THE J. PAUL GETTY MUSEUM LIBRARY Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2015 https://archive.org/details/memoirsofcountgrOOhami_0 MEMOIRS COUNT QRAMMONT Five Hundred Copies o?iIy of this Edition de Luxe liave been printed for sale, each of wliich will be Jimnbered and signed. // Mbmoirs OF Count Grammont BY COUNT ANTHONY HAMILTON TRANSLATED WITH NOTES BY HORACE WALPOLE WITH ADDITIONAL NOTES AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES BY SIR WALTER SCOTT AND MRS. ANNA JAMESON With Portraits (if Hie " Windsor lieaiitics," ami Other llhistralious PHILADELPHIA GEBBIE & CO., Publishers 1888 441 1686 Copyrighted, iS88, by Gebbiic &. Co. PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. The editions of " Grammont's Memoirs" published since their first appearance in France in 17 13 have not been numerous, not more than half a dozen new editions having been printed, although the work has always been ranked as a standard of the first class. The justly acquired popularity of this graphic picture of " The Times of Charles II." has kept steadily on the increase, which fact has now induced the publishers to submit for public patronage an edition embellished with all the distinguished excellencies of all editions hitherto published — notes, introductions and illustrations. In the matter of illustrations the work is peculiarly adapted for interesting embellishment, because of the great niun- ber of historical personages named ; and therefore, selecting their best from Kneller, I^ely, Scriven, Mrs. Jameson, and other sources, we have presented the reader with a Gallery of the " Grammont Memoirs " characters, such as has never before been published. We have added twenty-six modern illustrations by Delort, recently published in Paris, and, give in all about forty authen- tic portraits on steel and wood, together with the inter- esting illustrations of costume and character, by Delort, (V) vi publishers' preface. referred to above. The celebrated "Windsor Beauties" we have had photogravured expressly for this work. We think it might be pleasing, to the curious in matters of illustration, to give a quotation from Horace Wal- pole's Anecdotes of Painting: "The 'Beauties of Wind- sor ' are the Court of Paphos, and ought to be en- graved for the memoirs of its charming biographer, Count Hamilton." Strange! that more than a hundred years should have been allowed to elapse before Wal- pole's sensible suggestion has been put into effect, as we have now done. Hamilton's Memoirs of Count de Grammont end so abruptly that we have, in order to finish the stor>-, laid Mrs. Jameson's " Beauties of the Court of Charles the Second" under contribution for three biographies, in the shape of an appendix, which, with the three portraits, Lawson, Bellasys and Portsmouth, bring the reigns of Charles II. and James II. to a close, and the story to a satisfactory conclusion. Gebbie & Co. CONTENTS. PAGE Biographical Sketch of Anthony Hamilton . . . i Epistle to the Count de Grammont . . , . . i6 CHAPTER L Grammont and his servant are introduced 31 CHAPTER 11. Arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont at the siege of Triiio, and his general life .......... 35 CHAPTER HI. Experience and adventures of the Chevalier de Grammont before his arrival at the siege of Trino ....... 42 CHAPTER IV. His arrival at the Court of Turin and descrii^tion of how he passed his time ........... 59 CHAPTER V. His return to the Court of France. His adventures at the siege of Arras. His response to Cardinal Mazarin and his exile from the Court of France 86 CHAPTER VL His arrival at the Court of England. Character of the personages composing the Court 109 CHAPTER VII. He falls in love with Miss Hamilton, describes various adventures at a ball to the Queen, and the curious journey of his valet to Paris 141 (vii3 viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. The burlesque story of liis Chaplain Poussatin. Description of the siege of Lerida. Marriage of the Duke of York with Miss Hj de and other particulars of the Court of England . -175 CHAPTER IX. Various intrigues and love affairs of the Court of England . . 212 CHAPTER X. other intrigues and love affairs of the Court of England . . 269 CHAPTER XI. Return of the Chevalier de Gratnniont to the Court of France, his reminiscences of the English Court, and various intrigues and love affairs of some of the personages mentioned in his memoirs, and of the Court generally 323 APPENDIX. Mrs. Lawson — Mistress of Charles II 369 Susan Armine (Lady Bellasys) — Mistress of the Duke of York . 372 Louise de Qudroualle (Duchess of Portsmouth) — Mistress of the Duke of York 380 LIST OF THE WINDSOR BEAUTIES SERIES. Painted by Sir Peter Lely and others, copied from 3frs. ylnne Jame- son's "Beauties of the Court of Charles //. " Charles II. (from the paintinff by Sir Godfrey Kneller.) Frontispiece. James II. {from the painting by Sir Godfrey Kneller) . . 369 Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, Lady Castlemaine ... 96 Queen Katherine of Braganza, Queeu of Charles II. . . -113 Enielia, Countess of Ossory 118 Miss Hamilton, Countess of Gramniout 141 Mrs. Middleton, Maid of Honor 144 Anne, Countess of Southesk . 192 Elizabeth, Lady Denham 208 Elizabeth, Countess of Chesterfield 224 Frances Stewart, Duchess of Richmond 240 Elizabeth Bagot, Countess of Falmouth 253 Miss Jennings, Maid of Honor 288 Nell Gwyn, Mistress of Charles II. 352 IMrs. Lawson, Mistress of Charles II 370 Susan Armine, Lady Bellasj's, Mistress of Duke of York . . 376 Louise de Queroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth .... 384 (ix) LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. Photogravured by the Gebbie & Husson Photogravure Co. from Designs by C- Delort. Grammont's Departure from his Ancestral Home . . page 45 Arrival at the Siege of Triiio " 36 Grammout Meets a " Couiitr\ niau " First Day Out . . " 49 At the Court of Turin " . " 60 The Queen Embraces Grammont before the Court of France " 102 Lady Shrewsbury and Jermyn at Spring Garden . . " 138 The Ball 155 Miss Stewart's Display of Legs " 202 Miss Hobart and Miss Temple Cooling Off ..." 260 Miss Jennings, Miss Price, and Hrounker — an Adventure " 295 The King finds Richmond in Miss Stewart's Bed-chamber " 358 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN TEXT Cavalier of the Period .... {C. Delorl) Title page. Count Anthony Hamilton {£. Scriven) i Confab at the Inn (C. Delort) 15 Count de Gramniont {E. Scriven) 16 St. Evremond {E. Scriven) 30 Grammont and his Servant Arrive at the Inn — First Night from Home . . . . (C Delort) 31 Louis XIV {E. Scriven) 34 Grammont's Arrival at the Siege of Trino . (C Delort) 35 Marshal de Turenne {E. Scriven) 41 Grammont Consults with his Maitre d' Hotel . {C. Delort) 42 The Prince de Conde [E. Scriven) 58 The Chevalier de Grammont at Arras . . {C- Delort) 59 Anne of Austria, Mother of Louis XIV. . . {E. Scriven) 85 Grammont Meets the Duke d'Arscot, the Baron de Limbec, Louvigny and others before Arras iC. Delort) 86 Mrs. Hyde, Sister-in-law to the Duchess of York (£". Scrii'en) loS The Duel between Jermyn and Howard . . {C. Delort) 109 Jacob Hall [E. Scrii'en) 140 On the Bank of the Thames .... (C Delort) 141 The Queen Dowager Marie Henrietta, Widow of Charles I. (E. Scriven) 174 The Dance of Chaplain Poussatin before the Ladies of the French Court . . . (C- Delort) 1 75 Lady Robarts {E. Scriven) 211 The Duke of York and Lady Chesterfield . . [C. Delort) 212 Miss Temple, Maid of Honor .... [E. Scriven) 255 Mary Kirk (Miss Warmestre), Maid of Honor . (E. Scriven) 268 (xi) xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN TKXT. Miss Jennings and Miss Price, Maids of Honor, disguised as orange-girls, encounter Kille- grevv {C. Delort) 269 Miss Price, Maid of Honor {E. Scriven) 293 Mrs. Hughes, Actress, Mistress of Prince Rupert (/i. Scrii'Cii) 307 The Countess of Shrewshurj' .... (A". Scriven) 322 Return of the Chevalier de Graninionl to the Court of France {C Dclort) 323 The Duchess of Buckingham .... (/i. Scriven) 339 Mrs. Davis, Actress, Mistress of Charles II. . (/:. Scrii'e/i) 355 Lucj- Barlow (otherwise Waters), First Mistress of Charles 11., Mother of the Duke of Mon- mouth {/T. Scriven) 367 St. James Park, 16S0 .... {from an old print) 369 The Earl of Chesterfield [E. Scriven) 371 Cleveland House, Residence of the Duchess of Cleveland, 1680 [from an old print) 372 The Earl of Rochester {E. Scriven) 379 St. James Palace, 1690 .... {from an old print) 380 Ann Hyde, Duchess of York .... {E. Scriven) 402 PORTRAIT OF COUNT ANTHONY HAMII,TON. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF ANTHONY HAMILTON. Of Anthony Hamilton, the celebrated aiithor of the Grammont* Memoirs, much cannot now be with cer- tainty known. The accounts prefixed 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 preceding ones was published in Paris, to which a sketch of his life was also added ; * For uniformity's sake the writer of this sketch has followed the Memoirs iu the spelling of this name ; but he thinks it necessary to observe that it should be Gramout, not Grammont. (1) 2 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF but it contains rather just criticisms on his works, than any very novel or satisfactory anecdote concerning liini- self. It is not pretended here to gratify literary curiosity as fully as it ought to be, with regard to this singular and very ingenious man ; some effort, however, ma)- be made to communicate a few more particulars relative to him, than the pnljlic has hitherto, perhaps, been ac- quainted with. Anthony Hamilton was of the noble family of that name : Sir George Hamilton, his father, was a younger son of James, Earl of Abercorn, a native of Scotland. His mother was daughter of Lord Tluirles, and sister to James, the first Duke of Ormond ; his family and connections therefore, on the maternal side, were en- tirely Irish. He was, as well as his brothers and sisters, born in Ireland, it is generally said, about the year 1646 ; but there is some reason to imagine that it was three or four years earlier. The place of his birth, according to the best family accounts, was Roscrea, in the county of Tipperary, the usual residence of his father when not engaged by military or public business.* It has been alwaj-s said that the family migrated to France when Anthony was an infant ; but this is not the fact : " vSir George Hamilton," says Carte, "would have accom- panied his brother-in-law, the Marquis of Ormond, to France, in December, 1650 : but, as he was receiver- general in Ireland, he stayed to pass his accounts, which he did to the satisfaction of all parties, notwith- * In September, 1646, Owen O'Neale look Roscrea, and, as Carte says, "put man, -woman, and child to the sword, except .SVr George Hamilto7V 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 apjiears from an interesting and affecting letter of her brother, the Duke of Ormond, dated Carrick, Augu.st 251I1. He. hail lost his noble son. Lord Ossory, not three weeks before. ANTHONY HAMILTON. 3 standing much clamor had been raised against him." When that business was settled, he, in the spring of 1651, took Lady Hamilton and all his family to France, and resided with Lord and Lad)- Ormond, near Caen, in Normandy,* in great poverty and distress, till the Marchioness of Ormond, a lady whose mind was as ex- alted as her birth, went over to England, and, after much solicitation, obtained two thousand pounds a year from her own and her husband's different estates in Ireland. This favor was granted her by Cromwell, who always professed the greatest respect for her. The ]\Lirchioness resided in Ireland, with the younger part of her family, from 1655 till after the Restoration ; while the Marquis of Ormond continued for a considerable part of that period with his two sisters. Lady Clancarty and Lady Hamilton, at the Feuillatines, in the Faubourg St. Jacques, in Paris. It appears from a letter of the Marquis to Sir Robert Southwell, that, although he himself was educated in the Protestant religion, not only his father and mother, but all his brothers and sisters, were bred, and always continued, Roman Catholics. Sir George Hamilton also, according to Carte, f was a Roman Catholic; An- thou}', therefore, was bred in the religion of liis family, and conscientiously adhered to it through life. He en- tered early into the army of Loiiis XIV., as did his brothers George, Richard, and John, the former of whom introduced the company of English gens d'armes into France in 1667, according to Le Pere Daniel, author of the History of the French Army, who adds the follow- ing short account of its establishment : Charles II., being * Hence possibly Voltaire's mistake in stating that Hamilton was born at Caen, in bis Ca/aloffue dcs Ecrivains dit Steele de Louis XIV. t That historian states that the king (Charles I.) deprived several papists of their military commissions, and, among others, Sir George Hamilton, who, notwithstanding, ser\-ed him with loyalty and un- varying fidelity. 4 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF restored to his throne, brought over to England several Catholic officers and soldiers who had served abroad with him and his brother, the Duke of York, and incorporated them with his guards ; but the parliament having ob- liged him to dismiss all officers who were Catholics, the king permitted George Hamilton to take such as were willing to accompany him to France, where Louis XIV. formed them into a company of gens d' amies, and being highly pleased with them, became himself their captain, and made George Hamilton their captain- lieutenant.* Whether Anthony belonged to this corps I know not ; but this is certain, that he distinguished himself particularly in his profession, and was advanced to considerable posts in the French service, f Anthony Hamilton's residence was now almost con- stantly in France. Some years previous to this he had been much in England, and, towards the close of Charles H.'s reign, in Ireland, where so many of his connections remained.! When James II. succeeded to the throne, the door being then opened to the Roman Catholics, he entered into the Irish army, where we find him, in 1686, a lieutenant-colonel in Sir Thomas New- comen's regiment. That he did not immediately hold a higher rank there, may perhaps be attributed to the recent accession of the king, his general absence from Ireland, the advanced age of his uncle, the Duke of Ormond, and, more than all, perhaps, to his Grace's early disapprobation of James's conduct in Ireland, which dis- played itself more fully afterwards, especially in the ecclesiastical promotions. *They were composed of English, Scotch, and Irish. t It is not to be forgotten that, at this time, John Churchill, after- wards Duke of Marlborough, ser^'ed under Marshal Turenne, in the same army. X Hamilton had three sisters : the Countess of Grammont ; another married to Matthew Forde, Esq., of the county of Wexford ; and another to Sir Donogh O'Brien, ancestor to the present Sir Edward O'Brien — a branch of the Thomoud family. ANTHONY HAMII.TON. 5 Henry, Earl of Clarendon, son to the lord-chancellor, was at that time lord-lieutenant of Ireland, and appears, notwithstanding: his g-eneral distrust and dislike of the Catholics, to have held Anthony Hamilton in much esti- mation : he speaks of his knowledge of, and constant attention to, the duties of his profession ; his probity, and the dependence that was to be placed on him, in preference to others of the same religious persuasion, and, in October, 1686, wrote to the Earl of Sunderland respecting him as follows : I have only this one thing more to trouble }-our lordship with at present, concerning Colonel Anthony Hamilton, to get him a commission to command as colonel, though he is but lieutenant-colonel to Sir Thomas Newcomen, in regard of the commands he has had abroad: and I am told it is often done in France, which makes me hope it will not be counted an unreasonable request. I would likewise humbly rec- commend to make Colonel Anthony Hamilton a privy- councillor here." * Lord Clarendon's recommendations were ultimately successful : Hamilton was made a priv}-- councillor in Ireland, and had a pension of ^^200 a year on the Irish establishment ; and was appointed governor of Limerick, in the room of Sir William King, notwithstanding he had strongly opposed the new-mod- elling of the army by the furious Tyrconnel. In the brief accounts which have been given of his life it is said that he had a regiment of infantry ; but though this is very probable, there is no mention whatever of his com- manding a regiment in the lists published of King James's army, which are supposed to be very accurate : he is in- deed set down among the general officers. Lord Clar- endon, in one of his letters to the lord-treasurer, states : "That the news of the day was that Colonel Russell was to be lieutenant-colonel to the Duke of Ormond's regiment, and that Colonel Anthony Hamilton was to * Chapel-Izod, July 11, 1686. 6 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF have Russell's regiment, and that Mr. Luttrell was to be lieutenant-colonel to Sir Thomas Newcomen, in the place of Anthony Hamilton.* It is not known whether Anfliony was present at the battle of the Boyne, or of Aughrim : his brother John was killed at the latter ; and Richard, who was a lieu- tenant-general, led on the cavalry with uncommon gal- lantry and spirit at the Boyne : it is to be wished that his candor and integrity had equalled his courage ; but he acted with great duplicity ; and King William's contemptuous echoing back his word to him, when he declared something on his honor, is well known.! He is frequently mentioned by lyord Clarendon, but by no means with the same approbation as his brother. After the total overthrow of James's affairs in Ireland, the two brothers finally quitted these kingdoms, and retired to France. Richard lived much with the Cardinal de Bouillon, who was the great protector of the Irish in France, and kept (what must have been indeed highly consolatory to many an emigrant of condition) a magnif- icent table, which has been recorded in the most glowing and grateful terms, by that gay companion, and cele- brated lover of good cheer, Philippe de Coulanges, who occasionally mentions the "amiable Richard Hamil- ton":}: as one of the Cardinal's particular intimates. Anthony, who was regarded particularly as a man of letters and elegant talents, resided almost entirely at St. Germain : solitary walks in the forest of that place occupied his leisure hours in the morning ; and poetical pursuits, or agreeable society, engaged the evening: but much of his time seems to have rolled heavily along ; his sister, IVIadame de Grammont, living more at court, or in Paris, than always suited his inclinations or his conve- nience. His great resource at St. Germain was the * Dublin Castle, October 23, 1686. t This anecdote has been erroneously recorded of Anthony. X So Coulanges calls him. ANTHONY HAMILTON. 7 family of the Duke of Berwick (son of James II.) : that nobleman appears to have been amiable in private life, and his attachment to Hamilton was steady and sincere. The Duchess of Berwick was also his friend. It is nec- essary to mention this lady particularly, as well as her sisters : they were the daughters of Henry Bulkele}', 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 Richmond, so conspicuous in the Grammont Memoirs. The sisters of the Duchess of Berwick were Charlotte, married to Lord Clare,* Henrietta and Laura. They all occupy a considerable space in Hamilton's correspond- ence, and the last two are the ladies so often addressed as the Mademoiselles B. ; they are almost the constant subjects of Hamilton's verses ; and it is recorded that he was a particular admirer of Henrietta Bulkeley ; but their union would have been that of hunger and thirst, for both were very poor and very illustrious : their junc- tion would, of course, have militated against every rule of common prudence. To the influence of this lady, particularly, we are indebted for one or two of Hamilton's agreeable novels : she had taste enough to laugh at the extravagant stories then so much in fashion, "plus arabes qu'en Arabic," t 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 Facardiiis^ and, more especially, La Flcur cf Epinc. Some of the introductory verses to these pro- ductions are written with peculiar ease and grace ; and are highly extolled, and even imitated, by Voltaire. La Harpe praises the Flciir Epinc^ as the work of an orig- * (O'Brien) ancestor to Marshal Thoniond. Lord Clare was killed at the battle of RamilHes. t They were wretched imitations of some of the Persian and Arabian tales, in which everything was distorted, and rendered absurd and pre- posterous. 8 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF inal 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 novel called Lc Bclier^ which he wrote on the following occasion : Louis XIV. had presented to the Countess of Graniniont (whom he highly esteemed) a remarkably ele- gant small country house in the park of W'rsailles : this house became so fashionable a resort, and brought such constant visitors,* that the Count de Grammont said, in his usual way, he would present the king with a list of all the persons he was obliged to entertain there, as more suited to his Majesty's purse than his own : the Countess wished to change the name of the i)lace from the vulgar appellation of Le Moiilincaii into that of Pcnlalic: and Hamilton, in his novel, wrote a history of a giant, an enchantment, and a princess, to commemorate her reso- lution. It has however happened that the giant Moiili- neaii has had the advantage in the course of time ; for the estate, which is situated near Meudon, upon the Seine, retains^its original and popular designation. About the year 1704, Hamilton turned his attention to collecting the memoirs of his brother-in-law, the Count de Grammont, as we may conjecture, from an epistle be- ginning " Honneur des rives eloignees" f being written towards the close of the above year : it is dated, or sup- posed to be so, from the banks of the Garonne. Among other aiithors whom Hamilton at first proposes to Gram- mont as capable of writing his life (though, on reflection, he thinks them not suited to it) is Boileau, whose genius * " Le bel air de la cour est d'aller a la jolie niaison, que le roi a don- n^e a la Couilesse dc Craiitont dans le Pare de Versailles. C'est tellement la mode, que c'est une hoiite de n'y avoir pas ete. La Conitesse de Grainont se porte tres-bien : il est certain que le roi la traite a merveille. Paris, le 5 Aout, 1703." — Leltre de Madame de Coiilangcs a Madame de Grignan. t A translation of this epistle, which is a complete sketch of the Oranimout IMenioirs, is subjoined to this Hiographical Sketch of the Autlior. ANTHONY HAMILTON. 9 he professes to admire ; but adds that his muse has some- what of malignity ; and that such a nmse might caress with one hand and satirize him with the other. This let- ter 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 nat- urall)-, seemed anxious to efface any impression which such a representation of his satiric vein might make on the Count's mind, and accordingly added a few compli- mentary verses to him : this letter is dated Paris, 8th Feb- ruary, 1705. About the same time, another letter was written to Hamilton on the subject of the Epistle to Grammont, by La Chapelle, who also seemed desirous that his life should be given to the public, but was much perplexed which of the most celebrated ancients to com- pare the Count to. INIectenas first presented himself to his imagination : absurdly enough, in my opinion ; for there was not a trace of similitude between the two char- acters. This, however, afforded him some opportunity, as he thought, of discovering a resemblance between Horace and Hamilton, in which he equally failed. Pe- tronius is then brought forward as affording some com- parison to the Count ; a man of pleasure, giving up the day to sleep and the night to entertainment ; but then, adds La Chapelle, it will be suggested that, such is the perpetual activity of the Count of Grammont's mind, he may be said to sleep neither night nor day ; and if Pe- tronius died, the Count seems determined never to die at all. (He was at this time about eighty-five years of age.) It may well be si:pposed that all this, though now per- fectly vapid and uninteresting, was extremely flattering to Grammont ; and the result was that he very much wished to have his life, or part of it, at least, given to the public. Hamilton, who had been so long connected with him, and with wdiose agreeable talents he was now so familiarized, was, on every account, singled out b\' him as the person who could best introduce him histori- 10 BIOGRAPHICAI, SKFITCH OF cally to the public. It is ridiculous to ineution Gram- mont as the author of his owu Meuioirs : his excellence, as a man of wit, was entirely limited to conversation. Bu.ssy Rabutin, 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, indepen- dent of everything else, what man would so outrage all decorum as to call himself the admiration of the age? for so is Grammont extolled in the Memoirs, with a variety of other encomiastic expressions ; although, per- haps, such vanity has not been without example. Ham- ilton, it is true, says that he acts as Grammont's secre- tary, and only holds the pen, whilst the Count dictates to him such particulars of his life as were the most singular and least known. This is said with great modesty, and, as to part of the work, perhaps with great truth : it requires, however, some explanation. Gram- mont was more than twenty years older than Hamilton ; consequently, the earlier part of his life could only have been known, or was best known, to the latter from re- peated conversations, and the long intimacy which sub- sisted between them. Whether Grammont formally dictated the events of his younger days, or not, is of little consequence : from his general character, it is prob- able that he did not. However, the whole account of such adventures as he was engaged in, from his leaving home to his interview with Cardinal Mazarin (excepting the character of INIonsieur de Senantes, and i\Iatta, who was well known to Hamilton), the relation of the siege of Lerida, the description of Gregorio Brice, and the inimitable discovery of his own magnificent suit of clothes on the ridiculous bridegroom at Abbeville ; all such particulars must have been again and again re- peated to Hamilton by Grammont, and may therefore ANTHONY HAMILTON. 11 be fairly grounded on the Count's authority. The char- acters of the court of Charles XL, and its history, are to be ascribed to Hamilton : from his residence, at va- rious times, in the court of London, his connection with the Ormond family, not to mention others, he must have been well acquainted with them. Lady Chesterfield, who may be regarded almost as the heroine of the work, was his cousin-german. * But, although the history altogether was written by Hamilton, it may not perhaps be known to ever\- reader that Grammont himself sold the manuscript for fifteen hundred livres ; and when it was brought to Fontenelle, then censor of the press, he refused to license it, from respect to the character of the Count, which, he thought, was represented as that of a gambler, and an unprincipled one, too. In fact, Gram- mont, like many an old gentleman, seems to have recol- lected the gaieties of his youth with more complaisance than was necessary, and has drawn them in pretty strong colors in that part of the work which is more particularly his own. He laughed at poor Fontenelle's scruples, and complained to the chancellor, who forced the censor to acquiesce : the license was granted, and the Count put the whole of the money, or the best part of it, in his pocket, though he acknowledged the work to be Hamilton's. This is exactly correspondent to his general character : when money was his object, he had little, or rather no delicacy. The History of Grammont may be considered as unique : there is nothing like it in any language. For drollery, knowledge of the world, various satire, gen- eral utility, united with great vivacity of composition, Gil Bias is unrivalled : but, as a merely agreeable book, the Memoirs of Grammont perhaps deserve that char- acter more than any which was ever written : it is pleas- * She was born at the castle of Kilkenny, July, 1640, as appears from Carte's life of her father, the Duke of Orinoud. 12 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF antry throughout, aud pleasantry of the best sort, un- forced, graceful, and engaging. Some French critic has justly observed, that, if any book were to be selected as afTording the truest specimen of perfect French gaiety, the Memoirs of Grammont would be selected in prefer- ence to all others. This has a Frenchman said of the work of a foreigner : but that foreigner possessed much genius, had lived from his youth, not only in the best society of France, but with the most singular and agree- able man that France could produce. Still, however, though Grammont and Hamilton were of dispositions very different, the latter must have possessed talents pe- culiarly brilliant, and admirably adapted to coincide with, and display those of his brother-in-law to the utmost advantage. Gibbon extols the "ease and purity of Hamilton's inimitable style ; " and in this he is sup- ported by Voltaire, although he adds the censure, that the Grammont IMemoirs 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 H. were, to the utmost, profligate and abandoned : yet in what colors have they been drawn by Hamilton ? The elegance of his pencil has rendered them more seductive and dangerous, than if he had more faithfully copied the originals. From such a mingled mass of gro.ssness of language, and of conduct, one would have turned away with disgust and abhorrence ; but Hamilton was, to use the words of his admirer, Lord Orford, "superior to the indelicacy of the court," whose vices he has so agreeably depicted ; and that superiority has sheltered such vices from more than half the oblivion which would now have forever concealed them. The Count de Grammont died in 1707. Some years after the publication of his ]\Ienioirs, Hamilton was en- gaged in a very different work : he translated Pope's Essay on Criticism into French, and, as it should seem, so much to that great poet's satisfaction, that he wrote a ANTHONY HAMILTON. 13 very polite letter of thanks to him, which is inserted in Pope's Correspondence. Hamilton's Essay was, I be- lieve, never printed, though Pope warmly requested to have that permission : the reign of 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 ac- quaintance few were left : the Duke of Berwick was em- ployed in the field, or at Versailles : some of the ladies, however, continued at St. Germain ; and in their society, particularly that of his niece, the Countess of Stafford (in whose name he carried on a lively correspondence with Lady Mary Wortley Montague), he passed much of his time. He occasionally indulged in poetical com- positions of a style suited to his age and character ; and when he was past seventy, he wrote that excellent copy of verses, Sur P Usage dc la I Ic dans la I yeillcssc ; which, for grace of style, justness and purity of sentiment, does honor to his memory. Hamilton died at St. Germain, in April, 1720, aged about se\-ent} -four. His death was pious and resigned. From his poem, entitled Reflections * he appears, like some other authors, to have turned his mind, in old age, entirely to those objects of sacred regard, which, sooner or later, must engage the attention of every rational ■* Voltaire, upon slight evidence, had imputed to him, at an earlier period, sentiments of irreligion similar to his own : Aupres d'eux le vif Hamilton, Toujours arme d'un trait qui blesse, Medisait de I'humaine espece, Et meme d'un peu mieux, dit-on. But whether Voltaire had any better foundation for insinuating this charge than the libertine tone of Hamilton's earlier works, joined to his own wish to hold up a man of genius as a partisan of his own opinions, must remain doiibtful ; while it is certain that Hamilton, in his latter years, sincerely followed the Christian religion. 14 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF mind. To poetry he bids an eternal adieu, in language which breathes no diminution of genius, at the moment that he forever recedes from tlie poetical character. But he aspired to a better. The following lines are interest- ing, for they evidently allude to his own situation ; and may every one, who, from a well-directed, or mistaken, but pure and generous zeal, is, through the course of a long life, assailed by the temptations of poverty, find that consolation in an innocence of manners, which Hamilton so well invoked, and, it is to be hoped, not altogether in vain : " Fille (lu ciel, pure luiioceiice ! Asile contre tons nos maux, Vrai centre du parfait repos ! Heureux celui, clout la Constance, Vous conservant dans rabondance, Ne vous perd point, dans les travaux D'une longue et triste indigence ! " Whatever were Hamilton's errors, his general char- acter was respectable. He has been represented as grave, and even dull, in society ; the very reverse, in short, of what he appears in his Memoirs : but this is probably exaggerated. Unquestionably, he had not the unequalled vivacity of the Count de Grammont in conversation ; as Grammont was, on the other hand, inferior, in all re- spects, to Hamilton when the pen was in his hand ; the latter was, however, though reserved in a large society, particularly agreeable in a more select one. Some of his letters remain, in which he alludes to his want of that facility at impromptu which gave such brilliancy to the conversation of some of his brother wits and contempo- raries. But, while we admit the truth of this, let it be remembered, at the same time, that when he wrote this, he was by no means young ; that he criticised his own defects with severity ; that he was poor, and living in a court which itself subsisted on the alms of another. Amidst such circumstances, extemporary gaiety cannot ANTHONY HAMILTON. 15 always be found. I can suppose, that the Duchess of Maine, who laid claim to the character of a patroness of wit, and, like many who assert such claims, was very troublesome, very self-sufficient, and very exigeante^ might not always have found that general superiority, or even transient lustre, which she expected in Hamilton's society : yet, considering the great difference of their age and situation, this circumstance will not greatly impeach his talents for conversation. But the work of real genius must forever remain ; and of Hamilton's genius, the Granimont Memoirs will always continue a beauteous and graceful monument. To that monument may also be added, the candor, integrity, and unassuming virtues of the amiable author. rOKTKAIT Ol' Till-; Cor.NT III. i.KA.MMONT. EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAMMONT, BY ANTHONY HAMILTON, IN HIS OWN AND HIS BROTHER'S NAME.* Oh ! thou, the glory of the shore. Where Corisauda t saw the day, The blessed abode of Menodore ; Thou whom the fates have dooni'd to stray Far from that pleasant shore away, On which the sun, at parting, smiles, Ere, gliding o'er the Pyrenees, Spain's tawny visages he sees. And sinks behind the happy isles ; * It is dated from Grainmoiit's villa of Seiiieat, upon the banks of the Garonne, where it would seem I'hilil)crt and Anthony Hamilton were then residing. t Corisande and Mcnadaurc were both ancestresses of the Count de Gramniont, and celebrated for beauty. (16) EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 17 Thou, who of mighty moiiarchs' court So loug hast shone unerring star, Unniatch'd in earnest or in sport. In love, in frolic, and in war ! To you, sir, this invocation must needs be addressed ; for whom else could it suit ? But you may be puzzled even to guess who invokes you, since you have heard nothing of us for an age, and since so long an absence may have utterly banished us from your recollection. Yet we venture to flatter ourselves it may be otherwise. For who was e'er forgot by thee? Witness, at Lerida, Don Brice,* And Barcelona's lady nice. Donna Ragueza, fair and free ; Witness too Boniface at Breda, And Catalonia and Gasconne, From Bordeaux walls to far Bayonne, From Perpignan to Pueycreda, And we your friends of fair Garonne. Even in these distant and peaceful regions, we hear, by daily report, that you are more agreeable, more nne- qualled, and more marvellous than ever. Our country neighbors, great news-mongers, apprised by their corre- spondents of the lively sallies with which you surprise the court, often ask us if you are not the grandson of that famous Chevalier de Grammont, of whom such wonders are recorded in the History of the Civil Wars ? Indignant that your identity should be disputed in a country where your name is so well known, we had formed a plan of giving some faint sketch of your merits and history. * Don Brice is celebrated in the A/einoirs, but Donna Ragueza does not appear there. 2 18 EPISTLE TO THE But who were we, that we should attempt the task ? With taleuts naturally but indifferent, and now rusted by long interruption of all intercourse with the court, how were it possible for us to display taste and politeness, excelling all that is to be found elsewhere, and which yet must be attributes of those fit to make you 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 remarkable particulars of your life which our mem- ory could supply, in order to communicate those materials to the most skilful writers of the metropolis. But the choice embarrassed us. Sometimes we thought of addressing our Memoirs to the Academy, persuaded that as you had formerly sustained a logical thesis,* you must know enough of the art to qualify you for being received a member of that illustrious body, and praised from head to foot upon the day of admission. Some- times, again, we thought, that, as, to all appearance, no one will survive to pronounce your eulogium when you are no more, it oiight to be delivered in the way of anticipation by the reverend Father INIassillon or De La Rue. But we considered that the first of these expedi- ents did not suit your rank, and that, as to the second, it would be against all form to swathe you up while alive in the tropes of a funeral sermon. The celebrated I presume, when lie was cdiu atccl for the church. COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 19 Boilcau next occurred to us, and we believed at first lie was the very person we wanted ; but a moment's reflection satisfied us that he would not answer our pur- pose. Sovereign of wit, he sits alone. And joys him in his glory won ; Or if, in history to live, The first of monarchs' feats he give. Attentive Phcebus guides his hand, And Memory's daughters round him stand ; He might consign, and only he, Thy fame to immortality. Yet, vixen still, his muse would mix Her playful but malicious tricks. Which friendship scarce might smother. So gambols the ambiguous cat. Deals with one paw a velvet pat. And scratches you with t'other. The next expedient which occurred to us was, to have your portrait displayed at full length in that miscellany which lately gave iis such an excellent letter of the illus- trious chief of }'our 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 office opes its fruitful cell. In choice of authors nothing nice, To every work, of every price, However rhymed, however writ, Especially to folks of wit. When by rare chance on such they hit. 20 EPISTLE TO THE From thence each month, in gallant qiiire, Flit sonneteers in tuneful sallies, All tender heroes of their allies, By verse familiar who aspire To seize the honor' d name of poet. Some scream on mistuned pipes and whistles, Pastorals and amorous epistles ; Some, twining worthless wreath, bestow it On bards and warriors of their own, In camp and chronicle unknown. Here, never rare, though ever new, Riddle, in veil fantastic screening. Presents, in his mysterious mask, A useless, yet laborious task. To loungers who have nought to do. But puzzle out his senseless meaning. 'Tis here, too, that in transports old. New elegies are monthly moaning ; Here, too, the dead their lists unfold, Telling of heirs and widows groaning ; Telling what sums were left to glad them. And here in copper-plate they shine. Showing their features, rank, and 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 assist- ance two persons whom we have not the honor to know, but some of whose compositions have reached us. In order to propitiate them by some civilities, one of us (he who wears at his ear that pearl, which, you used to say, his mother had hung there out of devotion) began to invoke them, as you shall hear. COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 21 O ! thou of whom the easy strain Enchanted by its happy sway, Sometimes the margin of the Seine, Sometimes the fair and fertile plain, Where winds the Maine her lingering way ; Whether the light and classic lay Lie at the feet of fair Climene ; Or if, La Fare, thou rather choose The mood of the theatric muse. And raise again, the stage to tread. Renowned Greeks and Romans dead ; Attend ! — And thou, too, lend thine aid, Chaulieu ! on whom, in raptur'd hour, Phoebus breath' d energy and power ; Come both, and each a stanza place. The structure that we raise to grace ; To gild our heavy labors o'er. Your aid and influence we implore. The invocation was scarce fairly written out, when we found the theatric muse a little misplaced, as neither of the gentlemen invoked appeared to have written any- thing falling under her department. This reflection embarrassed us ; and we were meditating what turn should be given to the passage, when behold ! there ap- peared at once, in the midst of the room, a form that surprised without alarming us : — it was that of your philosopher, the inimitable St. Evremond. * None of the tumult which usually announces the arrival of ghosts of consequence preceded this apparition. * With whom, as appears from the Memoirs, the Count, while resid- ing in London, maintained the closest intimacy. St. Evremond was delighted with his wit, vivacity, and latitude of principle : He called him his hero ; wrote verses in his praise ; in short, took as warm an interest in him as an Epicurean philosopher can do in any one but him- self. 22 EPISTLE TO THE The sky was clear and still o'erhead, No earthquake shook the regions under, No subterraneous murmur dread, And not a single clap of thunder. He was not clothed in rags, or tatter' d, Like that same grim and grisly spectre, Who, ere Philippi's contest clatter'd, The dauntless Brutus came to hector : Nor was he clad like ghost of L,aius, Who, when against his son he pled. Nor worse nor better wardrobe had, Than scanty mantle of Emaeus : Nor did his limbs a shroud encumber. 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 frighteu us. He was dressed exactly as when we had first the pleasure of his acquaintance in London. He had the same air of mirth, sharpened and chastened by satirical expression, and even the same dress, which undoubtedly he had preserved for this visit. Lest you doubt it — His ancient studying-cap he wore. Well tann'd, of good Morocco hide ; * The eternal double loop before. That lasted till its master died : In fine, the self-same equipage. As when, with lovely Mazarin, * One of St. Evremond's peculiarities was, that, instead of a wig, the universal dress of the time, he chose to wear his own gray hair, covered with the leathern cap described in the text. COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 23 Still boasting of the name of Sage, He drowned, in floods of generous wine, The diilness and the frost of age. And daily paid the homage due. To charms that seeni'd forever new. As he arrived unannounced, he placed himself be- tween us without ceremony, but could not forbear smiling at the respect with which we withdrew our chairs, under pretence of not crowding him. I had al- ways heard that it was necessary to question folks of the other world, in order to engage them in conversation ; but he soon showed us the contrary ; for, casting his eyes on the paper which we had left on the table, — " I ap- prove," said he, " of your plan, and I come to give you some advice for the execution ; but I cannot comprehend the choice yoi; 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 goiit}-, one soft swain Rebels, amid his rhymes profane, Against ^ecific water-gruel ; Or chirrups, in his ill-tim'd lay. The joys of freedom and tokay. When Celimena's false or cruel : The other, in his lovely strain. Fresh from the font of Hippocrene, Rich in the charms of sound and sense, Throws all his eloquence awa}-. And vaunts, the live-long lingering day, The languid bliss of indolence. "Give up thoughts of them, if you please ; for though 24 EPISTLE TO THE yoli have invoked them, they won't come the sooner to your succor : arrange, as well as you can, the materials you had collected for others, and never mind the order of time or events : I would advise you, on the contrary, to choose the latter years of your hero for your principal subject : his earlier adventures are too remote to be al- together so interesting in the present day. Make some short and light observation on the resolution he has formed of never dying, and upon the power he seems to possess of carrying it into execution. * That art by which his life he has warded. And death so often has retarded, 'Tis strange to me, The world's envy Has ne'er with jaundiced eye regarded : But, mid all anecdotes he tells Of warriors, statesmen, and of belles, With whom he fought, intrigued, and slept. That rare and precious mystery, His art of immortality. Is the sole secret he has kept. " Do not embarrass yoiir brains in seeking ornaments, or turns of eloquence, to paint his c^iaracter : that would resemble strained panegyric ; and a faithful portrait will be his best praise. Take care how you attempt to re- port his stories, or bo7is mots : The subject is too great for you.f Try only, in relating his adventures, to color over his failings, and give relief to his merits. * The Count de Grammont, in his old age, recovered, contrary to the expectation of his physicians, and of all the world, from one or two dangerous illnesses, which led him often to say, in his lively manner, that he had formed a resolution never to die. This declaration is the subject of much raillery through the whole epistle. t Bussi-Rabutin assures us, that much of the merit of Grammont's COUNT DE GRAM MONT. 25 'Twas thus, b}- eas}- route of yore. My hero to the skies I bore.* For your part, sketch how beauties teuder, Did to his vows iu crowds surrender : Show him forth-following the banners Of one who match 'd the goddess-born : Show how in peace his active manners Held dull repose in hate and scorn : Show how at court he made a figure, Taught lessons to the best intriguer. Till, without fawning, like his neighbors, His prompt address foil'd all their labors. bons inots consisted in his peculiar mode of delivering them, although his reputation as a wit was universally established. Few of those which have been preserved are susceptible of translation ; but the following may be taken as a specimen : One day when Charles II. dined in state, he made Grammont remark, that he was served upon the knee ; a mark of respect not common at other courts. "I thank your majesty for the explanation," answered Grammont; " I thought they were begging pardon for giving you so bad a dinner." Louis XIV., playing at tric-trac, disputed a throw with his opponent. The bj'standers were appealed to, and could not decide the cause. It was referred to Grammont, who, from the farther end of the gallery, declared against the king. " But you have not heard the case," said Louis. "Ah, sire," replied the Count, " if j-our majesty had but a shadow of right, would these gentlemen have failed to decide in your favor? " * St. Evremond, whose attachment to (jrammont 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 Evreniond's eternal theme ; He who shared Conde's every danger, Ma3^ 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 ! — Who ever lived his equal there ? His wit to scandal never stooping ; His mirth ne'er to buffoon'ry drooping : 26 EPISTLE TO THE Canvas and colors change once more, And paint him forth in varions light : The sconrge of coxcomb and of bore ; Live record of lampoons in score, And chronicle of love and fight ; Redonbted 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 ; Author of many a repartee : Remember, over all, that he Was most renown 'd for storming breaches. Forget not the white charger's prance, On which a daring boast sustaining, He came before a prince of France, Victorious in Alsace campaigning.* Tell, too, by what enchanting art. Or of the head, or of the heart. If skill or courage gaiu'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.! Keeping his character's marked plan, As spouse, sire, gallant, and old man. But went he to confession duly ? At matins, mass, and vespers steady ? Fervent in prayer ? — to tell you truly, He left these cares to my good lady. We may once more see a Turenne ; Conde himself may have a double ; But to make Grammont o'er again. Would cost dame Nature too nuich trouble. * Grammont had promised to the Dauphin, then commanding the army in Alsace, that he would join him before the end of the campaign nunmted on a white horse. t Grammont is supposed to have had no small share in determining COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 27 SpeaK all these feats, and simply speak — To soar too high were forward freak — To keep Parnassus' skirts discreetest ; For ' tis not on the very peak, That middling voices sound the sweetest. Each tale in easy language dress. With natural expression closing ; Let every rhyme fall in express ; Avoid poetical excess. And shun low miserable prosing : Doat not on modish style, I pray, Nor yet condemn it, with rude passion ; There is a place near the IVIarais, Where mimicry of antique lay Seems to be creeping into fashion. This new and much admired way, Of using Gothic words and spelling, Costs hut the price of Rabelais, Or Ronsard's sonnets, to excel in. With half a dozen ekes and ayes, Or some such antiquated phrase. At small expense you'll lightly hit On this new strain of ancient wit. We asstired the spirit ^ve would try to profit b}- this last advice, but that his caution against falling into the languor of a prosing narration appeared to us more diffi- cult to follow. "Once for all," said he, "do your best ; folks that write for the Count de Grammont have a right to reckon on some indiilgence. At any rate, you are only known through him, and, apparent!}', what the Duke of Ruckinghain, then Charles the Second's favorite minister, to break the triple alliance ; for which purpose 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. 28 EPISTLE TO THE 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 interest myself in his behalf." Still may his wit's unceasing charms Blaze forth, his numerous days adorning ; May he renounce the din of arms, And sleep some longer of a morning : Still be it upon false alarms, That chaplains come to lecture o'er him • * Still prematurely, as before, That all the doctors give him o'er, And king and court are weeping for liim. Ma}' such repeated feats convince The king he lives but to attend him ; And may he, like a grateful prince. Avail him of the hint they lend him : Live long as Granunont's age, and longer, Then learn his art still to grow younger. Here ceased the ghostl)- Norman sage, A clerk whom we as well as } ou rate The choicest spirit of his age. And heretofore your only curate : Though not a wight, you see, his spectre Doth, like a buried parson's, lecture. Then off he glideth to the band Of fcal friends that hope to greet you, But long may on the margin stand. Of sable Styx, before they meet you. * I)c Oraniniont having fallen seriously ill, at the age of seventy-five, 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, Dangeau will cheat you of my conversion." COUNT DE GRAMMONT. 29 No need upon that theme to dwell, Since none but you the cause can tell ; Yet, if, when some half century more, In health and glee, has glided o'er, You find you, maugre all your strength, Stretch'd out in woeful state at length. And forced to Erebus to troop. There shall you find the joyous group, Carousing on the St}'gian border ; Waiting, with hollo and with whoop. To dub you brother of their order : There shall you find Dan Benserade, Doughty Chapelle and Sarazine, Voiture and Chaplain, gallants fine. And he who ballad never made, Nor rhymed without a flask of wine. Adieu, sir Count, the world around Who roam'd in quest of love and battle. Of whose high merits fame did tattle, As sturdy filter, knight renown' d. Before the warfare of the Fronde, Should you again review Gironde, Travelling in coach, by journeys slow. You'll right hand mark a sweet chateau. Which has few ornaments to show. But deep, clear streams, that moat the spot, 'Tis there we dwell — forget us not ! Think of us then, pray, sir, if, by chance, you should take a fancy to revisit your fair mansion of Semeat. In the meanwhile, permit us to finish this long letter ; we have endeavored in vain to make something of it, by varying our language and style — you see how our best efforts fall below our subject. To succeed, it would be necessary that he whom our fictions conjured up to our assistance were actually among the living. But, alas ! EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAMMONT. No more shall Evremond incite us, That chronicler whom none surpasses, Whether his grave or gay delight us ; That favorite of divine Parnassus Can find no ford in dark Cocytus : From that sad river's fatal bourne. Alone De Grammont can return. ST. EVRKMOND. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. CHAPTER I. As those who read only for amusement are, in my opinion, more worthy of attention than those who open a book merely to find fanlt, to the former I address my- self, and for their entertainment commit the following pages to press, withont being in the least concerned about the severe criticisms of the latter. I further declare, that the order of time and disposition of the facts, which give more trouble to the writer than pleas- ure to the reader, shall not much embarrass me in these Memoirs. It being my design to convey a just idea of my hero, those circumstances which most tend to illus- trate and distinguish his character shall find a place in these fragments just as they present themselves to my imagination, without paying any particular attention to their arrangement. For, after all, what does it signify (:;]) 32 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. where the portrait is begun, provided the assemblage of the parts fonns a whole which perfectly expresses the original ? The celebrated Plutarch, who treats his heroes as he does his readers, commences the life of the one just as he thinks fit, and diverts the attention of the other with digressions into antiquity, or agreeable pas- sages of literature, which frequently have no reference to the subject ; for instance, he tells us that Demetrius Poliorcetes was far from being so tall as his father, Antigonus ; and afterwards, that his reputed father, Antigonus, was only his uncle ; but this is not until he has begun his life with a short account of his death, his various exploits, his good and bad qualities ; and at last, out of compassion to his failings, brings forward a com- parison between him and the inifortunate Mark Antony, In the Life of Numa Pompilius, he begins by a disser- tation upon his preceptor Pythagoras ; and, as if he thought the reader would be anxious to know whether it was the ancient philosopher, or one of the s^me name, who, after being victorious at the Olympic games, went full speed into Italy to teach Numa philosophy, and in- struct him in the arts of government, he gives himself much trouble to explain this difficulty, and, after all, leaves it undetermined. What I have said upon this subject is not meant to reflect upon this historian, to whom, of all the ancients, we are most obliged ; it is only intended to aiithorize the manner in which I have treated a life far more ex- traordinary than any of those he has transmitted to us. It is my part to describe a man whose inimitable character casts a veil over those faults which I shall neither palli- ate nor disguise ; a man distinguished by a mixture of virtues and vices so closely linked together as in appear- ance to form a necessary dependence, glowing with the greatest beauty when united, shining with the brightest lustre when opposed. It is this indefinable brilliancy, which, in war, in love, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 33 in gaming, and in the various stages of a long life, has rendered the Count de Grammont the admiration of his age, and the delight of every conn cry wherein he has displayed his engaging wit, dispensed his generosity and magnificence, or practised his inconstancy : it is owing to this that the sallies of a sprightly imagination have produced those admirable bons-mots which have been with universal applause transmitted to posterity. It is owing to this that he preserv-ed his judgment free and unembarrassed in the most trying situations, and enjoyed an uncommon presence of mind and facetiousness of tem- per in the most imminent dangers of war. I shall not attempt to draw his portrait : his person has been described by Bussi and St. Evremond,* authors more en- tertaining than faithful. The former has represented the Chevalier Grammont as artful, fickle, and even somewhat treacherous in his amours, and indefatigable and cruel in his jealousies. St. Evremond has used other colors to * Voltaire, in the age of Louis XIV., ch. 24, speaking of that mon- arch, says, "even at the same time when he began to encourage genius by his liberality, the Count de Bussi was severely punished for the use he made of hia ; he was sent to the Rastile in 1664. The Amours of the Gauls was the pretence of his imprisonment ; but the true cause was the song in which the king was treated with too much freedom, and which, upon this occasion, was brought to remembrance to ruin Bussi, the reputed author of it. Que Deodatus est heureux, De baiser ce bee amoureux, Qui d'une oreille a I'autre va ! See Deodatus with his billing 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 langiiage with purity : he had some merit, but more conceit : and he made no use of the merit he had, but to make himself enemies." Voltaire adds, " Bussi was released at the end of eighteen mor.ths ; but he was in disgrace all the rest of his life, in vain protesting a regard for Louis XIV." Bussi died 1693. Of St. Evremond, see note, postea. 3 34 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. express the genius and describe the general manners of the Count ; whilst both, in their different pictures, have done greater honor to themselves than justice to their hero. It is, therefore, to the Count we must listen, in the agreeable relation of the sieges and battles wherein he distinguished himself under another hero ; and it is on him we must rely for the truth of passages the least glorious of his life, and for the sincerity with which he relates his address, vivacity, frauds, and the various stratagems he practised either in love or gaming. These express his true character, and to himself we owe these memoirs, since I only hold the pen, while he directs it to the most remarkable and secret passages of his life. I.Ol'IS XIV. CHAPTER II. In those days affairs were not managed in France as at present. Louis XIII. * then sat upon the throne, but the Cardinal de Richelieu f governed the kingdom ; great men commanded little armies, and little armies did great things : the fortune of great men depended solely upon ministerial favor, and blind devotion to the * Sou and successor of Henry IV. He began to reign 14th May, 1610, and died 14th May, 1643. t Of this great minister Mr. Hume gives the following character : "This man had no sooner, by suppleness and intrigue, got possession of the reins of government, than he formed at once three mighty pro- jects : to subdue the turbulent spirits of the great ; to reduce the rebel- lious Huguenots, and to curb the encroaching power of the house of Austria. Undaunted and implacable, prudent and active, he braved all the opposition of the French princes and nobles in the prosecution of his vengeance ; he discovered and dissipated all their secret cabals and conspiracies. His sovereign himself he held in subjection, while he exalted the throne. The people, while they lost their liberties, ac- quired, by means of his administration, learning, order, discipline and renown. That confused and inaccurate genius of government, of which France partook in common with other European kingdoms, he changed into a simple monarchy, at the verj- time when the incapacity of Buck- (35) 36 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. will of the minister was the only snre method of ad- vancement. Vast designs were then laying in the heart of neighboring states the foundation of that formidable greatness to which France has now risen : the police was somewhat neglected ; the highways were impassable by day, and the streets by night ; and robberies were com- mitted elsewhere with great impunity. Young men, on their first entrance into the world, took what conrse they thought proper. Whoever would, was a chevalier, and whoever could, an abbe : I mean a beneficed abbe : dress made no distinction between them ; and I believe the Chevalier Grammont was both the one and the other at the siege of Trino. * This was his first campaign, and here he displayed those attractive graces which so favorably prepossess, and require neither friends nor recommendations in any company to procure a favorable reception. The siege was already formed when he arrived, which saved him some needless risks ; for a volunteer cannot rest at ease until he has stood the first fire : he went therefore to re- connoitre the generals, having no occasion to reconnoitre the place. Prince Thomas f commanded the army ; and as the post of lieutenant-general was not then known, Du Plessis Pralin X and the famous Viscount Turenne § ingham encouraged the free spirit of the commons to establish in Eng- land a regular system of liberty." {History of England, vol. iv., p. 232.) Cardinal Richelieu died 1642. * Trino was taken 4th Ma}-, 1639. t Of Savoy, uncle of the reigning duke. He died 1656. X Afterwards Marechal and Duke de Choiseul. He retired from the army in 1672. Monsieur Henault, in his History of France, under that year, says : " Le Marechal du Ple.ssis ne fit pas cette campagne a cause de son grand age ; il dit au roi, qu'il portoit envie a ses enfans, qui avoient I'honneur de servir sa majeste, que pour lui il souhaitoit la mort, puisqu'il u'etoit plus bon a rien : le roi I'embrassa, et lui dit: M. le jMaredial, on ne travaillc que pour approc/ier de la reputation que vous avez acquise : il est agreahle de se reposcr apr^s tants de vic- toires.' " § This great general was killed Julj- 27, 1675, hy a cannon-shot, near MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 37 were his majors general. Fortified places were treated with some respect, before a power which nothing can withstand had found means to destroy them by dreadful showers of bombs, and by destructive batteries of hun- dreds of pieces of cannon. Before these furious storms which drive governors under ground and reduce their garrisons to powder, repeated sallies bravely repulsed, and vigorous attacks nobly sustained, signalized both the art of the besiegers and the courage of the besieged ; consequently, sieges were of some length, and young men had an opportunity of gaining some knowledge. Many brave actions were performed on each side during the siege of Trino ; a great deal of fatigue was endured, and considerable losses sustained ; but fatigue was no the village of Salzbach, in going to choose a place whereon to erect a battery. "No one," says Voltaire, "is ignorant of the circumstances of his death ; but we cannot here refrain from a review of the principal of them, for the same reason that they are still talked of every day. It seems as if one could not too often repeat, that the same bullet which killed him, having shot off the arm of St. Hilaire, lieutenant-general of the artillery, his son came and bewailed his misfortune with many tears ; but the fatlier, looking towards Turenne, said : ' It is not I, but that great man, who should be lamented.' These words may be com- pared with the most heroic sayings recorded in all histor}-, and are the best eulogy that can be bestowed upon Turenne. It is uncommon, un- der a despotic government, where peojile are actuated only by their private interests, for those who have served their country to die re- gretted by the public. Nevertheless, Turenne was lamented both by the soldiers and people ; and Louvois was the only one who rejoiced at his death. The honors which the king ordered to be paid to his memory are known to every one ; and that he was interred at St. Denis, in the same manner as the Constable du Guesclin, above whom he was elevated by the voice of the public, as much as the age of Turenne was superior to the age of the constable." In former editions, the quotation from Voltaire was yet longer. It is more germane to the present matter to obser\-e, that it appears, from the Memoirs of St. Hilaire, where Voltaire found his anecdote, that Count Hamilton was present at the death of Turenne. Monsieur de Boze had twice sent to Turenne, to beg him to come to the place where the battery was to be erected, which Turenne, as if bj' presentiment, declined. Count Hamilton brought the third au.\ious retjuest from De 38 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. more considered, hardships were uo more felt in the trenches, gravity was at an end with the generals, and the troops were no longer dispirited after the arrival of the Chevalier Grammont. Pleasure was his pursuit, and he made it universal. Among the officers in the army, as in all other places, there are men of real merit, or pretenders to it. The latter endeavored to imitate the Chevalier Grammont in his most shining qualities, but without success ; the former admired his talents and courted his friendship. Of this number was Matta : * He was agreeable in his person, but still more by the natural turn of his wit ; he Boze ; and in riding to the place where he was, Tnrenne received his death-blow. The horse of Moutecuculi, the opposite general, was, in the course of the same day, killed by a cannon-shot. * Matta, or Hatha, of whom Hamilton has drawn so striking a pict- ure, is said to have been of the house of Bourdeille, which had the honor to produce Brantome and Montresor. The combination of in- dolence and talent, of wit and simplicity, of bluutness and irony, with which he is represented, may have been derived from tradition, but could only have been united into the inimitable whole by the pen of Hamilton. Several of his bous-inols have been preserved; but the spirit evaporates in translation. " Where could I get this nose ? " said Madame D'Albret, observing a slight tendency to a flush in that feat- ure. "At the sideboard, Madame," answered Matta. When the same lad}', 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." Madame Caylus, in her Souvenirs, commemorates the simple and nat- ural humor of Matta as rendering him the most delightful society in the world. Mademoiselle, in her Memoirs, alludes to his pleasantry in conversation, and turn for deep gaming. When the Memoirs of Gram- mont were subjected to the examination of Foutanelle, then censor of the Parisian press, he refused to license them, on account of the scan- dalous conduct imputed to Grammont in this party at quinze. The Count no sooner heard of this than he hastened to Foutanelle, and having joked him for being more tender of his reputation than he was himself, the license was instantly issued. The censor might have re- torted upon Grammont the answer which the Count made to a widow who received coldly his compliments of condolence on her husband's death : " Nay, Madame, if that is the way you take it, I care as little MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 39 was plain and simple in his manners, but endued with a quick discernment and refined delicacy, and full of candor and integrity in all his actions. The Chevalier Grammont was not long in discovering his amiable qualities ; an acquaintance was soon fomied, and was succeeded by the strictest intimacy. Matta insisted that the Chevalier should take up his quarters with him ; to which he only consented on con- dition of equally contributing to the expense. As they were both liberal and magnificent, at their common cost they gave the best designed and most luxurious enter- tainments that had ever } et been seen. Play was won- derfully productive at first, and the Chevalier restored by a hundred different ways that which he obtained only by one. The generals, being entertained by turns, admired their magnificence, and were dissatisfied with their own officers for not keeping such good tables and attendance. The Chevalier had the talent of setting off the most indifferent things to advantage ; and his wit was so gen- erally acknowledged, that it was a kind of disgrace not to submit to his taste. To him Matta resigned the care of furnishing the table and doing its honors ; and, charmed with the general applause, persuaded himself that nothing could be more honorable than their way of living, and nothing more easy than to continue it ; but he soon perceived that the greatest prosperity is not the most lasting. Good living, bad economy, dishonest ser- vants, and ill luck, all uniting together to disconcert their housekeeping, their table was going to be gradually laid aside, when the Chevalier's genius, fertile in re- sources, undertook to support his former credit by the following expedient. They had never yet conferred about the state of their about it as you do." He died in 1674. " Matta est mort sans confes- sion," sa3-s Madame Mainteuon, in a letter to her brother. Tome I., p. 67. 40 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. finances, althou<^h the steward had acquainted each, separately, that he must either receive money to continue the expenses, or give in his accounts. One day, when the Chevalier came home sooner than usual, he found Matta fast asleep in an easy chair, and, being unwilling to disturb his rest, he began musing on his project. Matta awoke without his perceiving it ; and having, for a short time, observed the deep contemplation he seemed involved in, and the profound silence between two per- sons who had never held their tongues for a moment when together before, he broke it by a sudden fit of laughter, which increased in proportion as the other stared at him. "A merry way of waking, and ludicrous enough," said the Chevalier, "what is the matter, and whom do you laugh at?" "Faith, Chevalier," said Matta, "I am laughing at a dream I had just now, which is so natural and diverting, that I must make you laugh at it also. I was dreaming that we had dismissed our maitre-d' hotel, our cook, and our confectioner, having resolved, for the remainder of the campaign, to live upon others as others have lived upon us : this was my dream. Now tell me. Chevalier, on what were you musing?" "Poor fellow!" said the Chevalier, shrugging up his shoulders, "you are knocked down at once, and thrown into the utmost consternation and despair at some silly stories which the maitre-d' hotel has been telling you as well as me. What ! after the figure we have made in the face of the nobilit}^ and foreigners in the army, shall we give it up, and like fools and beggars sneak off, upon the first failure of our money ! Have you no sentiments of honor? Where is the dignity of France ? " "And where is the money?" said Matta ; "for my men say, the devil may take them, if there be ten crowns in the house ; and I believe you have not much more, for it is above a week since I have seen you pull out your purse, or count your money, an amusement you were very fond of in prosper- ity." "I own all this," said the Chevalier, "but yet I MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 41 will force yoti to confess, that you are but a mean-spirited fellow upon this occasion. What would have become of you if you had been reduced to the situation I was in at Lyons, four days before I arrived here ? I will tell you the story. ' ' 1 CHAPTER III. "This," said Matta, "smells strongly of romance, except that it slionld have been your squire's part to tell your adventures." "True," said the Chevalier ; ' how- ever, I may acquaint you with niy 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 farther back. The most minute particulars of a life like yours are worthy of relation ; but, above all, the manner in which you first paid vour respects to Cardinal Richelieu : I have often laughed at it. However, ) ou may pass over the unlucky pranks of your infancy, your genealog)-, name and qual- itv of \ our ancestors, for that is a subject with which you must be utterly unacquainted." "Pooh!" said the Chevalier; "you think that all the world is as ignorant as yourself; — you think that I am a stranger to the Mendores and the Corisandes. So, per- haps I don't know that it was my father's own fault that he was not the son of Henry IV. The King would by (42) MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 43 all means have acknowledged him for his son, bnt the traitor would never consent to it. See what the Gram- nionts would have been now, but for this cross-grained fellow ! They would have had precedence of the Caesars de Vendome.* You may laugh, if you like, yet it is as true as the gospel: but let us come to the point. " I was sent to the college of Pau,t with the intention of being brought up to the church ; but as I had quite different views, I made no manner of improvement : gaming was so much in my head, that both my tutor and the master lost their labor in endeavoring to teach me lyatin. 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 towm 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 * Coesar, Duke de Vendome, was the eldest son of Henry IV., by the celebrated Gabrielle d'Estrees. He died in 1665. t Pau was the capital of the principality of Bearne, and lies on an eminence on the Gave Bearnois, being indeed small and well built, and formerly the seat of a parliament, a bailiwick, and a chamber of ac- counts. In the palace here was born Henry IV. Exclusive of an acad- emy of sciences and liberal arts, there was in it a college of Jesuits, with five convents and two hospitals. ^- 44 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT, character of an Abbe. You know what kind of dress was then the fashion. All that they conld obtain of me was to put a cassock over niy other clothes, and my brother, ready to die with laughing at my ecclesiastical habit, made others laugh too. I had the finest head of hair in the world, well curled and powdered, above m\- cassock and below were white buskins and gilt spurs. The Cardinal, who had a quick discernment, could not help laughing. This elevation of sentiment gave him umbrage ; and he foresaw what might be expected from a genius that already laughed at the sha\-en crown and cowl. "When my brother had taken me home, 'Well, my little parson,' said he, 'you have acted your part to ad- miration, and your parti-colored dress of the ecclesiastic and soldier has greatly diverted the court ; but this is not all : you mtist now choose, my little knight. Consider then, whether, by sticking to the church, } ou will pos- sess great revenues, and have nothing to do ; or, with a small portion, you will risk the loss of a leg or arm, and be the 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 re- gard to the conveniences of life ; but as a man ought to secure his future state in preference to all other consider- ations, I am resolved to renounce the church for the sal- vation of my soul, iipon 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 stich places, and, at the same time, I also learnt that which gives the finishing stroke to a young fellow's education, and makes him a gentleman, viz., all sorts of games, both at cards and dice ; but the truth is, MEMOIRS OF COUNT ORAMMONT. 45 I thought, at first, that I had more skill iv. them than I really had, as experience proved. When my mother knew the choice I had made, she was inconsolable ; for she reckoned, that had I been a clergyman I shonld have been a saint ; bnt now she was certain th at I should either be a devil in the world, or be killed in the wars. And indeed I burned with impatience to be a soldier ; but being )-et too young, I was forced to make a campaign at Bidache * before I made one in the army. When I re- turned to my mother's house, I had so much the air of a courtier and a man of the world, that she began to respect nie instead of chiding me for my infatuation towards the army. I became her favorite, and finding me inflexible, she only thought of keeping me with her as long as she could, while my little equipage was preparing. The faithful Brinon, who was to attend me as valet-de-cham- bre, was likewise to discharge the office of governor and equerry, being, perhaps, the only Gascon who was ever possessed of so much gravity and ill-temper. He passed his word for my good behavior and moralit}', and prom- ised my mother that he would give a good account of my person in the dangers of the war ; but I hope he will keep his word better as to this last article than he has done as to the former. "My equipage was sent away a week before me. This was so much time gained by my mother to give me good advice. At length, after having solemnly enjoined me to have the fear of God before my eyes, and to love my neighbor as myself, she suffered me to depart, inider the protection of the Lord and the sage Brinon. At the sec- ond stage we quarrelled. He had received four hun- dred louis d'or for the expenses of the campaign: I wished to have the keeping of them myself, which he strenuously opposed. 'Thou old scoiindrel,' said I, 'is the money thine, or was it given thee for me? You sup- * A principality belonging to the family of the Graninionts, in the proviuce of Gascony. 46 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. pose I must have a treasurer, and receive no money with- out his order. ' I know not whether it was from a present- iment of what afterwards happened that he grew melan- choly; however it was with the greatest rehictance and the most poignant anguish, that he found himself obliged to yield. One would have thought that I had wrested his very soul from hini. I found myself more light and merr>' after I had eased him of his trust ; he, on the con- trary, appeared so overwhelmed with grief, that it seemed as if I had laid four hundred pounds of lead upon his back, instead of taking away these four hundred louis. He went on so heavily, that I was forced to whip his horse myself, and turning to me, now and then, 'Ah ! sir,' said he, 'my lady did not think it would be so.' His reflections and sorrows were renewed at ever}- 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 carry us before the gover- nor. I took one of them to condiict me to the best inn, and delivered Brinon into the hands of the other, to ac- quaint the commandant with the particulars of my jour- ney, and my future intentions. "There are as good taverns at 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 poi- soner by profession, and a thief by custcm. He .showed me into a tolerably neat room, and desired to know whether I pleased to sup by myself or at the ordinary. I chose the latter, on account of the beau monde which the soldier had boasted of. "Brinon, who was quite out of temper at the many questions which the governor had asked him, returned more surl)- than an old ape ; and seeing that I was dress- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 47 iiig my hair, in order to go downstairs : ' What are you about now, sir ?' said he. 