 gratiate himself with the Duchess of Portsmouth. This 
 Grand-Prieur appears to have possessed in himself a rare 
 union of qualifications ; he was prelate, statesman, sol- 
 dier, courtier, and man of gallantry; very handsome, and 
 very slovenly. He began by losing his money to the 
 duchess, and then, under pretence of state affairs, was so 
 frequently closeted with her, that the king, roused from 
 his usual indolence and indifference, ordered the Grand- 
 Prieur to quit England. Yet his behavior to the duchess 
 at this very time displayed an increase of fondness and 
 confidence, and whether there were any real grounds for 
 this suspicion remains doubtful. 
 
 Such was at this period the alteration in Charles's 
 spirits and deportment, that the Duchess of Portsmouth 
 began to tremble for him and for herself. When she 
 was about to make a journey to Bath, whither Sir 
 
 * Barillon, the French envoy, confesses that he had a discretionary 
 power to threaten Charles with this discovery, but was to keep it in 
 reserve ac a stroke of thunder. 
 
 t He was the grandson of Henri Quatre, consequently cousin to th« 
 king. He came over first in l68g 
 
410 APPENDIX. 
 
 Charles Scarborough (the court physician) had ordered 
 her, Lord Sunderland stopped her departure, by asking 
 her if she could be such a fool as to let the king feel he 
 could do without her? And taking advantage of her 
 fondness for her lover,* his fertile brain and restless 
 spirit, which seem to have ' ' toiled in frame of vil- 
 lainies," conceived a new plot; he persuaded the duchess 
 that the only means of restoring the king to health and 
 spirits was to prevail on him to change his measures en- 
 tirely, reconcile himself to the parliament and people, 
 banish the Duke of York, and recall Monmouth, t The 
 duchess listened ; always impotent in mind, facile as she 
 was headstrong, and without any fixed principle of con- 
 duct, except that of securing the king's aflPections and 
 her own power over him, she readily lent herself to 
 Sunderland's projects ; but in the very commence- 
 ment of this new intrigue Charles was seized with 
 apoplexy. 
 
 It must be allowed that the deportment of the Duchess 
 of Portsmouth, in his last moments, considering her 
 situation and her tenets of belief, did her some honor. 
 She had often been compared to Alice Pierce in the 
 lampoons of the days, but her conduct was very different. 
 It was made a subject of reproach to her, that she was 
 found seated by the king's pillow and supporting his 
 head, where the queen ought to have been (but where 
 the queen was not) ; and it was considered " a piece of 
 indecency ' ' that she had desired Bishop Kenn to take 
 the Duke of Richmond to his father to receive his last 
 blessing ; % but her solicitude on these points does not 
 
 * The expressions used by Dalrymple. 
 
 t Lord Sunderland's aim was to ingratiate himself with the Prince 
 of Orange, whose party was becoming every day stronger in England. 
 
 J The good bishop was much blamed for his compliance. — Vide 
 Burnet. This was the same bishop who, when Charles II. lodged at 
 his house at Winchester, refused to admit Nell Gwyn into it. The 
 kiiig put himself into a passion ; but Nell defended the bishop, ob- 
 
APPENDIX. 401 
 
 surely deserve so hard a construction. On the second 
 day of the king's seizure, Barillon writes, that he found 
 the duchess in her apartment overwhelmed with afflic- 
 tion, but that instead of speaking of her own grief or her 
 own affairs, she appeared extremely anxious for the state 
 of the king's soul. "Nobody," said she, "tells him of 
 his condition, or speaks to him of God. I cannot with 
 decency enter the room ; the Duke of York thinks only 
 of his own affairs. Go to him, I conjure you, and warn 
 him to think of what can be done to save the king's 
 soul ; lose no time, for, if it be deferred ever so little, it 
 will be too late ! ' ' 
 
 She had all along been in the secret of Charles's real 
 sentiments with regard to religion, and a priest being 
 brought, he died in the profession of the Catholic faith. 
 He frequently recommended the Duchess of Portsmouth 
 and her son to his successor, " In terms," says Burnet, 
 " as melting as he could fetch out ; " and after his death 
 the first visit of condolence which James the Second paid 
 was to the Duchess of Portsmouth ; the second to the 
 Queen Dowager, whose grief, in truth, was the more 
 apocryphal of the two. 
 
