CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM W.^.Atwood DATE DUE 0CT'14 1953 HV Cornell University Library DA 447.G74H21 1889a 3 1924 027 989 601 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027989601 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT BY ANTHONY HAMILTON EDITED, WITH NOTES, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT ILLUSTRATED NEW YORK WORTHINGTON CO., 747 BROADWAY 1889 CONTENTS. PAGE Biographical Sketch of Anthony Hamilton . . vii Epistle to the Count de Grammont .... xxii CHAPTER FIRST. Introduction CHAPTER SECOND. Arrival of the Chevalier Grammont at the Siege OF Trino, and the Life he led there . . 5 CHAPTER THIRD. Education and Adventures of the Chevalier Gram- mont before his Coming to the Siege of Trino 15 CHAPTER FOURTH. His Arrival at the Court of Turin, and how he Spent his Time there 31; CONTENTS. CHAPTER FIFTH. He Returns to the Court of France — His Adven- tures AT THE Siege of Arras — His Reply to Cardinal Mazarin — He is Banished the Court 67 CHAPTER SIXTH. His Arrival at the English Court — The various Personages of this Court 93 CHAPTER SEVENTH. He Falls in Love with Miss Hamilton— Various Adventures at the Ball in the Queen's Draw- ing-room — Curious Voyage of his Valet-de- Chambre to and from Paris , . . - 137 CHAPTER EIGHTH. Funny Adventure of the Chaplain Poussatin — The Story of the Siege of Lerida — Marriage of the Duke of York, and other Details about the English Court uy CHAPTER NINTH. Various Love Intrigues at the English Court aig CONTENTS. CHAPTER TENTH. Other Love Intrigues at the English Court PAGB 38l CHAPTER ELEVENTH. Reitjrn of the Chevalier Grammont to France — He is sent back to England — Various Love In- trigues at this Court, and Marriage of most of THE Heroes of these Memoirs . . . .341 fM!i«? BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF ANTHONY HAMILTON. IF Anthony Hamilton, the celebrated author of the Grammont * Memoirs, much cannot now be with certainty known. The accounts pre- fixed to the different 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 pre- ceding ones, was published in Paris, to which a sketch of his life was also added ; but it contains rather just criticisms on his works, than any very novel or satisfactory anecdote concerning himselt 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 acqur.inted witL Anthony Hamilton was of the noble family of that name : * For uniformity's sake the writer of this sketch has followed the Memoirs in the spelling of this name ; hut he thinka it necessary to observe that it should be Qramont, not Qrammont, viii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF Sir George Hamilton, his father, was a younger son of James, Earl of Abercom, 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 mater- nal side, were entirely Iiish. 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 Eoscrea, 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 Trance when Anthony was an infant ; but this is not the fact : " Sir George Hamilton," says Carte, " would have accompanied 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, notwithstanding much clamour 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 ITormandy,-!- in great poverty and distress, till the Marchioness of Ormond, a lady whose mind was as exalted as her birth, went over to England, and, after much solicita- * In Septemter, 1646, Owren CNeale took Eoscrea, and, as Carte says, " put man, woman, and child to the sword, except Sir George ffamilton'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. t Hence possibly Voltaire's mistake in stating that Hamilton wns born at Caen, in his Catalogue des Ecrivains du Siicle de Louis XIV. ANTHONY HAMILTON. ix tion, obtained two thoiisancl pounds a-year from her Own and her husband's different estates in Ireland. This favour was granted her by Cromwell, who always professed the great- est respect for her. The Marchioness resided in Ireland, with the younger part of her family, from 1655 till after the Eesto- ration ; while the Marquis of Ormond continued for a con- siderable part of that period with his two sisters. Lady Clan- carty and Lady Hamilton, at the Feuillatines, in the Faubourg St. Jacques, in Paris. It appears from a letter of the Marquis to Sir Eobert South- well, 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, Eoman Catholics. Sir George Hamilton also, according to Carte,* was a Eoman Catholic ; Anthony, therefore, was bred in the religion of his family, and conscientiously adhered to it through Hfe. He entered early into the army of Louis XTV., as did his brothers George, Eichard, and John, the former of whom introduced the company of English gens d'armes into Prance, in 1667, accord- ing to Le Pfere Daniel, author of the History of the French Army, who adds the following short account of its establish- ment : Charles II., being restored to his throne, brought over to England several catholic officers and soldiers, who had served abroad with Tiitti and his brother, the Duke of York, and incorporated them with his guards ; but the parliament having obliged bim to dismiss all officers who were Catholics, the king permitted Greorge Hamilton to take such as were willing to accompany him to France, where Louis XIV. formed * That historian states that the king (Charles I.) deprived several papists of their military commiasiona, and, among others, Sir George Hamilton, who, notwithstanding, served him with lojalty and liuvar/- ing fidelity. X BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 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 be- longed 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.f Anthony Hamilton's residence was now almost constantly in France. Some years previous to this he had been much in England, and, towards the close of Charles II. 's reign, in Ire- land, where so many of his connections remained. f When James II. succeeded to the throne, the door being then opened to the Eoman Catholics, he entered iato 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 aU, per- haps, to his Grace's early disapprobation of James's conduct in Ireland, which displayed itself more fully afterwards, espe- cially in the ecclesiastical promotions. Henry, Earl of Clarendon, son to the lord-chancellor, was at that time lord-lieutenant of Ireland, and appears, notwith- standing his general distrust and dislike of the Catholics, to have held Anthony Hamilton in much estimation : he speaks of his knowledge of, and constant attention to, the duties of * They were composed of English, Scotch, and Irish. + 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. t Hamilton had three sisters : the Countess of Grammont ; another married to Matthew Forde, Esq., of the county of Wexford ; and another to Sir Donogh O^rien, ancestor to the present Sir Edward O'Brien, — a branch of the Thomond family. ANTHONY HAMILTON. x5 liis profession ; his probity, and the dependance that was to be placed on him, in preference to others of the same reKgiona persuasion, and, in October, 1686, wrote to the Earl of Sunder- land 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 com . mand as colonel, though he is but lieutenant-colonel to Sir Thomas Newcomen, in regard of the commands Tie 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 recommend to make Colonel Anthony Hamilton a privy-councillor here."* Lord Clarendon's recom- mendations 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 Eling, notwithstand- ing he had strongly opposed the new-modeUing of the army by the furious TyrconneL In the brief accounts whicn have been given of his life, it is said that he had a regiment of in- fantry ; but, though this is very probable, there is no mention whatever of his commanding a regiment in the lists published of King James's army, which are supposed to be very accu- rate : he is indeed set down among the general officers. Lord Clarendon, in one of his letters to the lord-treasurer, states, " That the news of the day was, that Colonel EusseU was to be lieutenant-colonel to the Duke of Ormond's regiment, and that Colonel Anthony Hanultou was to have Eusaell's regi- ment, and that Mr. LuttreU was to be lieutenant-colonel to Sir Thomas Newcomen, in the place of Anthony Hamilton."t It is not known whether Anthony was present at the battle • Chapel-Izod, July 11, 1686. t Dublin Castle, October 23, 1686. xii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF of the Boyne, or of Aughriin : his brother Jehu was killed at the latter ; and Eichard, who was a Heutenant-general, led on the cavalry with uncommon gallantry and spirit at the Boyne : it is to be wished that his candour and integrity had equalled his courage ; but he acted with great duplicity ; and King Wniiam's contemptuous echoing back his word to him, when he declared something on his honour, is weU known* 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. Eichard lived much with the Cardinal de BouOlon, who was the great pro- tector of the Irish in France, and kept (what must have been indeed highly consolatory to many an emigrant of condition) a magnificent table, which has been recorded in the most glow- ing and grateful terms, by that gay companion, and celebrated lover of good cheer, Philippe de Coulanges, who occasionally mentions the " amiable Eichard Hamilton "f as one of the car- dinal's particular intimates. Anthony, who was regarded par- ticularly 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 alon^; his sister, Madame de Grammont, living more at court, or in Paris, than always suited his inclinations or his convenience. His great resource at St. Germain was the family of the Duke of Ber- wick (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 4 This anecdote has been erroneously recoraed of Anthony. t So Coulanges calls him. ANTHONY HAMILTON. jdii fiiencL It is necessary to mention this lady particularly, as well aster 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 Lady Sophia Stewart, sister to the beautiful Duchess of Eichmond, 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 correspondence, and the two last 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 Biilkeley ; but their union would have been that of hunger and thirst, for both were very poor and very illustrious : their junction 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 Arabie,"-|- 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 Facardms, and, more especially. La Flewr d'Epvne. Some of the introductory verses to these productions are written with peculiar ease and grace ; and are highly extolled, and even imitated, by Voltaire. La Harpe praises the Fleur d'Upine, as the work of an original genius : I do not think, however, that they are much relished in England, probably because very ill translated. Another of his literary productions was the > (O'Brien) ancestor to Marshal Thomond. Lord Clare was killed at the battle of Bamillies. 1" They were wretched imitations of some of the Persian and Arabian tales, in which everything was distorted,,and rendered absurd and pre- XIV BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF novel called Le Belier, which he wrote on the following occa- sion : Louis XIV. had presented to the Countess of Grammont (whom he highly esteemed) a remarkably elegant small country house in the park of Versailles: this house became so fashion- able 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 enter- tain 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 enchant- ment, and a princess, to commemorate her resolution. It has however happened that the giant Moulineau has had the ad- vantage 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 col- lecting the memoirs of his brother-in-law, the Count de Gram- mont, as we may conjecture, from the epistle beginning " Honneur des rives eloigndes "f being written towards the close of the above year : it is dated, or supposed to be so, from the banks of the Garonne. Among other authors whom Hamilton at first proposes to Grammont, as capable of writing his life (though, on reflection, he thinks them not suited to it), * Le bel air de la cour est d'aller k la jolie maiaon, que le roi a donnee a la Comtesse de Gramont dans le Pare de Versailles. C'est tellemeut la mode, que c'est uue honte de n'y avoir pas 6te. La Comtesse de Gramont se porte trfe-bien : il est certain que le roi la traite a mer- veille. Paris, le 5 Aoikt, nOZ."—Leitre de Madame de Coulanges d, Madame de Grignan. + A translation of this epistle, which is a complete sketch of the Grammont Memoirs, is subjoined to this Biographical Sketch of the Author. ANTHONY HAMILTON. xv is Boileau, whose genius he professes to admire ; but adds that his muse has somewhat of malignity ; and that such a muse might caress with one hand and satirize him with the other. This letter was sent by Hamilton to Boileau, who answered him with great politeness ; but, at the same time that he highly extolled the epistle to Grammont, he, very naturally, seemed anxious to efface any impression which such a representation of his satiric vein might make on the Count's m in d, and ac- cordingly added a few complimentary verses to him : this let- ter is dated, Paris, 8th February, 1705. About the same time, another letter was written to Hamilton on the subject of the Epistle to Grammont, by La ChapeUe, who also seemed desi- rous that his life should be given to the public, but was much perplexed which of the most celebrated ancients to compare the count to. Mecsenas first presented himself to his imagi- nation : absurdly enough, in my opinion ; for there was not a trace of similitude between the two characters. This, however, afforded him some opportunity, as he thought, of discovering a resemblance between Horace and Hamilton, in which he equally failed. Petronius is then brought forward, as affording some comparison to the Count ;-:-a man of pleasure, giving up the day to sleep, and the night to entertainment ; but then, adds La ChapeUe, it will be suggested that, such is the per- petual activity of the Count of Grammont's mind, he may be said to sleep neither night nor day ; and if Petronius 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 perfectly vapid and uninteresting, was extremely flattering to Grammont ; and the result was, that he very much wished to have his hfe, 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 xvi BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF now so familiarized, -was, on every account, singled out by him as the person who could best introduce him historically to the public. It is ridiculous to mention Grammont as the author of his own Memoirs : his excellence, as a man of wit, was en- tirely limited to conversation. Bussy Eabutin, 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 composition. Besides, independent of everything else, what man would so outrage all decorum as to call him- self the admiration of the age ? for so is Grammont extolled in the Memoirs, with a variety of other encomiastic expres- sions ; although, perhaps, such vanity has not been without example. Hamilton, it is true, says that he acts as Grammont's secretary, 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. Grammont 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 repeated conversations, and the long intimacy which sub- sisted between them. Whether Grammont formally dictated the events of liis younger days, or not, is of little consequence : from his general character, it is probable that he did not. How- ever, the whole account of such adventures as he was engaged in, from his leaving home to his interview with Cardinal Maza- rin (excepting the character of Monsieur de Senantes, and Matta, who was well known to Hamilton), the relation of the feiege of Lerida, the description of Gregorio Brice, and the in- imitable disooveiy of his own magnificent suit of clothes on ANTHONY HAMILTON. xvii the ridiculous bridegroom at Abbeville ; aU such particulars must have been again and again repeated to Hamilton by Grammont, and may therefore be fairly grounded on the count's authority. The characters of the court of Charles II., and its history, are to be ascribed to Hamilton : from his resi- dence, at various times, in the court of London, his connection with the Ormond family, not to mentiop 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- gennan.* 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, Grammont, like many an old gentleman, seems to have recollected the gaieties of his youth with more complaisance than was necessary, and has drawn them in pretty strong colours in that part of the work which is more particularly his own. He laughed at poor FonteneUe's scruples, and complained to the chancellor, who forced the censor to acqtiiesce : 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, general utility, united with great vivacity of composition, Gil Bias is • She -was born at the castle of Kilkenny, July, 1C40, as appears from Carte's life of her fg-ther, the Duke of Ormoncl. xviii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF unrivalled: but, as a merely agreeable book, the Memoirs of Grammont perhaps deserve that character more than any ■which was ever written: it is pleasantry throughout, and pleasantry of the best sort, imforced, 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 preference 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 sin.gular and agreeable man that France could produce. StiU, however, though Grammont and Hamilton were of dispositions very different, the latter must have possessed talents peculiarly 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 supported 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 colours have they been drawn by Hamilton ? The elegance of his pencil has rendered them more seductive and dangerous, than if it had more faithfully copied the originals. From such a mingled mass of grossness of language, and of conduct, one ■would have turned a-way with disgust and abhorrence ; but Hamil- ■ton "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 ao"w have for ever concealed them. ANTHONY HAMILTON. xix The Count de Graramont died in 1707. Some years after the publication of his Memoirs, Hamilton was engaged 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 very polite letter of thanks to him, which is inserted in Pope's Correspondence. Hamil- ton's Essay was, I believe, never printed, though Pope warmly requested to have that permission: the reign of Louis 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 acquaint- ance few were left : the Duke of Berwick was employed in the field, or at Versailles : some of the ladies, however, con- tinued 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 Wort- ley Montague), he passed much of his time. He occasion- ally indulged in poetical compositions, of a style suited to his age and character; and when he was past seventy, he wrote that excellent copy of verses, Sur I' Usage de la Vie dans la Vieillesse ; which, for grace of style, justness and purity of sentiment, does honour 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, * Voltaire, upon slight evidence, had imputed to him, at an earlier period, sentiments of irreligion similar to his own s Auprfes d'eux le vif Hamilton, Toujours arme d'un trait qui blesse, M6disait de ITiumaine espece, Et meme d'un peu mieuz, dit-on. But whether Voltaire had an^ better foundation for insinuating this XX BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF to have turned his mind, in old age, entirely to those objects of sacred regard, which, sooner or later, must engage the atten- tion of every rational mind. To poetry he bids an eternal adieu, in language which breathes no diminution of genius, at the moment that he for ever recedes from the poetical character. But he aspired to a better. The following lines are interesting, for they evidently allude to his own situation ; and may every one, who, from a well-directed, or mistalien, but pure and generous zeal, is, through the course of a long life, assailed by the temptations of poverty, find that con- solation in an innocence of manners, which Hamilton so well invoked, and, it is to be hoped, not altogether in vain : •' Fille du ciel, pure Innocence ! Asile contre tous nos maux, Vrai centre du parfait repoa ! Eeureux celui, dont la Constance, Vous conserrant dans I'abondance, Ne vous perd point, dans les travaux lyune longue et triste indigence !" Whatever were Hamilton's errors, his general character 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. Un- questionably, he had not the unequalled vivacity of the Count de Grammont in conversation ; as Grammont was, on the other hand, inferior, in all respects, to Hamilton when the pen was in his hand ; the latter was, however, though reserved in a large society, particularly agreeable in a more 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 lEamilton, in his latter years, sincerely followed the Christian religion. ANTHONY HAMILTON. xxi 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 liis brother wits and contemporaries. But, while we admit the truth of this, let it be remembered, at the same time, that when he wrote tliis, 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 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-suf&cient, and very exigeante, might not always have found that general superiority, or even transient lustre, which she expected in Hamilton's society : yet, considering the great difference of their age and situation, this circamstance will not greatly impeach his talents for conversation. But the work of real genius must for ever remain ; and of Hamilton's genius, the Grammont Memoirs wiU always continue a beauteous and graceful monument. To that monument may also bo added, the candour, integrity, and unassuming virtues of the amiable author. EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAM MONT, BY ANTHONY HAMILTON, IN HIS OWN AND HIS BROTHER'S NAME.* Oh ! thou, the glory of the shore. Where Corisanda t 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 , Thou, who of mighty monarchs' court So long hast shone unerring star, TJnmatch'd in earnest or in sport. In love, in frolic, and in war ! To you, sir, this invocation must needs be addressed ; for * It is dated from Grammont's villa of Semeat, upon the banks of tha GaronBe, where it would seem Philibert and Anthony Hamilton were then residing. + Coriaande and Menadaure were both ancestresses of the Count de Grammont, and celebrated for beauty. EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxiii whom else could it siiit ? 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 Lerida, Don Brice,* And Barcelona's lady nice. Donna Eagueza, 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 unequalled, and more marveUouS than ever. Oux country neighbours, great news- mongers, apprized by their correspondents 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. 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 * Don Brice is celebrated in the Memoirs, but Donna Eagueza does not appear there. d \ \ xxiv EPISTLE TO THE found elsewhere, and whicli yet must be attributes of those fit to make you their 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 remaik- aole particulars of your life which our memory 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 JFather MassiUon or De La Eue. But we con- sidered that the first of these expedients did not suit your rank, and that, as to the second, it would be against aU form to swathe you up while alive in the tropes of a funeral sermon. The celebrated 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 purpose. * I presume, when he was educated for the church. COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxv Sovereign of wit, lie sits alone, And joys him in his glory -won; Or jf, in history to live. The first of monarchs' feats he give, Attentive Phoebus gtiides his hand. And Memory's daughters round Tiirn stand 5 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 fuU length in that miscellany which lately gave ua such an excellent letter of the illustrious 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 Louvre's road. The of&ce 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 hit. From thence each month, in gallant quire, Flit sonneteers in tuneful sallies. All tender heroes of their allies. By verse familiar who aspire xxvi EPISTLE TO THE To seize the honour'd name of poet. Some scream, on mistuned pipes and wliistles, Pastorals and amorous epistles ; Some, tjyining worthless wreath, bestow it On hards and warriors of their own. In camp and chronicle unknown. Here, never rare, though ever new, Eiddle, 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. Shewing their features, rank, and line, And all their arms, and whence they had 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 assistance two persons whom we have not the honour to know, but son>e 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. ! thou of whom the easy strain Enchanted by its happy sway. COUNT DE GRAMMONT xxvii Sometimes the margin of the Seine, Sometimes the fair and fertile plain^ Where winds the Maiae her lingering way ; Whether the light and classic lay- Lie at the feet of fair Climine ; Or if. La Fare, thou rather choose The mood of the theatric muse. And raise again, the stage to tread, Eenowned Greeks and Eomans dead ; Attend ! — And thou, too, lend thine aid, Chaulieu ! on whom, ia 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 labours 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 anything falling under her department. This reflection embarrassed us ; and we were meditating what turn should be given to the passage, when behold 1 there appeared at once, in the midst of the room, a form that surprised without alarming lis : — it was that of your philosopher, the iuLmitable St. Evxemond.* 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 residing in London, maintained the closest intimacy. St. Evremond waa de- lighted 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 himself. xxviii EPISTLE TO THE The sky was clear and still o'erhead, No earthquake shook the regions under, ITo subterraneous murmur dread. And not a single clap of thunder. He was not clothed in rags, or tatter'd. Like that same grim and grisly spectre, "Who, ere Philippi's contest clatter'd, The dauntless Brutus came to hector: Kor was he clad like ghost of Laius, 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, Like 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 tiU 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 grey hair, covered with the leathern cap described in the text. COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxix Still boasting of the name of Sage, He drowned, in floods of generous wine. The diilness and the frost of age. And daily paid the homage due, To charms that seem'd for ever new. As he arrived unannounced, he placed himseK between us without ceremony, but could not forbear s milin g at the respect with which we withdrew our chairs, under pretence of not crowding him. I had always heard that it was necessary to question folks of the other world, in order to engage them in conversation; but hesdon showed us the contrary; for, casting his eyes on the paper which we had left on the table, — " I approve," 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 Eebels, 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, Eich in the charms of sound and sense. Throws all his eloquence away. And vaTints, the live-long lingering day. The languid bliss of indolence. " Give up thoughts of them, if you please ; for though you XXX EPISTLE TO THE have invoked them, they won't come the sooner to your succour : 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 altogether so interest- ing in the present day. Make some short and light observa- tions 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 ia seeking ornaments, or turns of eloquence, to paint his character : that would resemble strained panegyric; and a faithful portraitwill be his best praise. Take care how you attempt to report his stories, or hons Tnots : The subject is too great for you.f Try only, in relating his • The Count de Grammont, in hia 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 hia lively manner, that he had formed a resolution never to die. This declaration is the subject of much raUlery through the whole epistle. t Bussi-Eabutin assures us, that much of the merit of Grammont's hons mots consisted in his peculiar mode of delivering them, although his COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxxi adventures, to coloui over his failings, and give relief to his merits. 'Twas thus, by easy route of yore. My hero to the skies I bore* 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 Iric-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 gaUery, 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 favour 1" * 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 Conde's every da,nger, May envy from the bravest claim. Wouldst know his art in courtly life ? It match'd his courage in the strife. "Wouldst ask his merit with the fair 1 — Who ever liv'd his equal there ? TTia wit to scandal never stooping His mirth ne'er to buffoon'ry drooping : Keeping his character's marked plan, Ab spouse, sire, gallant, and old man. But went he to confession duly ? At matins, mass, and vespers steady ? Fervent in prayer 1 — to tell you truly, He left these cares to my good lady. xxxii EPISTLE TO THE For your part, sketch how beauties tender. Did to his vows in crowds surrender : Sliow him forth-follcrwing 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, mthout fawning, like his neighbours, His prompt address foil'd all their labours. Canvas and colours change gnce more. And paint him forth in various light : The scourge of coxcomb and of bore ; Live record of lampoons in score. And chronicle of love and fight ; Eedoubted for his plots so rare. By every happy swain and fair ; Driver of rivals to despair ; Sworn enemy to all long speeches ; Lively and brilliant, frank and free j Author of many a repartee : Eemember, 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* "We may once more see a Tiirenne ; Conde 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 m ounted on a white horsp. COUNT DE GRAMMONT. Tell, too, by what enchanting art. Or of the head, or of the heart. If skill or coiirage 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.* SpeaJc all these feats, and simply speak — To soar too high were forward freak — To keep Parnassus' skirts discreetest ; JFor '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 j Avoid poetical excess. And shun low miserable prosing : 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 Eabelais, Or Eonsard's sonnets, to excel in. • Grammont is supposed to have had no small share in determining the Duke of Buckingham, then Charles the Second's favourite minister, to break the triple alliance ; for which purp • he ■went 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. xxxi7 EPISTLE TO THE Vrith half a dozen ekes and ayes, Or soma such antiquated phrase. At small expense you'U lightly hit On this new strain of ancient wit. We asstired 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 difficult to follow. " Once for all," said he, " do your best ; follcs 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 you are about will not increase the public curiosity on your own account. I must end 'my visit," he continued, "and by my parting wishes convince my hero that I continue to in- terest 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 ; * StUl prematurely, as before, That all the doctors give him o'er, And king and court are weeping for Mm. 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 : * De Grammont having falling seriously ill, at the age of seventy- eve, the king, who knew his free sentiments in religious 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, DanjS;eau will cheat you of my conversion. COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxxv Live long as Grammont's age, and longer. Than learn his art still to grow younger. Here ceaa'd tte 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 glided 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. 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 forc'd to Erebus to troop. There shall you find the joyous group. Carousing on the Stygian border ! Waiting, with hoUo and with whoop. To dub you brother of their order : There shall you find Dan Benserade, Doughty ChapeUe 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. xxxvi EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 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 ! Tliink of us then, pray, sir, if, by chance, you should take a fancy to revisit your fair mansion of Semeat. In the mean while, permit us to finish this long letter ; we have endeavoured 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 con- jured up to our assistance were actually among the living. But, alas ! No more shall Evremond incite us. That chronicler whom none sm'passes. Whether his grave or gay delight us ; That favourite of divine Parnassus Can find no ford in dark Cocytus : From that sad rivers's fatal bourne. Alone De Grammont can return. CHAPTER FIRST. INTRODUCTION. ,^^S those who read only for aimisement are, in my opinion, more worthy of attention than those who open a book merely to find feult, to the ^ former I address myself, and for their enter- tainment 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 dis- position of the facts, which give more trouble to the writer than pleasure 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 illustrate and distinguish his character shall find a place in 2 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. these fragments just as they present themselves to my ima- gination, without paying any particular attention to their arrangenlent. Tor, after all, what does it signify 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 passages of literature, which frequently have no reference to the subject ; for instance, he tells us that Demetrius Poliorcetes was far from being so taU as his father, Antigonus ; and afterwai-ds, 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 comparison between him and the unfortunate Mark Antony. "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 extraordinary than any of those he has transmitted to us. It is my part to describe a man whose inimitable character casts a veil over those faults which I shall neither palliate nor disguise ; a man distinguished by a mixture of virtues and vices so closely linked together as in appearance 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, 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT 3 wit, dispensed liis generosity and magnificence, or practised his inconstancy: it is owing to tliis that the sallies of a sprightly imagination have produced those admirable hons- mots which have been with universal applause transmitted to posterity. It is owing to this that he preserved his judgment free and unemhan-assed in the most trying situations, and en- joyed an uncommon presence of mind and facetiousness of temper in the most imminent dangers of war. I shall not at- tempt to draw his portrait : his person has been described by Bussi and St. Evremond,* authors more entertaining than faith- ful. 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 colours to express the genius and describe the general manners of the Count ; whilst both, in their different •Voltaire, in the age of Louis XTV., ch. 24, speaking of that monarch, 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 ia which the king was treated with too much freedom, and which, upon this occasion, was brought to remem- braace to ruia Bussi, the reputed author of it. Que Deodatus eat heureux, De baiser ce bee amoureux, Qui d'une oreiUe a I'autre va ! See Deodatus with his biUing dear, Whose amorous mouth breathes love from ear to ear I " 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 liimself enemies." Toltaire adds, " Bussi was released at the end of eighteen months ; but he was in disgrace all the rest of his life, in vain protesting a regard for Louis XIV." Bussi died 1693, Of St, Kvromoml, see note, postea. 4 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. pictures, have done greater honour to tnemselves than justice to their hero. .It is, therefore, to the Count we must Msten, 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 Mfe, 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. CHAPTEE SECOND. AERIVAL OP THE CHEVALIER GEAMMONT AT THE SIEGE OF TEIBTO, AND THE LIFE HE LED THEEE. N those days affairs were not managed in France as at present Louis XIII.* then sat upon the throne, but the Cardinal de Eichelieu f governed the kingdom ; great men commanded little armies, and little armies did great things ; the fortune of great men depended solely upon ministerial favour, and * 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 : — " Undaunted and implicable, piudent 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, acquired, by means of his administration, learning, order, discipline, and renown." 8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. blind devotion to the will of the minister was the only sure method of advancement. Vast designs were then laying in the heart of neighbouring states the foundation of that for- midable greatness to which France has now risen : the police was somewhat neglected ; the highways were impassable by day, and the streets by night ; but robberies were committed elsewhere with greater 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 abb6: I mean a beneficed abb6 : 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 favourably prepossess, and require neither friends nor recommendations in any company to pro- cure a favourable 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 reconnoitre the generals, having no oc- casion to reconnoitre the place. Prince Thomas-f- commanded the army; and as the post of lieutenant-general was not then known, Du Plessis Pralin j and the famous Viscount * Trino was taten 4th May, 1639. t Of Savoy, uncle of the reigning duke. He died 1656. t Afterwards Marechal and Duke de Choiaeul. He retired from the army in 1672. Monsieur H6nault, in his History of France, under that year, says, " Le MarSchal du Plessis ne fit pas cette campague a cause de son grand age; il dit au roi, qu'il ■ portoit eu vie k ses euf ans, qui avoient I'honneur de servir sa majeste, que pour lui il souhaitoit la luort, puisqu'U n'etoit plus bou- k rien : le roi I'embrassa, et lui dit : ' M. le Marechal, on ne travaille que pour approcher de la reputation qtie vous avez acquise : il est agrSable de se reposer apres tants de Jiic- ioires.'" MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 9 Tuveime* were his majors general. Fortified places wero treated witli some respect, before a power which nothing can witlistand had found means to destroy them by dreadful showers of bombs, and by destructive batteries of hundreds 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 * This great general was killed July 27, 1675, by a cannon-shot, near the village of Salzbach, in going to choose a pla^e 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 off the arm of St. TTilaire, lieutenant-general of the artUlery, 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 compared with the most heroic sayings recorded in all history, and are the best eulogy that can be bestowed upon Turenne. It is uncommon, under a despotic government, where people are actuated only by their private interests, for those who have served their country to die regretted by the public. Nevertheless, Tureime was lamented both by the soldiers and people ; and Louvois was the only one who rejoiced at his death. The honours 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 dn Guesclin, above whom he was eleva- ted 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 Toltaire 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 Tureune. Monsieur de Boze had twice sent to Turenne, to beg tiim to come to the place where the battery was to be erected, which Turenne, as if by presentiment, declined. Count Hamilton brought the thiid anxious request from De Boze ; and in riding to the place where he was, Turenne received his death-blow. The horse of Montocuculi, the opposite general, was, in the course of the same day, killed by a cannon-shot. 10 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. sustained, signalized both the art of the hesiegers 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 Tcino ; a great deal of fatigue was en- dured, and considerable losses sustained ; but fatigue was no 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 Gram- mont. 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 endeavoured 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 *Matta, or Matha, of ^vhom Hamilton has drawn bo striking a picture, is said to have been of the house of Bourdeille, which had the honour to produce Brantome and Montreaor. The combination of indolence and talent, of wit and simplicity, of bluntnes3 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 Hamiltou. 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 feature. " At the side- board, Madi^me," answered Matta. 'Wlien the same lady, in despair at her brother's death, refused all nourishment, 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 '' liladame Caylus, in lier Sozivenirs, commemorates the simple and natural humour of Matta as rendering him the most delightful society in the world. Mademoiselle, in her Memoirs, alludes to his pleasantry iu conversation, and turn for deep gaming. When the Memoira of Grammont were subjected to the examination of Fontenelle, then censor of the Parisian MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. n the natural turn of his wit ; he was plain and simple in his manners, but endued with a quick discernment and refined delicacy, and full of candour 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 talce up his quarters with him ; to which he only consented on condition 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 entertainments that had ever yet been seen. Play was wonderfully productive at first, and the Chevalier restored by a hundred different ways that which he obtained only by one. The generals, being en- tertained by turns, admired their magnificence, and were dis- satisfied 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 generally acknowledged, that it was a kind of dis- grace not to submit to his taste. To him Matta resigned the care of furnishing the table and doing its honours ; and, charmed with the general applause, persuaded himself that nothing could be more honourable than their way of living. press, he refused to license them, oi •icco. ut of the scandalous conduct imputed to Grammont in this parv/ at quinze. The count no sooner heai'd of this than he hastened to Fontenelle, and having joked him for being more tender of his reputation than he was himself, the license was instantly issued. The censor might have retofted upon Grammont the answer which the count made to a widow who received coldlj bis compliments of condolence on her husband's death : " Nay, madame, if that is the way you take it, I care as little about it as you do." He died in 1674. " Matta est raort sans confession," says Madame Main- tenon, in a letter to her brother. Tome I., p. 67. 12 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. and nothing more easy than to continue it; but he soon per- ceived that the greatest prosperity is not the most lasting. Good living, bad economy, dishonest servants, and ill-luck, all Tiniting together to disconcert their housekeeping, their table was going to be gi'aduaUy laid aside, when the Cheva- lier's genius, fertile in resources, undertook to support his former credit by the following expedient. Tliey had never yet conferred about the state of their 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 contem- plation he seemed involved in, and the profound silence be- tween two persons 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 meriy 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 maltre-dTifitel, our cook, and our confec- tioner, having resolved, for the remainder of the campaign, to live upon others as others have lived upon us : this was my dream. Now tell me. Chevalier, on what were you musing ?" " Poor fellow I" said the Chevalier, shrugging up his shoulders, " you are knocked down at once, and thrown into the utmost consternation and despair at some siUy stories which the maitre-d'hotel has been telling you as well as me. What ' MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 13 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 fii-st failure of our money ! Have you no sentiments of honour? 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 prosperity." " I own all this," said the Chevalier, " but yet I 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 wUl tell you the story." CHAPTER THIED. EDUCATION AND ADVENTURES OF THE CHEVALIER GRAM- MONT BEFORE HIS COMING TO THE SIEGE OF TRINO. 5|HIS," said Matta, " smells strongly of romaucc, except that it should have been your squire's part to tell your adventures." " True," said the Chevalier ; " however, I may acquaint you with my first exploits without offending 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 further 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 respect? to Cardinal Eichelieu : I have often laughed at it. However, you may pass over the unlucky pranks of your infancy, your genealogy^ name and quality of your ancestors, for tliat is a subject with which you must be utterly unacquainted." 17 18 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ^"Pooh !" said the Chevalier; "you think that all the •world is as ignorant as yourself ; — you think that I am a stranger to the Jlendores and the Corisandes. So, perhaps 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 all means have acknowledged him for his son, but the traitor would never consent to it. See what the Grammonts would have been now, but for this cross- grained fellow ! They would have had precedence of the Csesars 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, with the intention of being brought up to the church ; but as I had quite different views, I made no manner of improvement : gaming was so much in my head, that both my tutor and the master lost their labour in endeavouring 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 having 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, let 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 cha- racter of an Abb6. You know what kind of dress was then the MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ,9 fashion. All that they could obtain of me was to put a cas- sock 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 pow- dered, 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 um- brage ; 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 admiration, and your parti-coloured 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 possess 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 fructus 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 regard to the conveniences of life ; but, as a man ought to secure his future state in preference to all other considerations, I am re- solved to renounce the church for the salvation 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 France, 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 felloVa education, and makes him a gentleman, viz. all sorts of games, both at cards and dice ; but the truth is, I thought, at first. 20 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 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 clergy- man I should have been a saint ; but now she was certain that I shoidd 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 returned 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 favourite, and finding me inflexible, she only thought of keeping me with her as long as she could, while my little ec[uipage was preparing. The faithful Brinon, who was to attend me as valet-de-chambre, 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 behaviour and morality, and promised 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 neigh- bour as myself, she suffered me to depart, under the protection of the Lord and the sage Brinon. At the second stage we quarrelled. He had received four hundred louis d'or for the expenses of the campaign : I wished to have the keeping of * A principality belonging to the family of the Grammonts, in the province of Gascony. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 21 them myself, wliiRh lie strenuously opposed. 'Thou old scoun- drel,' said I, 'is the money thine, or was it given thee for me ? You suppose r must have a treasurer, and receive no money without liis order. I know not whether it was from a pre- sentiment of what afterwards happened that he grew melan- choly ; however, it was with the gi-eatest 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 conti'ary, 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 hun- dred louis. He went on so heavily, that I was forced to whip his horse myself, and turning to me, now and then, ' All ! sir, said he, my lady did not think it would be so.' His reflec- tions 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 Lyons,' two soldiers stopped us at the gate of the city, to caiTy us before the governor. I took one of them to conduct me to the best inn, and delivered Brinon into the hands of the other, to acquaint the commandant with the particulars of my journey, and my futm^e intentions. " There are as good taverns at Lyons 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 poisoner 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 wliich the soldier had boasted of 22 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. " Briiion, who was quite out of temper at the many questions wliich the governor had asked him, returned more suiiy thau an old ape ; and seeing that I was dressing my hair, in order to go downstairs : ' What are you about now, sii- ?' said he. ' Are you going to tramp about the town ? Xo, 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 shaU neither tramp about the town, nor eat alone, nor go to bed early. 1 intend to sup with the company below.' ' At the ordinary !' cried he ; ' I beseech you, sir, do not think of it ! Devil take me, if there be not a dozen brawling fellows play- ing at cards and dice, who make noise enough to di-own the loudest thunder !' " I was groAvn 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 lilce a blocklicad to set up for a reasoner ? Do you go to supper, if you please ; but take care that I have post-horses ready before daybreak.' The mo- ment he mentioned cards and dice, I felt the money burn 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, as- sured me that there were but eighteen or twenty of those gentlemen who would have the honour to sup with me. I ap- proached one of the tables where they were playing, and thought I should have died with laughing : I expected 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 descrip- tion. The fellow near whom I stood was short, tliick, and fat, and as round as a ball, with a ruff, and prodigious high- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 23 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 ; hut from the method he pursues, I think he will not dispose of many ; for he does nothing but play.