'Are you going to tramp aboiit the town ? No, no ; have we not had tramping enough ever since the morning? Eat a bit of supper, and go to bed betimes, that }-ou may get on horseback by day- break.' 'Mr. Comptroller,' said I, ' I shall neither tramp about the town, nor eat alone, nor go to bed early. I intend to sup with the company below.' 'At the ordi- nary !' cried he ; 'I beseech you, sir, do not think of it ! Devil take me, if there be not a dozen brawling fellows playing at cards and dice, who make noise enough to drown the loudest thunder ! ' " I was grown insolent since I had seized the money ; and being desirous to shake off the yoke of a governor, ' Do you know, Mr. Brinon,' .said I, ' that I don't like a blockhead to set up for a reasoner ? Do you go to sup- per, if you please ; but take care that I have post-horses ready before daybreak.' The moment he mentioned cards and dice, I felt the money 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, assured me that there were but eighteen or twenty of those gen- tlemen who would have the honor to sup with me. I approached one of the tables where they were playing, and thought I should have died with laughing : I ex- pected to have seen good company and deep play ; but I only met with two Germans playing at backgammon. Never did two coimtry loobies play like them ; but their figures beggared all description. The fellow near whom I stood was short, thick, and fat, and as round as a ball, with a ruflF, and prodigious high-crowned hat. Any one, at a moderate distance, would have taken him for the dome of a church, with the steeple on the top of it. I inquired of the host who he was. 'A merchant from Basle,' said he, 'who comes hither to sell horses; but from the method he jmrsues, I think he will not dispose 48 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. of many ; for he does nothing but play, ' ' Does he play deep ? ' said I. ' Not now, ' said he ; ' they are only play- ing for their reckoning, while supper is getting ready ; but he has no objection to play as deep as any one.' 'Has he money?' said I. 'As for that,' replied the treacherous Cerise, ' would to God you had won a thou- sand pistoles of him, and I went your halves ; we should not be long without our money. ' I wanted no further encouragement to meditate the ruin of the high-crowned hat. I went nearer to him, in order to take a closer sur- vey ; never was such a bungler ; he made blots upon blots ; God knows, I began to feel some remorse at win- ning of such an ignoramus, who knew so little of the game. He lost his reckoning ; supper was served up ; and I desired him to sit next me. It was a long table, and there were at least five-and-twenty in com])any, not- withstanding the landlord's promise. The most ex- ecrable repast that ever was begun being finished, all the crowd insensibly dispersed, except the little Swiss, who still kept near me, and the landlord, who placed him- self on the other side of me. They both smoked like dragoons ; and the Swiss was continually saying, in bad French, 'I ask your pardon, sir, for my great freedom,' at the same time blowing such whiffs of tol)acco in my face as almost suffocated mc. Mr. Cerise, on the other hand, desired he might take the liberty of asking me whether I had ever been in his countr\- ? and seemed surprised I had so genteel an air, without having travelled in Switzerland. "The little chub I had to encounter was full as in- quisitive as the other. He desired to know whether I came from the army in Piedmont ; and having told him I was going thither, he asked me, whether I had a mind to buy any horses ; that he had about two hundred to dispose of, and that he would sell them cheap. I began to be smoked like a gammon of bacon ; and being quite wearied out, both with their tobacco and tlieir questions, c of LOP r MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 49 I asked my companion if he would play for a single pis- tole at backgammon, while our men were supping ; it was not without great ceremony that he consented, at the same time asking my pardon for his great freedom. " I won the game ; I gave him his revenge, and won again. We then plaj ed double or quit ; I won that too, and all in the twinkling of an eye ; for he grew vexed, and suifered 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 l im to retire. I was forced to rise to give him that order in private. He began to reprimand me for disgracing myself by keeping company with such a low-bred wretch. It was in vain that I told him he was a great merchant, that he had a great deal of money, and that he played like a child. ' He a merchant ! ' cried Brinon. ' Do not believe that, sir ! May the devil take me, if he is not some conjurer.' ' Hold your tongue, old fool,' said I ; 'he is no more a conjurer than you are, and that is decisive ; and, to prove it to you, I am re- solved to win four or five hundred pistoles of him before I go to bed.' With these words I turned him out, strictly enjoining him not to return, or in any manner to disturb us. "The game being done, the little Swiss unbuttoned his pockets, to pull out a new four-pistole piece, and presenting it to me, he asked my pardon for his great freedom, and seemed as if he wished to retire. This was not what I wanted. I told him we only played for amusement ; that I had no design upon his money ; and that, if he pleased, I would play him a single game for his four pistoles. He raised some objections ; but con- sented at last, and won back his money. I was piqued at it. I played another game ; fortune changed sides ; the dice ran for him, he made no more blots. I lost the game ; another game, and double or quit ; we doubled 4 50 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, the stake, and plaj ed double or quit again. I was vexed ; he, like a true gamester, took every bet I offered, and won all before him, without my getting more than six points in eight or ten games. I asked him to play a single game for one hundred pistoles ; but as he saw I did not stake, he told me it was late ; that he must go and look after his horses ; and went away, still asking my pardon for his great freedom. The cool manner of his refusal, and the politeness with which he took his leave, provoked me to such a degree, that I could almost have killed him. I was so confounded at losing my money so fast, even to the last pistole, that I did not immediately consider the miserable situation to which I was reduced. " I durst not go up to my chamber for fear of Brinon. By good luck, however, he was tired with waiting for me, and had gone to bed. This was some consolation, though but of short continuance. As soon as I was laid down, all the fatal consequences of my adventure pre- sented themselves to my imagination. I could not sleep. I saw all the horrors of my misfortune, withotit being able to find any remedy ; in vain did I rack my brain ; it supplied me with no expedient. I feared nothing .so much as daybreak ; however, it did come, and the cruel Brinon along with it. He was booted up to the middle, and cracking a cursed whip, which he held in his hand, 'Up, Monsieur le Chevalier,' cried he, opening the cur- tains ; ' the hor-ses are at the door, and you are still asleep. We ought by this time to have ridden two stages ; give me money to pay the reckoning.' ' Brinon,' .said I, in a dejected tone, ' draw the curtains.' 'What!' cried he, ' draw the curtains ! Do you intend, then, to make your campaign at L^ ons ? you seem to have taken a lik- ing to the place. And for the great merchant, you have stripped him, I suppose? No, no. Monsieur le Chevalier, this money will never do you any good. This wretch has, perhaps, a family ; and it is his children's bread MEMOIRS OF COI'NT CRAMMONT. 51 that he has been playing with, and that you have won. Was this an object to sit up all night for? What would my lady say, if she knew what a life you lead?' ' Brinon,' said I, 'pray draw the curtains.' But instead of obeying me, one would have thought that the devil had prompted him to use the most pointed and galling terms to a person under such misfortunes. 'And how much have you won ? ' said he ; ' five hundred pistoles? what must the poor man do? Recollect, Monsieur le Chevalier, what I have said, this money will never thrive with you. It is, perhaps, but foiir hundred? three? two? well if it be but one hundred louis d'or, ' continued he, seeing that I shook my head at every sum which he had named, ' there is no great mischief done ; one hundred pistoles will not ruin him, provided }-ou have won them fairly.' 'Friend Brinon,' said I, fetching a deep sigh, ' draw the curtains ; I am unworthy to see daylight. ' Brinon was much affected at these melancholy words, but I thought he would have fainted, when I told him the whole adventure. He tore his hair, made grievous lamentations, the burden of which still was, ' What will my lady say ? ' And, after having exhausted his un- profitable complaints, ' What will become of you now, Monsieur le Chevalier?' said he, ' what do you intend to do?' ' Nothing,' said I, ' for I am fit for nothing.' After this, being somewhat eased after making him my confes- sion, I thought upon several projects, to none of which could I gain his approbation. I would have had him post after my equipage, to have sold some of my clothes. I was for proposing to the horse-dealer to buy some horses of him at a high price on credit, to sell again cheap. Brinon laughed at all the.se 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 ; m\' mother intended to have given me five hundred louis d'or, but she had kept back fifty, as well for some little repairs in the 52 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. abbey, as to pay for praying for ine. Brinoii had the charge of the other fifty, witli 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 niy first adven- ture. Play has hitherto favored mc ; for, since my arrival, I have had, at one time, after paying all my ex- penses, fifteen hundred louis d"or. Fortune is now again become unfavorable : we nnist mend her. Our cash runs low ; we must, therefore, endeavor to recruit." " Nothing is more easy," said INIatta ; "it is only to find out such another dupe as the horse-dealer at Lyons ; but now I think on it, has not the faithful Brinon some reserve for the last extremity? Faith, the time is now come, and we cannot do better than to make use of it." " Your raillery woiild be very seasonable," said this Chevalier, " if you knew how to extricate us out of the difficulty. You must certainly have an overflow of wit, to be throwing it away upon every occasion as at present. What the devil ! will you always be bantering, without considering what a serioiis situation we are reduced to. Mind what I say, I will go to-morrow to the head- quarters, I will dine with the Count de Canieran, and I will invite him to supper." "Where?" said I\Iatta. "Here," said the Chevalier. " You are mad, my poor friend," replied Matta. " This is some such project as you formed at L}'ons : 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 Coiuit de Cani- eran plays at quiiize, and so do I ; we want money ; he has more than he knows what to do with ; I will be- speak a splendid supper, he shall pay for it. Send your maitre-d' hotel to me, and trouble yourself no further, except in some precautions, which it is necessary to take MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 53 on such an occasion." " What are they? " said Matta. "I will tell you," said the Chevalier ; " for I find one must explain to you things that are as clear as noon- day." " You command the guards that are here, don't you? As soon as night comes on, yon shall order fifteen or twenty men, imder the command of your sergeant La Place, to be imder arms, and to lay themselves flat on the groinid, between this place and the head-quarters." "What the devil!" cried Matta, "an ambuscade? God forgive me, I believe you intend to rob the poor Savoyard. If that be your intention, I declare I will have nothing to say to it." "Poor devil !" said the Chevalier, "the matter is this ; it is very likely that we shall win his money. The Piedmontese, though other- wise good fellows, are apt to be suspicious and distrust- ful. He commands the horse ; you know )-ou 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 provoked at his loss, it is proper to be in such a situation as not to dread his resentment." "Embrace me, my dear Chevalier," said Matta, holding his sides and laughing; "embrace me, for thou art not to be matched. What a fool I was to think, when you talked to me of taking precautions, that nothing more was necessary than to prepare a table and cards, or perhaps to provide some false dice ! I should never have thought of supporting a man who plays at quinze by a detachment of foot : I must, indeed, confess that yon are already a great soldier." The next day everything happened as the Chevalier Grammont had planned it ; the unfortunate Cameran fell into the snare. They slipped in the most agreeable manner possible : Matta drank five or six bumpers to 54 MEMOIRS OF COrNT GRAMMONT. drown a few scruples which made him somewhat un- easy. The Chevalier de Gramniont shone as usual, and almost made his guest die with laughing, whom he was soon aftei 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, tliat he might not lose any of the precious time which he had devoted to quinze. Supper being done, the sergeant La Place posted his ambuscade, and the Chevalier de Gramniont engaged his man. The perfidy of Cerise, and the high-crowned hat, were still fresh in remembrance, and enabled him to get the better of a few grains of remorse, and conquer some scruples which arose in his mind. Matta, unwill- ing to be a spectator of violated hospitality, sat down in an easy chair, in order to fall asleep, while the Chev- alier was stripping the poor Count of his money. They only staked three or four pistoles at first, jiist for amusement ; but Cameran having lost three or four times, he staked high, and the game became serious. He still lost, and became outrageous ; the cards flew about the room, and the exclamations awoke ]Matta. As his head was heavy with sleep, and hot with wine, he began to laugh at the passion of the Piedmontese, instead of consoling him. " Faith, my poor Count," .said he, " if I were iu your place, I would play no more." " Why so ?" said the other. " I don't know," said he, " but my heart tells me that your ill-luck will continue." "I will try that," said Cameran, calling for fresh cards. "Do so," said Matta, and fell asleep again. It was but for a short time. All cards were equally unfortunate for the loser. He held none but tens or court-cards ; and if by chance he had quinze, he was sure to be the younger hand, and therefore lost it. Again he stormed. "Did not I tell you so?" said Matta, starting out of his sleep. "All your storming is iu vain ; as long as you play } ou w-ill lose. Believe MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 55 me, the shortest follies are the best. Leave off, for the devil take me if it is possible for you to win." "Why?" said Caineran, 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 pla^-s with siich ill-luck as the Count to be pestered with your insipid jests? For my part, I am so weary of the game that I woiild desist immediately, if he was not so great a loser." Nothing is more dreaded by a losing game- ster than such a threat ; and the Count, in a softened tone, told the Chevalier that Mr. Matta might say what he pleased, if he did not offend him ; that, as to him- self, it did not give him the smallest uneasiness. The Chevalier de Grammont gave the Count far bet- ter treatment than he himself had experienced from the Swiss at Lyons ; for he played upon credit as long as he pleased, which Cameran took so kindly, that he lost fif- teen hundred pistoles, and paid them the next morning. As for Matta, he was severely reprimanded for the in- temperance of his tongue. All the reason he gave for his conduct was, that he made it a point of conscience not to suffer the poor Savoyard to be cheated without informing him of it. " Besides," said he, " it would have given me pleasure to have seen my infantry en- gaged with his horse, if he had been inclined to mis- chief." This adventure having recruited their finances, for- tune favored them the remainder of the campaign, and the Chevalier de Grammont, to prove that he had only seized upon the Count's effects by way of reprisal, and to indemnify himself for the losses he had sustained at Lyons, began from this time to make the same use of his money, that he has been known to do since upon all 56 MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. occasions. He found out tlie distressed in order to re- lieve them ; officers who had lost their equipa'^e in the war, or their money at play ; soldiers who were disabled in the trenches ; in short every one felt the influence of his benevolence : but his manner of conferring a favor exceeded even the favor itself Every man possessed of such amiable qualities must meet with success in all his undertakings. The soldiers knew his person and adored him. The generals were sure to meet him in every scene of action, and sought his company at other times. As soon as fortune declared for him, his first care was to make restitution, by desir- ing Cameran to go his halves in all parties where the odds were in his favor. An inexhaustible fund of vivacity and good humor gave a certain air of novelty to whatever he either said or did. I know not on what occasion it was that Mon- sieur de Turenue, towards the end of the siege, com- manded a separate body. The Chevalier de Grammont went to visit him in his new quarters, where he found fifteen or twenty officers. M. de Turenue was naturally fond of merriment, and the Chevalier's presence was sure to inspire it. He was much pleased with this visit, and by wa}- of acknowledgment, would have engaged him to play. The Chevalier de Grammont, in returning him thanks, said, that he had learned from his tutor, that when a man went to see his friends, it was neither prudent to leave his own money behind him, nor civil to carry off theirs. "Truly," said Monsictir de Turenne, "you will find neither deep play nor nu:ch money among us ; but, that it may not be said that we suffered you to depart without playing, let us stake every one a horse. ' ' The Chevalier de Grammont agreed. Fortune, who had followed him to a place where he did not think he should have any need of her, made him win fifteen or sixteen horses, by way of joke ; but seeing some counte- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 57 nances disconcerted at the loss, "Gentlemen," said he, " I shonld be sorry to see )-on return on foot from your general's quarters ; it will be enough for me if yon send me your horses to-morrow, except one, wliich I give for the cards." The valet-de-chambre thought he was bantering. " I speak seriously," said the Chevalier, " I give yon a horse for the cards ; and, what is more, take whichever you please, except my own." "Truly," said Monsieur de Turenne, " I am vastly pleased with the novelty of the thing ; for I don't believe that a horse was ever before given for the cards. ' ' Trino surrendered at last. The Baron de Batteville,* who had defended it valiantly, and for a long time, ob- tained a capitulation worthy of such a resistance. I do * This officer appears to have been the same person who was after- wards ambassador from Spain to the court of Great Britain, where, in the summer of 1660, he offended the French court, by claiming prece- dence of their ambassador. Count d'Estrades, on the public entry of the Swedish ambassador into London. On this occasion the court of France compelled its rival of Spain to submit to the mortifying circumstance of acknowledging the French superiority. To commemorate this important victory, Louis XIV. caused a medal to be struck, representing the Span- ish ambassador, the Marquis de Fuente, making the declaration to that king, "No concurrer con los ambassadores des de Francia, " with this inscription, "Jus prtecedendi assertum," and under it, "Hispaniorum excusatio coram xxx legatis principum, 1662." A very curious account of the fray occasioned by this dispute, drawn up by Evelyn, is to be seen in that gentleman's article in the Riographia Britannica. Lord Clar- endon, speaking of Baron de Batte\-ille, saj's, he was born in Burgundy, in the .Spanish quarters, and bred a soldier, in which profession he was an officer of note, and at that time was governor of St. Sebastian, and of that province. He seemed a rough man, and to have more of the camp, but, in truth, knew the intrigues of a court better than most Spaniards ; and, except when his passion surprised him, was wary and cunning in his negotiation. He lived with less reservation and more jollity than the ministers of that crown used to do, and drew such of the court to his table and conversation as he observed to be loud talk- ers, and confident enough in the king's presence. — Continuation of Ctarcndou, p. 84. 58 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. not know whether the Chevalier de Oranmiont had any share in the capture of this place ; but I know very well, that during a more glorious reign, and with armies ever victorious, his intrepidity and address have been the cause of taking others since, even under the eye of his master, as we shall see in the sequel of these memoirs. PRIXCK UK eoNDi;. CHAPTER IV. ^Military glory is at most but one-half of the accom- plishments which distinguish heroes. Love must give the finishing stroke, and adorn their character by the difficulties they encounter, the temerity of their enter- prises, and finally, by the lustre of success. We have examples of this, not only in romances, but also in the genuine histories of the most famous warriors, and the most celebrated conquerors. The Chevalier de Grammont and Matta, who did not think much of these examples, were, however, of opin- ion, that it would be very agreeable to refresh themselves after the fatigues of the siege of Trino, by forming some other sieges, at the expense of the beauties and husbands of Turin. As the campaign had finished early, they thought they should have time to perform some exploits before the bad weather obliged them to repass the mountains. They sallied forth, therefore, not unlike Amadis de Gaul or Don Galaor after they had been dubbed knights, eager in their search after adventures in love, war, and enchantments. They were greatly superior to those two brothers, who only knew how to cleave in twain giants, (59) 60 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. to break lances, and to carry off fair damsels behind tlicni on horseback, without saying a single word to them ; whereas our heroes were adepts at cards and dice, of which the others were totally ignorant. They went to Turin, met with an agreeable reception, and were greatly distinguished at court. Could il be otherwise? They were )oung and handsome ; they had wit at command, and spent their money liberally. In what country will not a man succeed, possessing such advantages ? As Turin was at that time the seat of gal- lantry and of love, two strangers of this description, who were always cheerful, brisk, and lively, could not fail to please the ladies of the court. Though the men of Turin were extremely handsome, they were not, however, possessed of the art of pleasing. They treated their wives with respect, and were cour- teous to strangers. Their wives, still more handsome, were full as courteous to strangers, and less respectful to their husbands. Madame Royale,* a worthy daughter of Henry IV., rendered her little court the most agreeable in the world. She inherited such of her father's virtues as compose the proper ornament of her sex ; and with regard to what are termed the foibles of great souls, her highness had in no wise degenerated. The Count de Tanes was her prime minister. It was not difficiilt to conduct affairs of state during his admin- * Christina, second daughter of Henry IV. , married to Victor Ama- deus, Prince of Piedmont, aftenvards Duke of Savoy. She seems to have been well entitled to the character here given of her. Keysler, in his Travels, vol. i., p. 239, speaking of a fine ^^lla, called La Vigne de Madame Royale, near Turin, says, "During the minority under the regent Christina, both the house and garden were often the scenes of riot and debauchery. On this account, in the king's advanced age, when he was, as it were, inflamed with an external flame of religion, with which possibly the admonitions of his father-confessor might con- cur, this place became so odious to him, that, upon the death of Madame Royale, he bestowed it on the hospital." She died in 1663. I MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 61 istration. No complaints were alleged against him ; and the princess, satisfied with his conduct herself, was, above all, glad to have her choice approved by her whole court, where people lived nearly according to the man- ners and customs of ancient chivalry. The ladies had each a professed lover, for fashion's sake, besides volunteers, whose numbers were unlimited. The declared admirers wore their mistresses' liveries, their arms, and sometimes even took their names. . Their office was, never to quit them in public, and never to approach them in private ; to be their squires upon all occasions, and, in jousts and tournaments, to adorn their lances, their housings, and their coats, with the ciphers and the colors of their dulcineas. Alatta was far from being averse to gallantry ; btxt would have liked it more simple than as it was practised at Turin. The ordinary forms would not have disgusted him ; but he found here a sort of superstition in the ceremonies and worship of love, which he thought very inconsistent : however, as he had submitted his conduct in that matter to the direction of the Chevalier de Gram- mont, he was obliged to follow his example, and to con- form to the customs of the country. They enlisted themselves at the same time in the ser- vice of two beauties, whose former squires gave them up immediately from motives of politeness. The Chevalier de Grammont chose Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain, and told Matta to offer his services to Madame de Senantes. Matta consented, though he liked the other better ; but the Chevalier de Grammont persuaded him that Madame de Senantes was more suitable for him. As he had reaped advantage from the Chevalier's talents in the first projects they had formed, he resolved to follow his in- structions in love, as he had done his advice in play. Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain was in the bloom of youth ; her eyes were small, but very bright and spark- ling, and, like her hair, were black ; her complexion was 62 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. lively and clear, though not fair : she h:;d an agreeable mouth, two fine rows of teeth, a neck as handsome as one could wish, and a most delightful shape ; she had a particular elegance in her elbows, which, however, she did not show to advantage ; her hands were rather large and not very white ; her feet, thoiigh not of the smallest, were well shaped ; she trusted to Providence, and used no art to set off those graces which she had received from nature ; but, notwithstanding her negligence in the em- bellishment of her charms, there was something so lively in her person, that the Chevalier de Grammont was caught at first sight ; her wit and humor corresponded with her other qualities, being quite easy and perfectly charming ; she was all mirth, all life, all complaisance and politeness, and all was natural, and always the same without any variation. The Marchioness de Senantes * was esteemed fair, and she might have enjoyed, if she had pleased, the reputa- tion of having red hair, had she not rather chosen to conform to the taste of the age in which she lived than to follow that of the ancients : she had all the advan- tages of red hair without any of the inconveniences ; a constant attention to her person served as a corrective to the natural defects of her complexion. After all, what does it signify, whether cleanliness be owing to nature or to art? it argues an invidious temper to be very in- quisitive about it. She had a great deal of wit, a good memory, more reading, and a still greater inclination towards tenderness. She had a husband whom it would have been criminal even in chastity to spare. He piqiied himself upon being a Stoic, and gloried in being slovenly and disgusting in honor of his profession. In this he succeeded to admira- tion ; for he was very fat, so that he perspired almost as * Lord Orford saj's, the family of Senantes still remains in Piedmont, and bears the title of Marquis de Carailles. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 63 iiiiich in winter as in snnnner. Erudition and brutality seemed to be the most conspicuous features of his char- acter, and were displayed in his conversation, sometimes together, sometimes alternately, but always disagreeably ; he was not jealous, and yet he was troublesome ; he was very well pleased to see attentions paid to his wife, pro- vided more were paid to him. "As soon as our adventurers had declared themselves, the Chevalier de Grammont arrayed himself in green habiliments, and dressed Matta in blue, these being the favorite colors of their new mistresses. They entered immediately upon duty : the Chevalier learned and practised all the ceremonies of this species of gallantry, as if he always had been accustomed to them ; but Matta commonly forgot one-half, and was not over perfect in practising the other. He never could remember that his office was to promote the glory, and not the interest, of his mistress. The Duchess of Savo)' gave the very next day an en- tertainment at La Venerie,* where all the ladies were invited. The Chevalier was so agreeable and diverting, that he made his mistress almost die with laughing. Matta, in leading his lady to the coach, squeezed her hand, and at their return from the promenade he begged *This place is thus described by Keysler, Travels, vol. i., p. 235 — "The palace most frequented by the royal family is La Venerie, the court fjenerallj' continuing there from the spring to December. It is about a leagiie from Turin : the road that leads to it is well paved, and the greatest part of it planted with trees on each side : it is not always in a direct line, but runs a little winding between fine meadows, fields, and vineyards." After describing the palace as it then was, he adds — "The palace garden at present consists only of hedges and walks, whereas formerly it had fine water-works and grottos, besides the fountain of Hercules and the temple of Diana, of which a description may be seen in the Nouveau Theatre de Piedmont. But now nothing of these remains, being gone to ruin, partly by the ravages of the French, and partly by the king's order that they .should be demolished, to make room for something else ; but those vacuities have not yet, and probably will not very soon be filled up." 64 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. of her to pity his sufferings. This was proceeding rather too precipitately, and although Madame de Senantes was not destitute of the natural compassion of her sex, she nevertheless was shocked at the familiarity of this treatment ; she thought herself obliged to show some degree of resentment, and pulling away her hand, which he had pressed with still greater fervency upon this declaration, she went up to the royal apartments without even looking at her new lover. Matta, never thinking that he had offended her, suffered her to go, and went in search of some company to sup with hiui : nothing was more easy for a man of his disposition ; he soon found what he wanted, sat a long time at table to refresh him- self after the fatigues of love, and went to bed com- pletely satisfied that he had performed his part to perfec- tion. During all this time the Chevalier de Grammont acquitted himself towards Mademoiselle de Saint Ger- main with universal applause ; and withoiit remitting his assiduities, he found means to shine, as they went along, in the relation of a thousand entertaining anec- dotes, which he introduced in the general conversation. Her Royal Highness heard them with pleasure, and the solitary Senantes likewise attended to them. He per- ceived this, and quitted his mistress to inquire what she had done with Matta. " I ! " said she, " I have done nothing with him ; but I don't know what he would have done with me if I had been obliging enough to listen to his most humble solicitations." She then told him in what manner his friend had treated her the very second day of their acquaintance. The Chevalier could not forbear laughing at it ; he told her that Matta was rather too unceremonious, but yet she would like him better as their intimacy more improved, and for her consolation he assured her that he would have spoken in the same manner to her Royal MEMOIRS OF COUNT CIRAM.MONT. 65 Hij^hncss herself ; however, he would not fail to give him a severe reprimand. He went the next morning into his room for that purpose ; but Matta had gone out early in the morning on a shooting party, in which he had been engaged by his supper companions in the pre- ceding evening. At his return he took a brace of par- tridges and went to his mistress. Being asked whether he wished to see the Marquis, he said no ; and the Swiss telling him his lady was not at home, he left his par- tridges, and desired him to present them to his mistress from him. The Marchioness was at her toilet, and was decorating her head with all the grace she could devise to captivate Matta, at the moment he was denied admittance ; she knew nothing of the matter ; but her hi:sband knew every particular. He had taken it in dudgeon that the first visit was not paid to him, and, as he was resolved that it should not be paid to his wife, the Swiss had received his orders, and had almost been beaten for receiving the present which had been left. The partridges, however, were immediately sent back, and Matta, without examining into the cause, was glad to have them again. He went to court without ever changing his clothes, or in the least considering he ought not to appear there without his lady's colors. He found her becomingly dressed ; her eyes appeared to him more than iisually sparkling, and her whole person altogether divine. He began from that day to be much pleased with himself for his complaisance to the Cheva- lier de Grammont ; however, he could not help remark- ing that she looked but coldly iipon him. This appeared to him a very extraordinary return for his services, and, imagining that she was unmindful of her weighty obligations to him, he entered into conversation with her, and severely reprimanded her for having sent back his partridges with so much indifference. She did not understand what he meant ; and highly 66 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. offended that he did not ap<)h)gize, after the reprimand wliich she conchuled hiui to have received, told him that he certainly had met with ladies of very complying dispositions in his travels, as he seemed to give to himself airs that she was by no means accnstomed to endure. Matta desired to know wherein he conld be said to have given himself any. " Wherein ? " said .she : " the sec- ond day that yon honored me with your attentions, you treated me as if I had been your humble .servant for a thousand years ; the first time that I gave you my hand you squeezed it as violently as yoix were able. After this commencement of your coiirtship, I got into my coach, and you mounted your horse ; but instead of rid- ing by the side of the coach, as any reasonable gallant would have done, no sooner did a hare start from her form, than you immediately galloped full speed after her ; having regaled yourself, during the promenade, by taking snuff, without ever deigning to bestow a thought on me, the only proof you gave me, on j-our return, that you recollected me, was by soliciting me to surrender my reputation in terms polite enoiigh, but very explicit. And now you talk to me of having been shooting of par- tridges and of some visit or other, which, I suppose, you have been dreaming of, as well as of all the rest." The Chevalier de Grammont now advanced, to the interruption of this whimsical dialogue. Matta was re- buked for his forwardness, and his friend took abundant pains to convince him that his conduct bordered more upon insolence than familiarity. IMatta endeavored to exculpate himself, but succeeded ill. His mistress took compassion upon him, and consented to admit his excuses for the manner, rather than his repentance for the fact, and declared it was the intention alone which could either justify or condemn, in such ca.ses ; that it was very easy to pardon those transgressions which arise from excess of tenderness, but not such as proceeded from too great a presumption of success. Matta MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAJIMONT 67 swore that lie only squeezed her hand from the vio- lence of his passion, and that he had been driven, by necessity, to ask her to relieve it; that he was yet a novice in the arts of solicitation ; that he could not pos- sibly think her more worth)- of his affection, after a month's service, than at the jDresent moment ; and that he entreated her to cast away an occasional thought upon him when her leisure admitted. The Marchioness was not offended; she saw very well that she must require an implicit conformity to the established rule of decorum, when she had to deal with such a character ; and the Chevalier de Grammont, after this sort of reconciliation, went to look after his own affair with IMadenioiselle de St. Germain. His concern was not the offspring of mere good nature, nay, it was the reverse ; for no sooner did he perceive that the Marchioness looked with an eye of favor iipon him, than this conquest, appearing to him to be more easy than the other, he thought it was prudent to take advan- tage of it, for fear of losing the opportunity, and that he might not have spent all his time to no purpose, in case he should prove iin.successful with the little St. Germain. In the mean time, in order to maintain that authority which he had usurped over the conduct of his friend, he, that very evening, notwithstanding what had been already said, reprimanded him for presuming to appear at court in his moi-ning suit, and without his mistress's badge ; for not having had the wit or prudence to pay his first visit to the Marquis de Senantes, instead of con- suming his time, to no purpose, in inquiries for the lady; and to conclude, he asked him what the devil he meant by presenting her with a brace of miserable red par- tridges. "And why not?" said Matta: "ought they to have been blue, too, to match the cockade and sword- knots vou made me wear the other dav ? Plag^ue not mc with your nonsensical whimsies : my life on it, in one V 68 MK.MOIRS OF COUNT CKAMMONT. fortiiij;ht your equal in foppery and folly will not be found tlironj^hont the confines of Turin ; but to reply to \ our questions, I did not call upon Monsieur de Senantes, because I had nothing to do with him, and because he is of a species of animals which I dislike, and always shall dislike: as for you, you appear quite charmed with being decked out in green ribands, with writing letters to your mistress, and filling your pockets with citrons, pistachios, and such sort of stuff, with which you are always cram- ming the poor girl's mouth, in spite of her teeth : you hope to succeed by chanting ditties composed in the days of Corisande and of Henry IV., which you will swear yourself have made upon her : happy in practising the ceremonials of gallantry, you have no ambition for the essentials. Very well : every one has a particular way of acting, as well as a particular taste : yours is to trifle in love ; and, provided you can make Mademoiselle de St. Germain laugh, yoti are satisfied : as for my part, I am persuaded, that women here are made of the same materials as in other places ; and I do not think that they can be mightily offended, if one sometimes leaves off tri- fling, to come to the point : however, if the Marchioness is not of tliis way of thinking, she may e'en provide her- self elsewhere, for I can assure her, that I shall not long act the part of her squire." This was an unnecessary menace ; for the Marchioness in reality liked him very well, was nearly of the same way of thinking herself, and wished for nothing more than to put his gallantry to the test. But Matta pro- ceeded upon a wrong plan ; he had conceived such an aversion for her husband, that he could not prevail upon him.self to make the smallest advance towards his good graces. He was given to understand that he ought to begin by endeavoring to lull the dragon to sleep, before he could gain possession of the treasure ; but this was all to no purpose, though, at the same time, he could never see his mistress but in public. This made him impa- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 69 tient, and as he was lameiitiii*;^ his ill-forlune to her one day: " Have the goodness, niadanie," said he, " to let me know where yon live : there is never a day that I do not call upon you, at least, three or four times, without ever being blessed with a sight of you." " I generally sleep at home," replied she, laughing, "but I must tell you, that you will never find me there, if you do not first pay a visit to the Marquis : I am not mistress of the house. I do not tell you," continued she, "that he is a man whose acquaintance any one would very impatiently covet for his conversation : on the contrary, I agree that his humor is fantastical, and his manners not of the pleasing cast ; but there is nothing so savage and inhu- man which a little care, attention, and complaisance may not tame into docility. I nnist repeat to you some verses upon the subject: I have got them by heart, because they contain a little advice, which yon may accommo- date, if you please, to your own case." RONDEAU. Keep in mind these maxims rare, You w ho hope to win the fair ; Who are, or would esteemed be, The quintessence of gallantry. That fopp'rj-, griiniing, and grimace. And fertile store of common-place ; That oaths as false as dicers swear, And iv'ry teeth, and scente{l hair ; That trinkets, and the pride of dress, Can only give your scheme success. Keep in mind. Hast thy charmer e'er an aunt? Then learn the rules of woman's cant, And forge a tale, and swear you read it. Such as, save woman, none would credit : Win o'er her confidante and pages By gold, for this a goldeu age is ; 70 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. And should it be her wayward fate, To be encumbered with a mate, A (hill, old dotard should he be, That duliiess claims thy courtesy. Keep ill luiiul. "Truh," said Matta, "the soii<»^ may say what it pleases, but I cannot put it in practice : your husband is far too exquisite a monster for me. Why, wliat a plaguey odd ceremony do you require of us in this coiui- try, if we cannot pay our compliments to the wife with- out being in love with the husband ! " The Marchioness was much offended at this answer ; and as she thought she had done enough in pointing out to him the path which would conduct him to success, if he had deserved it, she did not think it worth while to enter into any farther explanation ; since he refused to cede, for her sake, so trifling an objection : from this in- stant she resolved to have done with him. The Chevalier de Grammont had taken leave of his mistress nearly at the same time : the ardor of his pur- suit was extinguished. It was not that Mademoiselle de Saint Germain was less worthy than hitherto of his atten- tions : on the contrary her attractions visibly increased : she retired to her pillow with a thousand charms, and ever rose from it with additional beauty : the phrase of increasing in beauty as she increased in years seemed to have been purpo.sely made for her. The Chevalier could not deny these truths, but yet he could not find his account in them : a little less merit, with a little less di.s- cretion, would have been more agreeable. He perceived that she attended to him with pleasure, that she was diverted with his stories as much as he could wish, and that she received his billets and presents without scruple ; but then he also discovered that .she did not wish to pro- ceed any farther. He had exhausted every species of address npon her, and all to no purpose : her attendant was gained : her family, charmed with the music of his MEMOIRS OF COUNT ORAMMONT. 71 conversation and his great attention, were never liapj^y withont him : in short, he had reduced to practice the advice contained in the Marchioness's song, and every- thing conspired to deliver the little Saint Germain into his hands, if the little Saint Germain had herself been willing : but alas ! she was not inclined. It was in vain he told her the favor he desired would cost her nothing ; and that since these treasures were rarely comprised in the fortune a lady brings with her in marriage, she would never find any person, who, by unremitting tenderness, unwearied attachment, and inviolable secrecy, would prove more worthy of them than himself. He then told her no husband was ever able to convey a proper idea of the sweets of love, and that nothing could be more differ- ent than the passionate fondness of a lover, always ten- der, always affectionate, yet always respectful, and the careless indifference of a husband. Mademoiselle de Saint Germain, not wishing to take the matter in a serious light, that she might not be forced to resent it, answered, that since it was generally the custom in her country to marry, she thought it was right to conform to it, without entering into the knowl- edge of those distinctions, and those marvellous particu- lars, which she did not very well understand, and of which she did not wish to have any further explanation ; that she had submitted to listen to him this one time, but desired he would never speak to her again in the same strain, since such sort of conversation was neither entertaining to her, nor could be serviceable to him. Though no one was ever more facetious than Madem- oiselle de Saint Germain, she yet knew how to assume a very serious air, whenever occasion required it. The Chevalier de Grammont soon saw that she was in ear- nest ; and finding it would cost him a great deal of time to effect a change in her sentiments, he was so far cooled in this pursuit, that he only made use of it to hide the designs he had upon the Marchioness de Se- nantes. 72 MEMOIRS OF COUNT ORAM. MONT. He found tliis lady much disgusted at Matta's want of complaisance ; and his seeming contempt for her erased every favorable impression which she had once enter- tained for him. While she was in this humor, the Chevalier told her that her resentment was just ; he ex- agreerated the loss which his friend had sustained ; he told her that her charms were a thousand times superior to those of the little Saint Germain, and requested that favor for himself which his friend did not deserve. He was soon fa\orabl\- heard upon this topic ; and as soon as they were agreed, they consulted upon two measures necessary to be taken, the one to deceive her husband, the other his friend, which was not very difficult : ]\Iatta was not at all suspicious : and the stupid Senantes, to- wards whom the Chevalier had already behaved as Matta had refused to do, could not be easy without him. This was much more than was wanted ; for as soon as ever the Chevalier was with the Maichioness, her husband imme- diately joined them out of politeness ; and on no account would have left them alone together, for fear they should grow weary of each other without him. Matta, who all this time was entirely ignorant that he was disgraced, continued to serve his mistress in his own way. She had agreed with the Chevalier de Grammont, that to all appearance everything should be carried on as before ; so that the court always believed that the Mar- chioness only thought of Matta, and that the Chevalier was entirely devoted to ^Mademoiselle de Saint Ciermain. There were very frequently little lotteries for trinkets : the Chevalier de Grammont always tried his fortune, and was sometimes fortunate ; and under pretence of the prizes he had won, he bought a thousand things which he indiscreetly gave to the Marchioness, and which she still more indiscreetly accepted : the little Saint Germain very seldom received anything. There are meddling whisperers everywhere : remarks were made upon these proceedings ; and the same person that made them com- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 73 niiinicated them likewise to Mademoiselle de Saint Ger- main. She pretended to langh, but in reality was piqued. It is a maxim religiously observed by the fair sex, to envy each other those indulgences which themselves refuse. She took this ver)- ill of the Marchioness. On the other hand, IMatta was asked if he was not old enough to make his own presents himself to the Marchioness de Senantes, without sending them by the Chevalier de Grammont. This roused him ; for of himself, he would never have perceived it : his suspicions, however, were but slight, and he was willing to have them removed. "I must confess," said he to the Chevalier de Gram- mont, " that they make love here quite in a new style ; a man serves here without reward : he addresses himself to the husband when he is in love with the wife, and makes presents to another man's mistress, to get into the good graces of his own. The Marchioness is much ob- liged to you for " "It is you who are obliged," replied the Chevalier, "since this was done on your account : I was ashamed to find yon had never ) et thought of presenting her with any trifling token of your attention : do you know that the people of this court have such extraordinary notions, as to think that it is rather owing to inadvertency that you never yet have had the spirit to make your mistress the smallest pres- ent? For shame! how ridiculous it is, that you can never think for yourself ! ' ' IMatta took this rebuke, without making any answer, being persuaded that he had in some measure deserved it : besides, he was neither sufficiently jealous, nor siiffi- ciently amorous, to think any more of it ; however, as it was necessary for the Chevalier's affairs that Matta shotdd be acquainted with the Marquis de Senantes, he plagued him so much about it, that at last he complied. His friend introduced him, and his mistress seemed pleased with this proof of complaisance, though she was resolved that he should gain nothing by it : and the hus- 74 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. baud, being gratified with a piece of civility which he had long expected, determined, that very evening, to give them a supper at a little country seat of his, on the banks of the river, very near the city. The Chevalier de Grammont answering for them both, accepted the offer ; and as this was the only one Matta would not have refused from the Marquis, he likewise consented. The Marquis came to convey them in his carriage at the hour appointed ; but he found only Matta. The Chevalier had engaged himself to play, on purpose that they might go without him : Matta was for waiting for him, so great was his fear of being left alone with the Marquis ; but the Chevalier having sent to desire them to go on before, and that he would be with them as soon as he had finished his game, poor Matta was ob- liged to set out with the man who, of all the world, was most oflFensive to him. It was not the Chevalier's inten- tion quickly to extricate INIatta out of this embarrass- ment : he no sooner knew that they were gone, than he waited on the Marchioness, under pretence of still find- ing her husband, that they might all go together to supper. The plot was in a fair way ; and as the IVIarchioness was of opinion that Matta's indifference merited no bet- ter treatment from her, she made no scruple of acting her part in it : she therefore waited for the Chevalier de Grammont with intentions so much the more favorable, as she had for a long time expected him, and had some curiosity to receive a visit from him in the absence of her husband. We may therefore suppose that this first opportunity would not have been lost, if Mademoiselle de Saint Germain had not unex- pectedly come in, almost at the same time with the Chevalier. She was more handsome and more entertaining that day than she had ever been before; however, she appeared to them very ugly and very tiresome : she soon perceived MKMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 75 that her company was disagreeable, and being deter- mined that they should not be out of humor with her for nothing, after having passed above a long half hour in diverting herself with their uneasiness, and in playing a thousand monkey tricks, which she plainly saw could never be more unseasonable, she pulled off her hood, scarf, and all that part of her dress which ladies lay aside, when in a familiar manner they intend to pass the day anywhere. The Chevalier de Grammont cursed her in his heart, while she continued to torment him for being in such ill-humor in such good company : at last the Marchioness, who was as much vexed as he was, said rather drily that she was obliged to wait on her Royal Highness : Mademoiselle de Saint Germain told her that she would have the honor to accompany her, if it would not be disagreeable : she took not the smallest notice of her offer ; and the Chevalier, finding that it woiild be entirely useless to prolong his visit at that time, retired with a good grace. As soon as he had left the house, he sent one of his scouts to desire the Marquis to sit down to table with his company without waiting for him, because the game might not perhaps be finished as soon as he expected, but that he would be with him before supper was over. Having despatched this messenger, he placed a sentinel at the Marchioness's door, in hopes that the tedious Saint Germain might go out before her ; but this was in vain, for his spy came and told him, after an hour's impatience and suspense, that they were gone out together. He found that there was no chance of seeing her again that day, everj'thing falling out contrary to his wishes ; he was forced therefore to leave the Marchioness, and go in quest of the Marquis. While these things were going on in the city, Matta was not much diverted in the country : as he was preju- diced against the Marquis, all that he said displeased him : he cursed the Chevalier heartily for the tete-a-tete 76 MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. which he had procured him ; and he was upon the point of going away, when he fonnd that he was to sit down to snpper without an}- other company. However, as his host was very choice in his entertain- ments, and had the best wine and the best cook in all Piedmont, the sight of the first course appeased him ; and eating most voraciously,, without paying any atten- tion to the Marquis, he flattered himself that the supper would end without any dispute ; but he was mistaken. When the Chevalier de Grammont was at first endeav- oring to bring about an intercourse between the Marquis and Matta, he had given a very advantageous character of the latter, to make the former more desirous of his ac- quaintance; and in the display of a thousand other accom- plishments, knowing what an infatuation the Marquis had for the very name of erudition, he assured him that Matta was one of the most learned men in Europe. The INIarquis, therefore, from the moment they sat down to supper, had expected some stroke of learning from Alatta, to bring his own into play ; but he was much out in his reckoning; no one had read less, no one thought less, and no one had ever spoken so little at an entertain- ment as he had done : as he did not wish to enter into conyersation, he opened his mouth only to eat, or ask for wine. The other, being offended at a silence which appeared to him affected, and wearied with having uselessly attacked him upon other subjects, thought he might get something out of him by changing the discourse of love and gallantry ; and therefore, to begin the subject, he ac- costed him in this manner : "Since you are my wife's gallant " "I!" said IMatta, who wished to carry it discreetly : "those who told you so, told a d — d lie." "Zounds, sir," said the Marquis, "yoii speak in a tone which does not at all become you, for I would have you to know, notwith- standing your contemptuous airs, that the Marchioness MEMOIRS OF COUNT (iRAMMONT. 77 de Senantes is perhaps as worthy of your attentions as any of your French ladies, and that I have known some greatly your superiors, who have thought it an honor to serve her." "Very well," said !\Iatta, "I think she is very deserving, and since you insist upon it, I am her servant and gallant, to oblige you." "You think, perhaps," continued the other, "that the same ciistom prevails in this country as in your own, and that the ladies have lovers, with no other intentions than to grant them favors : undeceive yourself, if you please, and know, likewise, that even if such events were fre- qixent in this court, I should not be at all uneasy." "Nothing can be more civil," said Matta ; but where- fore would you not?" " I will tell you why," replied he : "I am well acquainted with the affection my wife entertains for me : I am acquainted with her discretion towards all the world ; and, what is more, I am acquainted with my own merit." "You have a most uncommon acquaintance, then," replied Matta ; "I congratulate you upon it ; I have the honor to drink it in a bumper." The IMarquis pledged him ; but seeing that the conversation dropped on their ceasing to drink, after two or three healths, he wished to make a second attempt, and attack Matta on his strong side, that is to say, on his learning. He desired him, therefore, to tell him, at what time he thought the Allobroges came to settle in Piedmont. Matta, who wished him and his Allobroges at the devil, said, that it must be in the time of the civil wars. "I doubt that," said the other. "Just as you like," said Matta. "Under what consulate?" replied the Marquis. "Under that of the League," said Matta, "when the Guises brought the Lansquenets into France; but what the devil does that signify ? " The Marquis was tolerably warm, and naturally sav- age, so that God knows how the conversation would have ended, if the Chevalier de Grammont had not un- 78 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. expected! y come in to appease them. It was some time before he could find out what their debate was ; for the one had forgotten the questions, and the other the answers, which had disobliged him, in order to reproach the Chevalier with his eternal passion for play, which made him always uncertain. The Chevalier, who knew that he was still more culpable than they thought, bore it all with patience, and condemned himself more than they desired : this appeased them ; and the entertain- ment ended with greater tranquility than it had begun. The conversation was again reduced to order ; but he could not enliven it as he usually did. He was in very ill humor, and as he pressed them every minute to rise from the table, the Marquis was of opinion that he had lost a great deal. Matta said, on the contrary, that he had won ; but for want of precautions had made perhaps an unfortunate retreat ; and asked him if he had not stood in need of Serjeant La Place, with his ambus- cade. This piece of history was beyond the comprehension of the Marquis, and being afraid that Matta might ex- plain it, the Chevalier changed the discourse, and was for rising from the table : but Matta would not consent to it. This effected a reconciliation between him and the Marquis, who thought this was a piece of civility intended for him ; however it was not for him, but for his wine to which Matta had taken a prodigious liking. The Duchess, who knew the character of the Marquis, was charmed with the account which the Chevalier de Grammont gave her of the entertainment and conversa- tion : she sent for Matta to know the truth of it from himself : he confessed, that before the Allobroges were mentioned the Marquis was for quarrelling with him, because he was not in love with his wife. Their acquaintance having begun in this manner, all the esteem which the ]\Iarquis had formerly expressed for the Chevalier seemed now directed towards Matta : he MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 79 went every day to pay Matta a visit, and Matta was every day with his wife. This did not at all suit the Cheva- lier : he repented of his having chid Matta, whose assi- dnity now interrupted all his schemes; and the Marchion- ess was still more embarrassed. Whatever wit a man may have, it will never please where his company is disliked ; and she repented that she had been formerly g:uiltv of some trifling^ advances towards him. ]\Iatta began to find charms in her person, and might have found the same in her conversation, if she had been inclined to display them ; but it is impossible to be in good humor with persons who thwart our designs. While his passion increased, the Chevalier de Gram- mont was solely occupied in endeavoring to find out some method, by which he might accomplish his intrigue ; and this was the stratagem which he put into execution to clear the coast, b\- removing, at one and the same time, both the lover and the husband. He told Matta, that they ought to invite the Marquis to supper at their lodgings, and he would take upon him- self to provide everything proper for the occasion. Matta desired to know if it was to play at quinze, and assured him that he should take care to render abortive any intention he might have to engage in play, and leave him alone with the greatest blockhead in all Europe. The Chevalier de Grammont did not entertain any such thought, being persuaded that it would be im- possible to take advantage of any such opportunity, in whatever manner he might take his measures ; and that they would seek for him in every corner of the city rather than allow him the least repose : his whole atten- tion was therefore employed in rendering the entertain- ment agreeable, in finding out means of prolonging it, in order ultimately to kindle some dispiite between the Marquis and Matta. For this purpose he put himself in the best humor in the world, and the wine produced the same effect on the rest of the company. 80 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. The Chevalier de Grammont expressed his concern that he had not been able to give the Marqnis a little concert, as he had intended in the morning ; for the mnsicians had been all pre-engaged. Upon this the iVIarqnis nndertook to have them at his coxintry-house the following evening, and invited the same company to sup with him there. Matta asked what the dc\'il they wanted with music, and maintained that it was of no use on siich occasions but for women who had some- thing to say to their lovers, while the fiddles prevented them from being overheard, or for fools who had nothing to .say when the music ended. They ridiculed all his arguments : the party was fixed for the next day, and the music was voted by the majority of voices. The Marquis, to console Matta, as well as to do honor to the entertainment, toasted a great many healths : INIatta was more ready to listen to his arguments on this to])ic than in a di.spute ; but the Chevalier, perceiving that a little would irritate them, desired nothing more earnestly than to see them engaged in some new controversy. It was in vain that he had from.time to time started some subject of discourse with this intention ; but having luckily thought of asking what was his lady's maiden name, Senantes, who was a great genealogist, as all fools are who have good memories, immediately began by tracing out her family, by an endless, confused string of lineage. The Chevalier .seemed to listen to him with great attention ; and perceiving that INIatta was almost out of patience, he desired him to attend to what the Marquis was saying, for that nothing could be more entertaining. "All this may be very true," said Matta ; " but for my part, I must confess, if I were married, I .should rather choo.se to inform myself who was the real father of my children, than who were my wife's grand- fathers." The Marquis, smiling at this rudeness, did not leave off until he had traced back the ancestors of his .spouse, from line to line, as far as Yolande de Se- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 81 nantes : after this he offered to prove, iu less than lialf an hour, that the Grammonts came originally from Spain. "Very well," said Matta, "and pray what does it signify to lis from whence the Grammonts are descended ? Do not you know, sir, that it is better to know nothing at all, than to know too much ? " The Marquis maintained the contrary with great warmth, and was preparing a formal argument to prove that an ignorant man is a fool ; but the Chevalier de Granimont, who was thoroughly acquainted with Matta, saw very clearly that he would send the logician to the devil before he should arrive at the conclusion of his syllogism : for which reason, interposing as soon as they began to raise their voices, he told them it was ridic- ulous to quarrel about an affair in itself so trivial, and treated the matter in a serious light, that it might make the greater impression. Thus supper terminated peaceably, owing to the care he took to suppress all disputes, and to substitute plenty of wine in their stead. The next day Matta went to the chase, the Chevalier de Grammont to the bagnio, and the Marquis to his country house. While the latter was making the neces- sary preparations for his guests, not forgetting the music, and Matta pursuing his game to get an appe- tite, the Chevalier was meditating on the execution of his project. As soon as he had regulated his plan of operations in his own mind, he privately sent anonymoiis intel- ligence to the officer of the guard at the palace that the Marquis de Senantes had had some words with Monsieur de Matta the preceding night at supper ; that the one had gone out in the morning, and the other could not be found in the city. ]\Iadame Royale, alarmed at this advice, immediately sent for the Chevalier de Grammont : he appeared sur- prised when her highness mentioned the affair : he con- fessed, indeed, that some high words had passed between 6 82 MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. them, but tliat he did not believe either of them would have remembered them the next day. He said that if no mischief had yet taken place, the best way would be to secure them both until the morning, and that if they could be found, he would undertake to reconcile them, and to obliterate all grievances : in this there was no great difficulty. On inquiry at the Marquis's they were informed that he was gone to his country-house : there certainly he was, and there they found him ; the officer put him mider an arrest, without assigning any reason for so doing, and left him in very great surprise. Immediately upon Matta's return from hunting, her Royal Highness sent the same officer to desire him to give her his word that he would not stir out that even- ing. This compliment very much surprised him, more particularly as no reason was assigned for it. He was expected at a good entertainment, he was dying with hunger, and nothing appeared to him more unreasonable than to oblige him to stay at home, in a situation like the present ; but he had given his word, and not know- ing to what this might tend, his only resource was to send for his friend ; but his friend did not come to him until his return from the country. He had there found the ]\Iarquis in the midst of his fiddlers, and very much vexed to find himself a prisoner in his own house on ac- count of Matta, whom he was waiting for in order to feast him : he complained of him bitterly to the Cheva- lier de Grammont : he said that he did not believe that he had oifended him ; but that, since he was very desir- ous of a quarrel, he desired the Chevalier to acquaint him, if he felt the least displeasure on the present occa- sion, he should, on the very first opportunity, receive what is called satisfaction. The Chevalier de Grammont assured him that no such thought had ever entered the mind of Matta ; that on tlie contrary, he knew that he very greatly esteenu-d him ; tliat all this could alone arise from the extreme tenderness of his lady, who, being MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 83 alanned upon the report of the servants who waited at table, must have gone to her Royal Highness, in order to prevent an)- unpleasant consequences ; that he thought this the more probable, as he had often told the Mar- chioness, when speaking of Matta, that he was the best swordsman in France. The Marquis, being a little pacified, said he was very much obliged to him, that he would severely chide his wife for her unseasonable tenderness, and that he was extremely desirous of again enjoying the pleasure of his dear friend Matta' s company. The Chevalier de Grammont assured him that he would use all his endeavors for that purpose, and at the same time gave strict charge to his guard not to let him escape without orders from the Court, as he seemed fully bent upon fighting, and they would be responsible for him : there was no occasion to say more to have him strictly watched, though there was no necessity for it. One being thus safely lodged, his next step was to seciire the other : he returned immediately to town : and as soon as Matta saw him, " What the devil," said he, "is the meaning of this farce which I am obliged to act? for my part, I cannot understand the foolish customs of this country ; how comes it that they make me a prisoner upon my parole?" "How comes it?" said the Cheva- lier de Grammont, "it is because you yourself are far more unaccountable than all their customs ; ) ou cannot help disputing with a peevish fellow, whom you ought only to laugh at ; some officious footman has no doubt been talking of your last night's dispute ; you were seen to go out of town in the morning, and the Marquis soon after ; was not this sxifficient to make her Royal High- ness think herself obliged to take these precautions? The Marquis is in custody ; they have only required your parole ; so far, therefore, from taking the afiair in the sense you do, I should send very humbly to thank her Highness for the kindness she has manifested towards 84 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. yoli in putting >-ou under arrest, since it is only on your account that she interests herself in the affair." Matta charged him not to fail to express to her Royal Highness the grateful sense he had of her favor, though in truth he as little feared the Marquis as he loved him ; and it is impossible to express the degree of his fortitude in stronger terms. As soon as the Chevalier de Grammont perceived that everything coincided with his wishes, and that towards the end of the entertainment the toasts went merrily round, he knew he was sure of his man till next day : then taking him aside with the permission of the com- pany, and making use of a false confidence in order to disguise a real treachen,-, he acquainted him, after hav- ing sworn him several times to secrecy, that he had at last prevailed upon the little Saint Germain to grant him an interview that night ; for which reason he would take his leave, under pretence of going to pla>- at Court ; he therefore desired him fully to satisfy the company that he would not have left them on any other account, as the Piedmontese are naturally mistrustful. IMatta prom- ised he would manage this point with discretion ; that he would make an apolog}' for him, and that there was no occasion for his personally taking leave : then, after con- gratulating him upon the happy posture of his affairs, he sent him away with all the expedition and secrecy im- aginable ; so great was his fear lest his friend should lose the present opportunity. Matta then returned to the company, much pleased with the confidence which had been placed in him, and with the share he had in the success of this adventure. It was late at night before the company broke up, and Matta went to bed, very well satisfied with what he had done for his friend ; and, if we may credit appearances, this friend enjoyed the fruit of his perfidy. The amorous Marchioness received him like one who wished to en- hance the value of the favor she bestowed ; her charms MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 85 were far from being neglected ; and if there are any cir- cumstances in which we may detest the traitor while we profit by the treason, this was not one of them ; and how- ever successful the Chevalier de Grammont was in his intrigues, it was not owing to him that the contrary was not believed ; but, be that as it may, being convinced that in love whatever is gained by address is gained fairly, it does not appear that he ever showed the smallest de- gree of repentance for this trick. But it is now time for us to take him from the court of Savoy, to see him shine in that of France. ANNE OF AUSTRIA. CHAPTER V. The Chevalier de Grammont, upon his return to France, sustained, with the greatest success, the reputa- tion he had acquired abroad : alert in play, active and vigilant in love ; sometimes siiccessful, and always feared, in his intrigues ; in war alike prepared for the events of good or ill fortune ; possessing an inexhaustible fund of pleasantry in the former, and full of expedients and dex- terity in the latter. Zealously attached to the Prince de Conde * from in- * Louis of Bourbon, Duke d'Engliien, afterwards, bj' the death of his father in 1656, Priuce de Conde. Of this great man Cardinal de Retz says : " He was horn a general, which never hajjpened but to Caesar, to Spinola, and to himself. He has equalled the first : he has surj^assed the second. Intrepidity is one of the least shining .strokes in his char- acter. Nature had formed him with a mind as great as his courage. Fortune, in setting him out in a time of wars, has given this last a full extent to work in : his birth, or rather his education, in a family de- voted and enslaved to the court, has kept the first within too strait bounds. He was not taught time enough the great and general maxims which alone are able to form men to think always consistently. He never had time to learn them of himself, because he was prevented from his youth, hy the great affairs that fell unexpectedh- to his .share, and by the continual success he met with. This defect in him was the cause, that with the soul iu the world the least inclined to evil, he has m MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 87 clination, he was a witness, and, if we ma}' be allowed to say it, his companion, in the i^lory he had acqnired at the celebrated battles of Lens, Norlingnen, and Fri- bonrg ; * and the details he so freqnently gave of them were far from diminishing their lustre. So long as he had only some scruples of conscience, and a thousand interests to sacrifice, he quitted all to follow a man, whom strong motives and resentments, which in some manner appeared excusable, had with- drawn from the paths of rectitude : he adhered to him in his first disgrace, with a constancy of which there are few examples ; but he could not submit to the injuries which he afterwards received, and which such an in- violable attachment so little merited. Therefore, with- out fearing any reproach for a conduct which sufficiently 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 ha\nng all the qualities which the Duke Francis of Guise had, he has not served the state in some occasions so well as he ought ; and that having likewise all the qualities of the Duke Henry of Guise, he has not carried faction so far as he might. He could not come up to the height of his merit ; which, though it be a defect, nmst yet be owned to be ver^- uncommon, and only to be foimd in persons of the greatest abilities." I\fcuioirs, vol. i., p. 248, edit. 1723. He retired from the army, soon after the death of Turenne, to Chantilly, "from whence," says Voltaire, "he very rarely came to Versailles, to behold his glory eclipsed in a place where the courtier never regards anj'thing but favor. He passed the remainder of his daj-s, tormented with the gout, relieving the severity of his pains, and emplo)-ing the leisure of his retreat in the conversation of men of genius of all kinds, with which France then abounded. He was worthy of their conversation ; as he was not unacquainted with any of those arts and sciences in which they shone. He contiimed to be admired even in his retreat ; but at last that devouring fire, which, in his youth, had made him a hero, impetuous, and full of pa.ssions, having consumed the strength of his body, which was naturally rather agile than robust, he declined before his time ; and the strength of his mind decaying with that of his bod}-, there remained nothing of the great Conde during the last two years of his life. He died in 1686." Age of Louis XIV., chap. II. He was aged 66 years. *These were fought in the years 1648, 1645, and 1644. 