 Soon after the death of Charles the Second the Duchess 
 of Portsmouth retired to France, carrying with her a 
 large sum in money and jewels ; and from this time, 
 though her life was prolonged beyond the usual term of 
 humanity, very few particulars are known concerning 
 her. She lived at first with considerable splendor, but 
 lost immense sums at play ; and her pension from Eng- 
 land being stopped, it appears that she was reduced to 
 great diificulties. She came over to England in 1699, 
 and found her son, the Duke of Richmond, married to 
 Lady Anne Brudenell, widow of Lord Bellasys, and the 
 father of three children. She returned to Paris, but 
 
 served that he only did his duty, and retired voluntarily to another 
 lodging. 
 
 26 
 
402 APPENDIX. 
 
 came over again in 1715 and was presented to the Prin- 
 cess of Wales, afterwards Queen Caroline. * Her object, 
 it is said, was to obtain a pension from the English gov- 
 ernment : if she had the assurance to ask it, apparently 
 the government had not the assurance to grant it. In 
 1 7 18 she was a poor pensioner on the French court, and 
 was living on an allowance of eight hundred pounds a 
 year. She died at Paris in 1734, aged 87. 
 
 * At the first drawing-room held by George I., the Duchess of 
 Portsmouth, the Countess of Dorchester, ci-devant mistress of James 
 II. ; and the Countess of Orkney, mistress of William III., found 
 themselves standing together in the royal presence. " Good Ivord ! " 
 exclaimed I,ady Dorchester, whose impudence equalled her wit, ' ' who 
 
 would have thought that we three should have met here ! " 
 
 They had all been raised to the peerage on the same terms. 
 
INDEX OF NAMES 
 
 Anne of Austria, 88 
 Arlington, Earl of, 164, 165 
 Arlington, Countess of, 166 
 Armine, Susan. See Bellasys. 
 Arran, Earl of, 118, 187, 198, 201 
 Arscot, Duke d', 94 
 
 Bagot, Miss, 248, 252, 253 
 
 Bardou, Miss, 239, 245 
 
 Barker, Mrs., 263 
 
 Barry, Mrs., 279 
 
 Batteville, Baron de, 57 
 
 Bellasys, I^ady, 372, 373, 374, 375, 376, 377, 378, 
 
 379 
 Bellenden, Miss, 239, 245 
 Blague, Miss, 144, 146, 149, 151, 155, 248 
 Boynton, Miss, 248, 280, 317, 365 
 Brice, Don Gregorio, 175 
 Brinon, 45, 46, 47, 49 
 Brisacier, 144, 155, 248 
 Brissac, Duke de, 238, 229, 230 
 Bristol, Earl of, 195 
 Brooks, Misses, 122, 196, 197 
 Brounker, 294, 295, 296, 297 
 Buckingham, Duchess of, 338, 339 
 Buckingham, Duke of, 116, 161, 162, 336, 3?8 
 Bussy, 33, 196 
 
 Cameran, Count, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56 
 Carlingford, Lord, 346, 348 
 
 f403) . 
 
404 INDEX OF KAMES. 
 
 Carnegy. See Southesk 
 
 Castlemaine, Countess of, 121, 136, 166, 169, 173, 
 180, 183, 196, 201, 282, 285, 333, 335, 341, 345, 
 
 350, 352, 355. 357 
 Charles II., no, in, 112, 113 
 Chesterfield, Countess of, 122, 167, 18I; 183, 184, 
 
 195, 198, 199, 203, 206, 208, 215, 217, 219, 221, 
 
 227, 312 
 Chesterfield, Earl of, 182, 184, 198, 199, ?03, 208, 
 
 210, 213, 219, 224, 226 
 Chiffinch, 357 
 
 Churchill, Miss, 312, 314, 319, 320 
 Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, 350, 351 
 Clarendon, Earl of, 114, 115 
 Cleveland. See Castlemaine 
 Comminge, Mons. de, 171 
 Condd, Prince de, 86, 87, 88, 90, 91, 95, 96, 102, 
 