* ' Does he play deep ?' said I. ' Not now,' said he ; ' they are only playing for their reckon- ing, while supper is getting ready ; but he has no objection to jilay as deep as any one.' ' Has he money V said I. ' As for that,' replied the treacherous Cerise, ' would to God you had won a thousand 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 survey ; never was such a bungler; he made blots upon blots ; God knows, I began to feel some remorse at winning of such an ignora- mus, who knew so little of the game. He lost his reckoning ; supper was served up ; and I desired hiin to sit next me. It was a long table, and there were at least five-and-twenty in company, notwithstanding the landlord's promise. The most execrable re23ast that ever was begun being finished, aU. the crowd iirsensibly dispersed, except the little Swiss, who still kept near me, and the landlord, who placed himself on the other side of me. They both smoked like dragoons ; and the Swiss was continually saying, in bad French, ' I ask your par- don, sir, for my gi'eat fi-eedom,' 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 tra- velled in Switzerland. " The little chub I had to encounter was full as inqiusitivc as e4 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. the ether. He desired to know wliether I came from the anny in Piedmont ; and having told him I was going thither, he asked lae, 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, I asked my companion if he would play for a single pistole 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 suffered 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 myseK 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 resolved 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 man- ner to disturb us. " The game being done, the little Swiss unbuttoned his pockets, to puU out a new four-pistole piece, and presenting it to me, he asked my pardon for his great freedom, and seemed MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 25 as if be 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 consented at last, and won back his money. I was piqued at it. I played another game ; fortune changed sides ; the dice Taa for him, he made no more blots. I lost the game ; anothier ^me, and double or quit ; we doubled 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 niy 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 re- fusal, and the politeness with which he took his leave, pro- voked 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 Biinon. 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 con- sequences of my adventure presented themselves to my imagi- nation. I could not sleep. I saw all the horrors of my mis- fortime, 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 wliip, which he held in his hand, ' Up, Monsieuav le Chevalier,' cried he, opening the curtains : ' tho 2 6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. horses are at the dooi, and you are still asleep. We otight 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 liking to the place. And for the great merchant, you have stripped him, I suppose ? No, no. Monsieur le Che- valier, tliis money will never do you any good. This wretch has, perhaps, a family ; and it is his children's bread that he has been playing with, and that you have won. Was this an object to sit up all ni^Lt for ? AVhat 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 misfortuucs. ' And how much have you won ? said he ; ' five hundred pis- toles ? what must the poor man do ? EecoUect, 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 hundi-ed 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 lamen- tations, the burden of which still was, ' What will my lady say V And, after having exhausted his unprofitable 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 no- thing,'' 'After this, being somewhat eased after making him my MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 2^ confession, 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 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 adventure. Play has hitherto favoured me ; for, since my arrival, I have had, at one time, after paying all my expenses, fifteen hundred louis d'or. Fortune is now again become unfavourable : we must mend her. Our cash runs low ; we must, therefore, en- deavour 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 tune is now come, and we cannot do better than to make use of it." " Your raillery would be very seasonable," said the Chevalier, " if you knew how to extricate us out of this difSciilty. 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 situ- ation we are reduced to. Mind what I say, I will go to- morrow to the head-quarters, I wiU dine with the Count de 28 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Cameran, and I will invite him to supper." " Where 1" 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 Cameran plays at quinze, and so do I ; we want money ; he has more than he knows what to do with ; I will bespeak a splendid supper, he shall pay for it. Send your maitre-d'h&tel to me, and trouble your- self no further, except in some precautions, which it is neces- sary to take on such an occasion." " What are they 1" 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 \mder 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 wiU have nothing to say to it." " Poor devil !" said the Chevalier, " the matter is this ; it is very likely ^hat we shall win his money. The Piedmontese, though otherwise good fellows, are apt to be suspicious and distrustful. He commands the horse ; you know you cannot hold 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 29 provoked at Ms 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 Gram- mont had planned it ; the unfortunate Cameran feU. into the snare. They supped in the most agreeable manner possible : Matta drank five or six bumpers to drown a few scruples which made him somewhat uneasy. The Chevalier de Gram- mont 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 ambus- cade, and the Chevalier de Grammont engaged his man. The perfidy of Cerise, and the high-crowned hat, were stiU 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, unwilling to be a spectator of violated hos- pitality, sat down in an easy chair, in order to fall asleep, while the Chevalier 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 30 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. staked liigla, 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, .1 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. AU 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 1" said Matta, starting out of his sleep. " AU your stormhag is in vain ; as long as you play you wiU lose. Believe me, the shortest follies are the best. Leave off, for the devil take me if it is possible for you to win." " Why ?" said Cameran, who began to be impatient. " Do you 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 gamester, 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, as to himself, it did not give him the smallest -uneasiness. The Chevalier de Grammont gave the Count far better MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 31 treatment than lie himself had experienced from the Swiss at Lyons ; for he played upon credit as long as he pleased ; which Cameran took so kindly, that he lost fifteen hundred pistoles, and paid them the next morning. As for Matta, he was se- verely reprimanded for the intemperance of his tongue. All the reason he gave for his conduct was, that he made it a point of conscience not td 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 mischief. This adventure having recruited their finances, fortune favoured them the remainder of the campaign, and the Che- valier de Grammont, to prove that he had only seized upon the Count's effects by way of reprisal, and to indemnify him- self 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 occasions. He found out the dis- tressed, in order to relieve them ; ofBcers 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 favour exceeded even the favour itself. Every man possessed of such amiable qualities must meet with success in ail his undertakings. The soldiers knew his person, and adored him. The generals were sure to meet him in every scene of action, and sought his company at other times. As soon as fortune declared for him, his first care was to make restitution, by desiring Cameran to go his halves in aU parties where the odds were in his favour. An inexhaustible fund of vivacity and good humour gave a certain aii' of novelty to whatever he either said or did. I know not on what occasion it was that Monsieur de Turenne, 32 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. towards the end of the siege, coimnanded a separate hody. The Chevalier de Grammont went to visit him at his new quarters, where he found fifteen or twenty officers. M. de Turenne was naturally fond of merriment, and the Chevalier's presence was sure to inspire it. He was much pleased with this visit, and, by way of acknowledgment, would have en- gaged him to play. The Chevalier de Grammont, in returning liim 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. " Ti'uly," said Monsieur de Turenne, " you wiU 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 si:x;teen horses, by way of joke ; but, seeing some countenances 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 BatteviUe,* who * This officer appears to have been the same person who was after- wards ambassador from Spain to the court of Great Britain, -where, in MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 33 had defended it valiantly, and for a long time, obtained a capitulation worthy of such a resistance. I do 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 inti'epidity 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. the summer of 1660, he offencled the French court, by claiming prece- dence of their ambassador. Count d'Estrades, on the public entry of the Swedish ambassador into Loudon. On this oceasion the court of France compelled ita rival of Spain to submit to the mortifying circum- stance of acknowledging the French iuperiority. To commemorate this important victory, Louis XIV. caused a medal to be struck, repre- senting the Spanish ambassador, the Marquis de Fueute, making the de- claration to that king, "No concurrer con loa ambassadores des de Francia," with this inscription, " Jus prsecedendi assertvim," and UKder it, "Hispaniorum excusatio coram xxxlegatis 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 Jiiogra2ihii it?" said the Chevalier de Grammont, " it is because you your- self are far more unaccountable than aU their customs ; you caimot 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 spon after ; was not this sufficient to make her Eoyal Highness 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 to- wards you in putting you under arrest, since it is only on your accoimt that she interests herself in the affair.^ I shall take a walk to the palace, where I will endeavour to Txnravel this mystery ; in the mean time, as there is but little proba- bility that the matter should be settled this evening, you would do well to order supper ; for I shall come back to you immediately." Matta charged him not to fail to express to her Eoyal High- ness the grateful sense he had of her favour, though in truth he as little feared the Marquis as he loved him ; and it is im- possible to express the degree of his fortitude in stronger terms. The Chevalier de Grammont returned in about half an hour, with two or three gentlemen whom Matta had got acquainted with at the chase, and who, upon the report of the quarrel, waited upon him, and each offered him separately his services against the unassisted and pacific Marquis. Matta having re- 64 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. turned them his thants, insisted upon their staying supper, and put on his robe de chambre. As soon as the Chevalier de Grammont perceived that every thing 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 company, and making use of a false confidence in order to disguise a real treachery, he acquainted him, after having 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 there- fore 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 promised he woidd 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 congratulating him upon the happy posture of his affairs, he sent him away with all the expedition and secrecy imaginable ; 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. He put him- self into the best humour imaginable in order to divert the attention of his guests ; he severely satirised those, whose rage for gaming induced them to sacrifice to it every other consi- deration ; he loudly ridiculed the foUy of the Chevalier upon this article, and secretly laughed at the credulity of the Pied- montese, whom he had deceived with so much ingenuity. It was late at night before the company broke up, and Malta went to bed, very well satisfied with what he had done MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 65 for liis 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 enhance the value of the favour she bestowed ; her charms were far from being neg- lected ; and if there are any circumstances in which we may detest the traitor while we profit by the treason, this was not one of them ; and however successful the Chevalier de Gram- mont was in his intrigues, it was not owing to him that the contrary was not believed ; but, be that as it may, being con- vinced that in love whatever is gained by address is gained fairly, it does not appear that he ever showed the smallest degree 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. CHAPTEE FIFTH. HE KETURN-S TO THE COURT OF FRANCE. — HIS ADVENTURES AT THE SIEGE OE ARRAS. — HIS REPLY TO CARDINAL MAZABIN. — HE IS BANISHED THE COURT. HE Chevalier de Grammont, upon his returu to France, sustained, with the greatest success, the reputation 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 dexterity in the latter. 69 70 " MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Zealously attached to the Prince de Cond^ * from inclina- tion, 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 Lens, Norlinguen, and Fribourg; and the details ho 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 withdrawn from the paths of recti- tude : 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 " Louis of Bourbon, Duke d'Engliien, afterwards, by the death of his father in 1656, Prince de Cond^. Of this great man Cardinal de Eetz 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 devoted and enslaved to the court, has kept the first within too straight 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 leam 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 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 weU as he ought ; and that having likewise having all th6 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 Lis 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 OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 71 inviolable attachment so little merited. Therefore, without fearing any reproach for a conduct which sufficiently justified itself, as he had formerly deviated from his duty by entering into the service of the Prince de Cond^, 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 culpable than himself, were immediately received into favour, when they desired it ; for the queen,* still terrified at the dangers into which the civil wars had plunged the State at the commencement of her regency, endeavoured by lenient measures to conciliate the minds of the people. The policy of the minister f was neither sanguinary nor revengeful: his * Anne of Austria, daughter of Philip III. of Spain, widow of Louis XIII., to whom she was married in 1616, and mother of Louis XTV. 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 reality ; more regard to money than liberality ; more of liberality than of self-interest ; more of self-interest than dis- interestedness : she was more tied to persons by habit than by afieo- tion; she had more of insensibility than of cruelty y 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 firm- ness ; and more incapacity than of all the rest which I mentioned before." Memoirs, 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 MeUleray, who married his niece, and took the title of Duke of Maza- rin. On his death, Louis XTV. and the court appeared in mourning, an honour not common, though Henry IV. had shewn it to the memory of GabrieUe d'Estre^s. 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 combatingthe opinion, which supposes prodigious abilities, and a genius almost divine, 72 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. favourite maxim was rather to appease the minds of the dis- contented 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 minority to the greatest possible extent. His avidity to heap up riches was not alone confined to the thousand different means, with which he was furnished 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 accord- ing to his wishes, and soon became one of his set. The Cheva- lier soon perceived the artfulness and dishonesty of the Car- dinal, 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 oppor- tunity offeredr 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 endeavour to transcribe these entertaining anecdotes : their spirit seems to in those who have governed empires with some degree of success. It is not a superior penetration that makes statesmen ; it is their charac- ter. 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, Buckingham, Eichelieu, or Mazarin ; but our conduct and our enterprises depend absolutely on our natural dispositions, and our success depends upon fortune," Age of Louis XI v.. chap. 5, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 73 evaporate upon paper ; and in whatever light they are exposed the delicacy of their colouring and their beauty is lost. It is, then, enoagh to say, that upon aU occasions where ad- dress was reciprocally employed, the Chevalier gained the advantage ; and that if he paid his court badly to the minis- ter, he had the consolation to find, that those who suffered themselves to be cheated, in the end gained no great advan- tage from their complaisance ; for they always continued iu an abject submission, while the Chevalier de Grammont, on a thousand different occasions, never pirt 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 then* army of which they were in great need ; as the French, for a considerable time past, had evinced a superiority 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 abili- ties were of no avail. The Spanish infantry had never re- covered itself since the battle of Eocroy jj and he who had ruined them by that victory, by fighting against them, was the only man who now, by commanding their aimy, was capable of repairing the mischief he had done them. But the jealousy * Leopold, brother of the Emperor Ferdinand the III. t A little but strong town, standing among marshes on the river Somme, in Picardy. X This famous battle was fought and won 19th May, 1643, five days after the death of Louis XIIL 74 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. of the generals, and the distrust attendant upon their counsels, tied up his hands. Nevertheless, the siege of Arras* was vigorously carried on. The Cardinal was very sensible how dishonourable 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 hazard- ous to attempt its relief, the Prince de Conde 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 misfortune to be dreaded. The Cardinal, whose genius was happily adapted to such junctures, where deceitful negotiations could extricate 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 * Voltaire observes, that it was the fortune of Turenne and Condfe 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 their lines : the troops of the .archduke were cut to pieces ; and Cond^, 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 Fert^, and retreated victoriously himself, by covering the retreat of the vanquished Spaniards. The king of Spain, in his letter to him after this engagement, had these words: " I have been informed that every- thing was lost, and that you have recovered everything." MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 75 to some otlier place, the capture of whicli might prove an in- demnification 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 Ms distress, and redoubled his apprehensions and alarms; but there was then no remedy. The Marshal, whose greal reputation had gained hiTn 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 success. 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 determined to be an eye-witness of it; a resolution which greatly sur- prised the court; for those who had seen as many actions as he had, seemed to be exempted from such eagerness; but it was in vain that his friends opposed his resolu- tions. 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 atten-. tion; yet he believed it sincere, because the keeping of it would cost Mm notMng. He set out in the dusk of the evening with Caseau, whom Monsieur de Turenne had sent express to their majesties, 76 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. The Duiie of York,* and the Marquis d'Huiiiiires,-f- com- manded under the Marshal : the latter was upon duty when the Chevalier arrived, it being scarce daylight. The Duke of York did not at first recollect him ; but the Marquis d'Hu- miferes, 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 wiU do no more than your duty ; if you are beaten, they mU think you fools and mad- men, 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 Tureime'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 honour to attend the Duke of York ; for, most likely, he is notin 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," *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, 12mo, 1673, tome i., pait 3, p. 365. i ■)■ Louis de Ore vans, Marechal 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 ragoftts and entremets served up to his table. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 77 Bald the Chevalier de Grammont, " to advance as far as the sentry -whieh is posted on that eminence : I have some friends and acquaintance in their army, whom I should wish to in- quire after: I hope the Duke of York will give me per- mission." At these words he advanced. The sentry, seeing him come forward directly to his post, stood upon his guard : the CJhevalier 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 advance 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 approach. He desired leave of this officer to inquire after 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 Cheva- lier. " Sir," said he, " if I were allowed to quit my post, I would do myself the honour of accompanying you thither ; but I will send to acquaint them, that the Chevalier de Gram- mont 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 honour to serve so long in his regiment 1" " 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 BruxeUes, when you taught the Duchess of Guise to dance the triolets : 78 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. and I am afraid your affairs are not in so flourislung a con- dition 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 Gram- mont was saluted by the whole company before he could say a word. Soon after arrived an immense number 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 eagerness ; so that the two armies, without design, without truce, and without fraud, were going to join in conversation, if, by chance. Monsieur de Turenne had not perceived it at a distance. The sight surprised him: he hastened that way ; and the Marquis d'Humiferes acquainted him with the arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont, who wished to speak to the sentry before he went to the head- quarters : he added, that he could not comprehend how the devil he had managed to assemble both armies around liim, 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 reasonable that he should let us now have a little of his company, since he has paid his first visit to the enemy." At these words he despatched an aide-de-camp, to recal the of&cers of his army, and to acquaint the Chevalier de Grammont with hia 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 Cond^, being informed of this peaceable interview, was not the least sur- prised at it, when he heard that it was occasioned by the arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont. He only gave Lussan orders to recal the officers, and to desire the Chevalier to meet him at the same place the next day; which the Chevalier MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 70 promised to do, provided Monsieur de Turenne should ap- prove of it, as he made no doubt he would. His reception in the king's army was equally agreeable as that which he had experienced from the enemy. Monsieur de Turenne esteemed him no less for his frankness 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 en- terprise which he had undertaken without consulting the Cardinal. Monsieur de Turenne promised biTn he would exert himself to the utmost to follow his advice, and assured him, that if he succeeded, he would make the queen keep her word with him ; and concluded with saying, that he was not sorry the Prince de Cond^ had expressed a desire to see him. His measures were taken for an attack upon the lines: on this subject he discoursed in private with the Chevalier de Grammont, and concealed nothing from hiTn except the time of execution : but this was all to no purpose ; for the Cheva- lier had seen too much, not to judge, from his own know- ledge, and the observations he had made, that from the situa- tion of the army, the attack could be no longer deferred. He set out the next day for his rendezvous, attended by a trumpet, and found the Prince at the place which Monsieur de Lussan 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 Chevalier de Grammont, and that I should see bitn in the contrary party ? " " It is you, my lord, whom I see there," replied the Chevalier, " and I refer 8o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. it to yoTirseK, whether it was the fault of the Chevalier de Grammont, or your own, that we now embrace different in- terests." " 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 honour, who thiaks himself in the right : but let us forget aU cause of resentment, and teU me what was your motive for coming here, you, whom I thought at Peronne with the court." " Must I teU you ?" said he : " why, faith then, I came to save your life. I know that you cannot help being in the midst of the enemy in a day of battle ; it is only necessary for your horss 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, 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, ^ough the being taken prisoner at that time could not have been so dangerous to me as now." From this conversation, they passed to more entertaining subjects. The Prince asked him many questions concerning the court, the ladies, play, and about his amours ; and return- ing insensibly to the present situation of affairs, the Chevalier having inquired after some of&cers 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 • 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. 81 consented, and the Prince having shown tiim all the works and attended him back to their rendezvous, " Well, Chevalier, said he, " when do you think we shall see you again 1" " 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." " Tou 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 aU 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 led me roimd the lines and en- trenchments, and showed me the preparations he had made for your reception." " And what is his opinion ?" said the Mar- shal. " He is persuaded that you will attack him to-night, or to-morrow by daybreak ; for you great captains," continued the Chevalier, " see through each other's designs in a wonder- ful manner." Monsieur de Turenne, with pleasure, received this commen- dation from a man who was not indiscriminately accustomed to bestow praise. He communicated to him the disposition of the attack j 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 advan- 82 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. tage to have the benefit of his advice, hut as he believed that the remaining part of the night ■would be hardly sufficient for his repose, after having passed the former without any re- freshment, 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 Condd, though van- quished, lost nothing of his former reputation. There are so many accounts of this celebrated battle, that to mention it here would be altogether superfluous. The Cheva- Uer de Grammont, who, as a volunteer, was permitted to go into every part, has given a better description 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 mat- ters, 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. AU 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 niany other obstacles to surmount. In the fijrst place, the parties of the enemy were dispersed over aU the country, and obstructed his passage. Then he had to prepare against greedy and officious courtiers, who, on such occasions, post themselves in aU the avenues, in order to cheat the poor courier out of his news. However, his address preserved him from the one, and deceived the others. He had taken eight or ten troopers, commanded by an MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 83 officer of his acquaintance, to escort him half way to Bapaume * being persuaded that the greatest danger would He between the camp and the first stage. He had not proceeded a league liefore he was conviaced of the truth of what he suspected, and turning to the officer who followed him closely, " K 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 Cheva- lier, "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 grazing their horses ?" " No," said the Chevalier ; "but I see very well that they are some of the enemy's troopers." 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 off full speed towards Bapaume. He was mounted upon a very swift English horse ; but hav- ing entangled himseK in a hollow way where the groimd was deep and miry, he soon had the troopers at his heels, who, sup- posing him to be some officer of rank, would not be deceived, but continued to pursue him without paying any attention tcf the others. The best mounted of the party began to draw near liim ; for the English horses, swift as the wind on even ground, proceeded but very indifferently in bad roads ; the trooper pre- sented his carbine, and cried out to him, at some distance> " Good quarter." The Chevalier de Grammont, who perceived * 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. 84 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. that they gained upon him, and that whatever efforta his horse made in such heavy ground, he must be overtaken at last, immediately quitted the road to Bapaume, and took a cause- way 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 think- ing that he only waited to surrender, immediately exerted every effort, that he might take him before the rest of his com- panions, who were following, could arrive, and by this means almost kUled 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 dis- puted, to be taken by a set of scoundrels who had not been in it, and, instead of being received in triumph, 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 biTn to lower his piece ; and per- ceiving his horse to be 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, as- suring him that no person had yet passed ; that he would keep the secret, and that he would retain all that followed him, ex- cept the couriers of Monsieur de Turenne. Jle now had only to guard against those who would be MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 85 watching for him about the environs of Peronne, to return as soon as they saw him, and carry his news to court, without being acquainted with any of the particulars. He knew very well that Marshal du Plessis, Marshal de Villeroy, and Ga- boury, had boasted of this to the Cardinal before his departure. Wherefore, to elude this snare, he hired two weU-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 in- tercepted by Gaboury, whose eagerness had outstripped the two marshals"; but w atever questions were asked them, they acted their parts so well, that Peronne was already in con- Btemation, and rumours 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 but their Ma- jesties received it with that transport of joy it deserved. The queen kept her promise to him in the most fascinating manner : she embraced him before the whole court ; the king appeared no less delighted ; but the Cardinal, whetiier 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 86 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. being afterwards infonned that the lines had been forced, that the Spanish army was beaten, and that Arras was relieved : " Is the Prince de Cond^ taken ?" said he. " No," replied the Chevalier de Granunont. " He is dead then, I suppose ?" said the Cardinal. "Not so, neither," answered the Chevalier. " Pine news indeed !" said the Cardinal, with an air of con- tempt ; and at these words he went into the queen's cabinet with their majesties. And happy it was for tlie 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 fiUed with the Cardinal's spies : the Cheva- lier, as is usual on such an occasion, was surrounded 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 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 obliging 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."-f° •This spirit seems not always to have attended him in his trans- actions with the Cardinal. On occasion of the entry of the king in 1660, " Le Chevalier de Grammont, Eouville, Bellefonds, and some other courtiers, attended in the cardinal's suite, a degree of flattery which astonished everybody who knew him. I was informed that the Cheva- lier wore a very rich orange-coloured dress on that occasion." Letfrea de Maintenon, tome i. p. 32. t Peter Mazarin was father to the CardinaL He was a native of Palermo in Sicily, which place he left in order to settle at Eome, where he died in the year 1654 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 87 This was sufficient to tenify all those who were sincereiy attached to him ; and the best established fortune would have been ruined at some period by a jest much less severe : for it was delivered in the presence of witnesses, who were only desirous of having an opportunity of representing it in its ut- most 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 detri- ment he foresaw might arise from it, he could not help being much pleased with what he had said. The spies very faitlifully discharged their duty : however, the affair took a very different turn from what they expected. The next day, when the Chevalier de Grammont 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 weU 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 sometliing to play for, over and above her first promise." In this manner did the Chevalier de Grammont dare to provoke a powerful minister, and tliis was aU the resentment 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 ministers 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 en- joyed the satisfaction of being the only man wlio durst pre- serve the least shadow of liberty, in a general state of servi- tude ; but it was perhaps owing to the Cardinal's passing over 88 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. this insult with impunity, that he afterwards drew upon him- self some difficulties, by other rash expressions less fortunate in the event. In the mean time the court returned : the Cardiaal, who was sensible that he could no longer keep his master in a state of tutelage, being himself worn out with cares and sick- ness, and having amassed treasures he knew not what to do with, and beiag sufficiently loaded with the weight of public odium, he turned aU his thoughts towards terminatiug, in a manner the most advantageous for France, a ministry which had so cruelly 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 esteemed by the courtiers, beloved by beauties whom he neglected, and a dangerous favourite of those whom he admired ; more succes- ful in play than ia his amom-s .; but the one indemnifjdng him for want of success in the other, he was always fuU of life and spirits ; and ia aU transactions of importance, always a man of honour. It is a pity that we must be forced here to interrupt the course of his history, by an iaterval of some years, as has been already done at the commencement of these memoirs. In a life where the most minute circumstances are always singular and diverting, we can meet with no chasm which does not afford regret ; but whether he did not think them worthy of holding a place among his other adventures, or that he has only preserved a confused idea of them, we must pass to the parts of these fragments which are better ascer- tained, that we may arrive at the subject of his journey to England. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 89 The peace of the Pyrenees* the king's marriage.t the return of the Prince de Cond6,| and the death of the Car- dinal, gave a new face to the state. The eyes of the whole nation were fixed upon their Mng, who, for nobleness of mien, and gracefdness 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 empire 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 miads 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 pradence, in some measure necessary, had so long obliged him to conceal. An application, inimical to the pleasures which generally attract that age, and which unlimited power very seldom refuses, attached him solely to the cares of government : aU admired this wonderful change, but all did not find their accoimt in it: the great lost their consequence before an absolute master, and the courtiers approached with reverential awe the sole object of their respects and the sole master of their fortunes : those who had conducted themselves like petty tyrants in their provinces, and on the frontiers, were now no more than governors : favours, according to the king's * This treaty was concluded 7th November, 1659. t Louis XIV. with Maria Theresa of Austria. She was bom 20th September, 1638, married 1st June, 1660, and entered Paris 26th August following. She died at Versailles 30th July, 1683, and was buried at St. Denis. tilth April — See De Ret^s Memoirs, vol. iiL p, 119. 90 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 attention to the affairs of state as a prodigy: he could not conceive how he could submit at his age to the rules he prescribed himseK, or that he should give up so many hours of pleasure, to devote them to the tiresome duties, and laborious fimctions of government ; but Tie blessed the Lord that henceforward no more homage was to be paid, no more court to be made, but to bim alone, to tdiom they were justly due. Dis- daining 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 Cardinal Eichelieu but an abbey, which, on account of his rank, could not be refused him; and he never acquired anjrthing from Mazarin but what he won of him at play. By many years' experience xmdep 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 himseK better than in endeavour- ing to gain the good opinion of his master, in making the best use of those advantages which nature had given him for play, khd in putting in practice new stratagems in love. ' He succeeded very well in the two first of these projects, 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 favour unless when it was supported by merit, to make himself beloved by the courtiers MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 91 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 iU -will of the courtiers. In play he was successful, in love unfortunate ; or, to speak more properly, his restlessness and jealousy overcame his natural prudence, in a situation wherein he had most occasion for it. La Motte Agencourt was one of the maids of honour to the queen dowager, and, though no sparkling beauty, she had drawn away lovers from the celebrated MenevQle.* 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 tender 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 * 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 teims : " 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 Agen- couit, that it was on his score, when I am assured, upon very good groimds, that it was for entertaining the Marquis de PJcheliexi against her majesty's express command. This lady, who was one of her maids of honour, 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 preterd to dispute it." Memoirs of the Comte de Kochforf, 1696, p. 210. See also Auquetil, IjOuis XYI. sa Conr et le Urgent, tome i. p. 4C. 92 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. that she was honoured with the king's attention, he was of opinion that she was likewise deserving of his. 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-treatment nor of her threats. This conduct of his at first made no great noise, because she was in hopes that he would change his behaviour ; but finding him rashly persist 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 findin" 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. CHAPTEK SIXTH. HIS ARRIVAL AT THE EN'GLISH COURT. — THE VARIOUS PER- SONAGES OJ THIS COURT. UEIOSITT to see a man equally famous for his crimes and his elevation, had once before in- duced the Chevalier de Grammont to visit England. Eeasons of state assume great privi- leges. Whatever appears advantageous is lawful, and every- thing that is necessary is honourable in politics. 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 95 96 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. sovereiga power by the greatest crimes, maintained himself 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 abroadj 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 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 profiigate man, and the admiration of some concealed beauties he had found means to discover. Affairs 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 engagements he in the end contracted in England lessened the regret he had in leaving France. This was a desii'able retreat for an exile of his disposition. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 97 Eveiything flattered his taste, and if the adventures he had in this country were not the most considerable, 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 11. 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 every- where ; but it was not until he had struggled with his ill- fortune to the last extremity 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 aU 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 indigent 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 appearances, he was to fiU as worthily as the most glorious of his predecessors. The magnificence displayed on this occasion was renewed at his coronation.* * 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, endeavoured to distinguish himself by his literary acquire- ments. A scarce little book, in Latin and Erench, upon the coronation, has been ascribed to him with some probability. The initials subscribed 98 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. in different plaeea of the work are P. D. C, which may correspond to Philibert de Oramont, in which manner the family name was often Bpelt ; and the dedication seems to apply accurately to the count's circumstances. The full title runs : — "Complementum Fortunatarum Insularum, sive Galathea Vaticinana; being part of an epithalamium upon the auspicious match of the most puissant and most serene Charles II., and the most illustrious Catharina, Infanta of Portugal ; with a description of the Fortunate Islands. Written originally in French, by P. D. C, Gent,,* and since translated by him into Latin and English, With the translations also of the Description of S, James's Park, and the late Fight at S, Lucar, by Mr. Edmund Waller ; the Panegyric of Charles the Second, by Mr. Dryden; and other pieces relating to the present times. London, printed by W. G., 1668. It is dedicated to James Boteler, Earl of Osaory, Viscount Thorle, afterwards Duke of Ormond, previous to bis going to Ireland,+ which dedication concludes thus ; " The utmost height of my ambition, and the utmost scope of my design at present, my lord, is only since I have no other means left me to provide for my attendance upon your lordship and the heads of your honourable family, in this your journey, that you will be pleased to accept of me, in this slender garb, being every way otherwise disappointed by the frowns of fortune, and so uaflt to pretend admittance in so splendid a train ; unless it be Nelle scorta.di Febo, ohe a vos s'inchina, Tutta ridente, tutta di scherzi plena. But, my lord, my own words on another occasion : ' Si, quelque jour, la Fortune Met en plus grande liberty Hon G^nie persecute Dee rigneurs de cette importune, — Feut-Stre d'un burin plus sure Et d'un vers rempli de douceur — D'Ormond j'entreorendrai I'image ; * Tae state of nis foiiune at this period not allowing the splendour of a French nobleman, be was only considered a private gentleman, and this be hints at in the dedication that follows. t Philibert, Count Grammout married the Duke of Ormond's sister. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 99 Et dans lea beaux exploits de toua ses d&cendana La d^peindrai si bien que la plus fi&re rage Respeotera ses traits jusqu'k la fin des temps. This is the vow, this is the serious ■wish of him, my lord, who desires, for no better end, to be once again restored to the state of his former fortune, than to become thereby more ready and capable to wait here- after on your lordship otherwise than by his pen, and so declare, by some more real deed than poetical expressions, how unfeignedly he is, My lord. Your lordship's Most true and most devoted servant, P. D. C. The contents of this book consist chiefly of poetry of a complimentary nature. The following well-known lines of "Waller's, on Westminster Abbey, he has given with much taste : — " From hence he does that antique pile behold, Where royal heads receive the sacred gold ; It gives them crowns, and does their ashes keep ; There made like gods, like mortals there they sleep." " Passant plus outre il voit la chapeUe oil nos roia Eecoivent Tor sacrfee, et leur gardant les loix ; La terre aussi saor^e ^galemeut leur donne La droit de s^pultuiie et la droit de couronne." The contents of the volume are : — A Song of the Sea Nymph Galatea, upon the marriage of Charles IL and the Princess Infanta of Portugal, (15 stanzas of ten lines each). The same in Latin. The same in French. St. James's Park, by Waller, in Engh'sh, French, and Latin. Of the late War with Spain, 1657, and our Victory at St. Lucar, near Cadiz, by the same, in English and French. On his sacred Majesty's Coronation, by Dryden, English and French. The Foi-tunate Islands, being part of a larger poem written formerly in French, upon the happy inauguration of Charles II. — By P. D. C; and since by him translated in English and Latin. Dedicated to hia dear friend Edmund Waller, Esq., with a specimen of an English version. Another dedication : " To Prince Bupert, as a monument of his 100 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. The death of the Duke of Gloucester,* and of the Princess devoted respects and due estbem of hia Highness's celebrated virtues and great experience in sea voyages ; and as a deserved acknowledgment of his Highness's indefatigable endeavours in promoting English planta- tions, P. D. C. humbly dedicates this Pindaric Rapture : being part of his poem of the Fortunate Islands, formerly written in French, and addressed to the King's Majesty upon the solemnity of his auspicious coronation." — 25 Stanzas of ten lines each. The same in Latin. The King's excursion on the Thames, July anno 1661 ; An extem- pore Ode, " To the great and illustrious William, Earl of Devonshire, the noble and judicious Maecenas of polite literature ; P. D. C dedi- cates it in obedient and grateful testimony," &C, A short Ode of about 60 lines. If we are correct in imputing this work to Grammont, he must have been in England at the time of the Coronation, which agrees tolerably with the vague expression in the text that he arrived about two yesira after the Eestoration. For this ceremony did not take place until after the deaths of the Duke of Gloucester and the Princess of Orange. It was celebrated 22d and 23d April, 1661, with uncommon magnificence; the whole show as Lord Clarendon observes, being the most glorious in the order and expence, that had ever been seen in England. The pro- cession began from the Tower, and continued so long, that they who rode first were in Fleet-street when the king issued from the Tower. The whole ceremonial took up two days. See Continuation of Claren- don, p. 29. Kenneths Register, 411. * This event took place September 3rd, 1660. He died of the small- pox. " Though mankind," as Mr. Macpherson observes, " are apt to 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 best qualities of both his brothers: the Tmderstanding and good-nature of Charles, to the industry and application of James. The facility of the first, was in him a judicious moderation. The obstinacy of the latter, was in Gloucester a manly firmness of mind. Attached to the religion, and a friend to the con- stitution 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 favourites, foresaw future misfortunes in his death ; and even the judicious supposed that the measures of Charles might have derived solidity from his judgment MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. loi Royal,* which followed soon after, had interrupted the course of this splendour by a tedious mourning, which they quitted at last to prepare for the reception of the Infanta of Portugalf and promising parts. The king lamented hiadeath. with all the vehe- mence of an affectionate sorrow." The Duke of York was much affected with the loss of a brother, whose high merit he much admired. 'He was a prince," aays James, " of the greatest hopes, undaunted courage, admirable parts, and a clear understanding." He had a par- ticular talent at languages. Besides the Latin, he was master of the French, the Spanish, the Italian, and Low Dutch. He was, in short, possessed of all the natural qualities, as well as acquired accomplish- ments, necessary to make a great prince. Macphersmis History of Great Britain, ch. 1. Bishop Burnefs character of this young prince is also very favoiu:able. See History of his Ovm Times, vol i. p. 238. • Mary, eldest daughter of Charles L, bom November 4th, 1631, married to the Prince of Orange, 2nd May, 1641, who died 27th October, 1650. She arrived in England, September 23rd, and died of the small- pox, December 24th, 1660, — according to Bishop Burnet, not much lamented. " She had lived," says the author, " in her widowhood for some years with great reputation, kept a decent court, and supported her brothers very liberally ; and lived within boiinds. 