88 MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. justified itself, as he had formerly deviated from his duty by entering into the service of the Prince de Condc, 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 in favor, when they desired it ; for the queen,* still ter- rified at the dangers into which the civil wars had plunged the State at the commencement of her regency, endeavored by lenient measures to conciliate the minds of the people. The policy of the minister t was neither * Anne of Austria, daughter of Philip III. of Spain, widow of Louis XIII., to whom she was married in 1615, and mother of Louis XIV. She died in 1666. Cardinal de Retz speaks of her in the following terms: "The queen had more than anybody whom I ever knew, of that sort of wit which was necessary for her not to appear a fool to those that did not know her. She had in her more of harshness than haughtiness ; more of haughtiness than of greatness ; more of outward appearance than reality ; more regard to money than liberality ; more of liberality than of self-interest ; more of self-interest than disinterest- edness : she was more tied to persons by habit than by affection ; she had more of insensibility than of cruelty ; she had a better memorj^ for injuries than for benefits ; her intention towards piety was greater than her piety ; she had in her more of obstinacy than of firmness ; and more incapacity than of all the rest which I mentioned before." Me- moirs, vol. i., p. 247. t Cardinal jMazarin, who, during a few of the latter years of his life, governed France. He died at Vincennes the 9th of March, 1661, aged 59 years, leaving as heir to his name and property the Marquis de la Meilleray, who tnarried his niece, and took the title of Duke of INIazarin. On his death, Louis XIV. and the court appeared in mourning, an honor not common, though Henrj^ IV. had shown it to the memory of Gabrielle d'Kstreds. Voltaire, who appears imwilling to ascribe much ability to the cardinal, takes an opportunitj-, on occasion of his death, to make the following observation : "We cannot refrain from combat- ing the opinion, which supposes prodigious abilities, and a genius almost divine, in those who have governed empires with .some degree of success. It is not a superior penetration that makes .statesmen ; it is their character. All men, how inconsiderable soever their share of sense may be, see their own interest nearly alike. A citizen of Hern or Amsterdam, in this respect, is equal to Sejanus, Ximenes, T?ucking- ham, Richelieu, or Mazarin ; but our conduct and our enterprises de- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 89 sanguinary nor revengeful : his favorite maxim was rather to appease the minds of the discontented by lenity than to have recourse to violent measures ; to be content with losing nothing by the war, without being at the expense of gaining any advantage from the enemy : to suffer his character to be very severely handled, provided he could amass much wealth, and to spin out the minor- ity to the greatest possible extent. His avidity to heap up riches was not alone confined to the thousand different means, with which he was fur- nished by his authority, and the situation in which he was placed: his whole pursuit was gain: he was naturally fond of gaming ; but he only played to enrich himself, and therefore, whenever he found an opportunity, he cheated. As he found the Chevalier de Grammont possessed a great deal of wit, and a great deal of money, he was a man according to his wishes, and soon became one of his set. The Chevalier soon perceived the artfulness and dishonesty of the Cardinal, and thought it was allowable in him to put in practice those talents which he had received from nature, not only in his own defence, hnt even to attack him whenever an opportunity offered. This would certainly be the place to mention these particulars; but who can describe them with such ease and elegance as may be expected by those who have heard his own relation of them ? \^ain is the attempt to endeavor to transcribe these entertaining anecdotes : their spirit seems to evaporate upon paper; and in whatever light they are exposed the delicacy of their coloring and their beauty is lost. It is, then, enough to say, that upon all occasions where address was reciprocally employed, the Chevalier gained the advantage ; and that if he paid his court badly pend absolutely on our natural dispositions, and our success depends upon fortune." A^^e of Louis XIV., chap. 5. 90 MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. to the minister, he had the consokitiou to find, that those who suffered themselves to be cheated, in the end gained no great advantage from their complaisance ; for they always continued in an abject submission, while the Chevalier de Granimont, on a thousand different occa- sions, never put himself under the least restraint. Of which the following is one instance: The Spanish anny, commanded by the Prince de Condc and the archduke,* besieged Arras. The Court was advanced as far as Peronne. f The enemy, by the capture of this place, would have procured a reputation for their army of which they were in great need ; as the French, for a considerable time past, had evinced a supe- riority in every engagement. The Prince supported a tottering party, as far as their usual inactivity and irresolution permitted him ; but as in the events of wAr it is necessary to act independently on some occasions, which, if once suffered to escape, can never be retrieved ; for want of this power it frequently happened that his great abilities were of no avail. The Spanish infantry had never recovered itself since the bat- tle of Rocroy ; X and he who had ruined them by that victory, by fighting against them, was the only man who now, by commanding their army, was capable of repairing the mischief he had done them. But the jeal- ousy of the generals, and the distrust attendant upon their counsels, tied up his hands. Nevertheless, the siege of Arras § was vigorously * Leopold, brother of the Emperor Ferdinand III. t A little but .stronjf town, standing among marshes on the river Sonnne, in Picard)'. ^ This famous battle was fought and won 19th May, 1643, ^^'^^ days after the death of Louis XIII. 'i Voltaire observes, that it was the fortune of Turenne and Conde to be ahvaj's victorious when they fought at the head of the French, and to be vanquished when they commanded the Spaniards. This was Condd's fate before Arras, August 25, 1654, when he and the archduke besieged that city. Turenne attacked them in their camp, and forced MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 91 carried on. The Cardinal was very sensible liow dis- honorable it would be to suffer this place to be taken under his nose, and almost in sight of the king. On the other hand, it was very hazardous to attempt its relief, the Prince de 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 Conde how to make the best use of an advantage. The army, commanded by Monsieur de Turenne, was considerably weaker than that of the enemy ; it was, likewise, the only resource they had to depend upon. If this army was defeated, the loss of Arras was not the only misfor- tune to be dreaded. The Cardinal, whose genius was happily adapted to such junctures, where deceitful negotiations could extri- cate him out of difficulties, was filled with terror at the sight of imminent danger, or of a decisive event : he was of opinion to lay siege to some other place, the capture of which might prove an indemnification for the loss of Arras ; but Monsieur de Turenne, who was altogether of a different opinion from the Cardinal, resolved to march towards the enemy, and did not acquaint him with his intentions until he was upon his march. The courier arrived in the midst of his distress, and redoubled his apprehensions and alarms ; but there was then no remedy. their lines : the troops of the archduke were cut to pieces ; and Conde, 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 Ferte, and retreated victoriously himself, by covering the retreat of the vanquished vSpan- iards. The king of Spain, in his letter to him after this engagement, had these words : " I have been informed that everything was lost, aud that }-ou have recovered everything." 92 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. The Marshal, whose great reputation had gained him the confidence of the troops, had determined upon his measures before an express order from the Court could prevent him. This was one of those occasions in which the difficulties you encounter heighten the glory of suc- cess. Though the general's capacity, in some measure, afforded comfort to the Court, they nevertheless were upon the eve of an event, which in one way or other must terminate both their hopes and their fears : while the rest of the courtiers were giving various opinions concerning the issue, the Chevalier de Grammont deter- mined to be an eye-witness of it ; a resolution which greatly surprised the Court ; for those who had seen as many actions as he had, seemed to be exempted from such eagerness ; but it was in vain that his friends opposed his resolutions. The king was pleased with his intention ; and the queen appeared no less satisfied. He assured her that he would bring her good news ; and she promised to embrace him, if he was as good as his word. The Cardinal made the same promise : to the latter, however, he did not pay much attention ; yet he believed it sincere, because the keeping of it would cost him nothing. He .set out in the dusk of the evening with Caseau, whom INIonsieur de Turenne had sent express to their majesties. The Duke of York,* and the Marquis d'Humieres,t commanded under the INIarshal : the latter was upon duty when the Chevalier arrived, it being scarce daylight. The Duke of York did not at first rec- * Priorato, in his Memoirs of Cardinal Mazarin, mentions other En<;lishnien besides the Duke of York being present ; as Lords Gerrard, Barclay, and Jermyn, wth others. Memoirs, i2nio, 1673, tome i., part 3. P- 365- t Louis de Crevans, Mar^chal of France. He died 1694. Voltaire says of him, that he was the first who, at the siege of Arras, in 1658, was served in silver in the trenches, and had ragouts and entremets ser\'ed up to his table. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 93 ollect him ; but the Marquis d'Humi^res, running to him with open arms, " I thought," said he, " if any man came from court to pay us a visit upon such an occasion as this, it would be the Chevalier de Grammont. Well," continued he, "what are they doing at Peronne?" " They are in great consternation," replied the Chevalier. "And what do they think of us?" "They think," said he, "that if you beat the Prince, you will do no more than your duty ; if you are beaten, they will think you fools and madmen, thus to have risked everything, withoiit considering the consequences. " "Truly," said the Marquis, "you bring us very comfortable news. Will you now go to Monsieur de Turenne's quarters, to acquaint him with it ; or will you choose rather to repose yourself in mine ? for you have been riding post all last night, and perhaps did not experience much rest in the preceding." "Where have you heard that the Chevalier de Grammont had ever any occasion for sleep? " replied he: "Only order me a horse, that I may have the honor to attend the Duke of York ; for, most likely, he is not in the field so early, except to visit some posts." The advanced guard was only at cannon-shot from that of the enemy. As soon as they arrived there, ' ' I should like," said the Chevalier de Grammont, "to ad- vance as far as the sentry which is posted on that emi- nence : I have some friends and acquaintance in their army, whom I should wish to inquire after : I hope the Duke of York will give me permission." At these words he advanced. The sentry, seeing him come for- ward directly to his post, stood iipon his guard : the Chevalier stopped as soon as he was within shot of him. The sentry answered the sign which was made, to him, and made another to the officer, who had begun to ad- vance as soon as he had seen the Chevalier come forward, and was soon up with him ; but seeing the Chevalier de Grammont alone, he made no difficulty to let him ap- proach. He desired leave of this officer to inquire after 94 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. some relations he had in their army, and at the same time asked if the Duke d' Arscot was at the siege. " Sir , " said he, "there he is, just alighted imder those trees, which yon see on the left of our grand guard : it is hardly a minute since he was here with the Prince d'Aremberg, his brother, the Baron de Limbec, and Louvigny." "May I see them upon parole?" said the Chevalier. " Sir," said he, " if I were allowed to quit niy post, I would do myself the honor of accompanying you thither ; but I will send to acquaint them that the Chevalier de Grammont desires to speak to them and, after having despatched one of his guard towards them, he returned. "Sir," said the Chevalier de Grammont, "may I take the liberty to inquire how I came to be known to you ? " " Is it possible," said the other, "that the Chevalier de Grammont should forget La Motte, who liad the honor to serve so long in his regiment? " "What ! is it you, my good friend, La Motte? Truly, I was to blame for not remembering you, though you are in a dress very different from that which I first saw you in at Bruxelles, when yon taught the Duchess of Guise to dance the triolets : and I am afraid your aflfairs arc not in so flourishing a condition as they were the campaign after I had given you the company you mention." They were talking in this manner, when the Duke d' Arscot, followed by the gentlemen above mentioned, came up on full gallop. The Chevalier de Grammont was saluted by the whole company before he could say a word. Soon after arrived an immense num- ber of others of his acquaintance, with many people, out of curiosity, on both sides, who, seeing him upon the eminence, assembled together with the greatest eager- ness ; so that the two armies, without design, without truce, and without fraud, were going to join in conver- sation, if, l)y chance. Monsieur de Turenne had not per- ceived it at a distance. The sight surprised him : he hastened that way ; and the Marquis d'Humieres ac- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 95 quainted him with the arrival of the Chevalier de Gram- motit, who wished to speak to the sentry before he went to the head-quarters : he added, that he could not com- prehend how the devil he had managed to assemble both armies around him, for it was hardly a minute since he had left him. "Truly," said IMonsieur de Turenne, "he is a very extraordinary man ; but it is only reason- able that he should let us now have a little of his com- pany, since he has paid his first visit to the enemy." At these words he despatched an aide-de-camp, to recall the officers of his army, and to acquaint the Chevalier de Grammont with his impatience to see him. This order arrived at the same time, with one of the same nature, to the enemy's officers. The Prince de Conde, being informed of this peaceable interview, was not the least surprised at it, when he heard that it was occasioned by the arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont. He only gave Lussan orders to recall the officers, and to desire the Chevalier to meet him at the same place the next day ; which the Chevalier promised to do, provided IMonsieur de Turenne should approve of it, as he made no doubt he would. His reception in the king's army was equally agree- able as that which he had experienced from the enemy. IMonsieur de Turenne esteemed him no less for his frank- ness than for the poignancy of his wit : he took it very kindly that he was the only courtier who came to see him in a time so critical as the present : the questions which he asked him about the court were not so much for information, as to divert himself with his manner of relating their different apprehensions and alarms. The Chevalier de Grammont advised him to beat the enemy, if he did not choose to be answerable for an enterprise which he had undertaken without consulting the Car- dinal. jNIonsieur de Turenne promised him he woiild exert himself to the utmost to follow his advice, and assured him, that if he succeeded, he would make the 96 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. queen keep her word with him ; and conchided with saying, that he was not sorry the Prince de Coude had expressed a desire to see him. His measures were taken for an attack upon the lines : on this subject he dis- coursed in private with the Chevalier de Granimont, and concealed nothing from him except the time of execu- tion : but this was all to no purpose ; for the Chevalier had seen too nnich, not to judge, from his own knowl- edge, and the observations he had made, that from the situation of the army, the attack could be no longer de- ferred. He set out the next day for his rendezvous, attended by a trumpet, and found the Prince at the place which Monsieur de Lussan had described to him the evening before. As .soon as he alighted : "Is it po.ssible," said the Prince, embracing him, "that this can be the Cheva- lier de Grammont, and that I should see him in the contrary party?" "It is you, my lord, whom I .see there," replied the Chevalier, "and I refer it to your- self, whether it was the fault of the Chevalier de Gram- mont, or your own, that we now embrace different inter- ests." " I must confess," said the Prince, " that if there are some who have abandoned me like ba.se, ungrateful wretches, 3'ou have left me, as I left my.self, like a man of honor, who thinks him.self in the right : hut let us forget all cause of resentment, and tell nie what was your motive for coming here, yo\i, whom I thought at Peronne with the court?" "Must I tell you?" .said he: "why, faith then, I came to .save your life. I knew that you cannot help being in the midst of the enemy in a day of battle ; it is only necessary for your horse to be shot under you, and to be taken in arms, to meet with the same treatment from this Cardinal as your uncle Montmorency * did from the other. I come, *ITenn,', Duke of ^loiitmoreiicy, who was taken prisoner first Sep- tember, 1692, and had his bead struck ofT at Toulouse iu the mouth of November following. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 97 therefore, to hold a horse in readiness for you in case of a similar misfortune, that you may not lose your head." "It is not the first time," said the Prince, smiling, "that you have rendered me this service, though the being taken prisoner at that time could not have been so dangerous to me as now." From this conversation they passed to more entertain- ing subjects. The Prince asked him many questions concerning the court, the ladies, play, and about his amours ; and returning insensibly to the present situa- tion of affairs, the Chevalier having inquired after some officers of his acquaintance, who had remained with him, the Prince told him that if he chose he might go to the lines, where he would have an opportunity not only of seeing those whom he inquired after, but likewise the disposition of the quarters and entrenchments. To this he consented, and the Prince having shown him all the works and attended him back to their rendezvous, "Well, Chevalier," said he, "when do you think we shall see you again ? " " Faith," replied he, " you have used me so handsomely, that I shall conceal nothing from you. Hold yourself in readiness an hour before daybreak ; for, you may depend upon it, we shall attack you to-morrow morning. I would not have acquainted you with this, perhaps, had I been entrusted with the secret, but, nevertheless, in the present case 5'ou may believe me." "You are still the same man," said the Prince, again embracing him. The Chevalier returned to Monsieur de Turenne's camp towards night ; every preparation was then making for the attack of the lines, and it was no longer a secret among the troops. "Well, Monsieur le Chevalier, were they all very glad to see you ? ' ' said Monsieur de Turenne ; ' ' the Prince, no doubt, received you with the greatest kindness, and asked a great number of questions ? " " He has shown me all the civility imaginable," replied the Chevalier ; "and, to convince me he did not take me for a spy, he 7 98 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. led me round the lines and entrenchments, and showed me the preparations he had made for your reception." "And what is his opinion? " said the Marshal. " He is persuaded that > ou will attack him to-night, or to-mor- row by daybreak ; for you great captains," continued the Chevalier, "see through each other's designs in a wonderful manner." Monsieur de Turenne, with pleasure, received this commendation from a man who was not indiscriminately accustomed to bestow praise. He communicated to him the disposition of the attack ; and at the same time acquainted him that he was very happy that a man who had seen so many actions was to be present at this ; and that he esteemed it no small advantage to have the ben- efit of his advice, but as he believed that the remaining part of the night woidd be hardly sufficient for his re- pose, after having passed the former without any refresh- ment, he consigned him to the Marquis d'Huniieres, who provided him with a supper and a lodging. The next dav the lines of Arras were attacked, wherein Monsieur de Turenne, being victorious, added additional lustre to his former glory ; and the Prince de Conde, though vanquished, lost nothing of his former reputa- tion. There are so many accounts of this celebrated battle, that to mention it here would be altogether superfluous. The Chevalier de Grammont, who, as a volunteer, was permitted to go into every part, has given a better de- scription of it than any other person. Monsieur de Turenne reaped great advantage from that activity- which never forsook the Chevalier either in peace or war ; and that presence of mind which enabled him to carry orders, as coming from the general, so very apropos, that Monsieur de Turenne, otherwise very particular in such matters, thanked him, when the battle was over, in the presence of all his officers, and despatched him to court with the first news of his success. MEMOIRvS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 99 All that is generally necessary in these expeditions is to be accustomed to hard riding, and to be well provided with fresh horses, but he had a great many other ob- stacles to surmount. In the first place, the parties of the enemy were dispersed over all the country, and ob- structed his passage. Then he had to prepare against greedy and officious courtiers, who, on such occasions, post themselves in all the avenues, in order to cheat the poor courier out of his news. However, his ad- dress preserved him from the one, and deceived the others. He had taken eight or ten troopers, commanded by an officer of his acquaintance, to escort him half way to Bapaume, * being persuaded that the greatest danger would lie between the camp and the first stage. He had not proceeded a league before he was convinced of the truth of what he suspected, and turning to the officer, who followed him closely, ' ' If 3'ou 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 )-ou go, until you are out of all danger." "I doubt that," replied the Chevalier, "for those gentlemen there seem prepared to pay us a visit." " Don't you see," said the officer, " they are some of our own people who are graz- ing their horses ? " "No," said the Chevalier ; "but I see very well that they are some of the enemy's troop- ers." Upon which, observing to him that they were mounting, he ordered the horsemen that escorted him to prepare themselves to make a diversion, and he himself set off full speed towards Bapaume. He was mounted upon a very swift English horse ; * A fortified town in Artois, seated in a barren country, without rivers or springs, and having an old palace, which gave rise to the town, with a particular governor of its own, a royal and forest court. In 1641 the French took il from the Spaniards. 100 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. but having entangled himself in a hollow way where the ground was deep and miry, he soon had the troopers at his heels, who, stipposing him to be some officer of rank, would not be deceived, but continiied to pursue him, without paying any attention to the others. The best mounted of the party began to draw near him ; for the English horses, swift as the wind on even ground, pro- ceeded but very indifferently in bad roads ; the trooper presented his carbine, and cried out to him, at some distance, "Good quarter." The Chevalier de Gram- mont, who perceived that they gained upon him, and that whatever efforts his horse made in such heavy groiuid, he miist be overtaken at last, immediately quitted the road to Bapaume, and took a causeway to the left, which led quite a different way ; as soon as he had gained it, he drew up, as if to hear the proposal of the trooper, which afforded his horse an opportunity of recovering himself ; while his enemy, mistaking his intention, and thinking that he only waited to surrender, immediately exerted every effort, that he might take him before the rest of his companions, who were follow- ing, could arrive, and by this means almost killed his horse. One minute's reflection made the Chevalier consider what a disagreeable adventure it would be, thus coming from so glorious a victory, aud the dangers of a battle so warmly disputed, to be taken by a set of scoundrels who had not been in it, and, instead of being received in tri- umph, and embraced by a great queen for the important news with which he was charged, to see himself stripped by the vanquished. During this short meditation, the trooper who followed him was arrived within shot, and still presenting his carbine, offered him good quarter, but the Chevalier de Gramniont, to whom this offer, and the manner in which it was made, were equally displeasing, made a sign to him to lower his piece ; and perceiving his horse to be MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 101 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 Bapaiime he changed horses ; the commander of this place showed him the greatest respect, assuring liim that no person had yet passed ; that he would keep the secret, and that he would retain all that followed him, except the couriers of Monsieur de Turenne. He now had only to guard against those who would be watching for him about the environs of Peronne, to re- turn as soon as the}- saw him, and carry his news to court, without being acquainted with any of the partic- ulars. He knew very well that Marshal du Plessis, Marshal de \'illeroy, and Gaboury, had boasted of this to the Cardinal before his departure. Wherefore, to elude this snare, he hired two well-mounted horsemen at Bapaume, and as soon as he had got a league from that place, and after giving them each two louis d'ors, to secure their fidelity, he ordered them to ride on before, to appear very much terrified, and to tell all those who should ask them any questions, " that all was lost, that the Chevalier de Grammout had stopped at Bapaume, having no great inclination to be the messenger of ill news ; and that as for themselves, they had been pursued by the enemy's troopers, who were spread over the whole country since the defeat." Everything succeeded to his wish : the horsemen were intercepted by Gabour)-, whose eagerness had outstripped the two marshals ; but whatever questions were asked them, they acted their parts so well, that Peronne was already in consternation, and rumors of the defeat were whispered among the courtiers, when the Chevalier de Grammout arrived. Nothing so enhances the value of good news as when a false alarm of bad has preceded ; yet, though the Chevalier's was accompanied with this advantage, none 102 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. but their Majesties received it with that transport of joy it deserved. The queen kept her promise to him in the most fasci- nating manner : she embraced him before the whole court ; the king appeared no less delighted ; but the Cardinal, whether with the view of lessening the merit of an action which deserved a handsome reward, or whether it was from a return of that insolence which always accompanied him in prosperity, appeared at first not to pay any attention to what he said, and being after- wards informed that the lines had been forced, that the Spanish army was beaten, and that Arras was relieved : " Is the Prince de Conde taken?" said he. " No," re- plied the Chevalier de Grammont. "He is dead, then, I suppose?" said the Cardinal. "Not so, neither," answered the Chevalier. "Fine news indeed !" said the Cardinal, with an air of contempt ; and at these words he went into the queen's cabinet with their majesties. And happy it was for the Chevalier that he did so, for without doubt he would have given him some severe reply, * in resentment for those two fine questions, and the conclusion he had drawn from them. The court was filled with the Cardinal's spies : the Chevalier, as is usual on such an occasion, was sur- rounded by a crowd of courtiers and inquisitive people, and he was very glad to ease himself of some part of the load which laid heavy on his heart, within the hearing of the Cardinal's creatures, and which he would perhaps have told him to his face. "Faith, gentlemen," said he, with a sneer, "there is nothing like being zealous *This spirit seems not always to have attended him iu his transac- tions v,iih the Cardinal. On the occasion of the entrj- of the king in 1660, " Le Chevalier de Grammont, Rouville, Bellefonds, and some other courtiers, attended in the Cardinal's suite, a degree of flatterj- which astonished everybody who ktiew him. I was informed that the Chevalier wore a very rich orange-colored dress ou that occasion." Lettres de Maintenon, tome i., p. 32. MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 103 and eager in the service of kings and great princes : you have seen what a gracious reception his Majesty has given me ; you are likewise witnesses in what an oblig- ing manner the queen kept her promise with me ; but as for the Cardinal, he has received my news as if he gained no more by it than he did by the death of Peter Mazarin." * This was sufficient to terrify all those who were sin- cerely attached to him ; and the best established fortune would have been ruined at some period by a jest much less severe : for it was delivered in the presence of wit- nesses, who were only desirous of having an opportunity of representing it in its utmost malignancy, to make a merit of their vigilance with a powerful and absolute minister. Of this the Chevalier de Grammont was thoroughly convinced ; yet whatever detriment he fore- saw might arise from it, he could not help being much pleased with what he had said. The spies very faithfully discharged their duty : how- ever, the affair took a very different turn from what they expected. The next day, when the Chevalier de Gram- mont was present while their Majesties were at dinner, the Cardinal came in, and coming up to him, everybody making way for him out of respect : "Chevalier," said he, "the news which you have brought is very good, their Majesties are very well satisfied with it ; and to convince you it is more advantageous to me than the death of Peter Mazarin, if you will come and dine with me we will have some play together ; for the queen will give us something to play for, over and above her first promise." In this manner did the Chevalier de Grammont dare to provoke a powerful minister, and this was all the re- * Peter Mazarin was father to the Cardinal. He was a native of Palermo in Sicily, which place he left in order to settle at Rome, where he died in the year 1654. 104 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, seutment which the least vindictive of all statesmen expressed on the occasion. It was indeed very unusual for so young a man to reverence the authority of minis- ters no farther than as they were themselves respectable by their merit ; for this, his own breast, as well as the whole court, applauded him, and he enjoyed the satisfac- tion of being the only man who durst preserve the least shadow of libert}- in a general state of servitude ; but it was perhaps owing to the Cardinal's passing over this insult with impunity, that he afterwards drew iipon him- self some difficulties, by other rash expressions less for- tunate in the event. In the meantime the court returned : the Cardinal, who was sensible that he could no longer keep his mas- ter in a state of tutelage, being himself worn out with cares and sickness, and having amassed treasures he knew not what to do with, and being sufficiently loaded with the weight of public odium, he turned all his thoughts towards terminating, in a manner the most advantageous for France, a ministry which had so cru- ell}' 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 Gramniont experienced for a long time a variety of fortune in love and gaming : he was es- teemed by the courtiers, beloved hy beauties whom he neglected, and a dangerous favorite of those whom he admired; more successful in play than in his amours; but the one indemnifying him for want of success in the other, he was always full of life and spirits; and in all transactions of importance, always a man of honor. It is a pity that we must be forced here to interrupt the course of his history, by an interval of some years, as has been already done at the commencement of these me- moirs. In a life where the most minute circumstances are always singular and diverting, we can meet with no chasm which does not afford regret; but whether he did MEMOIR.S OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 105 not think them worthy of holding a place among his other adventnres, or that he has only preserved a con- fused idea of them, we must pass to the parts of these fragments which are better ascertained, that we may arrive at the subject of his journey to England. The peace of the Pyrenees,* the king's marriage, t the return of the Prince de Conde,J and the death of the Car- dinal, gave a new face to the state. The eyes of the whole nation were fixed tipon Louis XIV., who, for nobleness of mien, and gracefulness of person, had no equal; but it was not then known that he was possessed of those superior abilities, which, filling his subjects with admiration, in the end made him so formidable to Europe. Love and ambition, the invisible springs of the intrigues and cabals of all courts, attentively observed his first steps : pleasure promised herself an absolute em- pire over a prince who had been kept in ignorance of the necessary rules of government, and ambition had no hopes of reigning in the court except in the minds of those who were able to dispute the management of affairs; when men were surprised to see the king on a sudden display such brilliant abilities, which prudence, in some measure necessar)-, had so long obliged him to conceal. An application, inimical to the pleasures which gener- erally attract that age, and which unlimited power very seldom refuses, attached him solely to the cares of gov- ernment: all admired this wonderful change, but all did not find their account in it: the great lost their conse- quence before an absolute master, and the courtiers ap- proached with reverential awe the sole object of their respects and the sole master of their fortunes: those who * This treaty was concluded yth November, 1659. t Louis XIV. with Maria Theresa of Austria. She was horn 20th September, 1638, married ist June, 1660, and entered Paris 26th August following. She died at Versailles, 30th July, 16S3, and was buried at St. Denis. t iitb April. — See De Retz's Memoirs, vol. iii., p. 119. 106 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. had coiicUicted themselves like petty tyrants in the prov- inces, and on the frontiers, were now no more than gov- ernors : favors, according to the king's pleasure, were sometimes conferred on merit, and sometimes for services done the state; but to importune, or to menace the court, was no longer the method to obtain them. The Chevalier de Grammont regarded his master's at- tention to the affairs of state as a prodigy: he could not conceive how he could submit at his age to the rules he prescribed himself, or that he should give up so many hours of pleasure, to devote them to the tiresome duties and laborious functions of government ; but he blessed the Lord that henceforward no more homage was to be paid, no more court to be made, but to him alone, to whom they were justly due. Disdaining as he did the servile adoration usually paid to a minister, he could never crouch before the power of the two Cardinals who succeeded each other: he neither worshipped the arbitrary power of the one, nor gave his approbation to the artifices of the other ; he had never received anything from Car- dinal Richelieu but an abbey, which, on account of his rank, could not be refused him ; and he never acquired anything from Mazarin but what he won of him at play. By many years experience under an able general he had acquired a talent for war; but this during a general peace was of no further service to him. He therefore thought that, in the midst of a court flourishing in beauties and abomiding in wealth, he could not employ himself better than in endeavoring to gain the good opin- ion of his master, in making the best x:se of those advan- tages which nature had given him for play, and in putting in practice new stratagems in love. He succeeded ver}' well in the first two of these proj- ects, and as he had from that time laid it down as the rule of his conduct to attach himself solely to the king in all his views of preferment, to have no regard for favor unless when it was supiwrted by merit, to make himself MK.MOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 107 beloved by the courtiers and feared by the minister, to dare to undertake anything in order to do good, and to engage in nothing at the expense of innocence, he soon became one in all the king's parties of pleasure, without gaining the ill will of the courtiers. In play he was suc- cessful, in love unfortunate; or, to speak more properly, his restlessness and jealousy overcame his natural pru- dence, in a situation wherein he had most occasion for it. La Motte Agencoiirt was one of the maids of honor to the queen dowager, and, though no sparkling beauty, she had drawn away lovers from the celebrated INIene- ville. * It was sufficient in those days for the king to cast his eye upon a young lady of the court to inspire her with hopes, and often with 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 that she was honored with the king's attention, he was of opinion that she was likewise deserving of his. * These two ladies at this period seem to have made a distiiifjuislied figure in the annals of gallantry. One of their contemporaries mentions them in these terms : "In this case, perhaps, I can give a better account than most people ; as, for instance, they had raised a report, when the queen-mother expelled Mademoiselle de la Motte Agencourt, that it was on his score, when I am assured, upon very good grounds, that it was for entertaining the Marquis de Richelieu against her majesty's express command. This lady, who was one of her maids of honor, was a person whom I was particularly acquainted with ; and that so nuicli, as I was supposed to have a passion for her : she was counted one of the finest women of the court, and therefore I was not at all displeased to have it thought so ; for except Mademoiselle de Meneville, (who had her admirers,) there was none that could pretend to dispute it." Memoirs of the Comte de Rochcfort, 1696, p. 210. See also Auquetil, Louis XVI. sa Cour et le Regent, tome i., p. 46. 108 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Having attached himself to her, he soon became very tronblesome, without con\-incing her he was much in love. She grew weary of his persecutions, but he would not desist, neither on account of her ill-treat- ment nor of her threats. This conduct of liis at first made no great noise, because she was in hopes that he would change his behavior; but finding him rashly per- sist in it, she complained of him : and then it was that he perceived that if love renders all conditions equal, it is not so between rivals. He was banished the court, and not finding any place in France which could console him for what he most regretted — the presence and sight of his prince — after having made some slight reflections upon his disgrace, and bestowed a few imprecations against her who was the cause of it, he at last formed the resolution of visiting England. MRS. HVDB. CHAPTER VI. Curiosity to see a man equally famous for his crimes and his elevation, had once before induced the Chevalier de Gramniout to visit England. Reasons of state assume great privileges. Whatever appears advantageous is law- ful, and everything that is necessary is honorable in pol- itics. While the King of England sought the protection of Spain in the Low Countries, and that of the States- General in Holland, other powers sent splendid embassies to Cromwell. This man, whose ambition had opened him a way to sovereign power by the greatest crimes, maintained him- self in it by accomplishments which .seemed to render him worthy of it by their lustre. The nation, of all Europe the least submissive, patiently bore a yoke which did not even leave her the shadow of that liberty of which .she is .so jealous ; and Cromwell, master of the Commonwealth, under the title of Protector, feared at home, but yet more dreaded abroad, was at his highest pitch of glory when he was seen by the Chevalier de Grammont; but the Chevalier did not see any appearance of a court. One part of the nobility proscribed, the other removed from employments; an affectation of purity of manners, instead of the lu.xury which tlie pomp of (109) 110 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. courts displays, all taken together, presented nothing but sad and serious objects in the finest city in the world; and therefore the Chevalier acquired nothing by this voyage but the idea of some merit in a profligate man, and the admiration of some concealed beauties he had found means to discover. 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 engage- ments he in the end contracted in England lessened the regret he had in leaving France. This was a desirable retreat for an exile of his dispo- sition. Everything flattered his taste, and if the adven- tures he had in this country were not the most consider- * Bishop Burnet confirms this account. " With the restoration of the king," says he, "a spirit of extravagant joy spread over the nation, that brought on with it the throwing off the very professions of virtue and piety. All ended in entertainments and drunkenness which over- run the three kingdoms to such a degree, that it very much corrupted all their morals. Under the color of drinking the king's health, there were great disorders, and nuich riot cverj wherc : and the pretences of religion, both in those of the hypocritical sort, atid of the more hone.st, but no less pernicious enthusiasts, gave great advantages, as well as they furnislied much matter to the profane mockers of true piet)'." — History of his Oivn Times, vol. i., p. 127, Svo. edit. Voltaire says, King Charles "was received at Dover by twenty thousand of his subjects, who fell upon their knees before him ; and I have been told by some old men who were of this number, that hardly any of those who were present could refrain from tears." Age of Louis XIV., chap. 5. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. Ill able, they were at least the most agreeable of his life. But before we relate them it will not be improper to give some account of the English court as it was at that period. The necessity of affairs had exposed Charles II. from his earliest youth to the toils and perils of a bloody war. The fate of the king, his father, had left him for inheritance nothing but his misfortunes and disgraces. They overtook him everywhere ; but it was not until he had struggled with his ill-fortune to the last ex- treniit)- that he submitted to the decrees of Providence. All those who were either great on account of their birth or their loyalty had followed him into exile ; and all the young persons of the greatest distinction having afterwards joined him, composed a court worthy of a better fate. Plenty and prosperity, which are thought to tend only to corrupt manners, found nothing to spoil in an indi- gent and wandering court. Necessity, on the contrary, which produces a thousand advantages whether we will or no, served them for education; and nothing was to be seen among them but an emulation in glory, politeness, and virtue. With this little court, in such high esteem for merit, the King of England returned two years prior to the period we mention, to ascend a throne which, to all ap- pearances, he was to fill as worthily as the most glorious of his predecessors. The magnificence displayed on this occasion was renewed at his coronation. * The death of the Duke of Gloucester,! and of the * There is some reason to believe that the Count de Grainniont, whose circumstances at his first arrival at the court of Britain were inferior to his rank, endeavored to distin<(uish himself by his literary- acquiremeiits. A scarce little book, in Latin and French, upon the coronation, has been ascribed to him with some probabilit}'. t This event took place September 3d, 1660. He died of the small- pox. "Though mankind," as Mr. Macpherson obser\'es, "are apt to 112 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Princess Royal,* wliicli followed soon after, had inter- rupted the course of this splendor by a tedious mourning which they quitted at last to prepare for the reception of the Infanta of Portugal, t 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 understanding and good-nature of Charles to the industry and appli- cation of James. The facility of the first, was in him a judicious mod- eration. The obstinacy of the latter, was in Gloucester a manly firmness of mind. Attached to the religion, and a friend to the constitution of his countrj-, he was most regretted, when his familj- regarded these the least. The vulgar, who crowd with eminent virtues and great actions the years which fate denies to their favorites, foresaw future misfortunes in his death ; and even the judicious supposed that the measures of Charles might have derived solidity from his judgment and promising parts. The king lamented his death with all the vehemence of an af- fectionate sorrow." The Duke of York was much affected -uith the loss of a brother, whose high merit he much admired. " He was a prince," says James, " of the greatest hopes, undaunted courage, admirable parts, and a clear understanding." He had a particular talent at languages. Besides the Latin, he was master of the French, the Spanish, the Ital- ian, and Low Dutch. He was, in short, possessed of all the natural qualities, as well as acquired accomplishments, necessary to make a great prince. MacphersoiVs History of Great Britain, ch. i. Bishop Burnet's character of this young prince is also very favorable. See History of his OzLni Times, vol. i., p. 238. * Mary, eldest daughter of Charles I., bom November 4th, 1626, married to the Prince of Orange, 2d May, 1641, who died 27th October, 1650. She arrived in England, .September 23d, and died of the small- pox, December 24th, 1660, — according to Bishop Burnet, not nmch la- mented. "She had lived," .says the author, "in her widowhood for some years with great reputation, kept a decent court, and supported her brothers verj- liberally; and lived witliin bounds. But her mother, who had the art of making herself believe anything she had a mind to, upon a conversation with the queen -mother of France, fancied the King of F'rance might l)e inclined to marry her. So she wrote to her to come to Paris. In order to that, slit made an equipage far above what she could support. So .she ran herself into debt, sold all her jeweks, and some estates that were in her power as her son's guardian ; and was not only disappointed of that vain expectation, but fell into some misfortunes that lessened the reputation she had formerly lived in." History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 238. She was mother of William III. t "The Infanta of Portugal landed in May (1662) at Portsmouth. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT 113 It was ill the height of the rejoicings they were making for this new queen, in all the splendor of a brilliant court, that the Chevalier de Graniniont arrived to contribute to its magnificence and diversions. Accustomed as he was to the grandeur of the court of France, he was surprised at the politeness and splendor of the court of England. The king was in- ferior to none,* either in shape or air ; his wit was pleasant ; his disposition easy and affable ; his soul, susceptible of opposite impressions, was compassionate to the unhapp)', inflexible to the wicked, and tender even to excess ; he showed great abilities in urgent affairs, but was incapable of application to any that were not so : his heart was often the dupe, but oftener the slave, of his engagements. The character of the Duke of York f was entirely The king went thither, and was married privately 1)}' Lord Aubigny, a secular priest, and ahnoner to the queen, according to the rites of Rome, in the queen's chamber ; none present but the Portuguese ambassador, three more Portuguese of quality, and two or three Portuguese women. What made this necessary was, that the Earl of Sandwich did not marry her hy proxy, as usual, before she came away. How this happened, the duke knows not, nor did the chancellor know of this private mar- riage. The queen would not be bedded, till pronounced man and wife b}- Sheldon, bishop of London." — Extract 2, from King James IPs Journal. — Jl/arp/tersoii's Stale Papers, vol. i. In the same collection is a curious letter from the king to Lord Clarendon, giving his opinion of the queen after having seen her. * Charles 11. was born 29th I\Ia)', 1630, and died 6tli P'ebruary, 16S4-5. His character is very amply detailed and accuratel}' depicted by tleorge Sa\dlle, Marquis of Halifax, in a volume published by his grand- daughter, the Countess of Burlington, 8vo., 1750. See also Burnet, Clarendon, and Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham. t James, Duke of York, afterwards King James II. He was born I5tli October, 1633 ; succeeded his brother 6th February, 1684-5 ; abdi- cated the crown in 1688; and died 6th September, 1701. Bishop Bur- net's character of him appears not very far from the truth. "He was," says this writer, " very brave in his youth ; and so much magnified by Monsieur Turenne, that till his marriage lessened him, he really clouded the king, and passed for the su])erior genius. He was naturally can- did and sincere, and a firm friend, till affairs and his religion wore out 114 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. different : 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 observer of the rules of duty and the laws of justice ; he was accounted a faithful friend, and an implacable enemy. His morality and justice, struggling for some time with prejudice, had at last triumphed, by his acknowledging for his wife Miss Hyde,* maid of honor to the Princess all his first principles and inclinations. He had a great desire to un- derstand afTairs : and in order to that he kept a constant journal of all that passed, of which he showed nie a great deal. The Duke of Buck- ingham gave me once a short but severe character of the two brothers. It was the more severe, because it was true : the king (he said) could see things if he would : and the duke would see things if he could. He had no true judgment, and was soon determined by those whom he trusted : but he was obstinate against all other advices. He was bred with high notions of kingly authority, and laid it down for a maxim, tliat all who opposed the king were rebels in their hearts. He was perpetually in one amour or other, without being very nice in his choice : upon which the king once said, be believed his brother had his mistresses given him by his priests for penance. He was naturally eager and revengeful : and was against the taking off any that set up in an opposition to the measures of the court, and who by that means grew popular in the house of commons. He was for rougher methods. He continued many years dissembling his religion, and seemed zealous for the church of England, but it was chiefly on de.sign 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 /"loo.ooo a-year allowed him. He was made high admiral, and he came to understand all the concerns of the sea ver\- par- ticularl)-." * Miss Anne Hj de, eldest daughter of Lord Chancellor Clarendon. King James mentions this marriage in these terms : " The king at first refused the Duke of York's marriage with Miss Hyde. Many of the duke's friends and servants opposed it. The king at last consented, and the Duke of York privately married her, and soon after owned the marriage. Her want of birth was made up by endowments ; and her carriage afterwards became her acquired dignit}-." Again. "When his sister, the princess royal, came to Paris to see the queen-mother, the Duke of York fell in love with Mrs. Anne Hj-de, one of her maids of honor. Besides her person, she had all the qualities proper to in- flame a heart less apt to take fire than his ; which she managed so well MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 115 Royal, whom he had secretly married in Holland. Her father,* from that time prime minister of England, sup- ported by this new interest, soon rose to the head of affairs, and had almost ruined them : not that he wanted capacity, but he was too self-sufficient. The Duke of Ormondf possessed the confidence and as to bring his passion to such an height, that, between the time he first saw her and the winter before the king's restoration, he resolved to marry none but her ; and promised her to do it : and though, at first, when the duke asked the king his brother for his leave, he refused, and dissuaded him from it, j-et at last he opposed it no more ; and ilie duke married her privately, owned it some time after, and was ever after a true friend to the chancellor for several years." — Macphcrson'' s State Papers, vol. i. *Ivdward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, "for his comprehensive knowl- edge of mankind, styled the chancellor of human nature. His char- acter, at this distance of time, may and ought to be impartially con- sidered. Designing or blinded contemporaries heaped the most unjust abuse upon him. The subsequent age, when the partisans of preroga- tive were at least the loudest, if not the most numerous, smit with a work that defied their niartj-r, have been unbounded in their en- comium." — Catalogue of Xoble Authors, vol. ii., p. i8. Lord Orford, who professes to steer a middle course, and separate his great virtues as a man from his faults as an historian, acknowledges that he pos- sessed almost every virtue of a minister which could make his character venerable. He died in exile, in the year 1674. t James Butler, Duke of Ormond, born 19th October, 1610, and died 2ist Jul}', 1688. Lord Clarendon, in the Continuation of his Life, ob- serves, that "he frankly engaged his person and his fortune in the king's service, from the first hour of the troubles, and pursued it with courage and constancy, that when the king was murdered, and he deserted by the Irish, contrary to the articles of peace which they had made with him, and when he could make no longer defence, he refused all the conditions which Cromwell offered — who would have given him his vast estate if he would have been contented to live quietlj' in some of his own houses, without further concerning himself in the quarrel — and transported himself, without so nmch as accepting a pass from his autliorit}-, 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 nmch more credit and esteem with the king than any other man." — Continuation of the Life of Lord Clarendon, p. 4, fol. edit. Bishop Burnet says of him : ' He was a man every way fitted for a court ; of a graceful appearance, a lively wit, and a cheerful temper ; a man of 116 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. esteem of his master : the greatness of his services, the splendor of his merit and his birth, and the fortnne he had abandoned in adhering to the fate of his prince, rendered him worth}- of it : nor durst the courtiers even murmur at seeing him grand steward of the househokl, first lord of the bed-chamber, and lord-lieutenant of Ire- land. He exactly resembled the IMarshal de Grammont, in the turn of his wit and the nobleness of his manners, and like him was the honor of his master's court. The Duke of Buckingham * and the Earl of St. Al- bans t were the same in England as they appeared in great expence ; 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. Rut the whole Irish nation did still pretend, that though they had broke the agreement first, yet he, or rather the king, in whose name he had treated with them, was bound to perform all the articles of the treaty. He had miscarried so in the siege of Dublin, that it very much lessened the opinion of his military con- duct. Yet his constant attendance on his master, his easiness to him, and his great suffering for him, raised him to be lord-steward of the household, and lord-lieutenant of Ireland. He was firm to the Prot- estant religion, and so far firm to the laws, that he always gave good advices ; but when bad ones were followed, he was not for com- plaining too much of them."— ///i/fry of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 230. * "The Duke of Buckingham is again one hundred and forty thou- sand pounds in debt ; and by this prorogation his creditors have time to tear all his lands to pieces^" — Attdrew MarveWs 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-chaml)erlain of his majesty's household. He died January 2, 16S3. Sir John Reresby as- serts that Lord St. Albans was married to Queen Henrietta. "The abbess of an English college in Paris, whither the queen used to retire, would tell me," says Sir John, "that Lord Jermyn, since St. Albans, had the queen greatly in awe of him ; and indeed it was obvious that he had great interest with her concerns ; but that he was married to her, or had children by her, as .some have reported, I did not then be- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 117 France : the one full of wit and vivacity, dissipated, without splendor, an immense estate upon which he had just entered : the other, a man of no great genius, had raised himself a considerable fortune from nothing, and by losing at pla}-, and keeping a great table, made it appear greater than it was. Sir George Berkeley,* afterwards Earl of Falmouth, was the confidant and favorite of the king : he com- manded the Duke of York's regiment of guards, and governed the duke himself He had nothing very re- markable either in his wit or his person ; but his senti- ments were worthy of the fortune which awaited him, when, on the very point of his elevation, he was killed at sea. Never did disinterestedness so perfectly char- acterise the greatness of the soul : he had no views but what tended to the glory of his master : his credit was never employed but in advising him to reward servdces, or to confer favors on merit : so polished in conversa- tion, that the greater his power, the greater was his hu- mility ; and so sincere in all his proceedings, that he would never have been taken for a courtier. lieve, though the thing was certainly so." — Memoirs, p. 4. Madame Baviere, iu her letter, says: "Charles the First's \vddow made a clan- destine marriage with her chevalier d' honneur, Lord St. Albans, who treated her extremely ill, so that, whilst she had not a fagot to warm herself, he had in his apartment a good fire and a sumptuous table. He never gave the queen a kind word, and when she spoke to him he used to saj% Que me veut cctte femiiie f " Hamilton hints at his selfish- ness a little lower. * This Sir George Berkeley, as he is here improperly called, was Charles Berkley, second son of Sir Berkley, of Bruton, in Glou- cestershire, and was the principal favorite and companion of the Duke of York in all his campaigns. He was created Baron Berkley of Rath- down, and Viscount Fitzhardiug of Ireland, and Baron Bottetort and Earl of Falmouth in England, 17th March, 1664. He had the address to secure himself in the affections 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 tlie king) had ever observed any \-irtue or quality, which they did not wish their best friends without." 118 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. The Duke of Ormond's sons and his nephews had been in the king's court during his exile, and were far from diminishing its lustre after his return. The Earl of Arran * had a singular address in all kinds of exercises, played well at tennis and on the guitar, and was pretty successful in gallantry : his elder brother, the Earl of Ossory, f was not so lively, but of the most liberal senti- ments, and of great probity. The elder of the Hamiltons, their cousin, was the man who of all the court dressed best : he was well made in his person, and possessed those happy talents which lead to fortune, and procure success in love : he was a most assiduous courtier, had the most lively wit, the most polished manners, and the most punctual at- tention to his master imaginable : no person danced better, nor was any one a more general lover : a merit of some account in a court entirely devoted to love and gallantry. It is not at all surprising, that with these * Richard Butler, Earl of Arran, fifth son of James Butler, the first Duke of Onnond. He was born 15th July, 1639, and educated with great care, being taught everything suitable to his birth, and the great affection his parents had for him. t Thomas, Earl of Ossory, eldest son of the first, and father of the last Duke of Ormond, was born at Kilkenny, 8th July, 1634. At the age of twenty-one years he had so much distinguished himself that Sir Robert Southwell then drew the following character of him : " He is a young man with a very handsome face ; a good head of hair ; well set ; very good natured ; rides the great horse very well ; is a very good tennis-player, fencer and dancer ; understands music, and plays on the guitar and lute ; speaks French elegantly ; reads Italian fluently ; is a good historian ; and so well versed in romances that if a gallery be full of pictures and hangings he will tell the stories of all that are there described. He shuts up his door at eight o'clock in the evening and studies till midnight : he is temperate, courteous, and excellent in all his behavior." His death was occasioned by a fever, 30th July, 1680, to the grief of his family and the public. I^ord Ossory married in 1659 Eniile de Nassau, eldest daughter of Louis de Nassau, Lord Bever- waert, in Holland, the acknowledged but not legitimate son of Maurice, Prince of Orange. A sister of this lady married Lord Arlington : see note to Lord Arlington, injra. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 119 qualities he succeeded my Lord Falmouth in the King's favor ; but it is very extraordinary that he should have experienced the same destin}-, as if this sort of war had been declared against merit only, and as if this sort of combat was fatal to none but such as had certain hopes of a splendid fortune. This, however, did not happen till some years afterwards. The beau Sydney, * less dangerous than he appeared to be, had not sufficient vivacity to support the im- pression which his figure made ; but little Jermyn was on all sides successful in his intrigues. The old Earl of St. Albans, his iincle, had for a long time adopted him, though the youngest of all his nephews. It is well known what a table the good man kept at Paris, while the King, his master, was starving at Brussels, and the Queen Dowager, his mistress, f lived not over well in France. * Robert Sydney, third son of the Earl of Leicester, and brother of the famous Algernon Sydney, who was beheaded. t To what a miserable state the queen was reduced may be seen in the following extract from De Retz: "Four or five days before the king removed from Paris, I went to visit the Queen of England, whom I found in her daughter's chamber, who hath been since Duchess of Orleans. At my coming in she said : ' You see I am come to keep Henrietta compau}-. The poor child could not rise to-day for want of a fire.' The truth is, that the cardinal for six months together had not ordered her an\- money towards her pension ; that no tradespeople would trust her for anything ; and that there was not at her lodgings in the Louvre one single billet. You will do me the justice to suppose that the Princess of England did not keep her bed the next day for want of a fagot ; but it was not this which the Princess of Condd 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. Posteritj^ will hardly believe that a Princess of England, grand-daughter of Henry the Great, had wanted a fagot, in the month of January, to get out of bed in the Louvre, and in the eyes of a French court. We read in histories, with horror, of baseness less monstrous than this ; and the little concern I have met with about it in most people's minds has obliged me to make, I believe, a thousand times. 120 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Jermyn,* supported by his uncle's wealth, found it no difficult matter to make a considerable figure upon, his arrival at the court of the Princess of Orange : the poor courtiers of the king her brother could not vie with him in point of equipage and magnificence ; and these two articles often produce as much success in love as real merit : there is no necessity for any other ex- ample than the present ; for though Jermyn was brave, and certainly a gentleman, yet he had neither brilliant actions nor distinguished rank to set him off ; and as for his figure, there was nothing advantageous in it. He was little : his head was large and his legs small ; his features were not disagreeable, but he was affected in his carriage and behavior. All his wit consisted in ex- pressions learnt by rote, which he occasionally em- ployed either in raillery or in love. This was the this reflection : that examples of times past move men beyond compari- son more than those of their own times. We accustom ourselves to what we see ; and I have sometimes told you, that I doubted whether Caligula's horse being made a consul would have surprised us so much as we imagine." — Memoirs, vol. i., p. 261. As for the relative situation of the king and Lord Jermyn (afterwards St. Albans), Lord Clarendon says, that the " Marquis of Ormoud was compelled to put himself in prison, with other gentlemen, at a pistole a week for his diet, and to walk the streets a-foot, which was no honorable custom in Paris, whilst the Lord Jermyn kept an excellent table for those who courted him, and had a coach of his own, and all other accommodations incident to the most full fortune : and if the king had the most urgent occasion for the use of but twenty pistoles, as sometimes he had, he could not find credit to borrow it, which he often had experiment of." — History of the Rebellion, vol. iii., p. 2. * Henry Jermyn, youngest son of Thomas, elder brother of the Earl of St. Albans. He was created Baron Dover in 1685, and died without children, at Cheveley, in Cambridgeshire, April 6, 1708. His corpse was carried to Bruges, in Flanders, and buried in the monastery of the Carmelites there. St. Evremond, who visited Mr. Jermyn at Cheveley, says, "we went thither, and were very kindly received by a person who, though he has taken his leave of the court, has carried the ci- vility and good taste of it into the country." — St. Evremond' s Works, vol. ii., p. 223. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 121 whole foundation of the merit of a man so formidable in amours. The Princess Royal was the first who was taken with him : * Miss Hyde seemed to be following the steps of her mistress : this immediately brought him into credit, and his reputation was established in England before his arrival. Prepossession in the minds of women is sufficient to find access to their hearts ; Jennyn found them in dispositions so favorable for him, that he had nothing to do but to speak. It was in vain they perceived that a reputation so lightly established was still more weakly sustained : the prejudice remained : the Countess of Castlemaine,t a * It was suspected of this princess to have had a similar engagement with the Duke of Buckingham as the queen with Jennyn, and that was the cause she would not see the Duke on his second voyage to Hol- land, in the year 1652. t This lady, who makes so distinguished a figure in the annals of infamj-, was Barbara, daughter and heir of William Villiers, I\ p. 385, 390. * Queen Henrietta Maria arrived at Whitehall, 2d November, 1660, after nineteen years absence. She was received with acclamations ; and bonfires were lighted on the occasion, both in London and West- minster. She returned to France with her daughter, the Princess Hen- rietta, 2d Januar}', 1660-61. She arrived again at Greenwich, 28th July, 1662, and continued to keep her court in Kugland until Jul}-, 1665, when she embarked foi France, " and took so many things with her,' saj-s 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." — Conlinuatiou of Ciarendon 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 qual- ities of a good wife, of a good mother, and a good Christian." — Mac- pherson's Original Papers, vol. i. 126 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. king's restoration having drawn a great number of foreigners from all countries to the court, the French were rather in disgrace ; for, instead of any persons of distinction having appeared among the first who came over, they had only seen some insignificant puppies, each striving to outdo the other in folly and extravagance, despising everything which was not like themselves, and thinking they introduced the bcl air^ by treating the English as strangers in their own coinitry. The Chevalier de Grammont, on the contrary, was familiar with everybody : he gave in to their customs, eat of everything, and easily habituated himself to their manner of living, which he looked upon as neither vul- gar nor barbarous ; and as he showed a natural com- plaisance, instead of the impertinent affectation of the others, all the nation was charmed with a man who agreeably indemnified them for what they had suffered from the folly of the former. He first of all made his court to the king, and was of all his parties of pleasure : he played high, and lost but seldom : he found so little difference in the manners and conversation of those with whom he chiefly associated, that he could scarcely believe he was out of his own country. Everything which could agreeably engage a man of his disposition presented itself to his different humors, as if the pleasures of the court of France had quitted it to accompany him in his exile. He was every day engaged for some entertainment ; and those who wished to regale him in their turn were obliged to take their measures in time, and to invite him eight or ten days beforehand. These importimate civil- ities became tiresome in tlie long run ; bixt as they seemed indispensable to a man of his disposition, and as they were the most genteel people of the court who loaded him with them, he submitted with a good grace ; but always reserved to himself the liberty of supping at home. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 127 His Slipper hour depended 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 at- tendants, but understood cheating still better. The company, at these little entertainments, was not numerous, but select : the first people of the court were commonly of the party ; but the man, who of all others suited him best on these occasions, never failed to attend : that was the celebrated Saint Evremond, who with great exactness, but too great freedom, had written the history of the treaty of the Pyrenees : an exile like himself, though for very different reasons. Happily for them both, fortune had, some time before the arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont, brought Saint Evremond * to England, after he had had leisure to re- pent in Holland of the beauties of that famous satire. * Charles de St. Denis, Seigneur de Saint Evremond, was born at St. Denis le Guast, in Lower Normandy, on the ist of April, 1613. He was educated at Paris, with a view to the profession of the law ; but he early quitted that pursint, and went into the army, where he signalized himself on several occasions. At the time of the Pyrenean treaty, he wrote a letter censuring the conduct of Cardinal Mazarin, which occa- sioned his being banished France. He first took refuge in Holland ; but, in 1662, he removed into England, where he continued, with a short inter\-al, 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 presers'e IIAIJ,, CHAPTER VII. The Chevalier de Grammont, never satisfied in his amours, was fortunate without being beloved, and be- came jealous without having an attachment. Mrs. ]\Iiddleton, as we have said, was going to experi- ence what methods he could invent to torment, after having experienced his powers of pleasing. He went in .search of her to the queen's drawing-room, where there was a ball ; there she was ; but fortunately for her. Miss Hamilton was there likewise. It had so happened, that of all the beautiful women at court, this was the lady whom he had least seen, and whom he had heard most commended ; this, therefore, was the first time that he had a close view of her, and he soon found that he had seen nothing at court before this instant; he asked her some questions, to which she replied ; as long as she was dancing, his eyes were fixed upon her ; and from this time he no longer resented Mrs. Middleton's conduct. Miss Hamilton was at the happy age when the charms of the fair sex begin to bloom ; she had the finest shape, the loveliest neck, and most beautiful arms in the world; she was majestic and graceful in all her movements; and she was the original after which all the ladies copied (141) 142 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. in their taste and air of dress. Her forehead was open, white, and smooth ; her hair was well set, and fell with ease into that natural order which it is so difiicult to imi- tate. Her complexion was possessed of a certain fresh- ness, not to be equalled by borrowed colors : her e} es were not large, but they were lively, and capable of ex- pressing whatever she pleased : her mouth was full of graces, and her contour uncommonly perfect : nor was her nose, which was small, delicate, and turned up, the least ornament of so lovely a face. In fine, her air, her carriage, and the numberless graces dispersed over her whole person, made the Chevalier de Grammont not doubt but that she was possessed of every other qualifi- cation. Her mind was a proper companion for such a form: she did not endeavor to shine in conversation by those sprightly sallies which only puzzle ; and with still greater care she avoided that affected solemnity in her discourse, which produces stupidity ; but, without any eagerness to talk, she just said what she ought, and no more. She had an admirable discernment in distin- guishing between solid and false wit; and far from mak- ing an ostentatious display of her abilities, she was reserved, though very just in her decisions : her senti- ments were always noble, and even lofty to the highest extent when there was occasion ; nevertheless, she was less prepossessed with her own merit than is usually the case with those who have so much. Formed, as we have described, she could not fail of commanding love; but so far was she from courting it, that she was scrupulously nice with respect to those whose merit might entitle them to form any pretensions to her. The more the Chevalier de Grammont was convinced of these truths, the more did he endeavor to please and engage her in his turn ; his entertaining wit, his con- versation, lively, easy, and alwa}'S distingiiished by nov- elty, constantly gained him attention ; but he was much embarrassed to find that presents, which so easily made MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 143 their way in his fonncr method of courtship, were no lonj^er 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 ; hut after the disgrace of IVIrs. IVIiddleton, and the adventure of INIiss Wannestre, Mr. Termes was only employed in bringing his master's clothes from Paris, and he did not always acquit himself with the greatest fidelity in that employment, as will appear hereafter. The queen was a woman of sense, and used all her en- deavors to please the king, by that kind, obliging be- havior which her 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 mas- querade, where those, whom she appointed to dance, had to represent different nations ; she allowed some time for preparation, during which we may suppose the tailors, the mantua-makers, and embroiderers, were not idle : nor were the beauties, who were to be there, less anxiously employed ; however. Miss Hamilton foinid time enough to invent two or three little tricks, in a conjuncture so favorable, for turning into ridicule the vain fools of the court. There were two who were very eminently such : the one was Lady Muskerry, * who had married her * Lady Margaret, only child of Ulick, fifth Earl of Clanricade, by Lady Anne Conipton, daughter of William, Earl of Northampton. She was three times married : — i. To Charles, Lord Viscount Muskerry, who lost his life in the great sea-fight with the Dutch, 3d June, 1665. 2. In 1676, to Robert Villiers, called Viscount Purbeck, who died in 1685. 3. To Robert Fielding, Esq. >She died in August, 1698. Lord Orford, by mistake, calls her Elizabeth, daughter of the Earl of Kil- dare. — See Note on vol. ii., p. 210. 144 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. cousiu-german ; and the other a maid of honor to the Dnchess, called Blague.* The first, whose husband most assuredly never mar- ried her for beaiity, was made like the generality of rich heiresses, to whom just nature seems sparing of her gifts, in proportion as they are loaded with those of for- tune : she had the shape of a woman big with child, without being so ; but had a very good reason for limp- ing ; for, of two legs uncommonly short, one was much shorter than the other. A face suitable to this descrip- tion gave the finishing stroke to this disagreeable figure. Miss Blague was another species of ridicule : her shape was neither good nor bad : her countenance bore the ap- pearance of the greatest insipidity, and her complexion was the same all over ; with two little hollow eyes, adorned with white eyelashes, as long as one's finger. With these attractions she placed herself in ambuscade to surprise unwary hearts ; but she might have done so in vain, had it not been for the arrival of the Marquis de Brisacier. Heaven seemed to have made them for each other : he had in his person and manners every requisite to dazzle a creature of her character : he talked eternally, * It appears, by Cliatiihcrlayue's Anglia" Notitia, 1669, that this lafl3% or perhaps her sister, continued one of the duchess's maids of honor at that period. The Hst, at that time, was as follows : — i. Mrs. Arabella Churchill. 2. Mrs. Dorothy Howard. 3. Mrs. Anne Ogle. 4. Mrs. Mary Blague. The mother of the maids then was Mrs. Lucy Wise. Miss Blague performed the part of Diana, in Crown's Calisto, acted at court in 1675, and was then styled late maid of honor to the queen. Lord Orford, however, it should be observed, calls her Henrietta Maria, daugh- ter of Colonel Blague. It appears she became the wife of Sir Thomas Yarborough, of vSnaith, in Yorkshire. vShe was also, he says, sister of the wife of Sydnej', Lord Godolphin. That nobleman married, accord- ing to Collins, in his peerage, Margaret, at that time maid of honor to Katherine, Queen of England, fourth daughter, and one of the co-heirs of Thomas Blague, Esq., groom of the bedchamber to Charles I. and Charles II., colonel of a regiment of foot, and governor of Wallingford during the civil wars, and governor of Yarmouth and Lauguard Fort after the Restoration. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 145 without saying anything, and in his dress exceeded the most extravagant fashions. Miss Blague believed that all this finery was on her account ; and the Marquis be- lieved that her long eyelashes had never taken aim at any but himself : everybody perceived their inclination for each other ; but they had only conversed by mute interpreters, when Miss Hamilton took it into her head to intermeddle in their affairs. She was willing to do everything in order, and there- fore began with her cousin Muskerry, on account of her rank. Her two darling foibles were dress and dancing. Magnificence of dress was intolerable with her figure ; and though her dancing was still more insupportable, she never missed a ball at court : and the queen had so much complaisance for the public, as always to make her dance ; but it was impossible to give her a part in an entertainment so important and splendid as this mas- querade : however, she was dying with impatience for the orders she expected. It was in consequence of this impatience, of which Miss Hamilton was informed, that she founded the de- sign of diverting herself at the expense of this silly woman. The queen sent notes to those whom she ap- pointed to be present, and described the manner in which they were to be dressed. Miss Hamilton wrote a note exactly in the same manner to Lady Muskerry, with directions for her to be dressed in the Babylonian fashion. She assembled her counsel to advise about the means of sending it : this cabinet was composed of one of her brothers and a sister, who were glad to divert themselves at the expense of those who deserved it. After having consulted some time, they at last resolved upon a mode of conveying it into her own hands. Lord Muskerry was just going out, when she received it : he was a man of honor, rather serious, very severe, and a mortal enemy to ridicule. His wife's deformity was not .so intolerable 10 146 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. to him, as the ridiculous figure she made iipon all occa- sions. He thought that he was safe in the present case, not believing that the queen would spoil her masquerade by naming Lady jVIuskerry as one of the dancers ; never- theless, as he was acquainted with the passion his wife had to expose herself in public, by her dress and danc- ing, he had just been ad^•ising her very seriously to con- tent herself with being a spectator of this entertainment, even though the queen should have the cruelty to engage her in it : he then took the liberty to show her what little similarity there was between her figure and that of persons to whom dancing and magnificence in dress were allowable. His sermon concluded at last, by an express prohibition to solicit a place at this entertain- ment, which they had no thoughts of giving her ; but far from taking his advice in good part, she imagined that he was the only person who had prevented the queen from doing her an honor she so ardently desired ; and as soon as he was gone out, her design was to go and throw herself at her Majesty's feet to demand justice. She was in this very disposition when she received the billet : three times did she kiss it ; and without regard- ing her husband's injunctions, she immediately got into her coach in order to get information of the merchants who traded to the Levant, in what manner the ladies of quality dressed in Babylon. The plot laid for Miss Blague was of a different kind : she had such faith in her charms, and was so confident of their effects, that she could believe anything. Brisa- cier, whom she looked upon as desperately smitten, had wit, which he set off" with common-place talk, and with little sonnets : he sinig out of tune most methodically, and was continually exerting one or other of these happy talents : the Diike of Buckingham did all he could to spoil him, by the praises he bestowed both iipon his voice and upon his wit. Miss Blague, who hardly understood a word of French, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 147 regulated herself upon the Duke's authority, in admir- ing the one and the other. It was remarked, that all the words which he sung to her were in praise of fair women, and that always taking this to herself, she cast down her eyes in acknowledgment and consciousness. It was upon these obser\-ations they resolved to make a jest of her the first oi^portunity. Whilst these little projects were forming, the king, who always wished to oblige the Chevalier de Gram- niont, asked him if he would make one at the masquer- ade, on condition of being Miss Hamilton's partner? He did not pretend to dance sufficiently well for an occasion like the present ; yet he was far from revising the offer : "Sire," said he, "of all the favors you have been pleased to show me, siiice my arrival, I feel this more sensibly than any other ; and to convince you of my gratitude, I promise you all the good offices in my power with Miss Stewart." He said this because they had just given her an apartment separate from the rest of the maids of honor, which made the courtiers begin to pay respect to her. The king was very well pleased at this pleasantry, and having thanked him for so neces- sary an offer: "Monsieur le Chevalier," said he, "in what style do you intend to dress yourself for the ball? I leave you the choice of all countries." " If .so," said the Chevalier, " I will dress after the French manner, in order to disguise myself ; for they already do me the honor to take me for an Englishman in your city of 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 Rupert,* who so warmly espouses * 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 profKJsed it ; and was so great an enemy to Digby and Colepepper, who were only pres- 148 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. the interests of Alexander against Lord Thanet,* who declares himself for Caesar, I dare no longer think of assuming the hero : nevertheless, though I may dance awkwardly, yet, hy observing the tune, and with a little alertness, I hope to come off pretty well ; besides, Miss Hamilton will take care that too much attention shall not be paid to me. As for my dress, I shall send Termes off to-morrow morning ; and if I do not show you at his return the most splendid habit }-ou have ever seen, look upon mine as the most disgraced nation in your masquerade. ' ' Termes set out with ample instructions on the subject of his journey : and his master, redoubling his impa- tience on an occasion like the present, before the courier could be landed, began to count the minutes in expecta- tion of his return : thus was he employed imtil the very eve of the ball ; and that was the day that Miss Hamil- ton and her little society had fixed for the execution of their project. Martial gloves were then very much in fashion : she had by chance several pairs of them : she sent one to Miss Blague, accompanied with four yards of yellow riband, the palest she could find, to which she added this note : " You were the other day more charming than all the fair women in the world : you looked yesterday still more fair than you did the day before : if you go on, what will become of my heart ? Biit it is a long time since that has been a prey to your pretty little young eiit in the debates of the war with the officers, that he crossed all they proposed." — History of the Rebellion, vol. ii., 554. He is supposed to have invented the art of mezzotinto. * This nobleman, I believe, was John Tufton, second Earl of Thanet, who died 6th May, 1664. Lord Orford, however, imagines him to have been Nicholas Tufton, the third Earl of Thanet, his eldest son, who died 24th November, 1679. Both these noblemen suffered much for their loyalty. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 149 Tm'ld boar'' s eyes.* Shall you be at the masquerade to- morrow ? But cau there be any channs at au entertain- ment at which you are not present? It does not signify : I shall know you in whatever disguise you may be : but I shall be better informed of my fate by the present I send you : you will wear knots of this riband in your hair ; and these gloves will kiss the most beautiful hands in the universe." This billet, with the present, was delivered to Miss Blague, with the same success as the other had been conveyed to Lady Muskerry. Miss Hamilton had just received an account of it, when the latter came to pay her a visit : something seemed to possess her thoughts very much ; when, having stayed some time, her cousin desired her to walk into her cabinet. As soon as they were, there : " I desire your secrecy for what I am going to tell you," said Lady Muskerry. " Do not you won- der what strange creatures men are ? Do not trust to them, my dear cousin : my Lord IMuskerry, who, before our marriage, could have passed whole days and nights in seeing me dance, thinks proper now to forbid me dancing, and says it does not become me. This is not all : he has so often rung in my ears the subject of this masquerade, that I am obliged to hide from him the honor the queen has done me in inviting me to it. However, I am surprised I am not informed who is to be my partner : but if you knew what a plague it is to find out, in this cursed town, in what manner the people of Babylon dress, you would pity me for what I have suffered since the time I have been appointed : besides, the cost which it puts me to is beyond all imagination." Here it was that Miss Hamilton's inclination to laugh, * Marcassin is French for a wild boar : the eyes of this creature being remarkably small and lively, from thence the French say, " Des yeux marcassins," to signify little, though roguish eyes ; or, as we say, pigs' eyes. 150 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. which had increased in proportion as she endeavored to suppress it, at length overcame her, and broke out in an immoderate fit : Lady Muskerry took it in good hu- mor, not doubting but it was the fantastical conduct of her husband that she was laughing at. Miss Hamilton told her that all husbands were much the same, and that one ought not to be concerned at their whims ; that she did not know who was to be her partner at the mas- querade ; but that, as she was named, the gentleman named with her would certainly not fail to attend her ; although she could not comprehend why he had not yet declared himself, unless he likewise had some fantasti- cal spouse, who had forbid him to dance. This conversation being finished. Lady Muskerry went away in great haste, to endeavor to learn some news of her partner. Those who were accomplices in the plot were laughing very heartily at this visit, when Lord Muskerry paid them one in his turn, and taking INIiss Hamilton aside: "Do you know," said he, "whether there is to be any ball in the city to-morrow ? " " No," said she; "but why do you ask?" "Because," said he, " I am informed that my wife is making great prep- arations of dress. I know very well she is not to be at the masquerade : that I have taken care of ; but as the devil is in her for dancing, I am very much afraid that she will be affording some fresh subject for ridicule, not- withstanding all my precautions : however, if it was amongst the citizens at some private party, I should not much mind it." They satisfied him as well as they could, and having dismissed him, under pretence of a thousand things they had to prepare for the next day. Miss Hamilton thought herself at liberty for that morning, when in came Miss Price, one of the maids of honor to the Duchess.* This * Our author's memory here fails him : Miss Price was maid of honor to the queen. Mr. Granger says, "there was a Lady Price, a fine MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 151 was just what she was wishing for : This lady and Miss Blague had been at variance some time, on account of Duncan,* whom Miss Price had drawn away from the other ; and hatred still subsisted between these two divinities. Though the maids of honor were not nominated for the masquerade, yet they were to assist at it ; and, con- sequently, were to neglect nothing to set themselves off to advantage. Miss Hamilton liad still another pair ot gloves of the same sort as those she had sent to Miss Blague, which she made a present of to her rival, with a few knots of the same riband, which appeared to have been made on purpose for her, brown as she was. Miss Price returned her a thousand thanks, and promised to do herself the honor of wearing them at the ball. " You will oblige me if you do," said Miss Hamilton, "but if you mention that such a trifle as this comes from me, I shall never forgive you ; but," continued she, "do not go and rob poor Miss Blague of the ]\Iarquis Brisacier, as you already have of Duncan : I know very well that it is wholly in your power : you have wit : you speak French : and were he once to converse with you ever so little the other could have no pretensions to him." This was enough : Miss Blague was only ridiculous and co- quettish : Miss Price was ridiculous, coquettish, and something else besides. The day being come, the court, more splendid than ever, exhibited all its magnificence at this masquerade. The company were all met except the Chevalier de woman, who was daughter of Sir Edmond Warcup, concerniug whom see Wood's Fasti O.x oii, ii., 184. Her father had the vanity to think that Charles II. would marry her, though he had then a queen. There were letters of his wherein he mentioned, that "his daughter was one night and t'other with the king, and verj' graciouslj- received by him." — History of England, vol. iv., p. 33.8. * I believe this name shoidd be written Dongan. Lord Orford says, of this house were the ancient Earls of Limerick. 152 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Grammont: everybody was astonished that he should be one of the last at such a time, as his readiness was so remarkable on every occasion ; but they were still more surprised to see him at length appear in an ordinary court dress, which he had worn before. The thing was preposterous on such an occasion, and very extraordinary with respect to him: in vain had he the finest point-lace, with the largest and best powdered peruke imaginable : his dress, magnificent enough for any other purpose, was not at all proper for this entertainment. The king immediately took notice of it: "Chevalier," said he, " Termes is not arrived then ? " " Pardon me, sire," said he, "God be thanked!" "Why God be thanked?" said the king ; "has anything happened to him on the road ? " " Sire, ' ' said the Chevalier de Gram- mont, "this is the history of my dress, and of Termes my messenger. " At these words the ball, ready to begin, was suspended: the dancers making a circle around the Chevalier de Grammont, he continued his story in the following manner. " It is now two days since this fellow ought to have been here, according to my orders and his protesta- tions ; you may judge of my impatience all this day, when I found he did not come: at last, after I had heart- ily cursed him, about an hour ago he arrived, splashed all over from head to foot, booted up to the waist, and looking is if he had been excommunicated : ' Very well, Mr. Scoundrel,' said I, 'this is just like you, you must be waited for to the very last minute, and it is a miracle that you are arrived at all.' ' Yes, faith,' said he, ' it is a miracle. You are always grumbling : I had the finest suit in the world made for you, which the Duke de Guise himself was at the trouble of ordering.' ' Gi\'e it me then, scoundrel,' said I. ' Sir,' said he, ' if I did not employ a dozen embroiderers upon it, who did nothing but work day and night, I am a rascal : I never left them one moment.' 'And where is it, traitor?' said I: 'do MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 153 not stand here prating, while I should be dressing.' 'I had,' continued he, 'packed it up, made it tight, and folded it in such a manner, that all the rain in the world could never have been able to reach it ; and I rid post, day and night, knowing your impatience, and that you were not to be trifled with. ' ' But where is it ? ' said I. 'Lost, sir,' said he, clasping his hands. 'How ! lost,' said I, in surprise. ' Yes, lost, perished, swallowed up: what can I sa}- more ? ' ' What ! was the packet boat cast away then ? ' said I. ' Oh ! indeed, sir, a great deal worse, as you shall see,' answered he: 'I was within half a league of Calais yesterday morning, and I was resolved to go by the seaside, to make greater haste ; biit, indeed, they say very true, that nothing is like the highwa}- ; for I got into a quicksand, where I sunk up to the chin.' 'A quicksand,' said I, 'near Calais?' 'Yes, sir,' said he, 'and such a quicksand that, the devil take me, if they saw anything but the top of my head when they pulled me out: as for my horse, fifteen men could scarce get him out; but the portmanteau, where I had unfortunately put your clothes, could never be found : it must be at least a league under ground.' "This, sire," continued the Chevalier de Gramniont, "is the adventure, and the relation which this honest gentleman has given me of it. I shotild certainh- have killed him but I was afraid of making Miss Hamilton wait, and I was desirous of giving your Majesty imme- diate advice of the quicksand, that your couriers may take care to avoid it." The king was ready to split his sides with laughing, when the Chevalier de Grammont, resuming the discourse, "Apropos, sire," said he, "I had forgot to tell you, that, to increase my ill-humor, I was stopped, as I was getting out of my chair, by the devil of a phantom in masquerade, who would by all means persuade me that the queen had commanded me to dance with her; and as I excused myself with the least rudeness possible, she 154 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. charged me to find out who was to be her partner, and desired me to send him to her immediately : so that yonr Majesty will do well to give orders about it ; for she has placed herself in ambush in a coach, to seize upon all those who pass through Whitehall. However, I must tell you, that it is worth while to see her dress ; for she must have at least sixty ells of gauze and silver tis- sue about her, not to mention a sort of a pyramid upon her head, adorned with a hundred thousand baubles." This last account surprised all the assembly, except those who had a share in the plot. The queen assured them that all she had appointed for the ball were pres- ent ; and the king, having paused some minutes : "I bet," said he, " that it is the Duchess of Newcastle." * "And I," said Lord Muskerry, coming up to Miss Ham- ilton, "will bet it is another fool ; for I am very much mistaken if it is not my wife." The king was for sending to know who it was, and to bring her in: Lord Musketry offered himself for that ser- vice, for the reason already mentioned ; and it was very well he did so. Miss Hamilton was not sorry for this, knowing very well that he was not mistaken in his con- jecture; the jest would have gone much farther than she intended, if the Princess of Babylon had appeared in all her glory. * This fantastic lady, as Lord Orford properly calls her, was the youngest daughter of Sir Charles Lucas, and had been one of the maids of honor to Charles the First's queen, whom she attended when forced to leave England. At Paris she married the Duke of Newcastle, and continued in exile ■with him until the restoration. After her return to England, she lived entirely devoted to letters, and pub- lished many volumes of plays, poems, letters, etc. She died in 1673, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Lord Orford says, there is a whole length of this duchess at Welbeck, in a theatrical dress, which, tradition says, she generally wore. She had always a maid of honor in waiting during the night, who was often called up to register the duchess's conceptions. These were all of a literary kind ; for her grace left no children. MEMOIRS OV COUNT GRAMMONT. 155 The ball was not very well executed, if one may be allowed the expression, so long as they danced only slow dances; and yet there were as good dancers, and as beau- tiful women in this assembly, as were to be found in the whole world : but as their number was not great, they left the French, and went to country dances. When they had danced some time, the king thought fit to introduce his auxiliaries, to give the others a little respite ; the queen's and the duchess's maids of honor were therefore called in to dance with the gentlemen. Then it was that they were at leisure to take notice of Miss Blague, and they found that the billet they had conveyed, to her on the part of Brisacier had its effect : she was more yellow than saffron : her hair was stuffed with the citron-colored riband, which she had put there out of complaisance; and, to inform Brisacier of his fate, she raised often to her head her victorious hands, adorned with the gloves we have before mentioned : but, if they were surprised to see her in a head-dress that made her look more wan than ever, she was very differently sur- prised to see Miss Price partake with her in every par- ticular of Brisacier's present: her surprise soon turned to jealousy; for her rival had not failed to join in conversa- tion with him, on account of what had been insiniiated to her the evening before; nor did Brisacier fail to return her first advances, without paying the least attention to the fair Blague, nor to the signs which she was torment- ing herself to make him, to inform him of his happy destiny. Miss Price was short and thick, and consequently no dancer. The Duke of Buckingham, who brought Brisa- cier forward as often as he could, came to desire him, on the part of the king, to dance with Miss Blague, without knowing what was then passing in this nymph's heart : Brisacier excused himself, on account of the contempt he had for country dances : Miss Blague thought that it was herself that he despised ; and seeing that he was engaged 156 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. in conversation with her mortal enemy, she began to dance, without knowing what she was doing. Though her indignation and jealousy were sufficiently remarkable to divert the court, none but Miss Hamilton and her ac- complices understood the joke perfectly : their pleasure was quite complete ; for Lord Muskerry returned, still more confounded at the vision, of which the Chevalier de Grammont had given the description. He acquainted Miss Hamilton that it was Lady Muskerry herself, a thousand times more ridiculoi;s than she had ever been before, and that he had had an immense trouble to get her home, and place a sentry at her chamber door. The reader may think, perhaps, that we have dwelt too long on these trifling incidents ; perhaps he may be right. We will therefore pass to others. Everything favored the Chevalier de Grammont in the new passion which he entertained: he was not, however, without rivals; but, what is a great deal more extraordi- nary, he was without uneasiness: he was acquainted with their understandings, and no stranger to Miss Hamilton's way of thinking. Among her lovers, the most considerable, though the least professedly so, was the Duke of York : it was in vain for him to conceal it, the court was too well acquainted with his character to doubt of his inclinations for her. He did not think it proper to declare such sentiments as were not fit for INIiss Hamilton to hear ; but he talked to her as much as he could, and ogled her with great assi- duity. As hunting was his favorite diversion, that sport employed him one part of the day, and he came home generally much fatigued ; but Miss Hamilton's presence revived him, when he found her either with the queen or the duchess. There it was that, not daring to tell her of what lay heavy on his heart, he entertained her with what he had in his head; telling her miracles of the cun- ning of foxes and the mettle of horses ; giving her accounts of broken legs and arms, dislocated shoulders, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 157 and other curious and entertaining adventures; after which, his eyes told her the rest, till such time as sleep interrupted their conversation; for these tender interpre- ters could not help sometimes composing themselves in the midst of their ogling. The duchess was not at all alarmed at a passion which her rival was far from thinking sincere, and with which she used to divert herself, as far as respect would admit her; on the contrary, as her highness had an affection and esteem for Aliss Hamilton, she never treated her more gracioiisly than on the present occasion. The two Russells, uncle* and nephew, f were two other of the Chevalier de Grammont's rivals : the imcle was full seventy, and had distinguished himself by his courage and fidelity in the civil wars. His passions and intentions, with regard to Miss Hamilton, appeared both at once ; but his magnificence only appeared by halves in those gallantries which love inspires. It was not long since the fashion of high crowned hats had been left off", in order to fall into the other extreme. Old Russell, amazed at so terrible a change, resolved to keep a me- dium, which made him remarkable : he was still more so, by his constancy for cut doublets, which he sup- ported a long time after they had been universally sup- pressed ; but, what was more surprising than all, was a certain mixture of avarice and liberality, constantly at war with each other, ever since he had entered the list with love. His nephew was only of a younger brother's family, but was considered as his uncle's heir; and though he * Russell, third sou of Francis, the fourth Earl of Bedford, and colonel of the first regiment of foot guards. He died unmarried, in November, 1681. t William, eldest son of Edward Russell, younger brother of the above John Russell. He was standard-bearer to Charles II., and died unmarried, 1674. He was elder brother to Russell, Earl of Orford. 158 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. was under the necessity of attending to his uncle for an establishment, and still more so of humoring him, in order to get his estate, he could not avoid his fate. IMrs. Middleton showed him a sufficient degree of preference; but her favors could not secure him from the charms of Miss Hamilton: his person would have had nothing dis- agreeable in it if he had but left it to nature ; but he v/as formal in all his actions, and silent even to stupidity ; and yet rather more tiresome when he did speak. The Chevalier de Grammont, very much at his ease in all these competitions, engaged himself more and more in his passion, without forming other designs, or conceiving other hopes, than to render himself agree- able. Though his passion was openly declared, no per- son at court regarded it otherwise than as a habit of gallantry, which goes no farther than to do justice to merit. His monitor, Saint Evremond, was quite of a different opinion ; and finding, that, besides an immense increase of maqfuificence and assiduitv, he regretted those hours which he bestowed on play ; that he no longer sought after those long and agreeable conversations they used to have together ; and that this new attachment every- where robbed him of himself : "Monsieur le Chevalier," said he, "methinks that for some time you have left the town beauties and their lovers in perfect repose : IVIrs. INIiddleton makes fresh conquests with impunity, and wears your presents, un- der your nose, without your taking the smallest notice. Poor Miss Warmestre has been very quietly brought to bed in the midst of the court, withoiit your having even said a word aboiit it. I foresaw it plain enough. Mon- sieur le Chevalier, you have got acquainted with Miss Hamilton, and, what has never before happened to } ou, you are really in love ; but let us consider a little what may be the consequence. In the first place, then, I be- lieve, you have not the least intention of seducing her : MEMOIR.S OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 159 such is her birth and merit, that if you were in posses- sion of the estate and title of your family, it might be excusable in } ou to offer yourself iipon honorable terms, however ridiculous marriage may be in general ; for, if you only wish for wit, prudence, and the treasures of beaut)', you could not pay )-our 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 improperh'. "For your brother Toulongeon, whose disposition I am acquainted with, will not have the complaisance to die, to favor your pretensions : but suppose you had a competent fortune for you both — and that is supposing a good deal — are you acquainted with the delicacy, not to say capriciousness, of this fair one about such an en- gagement ? Do you know that she has had the choice of the best matches in England ? The Duke of Rich- mond paid his addresses to her first ; but though he was in love with her, still he was mercenary : however, the king, observing that want of fortune was the only im- pediment to the match, took that article upon himself, out of regard to the Duke of Ormond, to the merit and birth of Miss Hamilton, and to her father's services ; but, resenting that a man, who pretended to be in love, should bargain like a merchant, and likewise reflecting upon his character in the world, she did not think that being Duchess of Richmond was a sufficient recompense for the danger that was to be feared from a brute and a debauchee. "Has not little Jermyn, notwithstandiLg his uncle's great estate, and his own brilliant reputation, failed in his suit to her ? And has she ever so much as vouch- safed to look at Henry Howard,* who is upon the point * This was Henrj' Howard, brother to Thomas, Earl of Arundel, who by a special act of parliament, in 1664, was restored to the honors of the family, forfeited by the attainder of his ancestor, in the time of Queeu Elizabeth. On the death of his brother, in 1667, he became 160 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. of being the first duke in England, and who is already in actual possession of all the estates of the house of Nor- folk ? I confess that he is a clown, but what other lady in all England would not have dispensed with his stu- pidity and his disagreeable person to be the first duchess in the kingdom, with twenty-five thousand a year? "To conclude, Eord Falmouth has told me himself, that he has always looked upon her as the only acqiiisi- tion wanting to complete his happiness : but, that even at the height of the splendor of his fortune, he never had had the assurance to open his sentiments to her ; that he either felt in himself too nuich weakness, or too much pride, to be satisfied with obtaining her solely by the persuasion of her relations ; and that, thoiigh the first refusals of the fair on such occasions are not much minded, he knew with what an air she had received the addresses of those whose persons she did not like. After this, Monsieur le Chevalier, consider what method you intend to pursue : for, if you are in love, the passion will still increase, and the greater the attachment, the less capable will you be of making those serious reflections that are now in your power." "My poor philosopher," answered the Chevalier de Grammont, "you understand Latin very well, you can make good verses, you understand the coiirse, and are acquainted with the nature of the stars in the firmament; but, as for the luminaries of the terrestrial globe, you are utterly unacquainted with them : you have told me nothing about Miss Hamilton but what the king told me three days ago. That she has refused the savages you have mentioned is all in her favor : if she had admitted their addresses, I would have had nothing to say to her, though I love her to distraction. Attend now to what I am going to say : I am resolved to marry her, and I will Duke of Norfolk, and died January ii, 1683-4, at his house in Arundel street, aged 55. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 161 have my tutor Saint Evreiuond himself to be the first man to commend me for it. As for an establishment, I shall make my peace with the king, and will solicit him to make her one of the ladies of the bed-chamber to the queen : this he will grant me. Toulongeon will die, with- out my assistance,* and notwithstanding all his care ; and Miss Hamilton will have Semeat,t with the Chevalier de Grammont, as an indemnification for the Norfolks and Richmonds. Now, have you anything to advance against this project? For I will bet you an hundred louis that everything will happen as I have foretold it." At this time the king's attachment to Miss Stewart was so public, that every person perceived, that if she was but possessed of art, she might become as absolute a mistress over his conduct as she was over his heart. This was a fine opportunity for those who had experience and ambition. The Duke of Buckingham formed the design of governing her, in order to ingratiate himself with the king : God knows what a governor he would have been, and what a head he was possessed of, to guide another ; however, he was the properest man in the world to insimiate himself with Miss Stewart ; she was childish in her behavior, and laughed at everything, and her taste for frivolous amusements, though unaf- fected, was only allowable in a girl about twelve or thir- teen years old. A child, however, she was, in every other respect, except playing with a doll : blind man's buff was her most favorite amusement: she was building castles of cards, while the deepest play was going on in her apartments, where you saw her surrounded by eager courtiers, who handed her the cards, or young architects, who endeavored to imitate her. * Count de Toulongeon was elder brother to Count Grammont, who, by his death, in 1679, became, according to St. Evreinond, on that event, one of the richest noblemen at Court. — See S/. Evremond' s Works, vol. ii., p. 327. t A country seat belonging to the family of the Grammonts. 11 162 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. She had, however, a passion for music, and had some taste for singing. The Duke of Buckingham, who built the finest towers of cards imaginable, had an agree- .able voice: she had no aversion to scandal: and the duke was both the father and the mother of scandal ; he made songs, and invented old women's stories, with which she was delighted; but his particular talent consisted in turn- ing into ridicule whatever was ridiculous in other people, and in taking them off, even in their presence, without their perceiving it: in short, he knew how to act all parts with so miich grace and pleasantry, that it was difficult to do without him, when he had a mind to make himself agreeable; and he made himself so necessary to I\Iiss Stewart's amusement, that she sent all over the town to seek for him, when he did not attend the king to her apartments. He was extremely handsome,* and still thought hini- * George Villiers, the second Duke of Buckingham, was born 30th January, 1627. Lord Orford observes, "When this extraordinary man, with the figure and genius of Alcibiades, could equally charm the presbyterian Fairfax and the dissolute Charles ; when he alike ridiculed that witty king and his solemn chancellor ; when he plotted the ruin of his country with a cabal of bad ministers, or, equally unprincipled, supported its cause with bad patriots, — one laments that such parts should have been devoid of every virtue ; but when Alcibiades turns chemist ; when he is a real bubble and a visionary miser ; when ambi- tion is but a frolic ; when the worst designs are for the foolisliest ends, — contempt extinguishes all reflection on his character." " The portrait of this duke has been drawn by four masterlj- hands. Burnet has hewn it out with his rough chisel ; Count Hamilton touched it with that slight delicacy that finishes while it seems but to sketch ; Dryden caught the living likeness ; Pope completed the historical re- semblance." — Royal Authors, vol. ii., p. 78. Of these four portraits, the second is in the text ; the other three will complete the character of this extraordinary nobleman. Bishop Burnet says, he " was a man of noble presence. He had a great liveliness of wit, and a peculiar faculty of turning all things into ridicule, with bold figures, and natural descriptions. He had no sort of literature, only he was drawn into chemistry ; and for some years he thought he was very near finding the philosopher's stone, which had the effect that attends on all such men as he was, when they are MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 163 self much more so than he really was: althou.o;h he had a great deal of discermnent, yet his vanity made him mis- drawn in, to lay out for it. He had no principles of religion, virtue, or friendship : — pleasure, frolic, or extravagant diversion was all that he laid to heart. He was true to nothing ; for he was not true to himself. He had no steadiness nor conduct : he could keep no secret, nor exe- cute any design without spoiling it. He could never fix his thoughts, nor govern his estate, though then the greatest in England. He was bred about the king, and for man}' years he had a great ascendancy over him ; but he spake of him to all persons with that contempt, that at last he drew a lasting disgrace upon himself. And he at length ruined both body and mind, fortune and reputation equally. The mad- ness of vice appeared in his person in very eminent instances ; since at last he became contemptible and poor, sickly, and .sunk in his parts, as well as in all other respects ; so that his 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 lines : " In the first rank of these did Zimri stand ; A man so various, that he seeni'd to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong ; Was everything by starts, and nothing long. But, in the course of one revolving moon, Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking. Blest madman, who could everj- hour employ With something new to wish or to enjo}' ! Railing and praising were his usual themes. And both, to show his judgment, in extremes ; So over violent, or over civil. That every man with him was god or devil. In squandering wealth was his peculiar art ; Nothing went unrewarded but desert. Beggar'd by fools, whom still he found too late ; He had his jest, and the}- had his estate : He laugh'd himself from court, then sought relief By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief; For, spite of him, the weight of business fell On Absalom and wise Ahitophel : Thus wicked but in will, of means bereft. He left not faction, but of that was left." Absalom and . lliitophel. 164 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. take some civilities as intended for his person, which were only bestowed on his wit and droller\^ : in short, being seduced by too good an opinion of his own merit, he forgot his first project and his Portuguese mistress, in order to pursue a fancy in which he mistook himself; for he no sooner began to act a serious part with Miss Stewart, than he met with so severe a repulse that he abandoned, at once, all his designs upon her : how- ever, the familiarity she had procured him with the king, opened the way to those favors to which he was after- wards advanced. Lord Arlington* took up the project which the Duke Pope describes the last scene of this nobleman's life in these lines : " In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung, The floors of plaster, and the walls of dung, On once a 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 chang'd from him, That life of pleasure, and that soul of whim ! Gallant and gay, in Clieveden's proud alcove, The bower of wanton Shrewsbury and love ; Or, just as gay, at council, in a ring Of mimic'd statesmen, and their merry king. No wit, to flatter, left of all his store ! No fool to laugh at, which he valued more. There, victor of his health, of fortune, friends. And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends." Moral Essays, Epist. iii., 1. 299. He died i6th April, 1688, at the house of a tenant, at Kirby Moor Side, near Helmsley, in Yorkshire, aged 61 years, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. * Henrj- Bennet, Earl of Arlington, principal secretary of state, and lord chamberlain to King Charles II. : a nobleman whose practices, during that reign, have not left his character free from reproach. Mr. Macpherson says of him, that he "supplied the place of extensive talents by an artful management of such as he possessed. Accom- modating in his principles, and easy in his address, he pleased when he was known to deceive ; and his manner acquired to him a kind of influence where he commanded no respect. He was little calculated for bold measures, on account of his natural timidity ; and that defect MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 165 of Buckingham had abandoned, and endeavored to gain possession of the mind of the mistress, in order to govern the master. A man of greater merit and higher birth than himself niight, however, have been satisfied with the fortune he had already acquired. His first negotia- tions were during the treaty of the Pyrenees: and though he was ttnsuccessful in his proceedings for his employer, yet he did not altogether lose his time ; for he perfectly acquired, in his exterior, the serious air and profound gra\'ity of the Spaniards, and imitated pretty well their tardiness in biisiness : he had a scar across his nose, which was covered by a long patch, or rather by a small plaster, in form of a lozenge. Scars in the face commonly give a man a certain fierce and martial air, which sets him off to advantage ; but it was quite the contrary with him, and this remarkable plaster so well suited his mysterious looks, that it seemed an addition to his gravity and self-sufficiency. Arlington, under the mask of this compound counte- nance, where great earnestness passed for business, and impenetrable stupidity for secrecy, had given himself the character of a great politician; and no one having leisure to examine him, he was taken at his word, and had been made minister and secretary of state, upon the credit of his own importance. created an opinion of his moderation that was ascribed to \artue. His facilit)- to adopt new measures was forgotten in his readiness to acknowledge the errors of the old. The deficiency of his integrity was forgiven in the decency of his dishonesty. Too weak not to be superstitious, yet possessing too much sense to own his adherence to the church of Rome, he lived a protestant in his outward profession, but he died a catholic. Timidity was the chief characteristic of his mind ; and that being known, he was even commanded by cowards. He was the man of the least genius of the party : but he had most experience in that slow and constant current of 1)usiness, which, per- haps, suits affairs of state better than the violent exertions of men of great parts." — Original Papers, vol. i. Lord .Arlington died July 28, 16S5. See a character of him in Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham's Works. 166 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. His ambition soaring still above these high stations, after having provided himself with a great number of fine maxims, and some historical anecdotes, he obtained an audience of Miss Stewart, in order to display them; at the same time offering her his most humble services, and best advice, to assist her in conducting herself in the sit- uation to which it had pleased God and her virtue to raise her. But he was only in the preface of his speech, when she recollected that he was at the head of those whom the Duke of Buckingham iised to mimic ; and as his presence and his language exactly revived the ridicu- lous ideas that had been given her of him, she could not forbear bursting out into a fit of laughter in his face, so much the more violent as she had for a long time strug- gled to suppress it. The minister was enraged : his pride became his post, and his punctilious behavior merited all the ridicule which could be attached to it: he quitted her abruptly, with all the fine advice he had prepared for her, and was almost tempted to carry it to 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 particularly to propose an act to forbid the keeping of mistresses ; but his pru- dence conquered his resentments ; and thinking only how to enjoy with pleasure the blessings of fortune, he sent to Holland for a wife,* in order to complete his felicity. Hamilton was, of all the courtiers, the best qualified * This lady was Isabella, daughter to Lewis de Nassau, Lord Bever- waert, son to Maurice, Prince of Orange, and Count Nassau. By her, Lord Arlington had an only daughter, named Isabella, who married, August I, 1672, Henry, Earl of Euston, son to King Charles II., by Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, created afterwards Duke of Grafton ; and, after 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. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 167 to succeed in an enterprise in which the Duke of Biick- iughaiii and Lord Arlington had miscarried : he was thinking upon it ; but his natural coquetry traversed his intentions, and made him neglect the most advantageous prospects in the world, in order unnecessarily to attend to the advances and allurements thrown out to him by the Countess of Chesterfield. This was one of the most agreeable women in the world : she had a most exquisite shape, though she was not ver>' tall ; her complexion was extremely fair, with all the expressive charms of a brunette ; she had large blue eyes, very tempting and alluring ; her manners were engaging ; her .wit lively and amusing ; but her heart, ever open to tender senti- ments, was neither scrupulous in point of constancy, nor nice in point of sincerity. She was daughter to the Duke of Ormond, * and Hamilton, being her cousin- german, they might be as much as they pleased in each other's company without being particular ; but as .soon as her eyes gave him some encouragement, he enter- tained no other thoughts than how to please her, with- out considering her fickleness, or the obstacles he had to encounter. His intention, which we mentioned before, of establishing himself in the confidence of Miss Stewart no longer occupied his thoughts: she now was of opinion that she was capable of being the mistress of her own conduct : she had done all that was necessary to inflame the king's passions, without exposing her virtiie by granting the last favors; but the eagerness of a pa.ssionate lover, blessed with favorable opportvniities, 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. * And second wife of the Earl of Chesterfield. She survived the ad- ventures here related a verj' short time, dying in July, 1665, at the age of 25 years. 168 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Then it was that Miss Stewart was greatly pleased with herself for the resistance she had made, though she had paid dearly for it : a thousand flattering hopes of greatness and glory filled her heart, and the additional respect that was universally paid her contributed not a little to increase them. The queen was given over by her physicians : * the few Portuguese women that had not been sent back to their own country filled the court with doleful cries ; and the good nature of the king was much affected with the situation in which he saw a princess, whom, though he did not love her, yet he greatly esteemed. She loved him tenderly, and think- ing that it was the last time she should ever speak to him, she told him, that the concern he showed for her death was enough to make her quit life with regret ; but that not possessing charms sufficient to merit his tender- ness, she had at least the consolation in dying to give place to a consort who might be more worthy of it, and to whom heaven, perhaps, might grant a blessing that had been refused to her. At these words, she bathed his hands with some tears, which he thought would be her last : he mingled his own with hers ; and without sup- posing she would take him at his word, he conjured her to live for his sake. She had never yet disobeyed him ; and, however dangerous sudden impulses may be, when one is between life and death, this transport of joy, which might have proved fatal to her, saved her life, and the king's wonderful tenderness had an effect for *This happened in October, 1663. Lord Arlington, in a letter to the Duke of Ormond, dated the 17th of that month, says, "the condition of the queen is much worse, and the ph3-sicians give us but little hopes of her recovery ; by the next you will hear she is either in a fair way to it, or dead : to-morrow is a very critical day with her : God's will be done. The king coming to see her this morning, she told him she willingly left all the world but him ; which hath very much afflicted his majesty, and all the court with him." — Brown's Miscellanea Aulica, 1702, p. 306. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 169 which every person did not thank heaven in the same manner. Jermyn had now for some time been recovered of his wonnds: however, Lady Castlemaiue, finding his health in as deplorable a condition as ever, resolved to regain the king's heart, bnt in vain : for notwithstanding the softness of her tears, and the violence of her passions. Miss Stewart wholly possessed it. During this period the court was variously entertained : sometimes there were promenades, and at others the court beauties sallied out on horseback, and to make attacks with their charms and graces, sometimes successfully, sometimes other- wise, but always to the best of their abilities : at other seasons there were such .shows on the river as the city of London alone can afford. The Thames washes the sides of a large though not a magnificent palace of the kings of Great Britain : * from the stairs of this palace the court used to take water in the summer evenings, when the heat and dust prevented their walking in the park : an infinite number of open boats, filled with the court and city beaiities, attended the barges, in which were the Royal Family : collations, music and fireworks, completed the scene. The Cheva- lier de Gramniont always made one of the company, and it was very seldonr that he did not add something of his own invention, agreeably to surprise by some un- expected stroke of magnificence and gallantry. Some- times he had complete concerts of vocal and instrumental music, which he privately brought from Paris, and which struck up on a sudden in the midst of these parties ; sometimes he gave banquets, which likewise came from France, and which, even in the midst of London, sur- passed the king's collations. These entertainments sometimes exceeded, as others fell short of his expecta- * This was Whitehall, which was burnt down, except the banqueting- house, 4th Januarj-, 1698. — See Harlcian Miscellany, vol. vi., p. 367. 170 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. tions, but they always cost him an immense deal of money. Lord Falmouth was one of those who had the greatest friendship and esteem for the Chevalier de Grammont : this profusion gave him concern, and as he often used to go and sup with him without ceremony, one day finding only Saint Evremond there, and a supper fit for half a dozen guests, who had been invited in form: " Yoii must not," said he, addressing himself to the Chevalier de Grammont, "be obliged to me for this visit. I come from the king's coucher^ where all the discourse was aboiit 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 ni}- ov/n part," continued he, smiling, " you know very well that I would solicit him so to do, if it was not through fear of losing you as soon as your peace is made ; but, thanks to Miss Hamilton, you are in no great haste : however, I am ordered by the king, my master, to acquaint you, that while you remain here, until you are restored to the -favor of your sovereign, he presents you with a pension of fifteen hundred Jacobus's : it is indeed a trifle, con- sidering the figure the Chevalier de Grammont makes among us ; but it will assist him," said he, embracing him, " to give us sometimes a supper." The Chevalier de Grammont received, as he ought, the offer of a favor he did not think proper to accept: "I acknowledge," said he, " the king's bounty in this pro- posal, but I am still more sensible of Lord Falmouth's generosity in it ; and I request him to assure his Majesty of my perfect gratitude : the king, my master, will not suffer me to want, when he thinks fit to recall me ; and while I continue here, I will let you see that I have wherewithal to give my English friends now and then a supper. ' ' MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 171 At these words, lie called for his strong box, and showed him seven or eight thousand guineas in solid gold. Lord Falmouth, willing to improve to the Cheva- lier's advantage the refusal of so advantageous an offer, gave Monsieur de Comminge, * then ambassador at the English court, an account of it ; nor did Monsieur de Comminge fail to represent properly the merit of such a refusal to the French court. Hyde Park, every one knows, is the promenade of London : f nothing was so much in fashion, during the fine weather, as that promenade, which was the rendez- vous of magnificence and beaut}- : 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 J were then a late invention : the *This gentleman was ambassador in London, from the court of France, during the 3'ears 1663, 1664, and 1665. Lord Clarendon, speaking of him, describes him as something capricious in his nature, which made him hard to treat with, and not always vacant at the hours himself assigned ; being hypochondriac, and seldom sleeping without opium. — Continuation of Clarendon's Life, p. 263. t The writer already quoted gives this description of the entertain- ments of the place at this period : "I did frequently, in the spring, accompany ni}- lord N into a field near the town, which they call Hyde Park ; the place is not unpleasant, and which thej' use as our course ; but with nothing of that order, equipage, and splendor ; being such an assembly of wretched jades, and hackney coaches, as, next a regiment of car- men, there is nothing approaches the resemblance. This park was (it seems) used by the late king and nobility for the freshness of the air and the goodly prospect ; but it is that which now (besides all other excises) they pay for here, in England, though it be free in all the world besides ; every coach and horse which enters buying his mouthful, and permission of the publican who has purchased it; for which the entrance is guarded with porters and long staves. — A Char- acter of lingland, as it u'as lately presented to a Xoltlenian of /■'ranee, i2mo., 1659, P- 54- X Coaches were first introduced into Ejigland in the year 1564. Taylor, the water poet {Works, 1630, p. 240), says, — "One \Villiam Boonen, a Dutchman, brought first the use of coaches hither ; and the 172 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ladies were afraid of being shut up in them: they greatly preferred the pleasure of showing almost their whole persons, to the conveniences of modern coaches : that which was made for the king not being remarkable for its elegance, the Chevalier de Grammont was of opinion that something ingenioiis 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 instn;ctions to Paris: the Duke of Guise was likewise charged with this commission; and the courier, having by the favor of Providence escaped the quicksand, in a month's time brought safely over to England, the most elegant and magnificent calash that had ever been seen, which the Chevalier presented to the king. The Chevalier de Grammont had given orders that fif- teen hundred louis should be expended upon it; but the Duke of Guise, who was his friend, to oblige him, laid out two thousand. All the court was in admiration at the magnificence of the present ; and the king, charmed with the Chevalier's attention to everything which could alford him pleasure, failed not to acknowledge it : he would not, however, accept a present of so much value, but upon condition that the Chevalier should not refuse another from him. The queen, imagining that so splendid a carriage might prove fortimate for her, wished to appear in it first. said Boonen was Queen Elizabeth's coachman ; for, indeed, a coach was a strange monster in those days, and the sight of them put both horse and man into amazement." Dr. Percy observes, they were first drawn by two horses, and that it was the favorite Buckingham, who, about 1619, began to draw it with six horses. About the same time, he intro- duced the sedan. The Ultimum Vale of John Carletoit, 4to., 1663, p. 23, will, in a great measure, ascertain the time of the introduction of glass coaches. He saj-s, "I could wish her (/. e. Mary Carleton's) coach (which she said my lord Taff bought for her in England, and sent it over to her, made of the tirrc fashion, with f^lassr, very stately ; and her pages and lacquies were of the same livery) was come for me," etc. MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 173 with the Duchess of York. Lady Castlemaine, who had seen them in it, thinking that it set off a fine figure to greater advantage than any other, desired the king to lend her this wonderful calash to appear in it the first fine day in Hyde Park: Miss Stewart had the same wish, and requested to have it on the same day. As it was impossible to reconcile these two goddesses, whose for- mer tmion was turned into mortal hatred, the king was very much perplexed. Lad}' Castlemaine was with child, and threatened to miscarry, if her rival was preferred ; Miss Stewart threatened, that she never would be with child, if her request was not granted. This menace prevailed, and Lady Castlemaine' s rage was so great, that she had almost kept her word; and it was believed that this triumph cost her rival some of her innocence. The queen dowager, who, though she had no share in these broils, had no objection to them, and as usual being diverted with this circumstance, she took occasion to joke with the Chevalier de Grammont, for having thrown this bone of contention among such competitors ; and did not fail to give him, in the presence of the whole court, those praises which so magnificent a present deserved: "But how comes it," said she, "that you have no eqiiipage yourself, though you are at so great an ex- pense ? for I am told that you do not keep even a single footman, and that one of the common runners in the streets lights you home with a stinking link." " Mad- am," said he, "the Chevalier de CTranunont hates pomp: my link-boy, of whom yon speak, is faithful to my ser- vice; and besides, he is one of the bravest fellows in the world. Your Majesty is unacquainted with the nation of link-boys : it is a charming one, I can assure you : a man cannot step out in the night without being sur- rounded by a dozen of them. The first time I became acquainted with them, I retained all that offered me their .services; so that when I arrived at Whitehall, I had 174 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. at least two hundred about my chair: the sight was new; for those who had seen me pass with this ilhnnination, asked whose funeral it was. These gentlemen, however, began fighting about some dozen shillings I had thrown among them then; and he whom your Majesty mentions, having beaten three or four of his companions, I retained him for his valor. As for the parade of coaches and footmen, I despise it : I have sometimes had five or six valets-de-chambre at once, without having a single ser- vant in livery, except my chaplain Poussatin. " " How ! ' ' said the queen, bursting out laughing, "a chaplain in yom livery ! he surely was not a priest? " " Pardon me, madam," said he, "and the first priest in the world for dancing the Biscayan jig." "Chevalier," said the king, " pray tell us the history of your chaplain Poussatin. ' ' QUEEN DOWAGER. CHAPTER VIII. " Sire," 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 Grenada : he suffered us to make our first approaches to the place without the least molestation. The Marshal de Grammont, t whose maxim it was, that a governor who at first makes a great blustering, and burns his suburbs in order to make a noble defence, generally makes a very bad one, looked upon Gregorio de Brice' s politeness as no good omen for us ; but the prince, cov- ered with glory, and elated with the campaigns of Rocroy, Norlinguen, and Fribourg, to insult both the *This was in 1647. Voltaire says "he, Conde, was accused, ujion this occasion, in certain books, of a bravado, in having opened the trenches to the music of viohns ; but these writers were ignorant that this was the custom of Spain." — -Age of Louis XIV., chap. 2. t Anthonj-, marechal of France. He appears to have quitted the army in 1672. " Le Due de la I'^euillade est colonel du regiment des gardes siir la demission volontaire du Marechal de Grammont." — He- naiilt's History of France. He died 1678. (175) 176 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. place and the governor, ordered the trenches to be mounted at noonday by his own regiment, a' the head of which marched four-and-twenty fiddlers, as if it had been to a wedding. " Night approaching, we were all in high spirits : onr violins were playing soft airs, and we were comfortably regaling ourselves : God knows how we were joking about the poor governor and his fortifications, both of which we promised ourselves to take in less than twenty- four hours. This was going on in the trenches, when we heard an ominous cry from the ramparts, repeated two or three times, of, 'Alerte on the walls ! ' This cry was followed by a discharge of cannon and musketry, and this discharge by a vigorous sally, which, after hav- ing filled up the trenches, pursued us as far as our grand guard. "The next day Gregorio Brice sent by a trumpet a present of ice and fruit to the Prince de Conde, humbly beseeching his highness to excuse his not returning the serenade which he was pleased to favor him with, as unfortunately he had no violins ; but that if the music of last night was not disagreeable to him, he would en- deavor to continue it as long as he did him the honor to remain before the place. The Spaniard was as good as his word ; and as soon as we heard, 'Alerte on the walls,' we were sure of a sally, that cleared our trenches, de- stroyed our works, and killed the best of our officers and soldiers. The prince was so piqued at it, that, contrary to the opinion of the general officers, he obstinately per- sisted in carr}dng on a siege which was like to ruin his army, and which he was at last forced to quit in a hurry. "As our troops were retiring, Don Gregorio, far from giving himself those airs which governors generally do on such occasions, made no other sally than sending a respectful compliment to the prince. Signor Brice set out not long after for Madrid, to give an account of his MEMOIRvS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 177 conduct, and to receive the recompense he had merited. Your majesty perhaps will be desirous to know what reception poor Brice met with, after having performed the most brilliant action the Spaniards could boast of in all the war — he was confined by the inquisition." "How!" said the queen dowager, "confined by the inquisition for his services?" "Not altogether for his services," said the Chevalier ; "but without any regard to his services, he was treated in the manner I have men- tioned for a little affair of gallantry, which I shall relate to the king presently. "The campaign of Catalonia being tluis ended, we were returning home, not overloaded with laurels ; but as the Prince de Conde had laid ixp a great store on fonner occasions, and as he had still great projects in his head, he soon forgot this trifling misfortune : we did notliing 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 all over France, in order to prevent others more severe ; however, we gained nothing by it, for notwithstanding we treated ourselves freely in our own ballads, others were composed in Paris in which we were 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 Poussatin, in a little black jacket, danced in the middle of this company, as if he was really mad. I immediately recog- nized him for my countryman, from his manner of skip- ping and frisking about : the prince was charmed with his humor and activity. After the dance, I sent for him, and inquired who he was : 'A poor priest, at yottr ser- vice, my lord,' said he: 'my name is Poussatin, and Bearn is my native country : I was going into Catalonia to serve in the infantry, for, God be praised, I can march very well on foot ; but since the war is happily con- 12 178 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. eluded, if your lordship pleases to take me into your service, I would follow you everywhere, and serve you faithfully.' 'Monsieur Poussatin,' said I, 'my lordship has no great occasion for a chaplain ; but since you are so well disposed towards me, I will take you into my service. ' "The Prince de Conde, who was present at this con- versation, was overjoyed at my having a chaplain. As poor Poussatin was in a very tattered condition, I had no time to provide him with a proper habit at Perpignan ; but giving him a spare livery of one of the Marshal de Grammont's servants, I made him get up behind the prince's coach, who was like to die with laughing every time he looked at poor Poussatin' s uncanonical mien in a yellow livery. ' 'As soon as we arrived at Paris, the story was told to the queen, who at first expressed some surprise at it : this, however, did not prevent her from wishing to see my chaplain dance ; for in Spain it is not altogether so strange to see ecclesiastics dance, as to see them in livery. ' ' Poussatin performed wonders before the queen ; but as he danced with great sprightliness, she could not bear the odor which his violent motions diffused around her room : the ladies likewise began to pray for relief ; for he had almost entirely got the better of all the perfumes and essences with which they were fortified : Poussatin, nevertheless, retired with a great deal of applause, and some louis d'or. " Some time afterwards I procured a small benefice in the country for my chaplain, and I have since been in- formed that Poussatin preached with the same ease in his village as he danced at the wedding of his parish- ioners. ' ' The king was exceedingly diverted at Poussatin's history ; and the queen was not much hurt at his having been put in livery : the treatment of Gregorio Brice MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 179 offended her far more ; and being desirous to justify the court of Spain, with respect to so cruel a proceeding : " Chevalier de Grammont, " said she, " what heresy did Governor Brice wish to introduce into the state ? What crime against religion was he charged with, that he was confined in the inquisition?" "Madam," said he, "the history is not very proper to be related before your majesty : it was a little amorous frolic, ill-timed indeed ; but poor Brice meant no harm : a schoolboy would not have been whipped for such a fault in the most severe college in France ; as it was only for giving some proofs of his affection to a young Spanish fair one, who had fixed her eyes upon him on a solemn occasion." The king desired to know the particulars of the ad- venture ; and the Chevalier gratified his curiosity as soon as the queen and the rest of the court were out of hear- ing. It was very entertaining to hear him tell a story ; but it was very disagreeable to differ with him, either in competition, or in raillery: it is true that at that time there were few persons at the English court who had merited his indignation : Russell was sometimes the subject of his ridicule, but he treated him far more tenderly than he usually did a rival. This Russell was one of the most furious dancers in all England, I mean, for country dances : he had a col- lection of two or three hundred in print, all of which he danced at sight; and to prove that he was not an old man, he sometimes danced until he was almost exhausted : his mode of dancing was like that of his clothes, for they both had been out of fashion full twenty years. The Chevalier de Grammont was very sensible that he was very much in love ; but though he saw very well that it only rendered him more ridiculous, yet he felt some concern at the information he received, of his in- tention of demanding ]\Iiss Hamilton in marriage ; but his concern did not last long. Russell, being upon the point of setting out on a 180 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. journey, thought it was proper to acquaint his mistress with his intentions before his departure. The Chevalier de Grammont was a great obstacle to the interview he was desirous of obtaining of her ; but being one day sent for, to go and play at Lady Castleniaine's, Russell seized the opportunity, and addressing himself to Miss Hamil- ton, with less embarrassment than is usual on such occa- sions, he made his declaration to her in the following manner : "I am brother to the Earl of Bedford : I com- mand the regiment of guards : I have three thousand pounds a year, and fifteen thousand in ready money : all which, madam, I come to present to you, along with my person. One present, I agree, is not worth much with- out the other, and therefore I put them together. I am advised to go to some of the watering places for some- thing of an asthma, which, in all probability, cannot continue much longer, as I have had it for these last twenty years : if you look upon me as worthy of the hap- piness of belonging to you, I shall propose it to your father, to whom I did not think it right to apply before I was acquainted with your sentiments : my nephew William is at present entirely ignorant of my intention ; but I believe he will not be sorry for it, though he will thereby see himself deprived of a pretty considerable estate ; for he has great affection for me, and besides, he has a pleasure in paying his respects to you since he has perceived my attachment. I am very much pleased that he should make his court to me, by the attention he pa} S to you ; for he did nothing but squander his money upon that coquette Middleton, while at present he is at no expense, though he frequents the best company in England." Miss Hamilton had much difficulty to suppress her laughter during this harangue : however, she told him that she thought herself much honored by his intentions towards her, and still more obliged to him for consulting her, before he made any overtures to her relations : "It MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 181 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 par- ticulars of this conversation, endeavored, as well as he could, to be entertained with it ; though there were cer- tain circumstances in the declaration, notwithstanding the absiirdity of others, which did not fail to give him some uneasiness. Upon the whole, he was not sorry for Russell's departure; and, assuming an air of pleasantry, he went to relate to the king how Heaven had favored him by delivering him from so dangerous a rival. "He is gone then, Chevalier," said the king. "Certainly, sir," said he ; "I had the honor to see him embark in a coach, with his asthma, and country equipage, his perruque a calotte, neatly tied with a yellow riband, and his old-fashioned hat covered with oil-skin, which be- comes him uncommonly well : therefore, I have only to contend with William Russell, whom he leaves as his resident with Miss Hamilton ; and as for him, I neither fear him upon his own account, nor his uncle's ; he is too much in love himself to pay attention to the interests of another ; and as he has but one method of promoting his own, which is by sacrificing the portrait, or some love-letters of Mrs. Middleton, I have it easily in my power to counteract him in such kind of favors, though I confess I have pretty well paid for them." "Since your affairs proceed so prosperously with the Russells," said the king, "I will acquaint you that you are delivered from another rival, much more dangerous, if he were not already married : my brother has lately fallen in love with Lady Chesterfield." "How many 182 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. blessings at once !" exclaimed the Chevalier de Gram- mont : "I have so many obligations to him for this in- constancy, that I would willingly serve him in his new amour, if Hamilton was not his rival : nor will your majesty take it ill, if I promote the interests of my mis- tress's brother, rather than those of your majesty's brother. " " Hamilton, however, ' ' said the king, ' ' does not stand so much in need of assistance, in affairs of this nature, as the Duke of York ; but I know Lord Chester- field is of such a disposition, that he will not suffer men to quarrel about his wife, with the same patience as the complaisant Shrewsbury ; though he well deserves the same fate." Here follows a true description of Lord Chesterfield. * He had a very agreeable face, a fine head of hair, an indifferent shape, and a worse air ; he was not, however, deficient in wit : a long residence in Italy had made him ceremonious in his commerce with men, and jealous in his connection with women : he had been much hated by the king, because he had been much beloved by Lady Castlemaine : it was reported that he had been in her good graces prior to her marriage ; and as neither of them denied it, it was the more generally believed. He had paid his devoirs to the eldest daughter of the Duke of Onnond, while his heart was still taken up with his former passion : the king's love for Lady Castle- maine, and the advancement he expected from such an alliance, made him press the match with as much ardor as if he had been passionately in love : he had therefore * Philip, the second Earl of Chesterfield. He was constituted, in 1662, lord-chamberlain to the queen, and colonel of a regiment of foot, June 13, 1667. On November 29, 1679, he was appointed lord- warden and chief-justice of the king's forests on this side Trent, and sworn of the privy-council, January 26, 1680. On November 6, 1682, he was made colonel of the third regiment of foot, which, with the rest of his prefer- ments, he resigned on the accession of James II. He lived to the age of upwards of 80, and died January 28, 1713, at his house, in Blooms- bury-square. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 183 married Lady Chesterfield without loving her, aud had lived some time with her in such coolness as to leave her no room to doubt of his indifference. As she was en- dowed with great sensibility and delicacy, she suffered at this contempt : she was at first much affected with his behavior, and afterwards enraged at it ; and, when he began to give her proofs of his affection, she had the pleasure of convincing him of her indifference. They were upon this footing, when she resolved to cure Hamilton, as she had lately done her husband, of all his remaining tenderness for Lady Castlemaine. For her it was no difficult undertaking ; the conversation of the one was disagreeable, from the unpolished state of her manners, her ill-timed pride, her uneven temper, and extravagant humors : Lady Chesterfield, on the contrary, knew how to heighten her charms with all the bewitch- ing attractions in the power of a woman to invent who wishes to make a conquest. Besides all this, she had greater opportunities of mak- ing advances to him than to any other : she lived at the Duke of Ormond's, at Whitehall, where Hamilton, as was said before, had free admittance at all hours : her extreme coldness, or rather the disgust which she showed for her husband's returning affection, wakened his nat- ural inclination to jealousy : he suspected that she could not so very suddenly pass from anxiety to indifference for him, without some secret object of a new attachment ; and, according to the maxim of all jealous husbands, he immediately put in practice all his experience and in- dustry, in order to make a discovery, which was to de- stroy his own happiness. Hamilton, who knew his disposition, was, on the other hand, upon his guard, and the more he advanced in his intrigue, the more attentive was he to remove every degree of suspicion from the earl's mind : he pre- tended to make him his confidant, in the most unguarded and open manner, of his passion for Lady Castlemaine : 184 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. he complained of her caprice, and most earnestly desired his advice how to succeed with a person whose affections he alone had entirely possessed. Chesterfield, who was flattered with this discourse, promised him his protection with greater sincerity than it had been demanded : Hamilton, therefore, was no further embarrassed than to preserve Lady Chesterfield's reputation, who, in his opinion, declared herself rather too openly in his favor : but whilst he was diligently employed in regulating, within the rules of discretion, the partiality she expressed for him, and in conjuring her to restrain her glances within bounds, she was re- ceiving those of the Duke of York ; and, what is more, made them favorable returns. He thought that he had perceived it, as well as every one besides ; but he thought likewise, that all the world was deceived as well as himself : how could he trust his own eyes, as to what those of Lady Chesterfield be- trayed for this new rival ? He could not think it prob- able, that a woman of her disposition could relish a man whose manners had a thousand times been the subject of their private ridicule ; but what he judged still more improbable was, that she should begin another intrigue before she had given the finishing stroke to that in which her own advances had engaged her : however, he began to observe her with more circumspection, when he found by fiis discoveries, that if she did not deceive him, at least the desire of doing so was not wanting. This he took the liberty of telling her of ; but she answered him in so high a strain, and treated what he said so much like a phantom of his own imagination, that he appeared confused without being convinced : all the satisfaction he could procure from her, was her telling him, in a haughty manner, that such unjust reproaches as his ought to have had a better foundation. Lord Chesterfield had taken the same alarm ; and being convinced, from the observations he had made, that he MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 185 had found out the happy lover who had gained possession of his lady's heart, he was satisfied ; and without teas- ing her with unnecessary reproaches, he only waited for an opportunity to confound her, before he took his measures. After all, how can we account for Lady Chesterfield's conduct, unless we attribute it to the disease incident to most coquettes, who, charmed with superiority, put in practice every art to rob another of her conquest, and spare nothing to preserve it. But before we enter into the particulars of this adven- ture, let us take a retrospect of the amours of his Royal Highness, prior to the declaration of his marriage, and particularly of what immediately preceded this declara- tion. It is allowable sometimes to drop the thread of a narrative, when real facts, not generally known, give such a variety upon the digression as to render it ex- cusable : let us see then how those things happened. The Duke of York's marriage, * with the chancellor's daughter, was deficient in none of those circumstances which render contracts of this nature valid in the eye of heaven : the mutual inclination, the formal ceremony, witnesses, and every essential point of matrimony, had been observed. Though the bride was no perfect beauty, yet, as there were none at the court of Holland who eclipsed her, the duke, during the first endearments of matrimony, was so far from repenting of it, that he seemed only to wish for the king's restoration that he might have an oppor- tunity of declaring it with splendor ; but when he saw himself enjoying a rank which placed him so near the throne ; when the possession of Miss Hyde afforded him * The material facts in this narrative are confirmed by Lord Claren- don. — Continuation of his Life, p. 33. It is difficult to speak of the persons concerned in this infamous transaction without some degree of asperit}-, notwithstanding they are, by a strange perversion of language, styled, all men of honor. 