 105, 175, 176, 177 
 Cornwallis, lyord, 237 
 
 Crofts, 202, 348 
 Cromwell, Oliver, 109 
 
 Davis, Mrs., 354, 355 
 
 Denham, Sir John, 196, 218 
 
 Denham, Lady, 197, 207, 215, 218 
 
 Dorset, Duke of, 213, 215, 351 
 
 Dongon, 250 
 
 Dowager Queen. See Henrietta 
 
 Duncan, 151 
 
 Etheredge, Sir George, 213, 215 
 
 Falmouth, Earl of, 117, 160, 170, 171, 186, rSq, 333, 
 
 253 
 
 Feraulas, 324 
 Feversham, Earl of, 250 
 Fielding, Miss, 248 
 
INDEX OF NAMES. 405 
 
 Piesque, Countess, 130 
 Flamarens, 231, 233, 239 
 Pox, Sir Stephen, 238 
 Francisco, 198 
 
 Gaboury, loi 
 
 ' Garde, Miss de la, 239, 341, 245 
 Gibbs, Miss, 365 
 Gloucester, Duke of, in 
 Grammont, Marechal de, 175, 329 
 Guise, Duke of, 152, 173 
 Gwyn, Nell, 284, 351, 352, 353, 354 
 
 Hall, Jacob, 136, 284 
 
 Hamilton, Anthony. See Biographical Sketch I. 
 Hamilton, George, 166, 182, 183, 184, 198, 200, 30i, 
 303, 203, 205, 306, 308, 209, 219, 227, 300, 301, 
 
 302, 342, 343, 344, 346, 365 
 Hamilton, James, 118, 342 
 
 Hamilton, Miss, 140, 141, 143, 145, 147, 148, 149, 
 150, 151, 153, 154, 1^6, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 
 180, 181, 217, 218, 233, 239, 280, 29f, 300, 301, 
 
 303. 304, 308, 310, 321, 323. 332, 341, 365 
 Henrietta Maria, Queen Dowager, 119, 125, 177 
 Hobart, Miss, 348, 351, 253, 353, 359, 260, 361, 367, 
 
 268, 269, 270, 271, 272, 273, 313, 314, 315 
 Hopital, Mademoiselle de 1', 331 
 Howard, Henry, 159 
 Howard, Thomas, 137 
 Humi&res, Marechal de, 92, 94 
 Hughes, Mrs., 306, 307 
 Hyde, Anne, Duchess of York, 114, 124, 173. 185, 
 
 189, 311 
 Hyde, Mrs., 135 
 
 Jennings, Miss, 253, 256, 281, 286, 391, 365 
 Jermyn, 120, 137, 186, 188, 287, 364 
 
406 INDEX OF NAMES. 
 
 Jones, Earl of Ranelagh, 131 
 
 Katherine, Queen Infanta of Portugal, 112, I32, 124, 
 
 168, 338, 340 
 Killegrew, 187, 242, 244, 276, 277, 278, 335, 337 
 Kirk, Miss. See Warmestre. 
 