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. Li 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," Hiitory of his Own Times, voL i., p. 238. She was mother of William ni. t "The Infanta of Portugal landed in May (1662) at Portsmouth. The king went thither, and was married privately by Lord Aubigny, a secular priest, and almoner to the queen, according to the rites of Borne, in the queen's chamber ; none present but the Portuguese ambassador, three more Portuguese of quality, and two or three Portuguese women. \Vhat made this neceasary was, that the Earl of Sandwich did not marry hei" by proxy, as usual, before she came away. How this hap- 102 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. It was in the height of the rejoicings they were making for this new queen, in all the splendour of a brilliant court, that the Chevalier de Grammont arrived to contribute to its mag- nificence and diversions. Accustomed as he was to the grandeur of the court of France, he was surprised at the politeness and splendour of the court of England. The kiag was inferior to none,* either ia 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 thatVere not so : his heart was often the dupe, but oftener the slave, of his engagements. The character of the Duke of Yorkf was entirely different : pened, the duke knows not, nor did the chancellor know of this private ■ marriage. The queen would not be bedded, till pronounced man and wife by Sheldon, bishop of London." — Extract 2, from Eing James II. 's Journal. — Macphersori s State Papers, vol. i. In the same col- lection is a curious letter from the King to Lord Clarendon, giving his opinion of the queen after having seen her. * Charles IT. was bom 29th May, 1630, and died 6th February, 1684-5. His character is very amply detailed, and accurately depicted by George SaviUe, Marquis of Halifax, in a volume published by his granddau^iter, the Countess of Burlington, 8vo., 1750. See also Burnet, Clarendon, and SheflSeld, 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 ; abd^ted the crown in 1688; and died 6th September, 1701. Bishop Burnet's character of him appears not very far from the truth. — " He was," says this writer, " very brave ia his youth ; and so much magni- fied by Monsieur Turenne, that till his marriage lessened him, he really clouded the king, and passed for the superior genius. Ho was naturally candid and sincere, and a firm friend, till affairs and his religion wore out all his first principles and inclinations. He had a MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MO NT. 103 he had the reputation of undaunted courage, an inviolable attachment for his word, great economy in his affairs, hauteur, application, arrogance, each in their turn : a scrupulous ob- server 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 triiunphed, by his acknowledging for his wife Miss Hyde,* maid of honour to the Princess Eoyal, preat desire to understand affairs : and in order to that he kept a con- Btant journal of all that passed, of which he showed me a gi-eat deal. The Duke of Buckingham 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 deter- mined 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 wars rebels in their hearts. He was perpetually in one amour or other, without being very nice in his choice : upon which the king oncfe said, he believed his brother had his mistress 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 com- mons. He was for rougher methods. He continued many years dissembling his religion, and seemed zealous for the church of Eng- land, 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 100,000^. a-year allowed him. He was made high admiral, and he came to understand all the concerns of the sea very particularly." * 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 hex L 104 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ■whom he had secretly married in Holland. Her father,* from that time prime minister of England, supported by this new interest, soon rose to the head of affaii-s, and had almost ruined them : not that he wanted capacity, but he was too self-suf&cient. The Duke of Ormondf possessed the confidence and esteem carriage afterwards became her acquired dignity." Again. " When his sister, the princess royal, came to Paris to see the queen-mother, the Dlike of York fell in love with lira. Anne Hyde, one of her maids of honour. Besides her person, she had all the qualities proper to inflame a heart less apt to take fire than his ; which she managed so well 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 dis- suaded 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 Hiate Papers, vol. L * Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, " for his comprehensive know- ledge of mankind, styled the chancellor of human nature. His charac- ter, at this distance of time, may and ought to be impartially considered. Designing or blinded contemporaries heaped the most unjust abuse upon him. The subsequent age, when the pai-tisaus of prerogative were at least the loudest, if not the most numerous, smit with a work that defied their martyr, have been unbounded in their encomium." — Cata- logue 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 possessed 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 21st July, 1688. Lord Clarendon, in the Continuation of his Life, observes, that " he frankly engaged his person and hia 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 munlered, and ho deserted by the Irish, contrary to the artides of peace which they hiuJ MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 105 of his master : the greatness of his services, the splendour of his merit and his hirth, and the fortune he had ahandoned 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-Heutenant of Ireland. He exactly resembled the Mar- shal de Grammont, in the turn of his wit and the nobleness of his manners, and like him was the honour of his master's court. made with him, and when he could make no longer defence, he refused all the conditions which Cromwell oifered — 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 great ezpence ; decent even in his vices, for he always kept up the form of religion. He had gone through many transactions in Ireland with more fidelity than success. He had made a treaty with the Irish, which was broken by the great body of them, though some few of them 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 conduct. Yet his con- stant attendance on his master, his easiness to him, and his great suffer- ing for him, raised him to be lord-steward of the household, and lord- lieutenant of Ireland. He was firm to the Protestant religion, and so far firm to the laws, that he always gave good advices ; but when bad ones were followed, he was not for complaining too much of them."— • History of His Own Times, vol, i., p. 230. io6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Tlio Duke of Bucldngliam* and the Earl of St. Albansf were the same in England as they appeared in France : the one full of wit and vivacitj, dissipated, without splendour, an immense estate upon which he had just entered : the other, a man of no great geniun, 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 ,J afterwaids Earl of Falmouth, was the * " The Duke of Buckingham is again one liundred and forty thou- sand pounds in debt ; and by this prorogation his creditors have time to tear all hia lands to pieces." — Andrew MarveU'i 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 hia majesty's household. He died January 2, 1683. Sir John Keresby asserts that Lord St. Alban's 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. Alban's, 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 chUdren by her, as some have reported, I did not then believe, though the thing was certainly so." — Memoirs, p. 4, Madame Bavifere, in her letters, says, "Charles the First's widow made a clandes- tine marriage with her chevalier d'honneur, Lord St. Alban's, who treated her extremely ill, so that, whilst she had not a faggot to warm herself, he bad in his apartment a good fire and a sumptuous table. He never gave the queeu a kind word, and when she spoke to him he used to say. Que me veut cettefemme f" Hamilton hints at bis selfish- ness a little lower. X 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 favourite and companion of the Duke of York in all his campaigns. He was created Baron Berkley of Eatli- down, aad Viscount Fitzharding of Ireland, and Baron Bottetort and Earl of Falmouth in England, 17th March, 1664. He had the address MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 107 confidant and favourite of the King: he commanued the Duke of York's regiment of guards, and governed the Duke himself He had nothing very remarkable either in his -wit, or his person ; but his sentiments 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 cha- racterise the greatness of the soul : he had no views but what to secure himself in the aflfeotions 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 vii-tue or quality, which they did not wish their best friends without. He was young, and of an insatiable ambi- tion; and a little more experience might have taught him all things which his weak parts were capable of." — Clarendon's Life, p. 34, 2G7. Bishop Burnet, however, is rather more favourable. " Berkley," says he, " was generous in his expenoe ; and it was thought if he had outlived the lewdness of that time, and come to a more sedate course of Ufe, he would have put the king on great and noble designs." — History, vol. i., p. 137. He lost his life in the action at South wold Bay, the 2nd June, 1665, by a shot, which, at the same time, killed Lord Maskerry and Mr. Boyle, as they were standing on the quarter-deck, near the Duke of York, who was covered with their blood. " Lord Falmouth," as King James observes, " died not worth a farthing, though not expeu- Bive."—Maq]herso}i's State Paj^ers, vol. i. "He was, however, lamenteil by the king with floods of tears, to the amazement of all who had seen how unshalten he stood on other assaults of fortune." — Clarendon'! Life, p. 269. Even his death did not save him from MarveU's satire. Falmouth was there, I know not what to act. Some say, 'twas to grow duke too by contract ; An untaught bullet, in its wanton scope, Dashes him all to pieces, and his hope : Such was his rise, such was his fall uupraised, — A chance shot sooner took him than chance raised ; His shattered head the fearless duke disdains. And gave the last first proof that he had brains. Advice to a Fainter, p. i. io8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. tended to the glory of his master : his credit was never em- ployed but in advising him to reward services, or to confer favours on merit : so polished in conversation, that the greater his power, the greater was his humility ; and so sincere in all his proceedings, that he would never have been taken for a courtier. The DuKe of Ormond's sons and his nephews had been in the king's court during liis exile, and were far from diminish- ing its lustre after his return. The Earl of Arran* had a sin- gular address in all kinds of exercises, played well at tennis and on the guitar, and was pretty successful in gallantry : his * Ricliard Butler, Earl of Arran, fifth son of J.-iraes Butler, the firat Duke of Ormonil. He was born 15th July, 1G39, .and educated with great care, being taught everything suitable to his birth, and tlio great affpction his pai-enta had for him. As he grew up, he distin- guished himself by a brave and excellent ilisposition, whidi detei'ininod him to a military life. When the duke his father was first made lord- lieutenant of Ireland, after the restoration, his majesty was ple.oaed, by his letter, dated April 23, 1662, to create Lord Eichard, Baron Butler of Cloghgreuau, Viscount TuUogh, in the county of Catherlough, and Earl of Arran, with remainder to his brother. In September, 1664, he married Lady Mary Stuart, only surviving daughtei' of James, Duke of iUchmoud and Lennox, by Mary, the only daughter of the great Duke of Buckingham, who died in July, 1667, at the age of eighteen, and was inten'ed at Kilkenny. He distinguished himself in reducing the mutineers at Carrick- Fergus, and behaved with gi-eat courage in the famous sea-fight with the Dutch in 1673. In August that year, he waa created Baron Butler of Weston, in the county of Huntingdon. He married, iu the preceding June, Dorothy, daughter of John Ferrars of Tamworth Castle, in Warwickshire, Esq. In 1682 he was constituted lord-deputy of Ireland, upon his father's going over to England, and held that oflBce until August, 1684, when the duke returned. In the year 1686, he died at London, and wa.s interred in Westminster Abbey, leaving an only daughter, Charlotte, who was married to Charles, Lord Cornwallis. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 109 elder btother, the Ead of Ossoiy * was not so lively, Ijut of the most liberal sentiments, and of great probity. The elder of the Hanultons,"!' their cousin, was the man who of aJl the court dressed best: he was well made in his person, and possessed those happy talents which lead to for- tune, and procure success in love : he was a most assiduous * Thomas, Earl of Osaory, eldest son of the first, and father of the last Duke of Ormond,- -was bom at Kilkenny, 8th July, 1634. At the age of twenty-one years he had so much distinguished himself, that Sir Kobert 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 la all his behaviour." His death was occasioned by a fever, 30th July, 1680, to the grief of his family and the public t Lord Orford, in a note on this passage, mentions George Hamilton, and the author of this present work, as the persons here intended to be pointed out ; and towards the conclusion of the volume has attempted to disentangle the confusion occasioned by the want of particularly distinguiBhing to which of the gentlemen the several adventures belong in which their name occurs. The elder Hamilton, however, here de- scribed, was, I conceive, neither George nor Anthony, but James Hamil- ton, theii brother, eldest son of Sir George Hamilton, fourth son of the Earl of Abercom, by Maty Butler, third sister to James the first Duke of Ormond. This gentleman was a great favourite of king Charles IL, who made h'Tn a groom of his bedchamber, and colonel of a regiment. In an engagement with the Dutch he had one of his legs taken olf by a cannon ball, of which wound he died 6th June, 1673, soon after he was brought home, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. George Hamilton was afterwards knighted, made a count in lYance, and marg- chaJ-dn-camp in that service. He married Miss Jennings, hereafter mentioned, and died, according to Lodge, 1667, leaving iasno by her, three daughtei'S. no MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. coui'tier, had the most lively wit, the most polished mamiers, and the most punctual attention to his master imaginable: no person danced hotter, nor was any one a more general lover : a merit of some account in a court entiiely devoted to love and gallantry. It is not at aU surprising, that with these qualities he succeeded my Lord Falmouth in the King's favour ; 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, * Robert Sydney, tliird son of tlie Earl of Leicester, and brother of tli(? famous Algernon Sydney, who was beheaded. This is Lord Orford's account ; though, on leas authority, I should have been in- clined to have considered Henry Sydney, h is younger brother, who was afterwards created Earl of Eumney, and died 8th April, 1704, as the person intended. There are some circumstances which seem particu- larly to point to him. Burnet, speaking of him, says, " he wiis a graceful man, and had lived long in the court, where he had some adventures that became very public. He was a man of a sweet and caressing temper, had no malice in his heart, but too great a love of pleasure. He had been sent envoy to HoUaud in the year 1679, where he entered into such particular confidences with the prince, that he had the highest measure of his trust and favour that any Englishman ever had." — History of his Own Times, vol. ii., p. 494. In the Essay on Satire, by Dryden and Mulgrave, he is spoken of Ln no very decent terms. " And little Sid, for simile renown'd, Pleasure has always sought, but never found : Though all his thoughts on wine and women fall, His are so bad, sure he ne'er thinks at all. The flesh he lives upon is rank and strong ; His meat and mistresses are kept too long. But sure we all mistake this pious man, Who mortifies his person all he cau : MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. rii had not sufficient vivacity to support the impression ■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 tabl« the good man kept at Paris, while the King his master was starving at Brussels, and the Queen Dowager, his mistress,* lived not ovei well in France. What we uncharitably take for sin, Are only rules of this odd capuchin ; For never hermit, under grave pretence. Has lived more contrary to common sense." These verses, however, have been applied to Sir Charles Sedley, whose name was originally spelt Sidley. Bobeit Sydney died at Pens- hurst, 1674. * To what a miserable state the queen was' reduced may be seen in the following extract from De Eetz. — " 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 lire.' The truth is, that the cardinal for six months together had not ordered her any money towards her pension ; that no ti'adespeople would trust her for anything ; and that there was not at her lodgings in the Louvre one single billet. Tou wiU do me the justice to suppose that the Princess of England did not keep her bed the next day for want of a faggot ; but it was not this which the Princess of Conde 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, hath wanted a faggot, 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 obliged me to make, I believe, a thousand 112 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, Jermyn,* supported by Lis uncle's wealth, fgund it bo difficult matter to make a cousiJerable figure upon his arrival at the couit of the Princess of Orange : the poor courtiers of the king her brother could not Tie with him in point of equi- page and magnificence; and these two articles often produce as much success in love as real merit : there is no necessity for any other example than the present ; for though Jermyn was brave, and certainly a gentleman, yet he had neither bril- liant 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 times, this reflection,— that examples of times past move men beyond comparison more than those of their own times. We accustom our- selves 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."— J/^moiVs, vol. L, 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 honourable 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 but of twenty pistoles, as sometimes he had, he could not find credit to borrow it, which he often had experiment of." —History of the Behellion, vol. iii., p. 2. * Henry Jermyn, younger son of Thomas, elder brother of the Earl of Pt. Albans. He was created -Baron Dover in 1685, and died with- out children, at Cheveley, in Cambridgeshire, April 6, 1708. His corpse was carried to Bruges, in Flanders, and buried in the monastery of the CarmeUtes 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 civility and good taste of it into the country."— (Si. Evremond' s Works, vol. ii., p. 223, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 113 behavioui'. AH his •wit consisted in expressions learnt by- rote, which he occasionally employed either in raillery, or in love. This -was the whole foundation of the merit of a man so formidable in amours. The Princess Eoyal was the first who was taken with him :* Miss Hyde seemed to be following the steps of her mis- tress : this immediately brought him into credit, and his re- putation was established in England before his arrival. Pre- possession in the minds of women is sufficient to find access to their hearts : Jermyn found them in dispositions so favour- able for him, that he had nothing to do but to speak. It was in vain they perceived that a reputation so lightly established, was stOl more weakly sustained: the prejudice remained: the Countess of Castlemaine,-f a woman lively * 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 Buke on his second voyage to Holland, in the year 1652. f This lady, wlbo makes so distinguished a figure in the annals of infamy, ■waa Barbara, daughter and heir of "WiUiam Villiers, Lord Vis- count Grandison, of the kingdom of Ireland, who died in 1642, in consequence of wounds received at the battle of Edgehill. She was married, just before the restoration, to Roger Palmer, Esq., then a student in the Temple, and heir to a considerable fortune. In the 13th year of King Charles IL he was created Earl of Castlemaine in the kingdom of Ireland. She had a daughter, bom in February, 1661, while she cohabited with her husband ; but shortly after she became the avowed mistress of the king, who continued lus 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 Eitzroy, her eldest and third son, and their heirs male. In July, 1705, her husband died. ii4. MEMOIRS OF COUNT, GRAMMONT. and discerning followed the delusive shadow; and though undeceived in a reputation which promised so much, and per-i formed so little, she nevertheless continued in her infatua- tion : she even persisted in it, until she was upon the point of emhroOing herself with the King ; so great was this first instance of her constancy. Such were the heroes of the court. As for the beauties, you could not look anywhere without seeing them : those of the greatest reputation were this same Countess of Castle- maine, afterwards Duchess of Cleveland, Lady Chesterfield, Lady Shrewshury,* the Mrs. Koherts, Mrs. Middleton, the and she soon after married a man of desperate fortune, known by the name of Handsome rielding, 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 afterwaixls, and died of a dropsjr, on the 9th of October, 1709, in her 69th year. Bishop Burnet 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 behaviour 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, re- quired great application. — History of his Own, Times, vol. i. p. 129. * Anna. Maria, Countess of Shrewsbury, eldest daughter of Eoberfc 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 re-married with George Eodney Bridges, Esq., second son of Sir Thomas Bridges of Keynsham, in Somersetshii'o^ knight, and died April 20, I702. By her second husband she had one son, George Eodney 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 vhich she went to bed with him, stained with her husband's blood. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 11-5 Misses Brooks,* and a thousand others, who shone at couri; ■with equal lustre; but it was Miss Hamilton and Miss Stewart who were its chief ornaments. The new queen gave but Uttlc additional brilliancy to the couTt,-f- either in her person or in her retinue, which was then composed of the Countess de Pandtra, who came over with her in quality of lady of the bedchamber ; six frjgtits, who called themselves maids of honour, and a duenna, another monster, who took the title of governess to those extraordinary beauties, * One of these ladies married Sir John Denham, and is mentioned hereafter. t Lord Clarendon confirms, in some measure, this account. " There ■was a numerous family of men and women, that were sent from Portugal, the most improper to promote that conformity in the queen that was necessary for her condition and future happiness that could be chosen ; the women, for the most part, old, and ugly, and proud, incapable of any conversation with persons of quality and a liberal education : and they desired, and indeed had conspired so far to possess the queen them- selves, 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 honour 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 offices. 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, until she found that the king was displeased, and would be obeyed ; whereupon she conformed, against the advice of her women, who continued their opiniatrety, without any one of them receding from their own mode, which exposed them the more to reproach." — Continuation of Glarend(m's Life, p. 168. In a short time after their arrival in England, they were ordered back to PortugaL ii6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Among the men were Francisco de Melo, brother to the Countess de Pan^tra; one Taurauvddez, 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 of a Portuguese nymph more hideous than the queen's maids of honour, whom he had taken &om 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. Katharine de Braganza was far from appearing with splendour in the charming court where she came to reign; however, in the end she was pretty successful.* The Cheva- • Lord Clarendon says, " the queen had 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 expeiience of the world, and of as much wit as could be wished, and of a humour very agieeable 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 inclina- tions, was enoughdisposed to have been one of that number : and from this restraint she waa called out to be a great queen, and to a free conversa- tion 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 confor- mity the present disposition of men or women was not enough iuclineil to submit, nor the king enough disposed to exact."— Conlinnai ion i/ Lord Clarendon's Life, p. 167. After some struggle, she submitted to the MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 117 lier 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 ho wanted no interpreter : they all spoke French enough to explain them- selves, 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* had a majestic air, a pretty good shape, not much beauty, a great deal of wit, and so just a discernment 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 con- sidered as if bom to support the rank which placed her so near the throne. The queen dowager returned after the mar- king's licentious conduct, and from that time lived upon easy terms ■with Lim, uutU his death. On the 30th March, 1692, she left Somerset-house, her usual residence, and retii'ed to Lisbon, where she died, 31st Decem- ber, IVOS, N. S. * " The Duchess of York," says Bishop Burnet, " was a very extra- ordinary ■woman. She had great knowledge, and a Uvely sense of things. She soon understood what belonged to a princess, and took state on her rather too much. She wrote well, and bad begun the duke's life, of which she showed me a rolume. 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 con- fession. Morley told me he was her confessor. She began at twelve years old, and continued under his direction till, upon her father's dis- grace, he was put from the court. She was generous and friendly, but was too severe an enemy." — History of his Oton Times, vol. L, p. 237. She was contracted to the duke at Breda, November 24, 1659, and married at Worcester-house, 3rd September, 1660, in the night, be- tween eleven and two, by Dr. Joseph Cro^wther, the duke's chaplain ; the Lord Ossory giving her in marriage. — Kennefs Register, p. 246, She died 31st March, 1671, having previously acknowledged herself to be a Eoman Catholic. — See also her character by Bishop Morley.— Kennees Register, p. 385, 390. ii8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. riage of the princess royal,* and it was in her court that the two others met. The ChevaKer de Grammont was soon liked by all parties : those who had not known him before were surprised to see a Frenchman of his disposition. The kiag'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 vulgar nor barbarous ; and as he showed a natural complaisance, instead of the impertiuent af- fectation of the others, all the nation was charmed with a man, + Queen Henrietta Maria arrived at Whitehall, 2nd Novembei, 1660, after nineteen years absence. She was received with acclama- tions ; and bonfires were lighted on the occasion, both in London and Westminster. She returned to France with her daughter, the Princess Henrietta, 2nd January, 1660-1. She arrived again at Greenwich, 28lh July, 1662, and continued to keep her court in England until July, 1665, when she embarked for 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 Colombe, near Paris, in August, 1669 ; and her son, the Duke of York, pronounces this eulogium on her : " She excelled in all the good qualities of a good wife, of a good mother, and a good Christian." — Macpherscm'a Original Papers, vol. i. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 119 who agreeably indemnified them for what they had suffered from the folly of the fomjer. 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 coimtiy. Everything which could agreeably engage a man of his disposition, presented itself to his different humours, 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 before hand. These importunate civilities became tire- some ia 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. His supper hour depenaed upon play, and was indeed very uncertain ; but his supper was always served up with the greatest elegance, by the assistance of one or two servants, who were excellent caterers and good attendants, but under- stood cheating still better. The company, at these little entertainments, was not ntime- rous, but select : the first people of the court were commonly of the party ; but the man, who of aU others suited him best on these occasions, never failed to attend : that was the cele- brated 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 reasonsL 120 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Happily for them both, fortune had, some time before the ai-rival of the Chevalier de Grammont, brought Saint Evre- mond* to England, after he had had leisure to repent in Hol- land of the beauties of that famous satire. * Charles de St. Denis, Seigneur de- Saint Evremond, vma bom at St. Deiii3 le Guast, in Lower Normandy, on the 1st 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 Mazariu, which occasioned his being banished France. He first took- refuge in Holland ; but, in 1662, he removed into England, where he con- tinued, 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, five months, and twenty days. His biographer Monsieur Des Maizeaux, describes him thus : " M. de St. Evremond had blue, lively, and sparkling eyes, a large forehead, thick eyebrows, a handsome mouth, and a sneering physiognomy. Twenty years before his death, a wen grew between his eye-brows, which in time increased to a considerable bigness. 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 opera- tion 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 grea* leather cap, and grey hair, which he chose to weeir rather than a peri- wig." St. Evremond was a kind of Epicurean philosopher, and drew his own character in the following terms, in a letter to Count de Gram- mont. " He was a philosopher equally removed from superstition and impiety ; a voluptuary who had no less aversion from debauchery than inclination for pleasure : a man who had never felt the pressure of indigence, and who had never been in possession of affluence : he lived in a, condition despised by those who have everything, envied by those who have nothing, and relished by those who make their reason the foundation of their happiness. When he was. young he hated profusion, being persuaded that some degree of wealth was necessary for the cou- veniencies of a long life : when he was old, he could hardly endum economy, being of opinion that want is little to be dreaded when a man MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 121 Tte Cbev&lier was from tliat 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 pvirsuits, frecLuently gave little lec- tures to the Chevalier, and by making observations upon the past, endeavoured to set him right for the present, or to in- struct 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 morning, without knowing what it is to lose. Far from losing the money you brought has but little time left to be miserable. He was well pleased with nature, and did not complaiu of fortune. He hated vice, was indulgent to frailties, and lamented misfortunes. He sought not after the failings of men with a design to expose them ; he only found what was ridicu- lous in them for hia own amusement : he had a secret pleasure in dis- covering this himself, and would, indeed, have had a still greater in discovering this to others, had not he been checked by .discretion. Life, in his opinion, was too short to read all sorts of books, and to burdea one's memory with a multitude of things, at the expense of one's judg- ment. He did not apply himself to the most learned writings, in order to acquire knowledge, but to the most rational, to fortify his reason : he sometimes chose the most delicate, to give delicacy to his own taste, and sometimes the most agreeable, to give the same to his own genius. It remains that he shotdd be described, such as he was, in friendship and in religion. In friendship he was more constant than a philosopher, and more sincere than a young man of good nature without experience. With regard to religion, his piety consisted more in justice and charity thun in penance or mortification. He placed his confidence in God, trusting in His goodness, and hoping that in the bosom of His provi- dence he should find his repose and his felicity." — He was buried ia Westminster Abbey. 122 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT: hither, as you have done in other places, you have doubled it, trebled it, multiplied it almost- beyond your wishes, notwith- standing the exorbitant 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 faTourable to you * Tou are sensible how much gallantry has cost you ; and eyery 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 fite a stranger and an exile in this delightful country. * " Saint Evremond and Buasi-Rabutin, who have also written on the life of the Count de Grammont, agree with Hamilton in representing him as a man less fortunate in love than at play ; not seeking for any other pleasure in the conquest of a woman but that of depriving an- other of her ; and not able to persuade any one of his passion, because he spoke to her, as at all other times, in jest : but cruelly revenging himself on those who refused to hear him ; corrupting the servants of those whom they did favour, connterfeiting their handwriting, inter- cepting their letters, disconcerting their rendezvous ; in one word, disturbing their- amours by everything which a rival; prodigal, in- defatigable, and full of artifice, can be imagined to do. The straitest ties of blood could not secure any one from his detraction. His nephew, the Count de Guiche, was a victim : he had in truth, offended the Count de Grammont, by having supplanted him in the affection of the Countess de Fiesqu«, whom he loved afterwards for the space -of twelve years. Here was enough to irritate the self-love of a man less persuaded of his own merit.'' Hamilton does not. describe the exterior of the count, but accuses Bussi-Eabutin of ha^/ing, in the following description, given a more agreeable than faithful portrait of him : " The chevalier had laughing eyes, a well-formed nose, a beautiful mouth, a small dimple in the chin, which had an agreeable effect on his countenance, a certain delicacy in his physiognomy, and a handsome shape, if he had not stooped." MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 123 "Fortune may grow weary of befriending you at play. \Vhat 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 1 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 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 supplant a lover, your gains at play will by no means sufi&ce for presents and for bribes : no, let play be as produc- tive 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. " Tou are in possession of a thousand splendid qualifications which distinguish you here: generous, benevolent, elegant, and polite ; and for your engaging wit, inimitable. Upon a strict examination, perhaps, all this would not be found liter- ally true ; but these are brilliant marks ; 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 denominated, 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 Nor- mandy." " Do I say anything untrue ?" replied Saint Evre- mond : " 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 affec- tion is the last thing in your thoughts. Tou seldom engage in intrigues, but to disturb 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 aU the places through 124 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. which you have passed furnish me with a thousand examples ? Shall I mention your coup d'essai at Turin ? the trick you played at Fontainebleau, where you robbed the Princess Pala- tine'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 ? " Wlio but yourself ever took it into his head to place him- self in ambush upon the stairs, to disturb a man in an in- trigue, 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 riTal ? How many spies did not you send out after d'Olonne ?* How many tricks, frauds, and persecutions, did you not prac^ tise for the Countess de riesqu8,t who perhaps might have * Mademoiselle de la Loupe, who is nientioued in De Eetz's Memoira 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 Kaynier. There is a long character of ber by St. Evremond, in his works, voL i., p. 17. The same writer, mentioning tlie concern of some ladies for the death of the Duke of Candale, says, " But his true mis- tress (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." — tit. Evremond's Works, vol. ii., p. 24. t This 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, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 125 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 not we 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 abeady engaged ; and however docile the English may be with respect to their wives, they can by no means bear the inconstancy of their mistresses, nor patiently siifier the advantages of a rival : suffer them therefore to remain in tranquillity, and do not gain their iU-wUl for no purpose. " You certainly will meet with no success with- such as are unmarried": honourable views,, and- good landed property, are required here ; and you possess as much of the one as the other. Every country has its customs : in Holland, unmarried ladies are of easy access, and of tender dispositions; but as soon as ever they are married, they become like so many LU7 cretias : 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 bgheve you yet so destitute of grace as to think of that." Such were Saint Evremond's lectures ; but they were aU 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. 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. Evre- moncPs Works, vol. i, p. 6. The count's name occurs very frequentlY in De Betz's Memoirs. 126 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. being weary of the favours 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 discourage no one ; and so great was her desire of appearing magnificently, that she was ambitious to vie with those of the greatest for- tunes, though unable to support the expense. All this suited the Chevalier de Grammont ; therefore, without trifling away his time in useless 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 Eaxl of Ranelagh:* what engaged Tii'tti 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 aiLswered his purpose. Immediately spies were placed, letters and presents flew about : he was received as weU as he could wish : he was per- mitted 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 else- where. Among the queen's maids of honour, there was one called • Richard, the first Earl of Kanehigh, was member of the Engliah house of commons, and vice-treasurer of Ireland, 1674. He held several offices under King William and Queen Anne, and died 5th January, 1711. Bishop Burnet says, " Lord Ranelagh was a young man of great parts, and as great vices : he 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. L, p. 373. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GTtAMMONT. 127 Wannestre :* she was a beauty very different from the other. Mrs. Middletonf -was -well made, fair, and delicate ; but had m her behaviour and discourse something precise and affeeted. The indolent languishing airs she gave herself did not please everybody: people grew weary of those sentiments of deli- cacy, which she endeavoured to explain without understand- ing them herself; and instead of entertaining she became tiresome. 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 reputation of being tire- some, 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 nothing that might engage a lover, and promised everything which could preserve him. In the end, it very plainly appeared that her * Lord Orford observes, that there is a famfly of the name of ■War- minster settled at Worcester, of which five persons are interred in the cathedral. One of them waa dean of the church, and his epitaph mentions his attachment to the royal famUy. Miss Warminster, how- ever, 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 honour here spoken of was Miss Mary Kirk, sister of the Countess of Oxford, and who, three years after she was driven from court, married Sir Thomas Vernon, under the supposed character of a widow. It was not im- probable she then assumed the name of Warminster. In the year 1C69, the following is the list of the maids of honour to the queen : — 1. 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 Chamhej-- layn^s Angliae Notitia, 1669, p. 301. t Mrs. Jane Middleton, according to Mrs. Granger, was a woman of small fortune, but great beauty. Her portrait is in the gallery at Windsor. o 128 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. consent went along with her eyes to the last degree of indis- cretion. It was between these two goddesses that the inclinations of the Chevalier de Granunont stood wavering, and between whom his presents were divided. P^fumed gloves, pocket looking-glasses, elegant boxes, apricot paste, essences, and other small wares of love, arrived eveiy 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, aU 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 celebrated. • Frances, Duchess of Eiclimond, dangliter of Walter Stewart, son of Walter, Baron of Blantyre, and wife of Charles Stewart, Duke of Richmond and Lennox : a lady of exquisite beauty, if justly repre- sented 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 perhaps was ever seen. The king was supposed to be de.s- perately in love with her ; and it became common discourse, that there was a design on foot to get him divorced from the queen, in order to m^rry this lady. Lord Clarendon was thought 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 he actually encouraged the Duke of Rich- mond'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 under- taken to carry that matter through the parliament. It is certain too that the king considered 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 AprU, 1667. From one of Sir Robert Southwell's dispatches, dated Lisbon, December t\, 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 Fortugal, 1740, p. 352. The duchess became a widow in 1672, and MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 129 The Countess of Castlemaine perceived tliat the king paid attention to her; but, instead of being alarmed at it, she favoured, as far as she was able, this new inclination, whether from an indiscretion common to all those who think them- selves superior to the rest of mankind, or whether she de- signed, by this pastime, to divert the king's attention from the commerce which she held with Jei-myn. 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 favourite, and invited her to all the entertainments she made for the king ; and, in con- fidence 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 indifferent objects have charms in a new attachment : however, 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 triumph over all the advantages which these opportuni- ties could afford Miss Stewart ; but she was quite mistaken. The Chevalier de Grammont took notice of this conduct, without being able to comprehend it ; but, as he was atten- tive 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 engaging: 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 died October 15, 1702. See Bumefs History, Ludlaufs Memoirs, and Cart^i Life of the Duke of Ormond. A figure in wax of this duchess is stiU to be seen in Westminater-abbey. 130 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. the generality of women : she was very graceful, danced well, and spoke French better than her mother tongue : she was well bred, and possessed, in perfection, that aii- of dress which is so much admired, and which cannot be attained, unless it be taken when young, in France. While her charms were ga inin g 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 favour of Jermyn : she had just married a man whom she loved : by this mar- riage she became sister-in-law to the duchess, brilliant by her own native lustre, and fuU of pleasantry and wit. However, she was of opinion, that so long as she was not talked of on account of Jerniyn, all her other advantages would avail nothing for her glory: it was, therefore, to receive this finishing stroke, that she resolved to throw herself into his arms. She was of a middle size, had a skin of a dazzUug white- ness, fine hands, and a foot surprisingly beautiful, even in England : long custom had given such a languishing tender- ness 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. Jermyn accepted of her at first; but, being soon puzzled what to do with her, he thought it best to sacrifice her lo Lady Castlemaine. The sacrifice was far from being displeasing to her ; it was much to her glory to have carried off Jermyn from so many competitors ; but this was of no consequence in the end. * Tbeodosia, daughter of Arthur, Lord Capel, first wife of Henry Hyde, the second Eai'l of Clarendon. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 131 Jacob Hall (the famous rope-dancer)* -was at that time in vogue in London ; his strength and agility charmed in public, even to a wish to know what he was in private ; for he ap- peared.in his tumbling dress, to be quite of a different make.and to have limbs very different 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 honour of the rope-dancer than of the countess ; but she despised all these rumours, and only ap- peared still more handsome. While satire thus found emplojTnent at her cost, there were continual contests for the favours of another beauty, who was not much more niggardly in that way than herself; this was the Countess of Shrewsbury. The Earl of Arran, who had been one of her first admirers, was not one of the last to desert her ; this beauty, less famous for her conquests than for the misfortunes she occasioned, placed her greatest merits ia being more capricious than any other. As no person could boast of being the only one in her * " There was a symmetry and elegance, as ■well as strength and agility, in the person of Jacob Hall, which was tauch admired by the ladies, who regarded him as a due composition of Hercules and Adonis. ITie open-hearted Duchess 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 u., 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 froia Horace :" " What push'd poor E s on th' imperial whore I '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." 132 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. favour ; so no person could complain of having been ill re- ceived. Jermyn was displeased that she had made no advances to him, without considering that she had no leisui'e for it ; his pride was offended ; hut 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 demeanour, and his manners appeared gentle and pacific, no person was more spirited nor more passionate. Lady Shrewsbuiy, inconsider- ately returning the first ogles of the invincible Jermyn, did not at all make herself more agreeable to Howard ; that, how- ever, 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,-|- was fixed upon for the scene of this entertainment. * Thomas Howard, fourth son of Sir William Howard. He married Mary, Duchess of Bichmond, daughter of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, and died 1678. — See Madame Dunois' Memoirs of the English Court, 8vo., 1708. t This place appears, from the description of its situation in the following extract, and in some ancient plans, to have been near Charing- CroBS, probably where houses are now built, though still retaining the name of gardens. The entertainments usually to be met with there are thus described by a contemporary writer : " The manner is, as the company returns, (i.e. from Hyde Park,) to alight at the Spring Garden, BO called in order to the park, as our Tuileries is to the course : the enclosure not disagreeable, for the solemness of the grove, the warbling of the birds, and as it opens into the spacious walks at St. Jamesls ; but the company walk in it at such a rate, you would think all the ladies were so many Atalantas contending with their wooers ; and, my lord, there was no appearance that I should prove the Hippomenes, who could with much ado keep pace with them : but as last as they run. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 133 As soon as the party was settled, Jermyn was privately 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 enter- tainment. Jermyn was at the garden, as by chance ; and, pufied up with his former successes, he trusted to his vic- torious air for accomplishing 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 entertainment 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 patience; three times was the banquet on the point of being stained with blood; but three times did he suppress his natural they stay there bo .oDg as if they wanted not time to finish the race ; for it is usual here to find some of the youug company till midnight ; and the thickets of the garden seem to be contrived to all advantages of gallantry, after they have refreshed with the collation, which is here seldom omitted, at a certain cabaret, in the middle of this paradise, where the forbidden fruits are certain trifling tarts, neats' tongues, salicious meats, and bad Bhenish, for which the gaUanta pay sauce, as indeed they do at all such houses throughout England ; for they think it a piece of frugality beneath them to bargain or account for what they eat in any place, however unreasonably imposed upon." — Character of England, 12mo., 1659, p. 56, written, it is said, by John Evelyn, Esq. Spring Garden is the scene of intrigue in many of our comedies of this period. 134 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Impetuosity, in order to satisfy his resentment elsewhere with greater freedom. Jermyn, without paying the least attention to his ill- humour, 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 awakened next morning by a challenge. He took for his second Giles Rawlings, & man of intrigue, and a deep player. Howard took Dillon, who was dexterous and brave, much of a gentleman, and, unfortunately, an intimate friend to Rawlings. In this duel fortune did not side with the votaries of love : poor Eawlings was left stone dead ; and Jermyn, having re- ceived three wounds, was carried to his uncle's, with very little signs of life. While the report of this event engaged the courtiers accord- ing to their several interests, the Chevalier de Grammont was informed by Jones, his friend, his confidant, and his rival, that there was another gentleman very attentive to Mrs. Middle- ton : this was Montagu,* no very dangerous rival on account of his person, but very mudi to be feared for his assiduity, * Ralph Montagu, second son of Edward, Lord Montagu. He was master of the horse to the queen, and, in 1669, was sent ambassador- extraordinary to France ; on his return from ■whence, in January, 1672, he was sworn of the privy-council. He afterwards became master of the great wardrobe, and was sent a second time to France. 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 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 died 7th March, 1709, in his 73rd year, leaving behind him the charac- ter of a very indulgent parent, a kind and bountiful master, a very hearty friend, a noble patron of nion of merit, and a true assertor of English liberty. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 135 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: vexation awakened in him whatever expedients the desire of revenge, malice, and experience, could suggest, for troubling the designs of a rival, and tormenting a mistress. Hife 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 injustice done him, he was upon the point of conspiring the destruction of poor Mrs. Middleton, when, by accident, 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 different 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 agree- able to his merit and quality, and was astonished that he had spent so much time in other places ; for, after having made this acquaintance, he was desirous of no other. All the world agreed that Miss Hamilton* was worthy of * Elizabeth, sister of the author of these Memoirs, and daughter of Sir George Haiuiiton, foui-th son_<>f James, the first Karl of Aberi-urju, 136 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. the most ardent and sincere affection : nobody could boast a nobler birth, nothing was more charming than her person. 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 da,ughters : Claude Charlotte, nmrried, 3rd April, 1694, to Henry, Earl of Staflbrd ; and another, who became superior, or abbes.'i, of the Cauoneases in Lorraine, CHAPTER SEVENTH. HE FALLS Ilf LOTE WITH MISS HAMILTON. — VARIOUS ADVEN- TURES AT THE BALL IN THE QUEEN'S DRAWING-EOOM. — CURIOUS VOYAGE OE HIS VALBT-DB-CHAMBRE TO AND EROM PARIS. HE Chevalier de Grammont, never satisfied in his amours, was fortunate without being be- loved, and became jealous without having an attachment. Mrs. Middleton, as we have said, was going to experience what methods he could invent to torment, after having ex- perienced 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 com- mended ; this, therefore, was the first time that he had a close view of her, and he soon found that he had seen nothing at J39 I40 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. court liefore 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 Woom ; 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 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 difficult to imitate. Her complexion was possessed of a certain freshness, not to be equalled by borrowed colours : her eyes were not large, but they were lively, and capable of expressing 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 qualification. Her mind was a proper companion for such a form : she did not endeavour 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 discern- ment in distinguishing between solid and false wit ; and far from making an ostentatious display of her abilities, she was reserved, though very just in her decisions : her sentiments were always noble, and even lofty to the highest extent, when there was occasion ; nevertheless, she was less prepossessed with her o^n merit than is usually the case with those who MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 141 have so much. Formed, as we have described, she could not fail of commanding love ; hut 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 endeavour to please and encase her in his turn : his entertaining wit, his conversation, lively, easy, and always distinguished by novelty, constantly gained him attention ; but he was much embarrassed to find that pre- seuts, which so easily made 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 London 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 em- ployment, as will appear hereafter. The queen was a woman of sense, and used all her endea- vours to please the king, by that kind obliging behaviour which her affection 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 masquerade, where those, whom she appointed to dance, had to represent different nations ; she allowed some time for preparation, during which we may suppose, the taUofs, 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 142 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ~ ' tricks, in a conjuncture so favourable, 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 cousin-german ; and the other a maid of honour to the Duchess, called Blague.* The first, whose husband most assuredly never married 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 fortune : she had the shape of a woman big with child, without being so ; but had a very good reason for limping ; for, of two legs uncommonly short, one was much shorter than the other. A face suitable to this de- scription 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 eye-lashes, as long as one's finger. With these attrac- tions she placed herself in ambuscade to surprise unwary • It appears, by Ghamherlayne's Anglioe Notitia, 1669, that this lady, or perhaps her sister, continued one of the duchess's maids of honour at that period. The list, at that time, was as follows : — 1. Mrs. Arabella Churchill. 2. Mrs. Dorothy Howard. 3. Mrs. Anne Ogle. 4. Mrs. Mary Blague. The mother of the maids then was Mrs. Lucy Wise. Miss Blague performed the part of Diana, in Crown's Calisto, acted at court in 1676, and was then styled late maid of honour to the queen. Lord Orford, however, it should be observed, calls her Henrietta Maria, daughter 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, according to Collins, in his peerage, Margaret, at that time maid of honour' to Katherine, Queen of England, fourth daughter, and one of the co-heirB of Thomas Blague, Esq., groom of the bedchamber to Charles I. and Charles II., colonel of a regiment of foot, and governor of "WalUngford during the civil wars, and governor of Yarmouth and Languard Fort after the Restoratioiu. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 143 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, 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 believed that her long eyelashes had never taken aim at any but himself: everybody perceived their inclina- tion for each other ; but they had only conversed by mute interpreters, when Miss Hamilton took it into her head to intermeddle in their affairs. She was willing to do everything in order, and therefore began with her cousin Muskerry, on account of her rank. Her two darling foibles were dress and dancing. Magnifi- cence 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 so much complaisance for the public, as always to make her dance ; but it was impossi- ble to give her a part in an entertainment so important and splendid as this masquerade: 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 design of di- verting herself at the expense of this silly woman. The queen sent notes to those whom she appointed 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 144 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. and a sister, wto were glad to divert themselves at the ex- pense 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 honour, rather serious, very severe, and a mortal enemy to ridicule. His wife's deformity was not so intolerable to him, as the ridiculous figure she made upon all occasions. He thought that he was safe in the present case, not believing that the queen would spoil her masquerade by naming Lady Muskerry as one of the dancers • nevertheless, as he was acquainted with the passion his wife had to expose herself in public, by her dress and dancing, he had just been advising her very seriously to content herself with being a spectator of this entertaiiLment, 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 en- tertainment, which they had no thoughts of giving her ; but far from taking his advice ia good part, she imagined that he was the only person who had prevented the queen from doing her an honour she so ardently desired ; and as soon as he was gone out, her design was to go and throw herself at her Ma- jesty's feet to demand justice. She was in this very dis- position when she received the billet : three times did she kiss it ; and without regarding 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 145 effects, that she could believe anything. Brisacier, 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, regulated herseK upon the Duke's authority, in admiring the one and the other. It was remarked, that aU 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 ac- knowledgment and consciousness. It was upon these obser- vations they resolved to make a jest of her, the first oppor- tunity. While these little projects were forming, the king, who always wished to oblige the Chevalier de Grammont, asked him, if he would make one at the masq^uerade, on condition of being Miss Hamilton's partner? He did not pretend to dance sufficiently weU for an occasion lilie the present ; yet he was far from refusing the offer : " Sire," said he, " of all the favours 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 maida of honour, 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 necessary 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 ChevcJier. " I will. 146 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. dress after the French manner, in order to disguise myself; for they already do me the honour to take me for an English- man in your city of London. Had it not been for this, I should have wished to have appeared as a Roman ; but for fear of embroiling myself with Prince Eupert,* whO' so warmly espouses the interests of Alexander against Lord Thanet,-j- who declares himself for Caesar, 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 1 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 impatience on an occasion like the present, before the courier could be landed, began to count the minutes in expectation of his return : thus was he employed until the very eve of the ball ; and that was * Grandson of James the First, whose actions during the civil wars are •well known. He was born 19th 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 was so great an enemy to Digby and Colepepper, who were only present in the debates of the war with the officers, that he crossed all they pro- posed." — History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. 554. He is supposed to have invented the art of mezzotinto. — See iiote, post. t This nobleman, I believe, was John Tufton, second Earl of Thanet, who died 6th May, 1664. Lord Orford, however, imagines Lim to have baen Nicholas Tufton, the third Earl of Thanet, his eldest son, who died 24th November, 1679. Both these noblemen suffered much for their loyalty. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 147 tlie day that jMiss Hamilton 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 : " Ton were the other day more charming than all the fair women in tiie 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 yovmg wild hoar's eyes* Shall you be at the masquerade to-morrow ? But can there be any charms at an entertainment, 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 bUlet, 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 cabi- net. As soon as they were there : " I desire your secrecy for what I am going to tell you," said Lady Muskerry. " Do not you wonder what strange creatures men are ? Do not trust to them, my dear cousin : my Lord Muskerry, who, before our • Marcasain is French for a wild boar : the eyes of this creature teing remarkably small and lively, from thence the French say, " Dea yeux marcasains," to signify little, though ror/uish eyes ; or, as we say. inrja' eyes. 148 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. marriage, could have passed whole days and nights in seeing me dance, thinks proper now to forbid me dancing, and says it does not hecome me. This is not all : he has so often ning in my ears the subject of this masquerade, that I am obliged to hide from him the honour 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 aU imagination." Here it was that Miss Hamilton's inclination to laugh, which had increased in proportion as she endeavoured to suppress it, at length overcame her, and broke out in an im- moderate fit : Lady Muskerry took it in good humour, not doubting but it was the fantastical conduct of her husband that she was laugliing 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 masquerade ; 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 fantas- tical spouse, who had forbid him to dance. This conversation being finished. Lady Muskeny went away in great haste, to endeavour 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 ?" " Be- cause/' said he, " I am informed that my wife is making great MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 149 preparations of dress. I knoAV 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 airording some fresh subject for ridicule, notwithstanding 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 dis- missed him, under pretence of a thousand things they had to prepare for the next day, lliss Hamilton thought herself at Liberty for that morning, when in came Miss Price, one of the maids of honour to the Duchess.* This was just what she was wishing for : This lady and Miss Blague had been at va- riance 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 honour were not nominated for the masquerade, yet they were to assist at it ; and, consequently, were to neglect nothing to set themselves off to advantage. Miss Hamilton had still another pair of 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, brovm as she was. Miss Price returned her a thousand thanks, and • Our author's memory here fails him : Miss Price was maid of honour to the queen. Mr. Granger says, "there was a Lady Price, a fins ■woman, who was daughter of Sir Edmond Warcup, concerning whom Eee Wood's Fasti Oicon. 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 f 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. 150 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. promised to do hersell' tlie honour 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 whoUy 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 pre- tensions to him." This was enough : Miss Blague was only ridiculous and coquettish : Miss Price was ridiculous, coquet- tish, and something else besides. The day being come, the court, more splendid than ever, exhibited all its magnificence at tMs masquerade. The com- pany were all met except the Chevalier de Grammont : every body 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 stiU 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 extra- ordinary 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 V " 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 Grammont, " 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 Btory in the following manner : MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 151 " It is now two days since this fellow ought to have been liere, according to my orders and his protestations : you may judge of my impatience all this day, when I found he did not come : at last, after I had heartily cursed him, ahout an hour ago he arrived, splashed all over from head to foot, booted up to the waist, and looking as 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 V said I : ' do not stand here prating, while I should be dressing.' ' I had,' continued he, ' packed it up, made it tight, and folded it iu 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 T said I. ' Lost, sir,' said he, clasping his hands. ' How 1 lost,' said I, in surprise. ' Yes, lost, perished, swallowed up : what can I say more V ' What ! was the packet-boat cast away then V said I. 'Oh I indeed, sir, a great deal worse, as you shall see,' answered he : ' I was withia half a league of Calais yesterday morning, and I was resolved to go by the sea-side, to make greater haste ; but, in- deed, they say very true, that notliing 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 152 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. horse, fifteen men could scarce get Tn\m out ; tut the portman- teau, 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 immediate advice of the quicksand, that your couriers may take car?, to avoid it." The King was ready to split his sides with laughing, when the Chevalier de Grammont, resuming the discourse, " apro- pos, sire," said he, " I had forgot to teU you, that, to increase my ill-humour, I was stopped, as I was getting out of my chair, by the devU 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 iTxdeness possible, she 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 tissue 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 aU she had appointed for the ball were present ; and the king, having paused some minutes : " I bet," said he, " that it is the Duchess of Newcastle."* "And I," said Lord Muskerry, * This fantastic lady, as Lord Orford properly calls her, was the youngest daughter of Sir Cliarles Lucas, and had been one of the maids MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 153 coming up to Miss Hamilton, " 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 : Lord Muskerry offered himself for that service, 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 conjecture ; the jest would have gone much farther than she intended, if the Princess of Baby- lon had appeared in all her glory. 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 beautiful women in this assembly, as were to be found in the whole world : but as their number was not great, they left the French, and went to coun- try 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 honour 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 biUet they had conveyed to her on the part of Brisacier had its effect : she was more yellow than saffron: her hair was stuffed with the citron-coloured riband, which she had put there out of complaisance ; and, to of honour 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 untU the restoration. After her return to England, she lived entirely devoted to letters, and published many volumes of plays, poems, letters, &e. 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, sha generally wore. She had always a maid of honour 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. 154 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. inform Bxisacier of Ms fate, she raised often to her head her victorious hands, adorned with the gloves we have hefore men- tioned : but, if they were surprised to see her in a head-dress that made her look more wan than ever, she was very differ- ently surprised to see Miss Price partake with her in every particular of Brisacier's present : her surprise soon turned to jealousy ; for her rival had not failed to join in conversation with him, on account of what had been insinuated to her the evening before ; nor did Brisacier fail to return her first ad- vances, without paying the least attention to the fair Blague, nor to the signs which she was tormenting 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 Brisacier forward as often aa 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 that he had. for country dances: Miss Blague thought that it was herself that he despised ; and, seeing that he was engaged 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 covtrt, none but Miss Hamilton and her accomplices, 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 axjquainted Miss Hamilton, that it was Lady Mnskerry 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 tliink,.perhaps, that we have dwelt too long MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 155 on these trifling incidents; perhaps he may be right "We will therefore pass to others. Everything favoured the Chevalier de Grammont in the new passion which he entertained: he was not, however, without rivals ; hut, what is a great deal more extraordinary, he was without uneasiness : he was acquainted with their under- standings, 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 cha- racter 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 assiduity. As hunting was his favourite diversion, that sport employed bim 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 heart, he entertained her with what he had in his head : telling her miracles of the cunning of foxes and the mettle of horses ; giving her accounts of broken legs and arms, dislocated shoulders, and other curious and entertaining adventures ; after which, his eyes told her the rest, till such time as sleep interrupted their con- versation ; for these tender interpreters could not help some- times 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 affection and esteem for Miss Hamilton, she never treated her more graciously than on the present occasion. 156 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. The two Eussells, uncle* and nepheWjf 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 hoth at once ; hut 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 Eussell, amazed at so terrible a change, resolved to keep a medium, which made him remarkable : he was still more so, by his constancy for cut doublets, which he supported a long time after they had been universally suppressed ; 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 was under the necessity of attending to his uncle for an establishment, and still more so of humouring him, in order to get his estate, he could not avoid his fate. Mrs. Middleton showed him a sufficient degree of preference ; but her favours could not secure him from the charms of Miss Hamilton : his person would have had nothing disagreeable in it, if he had but left it to nature ; but he was formal in aU 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 • EusseU, 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 Bussell, younger brother of the above John Eussel. He was standaid-bearer to Charles II., and died un- manied, 1674. He was elder brother to Russell, Earl of Orford. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 157 these competitions, engaged himself more and more in his passion, without forming other designs, or conceiving other hopes, than to render himself agreeable. Though his passion was openly declared, no person 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 everywhere robbed him of himself: " Monsieur le Chevalier," said he, " metbinks that for some time you have left the town beauties and their lovers in per- fect repose : Mrs. Middleton makes fresh conquests with im- punity, and wears your presents, under 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. Monsieur 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 believe, you have not the least intention of seducing her : such is her birth and merit, that if you were in possession of the estate and title of your family, it might be excusable in you to offer yourself upon honourable 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. 158 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. "For your brother Toulongcon, whose disposition I am acquainted witli, will not have the complaisance to die, to favour 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 engagement ? Do you know that she has liad the choice of the best matches in England ? The Duke of Richmond paid his addresses to her first ; but though he was in love with her, stiQ ho was mercenary : how- ever, the king, observing that want of fortune was the only impediment 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 ; l)ut, resenting that a man, who pretended to be in love, should bargain like a merchant, and Uccwise reflecting upon his cliaracter 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 bmte and a debauchee. " Has not little Jermyn, notwithstanding his uncle's great estate, and his own bi'illiant reputation, faded in his suit to lier ? And has she ever so much as vouchsafed to look at Henry Howard,* who is upon the point of being the first duke in England, and who is already in actual possession of all the estates of the house of Norfolk ? I confess that he is a clown, but what other lady in aU England would not have dispensed with his stupidity and his disagreeable person, to be the first duchess in the kingdom, with twenty-five thousand a year? * This was Henry Howai-d, brother to Thom.is, Earl of Arundel, who by a special act of parliament, in 1664, was restored to the honours of the family, forfeited by the attainder of his auceator, in the time of Queen Elizabeth. Ou the death of his brother, in 1667, he became Duke of Norfolk, and died Jauuax'y 11, 1683-4, at his houae in Ai'uudel Street, aged 55. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 159 " To conclude. Lord Falmouth has told me himself, that he has always looked upon her as the only acquisition wanting to complete his happiness : hut, that even at the height of the splendour 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 obtain- ing 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 po&r philosopher," answered the Chevalier de Gram- mont, " 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 lu- minaries of the terrestrial globe, you are utterly unacquainted with them : you have told me nottiing 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 favour : 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 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, without my assistance,* • Couut de Toulongeon waa elder brother to Count Crammont, who, i6o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. and notwithstanding all Lis care ; and ]\Iis3 Hamilton -will havu Semeat,* "with the Chevalier de Grammont, as an indemni- fication for the Norfolks and Eichmonds. Now, have you any- thing to advance against this project ? For I will bet you an hundred louis, that everything will happen as I have fore- told it." A.t this time the king's attachment to Miss Stewart was so public, that every person perceived, that if she was but pos- sessed of art, she might become as absolute a mistress over his conduct as she was over his heart. This was a fine opportu- nity for those who had experience and ambition. The Duke of Buckingliam formed the design of governing her, in order to ingratiate himself with the king : God knows what a go- vernor 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 behaviour, and laughed at everything, and her taste for frivolous amusements, though unaffected, was only allowable in a girl about twelve or thirteen years old. A child, however, she was, in every other respect, except playing with a doU : blind man's buff was her most favourite amuse- ment: she was building castles of cards, while the deepest play was going on in her apartments, where you saw her sur- rounded by eager courtiers, who handed her the cards, or young architects, who endeavoured to imitate her. She had, however, a passion for music, and had some taste for singing. The Duke of Buckingham, who built the finest towers of cards imaginable, had an agreeable voice : she had by his death, in 1679, became, according to St. Evremond, on that event, one of the richest noblemen at court.— See iSt. Evremond's Works, vol. ii., p. 327. • A country seat belonging to the family of the Granimonta MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. i6i 110 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 turning 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 aU parts with so much grace and pleasantry, that it was difiicult 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 aU over the town to seek for him, when he did not attend the king to her apartments. He was extremely handsome,* and still thought himself * George Vi'liera, the second Duke of IBackiugliam, w.ia torn 30th January, IG^',, Lord Orford observes, "When this extraordinaiy man, with the figure and genius of Alcibiades, could equally charm the presbyterian Fairfax and the dissolute Charles ; -when he alike ridi- culed that witty king and his solemn chancellor : when he plotted the ruui of his country with a cabal of bad ministers, or, equally unprin- cipled, supported its cause with bad patriots, — one laments that such paits should have been devoid of every virtue : but when Alcibiades turns chemist f when he is a real bubble and a visionary miser ; when ambition is but a frolic ; when the worst designs are for the foolisheat ends, — contempt extinguishes all reflection on his character." " The portrait of this duke has been drawn by four masterly hands. Bmnet has hewn it out with his rough chisel ; Count Hamilton touched it with that slight delicacy that finishes while it seems but to sketch ; Diyden caught the living likeness ; Pope completed the historical resemblance." — 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 pecidiar 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 yeai-s he thought he was very near the finding the philosopher's stone, which had the effect that attends on all such men as he was, when they ai'e drawu in, to lay out for it. He had no principles of religiuu. t62 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. mucli more so than lie really was : although he had a great deal of discernment, yet his vanity made him mistake some civilities 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 execute 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 ascend- ency 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 conversation was as much avoided as ever it had been courted." — History of His Own Times, vol. i., p. 137. Dryden's character of him is in these limes : " 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 stai-ts, 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 tlunkiug. Blest madman, who could every hour employ With something new to wish or to enjoy I Bailing 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 unrewarded 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 ; MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 163 as intended for his person, which were only bestowed on his wit and drollery: in short, being seduced by too good an 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 Ahitophel. Pope describes the lasit 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 flock-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 chaug'd from him, That life of pleasure, and that soul of whim ! Gallant and gay, in Clieveden'a 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 hia health, of fortune, friends, And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends." Moral Essays, Epist. iii., 1. 299. He died 16th April, 1688, at the house of a tenant, at Kirby Mooi Side, near Helmsly, in Yorkshire, aged 61 years, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Though this note is already long, the reader will hardly complain at an extension of it, by the addition of one more character of this licen- tious nobleman, written by the able pen of the author of Hudibras. " The ipuke of Bucks is one that has studied the whole body of vice. His parts are disproportionate to the whole, and, like a monster, he has more of some, and less of others, than he should have. He has puUed down all that nature raised in him, and built himself up again after a model of hia own. He has dammed up all those lights that nature made into the noblest prospects of the world, and opened other little blind loop-holes backward, by turning day into night, and night into day. His appetite to his pleasures is diseased and crazy, like the pica in a woman, that longs to eat that which was never made for food, ur S i64 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. opinion of his own merit, lie 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 : however, the familiarity she had procured him with the king, opened the way to those favours to which he was afterwards advanced. a girl in the green sickness, that eats chalk and mortar. Perpetual surfeits of pleasure have filled his mind with had and vicious hnmonrs, (as well as his hody with a nursery of diseases,) which makes him affect new and extravagant ways, as being sick and tired with the old. Con- tinual wine, women, and music, put false value upon things, which, by custom, become habitual, and debauch his understandingso,thathe retains no right notion nor sense of things. And as the same dose of the same physio has no operation on those that are much used to it, so his plea- sures require larger proportion of excess and variety, to render him sensible of them. He rises, eats, and goes to bed by the Julian account, long after all others that go by the new style, and keeps the same hours with owls and the antipodes. He is a great observer of the Tartar customs, and never eats till tlie great cham, having dined, makes pro- clamation that all the world may go to dinner. He does not dwell in his house, but haunts it like an evil spirit, that walks all night, to dis- turb the family, and never appears by day. He lives perpetually be- nighted, runs out of his life, and loses bis time as men do their ways in the dark : and as blind men are led by their dogs, so is he governed by some mean ser\'^ant or other, that relates to his pleasures. He is as in- constant as the moon which he lives imder ; and although he does nothing but advise with his pillow all day, he is as great a stranger to himself as he is to the rest of the world. His mind entertains all things very freely that come and go, but, like guests and strangers, they are not welcome if they stay long. This lays hira open to all cheats, qnacks, and impostors, who apply to every partieolar humour while it lasts, and afterwards vanish. Thus, with St. Paul, though in a different sense, he dies daily, and only lives in the night. He deforms nature, while he intends to adorn her, jLikQ Indians that hang jewels in their lips and noses. His ears are perpetually drilled with a fiddlestick. He endures pleasures with less patience than other men do their pains.'— Builet'is Posthumous Works, voL ii, p. 72. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 165 Lord Arlington* took up the project wliicli the Duke of Buckingham had abandoned, and endeavoured to gain posses- sion of the mind of the mistress, in order to govern ihe master. A man of greater merit and higher birth than himself might, however, have been satisfied with the fortune he had already- acquired. His fijst negotiations 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, ia his exterior, the serious air and pro- found 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 plaister, in form of a lozenge. Scars in the face commonly give a man a certain fierce and * Henry Bennet, Eat-1 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 "supphed the place of extensive talents by aa 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 created an opioion of his moderation, that was ascribed to virtue. His facOity to adopt new measures was forgotten in his readiness to acknow- ledge the errors of the old. The deficiency of his integrity was for- given in the decency of his dishonesty. Too weak not to be supers Btitjoua, yet possessing too much sense to own his adherence to the church of Eome, 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, perhaps, suits affairs of state better than the violent exertions of men of great parts." — Oi-iginal Papers, vol. i Lord Arlington died July 28, 1685. See ? character of him in Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham's Works. i66 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. martial air, which sets Tiim off to advantage ; hut it was quite the contrary with him, and this remarkable plaister so well suited his mysterious looks, that it seemed au addition to his gra.^n.ty and self-sufficiency. Arlington, imder the mask of this compound countenance ■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. 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 herseK in the situation 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 ridiculous 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 ior a long time struggled to sup- press it. The fninister was enraged : his pride became his post, and his punctilious behaviour merited all the ridicule which could be a;ttached to it : he quitted her abruptly, with all the fine advice he had prepared for her, and was almost tempted to carry it to Lady 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 particulai'ly to propose an act to forbid the keeping of mis- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 167 tresses; but Ms prudence 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 to succeed in an enterprise, in which the Duke of Buckingham 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 Chester- field. 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 sentiments, was neither scrupulous in point of constancy, nor nice in point of sincerity. She was daughter to the Duke of Ormond,-f- and Hamilton, being her cousin-german, tbey might be as much as they pleased in each other's company without being particular ; but as soon as her eyes gave him some en- couragement, he entertained no other thoughts than how to * This lady was Isabella, daughter to Lewis de Nassau, Lord Beverwaert, son to Maurice, Prince of Orange, and Count Nassau. By her. Lord Arlington had an only daughter, named Isabella, who married, August 1, 1672, Henry, Earl of Euston, son to King Charles IL, by Barbara, Duchess of- Cleveland, created afterwaids Duke of Grafton; and, after his 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. t And second wife of the Earl of Chesterfield. She survived the adventures here related a very short time, dying in July, 1665, at the age of 25 years. i68 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. please her, without 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 favours ; but the eagerness of a passionate lover, blessed with favourable opportunities, is difficult to withstand, and still more difficult 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. 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 gloiy 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 Por- tuguese 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, * This happened in October, 1663. Lord Arlington, in a letter to the Duke of Ormond, dated the 17th of that month, says, " the con- dition of the queen is much worse, and the physicians give ua 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 OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 169 she told him, that the concern he showed for her death, was enough to make her quit life with regret ; but that not pos- sessing charms sufficient to merit his tenderness, 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 blessiag 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 supposing she would take him at his word, he conjured her to live for his sake. She had never yet dis- obeyed 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 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 whoUy possessed it. During this period the court was variously en- tertained: sometimes there were promenades, and at others the court beauties saUied out on horseback, and to make attacks with their charms and graces, sometimes successfully, sometimes otherwise, 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 mag- nificent palace of the kings of Great Britain :* from the stairs of this Dalace the court used to take water in the summer • This was Whitehall, which was burnt down, except the banquet- iug-house, 4th January, 1698.— See Harleian Miscellany, vol. vi p. 367, I70 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. cveningg, when the heat and dust prevented their -walking in the park : an infinite number of open hoats, filled with the court and city beauties, attended the barges, in ■which were the Eoyal Family : collations, music, and fireworks, completed the scene. The Chevalier 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 unexpected 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 ; some- times he gave banquets, which likewise came from Prance, and which, even in the midst of London, surpassed the king's collations. These entertainments sometimes exceeded, as others fell short of his expectations, 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, address- ing 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," con- tinued 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 171 are in no great haste : however, I am ordered hy the king, my master, to acquaint you, that while you remain here, until you are restored to the favour of your sovereign, he presents you with a pension of fifteen hundred Jacobus's : it is indeed a trifle, considering the figure the Chevalier de Grammont makes among us ; but it will assist him," said he, embraciag him, "to give us sometimes a supper." The Chevalier de Grammont received, as he ought, the offer of a favour he did not think proper to accept : " I ac- knowledge," said he, " the king's bounty in this proposal, but I am stni more sensible of Lord Falmouth's generosity in it ; and I request him to assure his Majesty of my perfect grati- tude : 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." At these words, he caUed for his strong box, and showed him seven or eight thousand guineas in solid gold. Lord Falmouth, willing to improve to the Chevalier's advantage the refusal of so advantageous an offer, gave Monsieur de Comminge,* then ambassador at the English court, an accoimt of it ; nor did Monsieur de Conaminge fail to represent pro- perly the merit of such a refusal to the French court. Hyde Park, every one knows, is the promenade of London :f * This gentleman was ambassador in Londen, from the court of France, during the years 1663, 1664, and 1665. Lord Glarendofl, speaking of him, describes him as something capricious in Ma 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 172 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. nothing was so much in fashion, during the fine weather, as that promenade, which was the rendezvous of magnificence and beauty : every one, therefore, who had either sparkling eyes, or a splendid equipage, constantly repaired thither; and the king seemed pleased with the place. Coaches with glasses* were then a late invention: the ladies were afraid of being shut up in them : they greatly preferred the pleasure of showing almost their whole persons, to the conveniences of modem coaches : that which was made field near thfl town, ■which they call Hyde Park ; the place is not uu- pleasant, and which they use as ovir course ; but with nothing of that order, equipage, and splendour ; being such an assembly of wretched jades, and hackney coaches, as, next a regiment 6f carmen, 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 Character of Englajnd, as it was lately presented to a Nobleman of France, 12mo, 1659, p. 54. * 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 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 man into amazement." Dr. Percy observes, they were first drawn by two hoises, and that it was the favourite Buckingham, who, about 1619, began to draw with six horses. About the same time, he intro- duced the sedan. Hie Uliimum Vale of John Garleton, 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 Taff bought for her in England, and sent it over to her, made of tJie new fashion, vdth glasse, very stately ; and her pages and lacq^oies were of the same livery,) was come iot me," &C. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 173 for the king not being remarkable for its elegance, the Cheva- lier 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 favour of Providence escaped the quicksand, in a month's time brought safely over to England the most elegant and mag- nificent calash that had ever been seen, which the Chevalier presented to the king. The Chevalier de Grammont had given orders that fifteen hundred louis should be expended upon it ; but the Duke of Guise, who was his friend, to oblige him, laid out two thou- sand. 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 biTn 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, 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 former union was turned into mortal hatred, the king was very much perplexed. Lady Castlemaine was with chUd, and threatened to mis- carryj if her rival was preferred; Miss Stewart threatened. 174 MKMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. that she never -would be mth cfldld, if her request was not granted. This menace prevailed, and Lady Castlemaine's rage was so great, that she had ahnost 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 circiunstance, she took occasion to joke with the Chevalier de Grammont, for having thrown this bone of con- tention 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 expense ? 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." " Madam," said he, " the Chevalier de Grammont hates pomp : my Hnk- boy, of whom you speak, is faithful to my service; 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 ia the night without being surrounded 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 White- hall, I had at least two hundred about my chair : the sight was new ; for those who had seen me pass with this illumina- tion, 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. valour. As for the parade of coaches and footnien, I despise it : I have sometimes had five or six valets-de-chambre MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. I7S at once, witliout having a single servant in livery, except my chaplain Poussatin." "How!" said the queen, bursting out laughing, " a chaplain in your livery 1 he surely was not a priest 1" " Pardon me, madam," said he, " and the first priest in the world for dancing the Biscayan jig." "Chevalier," said the Hng, "pray tell us the history of your chaplain Poussatin," CHAPTER EIGHTH. FUNNY ADVENTUKE OF THE CHAPLAIN POUSSATIN. — THE STOEY OF THE SIEGE OF LEMDA. — MARRIAGE OF THE DUKE OF YORK, AND OTHER DETAILS ABOUT THE ENGLISH COURT. iim," said the Chevalier de Grammont, "the Prince de Conde 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 Granada : he suffered us to make our first approaches to the place without the least molestation. The Marshal de Grammont, 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 Price's politeness as no good omen for us ; but the prince, covered with glory, and elated with the campaigns of Eocroy, Norlingueu, and Fri- bourg, to insult both the place and the governor, ordered the 179 i8o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. trenches to be mounted at noon-day by his own regiment, at the head of which marched four-and-twenty fiddlers, as if it had been to a wedding. "Mght approaching, we were all in high spirits: our violins were playing soft airs, and we were comfortably regaling our- selves : God knows how we were joking about the poor gov- ernor and his fortifications, both of which we promised our- selves 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 having filled up the trenches, pursued us as far as oxir grand guard. " The next day Gregorio Brice sent by a trumpet a present of ice and fruit to the Prince de Conde, humbly beseeching his highness to excuse his not returning the serenade which he was pleased to favour him with, as unfortunately he had no violins ; but that if the music of last night was not dis- agreeable to him, he would endeavour to continue it as long as he did him the honour 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 saUy, that cleared out trenches, destroyed our works, and killed the best of our offi- cers and soldiers. The prince was so piqued at it, that, con- trary to the opinion of the general officers, he obstinately persisted in carrying on a siege which was like to ruin his army, and which he was at last forced to quit in a hiUTy. " As our troops were retiring, Don Gregorio, far from giving himseK those airs which governors generally do on such oc- casions, made no other sally, than sending a respectful com- pliment to the prince. Signer Brice set out not long after for Madrid, to give an account of his conduct, and to receive the MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. i8i recompense he had merited. Your majesty perhaps mil be desirous to know what reception poor Brice met with, after having performed the most brilliant action the Spaniards could boast of in aU the war — ^he was confined by the inquisition." " How !" said the Queen Dowager, " confined by the inqui- sition 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 mentioned for a little affair of gallantry, which I shall relate to the King presently. " The campaign of Catalonia being thus ended, we were re- turning home, not overloaded with laurels ; but as the Prince de Condt^ 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 Lerida, which were sung aU over Prance, ia order to prevent others more severe ; however, we gained nothing by it, for notwithstanding we treated ourselves freely in our own ballads, others were com- posed in Paris in which we were ten 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 Poussatia, in a little black jacket, danced in the middle of this company, as if he was really mad. I immediately recognized him for my countryman, from his manner of skipping and frisking about: the prince was charmed with his humour and activity. After the dance, I sent for him, and inquired who he was : ' A poor priest, at your service, 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 i82 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ■well on foot ; but since the war is happily concluded, if youi lordship pleases to take me into your service, I would follow you everywhere, and serve you faithfully.' ' Monsieur Pous- satin,' said I, ' my lordship has no great occasion for a chap- lain ; but since" you are so well disposed towards me, I will take you into my service.' . " The Prince de Cond4 who was present at this conver- sation, 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'a servants, I made him get up behind the prince's coach, who was like to die with laugliing every time he looked at pooi Poussatin 's uncanonical mien in a yellow livery. " As soon as we arrived in Paris, the story was told to the Queen, who at first expressed some surprise at it : this, how- ever, did not prevent her from wishing to see my chaplaia dance; for iu 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 odour 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 informed that Poussatin preached with the same ease in his village as he danced at the wedding of his parishioners." ^' The King was exceedingly diverted at Poussatin's history ; and the Queen was not much hurt at liis having been put in MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 183 livery: the treatment of Gregorio Brice offended her far more ; and being desirous to justify the coiirt 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 in- deed ; but poor Brice meant no harm : a school-boy 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 adven- ture ; and the GhevaJier gratified his curiosity, as soon as the Queen and the rest of the court were out of hearing. It was very entertaining to hear him tell a story ; but it was very disagreeable to differ with him, either in competition, or in raiUery : it is true that at that time there were few per- sons at the English court who had merited his indignation : EusseU was sometimes the subject of his ridicule, but he treated him far more tenderly than he usually did a rivaL This EusseU was one of the most furious dancers in aU England, I mean, for country dances : he had a collection 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 fuU twenty years. The Chevalier de Grammont was very sensible that he was very much in love ; but though he saw very weU that it only rendered him more ridiculous, yet he felt some concern at the i84 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. information he received, of Ms intention of demanding Miss Hamilton in marriage ; but his concern did not last long. Eussell, being upon the point of setting out on a journey, thought it was proper to acquaint his mistress Avith his inten- tions 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, EusseU seized the opportumty, and addressing himself to Miss Hamilton, with less embarrassment than is usual on such occasions, he made his declaration to her in the following manner: "I am brother to the Earl of Bedford: I command 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 without the other, and therefore I put them together. I am advised to go to some of the watering places for something of an asthma, which, in all probabOity, caimot continue much longer, as I have had it for these last twenty years : if you look upon me as worthy of the happiness of belonging to you, I shall propose it to your father, to whom I did not thinlr it right to apply before I was acquainted with your sentiments : my nephew WiUiam 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 attach- ment. 