18G MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. no new charms ; when England, so abounding in beau- ties, displayed all that was charming and lovely in the court of the king, his brother ; and when he considered he was the only prince, who, from such superior eleva- tion, had descended so low, he began to reflect upon it. On the one hand, his marriage appeared to him particu- larly ill suited in every respect : he recollected that Jer- myn had not engaged him in an intimacy with Miss Hyde, until he had convinced him, by several 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 impossibility of obtaining the king's consent to such an act, which for a thousand reasons he would be obliged to refuse. On the other hand, the tears and despair of poor Miss Hyde presented themselves ; and still more than that, he felt a remorse of conscience, the scruples of which began from that time to rise up against him. In the midst of this perplexity he opened his heart to Ivord Falmouth, and consulted with him what method he ought to pursue: he could not have applied to a better man for his own interests, nor to a worse for Miss Hyde's; for at first, Falmouth maintained not only that he was not married, but that it was even impossible that he could ever have formed such a thought; that any marriage was invalid for him, which was made without the king's con- sent, even if the party was a suitable match: but that it was a mere jest, even to think of the daughter of an insig- nificant lawyer, whom the favor of his sovereign had lately made a peer of the realm, without any noble blood, and chancellor, without any capacity ; that as for his scruples, he had only to give ear to some gentlemen whom he could introduce, who would thoroughly inform him of Miss Hyde's conduct before he became acquainted MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 187 with her; and provided he did not tell them that he really was married, he would soon have sufficient grounds to come to a determination. The Duke of York consented, and Lord Falmouth, having assembled both his council and his witnesses, conducted them to his Royal Highness' s cabinet, after having instructed them how to act: these gentlemen were the Earl of Arran, Jermyn, Talbot, and Killegrew, all men of honor ; but who infinitely preferred the Duke of York's interest to ]\Iiss Hyde's reputation, and who, besides, were greatly dissatisfied, as well as the whole court, at the insolent authority of the prime minister. The duke having told them, after a sort of preamble, that although they could not be ignorant of his affection for ]\Iiss Hyde, yet they might be unacquainted with the engagements his tenderness for her had induced him to contract; that he thought himself obliged to perform all the promises he had made her; but as the innocence of persons of her age was generally exposed to court scandal, and as certain reports, whether false or true, had been spread abroad on the subject of her conduct, he con- jured them as his friends, and charged them upon their duty, to tell him sincerely jeverything they knew upon the subject, since he was resolved to make their evidence the rule of his conduct towards her. They all appeared rather reserved at first, and seemed not to dare to give their opinions upon an affair of so serious and delicate a nature ; but the Duke of York having renewed his en- treaties, each began to relate the particulars of what he knew, and perhaps of more than he knew, of poor Miss Hyde ; nor did they omit any circumstance necessary to strengthen the evidence. For instance the Earl of Arran, who spoke first, deposed, that in the gallery at Honslaer- dyk, where the Countess of Ossory, his sister-in-law, and Jermyn, were playing at nine-pins, Miss Hyde, pretend- ing to be sick, retired to a chamber at the end of 188 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. the gallery ; that he, the deponent, had followed her, and having cut her lace, to give a greater probability to the pretence of the vapors, he had acquitted himself to the best of his abilities, both to assist and to console her. Talbot said, that she had made an appointment with him in the chancellor's cabinet, while he was in council; and, that, not paying so much attention to what was upon the table as to what they were engaged in, they had spilled a bottle full of ink upon a despatch of four pages, and that the king's monkey, which was blamed for this accident, had been a long time in disgrace. Jermyn mentioned many places where he had received long and favorable audiences: however, all these articles of accusation amounted only to some delicate familiari- ties, or at most, to what is generally denominated the innocent part of an intrigue; but Killegrew, who wished to surpass these trivial depositions, boldly declared that he had had the honor of being tipon the most intimate terms with her: he was of a sprightly and witty humor, and had the art of telling a story in the most entertain- ing manner, by the graceful and natural turn he could give it: he affirmed that he had found the critical minute in a certain closet built over the water, for a purpose very different from that of giving ease to the pains of love: that three or four swans had been witnesses to his happiness, and might perhaps have been witnesses to the happiness of many others, as the lady frequently repaired to that place, and was particularly delighted with it. The Duke of York found this last accusation greatly out of bounds, being convinced he himself had sufficient proofs of the contrary : he therefore returned thanks to these officious informers for their frankness, ordered them to be silent for the future upon what they had been telling him, and immediately passed into the king's apartment. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 189 As soon as he had entered the cabinet, Lord Fahnoiith, 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 oiit, that they no longer doubted that the result had been unfavorable for poor Miss Hyde. Lord Fal- mouth began to be affected for her disgrace, and to relent that he had been concerned in it, when the Duke of York told him and the Earl of Ossory to meet him in about an hour's time at the chancellor's. They were rather surprised that he should have the cruelty himself to announce such a melancholy piece of news : they foimd his Royal Highness at the appointed hour in Miss Hyde's chamber: a few tears trickled down her cheeks, which she endeavored to restrain. The chancellor, leaning against the wall, appeared to them to be puffed up with something, which they did not doubt was rage and despair. The Duke of York said to them, with that serene and pleasant countenance with which meu generally announce good news: "As you are the two men of the court whom I most esteem, lam desirous you should first have the honor of paying your com- pliments to the Duchess of York: there she is." Surprise was of no use, and astonishment was unsea- sonable on the present occasion : they were, however, so greatly possessed with both surprise and astonishment, that in order to conceal it, they immediately fell on their knees to kiss her hand, which she gave to them with as much majesty as if she had been used to it all her life. The next day the news was made public, and the whole court was eager to pay her that respect, from a sense of duty, which in the end became very sincere. The petits-maitres who had spoken against her, seeing their intentions disappointed, were not a little embar- rassed. Women are seldom accustomed to forgive 190 MEMOIRS OP COUNT GRAMMONl*. injuries of this nature ; and, if they promise themselves the pleasure of revenge, when they gain the power, they seldom forget it : in the present case, however, the fears of these petits-maitres were their onl)- punishment. The Duchess of York, being fully informed of all that was said in the cabinet concerning her, instead of show- ing the least resentment, studied to distinguish, by all manner of kindness and good offices, those who had at- tacked her in so sensible a part ; nor did she ever mention it to them but in order to praise their zeal, and to tell them "that nothing was a greater proof of the attachment of a man of honor, than his being more solic- itous for the interest of his friend or master, than for his own reputation: " a remarkable example of prudence and moderation, not only for the fair sex, but even for those who value themselves most upon their philosophy among the men. The Duke of York, having quieted his conscience by the declaration of his marriage, thought that he was en- titled, by this generous effort, to give way a little to his inconstancy: he therefore immediately seized upon what- ever he could first lay his hands upon : this was Lady Carnegy, * who had been in several other hands. She was still tolerably handsome, and her disposition, natu- rally inclined to tenderness, did not oblige her new lover long to languish. Everything coincided with their wishes for some time : Lord Carnegy, her husband, was in Scotland ; but his father dying suddenly, he as sud- denly returned with the title of Southesk, which his wife detested ; but which she took more patiently than she received the news of his return. Some private inti- mation had been given him of the honor that was done him in his absence : nevertheless, he did not show his jealousy at first ; but, as he was desirous to be satisfied * Anne, daughter of William, Duke of Hamilton, and wife of Robert Carnegy, Earl of Southesk. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 191 of the reality of the fact, he kept a strict watch over his wife's actions. The Duke of York and her ladyship had for some time been itpon such terms of intimacy as not to pass their time in frivolous amusements; however, the husband's return obliged them to maintain some de- corum: he therefore never went to her house, but in form, that is to say, alwaj's accompanied by some friend or other, to give his amours at least the appearance of a visit. About this time Talbot * returned from Portugal : this connection had taken place during his absence; and with- out knowing who Lady Southesk was, he had been in- formed that his master was in love with her. A few days after his arrival, he was carried, merely to keep up appearances, to her house by the duke; and after being introduced, and some compliments having been paid on both sides, he thought it his duty to give his Royal Highness an opportimity to pay his compliments, and accordingly retired into the ante-chamber, which looked into the street, and placed himself at the window to view the people as they passed. He was one of the best meaning men in the world on such occasions ; but was so subject to forgetfulness, and absence of mind, that he once forgot, and left behind him at London a complimentary letter which the duke had given him for the Infanta of Portugal, and never recollected it till he was going to his audience. He stood sentry, as wc have before said, very attentive to his instructions, when he saw a coach stop at the door, without being in the least concerned at it, and still less, at a man whom he saw get out of it, and whom he imme- diately heard coming up-stairs. The devil, who ought to be civil upon such occasions, forgot himself in the present instance, and brought up Lord Southesk in propria persond: his Royal Highness's equipage had been sent home, because my lady had as- * Afterwards Duke of Tyrconiiel. 192 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. sured him that her husband was gone to see a bear and a bull baiting, an entertainment in which he took great delieht, and from whence he seldom returned until it was very late; so that South esk, not seeing any equipage at the door, little imagined that he had such good com- pany in his house ; but if he was surprised to see Talbot carelessly lolling in his wife's ante-chamber, his surprise was soon over. Talbot, who had not seen him since they were in Flanders, and never supposing that he had changed his name: "Welcome, Carnegy^ welcome, my good fellow," said he, giving him his hand; "where the devil have you been, that I have never been able to set eyes on you since we were at Brussels ? What busi- ness brought you here ? Do you likewise wish to see 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, there- fore, attended him down-stairs as his friend ; and, as his humble servant, advised him to seek for a mistress else- where. Southesk, not knowing what else to do at that time, returned to his coach ; and Talbot, overjoyed at the adventure, impatiently waited for the duke's return, that he might acquaint him with it ; but he was very much surprised to find that the story afforded no pleas- ure to those who had the principal share in it ; and his greatest concern was, that Carnegy had changed his name, as if only to draw him into such a confidence. This accident broke off a commerce which the Duke of York did not much regret ; and indeed it was happy for him that he became indifferent ; for the traitor Southesk meditated a revenge,* whereby, without using * Bishop Burnet, taking notice of the Duke of York's amours, says : MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 193 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 re- venge was onh' half completed ; for after he had gone through every remedy to get qiiit of his disease, his lady did but return him his present, having no more connection with the person for whom it was so indus- triously prepared. Lady Robarts * was then in the zenith of her glory ; "A storj' was set about, and generallj' believed, that the Earl of South- esk, that had married a daughter of the Duke of Hamilton, suspecting some familiarities between the duke and his wife, had taken a sure method to procure a disease to himself, which he communicated to his wife, and was, by that means, sent round till it came to the duchess. Lord Southesk was, for some years, not ill pleased to have this believed. It looked like a peculiar strain of revenge, with which he seemed much delighted. But I know he has, to some of his friends, denied the whole of the stor}- very solemnly." — History of his Own Times, vol. i-> P- 3^9- It is worthy of notice that the passage in the text was omitted in most editions of Grammont, and retained in that of Straw- berry-hill, in 1772. * Lord Orford says this lady was Sarah, daughter of John Bodville of Bodville castle, in Caernarvon.shire, wife of Robert Robarts, who died in the lifetime of his father, and was eldest son of John, Earl of Radnor. This, however, may be doubted. There was no Earl of Rad- nor until the year 1679, which was after the date of most, if not all, the transactions related in this work ; consequently, no other person, who could be called Lord Robarts, than John, the second lord, who was created Earl of Radnor, with whose character several of the quali- ties here enumerated, particularly his age, moroseness, etc., will be found to agree. Supposing this to be admitted, the lady will be Isa- bella, daughter of Sir John Smith Knight, second wife of the above John, Lord Robarts, whose character is thus portrayed by Lord Clar- endon : " Though of good understanding, he was of so morose a nature, that it was no easy matter to treat with him. He had some pedantic parts of learning, which made his other parts of judgment the wor.st. lie was naturally proud and imperious, which humor was increased by an ill education ; for, excepting some 3 ears spent in the Inns of Court, he might very justly be said to have been born and bred in Cornwall. When lord-deputy in Ireland, he received tlie information of the chief 13 194 MEMOIRS OF COl'NT GRAMMONT. her beauty was striking; yet, notwithstanding the bright- ness of the finest complexion, with all the bloom of yonth, and with every requisite for inspiring desire, she nevertheless was not attractive. The Duke of York, however, would probably have been successful if diffi- culties, almost insurmountable, had not disappointed his good intentions: Lord Robarts, her husband, was an old, snarling, troublesome, peevish fellow, in love with her to distraction, and to complete her misery, a perpetual attendant on her person. She perceived his Royal Highness's attachment to her, and seemed as if she was inclined to be grateful : this redoubled his eagerness, and every outward mark of tenderness he could possibly show her ; but the watchful husband redoubling his zeal and assiduity, as he found the approaches advance, every art was practised to ren- der him tractable : several attacks were made upon his avarice and his ambition. Those who possessed the greatest share of his confidence, insinuated to him that it was his own fault if Lady Robarts, who was so worthy of being at court, was not received into some considerable post, either about the queen or the duchess : he was offered to be made Lord Lieutenant of the county where his estate was ; or to have the management of the Duke of York's revenues in Ireland, of which he should have the entire disposal, provided he immediately set out to take possession of his charge ; and having accomplished it, he might return as soon as ever he thought proper. persons there so negligently, and gave 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 off 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 Inm to have main- humors which were very intolerable ; they who were but little aocjuainted with him took him to be a man of much knowledge, and called his morosity gravity." — Continuation of Clarendon, p. 102. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 195 He perfectly well understood the meaning of these proposals, and was fnlh* apjDrised of the advantages he might reap from them : in vain did ambition and avarice hold out their allurements ; he was deaf to all their temptations, nor conld ever the old fellow be persuaded to be made a cuckold. It is not always an aversion to, or a dread of this distinction, which preserves us from it: of this her husband was very sensible ; therefore, under the pretence of a pilgrimage to Saint Winifred, the vir- gin and martyr, who was said to cure women of barren- ness, he did not rest, tuitil the highest mountains in Wales were between his wife and the person who had designed to perform this miracle in London, after his departure. The duke was for some time entirely taken up with the pleasures of the chase, and only now and then en- gaged in those of love ; but his taste having undergone a change in this j^articular, and the remembrance of Lady Robarts wearing off by degrees, his eyes and wishes were turned towards Miss Brook ; and it was in the height of this pursuit that Lady Chesterfield threw herself into his arms, as we shall see by resuming the sequel of her ad- ventures. The Earl of Bristol,* ever restless and ambitious, had * George Digbj-. The account here given of the practices of this nobleman receives confirmation from Lord Clarendon, who observes of him, ''that he had left no way unattempted to render himself gracious to the king, by saj ing and doing all that might be acceptable unto him, and contriving such meetings and jollities as he was pleased with." — Continuation of his Life, p. 208. Lord Orford says of him, that "his life was cue contradiction. He wrote against popery, and embraced it ; he was a zealous opposer of the court, and a sacrifice to it ; was conscientiously converted in the midst of his prosecution of Lord Strafford, and was most unconscientiously a prosecutor of Lord Clarendon. With great parts, he always hurt himself and his friends ; wth romantic braverj-, he was always an unsuccessful commander. He spoke for the Test Act, though a Roman Catholic, and addicted himself to astrology on the birthda}- of true philosojihy." — Catalogue of Royal and Xoblc Aullioi s, vol. ii., p. 25. The histories of England 196 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. put in practice every art to possess himself of the king' s favor. As this is the same Digby whom Count Bussy mentions in his annals, it will be sufficient to say that he was not at all changed : he knew that love and pleasure had possession of a master, whom he himself governed, in defiance of the chancellor ; thus he was continually giving entertainments at his house ; and luxury and elegance seemed to rival each other in those nocturnal feasts, which always lead to other enjo}-ments. The two Miss Brooks, his relations, were always of those parties ; they were both formed by nature to excite love in others, as well as to be susceptible of it themselves ; they were just what the king wanted : the earl, from this com- mencement, was beginning to entertain a good opinion of his project, when Lady Castlemaine, who had lately gained entire possession of the king's heart, was not in a humor, at that time, to share it with another, as she did very indiscreetly afterwards, despising Miss Stewart. As soon, therefore, as she received intimation of these secret practices, under pretence of attending the king in his parties, she entirely disconcerted them ; so that the earl was obliged to lay aside his projects, and IMiss Brook to discontinue her advances. The king did not even dare to think any more on this subject ; but his brother was pleased to look after what he neglected; and Miss Brook accepted the offer of his heart, until it pleased heaven to dispose of her otherwise, which happened soon after in the following manner. Sir John Denham,* loaded with wealth as well as abound with the adventures of this inconsistent nobleman, who died, neither loved nor regretted by anj' part}-, in the } ear 1676. * That Sir John Denham "had passed his 3'outh 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 be erroneous. He was not loaded with years when he died, if that statement is true ; and so far from being seventy-nine when he married Miss Brook, he had not attained the age of more than fifty -three when he died. In this MEMOIRS OF COUNT CiRAM.MONT. 197 years, had passed his youth in the midst of those pleas- ures which people at that age indulge in without re- straint ; he was one of the brightest geniuses England ever produced, for wit and humor, and for brilliancy of composition : satirical and free in his poems, he spared neither frigid writers, nor jealous hiisbands, nor even their wives: every' part abounded with the most poignant wit, and the most entertaining stories ; but his most delicate and sj^irited raillery turned generally against matrimony ; and, as if he wished to confirm, by his own example, the truth of what he had written in his youth, he married, at the age of sevent\ -nine, this Miss Brook of whom we are speaking, who was only eighteen. The Duke of York had rather neglected her for some time before ; but the circumstance of so unequal a match rekindled his ardor ; and she, on her part, suffered him to entertain hopes of an approaching bliss, which a thousand considerations had opposed before her mar- riage : she wished to belong to the court ; and for the promise of being made lady of the bedchamber to the duchess, she was upon the point of making him another promise, or of immediately performing it, if required, when, in the middle of this treat}-, Lady Chesterfield was tempted, by her evil genius, to rob her of her conquest, in order to distiirb all the world. However, as Lady Chesterfield could not see the Duke of York, except in public assemblies, she was under the necessity of making the most extravagant advances, in order to .seduce him from his former connection ; and as he was the most unguarded ogler of his time, the whole court w'as informed of the intrigue before it was well begun. 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 dauj^h- ter. Sir John died 19th INIarch, 166S, and was buried in Westminster- abbey. 198 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Those who appeared the most attentive to their con- duct were not the least interested in it. Hamilton and Lord Chesterfield watched them narrowly ; but Lady Denham, vexed that Lady Chesterfield should have stepped in before her, took the liberty of railing against her rival with the greatest bitterness. Hamilton had hitherto flattered himself that vanity alone had engaged Lady Chesterfield in this adventure ; but he was soon undeceived, whatever her indifference might have been when she first commenced this intrigue. We often pro- ceed farther than we at first intended, when we indulge ourselves in trifling liberties which we think of no con- sequence ; for though perhaps the heart takes no 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 polite- ness and magnificence which the inclinations of a prince naturally addicted to tenderness and pleasure could sug- gest : the beauties were desirous of charming, and the men endeavored to please : all studied to set themselves off to the best advantage : some distinguished themselves by dancing ; others by show and magnificence ; some by their wit, many by their amoiirs, but few by their constancy. There was a certain Italian at court, famous for the guitar : he had a genius for music, and he was the only man who could make anything of the guitar : his style of play was so full of grace and tenderness, that he would have given harmony to the most discordant instruments. The truth is, nothing was so difficult as to play like this foreigner. The king's relish for his compositions had broiight the instrument so much into vogue, that every person played upon it, well or ill ; and you were as sure to see a guitar on a lady's toilet as rouge or patches. The Duke of York played upon it tolerably well, and the Earl of Arran like Francisco himself This Francisco had composed a saraband, which either charmed or infatuated every person ; for the whole MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 199 giiitarery at court were trying at it ; and God knows what an universal strumming there was. The Duke of York, pretending not to be perfect in it, desired Lord Arran to play it to him. Lady Chesterfield had the best guitar in England. The Earl of Arran, who was de- sirous of playing his best, conducted his Royal Highness to his sister's apartments : she was lodged at court, at her father's, the Duke of Ormond's ; and this wonderful guitar was lodged there too. Whether this visit had been preconcerted or not, I do not pretend to say ; but it is certain that they found both the lady and the guitar at home : they likewise found there Lord Chesterfield, so much surprised at this unexpected visit, that it was a considerable time before he thought of rising from his seat to receive them with due respect. Jealousy, like a malignant vapor, now seized upon his brain : a thousand suspicions, blacker than ink, took possession of his imagination, and were continually in- creasing ; for, whilst the brother played upon the guitar to the duke, the sister ogled and accompanied him with her eyes, as if the coast had been clear, and no enemy to observe them. This saraband was at least repeated twenty times : the duke declared it was played to per- fection : Lady Chesterfield found fault with the compo- sition ; but her husband, who clearly perceived that he was the person played upon, thought it a most detestable piece. However, though he was in the last agony at being obliged to curb his passion while others gave a free scope to theirs, he was resoh^ed to find out the drift of the visit ; but it was not in his power : for, having the honor to be chamberlain to the queen, a messenger came to re- quire his immediate attendance on Her IVIajesty. His first thought was to pretend sickness : the second to sus- pect that the queen, who sent for him at such an un- seasonable time, was in the plot ; but at last, after all the extravagant ideas of a suspicious man, and all the irreso- lutions of a jealous husband, he was obliged to go. 200 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. We may easily imagine what his state of mind was when he arrived at the palace. Alarms are to the jealous what disasters are to the unfortunate : they seldom come alone, but form a series of persecution. He was informed that he was sent for to attend the queen at an audience she gave to seven or eight Muscovite ambassadors: he had scarce begun to curse the Muscovites, when his brother- in-law appeared, and drew upon himself all the impre- cations he bestowed upon the embassy : he no longer doubted his being in the plot with the two persons he had left together, and in his heart sincerely wished him such recompense for his good offices as such good offices deserved. It was with great difficiilty that he restrained himself from immediately acquainting him what was his opinion of such conduct : he thought that what he had already seen was a sufficient proof of his wife's infi- delity ; but before the end of the very same day, some circumstances occurred which increased his suspicions, and persuaded him that they had taken advantage of his absence, and of the honorable officiousness of his brother- in-law. He passed, however, that night with tranquil- lity ; but the next morning, being reduced to the neces- sity either of biu'sting or giving vent to his sorrows and conjectures, he did nothing but think and walk about the room until Park-time. He went to court, seemed very busy, as if seeking for some person or other, imag- ining that people guessed at the subject of his uneasi- ness : he avoided everybody, but at length meeting with Hamilton, he thought he was the very man that he wanted ; and, having desired him to take an airing with him in Hyde Park, he took him i;p in his coach, and they arrived at the Ring, without a word having passed between them. Hamilton, who saw him as yellow as jealousy itself, and particularly thoughtful, imagined that he had just discovered what all the world had perceived long before ; when Chesterfield, after a broken, insignificant preamble, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 201 asked him how he succeeded with Lady Castlemaine. Hamilton, who very well saw that he meant nothing by this question, nevertheless thanked him ; and as he was thinking of an answer: "Your consin," said the earl, "is extremely coquettish, and I have some reason to snppose she is not so prndent as she ought to be." Ham- ilton thought the last charge a little too severe ; and as he was endeavoring to refute it : " Good God !" said my lord, "you see, as well as the whole court, what airs she gives herself: husbands are always the last people that are spoken to about those affairs that concern them the most ; but they are not alwa}'s the last to perceive it themselves : though you have made me your confidant in other matters, yet I am not at all surprised you have concealed this from me ; but as I flatter myself with hav- ing some share in j-our esteem, I should be sorry you should think me such a fool as to be incapable of seeing, though I am so complaisant as not to express my senti- ments : nevertheless, I find that affairs are now carried on with such barefaced boldness, that at length I find I shall be forced to take some course or other. God for- bid that I should act the ridiculous part of a jealoiis hus- band : the character is odious ; but then I do not intend, through an excess of patience, to be made the jest of the town. Judge, therefore, from what I am going to tell you, whether I ought to sit down unconcerned, or whether I ought to take measures for the preservation of my honor. "His Royal Highness honored me yesterday by a visit to my wife." Hamilton started at this beginning. " Yes," continued the other, " he did give himself that trouble, and Lord Arran took upon himself that of bringing him: do not you wonder tliat a man of his birth should act such a part ? What advancement can he ex- pect from one who employs him in such base services? But we have long known him to be one of the silliest creatures in England, with his guitar, and his other 202 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. whims and follies." Chesterfield, after this short sketch of his brother-in-law's merit, began to relate the obser- vations he had made dnring the visit, and asked Hamil- ton what he thought of his cousin Arran, who had so obligingly left them together. " This may appear sur- prising to you," continued he, "but hear me out, and judge whether I have reason to think that the close of this pretty visit passed in perfect innocence. Lady Chesterfield is amiable, it must be acknowledged ; but she is far from being such a miracle of beauty as she supposes herself : you know she has ugly feet ; but per- haps you are not acquainted that she has still worse legs. " " Pardon me," said Hamilton, within himself: and the other, continuing the description : "her legs," said his lordship, "are short and thick; and, to remedy these de- fects as much as possible, she seldom wears any other than green stockings." Hamilton could not for his life imagine the drift of all this discourse, and Chesterfield, guessing his thoughts : " Have a little patience," said he ; "I went yesterday to Miss Stewart's, after the audience of those d — d Musco- vites: the king arrived there just before me; and as if the duke had sworn to pursue me wherever I went that day, he came in just after me. The conversation turned upon the extraordinary appearance of the ambassadors. I know not where that fool Crofts had heard that all these Muscovites had handsome wives; and that all their wives had handsome legs. Upon this the king maintained that no woman ever had such handsome legs as Miss Stewart; and she to prove the truth of His Majesty's as- sertion, with the greatest imaginable ease, immediately showed her leg above the knee. Some were ready to prostrate themselves, in order to adore its beauty ; for indeed none can be handsomer; but the duke alone began to criticise upon it. He contended that it was too slen- der, and that as for himself, he would give nothing for a leg that was uot thicker and shorter, and concluded by 'JBBBIB ftCO. mi;moir.s of count grammoxt. saying that no leg was worth anything withont green stockings. Now this, in my opinion, was a sufficient demonstration that he had just seen green stockings, and had them fresh in his remembrance." Hamilton was at a loss what countenance to put on during a narrative which raised in him nearly the same conjectiires ; he .shrugged iip his shoulders, and faintly said that appearances were often deceitful ; that Lady Chesterfield had the foible of all beauties, who place their merit on the number of their admirers ; and whatever airs she might imprudently have given herself, in order not to discourage his Royal Highness, there was no ground to suppose that .she would indulge him in any greater lib- erties to engage him: but in vain was it that he endeav- ored to give that consolation to his friend which he did not feel himself Chesterfield plainly perceived that he did not think of what he was .saying; however, he thought himself much obliged to him for the interest he seemed to take in his concerns. Hamilton was in haste to go home to vent his spleen and resentment in a letter to his cou.sin. The style of this billet was very difi"erent from those which he for- merly was accustomed to write to her : reproaches, bitter expostulations, tenderness, menaces, and all the effusions of a lover who thinks he has reason to complain, com- posed this epistle ; which, for fear of accidents, he went to deliA/er himself Never did she before appear so lovely, and never did her eyes speak so kindly to him as at this moment : liis heart quite relented ; but he was determined not to lose all the fine things he had said in his letter. In receiving it, she .squeezed his hand : this action completely dis- armed him, and he would have given his life to have had this letter again. It appeared to him at this instant that all the grievances he complained of were vi.sionary and groundless : he looked upon her hu,sband as a mad- man and an impostor, and quite the reverse of what he 204 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. supposed him to be a few minutes before ; but this re- morse came a little too late : he had delivered his billet, and Lady Chesterfield had shown such impatience and eagerness to read it as soon as she had got it that all circumstances seemed to conspire to justify her, and to confound him. She managed to get quit, some way or other, of some troublesome visitors, to slip into her closet. He thought himself so culpable that he had not the assurance to wait her return : he withdrew with the rest of the company ; but he did not dare to appear before her the next day, to have an answer to his letter : however, he met her at court ; and this was the first time, since the commencement of their amour, that he did not seek for her. He stood at a distance, with down- cast looks, and appeared in such terribe embarrassment that his condition was sufficient to raise laughter or to cause pity, when Lady Chesterfield approaching, thus accosted him: "Confess," said she, "that you are in as foolish a situation as any man of sense can be : you wish you had not written to me : you 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 puzzling himself to devise by what means he should get this answer, she desired him to lay her gloves and fan down somewhere : he took them, and with them the billet in question ; and as he had perceived nothing severe or angry in the conversation he had with her, he hastened to open her letter, and read as follows : " Your transports are so ridiculous that it is doing you a favor to attribute them to an excess of tenderness, which turns your head : a man, without doubt, must have a great inclination to be jealous, to entertain such MKMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMiMONT. 205 an idea of the person you mention, (k)od (iod ! what a lover to have caused uneasiness to a man of genius, and what a genius to have got the better of mine ! Are not you ashamed to give any credit to the visions of a jealous fellow who brought nothing else with him from Italy ? Is it possible that the story of the green stockings, upon which he has founded his suspicions, should have im- posed upon you, accompanied as it is with such pitiful circumstances ? Since he has made you his confidant, why did not he boast of breaking in pieces my poor harmless guitar? This exploit, perhaps, might have convinced } ou naore than all the rest : recollect yourself, and if you are really in love with me, thank fortune for a groundless jealousy, which diverts to another quarter the attention he might pay to my attachment for the most amiable and the most dangerous man of the court." Hamilton was ready to weep for joy at these endear- ing marks of kindness, of which he thought himself so unworthy: he was not satisfied with kissing, in raptures, every part of this billet; he al.so kissed .several times her gloves and her fan. Play being over. Lady Chesterfield received them from his hands, and read in his eyes the joy that her billet had raised in his heart. Nor was he sati-sfied with expressing his raptures, only by looks : he hastened home, and wrote to her at least four times as much. How difierent was this letter from the other ! Though perhaps not so well written ; for one does not show so much wit in suing for pardon as in venting re- proaches, and it seldom happens that the soft, languish- ing style of a love-letter is so penetrating as that of invective. Re that as it may, his peace was made : their past quarrel gave new life to their correspondence ; and Lady Chesterfield, to make him as eas)' as he had before been distrustful, expressed on every occasion a feigned con- tempt for his rival, and a sincere aversion for her hus- band. 200 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. So great was his confidence in her, that he consented she should show in public some marks of attention to the duke, in order to conceal as much as possible their private intelligence. Thus, at this time nothing dis- turbed his peace of mind, but his impatience of finding a favorable opportunity for the completion of his desires: he thought it was in her power to command it ; but she excused herself on account of several difficulties which she enmnerated to him, and which she was desiroiis he should remove by his industry and attentions. This silenced his complaints ; but whilst he was en- deavoring to surmount these obstacles, still wondering how it was possible that two persons who were so well disposed to each other, and who were agreed to make each other happy, could not put their designs in exe- cution, accident discovered an unexpected adventure, which left him no room to doubt, either of the happi- ness of his rival, or of the perfidy of his mistress. Misfortunes often fall light when most feared; and fre- quently prove heaviest when merited, and when least suspected. Hamilton was in the middle of the most tender and passionate letter he had ever written to Lady Chesterfield, when her husband came to announce to him the particulars of this last discovery : he came so suddenly upon him, that he had only just time to con- ceal his amorous epistle among his other papers. His heart and mind were still so full of what he was writing to his 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 soon entertained quite different sentiments : he appeared almost petrified with astonishment, while the earl was relating to him circumstances of such an extravagant in- discretion, as seemed to him quite incredible, notwith- standing the ^particulars of the fact. " You have reason MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 207 to be surprised at it," said my lord, concluding his story; "but if you doubt the truth of what I tell you, it will be easy for you to find evidence that will convince you ; for the scene of their tender familiarities was no less pub- lic than the room where the queen pla) s at cards, which, while her majesty was at play, was, God knows, pretty well crowded. lyady Denhani was the first who dis- covered what they thought would pass unperceived in the crowd ; and you may very well judge how secret she would keep such a circumstance. The truth is, she ad- dressed herself to me first of all, as I entered the room, to tell me that I should give my wife a little advice, as other people might take notice of what I might see my- self, if I pleased. ' ' Your cousin was at play, as I before told you : the duke was sitting next to her : I know not what was be- come of his hand ; but I am sure that no one could see his arm below the elbow : I was standing behind them, just in the place that Lady Denham had quitted : the duke turning round perceived me, and was so much dis- turbed at my presence, that he almost undressed my lady in pulling away his hand. I know not whether they perceived that they were discovered ; but of this I am convinced, that Lady Denham will take care that every- body shall know it. I must confess to you, that my embarrassment is so great, that I cannot find words to express what I now feel : I should not hesitate one mo- ment what cotirse to take, if I might be allowed to show my resentment against the person who has wronged me. As for her, I could manage her well enough, if, mi- worthy as she is of any consideration, I had not still some regard for an illustrious family, that would be dis- tracted were I to resent such an injury as it deserves. In this particular you are interested yourself : you are my friend, and I make you my confidant in an affair of the greatest imaginable delicacy : let us then consult to- gether what is proper to be done in so perplexing and disagreeable a situation." 208 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Hamilton, if possible, more 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 exag- geration in the charges against lyady Chesterfield, he desired her husband to suspend his resolutions, until he was more fully informed of the fact; assuring him, how- ever, that if he found the circumstances such as he had related, he should regard and consult no other interest than his. Upon this they parted ; and Hamilton found, on the first inquiry, that almost the whole court was informed of the adventure, to which every one added something in relating it. Vexation and resentment inflamed his heart, and by degrees extinguished every remnant of his former passion. He might easily have seen her, and have made her such reproaches as a man is generally inclined to do on such occasions ; but he was too much enraged to enter into any detail which might have led to an explanation: he considered himself as the only person essentially in- jured in this affair ; for he could never bring his mind to think that the injuries of the husband could be placed in competition with those of the lover. He hastened to Lord Chesterfield, in the transport of his passion, and told him that he had heard enough to induce him to give such advice, as he should follow him- .self in the same situation, and that if he wished to save a woman so strongly prepossessed, and who perliaps had not }-et 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, GEBBIE & C O MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 209 which he had already considered as the only counsel a friend conld give him ; but his lady, who did not suspect he had made this last discovery of her conduct, thought he was joking with her, when he told her to prepare for going into the country in two days : she was the more induced to think so as it was in the very middle of an extremely severe winter ; but she soon perceived that he was in earnest : she knew from the air and manuer of her husband that he thought he had sufficient reason to treat her in this imperious style ; and finding all her re- lations serious and cold to her complaint, she had no hope left in this universally abandoned situation but in the tenderness of Hamilton. She imagined she should hear from him the cause of her misfortunes, of which she was still totally ignorant, and that his love would invent some means or other to prevent a journey which she flattered herself would be even more aflfecting to him than to herself ; but she was expecting pity from a crocodile. At last, when she saw the eve of her departure was come, that every preparation was made for a long jour- ney ; that she was receiving farewell visits iu form, and that still she heard nothing from Hamilton, both her hopes and her patience forsook her in this wretched situ- ation. A few tears perhaps might have afforded her some relief, but she chose rather to deny herself that comfort, than to give her husband so much satisfaction. Hamil- ton's conduct on this occasion appeared to her unac- countable ; and as he still never came near her, she found means to convey to him the following billet. "Is it possible that you should be one of those, who, without vouchsafing to tell me for what crime I am treated like a slave, suffer me to be dragged from so- ciety? What means yom silence and indolence in a juncture wherein your tenderness ought most particu- larly to appear, and actively exert itself? I am upon the point of departing, and am ashamed to think that you 14 210 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. are the cause of my looking upon it with horror, as I have reason to believe that yon are less concerned at it than any other person : do, at least, let me know to what place I am to be dragged ; what is to be done with me within a wilderness? and on what accomit you, like all the rest of the world, appear changed in your behavior towards a person whom all the world could not oblige to change with regard to you, if yoiir weakness or your ingratitude did not render you unworthy of her tender- ness. ' ' This billet did but harden his heart, and make him more proud of his vengeance : he swallowed down full draughts of pleasure in beholding her reduced to despair, being persuaded that her grief and regret for her de- parture were on account of another person : he felt un- common satisfaction in having a share in tormenting her, and was particularly pleased with the scheme he had contrived to separate her from a rival upon the very' point perhaps of being made happy. Thus fortified as he was against his natural tenderness, with all the severity of jealous resentment, he saw her depart with an indiffer- ence which he did not even endeavor to conceal from lier : this unexpected treatment, joined to the complica- tion of her other misfortunes, had almost in reality phinged her into despair. The court was filled with the stor)- of this adventure ; nobody was ignorant of the occasion of this sudden de- parture, but very few approved of Lord Chesterfield's conduct. In England they looked with astonishment upon a man who could be so uncivil as to be jealous of his wife ; and in the city of London it was a prodigy, till that time unknown, to see a husband have recourse to violent means, to prevent what jealousy fears, and what it always deserves. They endeavored, however, to ex- cuse poor Lord Chesterfield, as far as they could safely do it, withoiit incurring the public odium, by laying all the blame on his bad education. This made all the MEMOIR.S OF COUNT CRAMMONT. 211 mothers vow to God that none of their sons should ever set a foot in Italy, lest they should bring back with them that infamous custom of laj ing restraint upon their wives. As this story for a long time took up the attention of the court, the Chevalier de Gramniont, who was not thoroughly acquainted with all the particulars, inveighed more bitterly than all the citizens of London put to- gether against this tyranny ; and it was upon this occa- sion that he produced new words to that fatal saraband which had unfortunately so great a share in the adven- ture. The Chevalier passed for the author ; but if Saint Evremond had any part in the composition, it certainly was greatly inferior to his other performances, as the reader will see in the following chapter. LADY ROBARTS. CHAPTER IX. Every man who believes that his honor depends upon that of his wife is a fool who torments himself, and drives her to despair ; but he who, being naturally jealous, has the additional misfortune of loving his wife, and who expects that she should only live for him, is a perfect madman, whom the torments of hell have actually taken hold of in this world, and whom nobody pities. All reasoning and observation on these iinfortunate circum- stances attending wedlock concur in this, that precaution is vain and useless before the evil, and revenge odious afterwards. The Spaniards, who tyrannize over their wives, more by custom than from jealousy, content themselves with preserving the niceness of their honor by duennas, grates, and locks. The Italians, who are wary in their sus- picions, and vindictive iu their resentments, pursiie a different line of conduct : some satisfy themselves with keeping their wives under locks which they think secure: others by ingenioiis precaiitions exceed whatever the Spaniards can invent for confining the fair sex ; but the generality are of opinion, that in either unavoidable danger or in manifest transgression, the surest way is to assassinate. But, ye courteous and indulgent nations, who, far (212) MKMOIK.S OF COUNT (iRAMMONT. 213 from admittinf^ these savage and barbarous customs, give full liberty to your dear ribs, and commit the care of their virtue to their own discretion, you pass without alarms or strife your peaceful days, in all the enjoyments of domestic indolence ! It was certainly' some evil genius that induced Lord Chesterfield to distinguish himself from his patient and good-natured countrymen, and ridiculously to afford the world an opportunity of examining into the particulars of an adventure which would perhaps never have been known without the verge of the court, and which would everywhere have been forgotten in less than a month ; but now, as soon as ever he had turned his back, in order to march away with his prisoner, and the orna- ments she was supposed to have bestowed upon him, God only knows what a terrible attack there was made upon his rear: Rochester,* Middlesex,! Sedley,J Ether- edge, § and all the whole band of wits, exposed him in *Johii Wilmot, Earl of Rochester — "a man," as Lord Orford ob- serves, " whom the Muses were fond to inspire, and ashamed to avow ; and who practised, without the least reserve, that secret which can make verses more read for their defects than for their merits : " Noble Authors, vol. ii., p. 43 ; — was born, according to Burnet and Wood, in the month of April, 1648; but Gadbury, in his almanack for 1695, fixes the date on April i, 1647, from the information of Lord Roches- ter himself. His father was Henry, Earl of Rochester, better known by the title of Lord Wilmot. He was educated at Wadhani College, Oxford, and, in 1665, went to sea with the Earl of Sandwich, and dis- played a degree of valor which he never showed at any period after- wards. Bishop Burnet says, he "was naturally modest, till the court corrupted him. His wit had in it a peculiar brightness, to which none could ever arrive. He gave himself up to all sorts of extravagance, and to the wildest frolics that a wanton wit could devise. He would have gone about the streets as a beggar, and made love as a porter. He set up a stage as an Italian mountebank. He was for some years always drunk ; and was ever doing some mischief The king loved his company, for the diversion it afforded, better than his per.son ; and there was no love lost lietween them. He took his revenges in many libels. He found out a footman that knew all the court ; and he fur- nished him with a red coat and a musquet, as a sentinel, and kept him 214 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. numberless ballads, and diverted the public at his ex- pense. all the winter long, every night, at the doors of snch 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 drinik, he intended to give the king a libel that he had written on some ladies ; but, by a mistake, he gave him one written on himself. He fell into an ill habit of body, and, in set fits of sickness, he had deep remorses; for he was guilty both of nmoli impiety and of great immoralities. But as he recovered, he threw these off, and turned again to his for- mer ill courses. In the last year of his life, I was much with him, and have written a book of what passed between him and me : I do verily believe, he was then so changed, that, if he had recovered, he would have made good all his resolutions." — History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 372. On this book, mentioned b}' the bishop. Dr. Johnson pro- nounces the following eulogium : — that it is one "which the critic ought to read for its elegance, the philosopher for its arguments, and the saint for its piety. It were an injury to the reader to offer him an abridgement." — Life of Rochester. Lord Rochester died July 26, 1680. t At this time the Earl of Middlesex was Lionel, who died in 1674. The person intended by our author was Charles, then Lord Buckhurst, afterwards Earl of Middlesex, and, la.stly, Duke of Dorset. He was born January 24, 1637. Bishop Burnet says, he "was a generous, 'good-natured man. He was so oppressed with phlegm, that, till he was a Httle heated with wine, he scarce ever spoke ; but he was, upon tliat exaltation, a very lively man. Never was so much ill-nature in a pen as in his, joined with so much good-nature as was in himself, even to excess ; for he was against all punishing, even of malefactors. He was bountiful, even to run himself into difficulties, and charitable to a fault ; for he commonly gave all he had about him when he met an object that moved him. But he was so lazy, that, though the king seemed to court him to be a favorite, he would not give himself the trouble that belonged to that post. He hated the court, and despised the king, when he saw he was neither generous nor tender-hearted." — History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 370. Lord Orford says of him, that "he was the finest gentleman of the voluptuous court of Charles the Second, and in the gloomy one of King William. He had as much wit as his first master, or his contemporaries, Buckingham and Roches- ter, without the royal want of feeling, the duke's want of principles, or the earl's want of thought. The latter said with astonishment, 'that MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 215 The Chevalier de Graminont was highly pleased with these lively and huiuorous compositions ; and wherever this snbject was mentioned, never failed to produce his supplement upon the occasion : " It is strange," said he, " that the country, which is little better than a gallows or a grave for young people, is allotted in this land only for the unfortunate, and not for the guilty ! poor Lady Chesterfield, for some unguarded looks, is immediately seized upon by an angry husband, who will oblige her to spend her Christmas at a country-hoiise, a hundred and fifty miles from London ; while here there are a thousand ladies who are left at liberty to do whatever they please, and who indulge in that liberty, and whose conduct, in short, deserves a dail}' bastinado. I name no person, God forbid I should ; but Lady Middleton, Lady Denham, the queen's and the duchess's maids of honor, and a hundred others, bestow their favors to the right and to the left, and not the least notice is taken of he did not know how it was, but Lord Dorset might do anything, and 3-et was never to blame.' It was not that he was free from the faihngs of humanity, but he had the tenderness of it too, which made every- body excuse whom everybody loved ; for even the asperitj- of his verses seems to have been forgiven to 'The best good man, with the worst-natured muse.' " Noble Authors, vol. ii., p. 96. Lord Dorset died January' 19, 1705-6. X Sir Charles Sedley was born about the year 1639, and was educated at Wadham College, Oxford. He ran into all the excesses of the times in which he lived. Burnetsays, "Sedley had a more sudden and copious wit, which furnished a perpetual run of discourse ; but he was not so correct as Lord Dorset, nor so sparkling as Lord Rochester." — History of his Oivn Times, vol. i., p. 372. He afterwards took a more serious turn, and was active against the reigning family at the Revolution ; to which he was probably urged by the dishonor brought upon his daughter, created Countess of Dorchester by King James II. Lord Rochester's lines on his powers of seduction are well known. He died 2olh August, 1 701. \ Sir George Etheredge, author of three comedies, was born about the year 1636. He was, in James the Second's reign, employed abroad ; first as envoy to Hamburgh, and afterwards as minister at Ratisbon, where he died, about the time of the Revolution. 216 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. their conduct. As for 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 Rome plenary indulgences for her conduct : there are three or four gentlemen who wear an ounce of her hair made into bracelets, and no person finds any fault ; and yet shall such a cross-grained fool as Chesterfield be permitted to exercise an act of tyranny, altogether un- known in this country, upon the prettiest woman in England, and all for a mere trifle : but I am his humble servant ; his precautions will avail him nothing ; on the contrary, very often a woman, who had no bad inten- tions when she was 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 Francisco's saraband says on the subject : "Tell me, jealous-pated swain, What avail thy idle arts. To divide united hearts ? Love, like the wind, I trow, Will, where it listeth, blow ; So, prithee, peace, for all thy cares are vain. " When you are by, Nor wishful look, be sure, nor eloquent sigh, Shall dare those inward fires discover. Which burn in either lover : Yet Argus' self, if Argus were thy spy, Should ne'er, with all his mob of eyes, Surprise. "Some joys forbidden, Transports hidden, Wliicli love, through dark and secret ways. Mysterious love, to kindred souls conveys." The Chevalier de Grammont passed for the author of this sonnet : neither the justness of the sentiment, nor turn of it are surprisingly beautiful ; but as it contained MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 217 some truths that flattered the genius of the nation, and pleased those who interested themselves for the fair sex, the ladies were all desirous of having it to teach their children. During all this time the Duke of York, not being in the way of seeing Lady Chesterfield, easily forgot her : her absence, however, had some circumstances attending it which could not but sensibly affect the person who had occasioned her confinement; but there are certain fortu- nate tempers to which every situation is easy; they feel neither disappointment with bitterness, nor pleasure with acuteness. In the meantime, as the duke could not remain idle, he had no sooner forgotten Lady Chester- field, but he began to think of her whom he had been in love with before, and was upon the point of relapsing into his old passion for Miss Hamilton. There was in London a celebrated portrait- painter called Lely,* who had greatly improved himself by studying the famous Vandyke's pictures, which were * Sir Peter Lely was bom at Soest, in Westphalia, 1617, and came to England in 1641. Lord Orford observ^es, " If Vandyke's portraits are often tame and spiritless, at least they are natural : his labored draperies flow with ease, and not a fold but is placed with propriety. Lely sup- plied the want of taste with clinquant : his nymphs trail fringes and embroiderj' through meadows and purling streams. Add.-that Vandyke's habits are those of the times ; Lely's a sort of fantastic night-gowns, fastened with a single pin. The latter was, in truth, the ladies' painter ; and whether the age was improved in beauty or in flattery, Lely's women are certainly much handsomer than those of Vandyke. They please as much more as they evidently meant to please. He caught the reigning character, and ' on the animated canvas stole The sleepy eye, that spoke the melting soul.' I do not know whether, even in softness of the flesh, he did not excel his predecessor. The beauties at Windsor are the court of Paphos, and ought to be engraved for the memoirs of its charming biographer, Count Hamilton." — ylnccdotes of Pai)itinff, vol. iii., p. 27. .Sir Peter Lely died 1680, and was buried in St. Paul's, Covent Garden. 218 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. dispersed all over England in abundance. Lely imitated Vandyke's manner, and approached the nearest to him of all the moderns. The Duchess of York, being desirous of having the portraits of the handsomest persons at court, Lely painted them, and employed all his skill in the performance; nor could he ever exert himself upon more beautiful subjects. Ever}' picture appeared a master- piece ; and that of Miss Hamilton appeared the highest finished: Lely himself acknowledged that he had drawn it with a particular pleasure. The Duke of York took a delight in looking at it, and began again to ogle the original : he had very little reason to hope for success ; and at the same time that his hopeless passion alarmed Chevalier de Grammont, Lad)- Denhani 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 prosperoush' on one side ; yet I know not what fatality obstructed the pretensions of the other. The duke was very urgent with the duchess to put Lady Dcnham in possession of the place which was the object of her ambition ; bi:t, as she was not guarantee for the performance of the secret articles of the treaty, though till this time she had borne with patience the inconstancy of the duke, and yielded submissively to his desires, yet, in the present instance, it appeared hard and dishonorable to her, to entertain near her person, a rival, who would expose her to the danger of acting but a second part in the midst of her own court. However, she saw herself upon the point of being forced to it by authority, when a far more unfortunate obstacle forever bereft poor Lady Denham of the hopes of possessing that fatal place, which she had solicited with such eagerness. Old Denham, naturally jealous, became more and more suspicious, and found that he had sufficient ground for such condiict: his wife was young and handsome, he MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 219 old and disagreeable : what reason then had he to flatter himself that Heaven wonld exempt him from the fate of husbands in the like circumstances? ,This lie was con- tinually saying to himself ; but when compliments were poured in upon him from all sides, upon the place his lady was going to have near the duchess's person, he formed ideas of what was sufficient to have made him hang himself, if he had possessed the resolution. The traitor chose rather to exercise his courage against another. He wanted precedents for putting in practice his resentments in a privileged country : that of Lord Chesterfield was not sufficiently bitter for the revenge he meditated: besides, he had no country-house to which he could carry his unfortunate wife. This being the case, the old villain made her travel a much longer journey without stirring out of London. Merciless fate robbed her of life,* and of her dearest hopes, in the bloom of youth. As no person entertained any doubt of his having poi- soned her, the populace of his neighborhood had a de- sign of tearing him in pieces, as .soon as he should come abroad; but he shut himself up to bewail her deatji, until their fury was appeased by a magnificent fmieral, 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 still admired, notwithstanding his re- * The lami)oons of the day, some of which are to be found in Andrew Marvell's Works, more than insinuate that she was deprived of life by a mixture infused into some chocolate. The slander of the times im- puted her death to the jealousy of the Duchess of York. 220 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. seiitmetits, leisure to make those reflections which a recent injury will not permit a man to attend to: "And wherefore," said he to himself, "was I so eager to make her miserable, who alone, however culpable she may be, has it in her power to make me happy ? Cursed jeal- ousy ! ' ' continued he, ' ' yet more cruel to those who tor- ment than to those who are tormented ! What have 1 gained by having blasted the hopes of a more happy rival, since I was not able to perform this without depriv- ing myself, at the same time, of her upon whom the whole happiness and comfort of my life was centred." Thus, clearly proving to himself, by a great many reasonings of the same kind, and all out of season, that in such an engagement it was much better to partake with another than to have nothing at all, he filled his mind with a number of vain regrets and unprofitable re- morse, when he received a letter from her who occa- sioned them, but a letter so exactly adapted to increase them, that, after he had read it, he looked upon himself as the greatest scoundrel in the world. Here it follows : "You will, no doubt, be as much surprised at this letter as I was at the unconcerned air with which you beheld my departure. I am led to believe that you had imagined reasons which, in your own mind, justified such unseasonable conduct. If you are still imder the impression of such barbarous sentiments it will afford you pleasure to be made acquainted with what I suffer in the most horrible of prisons. Whatever the country affords most melancholy in this season presents itself to my view on all sides : surrounded by impassable roads, out of one window I see nothing but rocks, out of another nothing but precipices ; but wherever I turn my eyes within doors I meet those of a jealous husband, still more in- supportable than the sad objects that encompass me. I should add to the misfortunes of my life that of seeming criminal in the eyes of a man who ought to have justified me, even against convincing appearances, if by my MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAM.MONT. 221 avowed innocence I had a right to coniphiin or to expos- tuhite : bnt how is it possible for nie to justify myself at such a distance ? and how can I flatter myself that the description of a most dreadful prison will not prevent you from believino; me? But do you deserve that 1 should wish you did ? Heavens ! how I must hate you, if I did not love you to distraction. Come, therefore, and let me once again see you, that you may hear my justification ; and I am convinced that if after this visit you find me guilty it will not be w'ith respect to )-our- self. Our Argus sets out to-morrow for Chester, where a law-suit will detain him a week. I know not whether he will gain it ; but I am sure it will be entirely your fault if he does not lose one, for which he is at least as anxious as that he is now going after." This letter was sufficient to make a man run blindfold into an adventure still more rash than that which was proposed to him, and that was rash enough in all re- spects : he could not perceive by what means she could justify herself ; but as she assured him he should be satis- fied with his journey, this was all he desired at present. There was one of his relations with Lady Chesterfield, who, having accompanied her in her exile, had gained some share in their mutual confidence ; and it was through her means he received this letter, with all the necessary instructions about his journey and his arrival. Secrecy being the soul of such expeditions, especially before an amour is accomplished, he took post, and set out in the night, animated by the most tender and flat- tering wishes, so that, in less than no time almost, in comparison with the distance and the badness of the roads, he had travelled a hundred and fifty tedious miles : at the last .stage he prudently dismissed the post- boy. It was not yet daylight, and therefore, for fear of the rocks and precipices mentioned in her letter, he proceeded with tolerable discretion, considering he was in love. 222 MEMOIR.S OF COUNT GRAMMONT. By this means he fortunately escaped all the danger- ous places, and, according to his instructions, alighted at a little hut adjoining to the park wall. The place was not magnificent ; but, as he only wanted rest, it did well enough for that : he did not wish for daylight, and was even still less desirous of being seen ; wherefore, having shiit himself up in this obscure retreat, he fell into a profound sleep, and did not wake until noon. As he was particularly hungry when he awoke, he ate and drank heartily : and, as he was the neatest man at court, and was expected by the neatest lady in England, he spent the remainder of the day in dressing himself, and in making all those preparations which the time and place permitted, without deigning once to look around him, or to ask his landlord a single question. At last the orders he expected with great impatience were brought him, in the beginning of the evening, by a ser- vant, who, attending him as a guide, after having led him for about half an hour in the dirt, through a park of vast extent, brought him at last into a garden, into which a little door opened : he was posted exactly oppo- site to this door, by which, in a short time, he was to be introduced to a more agreeable situation ; and here his conductor left him. The night advanced, but the door never opened. Though the winter was almost over, the cold weather seemed only to be beginning : he was dirtied up to his knees in mud, and soon perceived that if he continued much longer in this garden it woiild all be frozen. This beginning of a very dark and bitter night would have been unbearable to any other ; but it was nothing to a man who flattered himself to pass the remainder of it in the height of bliss. However, he began to wonder at so many precautions in the absence of a husband : his im- agination, by a thousand delicious and tender ideas, sup- ported him some time against the torments of impatience and the inclemency of the weather ; but he felt his MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 223 imaj^ination, notwithstanding, cooling- by degrees ; and two honrs, which seemed to him as tedious as two whole ages, having passed, and not the least notice being taken of him, either from the door or from the window, he began to reason with himself upon the posture of his affairs, and what was the fittest conduct for him to pur- sue in this emergency: "What if I should rap at this cursed door?" said he ; "for if my fate requires that I should perish, it is at least more honorable to die in the house than to be starved to death in the garden : but then," continued he, "I may, thereby, perhaps, expose a person whom some unforeseen accident may, at this ver\' instant, have reduced to greater perplexity than even I myself am in." This thought supplied him with a necessary degree of patience and fortitude against the enemies he had to contend with ; he therefore began to walk quickly to and fro, with resolution to wait, as long as he could keep alive, the end of an adventure which had such an iincomfortable beginning. All this was to no piirpose ; for though he used every effort to keep him- self warm, and though muffled up in a thick cloak, yet he began to be benumbed in all his limbs, and the cold gained the ascendancy over all his amorous vivacity and eagerness. Daj break was not far off, and jiidging now that, though the accursed door should even be opened, it would be to no purpose, he returned, as well as he coiild, to the place from whence he had set out upon this wonderful expedition. All the fagots that were in the cottage were hardly able to unfreeze him : the more he reflected on his ad- venture, the circumstances attending it appeared still the more strange and unaccountable ; but so far from accus- ing the charming countess, he suffered a thousand differ- ent anxieties on her account. Sometimes he imagined that her husband might have returned unexpectedly ; sometimes, that she might suddenly have been taken ill ; in short, that some insuperable obstacle had unluckily 224 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. interposed, and prevented his happiness, notwithstanding his mistress's kind intentions towards him. " Bnt wherefore, ' ' said he, ' ' did she forget me in that cursed garden? Is it possible that she could not find a single moment to make me at least some sign or other, if she could neither speak to me nor give me admittance?" He knew not which of these conjectures to rely upon, or how to answer his own questions ; but as he flattered himself that everything would succeed better the next night, after having vowed not to set a foot again into that unfortunate garden, he gave orders to be awakened as soon as any person should inquire for him : then he laid himself down in one of the worst beds in the world, and slept as sound as if he had been in the best : he sup- posed that he should not be awakened, but either by a letter or a message from I,ady Chesterfield ; but he had scarce slept two hours, when he was roused by the sound of the horn and the cry of the hounds. The hut which afforded him a retreat, joining, as we before said, to the park wall, he called his host, to know what was the occasion of that hunting, which luade a noise as if the whole pack of hounds had been in his bedchamber. He was told that it was my lord hunting a hare in his park. "What lord?" said he, in great surprise. "The Earl of Chesterfield," replied the peasant. He was so aston- ished at this that at first he hid his head under the bed- clothes, under the idea that he already saw him entering with all his hounds ; but as soon as he had a little re- covered himself he began to curse capricious fortune, no longer doubting but this jealous fool's return had occa- sioned all his tribulations in the preceding night. It was not possible for him to sleep again, after such an alarm ; he therefore got up, that he might revolve in his mind all the stratagems that are usuall}^ 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 A CO MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 225 dressing himself, and was beginning to question his Land- lord, when the same servant who had conducted him to the garden delivered him a letter and disappeared, with- out waiting for an answer. This letter was from his relation, and was to this effect : "I am extremely sorry that I have innocently been accessary to bringing you to a place to which you were only invited to be latiglied at : I opposed this journey at first, though I was then persuaded it was wholly sug- gested b}- her tenderness ; but she has now undeceived me : she triumphs in the trick she has played you : her husband has not stirred from hence, but staj s at home, out of complaisance to her : he treats her in the most affectionate manner; and it was iipon their reconciliation that she found out that you had advised him to carry her into the country. She has conceived such hatred and aversion against you for it, that I find, from her discourse, she has not yet wholly satisfied her resent- ment. Console yourself for the hatred of a person whose heart never merited your tenderness. Return : a longer sta)' 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 emploj-- ment which but ill agrees with my way of thinking." Upon reading this letter, astonishment, shame, hatred and rage seized at once upon his heart : then menaces, invectives, and the desire of vengeance, broke forth by turns, and excited his passion and resentment; but, after he deliberately considered the matter, he resolved that it was now the best way quietly to mount his horse and to carry back with him to London a severe cold, instead of the soft wishes and tender desires he had brought from thence. He quitted this perfidious place with much greater expedition than he had arrived at it, though his mind was far from being occupied with such tender and agreeable ideas : however, when he thought himself at 15 226 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. a sufficient distance to be out of danger of meeting Lord Chesterfield and his hounds, he chose to look back, that he might at least have the satisfaction of seeing the prison where this wicked enchantress was confined ; but what was his surprise, when he saw a very fine house, situated on the banks of a river, in the most delightful and pleasant country imaginable.