 La Motte, 94 
 
 Lawson, Mrs., 369, 370, 371 
 
 Lely, Sir Peter, 217 
 
 Leopold, Archduke, 90 
 
 Levingston, Miss, 248 
 
 L'Orme, Madame de, 228 
 
 Louis XIII., 35 
 
 Louis XIV., 105 
 
 Lussan, Mons. de, 95, 96 
 
 Lyttelton, Sir Charles, 255, 265, 365 
 
 Madame Royale, 60 
 
 Marshall, Mrs., 263 
 
 Matta, 61, 78, 84 
 
 Mazarin, Cardinal, 88, 103 
 
 Mazarin, Peter, 103 
 
 Melo, Francisco de, 123 
 
 Meneville, Madame, 107 
 
 Middlesex. See Dorset 
 
 Middleton, 122, 132, 138, 139, 141, 143, 158, 181 
 
 Monmouth, Duke of, 332, 334 
 
 Monmouth, Duchess of, 334 
 
 Montagu, Edward, 318 
 
 Montagu, Ralph, 138, 318 
 
 Montmorency, 96 
 
 Motte, Houdancourt, Mademoiselle de, 107 
 
 Muskerry, Lord, 145, 154, 304, 308 
 
 Muskerry, Lady, 143, 145, 149, 308, 309, 310 
 
 Newcastle, Duchess of, 154 
 
INDEX OF NAMES. 407 
 
 Olonne, Mademoiselle, 130 
 Orange, Princess of, 112, 121 
 Orleans, Madame, Duchess of, 330 
 Ormond, Duke of, 115, 236 
 Ossory, Earl of, 118 
 Oxford, Earl of, 263, 264 
 
 Pan^tra, Donna, 123 
 
 Portsmouth, Duchess of, 380, 381, 382, 383, 384, 385, 
 
 386, 387, 388, 389, 390, 391, 393, 393, 394, 395, 
 
 396, 397, 398, 399, 400, 401, 403 
 Poussatin, 174, 177, 178 
 Pralin, Du Plessis, 36, loi 
 Price, Miss, 150, 151, 155, 248, 249, 250, 251, 267, 
 
 274, 278, 283, 286, 290, 292, 293, 295, 296 
 Progers, Edward, 247 
 
 Qu^roualle, lyouise de. See Portsmouth. 
 
 Rawlings, Giles, 138 
 
 Richelieu, Cardinal, 35 
 
 Richmond, Duke of, 240, 241, 357, 358, 359, 360, 
 
 365 
 Richmond, Duchess o£ See Stewart 
 
 Robarts, Lady, 193, 194, 195, 311 
 
 Roberts, Lord, 193, 194 
 
 Rochester, Earl of, 213, 314, 249, 253, 259, 265, 175, 
 
 289, 365 
 Rupert, Prince, 147, 305, 306 
 Russell, John, 157, 179, 180 
 Russell, William, 157 
 
 St. Albans, Earl of, 116, 120 
 
 St. Chaumont, Mme. de, 321, 330 
 
 St. Evremond, 33, 127, 129, 131, 158, 161, 311, 366 
 
 St. Germain, Madame de, 61, 64, 70, 71, 74 
 
 Saucourt, 331 
 
408 INDEX OF NAMES. 
 
 Sedley, Sir Charles, 213, 215 
 
 Senantes, Madame de, 62, 71 
 
 Senantes, Marquis of, 73 
 
 Shrewsbury, Countess of, 122, 136, 137, 138, 216, 
 
 234. 338 
 
 Silvius, Sir Gabriel, 245 
 
 Southesk, Lady, igo, 233 
 
 Stewart, Miss, 133, 161, 302, 258, 335, 357, 365 
 
 Suse, Countess de la, 231 
 
 Sydney, Robert, 119, 315 
 
 Sylva, Don Pedro, 123 
 
 Taaffe, Lord, 240, 243, 244 
 
 Talbot, Duke of Tyrconnel, 187, 188, 192, 233, 234, 
 
 235, 280, 365 
 Talbot, Peter, 235 
 Talbot, Thomas, 235 
 Tambonneau, 231, 232, 233 
 Tanes, Count de, 60 
 Taurauv^dez, 123 
 
 Temple, Miss, 235, 255, 259, 267, 365 
 Termes, 143, 148, 152, 324 
 Thanet, Lord, 148 
 Thomas, Prince, 36 
 Toulongeon, 159, 161, 367 
 Turenne, Mardchal de, 56, 91, 93 
 
 Vend6me, Csesar de, 43 
 Villeroy, loi 
 
 Warmestre, Miss, 132, 139, 239, 244 
 
 Wells, Miss, 246, 247, 248, 256 
 
 Wetenhall, Mrs., 297, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302, 308, 
 310. 343 
 
 Yarborough, Sir Thomas, 144, 249 
 York, James, Duke of, 92, 113, 156, 185, 190 n 
 194, X98, 217, 256, 310