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 coquet Middleton, while at present he is at no expense, though he frequents the beat company in England." MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 185 Miss Hamilton had much difficulty to suppress her laughter during this harangue : however, she told him that she thought herself much honoured by his intentions towards her, and still more obliged to him for consulting her, before he made any overtures to her relations : " It will be time enough," said she, "to speak to them upon the subject at your return 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 particulars of this conversation, endeavoured, as well as he could, to be entertained with it ; though there were certain circumstances in the declaration, notwithstanding the absurdity of others, which did not fail to give bim some uneasiness. Upon the whole, he was not sorry for EusseU's departure ; and, assuming an air of pleasantry, he went to relate to the king how Heaven had favoured him by delivering him from so dan- gerous a rival. " He is gone then. Chevalier," said the king. " Certainly, sir," said he ; "I had the honour to see biTn em- bark in a coach, with his asthma, and country equipage, his perruque k calotte, neatly tied with a yellow riband, and his old-fashioned hat covered with oil skin, which becomes him uncommonly well: therefore, I have only to contend with William Eussell, 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, T have it i86 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. easily in my power to counteract him in such kind of favours, though I confess I have pretty well paid for them." " Since your affairs proceed so prosperously with the Eus- Bells," said the king, " I will acquaint you that you are de- livered from another rival, much more dangerous, if he were not already married: my brother has lately fallen in love with Lady Chesterfield." " How many blessings at once !" exclaimed the Chevalier de Grammout : " I have so many obligations to him for this inconstancy, that I would wil- lingly serve him in his new amour, if namillon was not his rival : nor will your majesty tal^e it ill, if I promote the in- terests of my mistress's brother, rather than those of your majesty's brother." " Ilamilton, however," said the king, " does not stand so much in need of assidtance, 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 sufl'er men to quarrel about his wife, with the same patience as the com- plaisant Shrewsbmy ; 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 indif- ferent shape, and a worse air ; he was not, however, deficient in wit : a long residence in Italy had made liim ceremonious in his commerce with men, and jealous in his connection with women : he had been much hated by the king ; because he * Philip, the second Earl of CheBterfielJ. He was constituted, in 3662, lord-chamberlain to the queen, and colonel of a regiment of foot, June 13, 1667. On November 29, 1C79, he was appointed lord-warden and chief-justice of the ting'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 pre- ferments, 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, iu Eloomsbury-square. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 187 had been much beloved by Lady Castlemaine : it was re- ported 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 Castlemaine, and the ad- vancement he expected from such an alliance, made him press the match with as much ardour as if he had been passionately in love : he had therefore married Lady Chesterfield without loving her, and had lived some time with her iti such cool- ness as to leave her no room to doubt of his indifference. As she was endowed with great sensibility and delicacy, she suffered at this contempt : she was at first much affected with his behaviour, 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 re- maining tenderness for Lady Castlemaine. For her it was no difficult undertaking: the conversation of the one was dis- agreeable, from the unpolished state of her manners, her ill- timed pride, her uneven temper, and extravagant humours : Lady Chesterfield, on the contrary, knew how to heighten her charms with all the bewitching attractions in the power of a woman to invent who wishes to make a conquest. Besides all this, she had greater opportunities of making 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 cold- ness, or rather the disgust which she showed for her husband's returning affection, wakened his natural inclination to jealousy: 1 88 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 industry, in order to make a discovery, which was to destroy his own happiness. Hamilton, who knew his disposition, was, on the other hand, upon his guard, and the more he advanced in his in- trigue, the more attentive was he to remove every degree of suspicion from the Earl's miud : he pretended to make him his confidant, in the most unguarded and open manner, of his passion for Lady Castlemaine : 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, pro- mised him his protection with greater siucerity than it had been demanded: Hamilton, therefore, was no further em- barrassed than to preserve Lady Chesterfield's reputation, who, in his opinion, declared herself rather too openly in his favour : but whUst 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 receiving those of the Duke of York ; and, what is more, made them favourable returns. He thought that he had perceived it, as well as every one besides ; but he thought likewise, that all the world was de- ceived as well as himself: how could he trust his own eyes, as to what those of Lady Chesterfield betrayed for this new rival ? He could not think it probable, 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 189 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 teUing 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 re- proaches 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 had found out the happy lover who had gained possession of his lady's heart, he was satisfied ; and without teasiag 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 Lady Chesterfield's con- duct, 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 mto the particulars of this adventure, let us take a retrospect of the amours of his Eoyal Highness, prior to the declaration of his marriage, and particularly of what immediately preceded this declaration. 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 excusable : let us see then how those things happened. The Duke of York's marriage,* with the chancellor's * The material facts in this narrative are confirmed by Lord Claren- ipo MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 opportunity of declaring it with splendour ; but when he saw himself enjoying a rank which placed him so near the throne ; when the possession of Miss Hyde afforded him no new charms ; when England, so aboimding iia beauties, 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 elevation, had descended so low, he began to reflect upon it. On the one hand, his marriage appeared to liim particularly ill suited in every respect : he recollected that Jermyn had not engaged him in an intimacy with Miss Hyde, until he had convinced him, by several different 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 im- possibility 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 don. — Continuation of his Life, p. 33. It is difficult 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, ail men of honovr- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. igi presented themselves; and still more than that, he felt a remorse of conscience, the scruples of ■which begaa from that time to rise tip against himo In the midst of this perplexity he opened his heaxt to Lord Falmouth, and consulted with him what method he ought to pursue : He could not have applied to a hetter 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 consent, even if the party was a suitable match : but that it was a mere jest, even to think of the daughter of an insignificant lawyer, whom the favour 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 with her ; and provided he did not teU them that he really was married, he would soon have suffi- cient 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 Eoyal Highness's cabinet, after having instructed them how to act : these gentlemen were the Earl of Arran, Jermyn, Talbot, and KiUegrew, all men of honour ; but who infinitely preferred the Duke of York's interest to Miss Hyde's repu- tation, 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 bis affection for Miss 192 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Hyde, yet they miglit be unacquainted with the engagements his tenderness for her had induced him to contract j that he thought himself obliged to perform all the promises he had made her ; but as the imiocence 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 conjured them as his friends, and charged them upon their duty, to tell him siacerely everything they knew upon the subject, since he was resolved to make their evidence the rule of his conduct towards her. They aU 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 iu- 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 iu the gallery at Honslaerdyk, where the Countess of Ossory, his sister-in-law, and Jermyn, were playing at niae-pins. Miss Hyde, pretending to be sick, retired to a chamber at the end of the gallery; that he, the deponent, had followed her, and having cut her lace, to give a greater probability to the pretence of the vapours, 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 fcJl 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. MEMQIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 193 Jermyn mentioned many places where he had received long and favourable audiences : however, aU these articles of accu- sation amounted only to some delicate familiarities, 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 honour of being upon the most intimate terms with her: he was of a sprightly and witty humour, and had the art of telling a story in the most entertaining manner, by the grace- ful 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 wit- nesses to his happiness, and might perhaps have been wit- nesses 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 sUent for the future upon what they had been telling him, and imme- diately passed into the King's apartment. As soon as he had entered the cabinet, Lord 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 unfavourable for poor Miss Hyde. Lord Falmouth began to be affected for her disgrace, and to relent that he had been concerned in it. when the 194 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 liimself to announce such a melancholy piece of news : they found his Eoyal Highness at the appoiated hour in Miss Hyde's chamber: a few tears trickled down her cheeks, which she endeavoured to restrain. The chancellor, leaning against the wall, appeared to them to be puffed up with some- thing, 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 honour of paying your compliments to the Duchess of York : there she is." Surprise was of no use, and astonishment was unseasonable on the present occasion : they were, however, so greatly pos- sessed 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 embarrassed. Women are seldom accustomed to forgive injuries of this nature ; and, if they promise themselves the pleasure of re- venge, 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 showing the MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 195 least resentmenb, studied to distinguish, by all manner of kindness and good offices, those who had attacked her in so sensible a part; nor did she ever mention it to. them, but in order to praise their zeal, and to teU them : " that nothing was a greater proof of the attachment of a man of honour, than his beLug more solicitous 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 philo- sophy among the men. The Duke of York, having quieted his conscience by the declaration of his marriage, thought that he was entitled, by this generous effort, to give way a little to his inconstancy : he therefore immediately seized upon whatever he could first lay liis hands upon : this was Lady Carnegy,* who had been in several other hands. She was stUl tolerably handsome, and her disposition, naturally inclined to tenderness, did not oblige her new lover long to languisL Everything coin- cided with their wishes for some time : Lord Carnegy, her husband, was in Scotland ; but lus father dying suddenly, he as suddenly 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 intimation had been given him of the honour that was done him in his absence : nevertheless, he did not show his jealousy at first ; but, as he was desirous to be satisfied 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 * Anne, daughter of William, Duke of Hauilton, and wife of Eobert Carnegy, Earl of Southesk. 19$ MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. maintain some decorum : he therefore never went to hei house, but in form, that ia to say, always accompanied by some friend or other, to give his amours at least the ap- pearance of a visit. About this time Talbot* returned from Portugal: this connection had taken place during his absepce ; and without knowing who Lady Southesk was, he had been informed 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 beiag introduced, and some compliments liaving been paid on both sides, he thought it his duty to give his Eoyal 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 forgetftdness, 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 tiU 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, with- out being in the least concerned at it, and still less, at a man whom he saw get out of it, and whom he immediately heard coming upstairs. 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 Eoyal Highness's equipage had been sent home, because my lady had assured him that her hus- • Af tervrards Duke of Tyrcomiel, — See note on p. 222. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 197 band was gone to see a bear and a bull baiting, an entertain- ment in •whicli 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 company 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 hiTn 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 business brought you here ? Do you likewise wish to see Lady 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, therefore, attended hhn downstairs as his friend; and, as his humble servant, advised him to seek for a mistress elsewhere. 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 pleasure 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 igS MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. a reyenge,* whereby, without using either assassination or poison, he 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 revenge 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 industriously prepared. Lady Robarts"f was then in the zenith of her glory ; her * Bishop Burnet, taking notice of the Duke of York's amours, says, " a story was set about, and generally believed, that the Earl of South- esk, that had married a daughter of the Duke of Hamilton's, 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 tiU it came to the duchess, lord Southesk was, for some years, not iU pleased to have this believed. It looked like a peculiar strain of revenge, with which he seemed much jlelighted. But I know he has, to some of his friends, denied the whole of the story very solemnly." — History nf His Own Times, vol. L,p. 319. It is worthy of notice that the passage in the text was omitted in most editions of Grammont, and retained in that of Strawberry-hUl, in 1772. t Lord Orford says, this lady was Sarah, daughter of John BodviUe of Bodville castle, in Caernarvonshire, wife of Robert Bobai-ts, who died in the lifetime of his father, and was eldest son of John, Earl of Itaduor. This, however, may be doubted. There was no Earl of Radnor 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 qualities here enumerated, particularly his age, moroseness, &c., will be found to agree. Supposing this to be admitted, the lady will be Isabella, daughter of Sir John Smith Knight, second wife of the above John, Lord Robarts, whose character is thus pourtrayed by Lord Clarendon : — " Though of a good understanding, he was of so morose a nature, that it was no easy matter to treat with him. He had some pedantic MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 199 beauty was striking ; yet, notwithstanding the brightness 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 difficulties, almost insurmountable, had not disappointed his good intentions : Lord Eobarts, 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 Eoyal 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 render 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 Eobarts, who was so worthy of being at court, was not received into some considerable post, either parts of learning, which made his other parts of jadgment the worst. He was naturally proud and imperious, which humour 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 bom and bred in Cornwall. When lord-deputy in Ireland, he received the information of the chief persons there so negligently, and gave his 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 ofif 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 humours 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." •^—CorUinuation of Clarendon, p. 102. 20O MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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. 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 allure- ments ; he was deaf to aU their temptdtions, 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 barrenness, 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 engaged in those of love ; but his taste having undergone a change in this particular, and the remembrance of Lady Eobarts 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 adventures. The Earl of Bristol,* ever restless and ambitious, had put * George Digby. The account here given of the practices of thi^ Tioble- man 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 uuto him, and MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 201 in practice every art, to possess himself of the king's favour. 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 himseK 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 commencement, was be- ginning 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 humour, 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 dis- continue her advances. The king did not even dare to think contriving such meetings and jollities as lie was pleoeed with." — Con- tinuation of his Life, p. 208. Lord Orford sajs of him, that " his life -was one contradiction. He wrote against popery, and embraced ic ; he was a zealous opposer of the court, and a sacrifice to it ; was conscien- tiously converted in the midst of his prosecution of Lord Strafford, and was most unconscientioualy a prosecutor of Lord Clarendon. With great parts, he alwajrs hurt himself and his friends ; with romantic bravery, he was always an unsuccessful commander. He spoke for the Test Act, though a Koman Catholic, and addicted himself to astrology on the birthday of true philosophy."— Catalogue of Royal arid Noble Authors, vol ii, p. 25. The histories of England abound with the adventures of this inconsistent nobleman, who died, neither loved nor regretted by any party, in the year 1676, 202 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. any more on this subject ; but his brother was pleased to look after what he neglected ; and Miss Erook accepted the offer of his heart, until it pleased heaven to dispose of her otherwise, which happened soon after in the foUowing manner. Sir John Denham,* loaded with wealth as well as years, had passed his youth in the midst of those pleasures which people at that age indulge in without restraint ; he was one of the brightest geniuses England ever produced, for wit and humour, 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 matri- * Tliat Sir Jolin 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 author is to be relied on, Wood's account of the date of his birth, 1615, must bo 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 at- tained the age of more than fifty-three when he died. In this particular,' I am inclined to doubt the accuracy of Wood, who omits to mention that Sir John had a former wife, by whom he had a daughter. In the yfiar 1667, he appears to have been a lunatic, either real or feigned. Lord Lisle, in a letter to Sir William Temple, dated September 26th, says, " — poor Sir John Denham is fallen to the ladies also. He is at many of the meetings at dinners, talks more than ever he did, and is extremely pleased with those that seem willing to hear him, and, from that obligation, exceedingly praises the Duchess of Monmouth and my Lady Cavendish, If he had not the name of being mad, I believe, in most companies, he would be thought wittier than ever he was. Ha Beems to have few extravagances besides that of telling stories of hiin- Belf, which he is always inclined to. Some of his acquaintance say, that extreme vanity was the cause of his madness, as well as it is an eflFect" — Temple's Works, vol. i, p. 484. In Butler's Posthumous Works, vol. ii, p. 155, is an abuse of Sir John Denham, under the title of " a Panegyric upon his recovery from his Madness."" Sir John died 19th March, 1668, and was buried in Westminster-abbey. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 203 mony ; aud, as if lie wished to coufinn, by Ids own example, tlie truth of what he had written iu his youth, he married, at the age of seventy-nine, this Miss Brook of whom we are speaJdng, who was only eighteen. The Duke of York had rather neglected her for some time before ; hut the cii-cumstance of so unequal a match rekindled his ardour ; and she, on her part, suffered hiiTi to entertaia hopes of an approaching bliss, which a thousand considerations had opposed before her mai'riage : she wished to belong to the court ; and for the promise of being made lady of the bed- chamber to the duchess, she was upon the point of making him another promise, or of immediately performing it, if re- quired, when, in the middle of this ti'eaty, Lady 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 assembhes, she was imder the necessity of making the most extravagant advances, in order to seduce him from his former connection ; and as he was the most un- guarded ogler of his time, the whole court was informed of the intrigue before it was well begun. Those who appeared the most attentive to their conduct were not the least interested in it. Hamilton and Lord Ches- terfield 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 bitter- aess. Hamilton had hitherto flattered himself that vanity alone had engaged Lady Chesterfield ia 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 consequence; 204 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. for though perhaps the heart takes no part 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 poUteness and mag- nificence which the incHnatioris of a prince naturally addicted to tenderness and pleasure, could suggest : the beauties were desirous of charming, and the men endeavoured 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 fuU of grace and tenderness, that he would have given harmony to the most discordant instruments. The truth is, nothing was so difficult 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 toler- ably well, and the Earl of Arran like Prancisco himself. This Francisco had composed a saraband, which either charmed or infatuated every person ; for the whole guitarery at court were tiying at it; and God knows what an universal strumming there was. The Duke of York, pretending not to be perfect in it. desired Lord Arran to play it to him. Lady Chesterfield had the best guitar in England. The Earl of Arran, who was desirous of playing his best, conducted his Eoyal 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 tliat tliey found both MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 205 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 vapour, now seized upon his brain : a thousand suspicions, blacker than ink, took possession of his imagination, and were continually increasing ; 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 perfection : Lady Chesterfield found fault with the composition ; 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 honour to be chamber- lain to the queen, a messenger came to require his immediate attendance on her majesty. His first thought was to pretend sickness : the second to suspect that the queen, who sent for him at such an unseasonable time, was in the plot ; but at last, after all the extravagant ideas of a suspicious man, and all the irresolutions of a jealous husband, he was obliged to go. We may easily imagine what his state of mind was when he arrived at the palace. Alarms are to the jealous what disas- ters 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 tho Muscovites, when his brother-in-law appeared, and drew upon himself all the imprecations he bestowed upon the embassy : 2o6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 him- seK 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 infidelity ; 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 honourable officious- ness of his brother-in-law. He passed, however, that night with tranquUlity ; but the next morning, being reduced to the necessity 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, imagining that people guessed at the subject of his uneasiness : he avoided every- body, but at length meeting with Hamilton, he thought he was the very man that he wanted ;. and, having desired h\m to take an airing with him in Hyde Park, he took Tn'm up in his coach, and they arrived at the Eing, without a word having passed between them. Hamilton, who saw him as yeUow as jealousy itself, and particularly thoughtful, imagined that he had justdiscovered what all the world had perceived long before ; when Chester- field, after a broken, insignificant preamble, asked him how he succeeded with Lady Castlemaine. Hamilton, who very well saw that he meant nothing by this question, nevertheless thanked Tn'm ; and as he was thinking of an answer : " Tour cousin," said the earl, "is extremely coquettish, and I have some reason to suppose she is not so prudent as she ought to be." Hamilton thought the last charge a little too severe; MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 207 and as lie was endeavouring to refute it: "Good God 1" 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 ahout those affairs that concern them the most ; but they are not always the last to perceive it themselves Qthough you have made me your confidant in other matters, yet I aia not at all surprised you have concealed this from me ; but as I flatter myself with having some share in yoiir 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 sentiments : nevertheless, I find that afiairs are now carried on with such barefaced boldness, that at length I find I shall be forced to take some course or other. G od forbid that I should act the ridiculous part of a jealous husband: 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 ouglit to sit down unconcerned, or whether I ought to take measures for tho preservation of my honour. " His royal highness honoured mc yesterday by a visit to my wife." Hamiltonstarted 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 advance- ment can he expect from one who employs him in such base services? "But we have long known him to be one of the sUliest creatures in England, with his guitar, and his other whims and foUies." Chesterfield, after this short sketch of his brother-in-law's merit, began to relate the observations he had made during the visit, and asked Hamilton what he thought of his cousin Arran, who had so obligingly left them together. " This may appear surprising to you," continued he, "but hear 2o8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT me out, and judge whether I have reason to thinic 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 her- self: you Imow she has ugly feet; but perhaps you are not acquainted that she has still worse legs." " Pardon me," said Hamilton, within himself: and the other contiauing the des- cription : " Her legs," said his lordship, " are short and thick ; and, to remedy these defects as much as possible, she seldom wears any other than green stockings." Hamilton could not for his Hfe 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 damned Muscovites: 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 appear- ance 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 shewed her leg above the knee. Some were ready to prostrate them- selves, 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 slender, and that as for himself he would give nothing for a leg that was not thicker and shorter, and concluded by 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." MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 209 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 appear- ances 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 liberties to engage him : but in vain was it that he endeavoured to give that consolation to his friend which he did not feel himself. Chesterfield plainly perceived 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 formerly was accus- tomed to write to her : reproaches, bitter expostulations, ten- derness, menaces, and all the effusions of a lover who thinks he has reason to complain, composed 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 heai-fc 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 disarmed him, and he would have given his life to have had his letter again. It appeared to biTn at this instant that aU the grievances he complained of were visionary and groundless : he looked upon her hus- band as a madman and an impostor, and quite the reverse of what he supposed him to be a few minutes before ; but this remorse came a little too late : he had delivered his billet, 210 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. and Lady Chesterfield had shewn such impatience and eager- ness 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 cul- pable 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 downcast looks, and appeared in such terrible embarrassment that his condi- tion 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 are 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 believe 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 puzzhng 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 biUet in question ; and as he had perceived nothing severe or angry in the conversation he had with her, he has- tened to open her letter, and read as follows : " Tour transports are so ridiculous that it is doing you a favour 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 an idea of the per- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 211 son 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 1 Is it possible that the story of the green stockings, upon which he has founded his suspicions, should have imposed 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 ine, 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 danger- ous man of the court." Hamilton was ready to weep for joy at these endearing 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 biUet 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 mucL How difierent was this letter from the other I Though perhaps not so well written ; for one does not show so much wit in suing for pardon, as in venting reproaches, and it seldom happens that the soft lan- guishing 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 Lady Chesterfield, to make him as easy as he had before been distrustful, ex- 212 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. pressed on every occasion a feigned contempt for his liral, and a sincere aversion for her husband. So great was his confidence in her, that he consented she shotdd show in public some marks of attention to the duke, in order to conceal as much as possible their private intelli- gence. Thus, at this time nothing disturbed his peace of mind, but his impatience of finding a favourable 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 endeavour- ing 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 execution, accident discovered an un- expected adventure, which left him no room to doubt, either of the happiness of his rival, or of the perfidy of his mistress. Misfortunes often fall light when most feared; and frequently prove heaviest when merited, and when least suspected. Hamilton was in the middle of the most tender and pas- sionate letter he had ever written to Lady Chesterfield, when her husband came to announce to bim the particulars of this last discovery : he came so suddenly upon him, that he had only just time to conceal his amorous epistle among his other papers. His heart and mind were still so full of what he was writing to his cousin, 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 accounts. He was, however, obliged to listen to him, and he 8oon entertained quite different sentiments : he appeared almost MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 213 petrified •with astonisluneiit, ■while the eaxl was relating to him ciicumstances of such an extravagant indiscretion, as seemed to him quite incredible, notwithstanding the par- ticulars of the fact, " You have reason to be surprised at it," said my lord, concluding his story ; " but if you doubt the truth of what I teU you, it will be easy for you to find evidence that will convince you ; for the scene of their tender fanailiarities was no less public 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 thoughtwould pass unperceived inthe crowd; and you may very well judge how secret she would keep such a circumstance. The truth is, she addressed herself to me first of all, as I entered the room, to tell me that I should give my ■wife a little ad'vice, as other people might take notice of what I might see myself, 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 become 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 Lady Denham had quitted : the duke turning roimd perceived me, and was so much disturbed at my presence, that he almost imdressed my lady in pulling away his hand. I know not whether they perceived that they ■were discovered ; but of this I am conAonced, that Lady Denham wiU take care that everybody shall know it. I must confess to you, that my embarrassment is so great, that I cannot find words to ex- press what I now feel : I should not hesitate one moment what course to take, if I might be allowed to show my re- sentment against the person who has •wronged me. As for her, I could manage her well enough, if, unworthy as she is of any consideration, I had not stiU. some regard for an illus- 214 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. trious family, that ■would be distracted were I to resent such an injury as it deserves. In this particular you are inte- rested yourself: you are my friend, and I make you my confidant in an affair of the greatest imaginable delicacy : let us then consult together what is proper to be done in so per- plexing and disagreeable a situation." Hamilton, if possible, more astonished, and more con- founded than himself, was far from being in a proper state to afford 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 exaggeration ia the charges against Lady Chesterfield, he desired her husband to suspend his resolutions, until he was more fuUy informed of the fact ; assuring him, however, that if he found the circumstances such as he had related, he should regard and consult no other interest than his. Upon tills they parted ; and Hamilton found, on the first inquiry, thai 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 occa- sions ; but he was too much enraged to enter into any detail which might have led to an explanation: he considered him- self as the only person essentially injured 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 Lord Chesterfield, in the transport of his passion, and told him that he had heard enough to induce MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. sij Lim to give such advice, as he should follow himself 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, which he had already considered as the only counsel a friend could give hiTTi ; 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 per- ceived that he was in earnest: she knew from the air and maimer of her husband that he thought he had sufficient reason to treat her in this imperious style ; and finding all her relations serious and cold to her complain|;, she had no hope left in this universally abandoned situation but in the tender- ness of Hamilton. She imagined she should hear from him the cause of her misfortimes, of which she was still totally igno- rant, and that his love would invent some means or other to prevent a journey, which she flattered herself would be even more afTecting to him than to herself; but she was expecting pity from a crocodile. At lasti when she saw the eve of her departure was come, that every preparation was made for a long journey; that she was receiving farewell visits in form, and that still she heard nothing irora Hamilton, both her hopes and her patience for- sook her in this wretched situation. 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 2 A 2i6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. satisfaction. Hamilton's conduct on this occasion appeared to her unaccountable ; 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 ciime I am treated Hke a slave, suffer me to be dragged from society ? What means your silence and indolence in a juncture wherein your tender- ness ought most particularly to appear, and actively exert itself ? I am upon the point of departing, and am ashamed to think that you are the cause of my looking upon it with horror, 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 wil- derness ? and on what account you, hke all the rest of the world, appear changed in your behaviour 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 imworthy of her tenderness." This billet did but harden his heart, and mate 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 departure were on account of another person: he felt uncommon 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 in- difference which he did not even endeavour to conceal from her : this unexpected treatment, joined to the complication of her other misfortunes, had almost in reality plunged her into despair. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 217 The court was filled with the story of this adventure ; nohody was ignorant of the occasion of this sudden departure, 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 en- deavoured, however, to excuse poor Lord Chesterfield, as far as they could safely do it, without incxirring the public odium, by laying all the blame on his bad education. This made all the 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. CHAPTEK NINTH. VARIOUS LOVE INTEIGUES AT THE ENGLISH COUKT. VEEY man who believes that his honour depends upon that of his wife is a fool who torments him- self, and drives her to despair ; bijt he who, being naturally jealous, has the additional misfortune of loving his wife, and who "expects that she should only Kve for him, is a perfect madman, whom the torments of hell have actually taken hold of in this world, and whom nobody pities. AU reasoning and observation on these unfortunate circum- stances attending wedlock concur in this, that precaution is vaii;i and useless before the evil, and revenge odious afterwards. The Spaniards, who tyrannise over their wives, more by custom than from jealousy, content themselves with preserving the niceness of their honour by duennas, grates, and locks. 22 1 222 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. The Italians, who are wary in their suspicions, 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 hy 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 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 peace- ful days, in all the enjoyments of domestic indolence ! It was certainly some evil genius that induced Lord Ches- terfield 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 ornaments she was supposed to have be- stowed upon him, God only knows what a terrible attack there was made upon his rear : Rochester,* Middlesex.f Sed- ley, J Etheredge, § and all the whole band of wits, exposed * Bishop Burnet says, he " was naturally modest, till the court cor- rupted 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 223 him in numlDerless ballads, and diverted the public at bis expense. libels. He found out a footmen that knew all the court ; and ■ he fur- nished him with a red coat and a musquet, as a sentinel, and kept him all the winter long, every night, at the doors of such ladies as he be- lieved might be in intrigues. In the court, 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 feU into an ill habit of body, and, in set fits of sickness, he had deep remorses ; for he was guOty both of much impiety and of great immoralities. But as he recovered, he threw these off, and turned again to his for- mer iU courses. In the last year of his life, I was much with him, and have written a took of what passed hetweeu 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 Eochester died July 26, 1680. f 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 24th, 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 diflBculties, 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 favourite, he would not give himself the trouble that belonged to that post. He hated the court, and despised 2 24 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONTl 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 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, t]>at "he was the finest gentleman of the voluptuous court of Charlea 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 he did not know how it waa, 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 hie 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, 1706-6. J 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 j but he was not so correct as Lord Dorset, nor so sparkling as Lord Kochester." — History of his Own Times, voL L, p. 372. He afterwards took a more serious turn, and was active against the reigning family at the Bevolution ; to which he was probably urged by the dishonour brought upon his daughter, created Countess of Dorchester by King James H. Lord Rochester's lines on his powers of seduction axe well known. He died 20th August, 1701. § Sir George Etheridge, author of three comedies, was bom about the year 1636. He was, in James tlie Second's reign, employed abroad; first as envoy to Hamburgh, and afterwards as minister at Eatisbon, where he died, about the time of the Revolution. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 225 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; whUe here there are a thousand ladies who are left at liberty to do whatever they please, and who indulge in that liberty, andwhoseconduct.in short, deserves a daily bastinado. I name no person, God forbid I should ; but Lady Middleton, Lady Denham, the q^ueen's and the duchess's maids of honour, and a hundred others, bestow their favours to the right and to the left, and not the least notice is taken of their conduct. As for Lady 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 Eome 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 t3Tanny, al- together unknown 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 con- trary, very often a woman, who had no bad intentions when she was suffered 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 Trancisco's saraband says on the subject : " Tell me, jealous-pated swain, What avail thy idle arts. To divide uuited hearts ? Love, like the wind, I trow, Will, where it listeth, blow ; So, prithee, peace, for all thy cares are vain. 226 MEMOIRS OF COUXT GRAMMONT, " When you are by, Nor wishful look, lie sure, nor eloqtiBnt sigh. Shall dare those inward fire3 disoover, "Which hurn in either lever ; Tet Argus' self, if Argus were thy spy, Should ne'er, with all his mob of eyes. Surprise. "Some joys forbid Jen, Transports hidden. Which love, through dark and secret wa)^, Mysterious love, to kindred souls conveys." The Chevalier de Grammout passed for the author of this sonnet : neither the justness of the sentiment, nor turn of it, are surprisingly heautiful ; hut as it contained some truths that flattered the genius of the nation, and pleased those who in- terested themselves for the fair sez, the ladies were all desirous of having it to teach their children. During aU this time the Duke of York, not heing in the way of seeing Lady Chesterfield, easily forgot her : her ahsence, however, had some circumstances attending it which could not tut sensibly affect the person who had occasioned her confine- ment ; hut there axe certaiu fortunate tempers to which every situation is easy ; they feel neither disappointment with bit- terness, nor pleasure with acuteness. In the mean time, as the duke could not remain idle, he had no sooner forgotten Lady Chesterfield, 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 London a celebrated portrait-painter called Lely,* who had greatly improved himself by studying the • Sir Peter Lely was bom at Soest, in Westphalia, 1617, and came to EJDgland in 1641. Lord Orford observes, " If Vandyke's portraits are often tame and spiritless, at least they are natural; his laboured draperies MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 227 famous Vandyke's pictures, which were 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, Lely painted them, and employed all his sHU in the performance ; nor could he ever exert him- self upon more beautiful subjects. Every picture appeared a master-piece ; and that of Miss Hamilton appeared the highest iSnished: 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 the Chevalier de Grammont, Lady 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 prosper- flow with ease, and not a fold but is placed with propriety. Lely supplied the want of taste with clinquant : his nymphs trail fringes and em- broidery 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 improTed 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 Hamilton." — Anecdotes 0/ Painting, vol. iiL, p. 27. Sir Peter Lely died 168(X and was buried in St. Paul's, Covent Garden, 2 B 228 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. - ously on one side ; yet, I know not wliat fatality obstructed the pretensions of the other. The duke was very urgent with the duchess to put Lady 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 deskes ; yet, in the present instance, it appeared hard and dis- honourable 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 for ever 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 sus- picious, and found that he had sufficient ground for such con- duct : his wife was young and handsome, he old and disagree- able : what reason then had he to flatter himself that Heaven would exempt him from the fate of husbands in the like cir- cumstances 1 This he was continually 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 w,anted precedents for putting in practice his resentments in a privileged country : that of Lord Chesterfield was not suf- ficiently 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 London. Merciless fate MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 229 robbed lier of life * and of her dearest hopes, in tlie bloom of youth. As no person entertained any doubt, of his having poisoned her, the populace of his neighbourhood had a design of tear- ing him in pieces, as soon as he should come abroad ; but he shut himself up to bewail her death, until their fury was ap- peased 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 the 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 stiU admired, notwith- standing his resentments, 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 jealousy !" con- tinued he, " yet more cruel to those who torment 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 per- form this without depriving 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 • 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 imputed her death to the jealousy of the Duchess of York. 830 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. of tte same kmd, and all out of season, that in sucn an en- gagement 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 remorse, when he received a letter from her who occasioned 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 fol- lows: "Tou will, no doubt, be as much surprised at this letter as I was at the unconcerned air with which you beheld my de- parture. 