* Neither rock nor precipice was here to be seen ; for, in reality, they were only in the letter of his perfidious mistress. This fur- nished fresh cause for resentment and confusion to a man who thought himself so well acquainted with all the wiles, as well as weaknesses, of the fair sex ; and who now foiuid himself the dupe of a coquette, who was reconciled to her husband in order to be revenged on her lover. At last he reached London, well furnished with argu- ments to maintain that a man must be extremely weak to trust to the tenderness of a woman who has once de- ceived him, but that he must be a complete fool to run after her. This adventure not being much to his credit, he sup- pressed, as much as possible, both the journey and the * This was Bretby, in the county of Derby. A late traveller has the following reflections on this place : " Moving back again a few miles to the west, we trace, with sad reflection, the melancholy ruins and de- structions of what was once the boasted beauty of the lovely country, \nz., Bretby, the ancient seat of the Earls of Chesterfield. Nothing scarce is left of that former grandeur, those shades, those sylvan scenes that everywhere graced the most charming of all parks : the baneful hand of luxury hath, with rude violence, laid them waste. About ten years ago, the venerable and lofty pile was standing, and exhibited de- lightful magnificence to its frequent visitors : its painted roofs and walls, besides a large collection of pictures, afforded much entertain- ment to the fond admirer of antique beauties ; and the whole stood as a lasting monument of fame and credit to its lordly owner. Would they were standing now ! but that thought is vain : not only each sur- rounding monument, but the very stones themselves, have been con- verted to the purpose of filthy lucre." — Tour in ijSj from London to the Western Islands of Scotland, i2mo., p. 29. MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 227 circumstances attending- it ; but, as we may easil}' sup- pose, Lady Chesterfield made no secret of it, the king came to the knowledge of it ; and, having complimented Hamilton upon it, desired to be informed of all the par- ticulars of the expedition. The Chevalier de Grammont happened to be present at this recital; and, having gently inveighed against the treacherous manner in which he had been used, said: "If she is to be blamed for carrying the jest so far, you are no less to be blamed for coming back so suddenly, like an ignorant novice. I dare lay an hundred guineas, she has more than once repented of a resentment which you pretty well deserved for the trick you had played her : women love revenge ; but their resentments seldom last long ; and if you had re- mained in the neighborhood till the next day, I will be hanged if she would not have given you satisfaction for the first night's sufferings." Hamilton being of a dif- ferent opinion, the Chevalier de Grammont resolved to maintain his assertion by a case in point ; and, address- ing himself to the king: "Sir," said he, "your majesty, I suppose, must have known Marion de TOrme, the most charming creature in all France : though she was as witty as an angel, she was as capricious as a devil. This beauty having made me an appointment, a whim seized her to put me off, and to give it to another ; she therefore wrote me one of the tenderest billets in the world, fiill of the grief and sorrow she was in, b}- being obliged to disappoint me, on account of a most terrible headache, that obliged her to keep her bed, and de- prived her of the pleasure of seeing me till the next day. This headache coming all of a sudden, appeared to me very suspicious ; and, never doubting but it was her intention to jilt me: 'Very well, mistress coquette,' .said I to myself, ' if you do not enjoy the pleasure of seeing me this da)-, you shall not enjoy the satisfaction of seeing another. ' "Hereupon, I detached all my servants, some of whom 228 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. patrolled about her house, whilst others watched her door ; one of the latter brought me intelligence that no person had gone into her house all the afternoon ; but that a foot-boy had gone out as it grew dark ; that he followed him as far as the Riie Saint Antoine, where this boy met another, to whom he only spoke two or three words. This was sufficient to confirm my suspicions, and make me resolve either to make one of the part}', or to disconcert it. "As the bagnio where I lodged was at a great distance from the IMarais, as soon as the night set in I mounted my horse, without any attendant. When I came to the Place-Royale, the servant, who was sentry there, assured me that no person was yet gone into Mademoiselle de I'Orme's * house : I rode forward towards the Rue Saint Antoine ; and, just as I was going out of the Place- Royale, I saw a man on foot coming in-to it, who avoided me as much as he possibly could ; but his endeavor was all to no purpose ; I knew him to be the Duke de Bris- sac, and I no longer doubted but he was my rival that night : I then approached towards him, seeming as if I feared I mistook my man ; and, alighting with a very busy air : ' Brissac, my friend,' said I, 'you must do me a service of the ver}' greatest importance : I have an ap- pointment, for the first time, with a girl who lives very near this place ; and, as this visit is only to concert measures, I shall make but a very short stay ; be so kind, therefore, as to lend me your cloak, and- walk my horse about a little, until I return ; but, above all, do not go far from this place : you see that I use you freely like a friend ; but you know it is upon condition that you may take the same liberty with me.' I took his cloak, with- * Marion de I'Omie, born at Chalons, in Champagne, was esteemed the most beautiful woman of her times. It is believed that she was secretly married to the unfortunate Monsieur Cinqmars. After his death, she became the mistress of Cardinal Richelieu, and, at last, of Monsieur d'Emery, superintendent of the finances. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 229 out waiting for his answer, and he took my horse by the bridle, and followed me with his eye ; but he gained no intelligence by this ; for, after having pretended to go into a house opposite to him, I slipped under the piazzas to Mademoiselle de I'Orme's, where the door was opened as soon as I knocked. I was so much miifRed up in Brissac's cloak that I was taken for him : the door was immediately shut, not the least question asked me ; and having none to ask myself I went straight to the lady's chamber. I found her upon a couch in the most agree- able and genteelest deshabille imaginable : she never in her life looked so handsome, nor was so greatly siirprised; and, seeing her speechless and confounded : ' What is the matter, my fair one ? ' said I, ' methinks this is a headache very elegantly set off ; but your headache, to all appearance, is now gone?' 'Not in the least,' said she, ' I can scarce support it, and you will oblige me in going away that I may go to bed.' 'As for your going to bed, to that I have not the least objection,' said I, 'but as for my going away, that cannot be, my little princess : the Chevalier de Grammont is no fool ; a woman does not dress herself with so much care for nothing.' ' You will find, however,' said she, 'that it is for nothing ; for you may depend upon it that you shall be no gainer by it.' ' What ! ' said I, ' after having made me an appointment ! ' ' Well,' replied she hastily, ' though I had made you fifty, it still depends upon me, whether I chose to keep them or not, and you must submit if I do not.' 'This might do very well,' said I, ' if it was not to give it to another.' Mademoiselle de I'Orme, as haughty as a woman of the greatest virtue, and as passionate as one who has the least, was irritated at a suspicion which gave her more concern than confusion ; and seeing that she was beginning to put herself in a passion : ' IMadam,' said I, ' pray do not talk in so high a strain; I know what perplexes you: you are afraid lest Brissac should meet me here; but you may make yourself easy on that account : I met him not far 230 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. from this place, and God knows that I have so managed the affair as to prevent his visiting yon soon. ' Having spoken these words in a tone somewhat tragical, she ap- peared concerned at first, and, looking upon nie with surprise : ' What do you mean about the Duke de Bris- sac?' said she. 'I mean,' replied I, ' that he is at the end of the street, walking my horse about ; but, if you will not believe me, send one of your own servants thither, or look at his cloak which I left in your ante- chamber.' Upon this she burst into a fit of laughter, in the midst of her astonishment, and, throwing her arms around my neck, " My dear Chevalier,' said she, ' I can hold out no longer ; you are too amiable and too eccen- tric not to be pardoned.' I then told her the whole story: she was ready to die with laughing; and, parting very good friends, she assured me my rival might exercise horses as long as he pleased, but that he should not set his foot within her doors that night. " I found the duke exactly in the place where I had left him : I asked him a thousand pardons for having made him wait so long, and thanked him a thousand times for his complaisance. He told me I jested, that such compliments were unusual among friends ; and to convince me that he had cordially rendered me this piece of service, he would, by all means, hold my horse while I was mounting. I returned him his cloak, bade him good-night, and went back to my lodgings, equally satis- fied with my mistress and my rival. This," continued he, "proves that a little patience and address are suffi- cient to disarm the anger of the fair, to turn even their tricks to a man's advantage." It was not in vain that the Chevalier de Granimont di- verted the court with his stories, instructed by his exam- ple, and never appeared there but to inspire universal joy ; for a long time he was the only foreigner in fashion. Fortune, jealous of the justice which is done to merit, and desirous of seeing all human happiness depend on her MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 231 caprice, raised up against him two competitors for the pleasure he had long enjoyed of entertaining the English court ; and these competitors were so much the more dangerous, as the reputation of their several merits had preceded their arrival, in order to dispose the suffrages of the court in their favor. They came to display, in their own persons, whatever was the most accomplished either among the men of the sword, or of the gown. The one was the Marquis de Flamarens, * the sad object of the sad elegies of the Countess de la Suse, f the other was the president Tam- bonneau, the most humble and most obedient servant and admirer of tli^ beauteous Luynes. As they arrived together, they exerted every endeavor to shine in concert: their talents were as different as their persons ; Tambon- neau,+ who was tolerably ugly, founded his hopes upon a great store of wit, which, however, no person in England could find out ; and Flamarens, by his air and mien, courted admiration, which was flatly denied him. *A Monsieur Flaniarin, but whether the same person as here de- scribed cannot be exactly ascertained, is mentioned, in Sydney's Let- ters, to have been in England at a later period than is comprehended in these Memoirs. "Monsieur de Flamarin hath been received at Windsor as seriously as if it had been believed the Queen of Spain's marriage should not hold unless it were here approved ; and the for- malities that are usual with men of business having been observed to him, he is grown to think he is so." — Sydney's Works, p. 94. t This lady was the daughter of Gaspar de Coligni, marshal of France, and was celebrated in her time for her wit and her elegies. She was one of the few women with whom Christina, Queen of Sweden, con- descended to become intimate. Though educated a Protestant, .she embraced the Roman Catholic religion, less from a motive of devotion, than to have a pretence for parting from her husband, who was a Protestant, and for whom she had an invincible abhorrence ; which occasioned the queen to say : "The Coinitess of Suse became a Cath- olic, that she might neither meet her husband in this world nor the next." — See Lacombe's Life 0/ Queen Christina. The countess died in 1673. X I find this person mentioned in Memoirs of the Court of France, 8vo., 1702, part ii., p. 42. 232 MEMOIRvS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. They had agreed mutually to assist each other, in order to succeed in their intentions ; and therefore, in their first visits, the one appeared in state, and the other was the spokesman. But they found the ladies in Eng- land of a far different taste from those who had rendered them famous in France : the rhetoric of the one had no effect on the fair sex, and the fine mien of the other distinguished him only in a minuet, which he first in- troduced into England, and which he danced with tolerable success. The English court had been too long accustomed to the solid wit of Saint Evremond, and the natural and singular charms of his hero, to be seduced by appearances ; however, as the English have, in general, a sort of predilection in favor of anything that has the appearance of bravery, Flamarens was better received on account of a duel, which, obliging him to leave his own coi:ntry, was a recommendation to him in England. Miss Hamilton had, at first, the honor of being dis- tinguished by Tambonneau, who thought she possessed a sufficient share of wit to discover the delicacy of his ; and, being delighted to find that nothing was lost in her conversation, either as to the turn, the expression, or beauty of the thought, he frequently did her the favor to converse with her ; and, perhaps, he would never have found out that he was tiresome, if, contentiug him- self with the disjDlay of his eloquence, he had not thought proper to attack her heart. This was carrying the matter a little too far for Miss Hamilton's com- plaisance, who was of opinion that she had already shown him too much for the tropes of his harangues: he was therefore desired to try somewhere else the ex- periment of his seducing tongue, and 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 MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 233 in France, he began to lay in a store of politics for those important negotiations in which he has since been em- ployed. It was not till after his departure that the Chevalier de Grammont heard of the amorous declaration he had made : this was a confidence of no great importance ; it, however, saved Tambonneau from some ridicule which might have fallen to his share before he went away. His colleague, Flamarens, deprived of his support, soon perceived that he was not likely to meet in England with the success he had expected, both from love and fortune : but Lord Falmouth, ever attentive to the glory of his master, in the relief of illustrious men in distress, provided for his subsistence, and Lady Southesk for his pleasures : he obtained a pension from the king, and from her everj'thing he desired ; and most happy was it for him that she had no other present to bestow but that of her heart. It was at this time that Talbot, whom we have before mentioned, and who was afterwards created Duke of Tyrconnel,* fell in love with Miss Hamilton. There * Richard Talbot, the fifth son "of an Irish family, but of ancient English extraction, which had always inhabited within that circle that was called the Pale ; which, being originally an English plantation, was, in so many hundred years, for the most part degenerated into the manners of the Irish, and rose and mingled with them in the late rebellion : and of this family there wei-e two distinct families, who had competent estates, and lived in many descents in the rank of gentlemen of quality." Thus far Lord Clarendon ; who adds, that Richard Talbot and his "brothers were all the sons, or the grandsons, of one who was a judge in Ireland, and esteemed a learned man." — Continuation of Clarendon. Of the person now under consideration the same writer appears, and with great reason, to have entertained a very ill opinion. Dick Talbot, as he was called, "was brought into Flanders first by Daniel O'Neile, as one who was willing to assa.ssinate Cromwell ; and he made a journey into England with that resolution, not long before his death, and after it returned into Flanders, ready to do all that he should be recjuired. He was a very handsome young man, wore good clothes, and was, without doubt, of a clear, ready courage, which was virtue enough to recommend a man to the duke's good opinion ; which, with more 234 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. was not a more genteel man at court : he was indeed but a younger brother, though of a very ancient family, which, however, was not very considerable either for its renown or its riches ; and though he was naturally of a careless disposition, yet, being intent upon making his fortune, and much in favor with the Duke of York, and fortune likewise favoring him at play, he had improved both so well that he was in possession of about forty thousand pounds a year in land. He offered himself to Miss Hamilton, with this fortune, together with the almost certain hopes of being made a peer of the realm, by his master's credit ; and, over-and-above all, as many sacrifices as she could desire of Lady Shrewsbury's expedition than could be expected, lie got, to that degree, that he was made of his bed-chamber ; and from that qualification embarked himself after the king's return, in the pretences of the Irish, with such an unusual confidence, and, upon private contracts, with such scandalous circumstances, that the chancellor had sometimes, at the council-table, been obliged to give him severe reprehensions, and often desired the duke to withdraw his countenance from him. " — Coiiliiiiiatioii of Claren- don. It is to be remembered that he was one of the men of honor already noticed. On King James's accession to the throne, he was created Earl of Tyrcouuel, and placed, as lieutenant-general, at the head of the Irish army, where his conduct was so agreeable to his sovereign, that he was, in 1689, advanced to the dignity of Duke of Tyrconnel. He was afterwards employed by the king in Ireland, where his efforts were without effect. The Duke of Berwick says, "his stature was above the ordinary size. He had great experience of the world, having been early introduced info the best company, and possessed of an honorable employment in the household of the Duke of York ; who, upon his succession to the crown, raised him to the dignity of an earl, and, well knowing his zeal and attachment, made him soon after viceroy of Ireland. He was a man of very good sense, very obliging, but immod- erately vain, and full of cunning. Though he had acquired great pos- sessions, it could not be said that he had employed improper means ; for he never appeared to have a passion for money. He had not a military genius, but much courage. After the Prince of Orange's invasion, liis firmness preserved Ireland, and he nobly refused all the offers that were made to induce him to submit. From the time of the battle of the Boyne, he sank prodigiously, being become as irresolute in his mind as unwieldly in his person." — Memoirs, vol. i., p. 94. He died at Lim- erick, 5th August, 1 69 1. MEHrOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 235 letters, pictures, and hair ; curiosities which, indeed, are reckoned for nothing in housekeeping, but which testify strongly in favor of the sincerity and merit of a lover. Such a rival was not to be despised ; and the Cheva- lier de Graniniont thought him the more dangerous, as he perceived that Talbot was desperately in love ; that he was not a man to be discouraged by a first repulse ; that he had too much sense and good breeding to draw upon himself either contempt or coldness by too great eagerness ; and, besides this, his brothers began to fre- quent the house. One of these brothers wexs almoner to the queen,* an intriguing Jesuit, and a great match- maker : the other was what was called a lay-monk, f who had nothing of his order but the immorality and infamy of character which is ascribed to them ; and withal, frank and free, and sometimes entertaining, but ever ready to speak bold and offensive truths, and to do good offices. When the Chevalier de Grammont reflected upon all these things, there certainly was strong ground for un- easiness: nor was the indifference which Miss Hamilton showed for the addresses of his rival sufficient to remove his fears; for being absolutely dependent on her father's will, she could only answer for her own intentions : but Fortune, who seemed to have taken him under her pro- tection in England, now delivered him from all his un- easiness. Talbot had for man)- }-ears stood forward as the patron of the distressed Irish : this zeal for his countrymen was certainly very commendable in itself; at the same time. * This was Peter Talbot, whose character is drawu by Lord Claren- don in terms not more favorable than those in which his brother is portrayed. — See Continuation of Clarendon, p. 363. t Thomas Talbot, a Franciscan friar, of wit enough, sa3-s Lord Clarendon, but of notorious debauchery. More particulars of this man may be found in the same noble historian. — See Continuation of Clarendon, p. 363. 236 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. however, it was not altogether free from self-interest : for, out of all the estates he had, through his credit, pro- cured the restoration of to their primitive owners, he had always obtained some small compensation for himself ; but, as each owner found his advantage in it, no com- plaint was made. Nevertheless, as it is very difficult to use fortune and favor with moderation, and not to swell with the gales of prosperity, some of his proceedings had an air of haughtiness and independence which offended the Duke of Ormond,* then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, as injurious to his Grace's authority. The duke resented this behavior with great spirit. As there certainly was a great difference between them, both as to their birth and rank, and to their credit, it had been prudent in Talbot to have had recourse to apologies and submission ; but such conduct ajjpeared to him base, and unworthy for a man of his importance to submit to: he accordingly acted with haughtiness and insolence ; but he was soon con- vinced of his error; for, having inconsiderately launched oat into some arrogant expressions which it neither became him to iitter nor the Duke of Ormond to forgive, he was sent prisoner to the Tower, from whence he could not be released until he had made all necessary submissions to his Grace : he therefore employed all his friends for that purpose, and was obliged to yield more to get out of this scrape than would have been necessary to have avoided it. By this imprudent conduct he lost all hopes of marrying into a family, which, after such a proceeding, was not likely to listen to any proposal from him. It was with great difficulty and mortification that he was obliged to suppress a passion which had made far greater progress in his heart than this quarrel had done * A very exact account of this transaction is given by Lord Claren- don, by which it appears that Talbot was committed to the Tower for threatening to assassinate the Duke of Ormond. — Continuation of Clarendon, j). 362. MKMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 237 good to his affairs. This being the case, he was of opinion that his presence was necessary in Ireland, and that he was better ont of the way of Miss Hamilton, to remove those impressions which still troubled his repose: his departure, therefore, soon followed this reso- lution. Talbot played deep, and was tolerably forgetful : the Chevalier de Grammont won three or four hundred guin- eas of him the very evening on which he was sent to the Tower. That accident had made him forget his usual punctuality in paying the next morning whatever he had lost over-night; and this debt had so far escaped his mem- ory, that it never once occurred to him after he was en- larged. The Chevalier de Grammont, who saw him at his departure, without taking the least notice of the money he owed him, wished him a good journey ; and, having met him at court, as he came to take his leave of the king: "Talbot," said he, " if my services can be of any use to you during your absence, you have but to command them: you know old Russell has left his nephew as his resident with Miss Hamilton: if you please, I will act for you in the same capacity. Adieu, God bless you: be sure not to fall sick upon the road; but if you should, pray remember me in your will." Talbot, who, upon this compliment, immediately recollected the money he owed the Chevalier, burst out a-laughing, and embracing him: "My dear Chevalier," said he, "I am so much obliged to you for your offer, that I resign you my mis- tress, and will send you your money instantly." The Chevalier de Grammont possessed a thousand of these genteel ways of refreshing the memories of those persons who were apt to be forgetful in their payments. The following is the method he used some years after with IvOrd Cornwallis: * this lord had married the daughter of * Charles, the third I^onl Cornwallis, born in 1655. He married, December 27, 1673, Elizabeth, the chlest d.uij(hter of .Sir .Stephen Fox, 238 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Sir Stephen Fox,* treasurer of the king's household, one of the richest and most regular men in England. His son-in-law, on the contrary, was a young spendthrift, was very extravagant, loved gaming, lost as much as any one would trust him, but was not quite so ready at pay- ing. His father-in-law disapproved of his conduct, paid his debts, and gave him a lecture at the same time. The Chevalier de Grammont had won of him a thousand or twelve hundred guineas, which he heard no tidings of, although he was upon the eve of his departure, and he had taken leave of Cornwallis in a more particular man- ner than any other person. This obliged the Chevalier to write him a billet, which was rather laconic. It was this: "My L,ord, "Pray remember the Count de Grammont, and do not forget Sir Stephen Fox." To return to Talbot : he went away more concerned knight, and afterwards, in 1688, the widow of the Duke of Monmouth. Lord Cornwallis died April 29, 1698. * This gentleman is said to have been of a genteel family, settled at Farley, in Wiltshire, and was the architect of his own fortune. Lord Clarendon says, in his History of the Rebellion, that he was entertained by Lord Percy, then lord chamberlain of the king's household, at Paris, about the year 1652, and continued in His Majesty's service until the Restoration. On that event he was made clerk of the green cloth, and afterwards paymaster-general of the forces in England. On the ist July, 1665, he was knighted. In 1680, he was constituted one of the lords commissioners of the treasury. On the accession of James II., he was continued first clerk of the green cloth ; and in December, 1686, was again appointed one of the commissioners of the treasury. At the rev- olution, he concurred in voting the throne vacant ; and, on 19th March, 16S9, was a third time appointed to the treasury, which place he held until he retired from public lousiness, 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 j-ears of age, he had two sons, who both afterwards became peers, — Stephen, Earl of Ilcliester, and Henry, Lord Holland, and two daughters. He died in the year 1716, at Chis- wick, in his 89tli year. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 239 than became a man who had voluntarily resigned his mistress to another : neither his stay in Ireland, nor his solicitude about his domestic affairs, perfectly cured him; and if at his return he found himself disengaged from Miss Hamilton's chains, it was only to exchange them for others. The alteration that had taken place in the two courts occasioned this change in him, as we shall see in the sequel. We have hitherto onl\- mentioned the queen's maids of honor, upon account of Miss Stewart and Miss War- mestre: the others were Miss Bellenden, Mademoiselle de la Garde, and INIademoiselle Bardou, all maids of honor, as it pleased God. Miss Bellenden was no beauty, but was a good-natured girl, whose chief merit consisted in being plump and fresh -colored ; and who, not having a sufficient stock of wit to be a coquette in form, used all her endeavors to please every person by her complaisance. IMademoiselle de la Garde, and jMademoiselle Bardou, both French, had been preferred to their places by the queen dowager: the first was a little brunette, who was continually med- dling in the affairs of her companions ; and the other by all means claimed the rank of a maid of honor, though she only lodged with the others, and both her title and services were constantly contested. It was hardly possible for a woman to be more ugly, with so fine a shape ; but as a recompense, her ugliness was set off with every art. The use she was put to was to dance with Flamarens, and sometimes, towards the conclusion of a ball, possessed of castanets and effrontery, she would dance some figured saraband or other, which amused the court. Let us now see in what manner this ended. As i\Iiss Stewart was very seldom in waiting on the queen, she was scarcely considered as a maid of honor : the others went off almost at the same time, by different adventures ; and this is the history of Miss Warmestre, 240 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. whom we have before mentioned, when speaking of the Chevalier de Grammont. Lord Taaffe, eldest son of the Earl of Carlingford,* was supposed to be in love with her ; and Miss War- mestre not only imagined it was so, but likewise persuaded herself that he would not fail to marry her the first op- portunity ; and in the meantime she thought it her duty to entertain him with all the civility imaginable. Taaffe had made the Duke of Richmond f his confidant : these two were particularly attached to each other ; but still more so to wine. The Duke of Richmond, notwith- standing his birth, made but an indifferent figure at court ; and the king respected him still less than his courtiers did : and perhaps it was in order to court His Majesty's favor that he thought proper to fall in love with Miss Stewart. The Duke and Lord Taaffe made each other the confidants of their respective engage- ments ; and these were the measures they took to put their designs in execution. Little Mademoiselle de la * Nicholas, the third Viscount Taaffe, and second Earl of Carling- ford. He was of the privy-council to King James II., and, in 1689, went as envoy to the Emperor Leopold. He lost his life the next year, 1st July, at the battle of the Boyne, commanding at that time a regi- ment of foot. This nobleman, although he succeeded his father in his title, was not his eldest son. King Charles appears to have had a great regard for the family. In a letter from Lord Arlington to Sir Richard Fanshaw, dated April 21, 1664, that nobleman says: "Colonel Luke Taaffe (a brother of my Lord Carlingford's) hath served his catholic majesty many years in the state of Milan, with a standing regiment there ; which regiment he desires now to deliver over to Captain Nicholas Taaffe, a younger son of my Lord Carlingford's, and the col- onel's nephew, who is now a captain of the regiment; and His Majesty commands me to recommend to your excellency the bringing this to pass, for the affection he hath to the family, and the merit of this yoimg gentleman." — Arlington^ s Letters, vol. ii., p. 21. t Charles Stewart, Duke of Richmond and Lennox. He was after- wards sent ambassador to Denmark, and died at Elsinore, December 12, 1672. Burnet sa3'S he " was sent to give a lustre to the negotiation, which was chiefly managed by Mr. Henshaw." — History 0/ his Own Times, vol. i., p. 425. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 241 Garde * was charged to acquaint Miss Stewart that the Duke of Richmond was dying of love for her, and that when he ogled her in public it was a certain sign that he was ready to marry her, as soon as ever she would consent. TaafFe had no connnission to give the little ambas- sadress for Miss Warmestre ; for there everything was already arranged; but she was charged to settle and pro- vide some conveniences which were still wanting for the freedom of their commerce, such as to have free egress and regress to her at all hours of the day or night ; this appeared difficult to be obtained, but it was, however, at length accomplished. The governess of the maids of honor, who for the world would not have connived at anything that was not fair and honorable, consented that they should sup as often as they pleased in Miss Warmestre's apartments, provided their intentions were honorable, and she one of the company. The good old lady was particularly fond of green oysters, and had no aversion to Spanish wine : she was certain of finding at every one of these suppers two barrels of oysters ; one to be eaten with the party, and the other for her to carry away : as soon, therefore, as she had taken her dose of wine, she took her leave of the company. It was much about the time that the Chevalier de Gramniont had cast his eyes upon Miss Warmestre, that this kind of life was led in her chamber. God knows how many ham pies, bottles of wine, and other products of his lordship's liberality were there consumed ! * Daughter of Charles PeHot, Lord de la Garde, whose eldest daughter married Sir Thomas Bond, comptroller of the household to the queen-mother. Sir Thomas Bond had a considerable estate at Peckham, and his second son married the niece of Jermyn, one of the heroes of these Memoirs. — See Coll ins' s Baronetage, vol. iii., p. 4. She became the \\-ife of Sir Gabriel Silvius, and died 13th Oc- tober, 1730. 16 242 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. In the midst of these nocturnal festivals, and of this innocent commerce, a relation of Killegrew's came up to London about a lawsuit : he gained his cause, but nearly lost his senses. He was a country gentleman, who had been a widower about six months, and was possessed of fifteen or sixteen thousand pounds a year : the good man, who had no busi- ness at court, went thither merely to see his cousin Kille- grew, who could have dispensed with his visits. He there saw Miss Warmestre ; and at first sight fell in love with her. His passion increased to such a degree that, having no rest either by day or by night, he was obliged to have recourse to extraordinary remedies; he therefore early one morning called upon his cousin Killegrew, told him his case, and desired him to demand Miss Warmestre in marriage for him. Killegrew was struck with wonder and astonishment when he heard his design: nor could he cease wondering at what sort of creature, of all the women in London, his cousin had resolved upon marrying. It was some time before Killegrew could believe that he was in earnest ; but when he was convinced that he was, he began to enumerate the dangers and inconveniences attending so rash an enterprise. He told him that a girl educated at court was a terrible piece of furniture for the country ; that to carry her thither against her inclination would as effectual h' 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 comiDUte what it would cost him in equipage, table, clothes, and ganiing-money, to maintain her in London according to her caprices ; and then to cast up how long his fifteen thousand a-year woiild last. His cousin had already formed this computation ; but, finding his reason less potent than his love, he remained fixed in his resolution; and Killegrew, yielding at length to his importunities, went and offered his cousin, bound MKMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 243 liand and foot, to the victorious fair. As he dreaded nothing more than a compliance on her part, so nothing could astonish him more than the contempt with which she received his proposal. The scorn with which she refused him, made him believe that she was sure of 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 cir- cumstances, as the best news he could carry to his cousin; but his cousin would not believe him : he supposed that Killegrew disguised the truth, for the same reasons he had already alleged ; and not daring to mention the matter any more to him, he resolved to wait iipon her himself. He summoned all his courage for the enter- prise, and got his compliment by heart ; but as soon as he had opened his mouth for the purpose, she told him he might have saved himself the trouble of calling on her about such a ridiculous affair; that she had already given her answer to Killegrew ; and that she neither had, nor ever should have, any other to give ; which w'ords she accompanied with all the severity with which impor- tunate demands are usually refused. He was more affected than confounded at this repulse: everything became odious to him in 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 for- saken all intercourse with dogs and horses ; that is to say, renounced all the delights and endearments of a country squire, the scornful nymph, who was certainly mistaken in her reckoning, took the libert}- of being brought to-bed in the face of the whole court. An adventure so public made no small noise, as we may very well imagine : all the prudes at court at once 244 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. broke loose upon it ; and those principally, whose age or persons secnred them from any snch scandal, were the most inveterate, and cried most loudly for justice. But the governess of the maids of honor, who might have been called to an account for it, affirmed that it was nothing at alf, and that she was possessed of circum- stances which would at once silence all censorious tongues. She had an audience of the queen, in order to unfold the mystery ; and related to Her Majesty how everything had passed with her consent, that is to say, upon honorable terms. The queen sent to inquire of Lord Taafif'e, whether he acknowledged Miss Warmestre for his wife : to which he most respectfully returned for answer, that he neither acknowledged Miss Warmestre nor her child, and that he wondered why she should rather father it upon him than any other. The imfortunate Warmestre, more en- raged at this answer than at the loss of such a lover, quitted the court as soon as ever she was able, with a resolution of quitting the world the first opportunity. Killegrew, being upon the point of setting out upon a journey when this adventure happened, thought he might as well call upon his afflicted cousin in his way, to ac- quaint 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 coloring that could heighten his indignation, in order to make him burst with shame and resentment. We read that the gentle Tiridates quietly expired upon the recital of the death of Marianne ; but Kille- grew's fond cousin falling devoutly upon his knees, and lifting up his eyes to Heaven, poured forth this exclama- tion : " Praised be the Lord for a small misfortune, which perhaps may prove the comfort of my life ! Who knows but the beauteous Warmestre will now accept of me for a MEMOIR.S OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 245 husband ; and that I may have the happiness of passing- the remainder of my days with a woman I adore, and by wlK)m I may expect to have heirs?" "Certainly," said Killegrew, more confonnded than his cousin ought to have been on such an occasion, "you may depend upon having both : I make no manner of doubt but she will marry you as soon as ever she is recovered from her lying-in ; and it would be a great ill-nature in her, who already knows the way, to let you want children ; how- ever, in the meantime, I advise you to take that she has already, till you get more." Notwithstanding this raillery, all that was said did take place. This faithful lover courted her, as if she had been the chaste Lucretia, or the beauteous Helen : his passion even increased after marriage, and the gener- ous fair, first out of gratitude, and afterwards through inclination, never brought him a child of which he was not the father ; and thotigh there have been many a happy couple in England, this certainly was the hap- piest. Some time after, ]\Iiss Bellenden, not being terrified by this example, had the prudence to quit the court be- fore she was obliged so to do : the disagreeable Bardou followed her soon after; but for different reasons. Every person was at last completeh' tired of her saraband, as well as of her face ; and the king, that he might see neither of them any more, gave each a small pension for her subsistence. There now only remained little Mad- emoiselle de la Garde to be provided for : neither her virtues nor her vices were sufficientl)- conspicuous to occasion her being either dismissed from court or j^ressed to remain there : God knows what would have become of her, if a Mr. Silvius, * a man who had nothing of a * Afterwards Sir Gahriel Silvius. In Cliamherlayiie's A n_s;lia Noiitia, 1669, Gabriel de Sylviis is down as one of the carvers to the queen, and ^Irs. de Sylviis, one of the six chanibriers or dressers to the (juecn. 246 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. Roman in him except the name, had not taken the poor girl to be his wife. We have now shown how all these damsels deserved to be expelled, either for their irregularities, or for their ugliness; and yet, those who replaced them fonnd means to make them regretted. Miss Wells only excepted. She was a tall girl, exquisitely shaped : she dressed very genteel, walked like a goddess ; and yet, her face, though made like those that generally please the most, was unfortunately one of those that pleased the least : nature had spread over it a certain careless indolence that made her look sheepish. This gave but a bad opinion of her wit : and her wit had the ill-luck to make good that opinion : however, as she was fresh colored, and appeared inexperienced, the king, whom the fair Stewart did not render over nice as to the perfections of the mind, resolved to try whether the senses would not fare better with Miss Wells's person than fine sentiments with her understanding : nor was this experiment at- tended with much difficulty : she was of a loyal family ; and her father having faithfully served Charles the First, she thought it her duty not to revolt against Charles the Second. But this connection was not attended with very advantageous circumstances for herself ; some pretended that she did not hold out long enough, and that she sur- rendered at discretion before she was vigorously attacked; and others said, that His Majesty complained of certain other facilities still less pleasing. The Duke of Buck- ingham made a couplet upon this occasion, wherein the king, speaking to Progers, the confidant of his intrigues, puns upon the name of the fair one, to the following purport : He was afterwards knighted, and, 30th February, 1680, was sent am- bassador to the Dukes of Brunswick and Lunenburgh. Lord Orford says he was a native of Orange, and was attached to the princess-royal, afterwards to the Duke of York. He also says he was sent ambassador to Denmark. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 247 "When the king felt the horrible depth of this Well, Tell me, Progers,* cried Cliariie, where am I ? oh tell ! Had I sought the world's centre to find, I had found it, But this Well ! ne'er a plummet was made that could sound it." Miss Wells, notwithstaiidiug this species of anagram * Edward Progers, Esq., was a younger soti of Philip Progers, Esq., of the family of Garreddin, in Monmouthshire. His father was a colonel in the army, and equerry to James I. Edward was early in- troduced to court, and, after having been page to Charles I., was made groom of the V)ed-chamber to his son, while Prince of Wales. He attached himself to the king's interest during the war with the par- liament, with laudable fidelity. The following letter, from which antiquaries may derive the minute information that Charles II. did wear mourning for a whole year for his father, serves to show the fa- miliar style which Charles used to Progers, as well as his straitened circumstances while in the island of Jersej-. " Progers, I wold have j ou (besides the embroidred sute) bring me a plaine ridding suite, with an innocent coate, the suites I have for horse- backe being so spotted and spoiled that they are not to be scene out of this island. The lining of the coate, and the petit toies are referred to your greate discretion, provided there want nothing when it comes to be put on. I doe not remember there was a belt, or a hat-band, in your directions for the embroidred suite, and those are so necessarie as yon must not forget them. "Jearsey, 14th Jan. old stile, 1649. CH.\RLiis R." " For Mr. Progers." By a letter from Cowley to Henrj- Beunet, dated i8th November, 1650, Mr. Progers appears to have been then active in his master's service. — Brown'' s Miscellanea Aulica, 1702, p. 153. In the lampoons of the times, particularly in those of Andrew Marvell, Mr. Progers is de- scribed as one devoted to assist his master's pleasures ; for which reason, perhaps, he was banished from the king's presence in 1650, by an act of the estates of Scotland, " as an evil instrument and bad counsellor of the king." He is said to have obtained several grants to take effect upon the restoration : but it does not appear that they took effect. In 1660, he was named, says Lord Orford, one of the knights of the royal oak, an order the king then intended to institute. By the same authority we are informed that he had permission from the king to build a house in Bushy Park, near Hampton Court, on condition that, after his death, it should revert to the crown. This was the house inhabited by the late Earl of Halifax. He represented the county of Brecon in parliament for seventeen years, but retired in 1679. On the death of his master, he 248 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 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 luitil it please fortune to draw them out of it. This was the new establishment of maids of honor to the queen. The Duchess of York, nearh- about the same time, likewise recruited hers ; but showed, by a happier and more brilliant choice, that England pos- sessed an inexhaustible stock of beauties. But before we begin to speak of them, let us see who were the first maids of honor to her Royal Highness, and on what account they were removed. Besides Miss Blague and Miss Price, whom we have before mentioned, the establishment was composed of Miss Bagot and IVIiss Hobart, the president of the com- munity. 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 acquainting her that Miss Price was to wear the same sort of gloves and yellow riband as herself, he had only complimented her upon her hair, her fair com- plexion, and her eyes viai^cassins. This word she im- agined must signify something particularly wonderful, since her eyes were compared to it ; and being desirotis, some time afterwards, to know all the energy of the ex- pression, she asked the meaning of the French word retired from public life. Mr. Progers died, says L,e Neve, " December 31st, or January ist, 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 gnms, that he died thereof" He was in low circumstances before his death, and applied to King James for relief, with what effect is not known. Mr. Progers had a family by his wife Eliz? beth Wells ; and the scandal-bearers of the time remarked, that his eldest daughter Philippa, afterwards Mrs. Croxel, bore a strong resemblance to Charles II. Monunienta Anglicana, 1717, p. 273. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 249 marcassiii. As there are no wild boars in Eng'land, those to whom she addressed herself told her that it signified a young pig. This scandalous simile confirmed her in the belief she entertained of his perfidy. Brisacier, more amazed at her change, than she was offended at his supposed calumny, looked upon her as a woman still more capricious than insignificant, and never troubled himself more about her ; but Sir Yarborough, of as fair a complexion as herself, made her an offer of marriage in the height of her resentment, and was accepted : chance made up this match, I suppose, as an experiment to try what such a white-haired union would produce. Miss Price was witty ; and as her person was not very likely to attract many admirers, which, however, she was resolved to have, she was far from being coy when an occasion offered : she did not so much as make any terms : she was violent in her resentments, as well as in her attachments, which had exposed her to son:e incon- veniences ; and she had very indiscreetly quarrelled with a young girl whom Lord Rochester admired. This connection, which till then had been a secret, she had the imprudence to publish to the whole world, and thereby drew upon herself the most dangerous enemy in the universe : never did any man write with more ease, humor, spirit, and delicacy ; hwt he was at the same time the most severe satirist. Poor Miss Price, who had thus voluntarily provoked his resentment, was daily exposed in some new shape : there was every day some new song or other, the subject of which was her conduct, and the burden her name. How was it possible for her to bear up against these attacks, in a court, where every person was eager to obtain the most insignificant trifle that came from the pen of Lord Rochester? The loss of her lover, and the discovery that attended it, was only wanting to com- plete the persecution that was raised against her. 250 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. About this time died Dongan,* a gentleman of merit, who was succeeded by Durfort, afterwards Earl of Feversham,t in the post of lieutenant of the duke's life guards. Miss Price having tenderly loved him, his death plunged her into a gulf of despair ; but the in- ventory of his effects had almost deprived her of her senses: there was in it a certain little box sealed up on all sides: it was addressed in the deceased's own handwrit- ing to Miss Price ; but instead of receiving it, she had not even the courage to look upon it. The governess *The only notice of this person I have anywhere seen, is in the fol- . lowing extract of a letter from Sir Richard Fanshaw to Lord Arling- ton, dated 4th June, 1664.— "I ought not, in justice to an honorable person, to conclude before I acquaint your honor, that I have this day seen a letter, whereby it is certified, from my Lord Dongan, (now at Heres,) that, if there were any ship in Cadiz bound for Tangier, he would go over in her, to do His Majesty what service he could in that garrison ; which, he saith, he fears wants good officers very much." — F'a?isha7a''s Letters, vol. i., p. 194. t Louis de Duras, Earl of Feversham, a native of France, being son of the Duke de Duras, and brother to the last duke of that name, as also to the Duke de Lorge. His mother was sister to the great Turenne, of the princely house of Bouillon. After the restoration he came to England, was naturalized, and behaved with great gallantry in the sea- fight with the Dutch, in 1665. When he first came to England, he bore the name of Durfort, and the title of Marquis of Blancfort. In the 24th, Charles II. he was created Baron Duras of Holdenby, in the county of Northampton ; and having married Mary, the eldest daughter and co-heir of Sir George Sondes, of Lees Court, in the county of Kent, who had been created Earl of Feversham, the same title was limited to him, and he succeeded to it on the death of his father-in-law. Besides these honors, King Charles preferred him to the command of the third troop of horse guards, afterwards promoted him to the second, and then to the first. In 1679, he was made master of the horse to Queen Katharine, and afterwards lord-chamberlain to Her Majesty. Upon King James's accession he was admitted into the privy council, and was commander-in-chief of the forces sent against the Duke of Monmouth. After the revolution, he continued lord-chamberlain to the queen-dowager, and master of the royal college of St. Katherine's, near the Tower. He died April 8th, 1709, aged 68, and was buried in the Savoy, in the Strand, London; but removed, March 21st, 1740, to Westminster Abbey. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOXT. 251 thought it became her in prudence to receive it, on Miss Price's refusal, and her duty to deliver it to the duchess herself, supposing it was filled with many curious and precious commodities, of which perhaps she might make some advantage. Though the duchess was not alto- gether of the same opinion, she had the curiosity to see what was contained in a box sealed up in a manner so particularly careful, and therefore caused it to be opened in the presence of some ladies, who happened then to be in her closet. All kinds of love trinkets were found in it; and all these favors, it appeared, came from the tender-hearted Miss Price. It was difficult to comprehend how a single person could have furnished so great a collection ; for, besides coimting the pictures, there was hair of all de- scriptions, wrought into bracelets, lockets, and into a thousand other different devices, wonderful to see. After these were three or four packets of letters, of so tender a nature, and so full of raptures and languors so naturally expressed, that the duchess could not endure the reading of any more than the two first. Her Royal Highness was sorry that she had caused the box to be opened in such good company ; for being before such witnesses, she rightl)' judged it was impossi- ble to stifle this adventure; and, at the same time, there being no possibility of retaining any longer such a maid of honor. Miss Price had her valuables restored to her, with orders to go and finish her lamentations, or to console herself for the loss of her lover, in some other place. Miss Hobart's character was at that time as uncommon in England, as her person was singular, in a country where, to be young, and not to be in some degree hand- some, is a reproach; she had a good shape, rather a bold air, and a great deal of wit, which was well cultivated, without having nnich discretion. She was likewise pos- sessed of a great deal of vivacity, with an irregular fancy; 252 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. there was a great deal of fire in her eyes, which, however, produced no effect upon the beholders: and she had a ten- der heart, whose sensibility some pretended was alone in favor of the fair sex. Miss Bagot * was the first that gained her tenderness and affection, which she returned at first with equal warmth and sincerity; but perceiving that all her friend- ship was insiifficient to repay that of Miss Hobart, she yielded the conquest to the governess's niece, who thought herself as much honored by it as her aunt thought herself obliged by the care she took of the young girl. It was not long before the report, whether true or false, of this singularity, spread through the whole court, where people, being yet so uncivilized as never to have heard of that kind of refinement in love of ancient Greece, imagined that the illustrious Hobart, who seemed so par- ticularly attached to the fair sex, was in reality some- thing more than she appeared to be. * Elizabeth, daughter of Hervey Bagot, second son of Sir Hervey Bagot. She married first Charles Berkley, Earl of Falmouth, and, after his death, Charles Sackville, who became the first Duke of Dorset. From the pen of a satirist much dependence is not to be placed for the truth of facts. This lady's character is treated by Dryden and Mul- grave with very little respect, in the following lines, extracted from " The Essay on Satire : " " Thus Dorset, purring like a thoughtful cat. Married ; but wiser puss ne'er thought of that : And first he worried her with railing rhyme. Like Pembroke's mastiffs at his kindest time ; Then for one night sold all his slavish life, A teeming widow, but a barren wife ; Swell'd by contact of such a fulsome toad, He lugged about the matrimonial load ; Till fortune, blindly kind as well as he, Has ill restored him to his liberty ; Which he would use in his old sneaking way. Drinking all night, and dozing all the day ; Dull as Ned Howard, whom his brisker times Had famed for dulness in malicious rhymes." MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 253 Satirical ballads soon began to compliment her npon 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 Rochester upon the danger to which her niece was ex- posed. 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 well that she fell into his own. The duchess, who had too much generosity not to treat as visionary what was imputed to Miss Hobart, and too nmch justice to condemn her upon the faith of lampoons, removed her from the society of the maids of honor, to be an attendant upon her own person. Miss Bagot was the only one who was really possessed of virtue and beauty among these maids of honor : she had beautiful and regular features, and that sort of brown complexion, which, when in perfection, is so particularly fascinating, and more especially in England, where it is uncommon. There was an involuntary blush almost continually upon her cheek, without having anything to blush for. Lord Falmouth cast his eyes upon her : his addresses were better received than those of Miss Hobart, and some time after Cupid raised her from the post of maid of honor to the duchess to a rank which might have been envied by all the }-oung ladies in England. The Duchess of York, in order to form her new court, resolved to see all the young persons that offered them- selves, and, without any regard to recommendations, to choose none but the handsomest. At the head of this new assembly appeared Miss Jen- nings and Miss Temple ; and indeed they so entirely eclipsed the other two, that we shall speak of them only. Miss Jennings,* adorned with all the blooming treas- * This lady was one of the daughters and co-heiresses of Richard Jen- 254 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. iires of youth, had the fairest and brightest complexion that ever was seen: her hair was of a most beauteous flaxen : there was sometliing particularly lively and animated in her countenance, which preserved her from that in- sipidity which is frequently an attendant on a complexion so fair. Her mouth was not the smallest, but it was the handsomest mouth in the world. Nature had endowed her with all those charms which cannot be expressed, and the graces had given the finishing stroke to them. The turn of her face was exquisitely fine, and her swell- ing neck was as fair and as bright as her face. In a word, her person gave the idea of Aurora, or the goddess of the spring, "such as youthful poets fancy when they love." But as it would have been unjust that a single person should have engrossed all the treasures of beauty without any defect, there was something wanting in her hands and arms to render them worthy of the rest: her nose was nings, Esq., of Sundridge, in the county of Hertford, and elder sister to the celebrated Duchess of Marlborough. Her name was Frances. She married George Hamilton, mentioned in these Memoirs ; and after his death, took to her second husband, Richard Talbot, already men- tioned, created Duke of Tyrconnel by James II., whose fortunes he fol- lowed. Lord Melfort, secretary to that prince, appears to have con- ceived no very favorable opinion of this lady ; for in a letter to his master, dated October, 1689, he says, "there is one other thing, if it could be effectuated, were of infinite use ; which is the getting the Duchess of Tyrconnel, for her health, to come into France. I did not know she had been so well known here as she is ; but the terms they give her, and which, for 3'our service, I may repeat unto you, is, that she has {rdmc la plus noire qui sc puisse concevoir). I think it would help to keep that peace so necessary for you, and prevent that cabal- ling humor which has very ill effects." — Macp/ierson's State Papers, vol. i. In 1699 she is mentioned in a letter from the Earl of Man- chester to Lord Jerse}% as one of the needy Jacobites of King James's court, to whom 3,000 crowns, part of that monarch's pension, had been distributed. — Coles's Stale Papers, p. 53. In 1705 she was in England, and had an interview with her brother-in-law, the Duke of Marlbor- ough, with whose family she seems not to have lived in any terms of cordiality. — ^racp/iersoii, vol. i. In the latter part of her life she re- sided in Ireland, and died there, 6tli March, 1730-1, at a very advanced age. — She was buried in the cathedral of St. Patrick's. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 255 not the most elegant, and lier eyes gave some relief, whilst her mouth and her other charms pierced the heart with a thousand darts. With this amiable person she was full of wit and sprightliness, and all her actions and motions were un- affected and easy : her conversation was bewitching, when she had a mind to please : piercing and delicate when disposed to raillery ; but as her imagination was MISS TKMPLE. subject to flights, and as she began to speak frequently before she had done thinking, her expressions did not always conve}- what she wished ; sometimes exceeding, and at others falling short of her ideas. IVIiss Temple,* nearly of the same age, was brown * Anne, daughter of Thomas Temple of Frankton, in the coiintj- of Warwick ; by Rebecca, daughter of Sir Nicholas Carew, of Beddington, in Surrey, knight. She afterwards became the second wife of Sir Charles Lj'ttelton, by whom she had five sons, and eight daughters. 256 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. compared with the other : she had a good shape, fine teeth, languishing eyes, a fresh complexion, an agree- able smile, and a lively air. Snch was the ontward form ; bnt it wonld be difificnlt to describe the rest ; for she was simple and vain, crednloiis and suspicions, co- quettish and prudent, very self-sufficient and very silly. As soon as these new stars appeared at the duchess's court, all eyes were fixed upon them, and every one formed some design upon one or other of them, some with honorable, and others with dishonest intentions. Miss Jennings soon distinguished herself, and left her com- panions no other admirers but such as remained constant from hopes of success : her brilliant charms attracted at first sight, and the charms of her wit secured her con- quests. The Duke of York having persuaded himself that she was part of his property, resolved to pursue his claim by the same title whereby his brother had appropriated to himself the favors of Miss Wells ; but he did not find her inclined to enter into his service, though she had engaged in that of the duchess. She would not pay any attention to the perpetual ogling with which he at first attacked her. Her eyes were always wandering on other objects, when those of his Royal Highness were looking for them ; and if by chance he caught any casual glance, she did not even blush. This made him resolve to change his manner of attack : ogling having proved ineffectual, he took an opportunity to speak to her ; and this was still worse. I know not in what strain he told his case ; but it is certain the oratory of the tongue was not more prevailing than the eloquence of his eyes. Miss Jennings had both virtue and pride, and the pro- posals of the duke were consistent with neither the one nor the other. Although from her great vivacity one She was grandmother of the first Lord Lyttelton ; and died 27th August, 1718. Her husband, Sir Charles Lyttelton, lived to the advanced age of 86 years ; and died at Hagley, May 2d, 1716. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 257 might suppose tliat she was not capable of much reflec- tion, yet she had furnished herself with some very salu- tary maxims for the conduct of a young person of her age. The first was, that a lad)- ought to be young to enter the court with advantage, and not old to leave it with a good grace : that she could not maintain herself there but by a glorious resistance, or by illustrious foibles : and that, in so dangerous a situation, she ought to use her utmost endeavors not to dispose of her heart until she gave her hand. Entertaining such sentiments, she had far less trouble to resist the duke's temptations, than to disengage her- self from his perseverance : she was deaf to all treaties for a settlement, with which her ambition was sounded : and all offers of presents succeeded still worse. What was then to be done to conquer an extravagant virtue that would not hearken to reason ? He was ashamed to suffer a giddy young girl to escape, whose inclinations ought in some manner to correspond with the vivacity that shone forth in all her actions, and who nevertheless thought proper to be serious when no such thing as seriousness was required of her. After he had attentively considered her obstinate be- havior, he thought that writing might perhaps succeed, though ogling, speeches, and embassies had failed. Paper receives everything, but it unfortunately happened that she would not receive the paper. Every day billets, containing the tenderest expressions, and most magnifi- cent promises, were slipped into her pockets, or into her muff : this, however, could not be done unperceived ; and the malicious little gipsy took care that those who saw them slip in should likewise see them fall out, un- perused and imopened ; she only shook her muff", or pulled out her handkerchief ; as soon as ever his back was turned, his billets fell about her like hailstones, and whoever pleased might take them up. The duchess was frequently a witness of this conduct, but could not find 17 258 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. in her heart to chide her for her want of respect to the duke. After this, the charms and prudence of Miss Jennings were the only subjects of conversation in the two courts : the courtiers could not comprehend how a young creature, brought directly from the country to court, should so soon become its ornament by her attrac- tions, and its example by her conduct. The king was of opinion that those who had attacked her had ill-concerted their measures ; for he thought it unnatural that she should neither be tempted by prom- ises, nor gained by importunity : she, especiall)', who in all probability had not imbibed such severe precepts from the prudence of her mother, who had never tasted anything more delicious than the plums and apricots of Saint Albans.* Being resolved to try her himself, he was particularly pleased with the great novelty that ap- peared in the turn of her wit, and in the charms of her person ; and curiosity, which at first induced him to make the trial, was soon changed into a desire of suc- ceeding in the experiment. God knows what might have been the consequence, for he greatly excelled in wit, and besides he was king : two qualities of no small consideration. The resolutions of the fair Jennings were commendable, and very judicious ; but yet she was won- derfully pleased with wit ; and royal majesty prostrate at the feet of a young person, is very persuasive. Miss Stewart, however, would not consent to the king's pro- ject. She immediately took the alarm, and desired His Majesty to leave to the duke, his brother, the care of tutoring the duchess's maids of honor, and only to attend to the management of his own flock, unless His Majesty would in return allow her to listen to certain proposals of a settlement which she did not think disadvantageous. * This town is in the neighborhood of Sundridge, where Miss Jen- nings's family resided. MKMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 259 This menace bein.^^of a serious nature, the king obeyed ; and ISIiss Jennings had all the additional honor which arose from this adventnre : it both added to her reputa- tion, and increased the number of her admirers. Thus she continued to triumph over the liberties of others without ever losing her own : her hour was not yet come, but it was not far distant; the particulars of which we shall relate as soon as we have given some account of the conduct of her companion. Though ]\Iiss Temple's person was particularly engag- ing, it was nevertheless eclipsed by that of Miss Jen- nings ; but she was still more excelled by the other's superior mental accomplishments. Two persons, very capable to impart understanding, had the gift been com- municable, undertook at the same time to rob her of the little she really possessed : these were Lord Rochester and Miss Hobart : the first began to mislead her by read- ing to her all his compositions, as if she alone had been a proper judge of them. He never thought proper to flatter her upon her personal accomplishments ; hnt told her that if heaven had made him susceptible of the im- pressions of beauty, it would not have been possible for him to have escaped her chains ; but not being, thank God, affected with anything but wit, he had the happi- ness of enjoying the most agreeable conversation in the world without running any risk. After so sincere a con- fession, he either presented to her a copy of verses, or a new song, in which whoever dared to come in competi- tion in any respect with INIiss Temple was laid prostrate before her charms, most humbly to solicit pardon : such flattering insinuations so completely turned her head that it was a pity to see her. The duchess took notice of it, and well knowing the extent of both their geniuses, she saw the precipice into which the poor girl was running headlong without per- ceiving it : but as it is no less dangerous to forbid a con- nection that is not yet thought of, than it is difficult to 260 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. put an end to one that is already well established, Miss Hobart was charged to take care, with all possible dis- cretion, that these frequent and long conversations might not be attended with any dangerous consequences : with pleasure she accepted the commission, and greatly flat- tered herself with success. She had already made all necessary advances to gain possession of her confidence and friendship ; and IMiss Temple, less suspicious of her than of Lord Rochester, made all imaginable returns. She was greedy of praise, and loved all manner of sweetmeats, as much as a child of nine or ten years old : her taste was gratified in both these respects. Miss Hobart having the superintendence of the duchess's baths, her apartment joined them, in which there was a closet stored with all sorts of sweet- meats and liqueurs : the closet suited Miss Temple's taste, as exactly as it gratified Miss Hobart' s inclination, to have something that could allure her. Summer, being now returned, brought back with it the pleasures and diversions that are its inseparable at- tendants. One day when the ladies had been taking the air on horseback. Miss Temple, on her return from riding, alighted at Miss Hobart's, in order to recover her fatigue at the expense of the sweetmeats, which she knew were there at her service ; but before she began she desired Miss Hobart's permission to undress herself and change her linen in her apartment; which request was immedi- ately complied with: " I was just going to propose it to you," said Miss Hobart, " not but that you are as charm- ing as an angel in your riding habit, but there is nothing so comfortable as a loose dress, and being at one's ease : you cannot imagine, my dear Temple," continued she, embracing her, " how much you oblige me by this free, * unceremonious conduct; but, above all, I am enchanted with yom particular attention to cleanliness: how greatly you differ in this, as in many other things, from that silly creature, Jennings ! Have you remarked how all our MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 261 court fops admire her for her brilliant complexion, which perhaps, after all, is not wholly her own ; and for blun- ders, which are truly original, and which they are such fools as to mistake for wit: I have not conversed with her long enough to perceive in what her wit consists; but of this I am certain, that if it is not better than her feet, it is no great matter. What stories have I heard of her sluttishness ! No cat ever dreaded water so much as she does: fie upon her ! Never to wash for her own comfort, and only to attend to those parts which must necessarily be seen, such as the neck and hands." Miss Temple swallowed all this with even greater pleasure than the sweetmeats; and the officious Hobart, not to lose time, was helping her oflF with her clothes, while the chambermaid was coming. vShe made some objections to this at first, being unwilling to occasion that trouble to a person, who, like Miss Hobart, had been advanced to a place of dignity ; but she was over- ruled by her, and assured that it was with the greatest pleasure .she showed her that small mark of civility. The collation being finished, and Miss Temple undressed: "Let us retire," said Miss Hobart, "to the bathing- closet, where we may enjoy a little conversation secure from any impertinent visit." Miss Temple consented, and both of them sitting down on a couch: "You are too young, my dear Temple," .said she, " to know the baseness of men in general, and too short a time acquainted with the court to know the character of its inhabitants. I will give you a short sketch of the principal persons, to the best of my knowledge, without injury to any one, for I abominate the trade of scandal. " In the first place, then, you ought to .set it down as an undoubted fact that all courtiers are deficient either in honesty, good .sense, judgment, wit, or sincerity; that is to say, if any of them b}' chance po.ssess some one of these qualities, you may depend upon it he is defective in the rest : sumptuous in their equipages, deep play, a 262 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. great opinion of their own merit, and contempt of that of others, are their chief characteristics. "Interest or pleasure are the motives of all their ac- tions: those who are led by the first would sell God Al- mighty, as Jndas sold his Master, and that for less money. I conld relate you a thousand notable instances of this, if I had time. As for the sectaries of pleasure, or those who pretend to be such, for they are not all so bad as they en- deavor to make themselves appear, these gentlemen pay no manner of regard either to promises, oaths, law, or religion; that is to say, they are literally no respecters of persons; they care neither for God nor man, if they can but gain their ends. They look upon maids of honor only as amusements, placed expressly at court for their enter- tainment; and the more merit any one has, the more she is exposed to their impertinence, if she gives any ear to them; and to their malicious calumnies, when she ceases to attend to them. As for husbands, this is not the place to find them ; for unless money or caprice make up the match, there is but little hopes of being married: virtue and beauty in this respect here are equally useless. Lady Falmouth is the only instance of a maid of honor well married without a portion; and if you were to ask her poor weak husband for what reason he married her, I ana persuaded that he can assign none, unless it be her great red ears and broad feet. As for the pale Lady Yarborough, who appeared so proud of her match, she is wife, to be sure, of a great country bumpkin, who, the very week after their marriage, bid her take her farewell of the town forever, in consequence of five or six thou- sand pounds a year he enjoys on the borders of Cornwall. Alas ! poor Miss Blague ! I saw her go away about this time twelvemonth, in a coach with four such lean horses, that I cannot believe she is yet half way to her miserable little castle. What can be the matter ! all the girls seem afflicted with the rage of wedlock, and however small their portion of charms may be, they think it only nec- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 263 essary to show themselves at court in order to pick and choose their men : but was this in reality the case, the being a wife is the most wretched condition imaginable for a person of nice sentiments. Believe me, my dear Temple, the pleasures of matrimony are so inconsiderable in comparison with its inconveniences, that I cannot imagine how any reasonable creature can resolve upon it: rather fly, therefore, from this irksome engagement than court it. Jealousy, formerly a stranger to these happy isles, is now coming into fashion, with many re- cent examples of which you are acquainted. However brilliant the phantom may appear, suffer not yourself to be caught by its splendor, and never be so weak as to transform your slave into your tyrant : as long as you preserve your own liberty, you will be mistress of that of others. I will relate to you a very recent proof of the perfidy of man to our sex, and of the impunity they ex- perience in all attempts upon our innocence. The Earl of Oxford * fell in love with a handsome, graceful actress belonging to the duke's theatre, who performed to per- fection, particularly the part of Roxana, in a very fash- * This was Aubrey de Vere, the last Earl of Oxford of that name, and the twentieth and last earl of that family. He was chief justice in eyre; and in the reign of Charles II., lord of the bed-chamber, privy councillor, colonel of the royal regiment of horse guards, and lord- lieutenant of the county of Essex ; atid lieutenant-general of the forces in the reig:i of William III., and also knight of the garter. He died March 12, 1702, aged 80 years and upwards, and was buried in West- minster Abbey. The author of a Historv- of the English Stage, published by Curl, 1741, 8vo., says, that Mrs. Marshall, a celebrated actress, more known by the name of Roxana, from acting that part, was the person deceived by the FCarl of O.xford in this manner. The particulars of the story, as there related, do not materially vary from the present account of the transaction. A more detailed narrative of this seduction is given in Madame Dunois's Memoirs of the Court of England, part ii., p. 71. Mrs. Marshall, who was the original Roxana in Lee's Rival Queens, belonged not to the duke's, but the king's theatre. Lord Orford, I know not on what authority, has given the name of Mrs. Bar- ker to this lady ; a name totally unknown, I believe, in the annals of the stage. 264 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ionable new play, insomuch that she ever after retained that name : this creature being both very virtuous and very modest, or if you please, wonderfully obstinate, proudly rejected the addresses and presents of the Earl of Oxford. This resistance inflamed his passion: he had recourse to invectives, and even to spells; hnt all in vain. This disappointment had such an effect upon him that he could neither eat nor drink ; this did not signify to him; but his passion at length became so violent, that he could neither play nor smoke. In this extremity love had recourse to Hymen ; the Earl of Oxford, one of the first peers of the realm, is, you know, a very handsome man: he is of the order of the garter, which greatly adds to an air naturally noble. In short, from his outward appearance, you would suppose he was really possessed of some sense ; but as soon as ever you hear him speak, you are perfectly convinced of the contrary. This pas- sionate lover presented her with a promise of marriage, in due form, signed with his own hand: she would not, however, rely upon this, but the next day she thought there could be no danger, when the earl himself came to her lodgings attended by a clergyman, and another man for a witness : the marriage was accordingly solem- nized with all due ceremonies, in the presence of one of her fellow-players, who attended as a witness on her part. You will suppose, perhaps, that the new countess had nothing to do but to appear at court according to her rank, and to display the earl's arms upon her carriage. This was far from being the case. When examination was made concerning the marriage, it was found to be a mere deception ; it appeared that the pretended priest was one of my lord's trumpeters, and the witness his kettle-drummer. The parson and his companion never appeared after the ceremony was over; and as for the other witness, they endeavored to persuade her, that the Sultana Roxana might have supposed, in some part or other of a play, that she was really married. It was all MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 265 to no purpose, that the poor creature claimed the protec- tion of the laws of God and man, both which were vio- lated and abused, as well as herself, by this infamous imposition ; in vain did she throw herself at the king's feet to demand justice: she had only to rise up again without redress ; and happy might she think herself to receive an annuity of one thousand crowns, and to resume the name of Roxana, instead of Countess of Oxford. You will sa}-, perhaps, that she was only a player ; that all men have not the same sentiments as the earl ; and, that one may at least believe them, when they do but render justice to such merit as yours. But still do not believe them, though I know } ou are liable to it, as you have admirers; for all are not infatuated with Miss Jen- nings: the handsome Sidney ogles you ; Lord Rochester is delighted with your conversation; and the most serious Sir Lyttelton forsakes his natural gravity in favor of your charms. As for the first, I confess his figure is very likely to engage the inclinations of a young person like yourself ; but were his outward form attended with other accomplishments, which I know it is not, and that his sentiments in }-our favor were as real as he endeavors to persuade you they are, and as you deserve, yet I would not advise you to form any connections with him, for reasons which I cannot tell you at present. "Sir Lyttelton * is undoubtedly in earnest, since he appears ashamed of the condition to which you have reduced him ; and I really believe if he could get the better of those vulgar chimerical apprehensions, of being what is vulgarly called a cuckold, the good man would marry you, and you would be his representative in his little government, where you might merrily pass )'our days in casting up the weekly bills of housekeeping and in darning old napkins. What a glory would it be to have a Cato for a husband, whose speeches are as many * Sir Charles Lytteltou : of whom see note on p. 255. 266 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. lectures, and whose lectures are composed of nothing but ill-nature and censure ! " Lord Rochester is, without contradiction, the most witty man in all England ; but then he is likewise the most unprincipled, and devoid even of the least tincture of honor ; he is dangerous to our sex alone ; and that to such a degree that there is not a woman who gives ear to him three times but she irretrievably loses her reputa- tion. No woman can escape him, for he has her in his writings, thovigh his other attacks be ineffectual ; and in the age we live in, the one is as bad as the other in the eye of the public. In the meantime nothing is more dangerous than the artful, insinuating manner with which he gains possession of the mind: he applauds your taste, submits to your sentiments, and at the very instant that he himself does not believe a single word of what he is saying, he makes you believe it all. I dare lay a wager, that from the conversation you 'have had with him, you thought him one of the most honorable and sincerest men living; for my part I cannot imagine what he means by the assiduity he pays you : not but your accomplishments are sufficient to excite the adoration and praise of the whole world ; but had he even been so fortunate as to have gained your affections, he would not know what to do with the loveliest creature at court: for it is a long time since his debauches have brought him to order, with the assistance of the favors of all the com- mon street-walkers. See then, my dear Temple, what horrid malice possesses him, to the ruin and confusiou of innocence ! A wretch ! to have no other design in his addresses and assiduities to Miss Temple, but to give a greater air of probability to the calumnies with which he has loaded her. You look upon me with astonish- ment, and seem to doubt the truth of what I advance ; but I do not desire you to believe me without evidence : Here," said she, drawing a paper out of her pocket, "see what a copy of verses he has made in your praise, while MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 267 he hills your credulity to rest, by flattering speeches and feigned respect." After saj iug this, the perfidious Hobart showed her half-a-dozen couplets full of strained invective and scan- dal, which Rochester had made against the former maids of honor. This severe and cutting lampoon was prin- cipally levelled against Miss Price, whose person he took to pieces in the most frightful and hideous manner imaginable. Miss Hobart had substituted the name of Temple instead of Price, which she made to agree both with the measure and tune of the song. This effectually answered Hobart' s intentions : the credulous Temple no sooner heard her sing the lampoon, but she firmly be- lieved it to be made upon herself ; and in the first trans- ports of her rage, having 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 handsome as some others ; but as for the defects that villain charges me with, I dare say, my dear Hobart, there is no woman more free from them : we are alone, and I am almost inclined to con- vince you by ocular demonstration." Miss Hobart was too complaisant to oppose this motion ; but, although she soothed her mind by extolling all her beauties, in opposition to Lord Rochester's song, JNIiss Temple was almost driven to distraction by rage and astonishment, that the first man .she ever attended to should, in his conversation with her, not even make use of a single word of truth, but that he should likewise have the un- paralleled cruelty falsely to accuse her of defects ; and not being able to find w^ords capable of expressing her anger and resentment, she began to weep like a child. Miss Hobart used all her endeavors to comfort her, and chid her for being so much hurt with the invectives of a person whose scandalous impostures were too well known to make any impression : she, however, advised her never to speak to him any more, for that was the 268 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. only method to disappoint his designs ; that contempt and silence were, on such occasions, much preferable to any explanation, and that if he could once obtain a hear- ing, he would be justified, but she would be ruined. Miss Hobart was not wrong in giving her this counsel: she knew that an explanation would betray her, and that there would be no quarter for her if Lord Rochester had so fair an opportunit)' of renewing his former panegyrics upon her; but her precaution was in vain: this conversa- tion had been heard from one end to the other by the governess's niece, who was blessed with a most faithful memory; and having that very day an appointment with Lord Rochester, she conned it over three or four times, that she might not forget one single word, when she should have the honor of relating it to her lo^•er. We shall show in the next chapter what were the conse- quences resulting from it. M.\R\' KIRK (MISS WAKMI.STRH). CHAPTER X. The conversation before related was agreeable only to IMiss Hobart; for if IMiss Temple was entertained with its commencement, she was so much the more irritated b}' its conclusion : this indignation was succeeded by the curiosity of knowing the reason why, if Sidney had a real esteem for her, she should not be allowed to pay some attention to him. The tender-hearted Hobart, un- able to refuse her any request, promised her this piece of confidence, as soon as she should be secure of her conduct towards Lord Rochester : for this she only de- sired a trial of her sincerity for three days, after which she assured her she would acquaint her with ever)'thing she wished to know. IMiss Temple protested she no longer regarded Lord Rochester but as a monster of per- fidiousness, and vowed, by all that was sacred, that she would never listen to him, much less speak to him, as long as she lived. As soon as they retired from the closet. Miss Sarah came out of the bath, where, during all this conversa- tion, she had been almost perished with cold, without daring to complain. This little gipsy had, it seems, obtained leave of Miss Hobart's woman to bathe herself unknown to her mistress ; and having, I know not how, (269) 270 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. found means to fill one of the baths with cold water, Miss Sarah had just got into it, when they were both alarmed with the arrival of the other two. A glass par- tition enclosed the room where the baths were, and In- dian silk curtains, which drew on the inside, screened those that were bathing. Miss Hobart's chamber-maid had only just time to draw these curtains, that the girl might not be seen to lock the partition door, and to take away the key, before her mistress and Miss Temple came in. These two sat down on a couch placed along the par- tition, and ]\Iiss Sarah, notwithstanding her alarms, had distinctly heard, and perfectly retained the whole con- versation. As the little girl was at all this trouble to make herself clean, only on Lord Rochester's account, as soon as ever she could make her escape she regained her garret ; where Rochester, having repaired thither at the appointed hour, was fully informed of all that had passed in the bathing-room. He was astonished at the audacious temerity of Hobart in daring to put such a trick upon him ; but, though he rightly judged that love and jealousy were the real motives, he would not excuse her. lyittle Sarah desired to know whether he had a real affection for Miss Temple, as Miss Hobart said she supposed that was the case. "Can you doubt it," replied he, "since that oracle of sincerity has affirmed it? But then you know that I am not now capable of profiting by my perfidy, were I even to gain Miss Temple's com- pliance, since my debauches and the street-walkers have brought me to order." This answer made Miss Sarah very easy, for she con- cluded that the first article was not true, since she knew from experieuce that the latter was false. Lord Roches- ter was resolved that very evening to attend the duchess's court, to see what reception he would meet with after the fine portrait Miss Hobart had been so kind as to draw of him. Miss Temple did not fail to be there likewise, MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 271 with the intention of looking on him with the most con- temptuous disdain possible, though she had taken care to dress herself as well as she could. As she supposed that the lampoon INIiss Hobart had sung to her was in everybody's possession, she was under great embarrass- ment lest all those whom she met should think her such a monster as Lord Rochester had described her. In the meantime, Miss Hobart, who had not much confidence in her promises never more to speak to him, narrowly watched her. Miss Temple never in her life appeared so handsome : every person complimented her upon it ; but she received all the civilities with such an air, that every one thought she was mad ; for when they commended her shape, her fresh complexion, and the brilliancy of her eyes : " Pshaw ! " said she, "it is very well known that I am but a monster, and fonned in no respect like other women : all is not gold that glisters : and though I may receive some compliments in public, it signifies nothing." All Miss Hobart's endeavors to stop her tongue were ineffectual ; and continuing to rail at her- self ironically, the whole court was puzzled to compre- hend her meaning. When Lord Rochester came in, she first blushed, then turned pale, made a motion to go towards him, drew back again, pulled her gloves one after the other up to the elbow ; and after having three times violently flirted her fan, she waited until he paid his compliments to her as usual, and as soon as he began to bow, the fair one immediately turned her back upon him. Rochester only smiled, and being resolved that her resentment should be still more remarked, he turned round and posting himself face to face : " Madam," said he, "nothing can be so glorious as to look so charming as you do, after such a fatiguing day : to support a ride of three long hours, and Miss Hobart afterwards, without being tired, shows indeed a very strong constitution." Miss Temple had naturally a tender look, but she was 272 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. transported with such a violent passion at his having the audacity to speak to her, that her eyes appeared like two fireballs when she turned them upon hini. Hobart pinched her arm, as she perceived that this look was likely to be followed by a torrent of reproaches and in- vectives. lyord Rochester did not wait for them, and delaying until another opportunity the acknowledgments he owed Miss Hobart, he quietly retired. The latter, who could not imagine that he knew anything of their conversation at the bath, was, however, much alarmed at what he had said ; but Miss Temple, almost choked with the re- proaches with which she thought herself able to confound him and which she had not time to give vent to, vowed to ease her mind of them upon the first opportunity, not- withstanding the promise she had made ; but never more to speak to him afterwards. Lord Rochester had a faithful spy near these nymphs : this was Miss Sarah, who, by his advice, and with her aunt's consent, was reconciled with Miss Hobart, the more effectually to betray her : he was informed by this spy, that Miss Hobart's maid, being suspected of having listened to them in the closet, had been turned away ; that she had taken another, whom in all probability she would not keep long, because, in the first place, she was ugl)', 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 pmictuality and attention ; and a few days afterwards she brought him news of real impor- tance. Rochester was by her informed, that Miss Hobart and her new favorite designed, about nine o'clock in the evening to walk in the Mall, in the Park ; that they were to change clothes with each other, to put on scarfs, and wear black masks ; she added, that Miss Hobart had strongly opposed this project, but that she was obliged MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 273 to give way at last, Miss Temple having resolved to in- dulge her fancy. Upon the strength of this intelligence, Rochester con- certed his measures : he went to Killegrew, complained to him of the trick which Miss Hobart had played him, and desired his assistance in order to be revenged : this was readily granted, and having acquainted him with the measures he intended to pursue, and gi\-en him the part he was to act in this adventure, they went to the Mall. Presently after appeared our two nymphs in masquer- ade : their shapes were not very different, and their faces, which were very unlike each other, were con- cealed with their masks. The company was but thin in the Park ; and as soon as Miss Temple perceived them at a distance, she quickened her pace in order to join them, with the design, under her disguise, severely to reprimand the perfidious Rochester ; when I\Iiss Hobart stopping her : " Where are you running to?" said she ; " have you a mind to engage in conversation with these two devils, to be exposed to all the insolence and imper- tinence for which they are so notorious?" These re- monstrances were entirely useless : Miss Temple was re- solved to try the experiment : and all tliat could be ob- tained from her was, not to answer any of the questions Rochester might ask her. They were accosted just as they had done speaking : Rochester fixed upon Hobart, pretending to take her for the other ; at which she was overjoyed ; but Miss Tem- ple was extremely sorry she fell to Killegrew's share, with whom she had nothing to do : he perceived her uneasiness, and, pretending to know her by her clothes : "Ah ! Miss Hobart," said he, "be so kind as look this way if yoii please : I know not by what chance you both came hither, but I am sure it is very apropos for you, since I have something to say to you, as your friend and humble servant." 18 274 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. This beginning raising her curiosity, Miss Temple ap- peared more inclined to attend him; and Killegrew, perceiving that the other couple had insensibly proceeded some distance from them : "In the name of God," said he, "what do you mean by railing so against Lord Rochester, whom you know to be one of the most honor- able men at court, and whom you nevertheless described as the greatest villain to the person whom of all others he esteems and respects the most? What do you think would become of you, if he knew that you made Miss Temple believe that she is the person alluded to in a cer- tain song, which you know as well as myself was made upon the clumsy Miss Price, above a year before the fair Temple was heard of? Be not surprised that I know so much of the matter, but pay a little attention, I pray you, to what I am now going to tell you out of pure friend- ship : your passion and inclinations for Miss Temple are known to every one but herself ; for whatever methods you used to impose upon her innocence, the world does her the justice to believe that she would treat you as Lady Falmouth did, if the poor girl knew the wicked designs you had upon her: I caution you, therefore, against making any further advances to a person too modest to listen to them : I advise you likewise to take back youv maid again, in order to silence her scandalous tongue ; for she says everywhere that she is with child, that you are the occasion of her being in that condition, and ac- cuses you of behaving towards her with the blackest ingratitude, upon trifling suspicions only: you know very well, these are no stories of my own invention ; but that you may not entertain any manner of doubt, that I had all this from her own mouth ; she has told me }'our conversation in the bathing-room ; the characters you there drew of the principal men at court ; your artful malice in applying so improperly a scandalous song to one of the loveliest women in all England; and in what manner the innocent girl fell into the snare you had laid MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 275 for her, in order to do justice to her charms. But that which nii<;ht be of the most fatal consequences to you in that long^ conversation, is the revealing certain secrets, which, in all probability, the duchess did not entrust you with, to be imparted to the maids of honor : reflect upon this, and neglect not to make some reparation to Sir Lyttelton, for the ridicule with which you were pleased to load him. I know not whether he had his information from your femme-de-chambre, but I am very certain that he has sworn he will be revenged, and he is a man that keeps his word ; for after all, that you may not be deceived by his look, like that of a Stoic, and his gravity, like that of a judge, I must acquaint you, that he is the most passionate man living. Indeed, these in- vectives are of the blackest and most horrible nature: he says it is most infamous, that a wretch like yourself should find no other employment than to blacken the characters of gentlemen to gratify your jealousy; that if you do not desist from such conduct for the future, he will immediately complain of you; and that if her Royal Highness will not do him justice, he is determined to do himself justice, and to run you through the body with his own sword, though you were even in the arms of ]\Iiss Temple, and that it is most scandalous that all the maids of honor should get into your hands before they can look around them. "These things, madam, I thought it my duty to ac- quaint you with : you are better able to judge than my- self, whether what I have now advanced be true, and I leave it to your own discretion to make what use you think proper of my advice; but were I in your situa- tion, I would endeavor to reconcile Lord Rochester and Mi.ss Temple. Once more I recommend to } ou to take care that your endeavors to mislead her innocency, in order to blast his honor, may not come to his knowledge; and do not estrange from her a man who tenderly loves her, and whose probity is so great, that he would not 276 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOXT. even suffer his eyes to wander towards her, if his inten- tion was not to make her his wife." INIiss Temple observed her promise most faithfully dur- ing this discourse: she did not even utter a single syllable, being seized with such astonishment and confusion, that she quite lost the use of her tongue. Miss Hobart and Lord Rochester came up to her, while she was still in amazement at the wonderful dis- coveries she had made; things in themselves, in her opinion, almost incredible, but to the truth of which she could not refuse her assent, upon examining the evi- dences and circumstances on which they were founded. Never was confusion equal to that with which her whole frame was seized b}' the foregoing recital. Rochester and Killegrew took leave of them before she recovered from her surprise; but as soon as she had regained the free use of her senses, she hastened back to St. James, without answering a single question that the other put to her ; and having locked herself up in her chamber, the first thing she did, was immediately to strip 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 migfht be : she blushed at the familiarities she had been drawn into with a creature, whose maid was with child, though she never had been in any other service but hers: she there- fore returned her all her clothes, ordered her serv ant to bring back all her own, and resolved never more to have any connection with her. INIiss Hobart, on the other hand, who supposed Killegrew had mistaken IMiss Tem- ple for herself, could not comprehend what could induce her to give herself such surprising airs, since that conver- sation; but being desirous to come to an explanation, she ordered Miss Temple's maid to remain in her apartments, and went to call upon Miss Temple herself, instead of sending back her clothes; and being desirous to give her MEMOIRS OF COUNT ORAJIIMONT. 277 some proof of friendship before they entered npon expos- tulations, she slipped softly into her chamber, when she was in the very act of changino; her linen, and embraced her. IMiss Temple finding herself in her arms before she had taken notice of her, everything that Killegrew had mentioned, appeared to her imagination: she fancied that she saw in her looks the eagerness of a satyr, or, if possible, of some monster still more odious; and disengag- ing herself with the highest indignation from her arms, she began to shriek and cry in the most terrible manner, calling both heaven and earth to her assistance. The first whom her cries raised were the governess and her niece. It was near twelve o'clock at night : Miss Temple in her shift, almost frightened to death, was pu.shing back with horror Miss Hobart, who ap- proached her with no other intent than to know the occasion of these transports. As soon as the governess saw this scene, she began to lecture Miss Hobart with all the eloquence of a real duenna: she demanded of her, whether she thought it was for her that her Royal High- ness kept the maids of honor? whether she was not ashamed to come at such an unseasonable time of night into their very apartments to conunit such violences? and swore that she would, the very next day, complain to the duchess. All this confirmed IMiss Temple in her mistaken notions: and Hobart was obliged to go away at last, without being able to convince or bring to reason creatures, whom she believed to be either distracted or mad. The next day Miss Sarah did not fail to relate this adventure to her lover, telling him how Miss Tem- ple's cries had alarmed the maids of honor's apartment, and how herself and her aunt, running to her a.ssistance, had almost surprised Miss Hobart in the very act. Two days after, the whole adventure, with the addition of several embellishments, was made public : the gover- ness swore to the truth of it, and related in every com- pany what a narrow escape IMiss Temple had experi- 278 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. enced, and that Miss Sarah, her niece, had preserved her honor, because, by Lord Rochester's excellent advice, she had forbidden her all manner of connection with so dangerous a person. Miss Temple was after- wards informed, that the song that had so greatly pro- voked her alluded to Miss Price only : this was con- firmed to her by every person, with additional execrations against Miss Hobart, for such a scandalous imposition. Such great coldness after so much familiarity, made many believe, that this adventure was not altogether a fiction. This had been sufficient to have disgraced Miss Hobart at court, and to have totally ruined her reputation in London, had she not been, upon the present, as well as upon a former occasion, supported by the duchess : her Royal Highness pretended to treat the whole story as romantic and visionary, or as solely arising from private pique : she chid Miss Temple, for her impertinent credulity : turned away the governess and her niece, for the lies with which she pretended they supported the imposture ; and did many improper things in order to re-establish Miss Hobart's honor, which, however, she failed in accomplishing. She had her reasons for not entirely abandoning her, as will appear in the sequel. Miss Temple, who continually reproached herself with injustice, with respect to Lord Rochester, and who, upon the faith of Killegrew's word, thought him the most honorable man in England, was only solicitous to find out some opportunity of easing her mind, by making him some reparation for the rigor with which she had treated him : these favorable dispositions, in the hands of a man of his character, might have led to conse- quences of which she was not aware ; but heaven did not allow him an opportunity of profiting by them. Ever since he had first appeared at court he seldom failed being banished from it, at least once in the year ; for whenever a word presented itself to his pen, or to MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 279 his tongue, he immediately committed it to paper, or produced it in conversation, without any manner of re- gard to the consequences ; the ministers, the mistresses, and even the king himself, were frequently the subjects of his sarcasms ; and had not the prince, whom he thus treated, been possessed of one of the most forgiving and gentle tempers, his first disgrace had certainly been his last. Just at the time that Miss Temple was desirous of seeing him, in order to apologize for the uneasiness which the infamous calumnies and black aspersions of Miss Hobart had occasioned both of them, he was forbid the court for the third time : he departed without having seen Miss Temple, carried the disgraced governess down with him to his country seat, and exerted all his en- deavors to cultivate in her niece some dispositions which she had for the stage ; but though she did not make the same improvement in this line, as she had by his other instructions, after he had entertained both the niece and the aimt for some months in the coimtry, he got her entered in the king's company of comedians the next winter ; and the public was obliged to him for the prettiest, but at the same time, the worst actress in the kingdom.* * Though no name is given to this lady, there are circumstances enough mentioned to fix on the celebrated Mrs. Barry, as the person intended hy the author. Mrs. Barry was introduced to the stage by Lord Rochester, with whom she had an intrigue, the fruit of which was a daughter, who lived to the age of thirteen years, and is often men- tioned in his collection of love-letters, printed in his works, which were written to Mrs. Barry. On her first theatrical attempts, so little hopes were entertained of her, that she was, as Cibber declares, discharged from the company at the end of the first year, among others that were thought to be a useless expense to it. She was well born ; being daughter of Robert Barrj-, Esq., barrister at law ; a gentleman of an ancient family and good estate, who hurt his fortune by his attachment to Charles I. ; for whom he raised a regiment at his own expense. Tony Aston, in his Supplement to Gibber's Apoloffy. s.a.ys, she was woman to lady Shelton of Norfolk, who might have belonged to the court. Curl, however, says, 280 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. About this time Talbot retiirned from Ireland : lie soon felt the absence of Miss Hamilton, who was then in the country with a relation, whom w^e shall mention hereafter. A remnant of his former tenderness still subsisted in his heart, notwithstanding his absence, and the promises he had given the Chevalier de Grammont at parting : he now therefore endeavored to banish her entirely from his thoughts, by fixing his desires upon some other object ; but he saw no one in the queen's new court whom he thought worthy of his attention : Miss Boynton,* however, thought him worthy of hers. she was early taken under the patronage of Lady Davenant. Both these accounts may be true. The time of her appearance on the stage was probably not much earlier than 1671 ; in which year she performed in Tom Essence, and was, it may be conjectured, about the age of nineteen. Curl mentions the great pains taken by Lord Rochester in instructing her ; which were repaid by the rapid progress she daih' made in her profession. She at last eclipsed all her competitors, and in the part of Monimia established her reputation. From her performance in this character, in that of Belvidera, and of Isabella, in the Fatal Marriage, Downes says she acquired the name of the famous Mrs. Barry, both at court and in the city. "Mrs. Barry," says Dr3'den, in his Preface to Cleomenes, " always excellent, has in this tragedy excelled herself, and gained a reputation beyond any woman I have ever seen on the theatre." " In characters of greatness," says Cibber, " Mrs. Barry had a presence of elevated dignity ; her mien and motion superb, and grace- fully majestic ; her voice full, clear, and strong ; so that no violence of passion could be too nmch for her ; and when distress or tenderness possessed her, she subsided into the most affecting melody and softness. In the art of exciting pity, she had a power beyond all the actresses I have yet seen, or what your imagination can conceive. In scenes of anger, defiance, or resentment, while she was impetuous and terrible, she poured out the sentiment with an enchanting harmony ; and it was this particular excellence for which Dr3-den made her the above-recited compliment, upon her acting Ca.ssandra in his Cleomenes. She was the first person whose merit was distinguished by the indulgence of ha\'ing 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." — Cibber' s Apology, 1750, p. 133. She died 7th November, 1713, and was buried at Acton. The inscription over her remains says she was 55 years of age. * Daughter of Matthew Boynton, second son of Sir Matthew Boyutou MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 281 Her person was slender and delicate, to which a good complexion and large motionless e>-es gave at a distance an appearance of beauty, that vanished upon nearer in- spection : she affected to lisp, to languish, and to have two or three fainting-fits a da)-. The first time that Talbot cast his eyes upon her she was seized with one of these fits : he was told that she swooned awa\- upon his account : he believed it, was eager to afford her as- sistance ; and ever after that accident showed her some kindness, more with the intention of saving her life, than to express any affection he felt for her. This seem- ing tenderness was well received, and at first she was visibly affected by it. Talbot was one of the tallest men in England, and in all appearance one of the most ro- bust ; yet she showed sufficiently that she was willing to expose the delicacy of her constitution, to whatever might happen, in order to become his wife ; which event perhaps might then have taken place, as it did after- wai'ds, 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 singular that discretion and sprightliness should be so intimately united in a person so }oung, more particularly in the midst of a court where love and gallantry were .so much in fashion ; but he found her personal accomplishments greatly to exceed whatever fame had reported of them. As it was not long before he perceived he was in love, neither was it long before he made a declaration of it : as his passion was likely enough to be real, Miss Jennings thought she might believe him, without exposing her- of Barmston, in Yorkshire. The sister of this lady married the cele- brated Earl of Roscommon. 282 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. self to the imputation of vanity. Talbot was possessed of a fine and brilliant exterior, his manners were noble and majestic : besides this, he was particv;larly distin- giiished by the favor and friendship of the duke ; but his most essential merit, with her, was his forty thousand pounds a-year, landed property, besides his employ- ments. All these qualities came within the rules and maxims she had resolved to follow with respect to lovers: thus, though he had not the satisfaction to obtain from her an entire declaration of her sentiments, he had at least the pleasure of being better received than those who had paid their addresses to her before him. No person attempted to interrupt his happiness ; and Miss Jennings, perceiving that the duchess approved of Talbot's pretensions, and after having well weighed the matter, and consulted her own inclinations, found that her reason was more favorable to him than her heart, and that the most she could do for his satisfaction was to marry him without reluctance. Talbot, too fortunate in a preference which no man had before experienced, did not examine whether it was to her heart or to her head that he was indebted for it, and his thoughts were solely occupied in hastening the accomplishment of his wishes : one would have sworn that the happy minute was at hand ; but love would no longer be love, if he did not delight in obstructing, or in overturning the happiness of those who live under his dominion. Talbot, who found nothing reprehensible either in the person, in the conversation, or in the reputation of Miss Jennings, was however rather concerned at a new acquaintance she had lately fonned ; and having taten upon him to give her some cautions upon this subject, she was much displeased at his conduct. Miss Price, .formerly maid of honor, that had been set aside, as we have before mentioned, upon her leaving the duchess's service, had recourse to Lady Castlemaine's MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 283 protection : she had a very entertaining wit : her com- plaisance was adapted to all humors, and her own humor was possessed of a fund of gaiety and sprightliness which diffused universal mirth and merriment wherever she came. Her acquaintance with Miss Jennings was prior to Talbot's. As she was thoroughly acquainted with all the in- trigues of the court, she related them without an)- man- ner of reserve to Miss Jennings, and her own with the same frankness as the others : Miss Jennings was ex- tremely well pleased with her stories ; for though she was determined to make no experiment in love, but upon honorable terms, she however was desirous of knowing from her recitals all the different intrigues that were carrying on : thus, as she was never wearied with her conversation, she was overjoyed whenever she could see her. Talbot, who remarked the extreme relish she had for Miss Price's company^ thought that the reputation such a woman had in the world might prove injurious to his mistress, more especially from the particular intimacy there seemed to exist between them : whereupon, in the tone of a guardian rather than a lover, he took upon him to chide her for the disreputable company she kept. Miss Jennings was haughty be)'ond conception, when once she took it into her head ; and as she liked Miss Price's conversation much better than Talbot's, she took the liberty of desiring him "to attend to his own affairs, and that if he only came from Ireland to read lectures about her conduct, he might take the trouble to go back as soon as he pleased." He was offended at a sally which he thought ill-timed, considering the situation of affairs between them ; and went out of her presence more abruptly than became the respect due from a man greatly in love. He for some time appeared offended ; but perceiving that he gained nothing by such conduct, he grew weary of acting that part, and assumed that of 284 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. an humble lover, in which he was equally unsuccessfnl; neither his repentance nor submissions could produce any effect upon her, and the mutinous little gipsy was still in her pouts when Jermyn returned to court. It was above a year since he had triumphed over the weakness of Lady Castlemaine, and above two since the king had been weary of his tritmiphs : his uncle, being one of the first who perceived the king's disgust, obliged him to absent himself from court, at the very time that orders were going to be issued for that purpose ; for though the king's affections for Lady Castlemaine were now greatly diminished, yet he did not think it consistent with his dignity that a mistress, whom he had honored with public distinction, and who still received a con- siderable support from him, should appear chained to the car of the most ridiculous conqueror that ever ex- isted. His Majesty had frequently expostulated with the countess upon this subject : but his expostulations were never attended to ; it was in one of these differences that he, advising her rather to bestow her favors upon Jacob Hall, the rope-dancer, who was able to return them, than lavish away her money upon Jermyn to no purpose, since it would be more honorable for her to pass for the mis- tress of the first, than for the very humble servant of the other, she was not proof against his raillery. The im- petuosity of her temper broke forth like lightning : she told him " that it very ill became him to throw out such reproaches against one who, of all the women in Eng- land, deserved them the least ; that he had never ceased quarrelling thus unjustly with her, ever since he had be- trayed his own mean, low inclinations ; that to gratify such a depraved taste as his, he wanted only such silly things as vStewart, Wells, and that pitiful strolling ac- tress,* whom he had lately introduced into their so- ciety." Floods of tears, from rage, generally attended * Probabl}' Nell Gwyn. MEMOIRS OK COUNT GRAMMONT. 285 these storms ; after which, resuniinj; the part of Medea, the scene closed with menaces of tearin<;- her children in pieces and setting his palace on fire. What conrse could he pursue with such an outrageous fury, who, beautiful as she was, resembled Medea less than her dragons, when she was thus enraged ! The indulgent monarch loved peace; and as he seldom contended for it on these occasions without paying some- thing to obtain it, he was obliged to be at great expense, in order to reconcile this last rupture : as they could not agree of themselves, and both parties equally complained, the Chevalier de Grammont was chosen, by mutual con- sent, mediator of the treat}'. The grievances and pre- tensions on each side were communicated to him, and what is very extraordinary, he managed so as to please them both. Here follow the articles of peace which they agreed to : "That Lady Castleniaine should forever abandon Jermyn ; that as a proof of her sincerity, and the reality of his disgrace, she should consent to his being sent, for some time, into the country ; that she should not rail any more against Miss Wells, nor storm any more against Miss Stewart; and this without any restraint on the king's behavior towards her: that in consideration of these con- descensions, his majesty should immediately give her the title of duchess,* with all the honors and privileges thereunto belonging, and an addition to her pension, in order to enable her to support the dignity." As soon as this peace was proclaimed, the political critics, who, in all nations, never fail to censure all state proceedings, pretended that the mediator of this treaty, being every day at pla\' with Lady Castleniaine, and never losing, had, for his own sake, insisted a little too strongly upon this last article. * The title of Duchess of Cleveland was conferred on her 3(1 August, 22 Charles II., 1670. 286 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOXT. Some days after, she was created Duchess of Cleve- land, and little Jermyn repaired to his country-seat : however, it was in his power to have returned in a fort- night ; for the Chevalier de Grammont, having procured the king's permission, carried it to the Earl of St. Al- bans : this revived the good old man; but it was to little purpose he transmitted it to his nephew ; for whether he wished to make the London beauties deplore and lament his absence, or whether he wished them to declaim against the injustice of the age, or rail against the tyranny of the prince, he continued above half a year in the countr}', setting up for a little philosopher, under the eyes of the sportsmen in the neighborhood, who re- garded 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 INIiss Jennings : he did not, however, pay much attention to what his friends wrote to him con- cerning her charms, being persuaded he had seen equally as great in others : what was related to him of her pride and resistance appeared to him of far greater conse- quence ; and to subdue the last, he even looked upon as an action worthy of his prowess ; and quitting his re- treat for this purpose, he arrived in London at the time that Talbot, who was really in love, had quarrelled, in his opinion, so unjustly with Miss Jennings. She had heard Jermyn spoken of as a hero in affairs of love and gallantry. Miss Price, in the recital of those of the Duchess of Cleveland, had often mentioned him, without in any respect diminishing the insignificancy with which fame insinuated he had conducted himself in those amorous encounters : she nevertheless had the greatest curiosity to .see a man, whose entire person, she thought, must be a moving trophy, and monument of the favors and freedoms of the fair sex. Thus Jermyn arrived at the right time to satisfy her curiosity by his presence; and though his brilliancy MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 287 appeared a little tarnished by his residence in the conn- try; thongh his head was larger and his legs more slender than nsnal, yet the giddy girl thought she had never seen any man so perfect; and yielding to her destiny, she fell in love with him, a thousand times more unaccountably than all the others had done before her. Everybody remarked this change of conduct in her with surprise ; for they expected something more from the delicacy of a person who, till this time, had be- haved with so much propriety in all her actions. Jermyn was not in the least surprised at this conquest, though not a little proud of it ; for his heart had very soon as great a share in it as his vanity. Talbot, who saw with amazement the rapidity of this triumph, and the disgrace of his own defeat, was ready to die with jealousy and spite ; yet he thought it would be more to his credit to die than to vent those passions unprofitably; and shielding himself iinder a feigned indifference, he kept at a distance to view how far such an extravagant prepossession would proceed. In the meantime Jermyn quietly enjoyed the happi- ness of seeing the inclinations of the prettiest and most extraordinary creature in England declared in his fa- vor. The duchess, who had taken her under her pro- tection ever since she had declined placing herself under that of the duke, .sounded Jermyn' s intentions towards her, and was satisfied with the assurances she received from a man, whose probity infinitely exceeded his merit in love: he therefore let all the court see that he was willing to marry her, though, at the same time, he did not appear particularly desirous of hastening the con- summation. Every person now complimented Miss Jennings upon having reduced to this situation the terror of husbands and the plague of lovers : the court was in full expectation of this miracle, and Miss Jen- nings of a near approaching happy settlement : but in this world one must have forttine in one's favor, before one can calculate with certainty upon happiness. 288 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. The king did not nse to let Lord Rochester remain so long in exile: he grew weary of it, and being displeased tliat he was forgotten, he posted up to London to wait till it might be His Majesty's pleasure to recall him. He first took up his habitation in the city, among the capital tradesmen and rich merchants, where politeness indeed is not so much cultivated as at court ; but where pleasure, luxury, and abundance reign with less confu- sion, and more sincerity. His first design was only to be initiated into the mysteries of those fortunate and happy inhabitants: that is to say, by changing his name and dress, to gain admittance to their feasts and enter- tainments; and, as occasion olfered, to those of their loving spouses; as he was able to adapt himself to all capacities and humors, he soon deeply insinuated him- self into the esteem of the siibstantial wealthy aldermen, and into the affections of their more delicate, magnificent, and tender ladies: he made one in all their feasts, and at all their assemblies ; and, whilst in the company of the husbands, he declaimed against the faults and mistakes of government, he joined their wives in railing against the profligacy of the court ladies, and in inveighing against the king's mistresses: he agreed with them that the industrious poor were to pay for these cursed extrav- agances; that the city beauties were not inferior to those of the other end of the town, and yet a sober husband in this quarter of the town was satisfied with one wife ; after which, to out-do their murmurings, he said, that he wondered Whitehall was not yet consumed by fire from heaven, since such rakes as Rochester, Killegrew, and Sidney were 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 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOXT. 293 towards him, and offered him her basket, whilst Price, more used to the language, desired him to buy her fine oranges. " Not now," said he, looking at them with attention ; "but if thou wilt to-morrow morning bring this young girl to my lodgings, 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 MISS I'RICJi. Jennings forget the part she was acting, after having pushed him away with all the violence she was able, she told him with indignation that it was very insolent to dare — "Ha! ha!" said he, "here's a rarity indeed ! a young w — , who, the better to sell her goods, sets up for virtue, and pretends innocence !" Price immediately perceived that nothing could be gained by continuing any longer in so dangerous a place; and, taking her companion under the arm, she dragged 294 MEMOIRvS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. her away, while she was still in emotion at the insult that had been offered to her. Miss Jennings, resolving to sell no more oranges on these terms, was tempted to return, without accomplish- ing the other adventure ; but Price having represented to her the disgrace of such cowardly behavior, more particularly after having before manifested so much resolution, she consented to go and pay the astrologer a short visit, so as they might be enabled to regain the palace before the play was ended. They had one of the doctor's bills for a direction, but there was no occasion for it ; for the driver of the coach they had taken told them he knev/ very well the place they wanted, for he had already carried above an hun- dred persons to the German doctor's: they were within half a street of his house, when fortune thought proper to play them a trick. Brounker * had dined b}' chance with a merchant in that part of the city, and just as he was going away they ordered their coach to stop, as ill-luck would have it, just opposite to him. Two orange girls in a hackney coach, one of whom appeared to have a very pretty face, immediately drew his attention; besides, he had a natural curiosity for such objects. Of all the men at court, he had the least regard for the * Gentleman of the clianiber to the Duke of York, and brother to Lord Viscount Brounker, president of the roj al society. Lord Claren- don imputes to him the cause of the great sea-fight, in 1665, not being so well improved as it might have been, and adds, " nor did the duke come to hear of it till some years after, when Mr. Brounker's ill course of life, and his abominable nature, had rendered him so odious that it was taken notice of in parliament, and, upon examination, found to be true, as is here related ; upon which he was expelled the house of com- mons, whereof he was a member, as an infamous person, though his friend Coventry adhered to him, and used many indirect acts to have protected him, and afterwards procured him to have more countenance from the king than most men thought he deserved." — Continuation of Clarendon' s Life, p. 270. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 29") fair sex, and the least attention to their reputation : he was not young, nor was his person agreeable ; however, with a great deal of wit, he had a violent passion for women. He did himself justice respecting his own merit ; and, being persuaded that he could only succeed with those who were desirous of having his money, he was at open war with all the rest. He had a little country-house four or five miles from London always well stocked with girls: * in other respects he was a very honest man, and the best chess-player in England. Price, alarmed at being thus closely examined by the most dangerous enemy they could encounter, turned her head the other way, bid her companion do the same, and told the coachman to drive on. Brounker followed them unperceived on foot ; and the coach having stopped twenty or thirty yards farther itp the street, they alighted. He was just behind them, and formed the same judgment of them which a man much more charit- able to the sex must unavoidably have done, concluding that Miss Jennings was a young courtesan upon the look- out, and that Miss Price was the mother-abbess. He was, however, surprised to see them have much better shoes and stockings than women of that rank generally wear, and that the little orange girl, in getting out of a very high coach, .showed one of the handsomest legs he had ever seen : but as all this was no obstruction to his designs, he resolved to purchase her at any rate, in order to place her in his seraglio. He came up to them as they were giving their baskets in guard to the coachman, with orders to wait for them exactly in that place. Brounker immediately pushed in between them: as soon as they saw him, they gave them- selves up for lost; but he, without taking the least notice * Brounker, Love's squire, through all the field array'd, No troop was better clad, nor so well paid. — Andrew jMarvell's Poems, vol. ii., p. 94. 296 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. of their surprise, took Price aside with one hand, and his purse with the other, and began immediately to enter upon business, hut was astonished to perceive that she turned away her face, without either answering or look- ing at him : As this conduct appeared to him unnatural, he stared her full in the face, notwithstanding all her endeavors to prevent him : he did the same to the other: and immediately recognised them, but determined to conceal his discovery. The old fox possessed a wonderful command of temper on such occasions, and having teazed them a little longer to remove all suspicions he quitted them, telling Price : " That she was a great fool to refuse his offers, and that her girl would not, perhaps, get so miich in a year as she might with him in one day ; that the times were greatly changed since the queen's and the duchess's maids of honor forestalled the market, and were to be had cheaper than the town ladies." Upon this he went back to his coach, whilst they blessed themselves, re- turning heaven their most hearty thanks for having escaped this danger without being discovered. Brounker, on the other hand, would not have taken a thousand guineas for this rencounter : he blessed the 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 over- whelmed them with confusion. Upon this account, although Jermyn was one of his best friends, he felt a secret joy in not having prevented his being made a cuckold, before his marriage ; and the apprehension he was in of preserving him from that acci- dent was his sole reason for quitting them with the pre- cautions aforementioned. Whilst they were under these alarms, their coachman MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 289 retreated into one of the most obscure corners of the city; where, again changing both his name and dress, in order to act a new part, he caused bills to be dispersed, giving notice of "The recent arrival of a famous German doc- tor,* who, by long application and experience, had found out wonderful secrets, and infallible remedies." His secrets consisted in knowing what was past, and foretelling what was to come, by the assistance of astrol- ogy: and the virtue of his remedies principally consisted in giving present relief to unfortunate young women in all manner of diseases, and all kinds of accidents inci- dent to the fair sex, either from too unbounded charity to their neighbors, or too great indulgence to them- selves. His first practice being confined to his neighborhood, was not very considerable ; but his reputation soon extending to the other end of the town, there pres- ently flocked to him the women attending on the court, next, the chambermaids of ladies of quality, who, upon the wonders they related concerning the German doctor, were soon followed by some of their mistresses. Among all the compositions of a ludicrous and satir- ical kind, there never existed any that could be compared to those of Lord Rochester, either for humor, fire, or wit; but, of all his works, the most ingenious and euter- * Hisbop Buniet confirnis this account. — "Being under an unlucky accident, which ohhged him to keep out of the way, he disguised him- self so, that his nearest friends could not have known him, and set up in Tower Street for an Italian mountebank, where he practised physic for some weeks, not without success. In his latter years he read books of history more. He took pleasure to disguise himself as a porter, or as a beggar, sometimes to follow some mean amours, which, for the variety of them, he affected. At other times, merely for diversion, he would go about in odd shapes ; in which he acted his part so naturally, that even those who were in the secret, and saw him in these shapes, could perceive nothing by which he might be discovered." — BunicCs Life of Rochester, ed. 1774, p. 14. 19 290 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. taiiiing is that which contains a detail of the intrigues and adventures in which he was engaged while he pro- fessed medicine and astrology in the suburbs of London. The fair Jennings was very near getting a place in this collection; but the adventure that prevented her from it, did not, however, conceal from the public her intention of paying a visit to the German doctor. The first chambermaids that considted him were only those of the maids of honor; who had niimberless ques- tions to ask, and not a few doubts to be resolved, both on their own and their mistresses' accounts. Notwith- standing their disguise, he recognized some of them, particularly Miss Temple's and Miss Price's maids, and her whom Miss Hobart had lately discarded: these creatures all returned either filled with wonder and amazement, or petrified with terror and fear. Miss Temple's chambermaid deposed that he assured her she would have the small-pox, and her mistress the great, within two months at the farthest, if her aforesaid mis- tress did not guard against a man in woman's clothes. Miss Price's woman affirmed that, without knowing her, and only looking in her hand, he told her at first sight, that, according to the course of the stars, he perceived that she was in the service of some good-natured lady, who had no other fault than that of loving wine and men. In short, every one of them, struck with some particular circumstance relating to their own private affairs, had either alarmed or diverted their mistresses with the account, not failing, according to custom, to embellish the truth, in order to enhance the wonder. Miss Price, relating these circumstances one day to her new friend, the devil immediately tempted her to go in person, and see what sort of a creature this new magi- cian was. This enterprise was certainly very rash ; but nothing was too rash for Miss Jennings, who was of opinion that a woman might despise appearances, pro- vided she was in reality virtuous. Miss Price was all MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 291 compliance, and thus having fixed upon this olorious resolution, they only thought of the proper means of putting it into execution. It was very difficult for Miss Jennings to disguise her- self, on account of her excessiv-e fair and bright com- plexion, and of something particular in her air and manner : however, after having well considered the matter, the best disguise they could think of was to dress themselves like orange girls.* This was no sooner resolved upon, but it was put in execution : the}- attired themselves alike, and, taking each a basket of oranges under their arms, they embarked in a hackney coach, and committed themselves to fortune, without any other escort than their own caprice and indiscretion. The duchess was gone to the play with her sister : Miss Jennings had excused herself under pretence of in- disposition : she was overjoyed at the happy commence- * These frolics appear to have been not unfreqnent with persons of high rank at this period. In a letter from Mr. Henshaw to Sir Robert Paston, afterwards Earl of Yarmouth, dated October 13, 1670, we have the following account : " La.st week, there being a faire neare Audley-end, the queen, the Dutchess of Richmond, and the Dutchess of Buckingham, had a frolick to disguise themselves like country lasses, in red petticotes, wastcotes, &c., and so goe see the faire. Sir Barnard Gascoign, on a cart jade, rode before the queen ; another stranger before the Dutchess of Buckingham ; and Mr. Roper before Richmond. They had all so overdone it in their disguise, and looked so umch 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 vSir Bernard asking for a pair of gloves sticht with blew, for his sweet hart, they were soon, by their gebrish, found to be strangers, which drew a bigger flock about them. One amongst them had seen the queen at dinner, knew her, and was proud of her knowledge. This soon brought all the faire into a crowd to stare at the queen. Being thus discovered, they, as soon as they could, got to their horses ; but as many of the faire as had horses got up, with their wives, children, sweet harts, or neighbors, behind them, to get as much gape as they could, till tliey brought them to the court gate. Thus, by ill conduct, was a merry frolick turned into a ^&i\a.\\ce."—lve's Select Papers, p. 39. 292 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. merit of their adventure ; for they had disguised them- selves, had crossed the Park, and taken their hackney coach at Whitehall gate, without the least accident. They mutually congratulated each other upon it, and Miss Price, taking a beginning so prosperous as a good omen of their success, asked her companion what they were to do at the fortune-teller's, and what they should propose to him. Miss Jennings told her that, for her part, curiosity was her principal inducement for going thither ; that, how- ever, she was resolved to ask him, without naming any person, why a man, who was in love with a handsome young lady, was not urgent to marry her, since this was in his power to do, and by so doing he would have an opportunity of gratifying his desires. Miss Price told her, smiling, that, without going to the astrologer, noth- ing was more easy than to explain the enigma, as she herself had almost given her a solution of it in the narra- tive of the Duchess of Cleveland's adventures. Having by this time nearly arrived at the playhouse, Miss Price, after a moment's reflection, said, that since fortune favored them, a fair opportunity was now offered to signalize their courage, which was to go and sell oranges in the very playhouse, in the sight of the duchess and the whole court. The proposal being worthy of the sentiments of the one, and of the vivacity of the other, they immediately alighted, paid off their hack, and, running through the midst of an immense number of coaches, with great difficulty they reached the playhouse door. Sidney, more handsome than the beautiful Adonis, and dressed more gay than usual, alighted just then from his coach : Miss Price went boldly up to him, as he was adjusting his curls ; but he was too much occupied with his own dear self to attend to anything else, and so passed on without deigning to give her an answer. Killegrew came next, and the fair Jennings, partly encouraged by the other's pertness, advanced MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 297 was engaged in a squabble with some blackguard bojs who had gathered round his coach in order to steal the oranges: from words they came to blows: the two nymphs saw the commencement of the fra^' as they were return- ing to the coach, after having abandoned the design of going to the fortune-teller's. Their coachman being a man of spirit, it was with great difficulty they could per- suade him to leave their oranges to the mob, that they might get off without any further disturbance : having thus regained their hack, after a thousand frights, and after having received an abundant share of the most low and infamous abuse applied to them during the fracas, they at length reached St. James's, vowing never more to go after fortune-tellers, through so many dangers, terrors and alarms, as they had lately undergone. Brounker, who, from the indifferent opinion he enter- tained of the fair sex, would have staked his life that Mi.ss Jennings did not return from this expedition in the same condition .she went, kept his thoughts, however, a profound secret ; since it would have afforded him the highest satisfaction to have seen the all-fortunate Jermyn marn>- a little street-walker, who pretended to pass for a pattern of chastity, that he might, the day after his mar- riage, congratulate him upon his virtuous spouse ; but heaven was not disposed to afford him that satisfaction, as will appear in the .sequel of these memoirs. Miss Hamilton was in the country, as we before men- tioned, at a relation's : the Chevalier de Grammont bore this short ab.sence of hers with great uneasines.s, since .she would not allow him permission to visit her there, upon any pretence whatever ; but play, which was favorable to him, was no small relief to his extreme impatience. Miss Hamilton, however, at last returned. INIrs. We- tenhall * (for that was the name of her relation) would * Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Henry Bediiigfield, and wife of Thomas Wetenhall, of Hextall Court, near East I'eckham, in the county of 298 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. by all means wait tipon her to lyondon, in appearance out of politeness; for ceremony, carried beyond all bear- ing, is the grand characteristic of country gentry : yet this mark of civility was only a pretence to obtain a peevish husband's consent to his wife's journey to town. Perhaps he would have done himself the honor of con- ducting Miss Hamilton up to London had he not been employed in writing some remarks upon the ecclesias- tical history, a work in which he had long been engaged: the ladies were more civil than to interrupt him in his undertaking, and besides, it would entirely have discon- certed all Mrs. Wetenhall's schemes. This lady was what may be properly called a beauty; entirely English, made up of lilies and roses, of snow and milk, as to color ; and of wax, with respect to the arms, hands, neck, and feet, but all this without either animation or air; her face was uncommonly pretty; but there was no variety, no change of countenance in it : 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 tak- ing orders, he came to England, and took to wife Miss Bedingfield, the lady of whom we are now speaking. His person was not disagreeable, but he had a serious contemplative air, very apt to occasion disgust : as for Kent:. See Collitis's Baronetage, p. 216. The family of Whetenhall, or Whetnall, was possessed of the estate of Hextall Court from the time of Henry VIII. until within a few years past, when one of them, Henry Whetenhall, Esq., alienated it to John Fane, Earl of Westmore- land. Of this family was Edward Whetenhall, a celebrated polemical writer, who, in 1678, was consecrated bishop of Corke and Ross. — See Wood's Athence Oxoniensis,vo\. ii., p. 851, 998. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 299 the rest, she might boast of having one of the greatest theologists in the kingdom for her hnsband : he was all day poring over his books, and went to bed soon, in order to rise early ; so that his wife found him snoring when she came to bed, and when he arose he left her there sound asleep; his conversation at table would ha\e been very brisk, if Mrs. Wetenhall had been as great a proficient in divinity, or as great a lover of controversy, as he was ; but being neither learned in the former, nor desirous of the latter, silence reigned at their table, as absolutely as at a refectory. She had often expressed a great desire to see 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 therefore without reason that she grew weary of the life she was forced to lead at Peck- ham. * The melancholy, retired situation of the place was to her insupportable; and as she had the folly, inci- dent to many other women, of believing sterility to be a kind of reproach, she was very much hurt to see that she might fall under that suspicion ; for she was persuaded, that although heaven had denied her children, she never- theless had all the necessary requisites on her part, if it had been the will of the Lord. This had occasioned her to make some reflections, and then to reason upon those reflections; as for instance, that since her husband chose ratlier to devote himself to his studies, than to the duties of matrimony, to turn over musty old books, rather than attend to the attractions of beauty, and to gratify his own pleasures rather than those of his wife, it might be permitted her to relieve some necessitous lover, in neighborly charity, provided she could do it * " Peckhani is about ten iiiik-s off Tunbridjje Wells. Sir William Twisden has an ancient mansion here, which has been lent; in that family." — Burr's History of Tuiibridge Welh, 8vo., 1766, p. 237. Mr. Hasted says, the estate was j)urchased by Sir William Twisden of Henry Whetenhall, Esq. — Hasted's Kent, vol. ii., p. 274. 300 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. conscientiously, and to direct her inclinations in so just a manner, that the evil spirit should have no concern in it. Mr. Wetenhall, a zealous partisan for the doctrine of the casuists, would not perhaps have approved of these decisions; but he was not consulted. The greatest misfortune was, that neither solitary Peckham, nor its sterile neighborhood, presented any expedients, either for the execution of the aforementioned design, or for the relief of poor Mrs. Wetenhall: she was visibly pining away, when, through fear of dying either with solitude or of want, she had recourse to Miss Ham- ilton's commiseration. Their first acquaintance was formed at Paris, whither Mr. Wetenhall had taken his wife half a year after they were married, on a journey thither to buy books : Miss Hamilton, who from that very time greatly pitied her, consented to pass some time in the country with her, in hopes by that visit, to deliver her, for a short time at least, out of her captivity ; which project succeeded according to her wish. The Chevalier de Grammont, being informed of the day on which they were to arrive, borne on the wings of love and impatience, had engaged George Hamilton to go with him, and meet them some miles out of Lon- don. The equipage he had prepared for the purpose, corresponded with his usual magnificence ; and on such an occasion, we may reasonably suppose he liad not neg- lected his person : however, with all his impatience, he checked the ardor of the coachman, through fear of acci- dents, rightly judging that upon a road prudence is preferable to eagerness. The ladies at length appeared, and Miss Hamilton, being in his eyes, ten or twelve times more handsome than before her departure from London, he would have purchased with his life so kind a reception as she gave her brother. Mrs. Wetenhall had her share of the praises, which at this interview were liberally bestowed upon her beauty. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMOXT. 301 for which her beauty was very thankful to those who did it so much honor; and as Hamilton regarded her with a tender attention, she regarded Hamilton as a man very well qualified for putting in execution the little projects she had concerted with her conscience. As soon as she was in London, her head was almost turned, through an excess of contentment and felicity : everything appeared like enchantment to her in this su- perb cit\- ; more particularly, as in Paris she had never seen anything farther than the Rue Saint Jacques, and a few booksellers' shops. ^liss Hamilton entertained her at her own house, and she was presented, admired, and well received at both courts. The Chevalier de Grammont, whose gallantry and magnificence were inexhaustible, taking occasion, from this fair stranger's arrival, to exhibit his grandeur, nothing was to be seen but balls, concerts, pla) s, excur- sions by land and by water, splendid collations and sumptuous entertainments : Mrs. Wetenhall was trans- ported with pleasures, of which the greatest part were entirely new to her; she was greatly delighted with all, except now and then at a play, when tragedy was acted, which she confessed she thought rather wearisome: she agreed, however, that the show was very interesting, when there were many people killed upon the stage, but thought the players were ver\- fine handsome fellows, who were much better alive than dead. Hamilton, upon the whole, was prett)' well treated by her, if a man in love, who is never satisfied until the completion of his wishes, could confine himself within the bounds of moderation and reason : he used all his endeavors to determine her to put in execution the proj- ects she had formed at Peckhani: ]\Irs. Wetenhall, on the other hand, was much pleased with him. This is the Hamilton who ser\'ed in the Frencli army with distinc- tion; * he was both agreeable and handsome. All imag- I apprehend he is the same George Hamilton already described, 302 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. inable opportimities conspired to favor the establishment of an intimacy, whose commencement had been so brisk, that in all probability it would not languish for a con- clusion; but the more he pressed her to it, the more her resolution began to fail, and regard for some scruples, which she had not well weighed, kept her in suspense : there was reason to believe that a little perseverance would have removed these obstacles; yet this at the pres- ent time was not attempted. Hamilton, not able to con- ceive what could prevent her from completing his happiness, since in his opinion the first and greatest difficulties of an amour were already overcome, with respect to the public, resolved to abandon her to her irresolutions, instead of endeavoring to conquer them by a more vigorous attack. It was not consistent with reason, to desist from an enterprise, where so many pros- pects of success presented themselves, for such inconsid- erable obstacles; but he suffered himself to be intoxicated with chimeras and visions, which unseasonably cooled the vigor of his pursuit, and led him astray in another unprofitable undertaking. I know not whether poor Wetenhall took the blame itpon herself ; but it is certain, she was extremely morti- fied upon it. Soon after being obliged to return to her cabbages and turkeys at Peckham, she had almost gone distracted : that residence appeared a thousand times more dreadful to her, since she had been initiated into the amusements of London ; hnt as the queen was to set out within a month for Tunbridge Wells, she was obliged to yield to necessity, and to return to the philosopher, Wetenhall, with the consolation of having engaged Miss Hamilton to come and live at her house, which was within ten or twelve miles of Tunbridge, as long as the court remained there. who married Miss Jenuiugs, aud not the author of this work, as Lord Orford supposes. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 303 Miss Hamilton promised not to abandon her in her retirement, and fnrther en nton ; saying, "that they were undoubtedly much obliged to him for attending them on their journey, whilst poor Miss Boynton had fainting fits at Tunbridge, at least twice every day, for love of him." Upon this discourse, Talbot thought it right to begin the recital of his suffer- ings and fidelity, when ]\Iiss Temple, with a paper in her hand, entered the room. This was a letter in verse, which Lord Rochester had written .some time before, upon the intrigues of the two courts; wherein, upon the subject of Miss Jennings, he said: "that Talbot had struck terror among the people of God, by his gigantic 318 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. stature ; but that Jermyn, like a little David, had van- quished the great Goliath." Jeuuings, delighted with this allusion, read it over two or three times, thought it more entertaining than Talbot's conversation, at first heartily laughed at it, but soon after, with a tender air, "Poor little David ! " said she, with a deep sigh, and turning her head on one side during this short reverie, she shed a few tears, which assuredly did not flow for the defeat of the giant. This stung Talbot to the quick ; and, seeing himself so ridiculously deceived in his hopes, he went abruptly out of the room, vowing never to think any more of a giddy girl, whose conduct was regulated neither by sense nor reason ; but he did not keep his resolution. The other votaries of love, who were numerous in this court, were more successful, the journey being undertaken solely on that account. There were con- tinual balls and entertainments upon the road ; hunting, and all other diversions, wherever the court halted in its progress. The tender lovers flattered themselves with the thought of being able to crown their happiness as they proceeded in their journey ; and the beauties who governed their destiny did not forbid them to hope. Sidney paid his court with wonderful assiduity : the duchess made the duke take notice of his late perfect devotion to his service : his Royal Highness observed it, and agreed that he ought to be remembered upon the first opportunity, which happened soon after. Montagu, as before mentioned, was master of the horse to the duchess : he was possessed of a great deal of wit, had much penetration, and loved mischief. How could she bear such a man near her person, in the present situation of her heart ? This greatly embarrassed her ; but Montagu's elder brother having, very a-propos, got himself killed where he had no business,* the duke * Montagu's elder brother was killed before Bergen, about August, 1665. See ArlingtoiV s Letters, vol. ii., p. 87. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 319 obtained for Montagu the post of master of the horse to the queen, which the deceased enjoy ed ; and the hand- some Sidney was appointed to succeed him in the same employment to the duchess. All this happened accord- ing to her wish ; and the duke was highly pleased that he had found means to promote these two gentlemen at once, without being at the least expense. Miss Hobart greatly applauded these promotions : .she had frequent and long conversations with Sidney, which, being remarked, some did her the honor to believe it was upon her own account ; and the compliments that were made her iipon the occasion she most willingly received. The duke, who believed it at first, observed to the duchess the unaccountable taste of certain persons, and how the handsomest young fellow in England was infatuated with such a frightful creature. The duchess confessed that taste was very arbitrary ; the truth whereof he himself seemed to be convinced of, since he had fixed upon the beauteous Helen for his mistress. I know not whether this raillery caused him to reflect for what reasons he made his choice ; but it is certain he began to cool in his affections for Miss Cliiirchill ; and perhaps he would entirely have aban- doned this pursuit, had not an accident taken place, which rai.sed in him an entirely new inclination for her. The court having halted for a few days in a fine open country, the duchess was desirous of seeing a greyhound course. This diversion is practised in England upon large downs, where the turf, eaten by the sheep, is par- ticularly green, and wonderfully even. She was in her coach, and all the ladies on horseback, every one of thein being attended by her squire ; it therefore was but reasonable that the mistress should likewise have her squire. He accordingly was at the side of her coach, and seemed to compensate for his deficiencies in con- versation, by the imcommon beauty of his mien and figure. 