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 senti- ments 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 ia 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 insupport- able 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 avowed innocence I had a right to complain or to expostulate : but how is it possible for me to justify myself at such a distance ; and how can I flat- ter 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 justifi- cation ; and I am convinced that if after this visit you find me MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 231 gviilty it will not be ■with respect to yourself. Our Argus sets out to-morrow for Chester, where a law-suit will detain In'm a week. I know not whether he will gain it ; but I am sure it will be entirely your fault if he doces not lose one, for which he is at least as anxious as that he is now going after." This letter was suf&cient 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 respects : he could not perceive by what means sne could justify herself; but as shd assured him he should be satisfied with his journey, this was aU 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 ia accomplished, he took post, and set out in the night, animated by the most tender and flattering wishes, so that, in less than no time almost, ia 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 pre- cipices mentioned in her letter, he proceeded with tolerable discretion, considering he was in love. By this means he fortunately escaped all the dangerous places, and, according to his instructions, alighted at a little hut adjoining to the park waU. The place was not magnifi- cent ; 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 ob- scure retreat, he fell into a profound sleep, and did not wake 232 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. until noon. As he was particularly hungry -when he avroke, 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 aU those preparations which the time and place per- mitted, 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 servant, 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 opposite 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 bhss. However, he began to wonder at so many precautions in the absence of a husband : his imagination, by a thousand delicious and tender ideas supported him some time' against the torments of impatience and the inclemency of the weather; but he felt his imagina- tion, 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 fit- test conduct for him to pursue in this emergency : " What if MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOMT. 233 I should rap at this cursed door," said he ; " for if my fate re- quires that I should perish, it is at least more honourahle 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 in- stant, 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 con- tend 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 begin- ning. All this was to no purpose ; for though he used every effort to keep himself Warm, and though muffled up in a thick cloak, yet he began to be benumbed in aU his limbs, and the cold gained the ascendancy over aU 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 faggots that were in the cottage were hardly able to unfreeze him : the more he reflected on his adventure, the circumstances attending it appeared still the more strange and unaccountable ; but so far from accusing the charming coun- tess, he suffered a thousand different anxieties on her account. Sometimes he imagined that her husband nught have returned unexpectedly ; sometimes, that she might suddenly have been taken ill; in short, that some insuperable obstacle had unluckily interposed, and prevented his happiness, notwithstanding hia mistress'gikind 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, ot other, if she could neither speak to me nor give 234 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. me admittance ?" He knew not wMch of these conjectures to rely upon, or how to answer his own questions ; but as he flat- tered himself that everything would succeed better the next night, after having vowed not to set a foot again into that imfortunate garden, he gave orders to be awakened as soon as any person should inquire for Viitti : 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 supposed that he should not be awakened, but either by a letter or a message from Lady Ches- terfield ; 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 afiorded him a retreat, joining, as we before said, to the park waU, 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 bed-chamber. 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 pea- sant. He was so astonished 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 recovered himself he began to curse capricious for- tune, no longer doubting but this jealous fool's return had occasioned 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 dressing himself, and was begin- ning to question his landlord, when the same servant who had conducted him to the garden delivered him a letter, and disap- peared, without waiting for an answer. This letter was from his relation, and was to this efiect : MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 235 " I am extremely sorry that I have innocently been acces- sary to bringing you to a place, to wbich you were only in- vited to be laughed at : I opposed this journey at first, though I was then persuaded it was wholly suggested by her tender- ness ; 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 coimtry. She has conceived such hatred and aversion against you for it, that I find, from her discourse, she has not yet wholly satisfied her resentment. Console yourself for the hatred of a person, whose heart never merited your tenderness. Eetum : 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 employment 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 ex- cited 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 London a severe cold, instead of the soft wishes and tender desires he had brought from thence. He quitted this perfi- dious 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 him- self at a sufScient distance to be out of danger of meeting Lord Chesterfield and his hounds, he chose to look back, that 236 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONT. 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, ia 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 furnished fresh cause for resentment and con- fusion to a man who thought himself so well acquainted with all the vnles, as well as weaknesses, of the fair sex j 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, weU furnished with arguments to maintain that a man must be extremely weak to trust to 'the tenderness of a woman who has once deceived him, but that he must be a complete fool to run after her. This adventure not being much to his credit, he suppressed, as much as possible, both the journey and the circumstances attending it ; but, as we may easily suppose, Lady Chester- * This was Bretby, in the county of Derby. A late traveller has the follouring reflections on this place : — " Moving back again a few miles to the west, we trace, with sad reflection, the melancholy ruins and destructions of what was once the boasted beauty of the lovely country, viz. Bretby, the ancient seat of the Eai-ls 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 delightful magnificence to its frequent visitors : its painted roofs and walls, besides a large collection of pictures, afforded much entertainment 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 surrounding monument, but the very stones themselves, have been converted to the pxirpose of filthy lucre." — Tour in nsTi/rom London to the Western Islands of Scotland, 12mo., p. 29. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 237 field made no secret of it, the king came to the knowledge of it ; and, having complimented Hamilton upon it, desired to be informed of aJl the particulars 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 weU deserved for the trick you had played her : women love revenge ; but their resentments seldom last long ; and if you had remained in the neighbour- hood till the next day, I will be hanged if she would not have given you satisfaction for the first night's sufferings." Hamil- ton being of a different opinion, the Chevalier de Grammont resolved to maintain his assertion by a case in point ; and, addressing 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 devH. 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, fuU 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 deprived her of the pleasure of seeing me tOl 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: Tery 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 pa- 238 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. trolled atout her house, whilst others watched her door; one of the latter brought me intelligence that no person had gone into her house aU the afternoon ; but that a foot-boy had gone out as it grew dark ; that he followed him as far as the Eue Saint Antoine, where this boy met another, to whom he only spoke two or three words. This was suf&cient 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-Eoyale, 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 Eue Saint Antoine ; and, just as I was going out of the Place-Eoyale, I saw a man on foot coming into it, who avoided me as much as he possibly could ; but his endeavour was all to no purpose ; I knew him to be the Duke de Brissac, 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 appointment, 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 ; bul, above all, do not go far from this;jlace: you see that I use you fireely like a * 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 Bichelieu, and, at last, of Monsieur d'Emery, superintendent of the ficancea MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 239 iEriend ; but you know it is upon condition that you may take the same liberty -with me.* I took his cloak, without waiting for his answer, and he took my horse by the bridle, and fol- lowed 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 agreeable and genteelest d&habLlle imagiaable: 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 V said I, ' me- thinks this is a headache very elegantly set off; but your headache, to all appearance, is now gone V ' N^ot 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 I' ' 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- 240 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ' Madam,' said I, ' pray do not talk in so Hgli 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 from this place, and God knows that I have so managed the affair as to prevent his visiting you soon.' Having spoken these words in a tone somewhat tragical, she appeared concerned at first, and, looking upon me with sur- prise: 'What do you mean about the Duke de Brissac f 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 around my neck, ' My dear Chevalier,' said she, 'I can hold out DO longer ; you are too amiable and too eccentric 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 com- plaisance. He told me I jested, that such compliments were unusual among friends ; and to convince me that he had cor- dially 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 satisfied with my mistress and my rival. This," con- tinued he, " proves that a little patience and address are sufli- cient to disarm the anger of the fair, to turn even their tricks to a man's advantage." It was in vain that the Chevalier de Grammont diverted the Memoirs of count grammont. 241 court with liis stories, instructed by his example, and never appeared there but to inspire universal joy ; for a long time he vras the only foreigner in fashion. Fortune, jealous of the justice which is done to merit, and desirous of seeing aU human happiness depend on her caprice, raised up against bim 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 favour. They came to display, in their own persons, whatever was the most accomplished either among the men of the sword, or of the gown. ITie 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 Tambonneau, the most humble and most obedient servant and admirer of the beauteous Luynes. As they arrived together, they exerted every endeavour to shine *A Monsieur Flamarin, but whether the same person as here described cannot be exactly ascertained, is mentioned, in Sydney's Letters, to have been in England at a latei period than is comprehended in these Memoirs, " Monsieur de Ramarin 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 formalities that are usual with men of business having been observed to him he is grown to think he is so." — Sidney's Wm-ks, p. 94. t This lady was the daughter of Caspar 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 fox parting from her husband, who was a pro- testant, and for whom she had an invincible abhorrence ; which occa- sioned the qxicen to say, " The Countess of Suse became a catholic, that she might neither meet her husband in this world nor the next." — See Zacombe's Life of Queen Christina. The Countess died in 1673, 242 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMM.ONT. in concert : their talents were as different as their persons ; Tamhonneau,* 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. 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 England 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 introduced into England, and which he danced with tolerable success. The English court had been too long ac- customed 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 favout 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 honour of being distinguished 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 favour to converse with her; and, perhaps, he would never have found out that he was tiresome, if, content- ing himself with the display of his eloquence, he had not thought proper to attack her heart. This was carrying the * I find this person mentioned in Memoirs of the Court qf France, 8to., 1702, part ii., p. 42. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 243 matter a little too far for Miss Hamilton's complaisance, ■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 experiment of his seducing tongue, and not 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 in France, he began to lay in a store of politics for those important ne- gotiations in which he has since been employed. 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, Fla- marens, deprived of his support, soon perceived that he was not likely to meet in England with the success he had ex- pected, 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 heait. It was at this time that Talbot, whom we have before men- tioned, and who was afterwards created Duke of Tyrconnel," • Eichard Talljot, the fifth son " of an Irish family, tut of ancient English extraction, which had always inhabited within tha^ circle that was called the Fale ; which, being originally an English plantation, was, in so many hundred years, for the most part degenerated into the mannei's 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 2 n 244 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. fell in love with Miss Hamilton. Tliere was not a more genteel man at court : he was indeed bat a younger brother, of quality." Thus far Lord Clarendon ; who adds, that Richard Talliot and his " brothers were all the sons, or the grandsons, of one who was a judge in Ii eland, and esteemed a learned man." — Continuation of Clarendon. Of the person now under consideration the same writer appears, and with gieat 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 witL 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 expedition than could be expected, he got, to that degree, that he was inade of hia bed-chamber ; and from that qualification embarked himself, after the king's return, in the pretences of the Irish, with such an unusual coniidence, 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 honour already noticed. On King James's accession to the tluone, 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 v/ere 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 honourable 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 immo- derately 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's invasion, his MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 245 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 favour with the Duke of York, and fortune likewise favouring 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 aU, as many sacrifices as she could desire of Lady Shrewsbury's letters, pictures, and hair; curiosities which, indeed, are reckoned for nothing in housekeeping, but which testify strongly in favour of the sincerity and merit of a lover. Such a rival was not to be despised ; and the Chevalier 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 frequent 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,t fiiinneRS 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 Boyiie, he sank prodigiously, being become aa irresolute in his mind as unwieldy in his person." — Memoirs, voL i., p. 94. He died at Limerick, 5th August, 1691. * This was Peter Talbot, whose character is drawn by Lord Claren- don in terms not more favourable than those in which his brother is poiirtrayed. — 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 946 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ■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 uneasiness : 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 protection in England, now de- livered him from all his uneasiness. Talbot had for many years stood forward as the patron of the distressed Irish : this zeal for his countrymen was cer- tainly very commendable in itself; at the same time, however, it was not altogether free from self-interest : for, out of all the estates he had, through his credit, procured the restoration of to their primitive owners, he had always obtained some small compensation for himself ; but, as each owner found his ad- vantage in it, no complaint was made. Nevertheless, as it is very difficult to use fortune and favour with moderation, and not to swell with the gales of prosperity, some of hia proceed- ings had an air of haughtiness and independence, which offended the Duke of Ormond,* then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, as injurious to his Grace's authority. The Duke re- sented this behaviour with great spirit. As there certainly may be found in the same noble historian. — See Continuation of Clarendon, p. 363. * A very exact accoant of this transaction is given by Lord Claren- don, by which it appears, that Talbot waa committed to the Tower for threatening to assassinate the Doke of Ormond. — Continuation of Clarendon, p. 362. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 24'/ was a great difference between them, both as to their birth and rank, and to their credit, it had beea 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 .haughti- ness and insolence ; but he was soon convinced of his error ; for, having inconsiderately launched out into some aixogant 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 jdeld more to get out of this scrape than would have been necessary to have avoided it. By this impmdent conduct he lost aU 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 liis heart than this quarrel had done 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 departui-e, therefore, soon fol- lowed this resolution. Talbot played deep, and was tolerably forgetful : the Che- valier de Grammont won three or four hundred guineas 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 memory, that it never once occurred to him after he was enlarged. The Chevalier de Grammont, who saw him at his departure, without taking 248 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 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 EusseU. has left his nephew as his resident with Miss Hamilton : if you please, I wiU 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 wUL" Talbot, who, upon this compli- ment, immediately recollected the money he owed the Che- valier, 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 mistress, 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 Lord Cornwallis :* this lord had married the daughter of Sir Stephen rox,-f treasurer of the king's household, one of the • Charles, the third Lord Com-wallis, bom in 1655. He married, December 27, 1673, Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Sir Stephen Fox, knight, and afterwards, in 1688, the widow of the Duke of Mon- mouth. Lord Cornwallis died April 29, 1698. t 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 EebeUion, that he was enter- tained 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 Eestoration. On that event he was made clerk of the green cloth, and afterwards paymaster-general of the forces in England. On the 1st 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, 1686, was again appointed one of the commissioners of the treasury. At the revolution, he concurred in voting the throne vacant ; and, on MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 249 ricliest and most regular men in England. His son-in-law, on the contrary, was a young spendthrift, was very extrava- gant, loved gaming, lost as much as any one would trust him, but was not quite so ready at paying. His father-in-law dis- approved 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 de- parture, and he had taken leave of CornwaUis in a more par- ticular manner than any other person. This obliged the Chevalier to write him a billet, which was rather laconic. It was this : " My Lord, " Pray remember the Count de Grammont, and do not forget Sir Stephen Pox." To return to TaJIbot : he went away more concerned 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 «f honour, upon account of Miss Stewart and Miss Warmestre : 19th March, 1689, was a third time appointed to the treasury ; which place he held until he retired from public basiness, 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 Ilchestsr, and Henry, Lord Holland, and two daughters. He died in the year 1716, at Chiswick, in his 89th year. 250 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. the otliers were Mis3 Bellenden, Mademoiselle de la Garde and Mademoiselle Bardou, all maids of honour, as it pleased God. Miss Bellenden was no beauty, hut was a good-natured girl, whose chief merit consisted in being plump and fresh-coloured; and who, not having a sufiicient stock of wit to be a coquette in form, used all her endeavours 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 con- tinually meddling in the affairs of her companions ; and the other by all means claimed the rank of a maid of honour, 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 BO 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 riamarens, 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. Let 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 honour : the others went off almost at the same time, by different adventures ; and this is the history of Miss Warmestre, whom we have before mentioned, when speaking of the Chevalier de Grammont. Lord Taaffe, eldest son of the Earl of Carlingford,* was sup- • Nicholas, the third Visoount Taa£fe, and second Earl of Carlingford. He vraa of the privy-council to King James II., and, in 1689, went as onvoy to the Emperor Leopold. He lost his life the next year, let 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 251 posed to be in love with her; and Miss Warmestre not only imagined it was so, but likewise persuaded herself that he would not fail to marry her the first opportunity; and in the mean time she thought it her duty to entertain him with all the civility imaginable. TaafFe had made the Duke of Eich- mond* his confidant : these two were particularly attached to each other; but still more so to wine. The Duke of Rich- mond, notwithstanding 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 ma- jest/s favour that he thought proper to fall in love with Miss Stewart. The Duke, and Lord TaafFe made each other the confidants of their respective engagements; and these were the measures they took to put their designs in execution. Little Mademoiselle de la Gardef was charged to acquaint regard for the family. In a letter from Lord Arlington to Sir Kichard 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 Taafle, a younger son of my Lord Carlingford's, and the colonel'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. * 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 negotia- tion, which was chiefly managed by Mr. Henshaw." — History of his own Times, vol. i., p. 425. t Daughter of Charles Peliot, Lord de la Garde, whose eldest daughtex" married Sir Thomas Bond, comptroller of the household to the queen-mother. Sir Thomas Bond had a considerable estate at Peck- ham, and his second son married the niece of Jermyn, one of the heroes of these Memoirs. — See CoUins's Baronetage, vol. iii., p. 4. She became the wife of Sir Gabriel Silvius, and died 13th October, 1730. 252 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Miss Stewart that the Duke of Eichmond 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 ambassadress for Miss Warmestre; for there everything was already ar- ranged ; but she was charged to settle and provide some con- veniences which were stni 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 dif&cult to be obtained, but it was, however, at length accomplished. The governess of the maids of honour, who for the world would not have connived at anything that was not fair and honourable, consented that they should sup as often as they pleased in Miss Warmestre's apartments, provided their inten- tions were honourable, 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 Gram- mont 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 liber- ality were there consumed ! In the midst of these nocturnal festivals, and of this innocent commerce, a relation of "Killegrew'a 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 thou- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 253 Band pounds a-year : the good man, who had no business at court, went thither merely to see his cousin Killegrew, 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 night, he was obliged to have recourse to extraordinary re- medies ; 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, ofMl 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 con- vinced 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 inclina- tion, woiild as effectually 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, find- ing his reason less potent than his love, he remained fixed in his resolution ; and Killegrew, yielding at length to his impor- tunities, went and offered his cousin, boimd hand and foot, to the victorious fair. As he dreaded nothing more than a com- pliance 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 wag 254 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Bure of Lord Taaffe, 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 circum- stances, as the best news he could carry to his cousin ; but his cousin would not believe him : he supposed that KiUegrew disguised the truth, for the same reasons he had already al- leged ; 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 enterprise, and got his compliment by heart ; bht 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 affair ; that she had already given her answer to KiUegrew ; and that she neither had, nor ever should have, any other to give ; which words she accom- panied with all the severity with which importunate demands are usually refused. He was more affected than confounded at this repulse: everything became odious to him in London, 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 forsaken all intercourse with dogs and horses ; that is to say, renounced all the delights and endearments of a country squire, the scorn- ful 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 broke loose upon it ; and those principally, whose age or persons secured MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 255 them from any such scandal, were the most inveterate, and cried most loudly for justice. But the governess of the maids of honour, who might have been Called to an accoimt for it, aSirmed that it was nothing at all, and that she was possessed of circumstances which would at once silence aU censorious tongues. She had an audience of the queen, in order to un- fold the mystery ; and related to her majesty ho^ everything had passed with her consent, that is to say, upon honourable terms. The queen sent to inquire of Lord Taaffe, whether he ac- Imowledged Miss Warmestre for his wife : to which he most respectfully returned for answer, that he neither acknowledged lliss Warmestre nor her child, and that he wondered why she should rather father it upon him than any other. The unfor- tunate Warmestre, more enraged 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 oppob tunity. Killegrew, being upon the point of setting out upon a jour^ ney, when this adventure happened, thought he might as well call upon his afflicted cousin in his way, to acquaint him with the circumstance ; and as soon as he saw him, without 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 colour- ing 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 Maxiamne ; but Killegrew's fond cousin falling devoutly upon his knees, and lifting up his eyes to Heaven, poured forth this exclamation ; " Praised be the Lord for a small misfortune, which perhaps 2S6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. may prove the comfort of my life ! Who knows hut the heau- teous Warmestre will now accept of me for a 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 lyiug-in ; and it would be a great ill-nature in her, who already knows the way, to let you want children : however, 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 in- creased after marriage, and the generous 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 happiest. Some time after, Miss Bellenden, not being terrified by this example, had the prudence to quit the court before 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 Mademoiselle de la Garde to be provided for : neither her virtues nor her vices were sufficiently conspicuous to occasion her being either dismissed from court, or pressed to remain there : God knows what would have become of her, if MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 257 a Mr. Silvius,* a man -who had notliing of a Eoman 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, exq^uisitely shaped : she dressed very genteel, walked like a goddess ; and yet, her face, though made like those that generally please the most, was unfortu- nately 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 coloured, 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 sense.'? woidd not fare better with Miss WeUs's person than fine senti- ments with her understanding: nor was this experiment attended 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 surrendered at discretion before she was vigorously attacked; and others said, that • Afterwards Sir Gabriel Silvias. In Chamherlayne's Anglim Jfotitia, 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. He was afterwards knighted, and, 30th February, 1680, was sent ambassiidor to the Dukes of Brunswick and Lunenburgh. liOrd Orford Stays, he was a native of Orange, and was attached- to the princess-roya], afterwards to the Duke of York. He also says, be was sent ambassador to Denmark. 2S8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. liis majesty complained of certam other faculties still less pleasing. The Duke of Buckingham made a couplet upon tliis occasion, ■wherein the king, speaking to Progers, the con- fidant of his intrigues, puns upon the name of the fair one, to the following purport : 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." • Ed-ward Progers, Esq., -was a younger son of Philip Progers, ^i/sq., of the family of Garreddin, in Monmouthshire. His father was a colonel in the army, and equerry to James L Edward was early in- troduced to court, and, after ha^ving 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 IL did wear mourning for a whole year for his father, serves to shew the fami- liar style which Charles used to Progers, as well as his straitened cir- cumstances while in the island of Jersey. " Progers, I wold have you (besides the embroidred sute) bring me a plaine riding suite, with an innocent coate, the suites I haue 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 en. I doe not remember there was a belt, or a hat-band, in your direc- tions for the embroidred suite, and those are so uecessarie as you must not forget them. Jearsey, lUh Jan. old stile, 1649. Chakles E." " For Mr. Progers." By a letter from Cowley to Henry Bennet, dated 18th November, 1650, Mr. Progers appears to have been then active in his master's service. — £rown's Miscellanea Aulica, 1702, p. 153. In the lampoons of tha times, particularly in those of Andrew MarveD, 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 i he MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, 259 Miss Wells, notwithstanding this species of anagram 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 honour 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 possessed an inexhaustible stock of beauties. But before we begin to speak of them, let us see who were the first maids of honour to her royal high- ness, 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 community. king." He is said to have obtained several grants to talce 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 Hampton Court, on condition that, after his death, it should revert to the erown. This was the house inhabited by the lata 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 retired from public life. Mr. Progers died, says Le Neve, " December 31st, or January 1st, 1713, aged 96, of the anguish 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 law 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 WeUs ; and the scandal-bearers of the time remarked, that his eldest daughter Philippa, afterwards Mrs. Croxel, bore a strong resemblance to Charles II. — Monumenia Anglicana, 1717, p. 273. 2 F 26o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Miss Blague, who never knew the true reason of her quarrel With the Marquis de Brisacier, took it up upon that fatal letter she had received from him, wherein, without acquaint- ing 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 complexion, and her eyes marcassvas. Tlus word she imagined 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 expression, she asked the meaning of the French word mar- cassin. 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 in- significant, 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 re- solved to have, she waa 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 inconveniences ; and she had very indiscreetly quarrelled with a young girl whom Lord llochester admired. This connection, which tni then had been a secret, she had the imprudence to publish to the whole world, and thereby drew upon herself the most dangerous MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, 261 enemy in the universe : never did any man write with more ease, humour, 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 Eochester ? The loss of her lover, and the discovery that attended it, was only wanting to complete the persecution that was raised against her. About this time died Dongan,* a gentleman of merit, who was succeeded by Durforfc, afterwards Earl of reversham,f ia • The only notice of this person I have anywhere seen, ia in the following extract of a letter from Sir Bichard Fanshaw to Lord Arling- ton, dated 4th Jane, 1664. — " I ought not, in justice to an honourable person, to conclude before I acquaint your honour, 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 feara wants good officers very much." — Fanshau's Letters, vol. L, p. 104'. t Louis de Duras, Earl of Fevsrsham, a native of France, being son of the Doke 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 Bonillon. 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 Durfoii;, and the title of Marquis of Blancfort. In the 24th, Charles IL 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 honours. King Charles preferred him to the command of 262 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 ; hut the inventory of his effects had almost de- prived her of her senses : there -was in it a certain little box sealed up on all sides : it was addressed in the deceased's OTrn handwriting to Miss Price; but instead of receiving it, she had not even the courage to look upon it. The governess 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 com- modities, of which perhaps she might make some advantage. Though the duchess was not altogether of the same opinion, she had the ciiriosity 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 fa- vours, 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 pic- tures, there was hair of all descriptions, wrought into bracelets, lockets, and into a thousand other different devices, wonderful to see. After these were three or four packets of letters, 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 Mon- mouth. 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, London; but removed, March 21st, 1740, to 'West- minster Abbey, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT 263 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 hox to be opened in such good company; for heing before'such witnesses, she rightly judged it was impossible to stiflei this adventure ; and, at the same time, there being no possibility of retaining aUy longer such a maid of honour, 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 handsome, 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 discre- tion. She was likewise possessed of a great deal of vivacity, with an irregular fancy : there was a great deal of fire in her eyes, which, however, produced no effect upon the beholders : and she had a tender heart, whose sensibility some pretended was alone in favour of the fair sex. Miss Bagot* was the first that gained her tenderness and * 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 Dor- set. 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 Mulgrave 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. 264 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. affection, ■whicli slie returned at first with ecLual -warmth and sincerity ; but perceiving that all her friendship was insuffi- cient to repay that of Miss Hobart, she yielded the conquest tojthe governess's niece, who thought herself aa much honoured by it as her aunt thought herself obliged by the care she look 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 particularly attached to the fair sex, was in reality something more than she appeared to be. 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 Lord Eochester upon the danger to which her niece was exposed. She could not have applied to a fitter person : he immediately advised her to take her niece out of the hands of Miss Hobart ; and contrived matters so weE 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 A teeming widow, but a barren wife ; Swell'd bj contact of such a fulsome toad, He lugg'd 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 dosing all the day ; Bull as Ned Howard, whom hiu brisker times Had famed for dulneas in-maUcious rhymes." MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 265 of tte maids of honour, to be an attendant upon her own person. Mis3 Bagot was the only one who was really possessed of virtue and heauty among these maids of honour: she had beautiful and regular features, and that sort of brown com- plexion, which, when in perfection, is so particularly fascina- ting, 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. Lord Falmouth east 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 honour 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, re- solved to see all the young persons that offered themselves, and, without any regard to recommendations, to choose none but the handsomest. At the head of this new assembly appeared Miss Jennings 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 treasures of * This lady was one of the daughters and co-heirs of Richard Jennings of Sundridge, in the county of Hertford, Esq., and elder Bister to the celebrated Duchess of Marlborough. Her name was Frances. She married George Hamiiton, mentioned in these Memoirs ; and after hia death took to her second husband Eichard Talbot, already mentioned, created Duke of Tyrconnel by James II., whose fortunes he followed. Lord Melfort, secretary to' that prince, appeai-s to have conceived no very favourable 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 eflfectuated, 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 966 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 insipidity which is freq^uently an attendant on a complexion so extremely 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 swelling 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 aU 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 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 sprightli- ness, and all her actions and motions were unaffected and easy: her conversation was bewitching, when she had a mind to give her, and which, for your service, I may repeat unto you, is, that she has {Pdme la plus noire qui se puisse concevoir). I think it would help to keep that peace bo necessary for you, and prevent that cabal- ling hiunour which haa very ill effects." — Macpherson's State Papers, voL L 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. — Golems State Papers, p. 53. In 1705 she was in Eng- land, and had an interview with her brother-in-law, the Duke of Marlborough, 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 resided in Ireland, and died there, 6th March, 1730-1, at a very advanced age. — She was buried in the cathedral of St. Patrick's. MEMOIRS OF COUNT URAMMONT. 267 please ; piercing and delicate when disposed to raillery ; but as her imagination was 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. Mi^ Temple,* nearly of the same age, was brown compared with the other : she had a good .shape, fine teeth^ languishing eyes, a fresh complexion, an agreeable smile, and a lively air. Such was the outward form ; but it would be difficult to de- scribe the rest ; for she was simple and vain, credulous and suspicious, coquettish and prudent. Very self-sufficient and very sUly. 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 honourable, and others with dishonest intentions. Miss Jennings soon distin- guished herself, and left her companions no other admirers but such as remained constant from hopes of success : her briUiant charms attracted at first sight, and the charms of her wit secured her conquests. 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 favours of Miss Wells ; but he did not find her inclined to enter into his service, though she had engaged iu that of the duchess. She would not pay any attention to the perpetual • Anne, daughter of Thomas Temple of Frankton, in the county of Warwick ; by Eebecca, daughter of Sir Nicholas Carew, of Beddington, in Surrey, knight. She afterwards became the second wife of Sir Charles Lyttelton, by whom she had five sons, and eight daughters. She was grandmother of the ILcMt Lord Lyttelton ; and died 27th August, 1718. Her husband, Sir Charles Lyttelton, lived to the advahced age of 86 years ; and died at Hagley, May 2J, 1716. a68 .MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 : ogUng having proved ineffectual, he took an opportunity to speak to her ; and this was stm worse. I know not in what strain he told his case ; but it is certain the oratory of the tongue was not more pre- vailing than the eloquence of his eyes. Miss Jennings had both virtue and pride, and the proposals of the duke were consistent with neither the one nor the other. Although from her great vivacity one might suppose that she was not capable of much reflection, yet she had furnished her- self with some very salutary 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 maintaia her- seK there but by a glorious resistance, or by illustrious foibles : and that, in so dangerous a situation, she ought to use her ut- most endeavours 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 herseK from his perseverance : she was deaf to all treaties for a settlement, with which her ambition was sounded : and all offers of pre- sents succeeded stiU 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 givl 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 requii-ed of her. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 269 After he had attentively considered her obstinate behaviour, 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 Dlost magnificent promises, were slipped into her pockets, or into her muff : this, however, could not be done unper- ceived ; and the malicious .little gipsy took care that those who saw them slip in, should likewise see them fall out, unperused 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 hail-stones, and whoever pleased might take them up. The duchess was frequently a witness of this con- duct, but could not find ia her heart to chide her for her want of respect to the dttke. After this, the charms and prudence of Miss Jennings were the only subjects of conversation ia 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 attractions, and its ex- ample 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 promises, nor gained by importunity : she, especially, who in aU probability had not imbibed such severe precepts from the prudence of her mother, who had never tasted any thing 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 appeared in the turn of her wit, and in the charms of her person ; and curiosity, which at first induced him to make the • This town is in the neighbourhood of Sundridge, where Miss Jennings's family resided. 270 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. trial, was soon dhanged into a desire of succeeding in the ex- periment. God knows what might have been the consequence, for he graatly 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 wonderfully pleased with wit; and royal majesty prostrate at the feet of a young person, is very persuasive. Miss Stewarty-however, would not consent to the king's project. 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 honour, 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 menace being of a serious nature, the Idng obeyed ; and Miss Jennings had all the ad- ditional honour which arose from this adventure : it both added to her reputation, 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 engaging, it was nevertheless eclipsed by that of Mias Jennings ; but she was still more excelled by the other's superior mental ac- complishments. Two persons, very capable to impart imder- standing, had the gift been communicable, undertook at the same time to rob her of the little she really possessed : these were Lord Eochester and Miss Hobart: the first began to mislead her by reading 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 271 told her that if heaven had made him susceptible of the im- pressions of beauty, it would not hare been possible for him to have escaped her chains; but not being, thank God, affected with anything but wit, he had the happiness of en- joying the most agreeable conversation in the world without running any risk. After so sincere a confession he either presented to her a copy of verses, or a new song, in which whoever dared to come in competition 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 perceiving it ; but as it is no less dangerous to forbid a connection that is not yet thought of, than it is difficult to put an end to one that is already well established. Miss Hobart was charged to take caire, with, all possible discretion, that these frequent and long conversations might not be attended with any dangerous con- sequences : with pleasure she accepted the commission, and greatly flattered herself with success. She had already made all necessary advances to gain pos- session of her confidence and friendship ; and Miss Temple, less suspicious of her than of Lord Eochester, 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 sweetmeats 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. 272 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMON'T. Summer, being now returned, brought back with it the pleasures and diversions that are its inseparable attendants. One day, when the ladies had been taking the air on horse- back, 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 immediately complied with : " I was just going to propose it to you," said Miss Hobart, "not but tiiat you are as charming as an angel in your riding habit ; but there is nothing so comfortable as a loose dress, and being at one's ease : fovL cannot imagine, my dear Temple," continued she, embracing her, "how much you oblige me by this free un- ceremonious 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 court fops admire her for her brilliant complexion, which perhaps, after aU, is not wholly her own ; and for blunders, 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 neces- sarily be seen, such as the neck and hands." Miss Temple swallowed aU this with even greater pleasure than the sweetmeats ; and the of&cious Hobart, not to lose time, was helping her off with her clothes, while the chamber- maid, was coming. She made some objections to this at first. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, 273 being unwillmg to occasion that trouble to a person, who, like Miss Hobart, had been advanced to a place of dignity ; but she was overruled by her, and assured that it waa ivith the greatest pleasure she showed her that small mark of civility. The collation being finished, and Miss Temple im- dressed : " 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 ap. 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 : siunptuous in their equipages, deep play, a 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 actions : those who are led by the first would sell God Almighty, as Judas sold his Master, and that for less money. I could relate you a thousand noble 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 endeavour 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 lionour only as amusements, placed expressly at court for 274 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. their entertainment ; and tlie 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 mdney or caprice make up the match, there is hut little hopes of heing married : virtue and beauty in this respect here are equally useless. Lady Falmouth is the only instance of a maid of honour 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 for ever, in consequence of five or six thousand 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 half way to her miserable little castle. What can be the matter ! all the girls seem afBicted with the rage of wedlock, and however small their portion of charms may be, they think it only necessary 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 reason- able 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 recent examples of which you are acquainted. However brilliant the phantom may appear, suffer not yourseK MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 275 to be caught by its splendour, and never be so weak as to transform your slave into your tyrant : as long as you preserve your own liberty, you wiU 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 experience 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 perfection, particularly the part of Eoxana, in a very fashionable new play, insomuch that she ever after retained that name : this creature being both very virtuous and very modest, or, if you please, wonderfully obstiaatc, proudly rejected the addi'esses and presents of the Earl of Oxford. This resistance inflamed his passion : he had recourse to invectives, and even to spells ; but all in vara. This disap- pointment had such effect upon him that he could neither eat nor drink ; this did not signify to him ; but his passion t 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 12th, 1702, aged 80 yeai-s, and upwards, and was buried in Westminster-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 Eoxana, from acting that part, was the person deceived by the Earl of Oxford in this manner. The parti- culars 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 2. p. 71. Mrs. Marshall, who was the original Eoxana in Lee'a Kival 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. Barker to this lady ; a name totally unknown, I believe, in tho annals of the stage. 2 H 276 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 passionate lover presented her with a promise of mar- riage, 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 solemnized with all due ceremonies, in the presence of one of her fellow- players, who attended as a witness on her part. You will sup- pose, 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 ap- peared after the ceremony was over; and as for the other wit- ness, they endeavoured to persuade her, that the Sultana Eoxana might have supposed, in some part or other of a play, that she was really married. It was all to no purpose, that the poor creature claimed the protection of the laws of God and man, both which were violated 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 277 an ajonuity of one thousand crowns, and to resume the name of Eoxana, instead of Countess of Oxford. You will say, per- haps, that she was only a player ; that all men have not the same sentiments as the earl ; and, that one may at least be- Keve 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 Jennings : the handsome Sydney ogles you ; Lord Rochester is delighted with your conversation ; and the most serious Sir Lyttleton forsakes his natural gravity in favour 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 ac- complishments, which I know it is not, and that his sentiments in your favour were as real as he endeavours 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 Lyttleton* is undoubtedly in earnest, since he appears ashamed of the condition to which you have reduced bim ; 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 tho weeldy 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 lectures, and whose lectures are com- posed of nothing but iUnature and censure ! " Lord Eochester is, without contradiction, the most witty man in all England ; but then he is likewise the most unprin- * Sir Charles Lyttelton ; of whom see Note on p. 246. 278 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. cipled, and devoid even of the least tincture of honour; 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 reputation. 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 mean time 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 honourable and sincerest men living ; for my part I cannot imagine what he means by the assiduity he pays you : not but youx accomplishments are sufBcient 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 favours of. all the common 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 assidu- ities to Miss Temple, but to give a greater air of probability to the calumnies with which he has loaded her. Ton look upon me with astonishment, and seem to doubt the truth of what I advance ; but I do not desire you to believe me with- out evidence : ' Here,' said she, drawing a paper out of her pocket, ' see what a copy of verses he has made in your praise, while he lulls your credulity to rest, by flattering speeches and feigned respect,' " MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 279 After saying tliis, the perfidious Hobart sliowoJ her half-a- dozen couplets full of strained invective and scandal, which Rochester had made against the former maids of honour. This severe and cutting lampoon was principally levelled against Miss Price, whose person he took to pieces in the most frightful and hideous maimer 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 believed it to be made upon herself ; and in the first transports of her rage, having nothing 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 hand- some 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 from them : we are alone, and I am almost inclined to convince 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 Eochester's song. Miss Temple was almost driven to distrac- tion 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 unparalleled 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 aU her endeavours 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 only method to disappoint his 28o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. designs ; that contempt and silence were, on such occasions, much preferable to any explanation, and that if he could once obtain a hearing, 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 Lord Eochester had so fair an opportunity of renewing his former panegyrics upon her ; but her precaution was in vain : this conversation 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 Eochester, she conned it over three or four times, that she might not forget one single word, when she should have the honour of relating it to her lover. We shall show in the next chapter, what were the consequences resulting from it. CHAPTEK TBISTTH. OTHEE LOVE IlfTEIGUES AT THE ENGLISH COUKT. SHE 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 knowin<» the reason why, if Sidney had a real esteem for her, she should not be allowed to pay some attention to him. As soon as they retired from the closet, Miss Sarah came out of the bath, where during all this conversation, 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, found means to fill one of the baths with 283 284 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. cold water, Miss Sarah had just got into it, ■when they were both alarmed with the arrival of the other two. A glass par- bibibn enclosed the room where the baths were, and Indian 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 conch placed along the partition, and Miss Sarah, notwithstanding her alarms, had distinctly heard, and perfectly retained the whole conversation. As the little girl was at all this trouble to make herself clean, only on Lord Eochester's account, as soon as ever she could make her escape she regained her garret ; where Eochester, having re- paired 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. Little 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 compliance, since my debauches and the street-walkers have brought me to order." This answer made Miss Sarah very easy, for she concluded- that the first article was not true, since she knew from expe- rience that the latter was false. Lord Eochester 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 285 did not fail to be there likewise, with the intention of looking on liim with the most contemptuous disdain possible, though she had taken care to dress herself as weU as she could. As she supposed that the lampoon Miss Hobart had sung to her was in everybody's possession, she was under great em- barrassment lest all those whom she met should think hex such a monster as Lord Eochester had described her. In the mean time, 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 s 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 com- plexion, 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." AU Miss Hobart's endeavours to stop her tongue were ineffectual ; and continuing to rail at herself ironically, the whole court was puzzled to comprehend her meaning. When Lord Eochester 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. Eochester 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." 286 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Miss Temple had naturally a tender look, but she vag ti-aiisported with such a violent passion at his having the audacity to speak to her, that her eyes appeared like two fii-e- baUs when she turned them upon him, Hobart pinched her arm, as she perceived that this look was lUcely to be foUowed by a torrent of reproaches and invectives. Lord Eochester did not wait for them, and delaying until another opportunity the acknowledgments he owed Miss ITobait, he quietly retired. The latter, who could not imagine that he knew anything of thoir converisation at the bath, was, however, much alarmed si what he had said ; but Miss Temple, almost choked with the re^jroaches 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, notwithstanding the promise she had made; but never more to speak to him afterwards. Lord Eochester 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 slie brought him news of real importance. Eoch ester was by her informed, that Miss Hobart and her new favourite designed, about nine o'clock in the evening to walk in the Mall, in the Park ; that they were to change clothes wilh each other, to put on scarfs, and wear black MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 287 masks : she added, that Miss Hobart had strongly opposed this project, but that she was obliged to give way at last, Miss Temple having resolved to indulge her fancy. Upon the strength of this intelligence, Rochester concerted liis measures : he went to KiHegrew, 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 adven- ture, they went to the Mall. Presently after appeared our two nymphs in masquerade : their shapes were not very different, and their faces, which were very unlike each other, were concealed 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 Eochester; when Miss Hobart stopping her : " Where are you running to 1" said she ; " have you a mind to engage in conversation with these two devils, to be exposed to all the insolence and impertinence for which they are so notorious ?" These remonstrances were entirely useless : Miss Temple was resolved to try the expe- riment : and aU that could be obtained from her, was, not to answer any of the questions Eochester might ask her. They were accosted just as they had done speaking : Eoches- ter fixed upon Hobart, pretending to take her for the other ; at which she was overjoyed ; but Miss Temple 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 288 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. you, since I have something to say to you, as your friend and humhle servant." This beginning raising her curiosity, Miss Temple appeared more inclined to attend him ; and KiUegrew 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 Lord Eochester, whom you know to be one of the most honourable 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 she is the person alluded to in a certain 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 friendship : your passion and inclinations for Miss Temple are known to every one but herself; for whatever methods you used to impose upon her in- nocence, the world does her the justice to believe that she would treat you as Lady Falmouth did, if the poor girl knew the wicked designs you had upon her : I caution you, therefore, against making any farther advances, to a person, too modest to listen to them : I advise you likewise to take back your maid again, in order to sUence her scandalous tongue ; for she says everywhere, that she is with child, that you are the occasion of her being in that condition, and accuses 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 bathiug-room, the MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 289 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 for her, in order to do justice to her charms. But that which might be of the most fatal consec[uences 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 honour : reflect upon this, and neg- lect not to make some reparation to Sir Lyttleton, 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 aU, that you may not be deceived by his look, like that of a Stoic, and his gravity, like that of a judge, I must acc^uaint you, that he is the most passionate man living. Indeed, these invectives are of the blackest and most horrible nature : he says it is most in&mous, 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 wiU immediately com- plain 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 Ma own sword, though you were even in the arms of Miss Temple ; and that it is most scandalous that all the maids of honour should get into your hands before they can look around them. " These things, madam, I thought it my duty to acquaint you with : you are better able to judge than myself, 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 290 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. advice-; but were I in your situation, I would endeavour to reconcile Lord Eochester and Miss Temple. Once more I recommend to you to take care that your endeavours to mis- lead her innocency, in order to blast his honour, 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 even suffer his eyes to wander towards her, if his intention was not to make her his wife." Miss Temple observed her promise most faithfully during this discourse : she did not even utter a single syllable, being seized with such astonishment and confusion, that she q,uite lost the use of her tongue. Miss Hobart and Lord Eochester came up to her, while she was stm in amazement at the wonderful discoveries 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 evidences and circumstances on which they were founded. Never was confusion equal to that with which her whole frame was seized by the foregoing recital. Eochester and KUlegrew 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 off Miss 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 therefore returnfed her aU her clothes, ordered MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 291 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 KiUegrew had mistaken Miss Temple 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 ]\Iiss 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 some proof of friendship before they entered upon expostulations, she slipt 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 KiUegrew 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 disengaging herself with the highest in- dignation 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 approached her with no other intent than to know the occasion of those transports. Aa 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 highness kept the maids of honour ? 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 292 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ducliesg. All this confinned Miss Temple in her mistaken notions : and Hohart 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 Temple's cries had alarmed the maids of honour's apartment, and how herself and her aunt, rim- ning 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 governess swore to the truth of it, and related in every company what a narrow escape Miss Temple had experienced, and that Miss Sarah, her niece, had preserved her honour, because, by Lord Eochester's excellent advice, she had forbidden her all manner of connection with so dangerous a person. Miss Tem- ple was afterwards informed, that the song that had so greatly provoked her, alluded to Miss Price only : this was confirmed 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 pre- tended 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 sup- ported the imposture ; and did many improper things in order to re-establish Miss Hobart's honour, which, however, she MEMOIRS OF COUNT CRAMMONT. 293 failed in accomplishing. Slie had her reasons for not entirely abandoning her, as will appear in the sequel. Miss Temple, who continually reproached herself with in- justice, with respect to Lord Eochester, and who, upon the faith of Killegrew's word, thought him the most honourable toan in England, was only solicitous to find out some oppor- tunity of easing her mind, by making him some reparation for the rigour with which she had treated him : these favour- able dispositions, in the hands of a man of his character, might have led to consequences 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 when- ever a word presented itself to his pen, or to his tongue, he immediately committed it to paper, or produced it in conver- sation, without any manner of regard 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 cer- tainly been his last. Just at the time that Miss Temple was desirous of seeing him, in order to apologize for the uneasiness which the in- famous 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 endeavours 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 294 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 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 puhlic 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 circiimstancea 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 a,ttempts, so little hopes were entertained of her, that she was, as Gibber declares!, discharged the company at the end of the first year, among others that were thought to be a useless expense to it. She was well bom ; being daughter of Eobert 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 Cihber'a Apolocjy, says, she was woman to lady Shelton of Norfolk, who might have belonged to the court. Curl, however, says, she was early taken under the patronage of Lady Daveuant. Both these accounts may be true. The time of her appearance on the stage was probably not much earlier that 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 ■jtrofession. 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 hia 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 C'ibber, " 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 ai-t of exciting pity, she had a power beyond all the actresses t have yet seen, or what your imagination can conceive. In scenes of MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 295 About this time Talbot returned from Ireland ; he soon felt the absence of Miss Hamilton, who was then in the country with a relation, whom we shall mention hereafter. A rem- nant of his former tenderness still subsisted in his heart, not- withstanding his absence, and the promises he had given the Chevalier de Grammont at parting: he now therefore en- deavoured to banish her entirely from his thoughts, by fixing his desires upon some other object; but he saw no one in the queen's new court whom he thought worthy of his attention : 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 Oleomenes. 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."— Cihber's Apology, 1750, p. 133. Tony Aston says, "she was not hand- some : her mouth opening most on the right side, which she strove to draw t'other way ; and at times composing her face, as if sitting for lier picture : she was," he adds, " middle-sized ; had darkish hair, light eyes, and was indifferently plump. In tragedy, she was -solemn and august ; in comedy, alert, easy, and genteel ; pleasant in her face and action ; filling the stage with variety of gesture. She could neither sing nor dance ; no, not in a country dance." — Supplement to Gibber, p. 7. The printed letters in Otway's works are generally supposed to have been addressed to her. She adhered to Betterton in all the revolutions of the theatre, which she quitted about 1708, on account of her health. The last new character, of any consequence, which she performed, seems to have been Phsedra, iu Mr. Smith's tragedy. She returned, however, for one night, with Mrs. Bracegirdle, April 7, 1709 ; a^id performed Mrs. Frail, in Love for Love, for Mr. Betterton's benefit ; and afterwards spoke an occasional epilogue, written by Mr. Eowe. She died 7th November, 1713, and was buried at Acton. The inscription over her remains says she was 55 yeare of age. 2 ic 296 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Miss Boynton,* however, thought him worthy of hers. Hec 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 inspection : 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 assistance ; 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 her. This seeming 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 appearaice one of the most robust; yet she showed suffi- ciently 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 afterwards, 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 upon the faith of common report. He thought it very sin- gular that discretion and sprightHness 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, * Daughter of Matthew Boynton, second son of Sir Matthew Boyn- ton of Barmston, in Yorkshire. The sister of this lady married the celebrated Earl of Boscommon. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. igf 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 herself to the im- putation of vanity. Talbot was possessed of a fine and brilliant exterior, his manners were noble and majestic : be- sides this, he was particularly distinguished by the favour and friendship of the duke ; but his most essential merit, with her, was his forty thousand pounds a-year, landed property, besides his employments. AU 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 plea- sure 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 favourable to him than her heart, and that the most she could do for hia satisfaction was to marry him without re- luctance. 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 accomplish- ment 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 imder 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 298 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 honour, that had been set aside, as we have before mentioned, upon her leaving the duchess's service, had recourse to Lady Castlemaine's protect tion : she had a very entertaining wit : her complaisance was adapted to all humours, and her own humour 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 intrigues of the court, she related them without any manner of reserve to Miss Jennings, and her own with the same frankness as the others : Miss Jennings was extremely well pleased with her stories ; for though she was determined to make no experiment in love, but upon honourable 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 disre- putable company she kept. Miss Jennings was haughty be- yond conception, when once she took it iato 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 2ier conduct, he might take the. trouble to go back as soon as MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 299 he pleased." He was offended at a sally -wliicli he thought Ul-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 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 weak ness of Lady Castlemaine, and above two since the king had been weary of his triumphs : his uncle, being uue of the first who perceived the king's disgust, obliged him to absent him- self 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 honoured with public distinction, and who still received a considerable support from him, should appear chained to the car of the most ridiculous conqueror that ever existed. 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 favours upon Jacob HaU, the rope-dancer, who was able to return them, than lavish away her money upon Jermyn to no purpose, since it would be more honourable for her to pass for the mistress of the fii'st, than for the very humble servant of the other, she was not proof against his raiUery. The impetuosity of her temper broke forth like lightning : she told him " that it very ill became him to throw out such re* 300 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. proaches against one, who, of all the women in England, de- served them the least ; that he had never ceased quarrelling thus unjustly with her, ever since he had betrayed hi^ own mean low incltaations ; that to gratify such a depraved taste as his, he wanted only such silly things as Stewart, WeUs, and that pitiful strolling actress,* whom he had lately iatroduced into their society." Floods of tears.from rage, generally attended 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 something to obtain it, he was obliged to be at great expense, in order to reconcile this last rupture : as they could not agree of them- selves, and both parties equally complained, the Chevalier de Grammont was chosen, by mutual consent, mediator of the treaty. The grievances and pretensions on each side were communicated to him, and what is very extraordinary, he managed so as to please them both. Here foUow the articles of peace, which they agreed to : " That Lady Castlemaine should for ever 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 behaviour towards her : that in consideration of these condescensions, his majesty * Trobably Nell Gwyn. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 301 should immediately give lier the title of duchess,* with all the honoura 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 Lady Castlemaine, and never losing, had, for his own sake, insisted a little too strongly upon this last article. Some days after, she was created Duchess of Cleveland, and little Jermyn repaired to hia country-seat : however, it was in his power to have returned in a fortnight; for the Chevalier de Grammont, having procured the king's per- mission, carried it to the Earl of St. Alban's : 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 neighbourhood, who regarded him as an extraordinary 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 concerning 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 consequence; and to subdue the last, he even looked upon as an action worthy of his prowess ; and quitting * The title of Duchess of Cleveland vras conferred on her 3rd August, 22 Charles 11., 167a 302 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. his retreat for tlu's purpose, he amved 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 gallantfy. 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 en- counters: she nevertheless had the greatest curiosity to see a man, whose entire person, she thought, must he a moving tro- phy, and monument of the favours and freedoma of the fair sex. Thus Jermyn anived at the right time to satisfy her curiosity by his presence ; aaid though his brilliancy appeared a little tarnished by his residence in the country ; 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, tOl this time, had behaved with so much pro- priety in aU. 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 amaze- ment 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 indiffer- ence, he kept at a distance to view how far such an extrava- gant prepossession would proceed. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 303 In the mean time Jermyn quietly enjoyed the happiness of seeing the inclinations of the prettiest and most extraordinary creature in England declared in his favour. The duchess, who had taken her under her protection ever since she had declined placing herself under that of the duke, sounded Jer- myn'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 Jennings of a near approaching happy settlement : but in this world one must have fortune in one's favour, before one can calculate with certainty upon happiness. The king did not use to let Lord Eochester remain so long in exile : he grew weary of it, and being displeased that he was fotgotten, 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 confusion, 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 entertainments ; and, as occasion offered, to those of their loving spouses ; as he was able to adapt himself to all capacities and humours, he soon deeply insinuated him- self into the esteem of the substantial wealthy aldermen, and into he affections of their more delicate, maenificent. and 304 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. tender ladies : he made one in all their feasts, and at all their assemblies ; and, whUst 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: ho agreed ■with them, that the industrious poor were to pay for these cursed extravagances ; 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 satisiied 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 Eochester, KUlegrew, and Sidney were suffered 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 retreated into one of the most obscure corners of the city : where, again changing both his name and his dress, in order to act a new part, he caused bills to be dispersed, giving notice of " The recent arrival of a famous German doctor,* who, by long ap- * Bishop Burnet confirms this account. — " Being under an un.ucly accident, which oLliged him to keep out of the way, he disguised him- self so, that his nearest friends could not have known him, and set up iu 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 natuially, that even those who were in the secret, and saw him in these shapes, could per- ceive nothing by which he might he discovered." — Bumel's Life of Hochesier, ed. 1774, p. 14. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 305 plication and experience, had found out wonderful secrets, and infaUible remedies." His secrets consisted in knowing what was past, and foretelling what was to come, by the assistance of astrology : and the virtue of his remedies principally con- sisted in giving present relief to unfortunate young women in all manner of diseases, and aU kinds of accidents incident to the fair sex, either from too unbounded charity to their neigh- bours, or too great indulgence to themselves. Hi a first practice being confined to his neighbourhood, was not very considerable ; but his reputation soon extending to the other end of the town, there presently flocked to him the women attending on the court, next, the chamber-maids of ladies of quality, who, upon the wonders they related concern- ing the German doctor, were soon followed by some of their mistresses. Among all the compositions of a ludicrous and satirical kind, there never existed any that could be compared to those of Lord Eochester, either for humour, fire, or wit ; but, of aU his works, the most ingenious and entertaining is that which contains a detail of the intrigues and adventures in which he was engaged while he professed medicine and astrology in the suburbs of London. The fair Jennings was very near getting a place in this collection ; but the adventure that prevented her from it, did not, howevever, conceal from the public her intention of pay- ing a visit to the German doctor. The first chamber-maids that consulted him were only those of the maids of honour ; who had numberless questions to ask, and not a few doubts to be resolved, both upon their own and their mistresses' accounts. Notwithstanding their disguise, he recognised some of them, particularly Miss Temple's and Miss Price's maids, and her whom Miss Hobart had lately discarded: 3o6 , MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. these creatures all returned either filled mth wonder and amazement, or petrified mth terror and fear. Sliss Temple's chamber-maid deposed that he assured her she would have the sma]l-pox, and her mistress the great, within two months at farthest, if her aforesaid mistress did not guard against a man in woman's clothes. Miss Price's woman affirmed that, with- out knowing her, and only looking in her hand, he told her at fii'st sight that, according to the course of the stars, he per- ceived that she was in the service of some good-natured lady, who had no other fault than 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 di- verted their mistresses with the account, not failing, according to custom, to emheUish 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, Snd see what sort of a creature this new magician was. This en- terprise was certainly very rash ; but nothing was too rash for Miss Jennings, who was of opinion that a woman^ m@it des- pise appearances, provided she was in reality virtuous. Miss Price was all compliance, and thus having fixed upon this glorious resolution, they only thought of the proper means of putting it yito execution. »» It was very difficult for Miss Jennings to disguise herself, on account of her excessive fair and bright complexion, 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 • These frolics appear to have been not unfrequent with persons of high rank at this period. In a letter from Ms. Henshaw to Sir Robert Paston, afterwards Earl of Yarmouth, dated October 13, 1670, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 307 •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 es- cort than their o-wn caprice and indiscretion. The duchess was gone to the play with her sister : Miss Jennings had excused herself under pretence of indisposition : she was over-joyed at the happy commencement of their ad- •we have the following account : " Last -week, there being a faire neai-e Audley-end, the queen, the Dutchess of Richmond, and the Dutchess of Buckingham, had a frolick to disguise themselves like country lasses, in red petticoats, vrastcotes, &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. Eoper before Eichmond. 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 of yellow stockings for her sweet hart, and Sir Bemaid 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 neighbours, behind them, to get as much gape as they could, till they brought them to the court gate. Thus, by ill conduct, was a merry frolick turned into a penance." — Iv^s Select Fapers, p. 39. Bishop Burnet says, "at this time, (1668,) the court fell into milCU extravagance in masquerading : both the king and queen, all the court, went about masked, and came into houses unknown, and danced there, with a great deal of wild frolic. In all this people were so disguised, that, without being in the secret, none could distinguioh them. They were cairried about in hackney chairs. Once the queen's chairmen, not knowing who she was, went from her. So she was alone, and was much disturbed, and came to Whitehall in a hackney coach ; some Bay in a (»xl."— Burnet's Uistory, vol. i., p. 368, 3o8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. venture ; for they had disguised themselves, had crossed the Park, and taken their hackney coach at Whitehall gate, with', out the least accident. They mutually congratulated eaci other upon it, and Miss Price, taking a beginning so prospe- rous 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, however, she was resolved to ask him, without naming any person, why a man, who was in love with a handsome young lady, was not ujgent 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 astro- loger, nothing 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 since fortune fa- voured 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 play- house 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 answei; KiUegrew came next, and the MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 309 fair Jennings, partly encouraged by the other's pertness, ad- vanced towards him, and offered him her basket, whilst Price, more used to the language, desired Tiim to buy her fine oranges. " Not now," said he, looking at them with attention ; " but if thou wilt to-morrow morning bring this young girl to my lod- gings, I will make it worth all the oranges in London to thee :" and while he thus spoke to the one he chucked the other under the chin, examining her bosom. These familiarities making little 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 — "Hal ha 1" said he, " here's a rarity indeed I a young w — , who, the better to sell her goods, sets up for virtue, and pretends inno- cence !" 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 her away, while she was still in emotion at the insult that had been offered to her. Miss Jennings, resolving tp sell no more oranges on these terms, was tempted to return, without accomplishing the other adventure ; but Price having represented to her the disgrace of such cowardly behaviour, 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 hundred persons to the Ger- man doctor's : they were. within half a street of his house, when fortune thought proper to play them a trick, 310 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. Broimker* 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 ap- peared to have a very pretty face, immediately drew his atten- tion ; besides, he had a natural curiosity for such objects. Of all the men at court, he had the least regard for the 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 him- self 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 aU the rest. He had a little country-house four or five nules from London always well stocked with girls :t in other respects he was a very honest man, and the best chess-player in England. * 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 BO 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; being a person, throughout his whole life, never notorious for anything but the highest degree of impudence, and stooping to the most infamous oflnces, and playing very well at chess, which preferred him more than the most virtuous qualities could have done." — Continuation of C'larendou't Life, p. 270. t Brounker, Love's squire, through all the field array 'd, No troop was better clad, nor so well paid. Andrew Marvell's Poems, vol. ii., p. 94. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 311 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 coach- man to drive on. Brounker followed them unperceived on foot ; and the coach having stopped twenty or thirty yards farther up the sti-eet, they alighted. He was just behind them, and formed the same judgment of them which a man much more charitable to the sex must unavoidably have done, con- cluding 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 pur- chase 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 themselves up for lost ; but he, without taking the least notice of their surprise, tqok 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, with- out either answering or looking at him : As this conduct appeared to him unnatural, he stared her fuU in the face, not- withstanding all her endeavours 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 re- move all suspicions he quitted them, telling Price; "That 3 M 312 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 honour forestalled the market, and were to he had cheaper than the town ladies." Upon this he went back to his coach, whilst they blessed hemselves, returning heaven their most hearty thanks for having escaped this danger without being discovered. Brounker, on the other hand, would not have taken a thou- sand guineas for this rencounter : he blessed the Lord 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 overwhelmed 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 appre- hension he was in of preserving him from that accident, was his sole reason for quitting them with the precautions afore- mentioned. Whilst they were under these alarms, their coachman 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 com- mencement of the fray as they were returning 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 difBculty they could persuade him to leave their oranges to the mob, that they might get off without any further dis- turbance: having thus regained their hack, after a thousand MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 313 frights, and after having received an ahundant snare 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 entertained 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 ; siuce 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 marriage, .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 mentioned, at a relation's : the Chevalier de Grammont bore this short absence of hers with great uneasiness, since she would not allow hiTTi permission to visit her there, upon any pretence whatever ; but play, which was favouraMe to him, was no small relief to his extreme impatience. Miss Hamilton, however, at last returned. Mrs. Weten- haU * (for that was the name of her relation) would by all means wait upon her to London, in appearance out of polite- * Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Henry Bedingfield, and wife of Thomas Wetenhall, of Hextall Court, near East Peckham, in the county of Kent, See CoUins's Baronetage, p. 216. The family of WhetenhaU, or Whet- nall, 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 WhetenhaU, Esq., alienated it to John Fane, Earl of Westmoreland. Of this family was Edward WhetenhaU, a celebrated polemical writer, who, in 1678, was consecrated bishop of Corke and Koss. — See Wood's Athena Oxoniensis, vol. ii., p. 851, 998. 314 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ness ; for ceremony, carried beyond all bearing, is the grand cliaracteristie 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 honour of conducting Miss Hamilton up to London, had he not been employed in writing some re- marks upon the ecclesiastical history, a work in which he had long been engaged : the ladies were more civil than to inter- rupt him in his undertaking, and besides, it would entirely have disconcerted all Mrs. Wetenhall's schemes. This lady was what may be properly called a beauty, en- tirely English, made up of lilies and roses, of snow and milk, as to colour ; 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 : one would have thought she took it in the morning out of a 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 taking orders, he came to England, and took to wife Miss Beding- field, the lady of whom we are now speaking. His person was not disagreeable, but he had a serious con- templative air, very apt to occasion disgust : as for the rest, she might boast of having one of the greatest theologists in the kingdom for her husband : he was aU 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 315 table would have been very brisk, if Mrs. WetenhaU 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 London ; 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 tlierefore without reason, that she grew weary of the life she was forced to lead at Peckham* The melancholy retired situation of .the place was to her insupportable ; and as she had the foUy, incident to many other women, of believing sterility to be a kind of reproach, ^he was very much hurt to see that she might fall under that suspicion ; for she was per- suaded, that although heaven had denied her children, she nevertheless had all the necessary requisites on her part, if it had been the will of the Lord. This had occasioned her to make some reflections, and then to reason upon those reflec- tions ; as for instance, that since her- husband chose rather to devote himself to his studies, than to the duties of matri- mony, 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 neighbourly charity, pro- vided she could do it conscientiously, and to direct her in- clinations in so just a manner, that the evil spirit should have no concern in it. Mr. WetenhaU, a zealous partisan • "Peckham 'is about ten miles off Tunbridge Wells. Sir "WiUiam Twisden has an ancient mansion here, which has been long in that family."— ^wrj-"* History of Tunbridge Wells, 8vo, 1766, p. 237. Mr. Hasted says, the estate was purchased by Sir William Twisden of Henry Whetenhall, Esq. — Hasted' t Kent, vol. ii. p. 274. 3i6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. for the doctrine of the casuists, would not perhaps have ap- proved of these decisions ; but he was not consulted. The greatest misfortune was, that neither solitary PecMiam nor its sterile neighbourhood, presented any expedients, either for the execution of the afore-mentioned design, or for the relief of poor Mrs. WetenhaU : she was visibly pining away, when, through fear of dying either vfith solitude or of want, she had recourse to Miss Hamilton's commiseration. Their first acquaintance wasYormed at Paris, whither Mr. WetenhaU 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 coimtry 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 Granunont, 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 London. 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 neglected his person : however, with all his impatience, he checked the ardour of the coachman, through fear of accidents, 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 h,ave purchased with his life so kind a reception as she gave her brother. Mrs. WetenhaU had her share of the praises, which at this interview were liberally bestowed upon her beauty, for which jher beauty was very thanMul to those who did it so much MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 317 honour ; and as Hamilton regarded her with a tender attention, she regarded Hamilton as a man very -well qualified for put- ting in execution the little projects she had concerted with her conscience. As soon as she was in London, her head was almost turned, through an excess of contentment and felicity: everything appeared- like enchantment to her in this superb city; more particularly, as in Paris she had never seen anything farther than the Eue Saint Jacques, and a few booksellers' shops. Miss Hamilton entertained her at her own house, and she was pre- sented, admired, and weU received at both courts. The Chevalier de Grajnmont, whose gallantry and magni- ficence were inexhaustible, taking occasion, from this fair stranger's arrival, to exhibit his grandeur, nothing was to be seen but balls, concerts, plays, excursions by land and by water, splendid collations and sumptuous entertainments : Mrs. WetenhaU was transported with pleasures, of which the greatest part were entirely new to her j she was greatly de- lighted 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 weU 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 endeavours to deter- mine her to put in execution the projects she had formed at Peckham: Mrs. WetenhaU, on the other hand, was much pleased with him. This is the Hamilton who served in the 3i8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Frencli anny with distinction ;* lie wag Loth agi'eeaLle and handsome. All imaginable opportunities conspired to favour the establishment of an intimacy, whose commencement had been so brisk, that in all probability it would not languish for a conclusion ; 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, tept her in suspense : there was rea,Gon to believe that a little perseverance would have removed these obstacles ; yet this at the present time was not attempted. Hanultou, not able to conceive what could prevent her from * I apprehend ha is the same George Hamilton already described, ■who married Miss Jennings, and not the author of this work, as Lord Orf ord supposes. In a letter from Arlington to Sir William Godolphin, dated September 7, 1671, it is said, " the Conde de Molina oomplaius to ua of certain levies Sir George Hamilton hath made in Ireland. The king hath always told him he had no express license for it ; and I have told the Cond(5 he must not find it strange that a gentleman who had been bred the king's page abroad, and losing his employment at home, for being a Eoman Catholic, should have some more than ordi- naiy connivance towards the making his fortune abroad by the coun- tenance of his friends and relatic-as in Ireland : and yet take the matter in the worst sense he could give, it would not amount to the breach of any article betwixt the king my master and the court of Spain." — Arlington's Letters, vol. ii., p. 333. In a letter from the same nobleman to Lord Sandwich, written about October, 1667, we find the cause of Sir George Hamilton's entering into the French service : "Concerning the rcformadoes of the guards of horse, his majesty thought fit, the other day, to have them dismissed, according to his pro- mise, made to the parliament at the last session. Mr. Hamilton had a secret overture made him, that he, with those men, should be welcome iuto the French service ; his majesty, at their dismissal, having de- clared they should have leave to go abroad whither they pleased. They accepted of Mr. Hamilton's ofi'er to carry them into France," — Arlington's Letters, vol. i., p. 185. Lodge, in his Peerage of Ireland, says. Sir George Hamilton died in 1667, which, from the first extract above, appears to be erroneous. He has evidently confounded the father and son ; the former of whom was the person •.vho died in 1C67, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT: 319 completing his happiness, since in his opinion the first and greatest difficulties of an amour ■were already overcome, with respect to the public, resolved to abandon her to her irresolu- tions, instead of endeavouring to conquer them by a more vigorous attack. It was not consistent with reason, to desist from an enterprise, where so many prospects of success pre- sented themselves, for such inconsiderable obstacles ; but he suffered himseK to be intoxicated with chimeras and visions, which unseasonably cooled the vigour of his pursuit, and led him astray in another unprofitable undertaldng. I Icnow not whether poor WetenhaU took the blame upon herseK ; but it is certain, she was extremely mortified 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, siuce she had been initiated into the amusements of London ; but as the queen was to set out within a month for Tunbridge Wells, she was obliged to yield to necessity, and return to the philo- sopher, WetenhaU, 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. Miss Hamilton promised not to abandon her in her retire- ment, and further engaged to bring the Chevalier de Grammont along with her, whose humour and conversation extremely delighted her. The Chevalier de Grammont, who on all occa- sions started agreeable raillery, engaged on his part to biing George Hamilton, which words overwhelmed her with blushes. The court set out soon after* to pass about two months in • This was in 1664, probably as soon as the queen was sufficiently recovered from the illness mentioned in note on p. 153. See Bun'i Uiitory of Tunbridge Wells, p. 43. 2 N 320 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. the place of all Europe the most rural and simple, and yet, at the same time, the most entertaining and agreeable. Tunhridge is the same dii^tance from London, that Fon- tainebleau 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 diversion, ever exceed the number of those who go thither for health. Everything there breathes mirth and pleasure : constraint is banished, familiarity is estab- lished upon the &'st accj^uaintance, 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 straggling and sepa- rated from each other, a mile and a half all round the Wells, ■where the company meet in the moiuing: this place consists of a long walk, shaded by spreading trees, under which they walk while they are diinking the waters : on one side of tliis walk is a long row of shops, plentifully stocked with all manner of toys, lace, gloves, stockings, aud M'here there is raffling, as at Paris, in the Poire 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. Here young, fair, fresh-coloured 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 intrigxies. As soon as the even- ing 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 caijet ia the world. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 321 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 Peck- ham, could not excuse herself from passing the remainder of the season at his house ; aud, having obtained leave of Mr. WetenhaU, that his lady should accompany her, they left the melancholy residence of Peckham, and its tiresome master, and fixed their little court at Summer-hill.-f- * Eldest son to the Earl of Clancarty ; " a young man," says Lord Clarendon, " of extraordinary courage and expectation, who had beeu 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'a 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 ho 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 formerly had it in possession, to raise a debt of three thousand pounds, pretended due to her from the said earle, (which she bad 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. It is now the residence of WiUiam Woodgate, Esq. A writer, supposed to be the Reverend Richard Oneley, thus describes it in 1771 j "The house being too large for the family of the present possessor, some of the state rooms are not made use of, or furnished ; but in them are Btill remaining superb chimney-pieces, fine carved wainscot, and other 322 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. They went every day to court, or the court came to them. The queen even surpassed her usual attentions in inventing and supporting entertainments : she endeavoured to increase the natural ease and freedon 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 uneasiness she could not overcome, she saw Miss Stewart triumphantly possess the affections of the king without mani- festing the least uneasiness. Never did love see his empire in a more flourishing condi- tion than on this spot : those who were smitten before they monuments of their former grandeur and magnificence. In thq diuing-room, above stairs, are figures, flowers, and other ornaments in stucco ; particularly, a representation in relievo, over the chimney- piece, of the angelic host (as it is thought) rejoicing in the creation of the world ; a design seemingly taken from Job, chap, xxxvii., v. 7. The house is inclosed with four courts, E. W. N. S. The front court, through which is the grand approach to the house, looks towards the west ; from whence you have a fine prospect to the Surrey hills before yon, and Seven-oak hills on the right. The prospect is limited by Baron Smythe's park on the left. The town and castle of Tunbridge, the navigable river Medway, and the rich meadows through which it runs, finely diversified with corn-fields, pasturage, hop-gardens, and orchards, are here in full view, and form a most beautiful scene. From the opposite court, on the west side of the house, are seen the Canter- bury hills, near Dover, at the distance of about fifty miles ; but this view, and the several objects it comprises, is best enjoyed from a rising hill, on which grow two large oaks, at a little distance southward from the house. From this stand, a stranger may behold at leisure a valley equal to Tempe, Andalusia, or Tiuian." — General Account of Tun- bridge Wells and its Environs ; printed for G. Pearoh, 8vo, p. 37. Mr. Hasted says, " that Lady Muskerry having, by her expensive way of life, wasted her estate, she, by piece-meals, sold oflf a great part of the demesne lands, lying mostly on the southern side of South-frith, to different persons ; and dying in great distress, was buried accordingly, about the year ieS&."—JIisiory of Kent, vol ii., p. 341. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 323 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 ap- peared in the conduct of Prince Eupert.* He was brave and courageous, even to rashness ; but cross- grained and incorrigibly obstinate : his genius was fertile ia mathematical experiments, and he possessed some knowledge of chemistry : he was polite even to excess, unseasonably ; but^ * Lord Oxford's contrast to this character of Prince Eupert is too just to be here omitted. " Born with the taste of an uncle whom his sword was not fortunate in defending, Prince Eupert 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 heen peaceful, how agree- ably had the prince's congenial propensity Sattered and confirmed the inclination of his uncle ! How the muse of arts would have repaid the patronage of the monarch, when, for his first artist, she would have pre- sented him with his nephew ! How difierent a figure did the same prince make in a reign of dissimilar complexion! The philosophic wan-ior, who could relax himself into the ornament of a refined court, was thought a savage mechanic, when courtiera were only voluptuous wits. Let me transcribe a picture of Prince Eupert, drawn by a man who was far from having the least portion of wit in that age, who was superior to its indehcacy, and who yet was bo overborne by its preju- judices, that he had the complaisance to ridicule virtue, merit, talents. — But Prince Eupert, alas 1 was an awk'ward 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 colours to efface the harsher likeness ! We can but oppose facts to wit, truth to satire. — How unequal 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 pohsh which alone can make a court attract the attention of sub- sequent ages." — Catalogue of Engravers, p 135, 8vo ed. 324 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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-favoured visage, and a stern look, even when he wished to please ; but, when he was out of humour, 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 ISTeU Gwyn, part of the uneasiness she felt from hers. Prince Eupert 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 of the forges: a complete farewell to all ma- thematical 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 favours at a dearer rate, she caused the poor prince to act a part so unnatural, that he no longer appeared like the same person. The king was greatly pleased with this event, for which great rejoicings were made at Tun- bridge ; but nobody was bold enough to make it the subject of * Mrs. Hughes was one of the actresses belonging to the king's company, and one of the earliest female performers. According to Downs, she commenced her theatrical career after the opening of Drury- lane theatre, in 1663. She appears to have been the first female re- presentative of Desdemona. By Prince Eupert she had a daughter, named Buperta^ married to Lieutenant-general Howe, who survived her husband many years, dying at Somerset house, about the year 1740. For Mrs. Hughes Prince Eupert 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. 325 satire, though the same constraint was not observed with other ridiculous personages. There was dancing every day at the queen's apartments, because the physicians recommended it, and no person thought it amiss : for even those who cared least for it, chose that exercise to digest the waters rather than walking. Lord Mus- kerry thought himself secure against his lady's rage for danc- ing ; 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 aU on one side, so that even Euclid would have been puzzled to say what her figure was. The disconsolate lady, seeing Miss Hamilton and Mrs. WetenhaU 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 Timbridge than in reality there were, and she did not cease in her imagination, 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 de- clared her resolution to make a trip to court. . She had a domestib chaplain who did not want sense, and Lord Muskerry, for fear of accidents, had recommended her to the wholesome counsels and good prayers of this prudent divine; but in vain were ail his preachings and exhortations to stay at home ; in vain did he set before her eyes her husband's com- mands, and the dangers to which she would expose herself in her present condition ; he likewise added that her pregnancy, 326 MEMOIRS OF COUNT CRAMMONT. being a particular blessing from beaven, 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 altogether ineffec- tual: Miss Hamilton and her cousin Wetenhall, having the complaisance to confirm her in her resolution, they assisted in dressing her the next morning, and set out along with her : aU their skill and dexterity were 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 coun- teract 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 per- fectly 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 appear- ance she then made, being made acquainted with the motive of her journey, was determined to gratify her inclinations. 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 327 of the presence of her husband, which would have destroyed all her happiness, she danced with uncommon briskness, lest her iU stars should bring him back before she had fuUy satis- fied herself with it. In the midst, therefore, of her capering ia 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 ia his coat, and, mimicking the cries of a new-born infant, he went about iaquiring for a nurse for the young Muskerry among the maids of honour. This buffoonery, joined to the strange figure of the poor lady, had almost thrown Miss Stewart into hysterics ; for the princess of Babylon, after this accident, was quite flat on one side, and immoderately protuberant on the other. AH 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 dis- concerted : every person was of&cious to console her ; but the queen, who inwardly laughed more heartily than any, pre- tended to disapprove of their taking such liberties. Whilst Miss Hamilton and Mrs. WetenhaH endeavoured to refit Lady Muskerry in another room, the Duke of Buck- ingham told the king that, if the physicians would permit a little exercise immediately after a delivery, the best way to re- cover Lady Muskerry was to renew the dance as soon as ever her infant was replaced j this advice was approved, and accord- ingly put in ezecution. The queen proposed, as soon as she appeared, a second round of country-dances ; and Lady Mus- kerry accepting the offer, the remedy had its desired effect, and entirely 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 Lon- 328 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. don ;* the pretence of this journey was to visit the county whose name he bore; but love was the real motive. The duchess, since her elevation, had conducted herself with such prudence and circumspection, as could not be sufficiently ad- mired : such were her manners, and such the general estima- tion 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 having gained universal esteem, she was desirous of being more particularly beloved ; or, more properly speaking, ma- licious 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 falling in love with her, he had done her too much honour by making her his wife ; that with respect to his inconstant 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, wliich might to her appear in- jurious, would never justify in her the least deviation from her duty; and, as resentment was stUl less allowable, she ought to endesjVour to regain him by a conduct entirely opposite to * In Sir John Eeres'by'a Memoira, 8vo. 1735, p. 11, sub anno 1665, it is said, Aug. 5, " his Eoyal Highness the Duke and his Duchess came down to York, where it was observed that Mr. Sidney, the hand- somest 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 tine 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 mentions this transaction, and insinuates, that to this cause is to be ascribed the duchess's conversion to popery. — See Burners History oj his Own Times, voL L, p. 318. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 329 his own. In vain was it, as we have said befdre, that she had long resisted Love and his emissaries by the help of these maxims : how solid soever reason, and however obstinate wis- dom and virtue may be, there are yet certain 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 Eng- land : as this was an unforbidden pleasure she indulged herself in it, as an indemnification for other self-deniala. It was really an edifying sight to see her at table. The duke, on the con- trary, being incessantly in the hurry of new fancies, exhausted himself by his inconstancy, 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 continued in this situation, if Love, who was resolved to have satisfaction for her late conduct, so opposite to the former, had not employed ar- tifice as well as force, to disturb 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 honour, became • Miss Arabella Cliurclull, daughter of Sir Winston ChurcMU of Wotton Basset, in the county of WUts, 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 OburchUl afterwards became the wife of Charles Godfrey, Esq., derk-comptroller of the green cloth, and master of the jewel office, by whom she had two daughters; one, Charlotte, married to Lord Falc^outh; and the otb er, Elizabeth, to Edmund Dunch, Esq. Mrs. Godfrey died in May, 1730, at the age of 82. 330 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. the object of her j'ealousy, because she was then tbe object oi the duke's eiffection. 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 cboice which seemed to debase her own merit in a much greater degree tban any of the former ; at the very instant that indignation and jealousy began to provoke her spleen, 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 defi- ciency of his mental accomplishments : she was wounded be- fore 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 o£ her royal highness had the kindness to tell him, whilst his per- sonal accomplishments were carefully heightened by all the advantages of dress and show. The duchess, foreseeing the consequences of such an engage- ment, 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 insinuated 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 agreeable to her mistress : she knew, likewise, how to gratify her palate, and MEMOrRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 331 constantly provided a variety of those dishes and liquors which she liked best. These qualifications had rendered her neces- sary ] but, desirous of being stOl more so, and having perceived both the airs that Sidney gave himseK, and what was passing in the heart of her mistress, the cunning Hobart took the liberty of telling her royal highness that this unfortunate 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 the whole court ; that his situation would soon be generally re- marked, 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 endeavour to alleviate his pain in some way or other. The duchess asked her what she meant by " endeavouring to alleviate his pain in some way or other." " I mean, madam," answered Miss Hobart, " that, if either his person be disagree- able, or his passion troublesome, you wOl give him his dis- charge ; or, if you choose to retain him in your service, as aU the princesses in the world would do in your place, you will permit me to give him directions from you for his future con- duct, mixed with a few grains of hope, to prevent his entirely losing his senses, until you find a proper occasion yourseK 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 honour, 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 iU-requital on my part for his goodness who raised me to the rank I now filL 332 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. to " " All tills 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 1 Is it still your intpntion to persevere in a state of indolence and humility, whilst the duke, after having received the favours, or suffered the repulses, of aU the coquettes in England, pays his addresses to the maids of honour, one after the other, and at present places his whole ambition and desires in the con- quest of that ugly skeleton, ChurchiU? What! Madam, must then your prime of life be spent in a sort of widowhood in deploring your misfortimes, without ever being permitted to make use of any remedy that may offer ? A woman must be endowed with insuperable patience, or with an inexhaustible degree of resignation, to bear this. Can a husband, who dis- regards 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 universe who would refuse the homage of a man like Sidney, when a husband pays his addresses elsewhere." These reasons were certainly not morally good ; but had they been stiU 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 in- foimed by the confidant Hobart that the goddess accepted his MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 333 adoration than he immediately began to be particularly re- served and circumspect in his behaviour, 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: Jeimyn was not of the party ; and, in her 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 this race was the very same in which Miss Jennings went to the fortune-teller's. Jermyn was more fortunate than her in this undertaking : he came off victorious ; but as his courage had far exceeded the strength of his constitution in this exertion 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 physi- ciaus, 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 charitable visit would not have been censured in a malicious court. Without therefore pa3dng any attention 334 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. to the uneasiness she might feel upon the occasion, the court set cut without him : she hfad, however, the gratification to testify her ill-humour throughout the whole journey, by appearing displeased with everything which seemed to afford satisfaction to aU the rest of the company. Talbot made one of the company ; and flattering himself that the absence of a dangerous rival might produce some change in his favour, he was attentive to all the actions, mo- tions, and even gestures, of his former mistress. There was certainly enough fully to employ his attention : it was con- trary to her disposition to remain long in a serious humour. Her natural vivacity hurried her away, from being seemingly lost in thought, into sallies of wit, which afforded him hopes that she would 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 Ul became an injured lover to betray either the least weakness, or the smallest return' of affection, for an ungrateful mistress, who had deserted him. Miss Jennings was so far from thinking of his resentments, 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 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 bim than any other person, and, without intending it, did everything to make the court believe she was cured of her passion for Jermyn in favour of her former lover. Of this he seemed Ukewise convinced, as well as the rest ; and thinking it now proper to act another part, in order to let her laiow that his sentiments with respect to her were still MEMOIRS OF COUNT'GRAMMONT. 335 the same, he had resolved to address her in the most tender and afiectionate manner upon this subject. Fortune seemed to have favoured 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 begia the recital of his sufferings and fidelity, when Miss Temple, with a paper in her hand, entered the room. This was a letter in verse, which Lord Eochester 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 stature ; but that Jermyn, like a little David, had vanquished the great Goliath.' Jennings, delighted with this allusion, read it over two or three times, thought it more en- tertaining than Talbot's conversation, at first heartUy 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 liimself so ridiculously deceived in his hopes, he went abruptly out of the room, vowiag 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 continual balls and entertainments upon the road ; hunting, and all other diversions, wherever the court halted in its progress. The tender lovers flattered 336 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. themselves with the thought of being able to crown their hap- piness as they proceeded in their journey ; and the beauties who governed their destiny did not forbid them to hope. Sid- ney 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 S,-propos, got himself killed where he had no business,* the duke obtained for Montagu the post of master of the horse to the queen, which the deceased enjoyed ; and the handsome 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 * Montagu's elder brother was killed before Bergen, about August, 1665. See Arlington's Letters, vol. ii. p. 87. His name was Edward. Boyer, who in his Life of Queen Anne, has made several mistakes about him, says he was dismissed for offending her majesty, by squeezing her hand. Probably he was disgraced for a time, and on that account Went abroad. — See Oontinuation of Clarendon, p. 292. He is mentioned in the State Poems as — Montagu, by court disaster, Dwindled into the wooden horse's master. Advice to a Fainter, Part i. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 337 remarked, some did her the honour to believe it was upon her own account ; and the compliments that were made her upon the occasion she most willingly receiTed. The duke, who be- lieved 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 had made his choice ; but it is certain he began to cool in his affections for Miss Churchill ; and perhaps be woiild en- tirely have abandoned this pursuit, had not an accident faken 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 particulai'ly 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 conversation, by the uncommon beauty of his mien and figure. The duke attended Miss Churchill, not for the sake of besieging her with soft flattering tales of love, but, on the con- trary, 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 honour are generally the worst mounted of the whole court, yet, in order to distinguish her, on account of the favour she enjoyed, they had given her a very pretty, though 338 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. rather a high-spirited horse ; a distinction she would veiy Tdllingly have excused them. The embarrassment and fear she was mider had added to her natural paleness. In this situation, her countenance had almost completed the duke's disgust, when her horse, desirous of keeping pace with the others, set off in a gallop, notwith- standing her greatest efforts to prevent it ; and her endeavours to hold him in, firing his mettle, he at length set off at fuU 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 favourable to her in every respect ; for, with- out receiving any hurt, she gave the lie to all the unfavourable 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 em- ployed than about decency on the present occasion ; and those who first crowded around her found her rather in a negligent posture: they could hardly believe that Hmbs of such ex- quisite 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 jbime, equally satisfied with their respective excursions; 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 Grammont 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 339 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 excursion, he had every day seen Miss Hamilton, either in the marshes of melan- choly 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 waa persuaded that Heaven had ne\ er formed an object in every respect more worthy of the love, and more deserving of the affec- tion, of a man of sense and delicacy. How then was it pos- sible for him to bear the thoughts of leaving her ? This ap- peared to him absolutely impracticable ; however, 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 thefirst place, congratulated him upon his recall : She returned him many thanks for the sacrifice he in- tended to make her ; but as this testimony of affection greatly exceeded the bounds of mere gallantry, however sensibly she might feel this mark of his tenderness, she was, however, deter- mined not to abuse it. In vain did he protest that he would rather meet death than part from her irresistible charms ; and her irresistible 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 34° MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. waa now so urgent ; and having generously given him assur- ances 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. CHAPTER ELEVENTH. EETtJKlJ- OF THE CHEVALIER GEAMMON'T TO FRANCE. — HE IS SENT BACK TO ENGLAND. — VARIOUS LOVE INTRIGUES AT THIS COURT, AND MARRIAGE OF MOST OF THE HEROES OF THESE MEMOIRS. SHE nearer the Chevalier de Grammont approaclied the court of France, the more did he regret his absence from that of England, 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, never- theless, overwhelm him with impertinent 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 tliat prevented his feeling those of the bad roads and the bad horses. His heart protested to Miss Hamilton, between Montreuil and Abbeville 343 344 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. that he only tore himself from her 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 sentiments, or to lengthen out a tedious story ; but God forbid that this character should apply to ourselves, since we profoss to insert nothing in these memoirs, but what we have heard from the mouth of him whose actions and sayings we transmit to pos- terity. Who, except Squire Eeraulas, has ever been able to keep a register of all the thoughts, sighs, and exclamations, 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 I 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 Gram- mont, 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 mouth- ful. Termes, praising the Lord, tliat natural feelings had for once prevailed over the inhumanity of his usual impatience, confirmed him as much as possible in such reasonable senti- ments. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 345 Upon their entering the kitchen, where the Chevalier gener- ally paid his first visit, they -were suipriaed to see half a dozen spits loaded with game at the fire, and every other preparation for a magnificent entertainment. The 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 he forced away from this place before he had satisfied his craving appetite. Soon after, a number of violins and hautboys, attended by aU the mob of the town, entered the court. The landlord, beiug asked the reason of these great preparations, acquainted the Chevalier de Grain mont that they were for the wedding of one of the most wealthy gentlemen in the neighbourhood 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 short time he would see the new-married couple arrive from the church, since the music was already come. He was tight in his conjectures ; for these words were scarce out of his mouth, when three uncommonly large coaches, loaded with lackeys, as tall as Swiss, with most gaudy liveries, all covered with lace, ap- peared in the court, and disembarked the whole wedding company. Never was country magnificence more naturally displayed : Eusty tinsel, tarnished lace, striped silks, little eyes, and full swelling breasts, appeared on every side. If the first sight of the procession surprised the Chevalier de Grammont, faithful Termes was no less astonished at the second. The little that was to be seen of the bride's face appeared not without beauty j 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 con- .cealed her from all human eyes ; but it was the bridegroom 3a6 memoirs of COUNT GRAMMONT. wno most particularly attracted the Chevalier de Grammont'a attention. He was as ridiculously dressed as the rest of the company, 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 commend the embroidery of his coat. The bridegroom thought himself much honoured by this examination, and told him he bought it for one hun- dred and fifty louis, at the time he was paying his addresses to his wife. " Then you did not get it made here ?" said the Chevalier de Grammont. " 'So," 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 recoUect the merchant if he saw him again ? " EecoUect him !" replied the other, " I surely ought ; for I was obliged to sit up drinking with him all night at Calais, as I was endeavouring 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 vigilance of the criminal, whom his master coiild not reproach with having slept in hia service, inclined binfi to clemency ; and yielding to the impor- tunities of the country gentleman, in order to confound his faithful servant, he sat down to table, to make the thirty- seventh of the company. A short time after, he desired one of the waiters to call for a gentleman whose name was Termes. He immediately MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 347 appeared ; and as soon as the master of the feast saw him, he rose from table, and offering him his hand j " 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 purpose." Termes, having put on a face of brass, pretended not to know him, and pushed him back with some degree of rude- ness. " No, no !" said the other ; " since I was obliged to sit up with you the whole night, in order to strike the bar- gain, you shall pledge me in the bride's health." The Cheva- lier de Grammont, who saw that Termes was disconcerted, notwithstanding his impudence, said to bim 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, began to lay about him at such a rate, as if it had been his intention to swallow all the wine provided for the wedding, 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 din- ner ; but they all got up when he arose from table, and all that he could obtain from the bridegroom was that tiie com- pany should not attend bim to the gate of the inn. As for Termes, he wished they had not quitted him tiU the end of their journey, so much did he dread being left alone with hip master. 2 Q . 348 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 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 maimer 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 suffer him to think longer about it ; and, accordingly, arm- ing himself with all his effrontery : " Tou seem to be very angry. Sir," said he, " and I suppose you think you have rea- son for being so ; but the devil take me, if you are not mistaken in reality." " How ! traitor ! in reality ?" said the Chevalier de Gram- mont. " It is then because I have not had thee weU thrashed, as thou hast for a long time merited." " Look ye, Su-," replied Termes, " you always run into a passion, instead of listening to reason ! Yes, Su', I maintain that what I did was for your boncEt." " And was not the quicksand Hlcewise for my ser- vice ?" said the Chevalier de Grammont. " Have patience, if you please," pursued the other : " I know not how that simple- ton of a bridegroom happened to be at the custom-house when my portmanteau was examined at Calais: but those siUy cuckolds thrust in their noses everywhere. As soon as ever he saw your coat, he feU in love with it. I immediately per- ceived he was a fool; for he, fell down upon his knees, beseech- ing me to sell it him. Besides being greatly rumpled in the portmanteau, it was aU 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, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 349 if you would ever liave put it on. In a word, it cost you one hundred and forty louis d'ors, and seeing lie offered me one hun- dred and fifty for it ; 'My master,' said I, 'has lio occasion for this tinselled bauhle 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 loiiis d'ors for it more than it cost you : this you see is all clear profit: I wiU be accountable to you for it, and you know that I am sufficiently substantial 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 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 wedding !" What could the Chevalier reply to such uncommon impu- dence ? If he indulged his resentment, he must either have inost 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 remainder of his journey ; and, as soon as he was at Paris, he had occasion for him for his return. The Mar^chal de Grammont had no sooner notice of his arrival than he went to him at the hotel ; and, the first em- braces being over on both sides, " Chevalier," said the Mard- chal, "how many days have you been in coming from London hither ? for God knows at what a rate you travel on such oc- casions." 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 3SO MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. very entertaining one," said Ids brother ; " but what is yet more entertaining is, that it will be your fault if you do not find your coat still at table ; for the country gentry are not aicus- tomed to rise very soon from a ■wedding dinner." And then, in a very serious tone, told him, " he knew not who had ad- vised him to this unexpected return, which might probably ruin all his affairs ; but he had orders from the king to bid him go back again without appearing at court. He told him after- wards that he was very much astonished at his impatience, as, till this time, he had conducted himself uncommonly well, and was sufficiently 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, produced Madame de Saint Chaumont's letter, and told the Mar&hal that he would very willingly have spared her the trouble of writing him such kind of news, to occasion him so useless a* j ourney. " gtill more indiscretion," replisd hia brother ; "for pray how long has our sister being 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* • Henrietta, youngest daughter of Charles the First, born at Exeter 16tii 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. It was suspected that counter-poisons wore given her ; but when she MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 351 tow you had refused the pension the King of England offered you : he appeared pleased with the manner in which Com- ininges 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 possessing that wonderful discretion she imagines herself mistress of, she hastened to despatch to you this consequential 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 as dinner was over, commanded me to send you back as soon as you arrived. Here you are ; set off again immediately." This order might have appeared severe to the Chevalier de Grammont at any other time ; but, in the present state of his heart, he soon resolved upon obeying. Nothing gave him un- easiness 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 depar- ture, he only desired the Mardchal 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 humo- waa 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 Zord 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. 352 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. rous and diverting a manner, that it would be tedious 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 adven- ture which threw the first slur upon the reputation of the great Saucourt, when, having a tete-a-tete with the gardener's daughter, the horn, which was agreed upon as the signal to prevent surprises, was sounded so often, that the frequent alarms cooled the courage of the celebrated Saucoiu't, and rendered useless the assignation that was procui-ed for him with one of the prettiest girls in the neighbourhood. It was, like- wise, during his stay at Vaugirard, that he paid a visit to Mademoiselle de I'Hopital 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 Pre- sidenj; de Maisons was forced to take refuge in a closet, with so much precipitation, that half of his robe remained on the outside when he shut the door ; while the Chevalier de Gram- mont, who observed it, made his visit excessively long, in order to keep the two lovers upon the rack. His business being settled, he set out for England on tne wings of love. Termes redoubled his vigUance upon the road. The post horses were ready in an instant at every stage: the winds and tides favoured his impatience; and he reached London with the highest satisfaction. The court was both surprised and charmed at his sudden return. No person con- doled with him upon his late disappointment, which had occa- Bioned him to come back, as he testified no manner of uneasi- ness concerning it himself: nor was Miss Hamilton in the MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 353 least displeased at Lis readiness in obeying the orders of the Icing his master. Nothing new had happened in the English court during his short absence ; but it assumed a different aspect soon after hia return : I mean with respect to love and pleasure, which ■were the most serious concerns of the court during the greatest part of this gay reign. Tlie Duke of Monmouth * natural son to Charles the Second, now made his first appearance in his father's court. His en- trance upon the stage of the world was so brilliant, his ambi- * James Duke of Monmouth, was the son of Charles the II., by one Lucy Wallers. 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 ITiomas Eoss, 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 heajjed honours and riches upon him, which were not suificient to satisfy his ambitious views. To exclude his uncle, the Duke of York, from the throne, he was con- tinually intriguing with the opposers of government, and was frequently in disgrace with his sovereign. On the accession of James II. he made an ineffectual attempt to raise a rebellion, was taken prisoner, and beheaded on Tower-hUl, 15th July, 1C85. Mr. Macpherson has drawn his character in the following terms : " Monmouth, highly beloved by the populace, was a fit instrument to carry forward his (i. e. Shaftes- bury's) designs. To a gracefulness which prejudiced mankind in his favour as soon as seen, he joined an affability which gained their Jove. Constant in his friendships, and just to his word, by nature tender, and an utter enemy to severity and cruelty, active and vigorous in hia con- stitution, he excelled in the manly exercises of the field. He was per- sonally brave. He loved the pomp and the very dangers of war. But with these splendid qualities, he was vain to a degree of folly, versatile in his measures, weak in his understanding. He was ambitious without dignity, busy without consequence, attempting ever to be artful, but always a fooL Thus, taking the applause of the multitude for a certain mark of merit, he was the dupe of his own vanity, and owed all his mis- fortunes to that weakness," — History of England, vol. i., chap. iiL 354 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. tion had occasioned so many considerable events, and the par- ticulars 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 undertakings, 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 pecuL'ar delicacy : He had a wonderful genius for every sort of exercise, an engaging aspect, and an air of gran- deur : 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 bim with ; and those who first insinuated themselves into his friendship, took care to inspire him with none but such as were pernicious. The astonislung 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 parti- cularly beloved by the king ; but the universal terror of hus- bands and lovers. This, however, did not long continue ; for nature not having endowed liim with qualifications to secure the possession of the heai't, the fair sex soon perceived the defect. The Duchess of Cleveland was out of humour with the king, because the children she had by his majesty were Mke so many little puppets, compared to tliis 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. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 355 The king, however, laughed at her 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 resent- ment. Not succeeding in this, she formed another scheme to give the king uneasiness : Instead of opposing his extreme tenderness for his son, she pretended to adopt him, in her affec- tion, 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 withdraw 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 biTn so young. An heiress of £ve thousand pounds a-year in Scotland,* • This was Lady Anne Scott, daughter and sole heir of Francis, Earl of Buoclengh, only son and heir of Walter, Lord Scott, created Earl of Buccleugh in 1619. On their marriage the duke took the surname of Scott, and he and his lady were created Buke and Duchess of Buccleugh, Earl and Coimtess of Dalkeith, Baron and Baroness of Whitchester and AshdaJe in Scotland, by letters patent, dated April 20th, 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's 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 dying breath, he declared he considered as his only wife in the sight of God. The duchess, in May, 1688, took to her second husband Charles, Lord Comwallis. She died Feb. 6, 1731-32, in the 81st year of her age, and was buried at Dalkeith in Scotland. Our author is not more 2 B 356 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. offered very ^-propos : her person was full of charms, and her mind possessed all those perfections in "which the hand- some Monmouth was deficient. New festivals and entertainments celebrated this marriage. 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 magni- ficence, 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 endeavoured to eclipse her at this fete, 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 commencement 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 Eichmond 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 Mon- mouths's nuptials, Killegrew,* having nothing better to do, correct atout figures than he avows himself to be in the arrange- ment of facts and dates : the duchess's fortune was much greater than he has stated it to have been. * Thomas Killegrew was one of the sons of Sir Robert Killegrew, chamberlain to the queen, and was bom at Hauworth, 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 honour to King Charles I., and faithfully adhered to MEiMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 357 fell in love -witli Lady Shrewsbury ; and, as Lady Shrews Dury, by a very extraordinary chance, had no engagement 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. his cause until the death of his master ; after which he attended his son in hia 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 honour to Queen Henrietta. In 1651 he was sent to Venice, as resident at that state, although, says Lord Clarendon, "the king was much dissuaded from it, but afterwards his majesty was prevailed upon, only to gratify him, that in that capacity he might borrow money of English mer- chants for his own subsistence; which he did, and nothing to the honour of his master; but was at last compelled to leave the republic for his vicious behaviour ; of which the Venetian ambassador complained to the king, when he came afterwards to Paris." On his return from Venice, Sir John Denham wrote a copy of verses, printed in his works, bantering the foibles of his friend KUlegrew ; who, from his account, was as little sensible to the miseries of exile as his royal master. His attachment to the interests of Charles II. continued unabated, and at the restora- tion he was appointed groom of the bed-chamber, and became so great a favourite with his majesty, that he was admitted into his company on terms of the most unrestrained familiarity, when audience was refused to the first ministers, and even on the most important occasions. It does not appear that he availed himself of his interest with the king, either to amass a fortune, or to advance himself in the state : We do not find that he obtained any other preferment than the post of master of the revels, which he held with that of groom of the bed-chamber. Oldys says he was king's jester jsA the same time ; but although he might, and certainly did, entertain his majesty in that capacity, it can scarce be imagined to have been in consequence of any appointment of that kind. He died at Whitehall, 39th March, 1682, bewailed, as it is said, by hia friends, and truly wept for by the poor. 3S8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. He possessed a great deal of wit, and still more eloq^uence, which most particularly displayed itself when he was a little elevated with the juice of the grape : he then indulged him- self 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 any thiug so exquisite as the extravagant praises of Killegrew would infer. As this indis- creet lover was a frequent guest at the Duke of Buckingham's table, he was continually employing his rhetoric on this sub- ject, 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 continually deafened with descriptions of Lady Shrewsbury's merits, resolved at last to examine into the truth of the matter him- self. As soon as he had made the experiment, he was satis- fied ; and, though he fancied that fame did not exceed the truth, yet this intrigue began in such a manner, that it waa generally believed its duration would be short, considering the fickleness of both paities, and the vivafcity with which they had engaged in it : nevertheless, no amour in England ever continued so long. The imprudent Killegrew, who could not be satisfied with- out rivals, was obliged, in the end, to be satisfied without a mistress. This he bore very impatiently; but so far was Lady Shrewsbury from hearkening to, or affording any re- dress for the grievances at first complained of, that she pre- tended even not to know him. His spint could not brook such treatment ; and. without ever considering that he was MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 359 the autlior of his owq disgrace, he let loose all his abusive eloquence against her ladyship: he attacked her with the most hitter 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 sensible 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 useless ; 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 prosecution founded upon appearances and conjectures, the parties concerned would take the shortest and most effectual means to put a stop to all inquiries upon the subject, and that their second attempt would not prove ineffectual. Being desirous, there- fore, of deserving mercy from those who had endeavoured to assassinate him, he no longer continued his satires, and said not a word of the adventure. The Duke of Buckingham and Lady Shrewsbury remained for a long period both happy and contented.* Never before had her constancy been of so • In a letter from Andrew Marvel, dated August 9, 1671, he says, " Buckingham runs out all with the Lady Shrewsbury, whom he believes he had a son (by,) to whom the king stood godfather : It died young 36o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. long a duration ; nor had he ever been so submissive and re- spectful a lover. This continued until Lord Shrewsbury, who never before had shown the least uneasiness at his lady's misconduct, thought proper to resent this : it was public enough, indeed, but less dishonourable to her than any of her former in- trigues. Poor Lord Shrewsbury, too polite a man to make any reproaches to his wife, was resolved to have redress for liis injured honour : he accordingly challenged the Duke of Buckingham ; and the Duke of Buckingham, as a reparation for his honour, having killed him upon the spot, remained a peaceable possessor 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 over- come. 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 Buck- ingham* was a short fat body, like her majesty, who never Earl of Coventry, and was buried in the sepulchre of hia fathers." — Marvel's Works, vol. i., p. 406. The duel in which the Earl of Shrews- bury was killed by the Duke of Buckingham happened 16th March, 1667. * "Mary, Duchess of Buckingham, was the only daughter of Thomas, Lord 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 in the vault of the family of ViUiers, in Henry VII.'s chapel, anno 1705, setat 66." — Brian Fair/oafs Life of the Luhe of Buckingham, 4to, 1758, p. 39. She was married at Nun Appleton, September 6, 1657. In the Memoirs of the English Court, by Madame Dunois, p. 11, it is MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 361 had had any children, and whom her husband had abandoned for another ; this sort of parallel in their situations interested the queen in her favour ; but it was all in vain : no person paid any attention to them; the licentiousness of the age went on uncontrolled, though the queen endeavoured to raise up the serious part of the nation, the politicians and devotees, as enemies against it. The fate of this princess was in many cases truly melan- choly : 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 that the king her hus- band was now totally indifferent about legitimate children, since his all-charming mistresses bore him others. As all said, " the Duchess of Backiugham has merit and virtue ; she is brown and lean, hut had she been the most beautiful and charming of her sex, the being his wife would have been sufBcient alone to have inspired him with a dislike. Notwithstanding she knew he was always intriguing, yet she never spoke of it, and had complaisance enough to entertain his mistresses, and even to lodge them in her house ; all which she suffered because she loved him." In some manuscript notes in Oldys' copy of Langbaine, by a gentleman stiU living, we are told that the old Lady Viscountess de Longueville, grandmother to the Earl of Sussex, who died in 1763, aged near 100, used to tell many little anecdotes of Charles IL's queen, whom she described as a little ungraceful woman, so short legged, that when she stood upon her feet, you would have thought she was on her knees, and yet so long waisted, that when she sat down she appeared a well-sized woman. She also described the Duchess of Buckingham, to whom she was related, as much such another in persoii as the queen; a little round crumpled woman, very fond of finery. She remembered paying her a visit when she (the duchess) was in mourning, at which time she found her lying on a sofa, with a kind of loose robe over her, all edged or laced with gold. This circumstance gives credit to Fairfax's observation above, that if she had any of the vauitieE^ she had certainly none of the vices of the court. 362 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. the happiness of her life depended upon that blessing, and as she flattered herself that the king would prove kinder to her if Heaven would vouchsafe to grant her desires, she had re- course to aU 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 concubines, from whose finger Turpin had taken it after her death ! But it is now many years since the only talismans 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, con- cluded 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 proving efiectual, 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 imeasiness on her account : the common 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 ; * I believe that Bath, not Bristol, is the place intended by the author. Queen Katharine's visit to the former place was earlier than to Tun- bridge, being about the latter end of September, 1663. See Wood Deteription of Bath, vol. L p. 217. I do not find she ever was at Bristol, but at the time mentioned in the following exti-act ; MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 363 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 hand- some than ever, was appointed for this excursion, and began to malfe magnificent preparations. The poor queen durst say- nothing against it; but aU hopes of success immediately for- sook 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 stiU 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 conversation 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, iii such a manner as one may imagine : and his own concerns took up so much space in his letters, that there was very little rooni 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 " 1663. Sir John Knight, mayor. John Broadway, Eichaid Stre- mer, sheriffs. " The 5th of September, the king and queen, with James, Duke of York, and his Duchess, and Prince Eupert, &c., 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, &c., of Bristol, p. 692. 2 s 364 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. that might dissipate liig impatience, until the happy moment of return arrived. He had a great esteem for the elder of the HamUtons ; no less esteem, and far more friendship for his brother, whom he made the confidant of his passion and attachment for his sister. The' Chevalier was also acquainted with his first engagements with his cousin Wetenhall ; hut being ignoi-ant of the coldness that had interrupted a commerce so brisk in its commence- ment, he was sui'prised at the eagerness he showed upon all occasions to please Riiss Stewart : his assiduity appeared to the Chevalier de Grammont to exceed those civilities and at- tentions that are usually paid for the purpose of making court to the favourites of princes. He observed him more strictly, and 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 confirmed him in his suspicions, he resolved to use his endeavours to prevent the consequences of an engagement pernicious in every respect : but he waited for a proper opportunity of speaking to him upon the subject. In the mean time, the com-t 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 mechamcs and servants only, is quite the contrary in England, where it is the exercise of gentlemen, 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 biUiard-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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 365 English games and diversions, liad been engaged in a horse- race, in which he was indeed tinsuccessful ; but 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 arbopr, 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 endeavour to trick one another out of the winnings of the day. These rooks are, properly speakiag, what we call capons or piqueurs, in France ; men who always carry money about tiiem, 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 assure