320 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. The duke attended Miss Churchill, not for the sake of besieging her with soft flattering tales of love, but, on the contrary, to chide her for sitting so ill on horseback. She was one of the most indolent creatures in the world ; and although the maids of honor are generally the worst mounted of the whole court, yet, in order to distinguish her, on account of the favor she enjoyed, they had given her a very pretty, though rather a high-spirited horse ; a distinction she would very willingly have excused them. The embarrassment and fear she was under had added to her natural paleness. In this situation, her coun- tenance had almost completed the duke's disgust, when her horse, desirous of keeping pace with the others, set olf in a gallop, notwithstanding her greatest efforts to prevent it ; and her endeavors to hold him in, firing his mettle, he at length set off at full speed, as if he was running a race against the duke's horse. Miss Churchill lost her seat, screamed out, and fell from her horse. A fall in so quick a pace must have been violent; and yet it proved favorable to her in every respect ; for, without receiving any hurt, she gave the lie to all the unfavorable suppositions that had been formed of her person, in judging from her face. The duke alighted, in order to help her : she was so greatly stunned, that her thoughts were otherwise employed than about decency on the present occasion ; and those who first crowded around her found her rather in a neg- ligent posture : they could hardly believe that limbs of such exquisite beauty could belong to Miss Churchill's face. After this accident, it was remarked that the duke's tenderness and affection for her increased every day; and, towards the end of the winter, it appeared that she had not tyrannized over his passion, nor made him languish with impatience. The two courts returned to London much about the same time, equally satisfied with their respective excur- MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 321 sions ; though the queen was disappointed in the hopes she had entertained of the good effects of the Tunbridge waters. It was about this time that the Chevalier de Gram- mont received a letter from the Marchioness de Saint- Chauniont, his sister, acquainting him that he might return when he thought proper, the king having given him leave. He would have received this news with joy at any other time, whatever had been the charms of the English court ; but, in the present situation of his heart, he could not resolve to quit it. He had returned from Tunbridge a thousand times deeper in love than ever ; for, during this agreeable ex- cursion, he had every day seen Miss Hamilton, either in the marshes of melancholy Peckham or in the delicious walks of cheerful Summer-hill, or in the daily diversions and entertainments of the queen's court ; and whether he saw her on horseback, heard her conversation, or obser\'ed her in the dance, still he was persuaded that Heaven had never formed an object in every respect more worthy of the love, and more deserving of the affection, of a man of sense and delicacy. How then was it possible for him to bear the thoughts of leaving her? This appeared to him absolutely impracticable ; 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 the first place, congratulated him upon his recall : she returned him many thanks for the sacrifice he intended to make her ; but as this testimony of affection greatly exceeded the bounds of mere gal- lantry, however sensibly she might feel this mark of his tenderness, she was, however, determined not to abuse it. In vain did he protest that he would rather meet death than part from her irresistible charms ; and her 21 322 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 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 was now so urgent ; and having generously given him assurances that, so far as depended upon herself, he would find, upon his return, no variation in her sentiments during his absence, he took leave of his friends, thinking of nothing but his return, at the very time he was making preparations for his departure. COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY. CHAPTER XI. The nearer the Chevalier de Graminont approached the court of France, the more did he regret his absence from that of England ; not hut that he expected a gra- cious reception at the feet of his master, whose anger no one provoked with impunity ; but who likewise knew how to pardon, in such a manner as to make the favor he conferred in every respect to be felt. A thousand different thoughts occupied his mind upon the journey : sometimes he reflected upon the joy and satisfaction his friends and relations would experience upon his return ; sometimes upon the congratulations and embraces of those who, being neither the one nor , the other, would, nevertheless, overwhelm him with im- pertinent compliments : all these ideas passed quickly through his head ; for a man deeply in love makes it a scruple of conscience not to suffer any other thoughts to dwell upon his mind than those of the object beloved. It was then the tender, endearing rememl)rance of what he had left in Loudon that diverted his thoughts from Paris; and it was the torments of absence that prevented his feeling those of the bad roads and the bad horses. His heart protested to Miss Hamilton, between l\Ion- treuil and Abbeville, that he only tore himself from her (323) 324 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. with such haste to return the sooner ; after which, by a short reflection, comparing the regret he had formerly felt upon the same road, in quitting France for England, with that which he now experienced in quitting England for France, he found the last much more insupportable than the former. It is thus that a man in love entertains himself upon the road; or rather, it is thus that a trifling writer abuses the patience of his reader, either to display his own sen- timents, or to lengthen out a tedious story; but God for- bid that this character should apply to ourselves, since we profess to insert nothing in these memoirs, but what we have heard from the mouth of him whose actions and sayings we transmit to posterity. Who, except Squire Feraulas, has ever been able to keep a register of all the thoughts, sighs, and exclama- tions of his illustrious master? For my own part, I should never have thought that the attention of the Coi;nt 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 ai:y between Calais and Paris ; and the Chevalier de Grammont, alighting, told Termes he would drink a glass of wine during the time they were changing horses. It was about noon: and, since the preceding night, when they had landed at Calais, until this instant, they had not eat a single mouthful. Termes, praising the Lord, that natural feelings had for once prevailed over the inhumanity of his usual impatience, confirmed him as much as possible in such reasonable sentiments. Upon their entering the kitchen, where the Chevalier generally paid his first visit, they were surprised to see half a dozen spits loaded with game at the fire, and every other preparation for a magnificent entertainment. The MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 325 heart of Teriiies leaped for joy: he gave private orders to the hostler to pull the shoes off some of the horses, that he might not be forced away from this place before he had satisfied his craving appetite. Soon after a niimber of violins and hautboys, attended by all the mob of the town, entered the court. The landlord, being asked the reason of these great prepara- tions, acquainted the Chevalier de Grammont that they were for the wedding of one of the most wealthy gentle- men in the neighborhood with one of the handsomest girls in the whole province ; that the entertainment was to be at his house; and that, if his lordship chose to stop, in a very short time he would see the new-married couple arrive from the chiirch, since the music was al- ready come. He was right in his conjectures; for these words were scarce out of his mouth, when three uncom- monly large coaches, loaded with lackeys, as tall as Swiss, with most gaudy liveries, all covered with lace, appeared in the court, and disembarked the whole wed- ding company. Never was country magnificence more naturally displayed : rusty tinsel, tarnished lace, striped silks, little eyes, and full swelling breasts, appeared on every side. If the first sight of the procession surprised the Chev- alier de Grammont, faithful Termes was no less aston- ished at the second. The little that was to be seen of the bride's face appeared not without beauty; but no judgment could be formed of the remainder: four dozen of patches, at least, and ten ringlets of hair, on each side, most completely concealed her from all human eyes; but it was the bridegroom who most particularly attracted the Chevalier de Grammont' s attention. He was as ridiculously dressed as the rest of the com- pany, except a coat of the greatest magnificence, and of the most exquisite taste. The Chevalier de Grammont, walking up to him to examine his dress, began to com- mend the embroidery of his coat. The bridegroom 326 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. thought himself much honored by this examination, and told him he bought it for one hundred and fifty louis, at the time he was paying his addresses to his wife. " Then you did not get it made here? " said the Cheva- lier de Grammont. "No," replied the other; "I bought it of a London merchant, who had ordered it for an English lord." The Chevalier de Grammont, who now began to perceive in what manner the adventure would end, asked him if he should recollect the mer- chant if he saw him again ? " Recollect him ! " replied the other, " I surely ought ; for I was obliged to sit up drinking with him all night at Calais, as I was endeav- oring to beat down the price." Termes had vanished out of sight as soon as ever this coat appeared, though he little supposed that the cursed bridegroom would have any conversation concerning it with his master. The Chevalier's thoughts were some time wavering between his inclination to laugh, and a desire of hanging Master Termes; but the long habit of suffering himself to be robbed by his domestics, together with the vigil- ance of the criminal, whom his master could not reproach with having slept in his service, inclined him to clem- ency ; and yielding to the importunities of the country gentleman, in order to confound his faithful servant, he sat down to table, to make the thirty-seventh of the com- pany. A short time after, he desired one of the waiters to call for a gentleman whose name was Termes. He immedi- ately appeared ; and as soon as the master of the feast saw him, he rose from table, and offering him his hand ; "Welcome, my friend," said he; "you see that I have taken good care of the coat which you sold me with so much reluctance, and that I have kept it for a good pur- pose. ' ' Termes, having put on a face of brass, pretended not to know him, and pushed him back with some degree of rudeness. "No, no ! " said the other; "since I was MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 327 obliged to sit up with you the whole night, in order to strike the bargain, you shall pledge me in the bride's health." The Chevalier de Grammont, who saw that Termes was disconcerted, notwithstanding his impu- dence, said to him with a smile: " Come, come, my good London merchant, sit down, as you are so civilly invited: we are not so crowded at table but that there will be room enough for such an honest gentleman as yourself." At these words five-and-thirty of the guests were in motion to receive this new visitor: the bride alone, out of an idea of decorum, remained seated; and the audacious Termes, having swallowed the first shame of this adventure, be- gan to lay about him at such a rate, as if it had been his intention to swallow all the wine provided for the wed- ding, if his master had not risen from the table as they were taking off four-and-twenty soups, to serve up as many other dishes in their stead. The company were not so imreasonable as to desire a man who was in such haste to remain to the end of a wedding dinner; but they all got up when he arose from table, and all that he could obtain from the bridegroom was that the company .should not attend him to the gate of the inn. As for Termes, he wished they had not quitted him till the end of their journey, so much did he dread being left alone with his master. They had advanced some distance from Abbeville, and were proceeding on in the most profound silence, when Termes, who expected an end to it in a short time, was only solicitous in what manner it might happen, whether his master would attack him with a torrent of invectives, and certain epithets which were most justly his due, or whether, in an insulting, ironical manner, he might make use of .such commendations as were most likely to confound him ; but finding, instead of either, that he remained in sullen silence, he thought it prudent rather to prevent the speech the Chevalier was meditating than to suffer him to think longer about it ; and accordingly. 328 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. arming himself with all his effrontery: "Yon seem to be ver}- angry, Sir," said he, "and I snppose yon think you have reason for being so ; but the devil take me, if you are not mistaken in reality." "How! traitor! in reality?" said the Chevalier de Grammont. "It is then because I have not had thee well thrashed, as thou hast for a long time merited." "Look ye, Sir," replied Termes, "you always run into a passion, instead of listening to reason ! Yes, Sir, I maintain that what I did was for your benefit." "And was not the quicksand likewise for my service?" said the Chevalier de Grammont. " Have patience, if you please, ' ' pursued the other : "I know not how that simpleton of a bridegroom happened to be at the custom- house when my portmanteau was examined at Calais : but these silly cuckolds thrust in their noses everywhere. As soon as ever he saw your coat, he fell in love with it, I immediately perceived he was a fool ; for he fell down upon his knees, beseeching me to sell it him. Besides being greatly rumpled in the portmanteau, it was all stained in front by the sweat of the horses. I wonder how the devil he has managed to get it cleaned ; but, faith, I am the greatest scoundrel in the world, if you would ever have put it on. In a word, it cost }'ou one hundred and forty louis d'ors, and seeing he offered me one hundred and fifty for it ; ' My master,' said I, ' has no occasion for this tinselled bauble to distinguish him at the ball ; and, although he was pretty full of cash when I left him, how know I in what situation he may be upon my return? there is no certainty at play.' To be brief. Sir, I got ten louis d'ors for it more than it cost you : this yon see is all clear profit : I will be accountable to you for it, and you know that I am sufficiently sub- stantial to make good such a sum. Confess now, do you think }-oi: would have appeared to greater advantage at the ball, if you had been dressed out in that damned coat, which would have made you look just like the MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 329 village bridegroom to whom we sold it? and yet liow you stormed at London when you thought it lost ; what fine stories you told the king about the quicksand ; and how churlish you looked, when you first began to suppose that this country looby wore it at his wed- ding ! " What could the Chevalier reply to such uncommon impudence? If he indulged his resentment, he must either have most severely bastinadoed him, or he must have discarded him, as the easiest escape the rogue could expect ; but he had occasion for him during the re- mainder of his journey ; and as soon as he was at Paris, he had occasion for him for his return. The IVIarechal de Grammont had no sooner notice of his arrival than he went to him at the hotel ; and, the first embraces being over on both sides, "Chevalier," said the Marechal, "how many days have you been in coming from London hither? for God knows at what a rate you travel on such occasions." The Chevalier told him he had been three da} S upon the road ; and, to excuse himself for making no more haste, he related to him his Abbeville adventure. "It is a very entertaining one," said his brother; " but what is yet more enter- taining is, that it will be your fault if you do not find your coat still at table ; for the country gentry are not accustomed to rise very soon from a wedding dinner." And then, in a very serious tone, told him, "he knew not who had advised him to this iinexpected return, which might probably ruin all his affairs ; but he had orders from the king to bid him go back again without appearing at coi:rt. He told him afterwards that he was very much astonished at his impatience, as, till this time, he had conducted himself uncommonly well, and was sufhciently acqiiainted with the king's temper to know that the onh- way to merit his pardon was to wait until it freely came from his clemency." The Chevalier, in justification of his conduct, pro- 330 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. duced Madame de Saint Chaumont's letter, and told the Marechal that he would very willingly have spared her the trouble of writing him such kind of news, to occa- sion him so useless a journey. " Still more indiscre- tion," replied his brother; "for, pray how long has our sister been either secretary of state or minister, that she should be employed by the king to make known His Majesty's order? Do you wish to know the real state of the case ? Some time ago the king told Madame* how you had refused the pension the King of England ojBered you : he appeared pleased with the manner in which Comminges had related to him the circumstances attending it, and said he was pleased with you for it : Madame interpreted this as an order for your recall ; and Madame de Saint Chaumont being very far from pos- sessing that wonderful discretion she imagines herself mistress of, she hastened to despatch to you this con- sequential order in her own hand. To conclude : Madame said yesterday, when the king was at dinner, that you would very soon be here ; and the king, as soon * Henrietta, youngest daughter of Charles the First, bom at Exeter i6th June, 1644, from whence she was removed to London in 1646, and, with her governess. Lady Dalkeith, soon afterwards conve3-ed 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 were given her ; but when she was opened, in the presence of the English ambassador, the Earl of Ailesbury, an English physician and surgeon, there appeared no grounds of suspicion of any foul play. Yet Bucks talked openly that she was poisoned ; and was so violent as to propose to foreign ministers to make war on 'Fra.uce.'"—Macp/ierson's Original Papers, vol. i. At the end of Lord Arlington' s Letters are five very remarkable ones from a person of qualit}', who is said to have been actually on the spot, giving a par- ticular relation of her death. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 331 as dinner was over, coniniandecl me to send ) ou back as soon as you arrived. Here you are ; set off again im- mediately. " This order might have appeared severe to the Cheva- lier de Grammout at any other time ; but, in the present state of his heart, he soon resolved upon obeying. Noth- ing gave him uneasiness but the officious advice which had obliged him to leave the English court ; and being entirely unconcerned that he was not allowed to see the French court before his departure, he only desired the ]\Iarechal to obtain leave for him to stay a few days to collect in some play debts which were owing him. This request was granted, on condition that he should not remain in Paris. He chose Vaugirard for his retreat : it was there that he had several adventures which he so often related in so humorous and diverting a manner, that it would be tedi- ous to repeat them; there it was that he administered the sacrament in so solemn a manner, that, as there did not remain a sufficient number of Swiss at Versailles to guard the chapel, Vardes was obliged to acquaint the king that they were all gone to the Chevalier de Grammont, who was administering the sacrament at Vaugirard : there likewise happened that wonderful adventure which threw the first slur upon the reputation of the great Saucourt, when, having a 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 fre- quent alarms cooled the courage of the celebrated Sau- court, and rendered useless the assignation that was procured for him with one of the prettiest girls in the neighborhood. It was, likewise, during his stay at Vau- girard, that he paid a visit to Mademoiselle de I'Hopital at Iss3% to inquire into the truth of a report of an amour between her and a man of the long robe; and it was there that, on his arriving unexpectedly, the President de IMaisons was forced to take refuge in a closet, with so 332 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. much precipitation, that half of his robe remained on the outside when he shut the door ; while the Chevalier de Gramniont, who observed it, made his visit exces- sively long, in order to keep the two lovers upon the rack. His business being settled he set out for England on the wings of love. Termes redoubled his vigilance upon the road. The post horses were ready in an instant at every stage: the winds and tides favored his impatience ; and he reached London with the highest satisfaction. The court was both surprised and charmed at his sudden return. No person condoled with him upon his late dis- appointment, which had occasioned him to come back, as he testified no manner of uneasiness concerning it himself; nor was Miss Hamilton in the least displeased at his readiness in obeying the orders of the king, his master. Nothing new had happened in the English court during his short absence; but it assumed a different aspect soon after his return : I mean with respect to love and pleasure, which were the most serious con- cerns of the court during the greatest parf of this gay reign. The Duke of Monmouth,* natural son to Charles the Second, now made his first appearance in his father's * James, Duke of Monmouth, was the son of Charles II., by one Lucy Walters. He was born at Rotterdam, April 9, 1649, ^""i bore the name of James Crofts until the restoration. His education was chiefly at Paris, under the eye of the queen-mother, and the government of Thomas Ross, Esq., who was afterwards secretary to Mr. Coventry during his embassy in Sweden. At the restoration he was brought to England, and received with joy by his father, who heaped honors and riches upon hitn, which were not sufficient to satisfy his ambitious views. To exclude his uncle, the Duke of York, from the throne, he was continually intriguing with the opposers of government, and was frequently in disgrace with his sovereign. On the accession of James II. he made an ineffectual attempt to raise a rebellion, was taken pris- oner, and beheaded on Tower-hill, 15th July, 1685. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, 333 court. His entrance upon the staple of the world was so brilliant, his ambition had occasioned so many consid- erable events, and the particulars of his tragical end are so recent, that it were needless to produce any other traits to give a sketch of his character. By the whole tenor of his life, he appeared to be rash in his under- takings, irresolute in the execution, and dejected in his misfortunes, in which, at least, an imdaunted resolution ought to equal the greatness of the attempt. His figure and the exterior graces of his person were such, that nature perhaps never formed anything more complete. His face was extremely handsome ; and yet it was a manly face, neither inanimate nor effeminate ; each feature having its beauty and peculiar delicacy: he had a wonderful genius for every sort of exercise, an en- gaging aspect, and an air of grandeur : in a word, he possessed every personal advantage ; but then he was greatly deficient in mental accomplishments. He had no sentiments but such as others inspired him with; and those who first insinuated themselves into his friendship took care to inspire him with none but such as were per- nicious. The astonishing beauty of his outward form caused imiversal admiration : those who before were looked upon as handsome were now entirely forgotten at court : and all the gay and beautiful of the fair sex were at his devotion. He was particularly beloved by the king, but the universal terror of husbands and lovers. This, however, did not long continue; for nature not having endowed him with qualifications to secure the possession of the heart, the fair sex .soon perceived the defect. The Duchess of Cleveland was out of humor v/ith the king, because the children she had by His Majesty were like .so many little puppets, compared to this new Adoni.s. She was the more particularly hurt, as she might have boasted of being the queen of love, in comparison with the duke's mother. The king, however, laughed at her 334 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. reproaches, as, for some time, she had certainly no right to make any; and as this piece of jealousy appeared to be more ill-fonnded than any she had formerly affected, no person approved of her ridiculous resentment. Not suc- ceeding in this, she formed another scheme to give the king uneasiness. Instead of opposing his extreme ten- derness for his son, she pretended to adopt him in her affections, by a thousand commendations and caresses, which she was daily and continually increasing. As these endearments were public, she imagined they could not be suspected ; but she was too well known for her real design to be mistaken. The king was no longer jealous of her; but, as the Duke of Monmouth was of an age not to be insensible to the attractions of a woman possessing so many charms, he thought it proper to with- draw him from this pretended mother-in-law, to preserve his innocence, or at least his fame, uncontaminated : it was for this reason, therefore, that the king married him so young. An heiress of five thousand pounds a year in Scotland,* * This was Lady Anue Scott, daughter and sole heiress of Francis, Earl of Biiccleugh, only son and heir of Walter, Lord Scott, created Earl of Buccleugh in 1619. On their marriage the duke took the sur- name of Scott, and he and his lady were created Duke and Duchess of Buccleugh, Earl and Countess of Dalkeith, Barou and Baroness of Whitchester and Ashdale in Scotland, by letters patent, dated April 20, 1673. Also, two days after, he was installed at Windsor, the king and queen, the Duke of York, and most of the court being present. The next day, being St. George's day, His Majesty solemnized it with a royal feast, and entertained the knights' companions in St. George'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, 16S8, took to her sec- ond husband, Charles, Lord Cornwallis. She died Feb. 6, 1731-32, in the 8ist year of her age, and was buried at Dalkeith in Scotland. Our author is not more correct about figures than he avows himself to be in the arrangement of facts and dates ; the duchess's fortune was much greater than he has stated it to have been. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 335 offered very a-propos: her person was full of charms, and her mind possessed all those perfections in which the handsome Monmouth was deficient. New festivals and entertainments celebrated this mar- riage. The most effectual method to pay court to the king was to outshine the rest in brilliancy and grandeur; and whilst these rejoicings brought forward all manner of gallantry and magnificence, they either revived old or established new amours. The fair Stewart, then in the meridian of her glory, attracted all eyes, and commanded universal respect and admiration. The Duchess of Cleveland endeavored to eclipse her at this 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 commence- m^*ntof a third or fourth pregnancy, which the king was still pleased to place to his own account ; and, as for the rest, her person could in no respect stand in competition with the grace and beauty of Miss Stewart. It was during this last effort of her charms, that she would have been queen of England had the king been as free to give his hand as he was to surrender his heart: for it was at this time that the Duke of Richmond took it into his head either to marry her, or to die in the attempt, A few months after the celebration of the Duke of Monmouth's nuptials, Killegrew,* having nothing better * Thomas Killegrew was one of the sons of Sir Robert Killegrew, chamberlain to the queen, and was born at Hanworlh, in the county of Middlesex, in the month of February, 1611. He seems to have been early intended for the court, and to qualify him for rising there, every circumstance of his education appears to have been adapted. He was appointed page of honor to King Charles I., and faithfully ad- hered to his cause until the death of his master ; after which he at- tended his son in his exile ; to whom he was highly- acceptable, on account of liis social and convivial qualifications. He married Mrs. Cecilia Crofts, one of the maids of honor to Queen Henrietta. In 1651 he was sent to Venice, as resident at that state. He died at White- 336 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, to do, fell in love with Lady Slirewsbiir}' ; and, as Lady Slirewsburj', by a very extraordinary chance, had no en- gagement at that time, their amour was soon established. No one thought of interrupting an intimacy which did not concern any one ; but Killegrew thought proper to disturb it himself. Not that his happiness fell short of his expectation, nor did possession put him out of love with a situation so enviable ; but he was amazed that he was not envied, and offended that his good fortune raised him no rivals. He possessed a great deal of wit, and still more elo- quence, which most particularly displayed itself when he was a little elevated with the juice of the grape : he then indulged himself in giving luxurious descriptions of Lady Shrewsbury's most secret charms and beauties, which above half the court were as well acquainted with as himself. The Duke of Buckingham was one of those who could only judge from outward appearances : and appearances, in his opinion, did not seem to promise anything so ex- quisite as the extravagant praises of Killegrew would infer. As this indiscreet lover was a frequent guest at the Duke of Buckingham's table, he was continually employing his rhetoric on this subject, and he had full opportunity for his harangues ; for they generally sat down to dinner at four o'clock, and only rose just iu time for the play in the evening. The Duke of Buckingham, whose ears were contin- ually deafened with descriptions of Lady Shrewsbury's merits, resolved at last to examine into the truth of the matter himself. As soon as he had made the experi- ment, he was satisfied; and, though he fancied that fame did not exceed the truth, yet this intrigue began in such a manner that it was generally believed its duration hall, 19th March, 16S2, bewailed, as it is said, by his friends, aud truly wept for by the poor. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 337 would be short, considering^ the fickleness of both par- ties, and the vivacity with which they had engaged in it : nevertheless, no amour in England ever continued so long. The imprudent Killcgrew, who could not be satisfied without 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 redress for the grievances at first com- plained of, that she pretended even not to know him. His spirit could not brook such treatment ; and, without ever considering that he was the author of his own dis- grace, he let loose all his abusive eloquence against her ladyship: he attacked her with the most bitter invectives from head to foot : he drew a frightful picture of her conduct ; and turned all her personal charm.s, 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 eveniu"; from the Duke of York's apartments at St. James's, three passes with a sword were made at him through his chair, one of which went entirely through his arm. Upon this, he was sen- sible of the danger to which his intemperate tongue had exposed him, over and above the loss of his mistress. The assassins made their escape across the Park, not doubting but they had dispatched him. Killegrew thought that all complaints would be use- less ; for what redress from justice could he expect for an attempt of which his wounds were his only evidence? And, besides, he was convinced that if he began a prose- cution founded upon appearances and conjectures, the parties concerned would take the shortest and most eflfec- tual means to put a stop to all inquiries upon the subject, and that their second attempt would not prove ineflTec- tual. Being desirous, therefore, of deserving mercy 22 338 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. from those who had endeavored to assassinate him, he no longer continued his satires, and said not a word of the adventure. The Duke of Buckingliam and L,ady Shrewsbury remained for a long period both happy and contented. * Never before had her constancy been of so long a duration; nor had he ever been so submissive and respectful a lover. This continued until Lord Shrewsbury, who never before had shown the least uneasiness at his lady's mis- conduct, thought proper to resent this : it was public enough, indeed, but less dishonorable to her than any of her former intrigues. Poor Lord Shrewsbury, too polite a man to make any reproaches to his wife, was resolved to have redress for his injured honor: he accord- ingly challenged the Duke of Buckingham ; and the Duke of Buckingham, as a reparation for his honor, hav- ing killed him upon the spot, remained a peaceable pos- sessor of this famous Helen. The public was at first shocked at the transaction; but the public grows familiar with everything by habit, and by degrees both decency and even virtue itself are rendered tame and overcome. The queen was at the head of those who exclaimed against so public and scandalous a crime, and against the impunity of such a wicked act. As the Duchess of Buckingham t was a short, fat body, like her majesty, * In a letter from Andrew Marvel, dated August 9, 1671, he says: "Buckingham runs out all with the Lady Shrewsbury, whom he be- lieves he had a son (by) to whom the king stood godfather : it died young Earl of Coventry, and was buried in the sepulchre of his fathers." — MarveVs Works, vol. i., p. 406. The duel in which the Earl of Shrewsbury was killed by the Duke of Buckingham happened i6th March, 1667. t Mary, Duchess of Buckingham, was the only daughter of Thomas, 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 remed}-. She survived him many years, and died near St. James's, at Westminster, and was buried MEMOIRS OF COUNT GKAMMONT. 339 who never had had any children, and whom her husband had abandoned for another ; this sort of parallel in their situations interested the queen in her favor ; but it was all in vain : no person paid any attention to them ; the licentiousness of the age went on uncontrolled, though the queen endeavored to raise up the serious part of the nation, the politicians and devotees, as enemies against it. DUCHKSS Ol-' ULCKINGHAM. The fate of this princess was in many cases truly mel- ancholy : the king, indeed, paid her every outward attention ; but that was all : she easily perceived that the respect he entertained for her daily diminished, in proportion as the credit of her rivals increased : she saw in the vault of tlie family of Villiers, in Henry VII. 's chapel, anno 1705, actat 66." — Brian Fairfax's Life 0/ the Duke of Bitckitigham, 4to., 175S, p. 39. 340 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. that the king, her husband, was now totally indifferent abont legitimate children, since his all-charming mis- tresses bore him others. As all the happiness of her life depended upon that blessing, and as she flattered her- self that the king would prove kinder to her if Heaven would vouchsafe to grant her desires, she had recourse to all the celebrated secrets against sterility : pious vows, nine days' prayers, and offerings having been tried in all manners, but all to no purpose, she was at last obliged to return to natural means. What would she have given on this occasion for the ring which Archbishop Turpin wore on his finger, and which made Charlemagne run after him, in the same manner as it had made him nni after one of his concu- bines, from whose finger Turpin had taken it after her death ! But it is now many years since the only talis- mans for creating love are the charms of the person beloved, and foreign enchantments have been looked upon as ineffectual. The queen's physicians, men of great prudence, sagacity, and wisdom, as they always are, having duly weighed and considered that the cold waters of Tunbridge had not succeeded in the preceding year, concluded that it would be advisable for her to try the warm baths at Bristol.* This journey was therefore fixed for the next season ; and in the confidence of its * I believe that Bath, not Bristol, is the place intenrled by the author. Queen Katheriiie's visit to the former place was earlier than to Tun- bridge, being about the latter end of September, 1663. See IVood's Description of Bath, vol. i., p. 217. I do not find she ever was at Bristol, but at the time mentioned in the following extract : " 1663. Sir John Knight, mayor. John Broadway, Richard Stremer, sheriffs. "The 5th of September, the king and queen, with James, Duke of York, and his Duchess, and Prince Rupert, etc., came to Bristol, and were splendidly received and entertained by the ma3'or, at a dinner provided on the occasion. They returned to Bath at four o'clock. 150 pieces of ordnance were discharged in the Marsh, at three distinct times." — Barrett's History, etc., of Bristol, p. 692. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT. 341 proving effectual, this exxiirsion would have afforded her much pleasure, if the most dangerous of her rivals had not been one of the first that was appointed to attend the court. The Duchess of Cleveland being then near her time, there was no uneasiness on her account ; the com- mon rules of decency required a little attention. The public, it is true, was not either more or less acquainted with the circumstances of her situation ; by the care which she now took to conceal it ; but her appearing at court in her present condition would have been too great an insult to the queen. Miss Stewart, more handsome than ever, was appointed for this excursion, and began to make magnificent preparations. The poor queen durst .say nothing against it; but all hopes of success immediately forsook her. What could the baths, or the feeble virtue of the waters perform against charms that entirely counteracted their effects, either through the grief and uneasiness they occasioned her, or by their still more powerful consequences ? The Chevalier de Grammont, to whom all pleasures were insipid without the presence of jNIiss Hamilton, was yet unable to excuse himself from attending the court: the king delighted too much in his sprightly con- versation to leave him behind; and however pleasing his company might have been in the solitude occasioned by the absence of the court. Miss Hamilton did not think it right to accept his offer of staying in town, because she was obliged to remain there : .she, however, granted him the permission of writing her an accoiint of any news that might occur upon the journey. He failed not to make use of this permission, in such a manner as one may imagine; and his own concerns took up so much space in his letters, that there was very little room left for other subjects during his stay at the baths. As absence from the object of his affections rendered this place insupportable, he engaged in everything that might dissipate his impatience, until the happy moment of return arrived. 342 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. He had a great esteem for the elder of the Hamiltoiis ; no less esteem, and far more friendship for his brother, whom he made the confidant of his passion and attach- ment for his sister. The Chevalier was also acquainted with his first engagements with his cousin Wetenhall ; but being ignorant of the coldness that had interrupted a commerce so brisk in its commencement, he was sur- prised at the eagerness he showed upon all occasions to please Miss Stewart: his assiduity appeared to the Chev- alier de Grammont to exceed those civilities and atten- tions that are usually paid for the purpose of making court to the favorites of princes. He obser\-ed 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 con- firmed him in his suspicions, he resolved to use his endeavors to prevent the consequences of an engage- ment pernicious in every respect : but he waited for a proper opportunity of speaking to him upon the sub- ject. In the meantime, the court enjoyed every kind of diversion, in a place where amusement is sought with avidity. The game of bowls, which in France is the pastime of mechanics and servants only, is quite the contrar}- in England, where it is the exercise of gentle- men, and requires both art and address: it is only in iise during the fair and dry part of the season, and the places where it is practised are channing, delicious walks, called bowling-greens, which are little square grass-plots, where the turf is almost as smooth and level as the cloth of a billiard table. As soon as the heat of the day is over, all the company assemble there : they play deep : and spectators are at liberty to make what bets they please. The Chevalier de Grammont, long before initiated in the English games and diversions, had been engaged in a horse-race, in which he was indeed unsuccessful ; but MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 343 he had the satisfaction of being convinced by experience, that an English horse can go twenty miles npon 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 tisually a sort of inn, or house of entertainment, with a bower or arbor, in which are sold all sorts of English liquors, such as cider, mead, bottled beer, and Spanish wines. Here the rooks meet every evening to drink, smoke, and to try their skill upon each other, or, in other words, to endeavor to trick one another out of the winnings of the day. These rooks are, properly speaking, what we call capons or piqueurs in France; men who always carry money about them, to enable them to lend to losing gamesters, for which they receive a gratification, which is nothing for such as play deep, as it is only two per cent. , and the money to be repaid the next day. These gentlemen are so nice in their calculations, and so particularly skilful in all manner of games, that no person would dare to enter the lists with them, were they even assured that no unfairness would be practised. Besides, they make a vow to win four or five guineas a day, and to be satisfied with that gain; a vow which they seldom or never break. It was in the midst of a company of these rooks, that Hamilton found the Chevalier de Grammont, when he called in one evening to get a glass of cider. They were playing at hazard; and as he who holds the dice is supposed to have the advantage, the rooks did the Chev- alier de Grammont that honor out of compliment: he had the dice in his hand when Hamilton came into the room. The rooks, secure of their odds, were betting against him at a high rate, and he took all. Hamilton could hardly believe his eyes, to see a man of his experience and knowledge engaged in so unequal a contest; but it was to no purpose that he informed him 344 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. of his danger, both aloud in French, and in private by signs; he still disregarded his warnings, and the dice, that bore Csesar and his fortunes, performed a miracle in his favor. The rooks were defeated for the first time, but not without bestowing upon him all the encomiums and praises of being a very fair and honorable player, which they never fail to lavish iipon those whom they wish to engage a second time; but all their commenda- tions were lost, and their hopes deceived: the Chevalier was satisfied with the first experiment. Hamilton, when the king was at supper, related to him how he found the Chevalier de Grammont rashly en- gaged with the rooks, and in what manner he had been providentially preserved. " Indeed, Sir," said the Chev- alier de Grammont, "the rooks were discomfited for once;" and thereupon related the adventure to His Majesty in his usual way, attracting the attention of all the company, to a circumstance, trifling in itself, but rendered interesting by his humor. After supper Miss Stewart, in whose apartment there was play, called Hamilton to her to tell the story. The Chevalier de Grammont, perceiving that she attended to him with pleasure, was fully confirmed in the truth of his first conjectures; and, having carried Hamilton home with him to supper, they began to discourse freely to- gether as usual: "George," said the Chevalier de Gram- mont, "are you in any want of money? I know you love pla}': perhaps it may not be so favorable to you as it is to me. We are at a great distance from London. Here are two hundred guineas: take them, I beseech you; they will do to play with at Miss Stewart's." Hamilton, who little expected this conclusion, was rather disconcerted. "How? at Miss Stewart's!" "Yes, in her apartments. Friend George," continued the Chevalier de Grammont, "I have not yet lost my eyes: you are in love with her, and, if I am not mistaken, she is n?)t offended at it; but tell me how you could MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 345 resolve to banish poor Weteiihall from your heart, and suffer }-ourself to be infatuated with a girl, who perhaps after all is not worth the other, and who, besides, what- ever favorable dispositions she may have for you, will undoubtedly in the end prove )'our ruin. Faith, your brother and you are two pretty fellows in your choice. What! can you find no other beauties in all the court to fall in love with except the king's two mistresses! As for the elder brother, I can pardon him: he only took Lady Castlemaine after his master had done with her, and after Lady Chesterfield had discarded him; but, as for you, what the devil do } ou intend to do with a creat- ure on whom the king seems every day to dote with increasing fondness? Is it because that drunken sot Richmond has again come forward, and now declares himself one of her professed admirers? You will soon see what he will make by it: I have not forgotten what the king said to me upon the subject. "Believe me, my dear friend, there is no playing tricks with our masters; I mean, there is no ogling their mistresses. I myself wanted to play the agreeable in France with a little coquette whom the king did not care about, and you know how dearly I paid for it. I confess she gives you fair plaj-, but do not trust to her. All the sex feel an unspeakable satisfaction at having men in their train, whom they care not for, and to use them as their slaves of state, merely to swell their equipage. Would it not be a great deal better to pass a week or ten days incognito at Peckham, with the philosopher Weten- hall's wife, than to have it inserted in the Dutch Gazette — We hear from Bristol that such a one is bani.shed the court on account of Miss Stewart, and that he is going to make a campaign in Guinea* on board the fleet that *This expedition was intended to have taken place in 1664. A full account of it, and how it came to be laid aside, maj' be seen in the Continuation of Clarendon' s Life, p. 225. 346 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAM MONT, is fitting out for the expedition, under the command of Prince Rupert?" Hamilton, who was the more convinced of the truth of this discourse, the more he considered it, after musing- some time, appeared to wake from a dream, and address- ing himself with an air of gratitude to the Chevalier de Grammont: "Of all the men in the world, my dear friend," said he, "you have the most agreeable wit, and at the same time the clearest judgment with respect to your friends: what you have told me has opened my eyes. I began to suffer myself to be seduced by the most ridiculous illusion imaginable, and to be hurried away rather by frivolous appearances than any real inclination: to you I owe the obligation of having preserved me from destruction at the very brink of a precipice. This is not the only kindness you have done me — your favors have been innumerable; and, as a proof of my gratitude for this last, I will follow your advice, and go into retire- ment at my cousin Wetenhall's, to eradicate from my recollection every trace of those chimeras which lately possessed my brain; but so far from going thither incog- nito, I will take you along with me, as soon as the court returns to London. My sister shall likewise be of the party, for it is prudent to use all precautions with a man who, with a great deal of merit, on such occasions is not over-scrupulous, if we may credit your philosopher." "Do not pay any. attention to that pedant," replied the Chevalier de Grammont; "but tell me what put it into your head to form a design upon that inanimate statue. Miss Stewart?" "How the devil should I know?" said Hamilton; "you are acquainted with all her childish amusements. The old Lord Carlingford* was at her apartment one evening, showing her how to hold a * Sir Theobald Taaffe, the secoiul Viscount Taaffe, created Earl of Carlingford, in the county of Louth, by privy seal, 17th June, 1661, and by patent, 26th June, 1662. — He died 31st December, 1677. MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 347 lighted wax candle in her mouth, and the grand secret consisted in keeping the burning end there a long time without its being extinguished. I have, thank God, a pretty large mouth, and, in order to out-do her teacher, I took two candles into my mouth at the same time, and walked three times round the room without their % The in- trigues which led to the murder of this unhappy woman, present such a scene of accumulated horrors and in- iquity, that for the honor of hi:man nature, one could wish that the curtain had never been raised which hid them from our knowledge. On the occasion of her death, the Duke of Bucking- ham was sent over to France as envoy extraordinary ; he had been the first to observe the impression which Mademoiselle de Queroualle had made on the king's excitable fancy, and he resolved to turn it to his own advantage. He had quarrelled with the Duchess of Cleveland — had sworn hatred and vengeance against her; and now to raise her up a rival who should be wholly * France agreed to give two millions of livres (150,000/. ) for the king's conversion to Popery ; and three millions a year for the Dutch war. Large sums of money were distributed to Buckingham, Arlington, Clifford. LOUISE UE QUEROUALLE, DUCHESS OF PORTSMOUTH. APPENDIX. 385 governed by himself, seemed to this Proteixs of gallantry and harlequin of politics, a very master-stroke of art, — worthy of Alachiavel himself He persuaded Louis seriously, that the only way to bind Charles to the French interest, was to give him a French mistress : and he told Charles jestingly, that he ought to take charge of his sister's favorite attendant, if only out of " decent tenderness" for her memory. As to Mademoiselle de Queroualle, a convent was all she could look to in France, and she was not found impracticable. Matters, in short, were soon arranged ; an invitation, so decor- ously worded as to spare the lady's blushes, was sent from the English Court, and she was immediately de- spatched to Dieppe with part of the Duke of Bucking- ham's suite, and his Grace's promise to join her with all convenient speed. But what did that most careless and inconsistent of human beings? His admirable scheme of policy, by which he was to build up his own fortunes and power, and ruin all his enemies, was but "one of the thousand freaks that died in thinking ;" he totally forgot both the lady and his promise, and leaving the dis- consolate nymph at Dieppe to manage as she could, passed over to England by way of Calais. Montagu, then our ambassador at Paris, hearing of the duke's egre- gious blunder, immediately sent over for a yacht, and ordered some of his own people to convey her with all honor to Whitehall, where she was received by Lord Arlington with the utmost respect, and immediately appointed maid of honor to the queen. "Thus," says Burnet, " the Duke of Buckingham lost all the merit he might have pretended to, and brought over a mistress, whom his own strange conduct threw into the hands of his enemies." Though the lady carried it at first very demurely, the purpose of her visit was pretty well understood. * Dry- * It had been foretold apparently, for Madame de Sevign^ thus writes to her daughter: " Ne trouverez-vous pas bon ue savoir que Keroual 25 386 APPENDIX. den, the court-poet of the time, hailed her arrival in some complimentary stanzas, entitled the "Fair Stran- ger," not worth quoting here ;* and St. Evremond ad- dressed to her an epistle, which for different reasons I shall refrain from quoting ; it is sufficient that the ele- gance of the diction was worthy of his pen ; the senti- ments worthy of his epicurean philosophy ; and the morality — worthy of the occasion.! The next we hear of Mademoiselle de Queroualle is from Evelyn, who notes in his diary that he had seen " that famous beauty, the new French maid of honor ;" but adds, "in my opinion she is of a childish, simple, and baby face." We may judge from all the pictures of la Queroualle, that when young, her beauty, though ex- quisite, must have had the character, or rather the want of character, thus described by Evelyn. J Within a year afterwards he met her on a visit at Euston, the seat of Lord Arlington, where she was obviously invited for the gratification of Charles. The French ambassador, Col- bert, and a number of ladies of high rank, nobles and courtiers, were there at the time. Charles came over every other day from Newmarket, and made no secret of his attentions to the young beauty. In the year 1672 she bore the king a son (who was created in 1675 Duke of Richmond and Earl of March in England, and Duke of Lennox and Earl of Darnley in Scotland). In the following year Mademoiselle de Que- roualle was created by letters patent (August 19, 1673) Baroness Petersfield, Countess of Farneham and Duchess of Portsmouth. Yet further to exalt and blazon a shame dont r^toile avail 6ie devitiee avant qu'elle partit, I'a suivie tres-fidele- ment? Le Roi d'Angleterre raaimee, elle s'est trouve avec line l^gere disposition a ne le pas hair; enfin, etc." Lettre 190. *See Dryden's Works, Scott's edit., vol. xi., p. 163. t CEuvres de St. Evreviond, vol. iii., p. 280. X Evelyn's Diary. This note is dated November, 1670, about a month after her arrival in England. APPENDIX. 387 which sought neither disguise nor conceahnent, Louis XIV. conferred on her the Duchy of Aubigny, in the Province of Berri, in France, as a mark of his friendship for liis good brother the King of England, and of his re- spect for the lady, whose progenitors, as the preamble sets forth, "had always held a considerable rank in Brittanv, and had done good service to the throne, etc." Finding that she was likely to prove a staunch supporter of his interests in England, Louis added to the title and dig- nity of Duchess and Peeress of France the revenues of the territory of Aubigny, and a considerable pension. The imbounded power which this woman acquired over the easy disposition of her roj al lover was not owing to any superiority of wit or intellect, nor did she attempt to govern him like the Duchess of Cleveland, by violence and caprices; though imperious and wilful, she was more artful and flexible ; she studied to please and observe the king until she had fixed him, then if he refused or de- layed her wishes, she had tears and sullens, and fits of sickness at command. Her rapacity and prodigality were quite equal to those of her predecessor. "This day," says Evelyn, " I was casually shown the Duchess of Portsmouth's splendid apartment at Whitehall, lux- uriously furnished, and with ten times the richness and glory of the queen's ; such massy pieces of plate, whole tables, stands, etc., of incredible value!" And yet at this time Charles was reduced to the basest expedients for money : shuffling with his ministers, duping his friends, exasperating his people, and absolutely begging like a mendicant of Louis XIV. and using the interces- sion of the duchess to obtain from him occasional sup- plies. * *The Whig part}-, at oue of their meetings, proposed to impeach some of his mistresses, upon account of the poverty in which their ex- travagance had involved him. On which old Lord IVIordaunt said : "That they ought rather to erect statues to the ladies who made their lover dependent on Parliament for his subsistence." 388 APPENDIX. The following note in Evelyn^ also relating to the ex- travagance of the Duchess of Portsmouth, is very char- acteristic. " FollowingHis Majesty this morning through the gallery, I went with the few who attended him into the Duchess of Portsmouth's dressing-room, within her bed-chamber, where she was in her morning loose gar- ment, her maids combing her, newly out of her bed, His Majesty and the gallants standing about her ; but that which engaged my curiosity was the rich and splendid furniture of this woman's apartment, now twice or thrice pulled down and rebuilt to satisfy her prodigality and expensive pleasures, while Her Majesty's does not exceed some gentlemen's wives in furniture and accommodation. Here I saw the new fabric of French tapestry, for design, tenderness of work and incomparable imitation of the best paintings, beyond anything I had ever beheld. Some pieces had Versailles, St. Germains, and other palaces of the French king, with huntings, figures and landscapes, exotic fowls, and all to the life, rarely done. Then for Japan cabinets, screens, pendule clocks, great vases of wrought plate, tables, stands, chimney furni- ture, sconces, branches, braseras, etc., all of massive sil- ver, and out of number ; besides some of His Majesty's best paintings. Surfeiting of this, I dined at Sir Stephen Fox's, and went contented home to my poor biit quiet villa. What contentment can there be in the riches and splendor of this world purchased with vice and dis- honor ! ' ' There was in truth but little of contentment within those splendid walls. It may be that there was not much repentance for the sin — nor much sense of dishonor — but fears and jealousies, and perplexities, and heart-aches ; disgraceful and malicious intrigues, piiblic and private conspiracies, and all the demons that wait on pride, avarice, perfidy, ambition, haunted the precincts of this temple of luxury ; the new peeress in her gems and ermine, was laughed at by Nell Gwyn, hated APrKxnix. 380 by the queen, despised in private, and lampooned in public. In 1675, the arrival of the Duchess of Mazarin in Eng- land had nearly overturned the empire of the Duchess of Portsmouth. That " ladyc errant," after many and notable adventures, came over with the professed inten- tion of captivating the king ; that very king to whom the short-sighted policy of her uncle had once refused her as a bride ! * Hortense concealed, under a languid air and a careless manner, as much arrogance and ambi- tion as a Cleveland or a Portsmouth, with more natural wit than either of them. But born to beauty, rank, power, wealth, she was the complete spoiled child of nature and fortune ; a sort of female Buckingham, in her uncontrollable passions, her extravagant whims, and in- stability of purpose. She had scarcely arrived in Lon- don, where she was received with distinction, when a sudden passion for the Prince de Monaco put to flight all her ambitious views on the heart of Charles ; for with her the last caprice was ever paramount. The court was thus spared the delectable amusement of a combat of daggers or bodkins between the rival duchesses ; but St. Evremond was in despair, and Charles in a fury. The vagrant heart of this royal Squire of Dames had been captivated in the first moment by the attractions of Maz- arin ; she was now dismissed from Whitehall, and he withdrew her pension. After a while his wrath sub- sided, he restored her pension at the earnest intercession of some of her friends at court, but returned to La Ports- mouth, whose power over him was increased by this short estrangement ; she could not, however, by all her arts, detach him from Nell (iwyn, whose genuine wit, unfailing animal spirits, and careless humor, were a re- * It is true, that Charles in his exile had offered to marry this niece of Cardinal Mazarin, and it is true that the offer was refused ; it was then Mazarin's interest to keep well with Croniwell, and the return of Charles to his throne was deemed impossible. 390 APPENDIX. lief from the vapors, caprices and political cabals which often annoyed him in the duchess's boudoir.* As years passed on, her power grew by habit, and with it her arrogance. The ladies of the court tossed their heads at poor Nell, the untitled mistress — but the most immaculate in character, the most illustrious in rank, thought themselves happy in the notice and intimacy of the ennobled courtesan. Now and then she had to en- dure mortifications ; it is true, the Arlingtons, the Sun- derlands, the Arundels, the Cliffords, the Lauderdales — even the lovely young Duchess of York, combined to sur- round the favorite with a glory which kept her in counte- nance and served to gild over her shame — but the Russells, the Cavendishes, the Butlers, stood aloof. She once sent word to the excellent and venerable Duchess of Ormonde that she would dine with her on such a day. The duchess did not decline the honor^ but she sent her two grand-daughters. Lady Betty Stanhope and Lady Emily Butler, out of the house on this occasion, and received the Duchess of Portsmouth alone. They sat down to din- ner, with only her chaplain en tiers ; and we may easily suppose that the Duchess of Portsmouth did not again invite herself to the table of the Duchess of Ormonde, f Carte, who gives m> this characteristic trait, has also related an almost incredible instance of the impertinence. * One of Andrew Marvel's satires thus alludes to the indolent Charles and his insolent mistresses : " In loj'al libels we have often told him How one has jilted him, the other sold him ; How that affects to laugh, how this to weep, But who can rail so long as he can sleep ! Was ever Prince by two at once misled. False, foolish, old, ill-natured and ill-bred?" At all times the licence of personal satire has kept pace with the licence of manners and morals, but the remedy is sometimes as bad as the disease — or rather is itself a disease. t Carte's Life of Ormonde. APPENDIX. 391 rapacity, and influeuce of the favorite. When the daughter of the ill-fated Henrietta of Orleans became Queen of Spain,* Charles ordered the famous jeweller Laguse to prepare an ornament of gems of the value of fifteen thousand pounds, as a present to his niece ; and Lord Ossory was appointed envoy extraordinary' to convey it to her, with the usual compliment of congratu- lation ; but the duchess having in the interim cast her eyes on the jewel, it so pleased her fancy that she insisted on appropriating it. The king had every art but the art of saying no^ and Ossory's journey was stopped, on the plea that economy was the order of the day, and that it ■was too expensive ; on the same economical principle the jewel was presented to the Duchess of Portsmouth. What became of it afterwards I do not know. On another occasion the Duke of York took it into his head to descant in her presence on the virtue and piety of Louis XIV. who, at the command of a new confessor, had sent Montespan into a convent during Lent, in order that he might be contrite with a better grace. The duke related all the circumstances and dwelt upon them with much eloquence and solemnity, to the infinite impatience and embarrassment of the duchess ; she was however qiiiite pour la frayeur. The queen detested her ; but the little spirit which poor Catherine had at first exhibited, as well as her affection for the king, had long subsided, — the first into passive endurance, the latter into absolute indifference. When the act was passed in 1678, obliging all persons to take a test against Popery, and a proviso was inserted in favor of the queen and nine ladies about her person, she required all her attendants to cast lots, but named the Duchess of Portsmouth with herself, as excepted, and not to be exposed to the uncertainty of a lot. The ex- * She was sent into Spain at the age of fourteen, and perished, like her mother, iu the bloom of youth, and by a similar death. 392 APPENDIX. cuse made for this piece of complacency to her rival was her own perilons situation, which made it necessary to display an extreme alacrity in anticipating the wishes of the king. This conduct, the effect of fear only, excited so little gratitiide, that not long afterwards we have an instance of the abject and heartless slavery of Charles, and of the unfeeling insolence of his sultana, which cannot be recorded without indignation. The duchess was lady of the bed-chamber to the queen as Lady Castlemaine had been before her ; not so much to preserve appearances, as to give her, by virtue of her office, a right to lodgings in Whitehall. It may easily be imagined that the duties of her place were dispensed with ; but on one occasion, contrary to her usual custom and the queen's wishes, she chose to attend on^ Her Majesty at dinner, and behaved with so much effrontery, that the queen, who had little command of temper, was thrown into extreme disorder, and at last biirst into tears.* The duchess laughed behind her fan, and uttered some words of derision almost aloud : — this audacity excited so much disgust and indignation that the king interposed. Catherine's spirit was, however, a mere flash of excited temper, and the next time we hear of her she is the Duchess of Portsmouth's partner at Loo. t Many intrigues were carried on against the imperious favorite ; many attempts were made to remove her, or introduce a rival, or a substitute, in the heart of the in- dolent, inconstant Charles — but without effect. She had numerous enemies, and not one friend ; but she had so many spies and dependants around her ; she was so well served through fear or interest, that she contrived to anticipate or defeat all the plots against her, and keep old Rowley chained to her footstool while he lived. J * Sir John Reresby's Memoirs, t Lady Sunderland's Letters. X The interest of the story of " Peveril of the Peak " turns on a plot APPENDIX. 393 Nor did she reign merely through the influence of her beauty and her feminine arts. If this woman had con- fined herself to securing her personal influence in the heart of Charles — if she had been satisfied with amassing wealth and appropriating diamonds, the world had wanted one signal instance of mischievous, misplaced power in our sex. We find the Duchess of Portsmouth almost from her first arrival in England engaged in the deepest and most dangerous state intrigues ; and so com- pletely did she fulfil the intentions and instructions of Louis, in binding her lover to the French interests, that England, to use the strong expression of one historian, "was, in her time, little better than a province of France. ' ' As far as the government was concerned this was true ; but fortunately the tide of national feeling had set in a contrary direction, and though repressed for a while, it was afterwards nobly asserted. In the boudoir of the Duchess of Portsmouth was con- certed that treaty, or rather that conspiracy, between Charles II. and Louis XIV. a principal article of which was, that Charles should not call a Parliament for a certain number of years, and that during that time he should have money from the court of France to enable him to govern independently, and carry his measures without the consent of his people. The amount of this pension caused much dispute. The plea used by Charles to persuade Louis to come in to his terms was, " that it would render England for ever dependant on him, and put it out of the power of the English to oppose him. ' ' of this kind, fictitious of course, but resembling in its outline the story of Miss Lawson. The king obtained the nickname of Old Rowley, from that of an ugly old horse in the royal stud, which was celebrated for the number and beauty of its offspring. He was ignorant of this satirical cognomen, till one day happening to visit one of the maids of honor, he found her singing a most libellous song on " Old Rowley the King." After listening a few minutes at the door, he tapped gently ; "Who's there?" said Miss Lawson from within ; "Old Rowley him- self, madam," replied the king, opening the door. 394 APPENDIX. These were the king's own words — may they stick like plague-spots to his memory ! The Duchess of Ports- mouth promised for her lover, that if Louis would give four million of livres, he should enter into all the en- gagements the King of France could desire. The terms were at last arranged between Bouillon the French envoy, and Lord Sunderland. During this secret negotiation, French money was lavished on all sides d pleines mains: not only the min- isters, courtiers, and their dependants, but some of the women of the highest rank in the Court accepted pres- ents gratifications from France, on conditions pretty well understood; and " «c>/ to be corrupted, was the shame."* Many of these transactions were well known to the king, who treated them with profligate indiffer- ence and even raillery. While Charles and his confidants were bribed into compliance with the wishes of Louis, the French ambassador and the Duchess of Portsmouth were intriguing with the popular or Whig party, in order to embarrass the government, and prevent the king from becoming too independent : and Charles was *The French Minister thus writes to his master — "Lady Arlington having offered in her husband's presence to accept of the present in- tended for her husband, he reproached her, but very obligingly." About a year afterwards, he says : — "My Lord Arlington made me a visit on purpose to let me know how much he is penetrated with the marks of esteem and distinction which Your Majesty has given by the magnificent present made to Lady Arlington." Again, "Lady Shrews- burj-, on receiving her French pension, said. She would make Buck- ingham comply with the king in all things." Again, "If Your Maj- esty thinks I ought again to press Lord Hollis to except the box of diamonds, I may, by means of Lady Hollis, make him accept of it. I don't presume she will be .so difficult as he has been." (Lord Hollis died before the box could be again offeied to him, and it was given to Lord St. Albans.) Montagu was promised 100,000 livres for contriving the disgrace and fall of Lord Dauby, (but received only half the sum ;) " Lord Sunderland and the Duchess of Portsmouth hinted that they expected gratifications from France." (They received 10,000 and 5000 pistoles with a very good grace.) See the original despatches quoted in Dalrymple's Appendix. APPENDIX. 396 duping, or trjing to dupe, all parlies in turn. In the midst of this scene of perfidy and meanness, and moral and political abasement, — while the traitor nobles, and their more traitorous king, were licking the dust like reptiles round the footstool of a French courtesan, was she on whom so much of the odium has been thrown, the most culpable or the most contemptible figure in the vile group? Like Circe, who retained her human and feminine attributes in the midst of the herd of wretches around her, transformed and degraded by the taste of her enchanted cup, she had still some womanly feelings left — and for her^ Justice might find some excuse, — for the others none. She was introduced to the French Court just in time to witness the elevation and triumph of Madame de Montespan ; to see her the object of envy to the wom^en, and of obsequious homage to the men ; to see her carriage surrounded by a troop of horse, and her levee crowded by obsequious nobles ; — Was it to be ex- pected that she alone was to look beyond this illusion, and turn from a temptation which she had learned to regard as an object of ambition ? She was a foreigner ; treachery to England was truth and good service to her own country ; perfidy on one side was patriotism on the other, — at least it has been accounted so in other hero- ines ; only this French Judith was satisfied with turning the head of her lover, and had no wish to cut it off. Farther — she was a woman, with the feelings and affec- tions of a woman. She was attached to Charles, was true to him — to him who believed her the only friend he had in the world, yet did not hesitate to dupe her when- ever he wished through her to dupe others. She doated on her son, and by these two feelings, superior even to her fears and her avarice, she was frequently governed by the intriguing ministers around her. For instance, when the Bill to exclude the Duke of York from the throne was agitated with such factious clamor, the nation beheld the strange spectacle of the French mistress, 396 APPENDIX. leagued with the Whig and Protestant faction, and in- triguing with the popular leaders of the House of Com- mons against the Court ; because that Machiavel, Shaftesbury, had represented to her, that if the usual law of succession was once set aside, her son the Duke of Richmond would become of more importance, and even have some chance of succeeding to the throne : and such was her ignorance or her imbecility, that she fell at once into the snare. They also worked on her fears by threatening to vote her a public grievance. It is said that on this occasion she threw herself at the feet of the king and shed a flood of tears, beseeching him not to sacrifice her and himself to his affection for his brother : but this time she kneeled and wept in vain. It is curious, that during that grotesque and sanguin- ary farce, the Popish plot, which threatened even the person of the queen, the Duchess of Portsmouth not only escaped its all-devouring snares, but enjoyed a kind of popularity, so that when a member of the House of Com- mons rose up to move an address, "That she should be sent out of the kingdom," the purport of his speech was no sooner guessed than it was drowned in a tumult of dissentient voices. One part of this pretended plot being the murder of the king, she had an excuse for being on the opposite side. It is even said that at the trial of poor old Lord Stafford she was in the court dealing out smiles and bon-bons to the witnesses against him. It is said in the life of Lord Russell, that the old Earl of Bedford offered the Duchess of Portsmouth one hun- dred thousand pounds to procure the pardon of his son, and that she refused it. As she was never known to re- sist a bribe, it is more probable that she did make the attempt and failed. In this instance, as in some others, the Duke of York's influence outweighed hers. In the year 1681 her son, the Duke of Richmond, then APPENDIX. 397 about nine years old, was installed a Knight of the Garter. At this period, and previously, the Knights of the Garter wore the blue ribbon round the neck with the George appendant on the breast ; but the duke's mother having some time after his installation introduced him to the king with his ribbon over his left shoulder, and the George appendant on the right side, His ^Majesty was so much pleased with the alteration, that he com- manded it in future to be adopted. Thus the Duchess of Portsmouth has some claim to be considered as joiut patroness of the most noble order of the Garter with the Countess of Salisbury of chivalrous memory, whose face could not have been more fair, and whose fame, by all accounts, was not much fairer. About the same time another secret treaty with France was arranged in the boudoir of Madame la Duchesse. The principal article of this treaty was, that Charles should never more call a parliament, and should receive on that condition two millions of livres for one year, and a million and a half for two years more. Lord Hyde, Lord St. Albans, and the Duchess of Portsmouth were alone privy to this infamous bargain, which was man- aged verbally, but the proofs of which remain in Baril- lon's despatches. It is well known that after this treaty, or rather treason^ had been consummated, Charles dis- solved his parliament and never assembled another. It was a little later, about 1682, that Louis, being resolved to seize on Luxembourg, the key to the Netherlands and Germany, prevailed on Charles, through the influence and caresses of the Duchess of Portsmouth, to look on quietly while this piece of arbitrary' injustice was perpe- trated against the faith of treaties and against the interest of England. Charles received ;^30o,ooo for his passive treachery. The amoimt of the gratification which re- warded the duchess is not ascertained; but she ever after- wards piqued herself on this affair of Luxembourg, and boasted of it as the last and best piece of service she had 398 APPENDIX. rendered the court of France. * In the midst of these vile state intrigues, the interior of Whitehall is described by contemporaries as a scene ' ' of inexpressible luxury and profaneness, gaming and all dissoluteness," but the under current was bitterness, terror and gloom. Charles, who had been so remarkable for his easy gaiety, had latterl)- sunk into a kind of melancholy apathy ; the duchess became alarmed b}- his illness and her own un- popularity. She changed her conduct after the dissolu- tion of the last parliament, turned against the popular part}', connected her interests with those of the Duke of York, and brought Lord Sunderland again into the ad- ministration ; in fact, Sunderland, whose insinuating arts few could withstand, found means to work on her feelings and her fears. He began by proving to her that her son could never hope to succeed to the crown, but that, through his (Lord Sunderland's) interest and that of the Duke of York, she might gain an immense heredi- tary settlement for him. The duke was not wanting in promises on his part, so that on one occasion, in 1684, when the duchess was seized with a sudden indisposition (the consequence of that habitual goiirmandise in which she indulged), she called the king to her and made him swear, in case of her death, to stand by his brother. On her recovery, the Duke of York sent to thank her for a proof of interest, which appeared at least sincere ; yet he contrived to delay, and at length to evade, the promised settlement on her sou. Meantime the king's spirits de- clined ; nothing, as it was commonly said, went near his heart, for in truth he had no heart ; but the inextricable web of difficulties in which his duplicity and extrava- gance had involved him began to prey on his mind. He had been false to all, he was mistrusted by all; insignifi- cant abroad, contemptible at home : while Louis XIV., * Buraet, vol. ii., p. 181. Dalrymple, vol. i., Appendix to Book I. Evelyu, vol. i., p. 537. APPENDIX. 399 sick of his vacillating and tired of his complaints and his mean importunities, not only withheld his pension and intrigued with his subjects against him, but actually threatened to publish through Europe the articles of their secret treaties, which would not only have rendered him detestable in the eyes of all men, but might have proved fatal to his crown and life ; * his father had lost his head for much less cause. Charles was struck at once with terror and rage to be thus over-reached ; his gaiety forsook him, and with it his good-breeding and good nature, wliich were mere manner and temperament. To his natural laziness was added extreme depression of spirits, and a sudden and unusual fit of jealousy increased his ill-humor. In 1684, the Grand-Prieur de Vendome,t brother to the Duke of Vendome, came over from France on some secret mission, and had particular orders to in- gratiate himself with the Duchess of Portsmouth. This Grand-Prieur appears to have possessed in himself a rare union of qualifications ; he was prelate, statesman, sol- dier, courtier, and man of gallantry; very handsome, and very slovenly. He began by losing his money to the duchess, and then, under pretence of state affairs, was so frequently closeted with her, that the king, roused from his usual indolence and indifference, ordered the Grand- Prieur to quit England. Yet his behavior to the duchess at this very time displayed an increase of fondness and confidence, and whether there were any real grounds for this suspicion remains doubtful. Such was at this period the alteration in Charles's spirits and deportment, that the Duchess of Portsmouth beg^an to tremble for him and for herself. When she was about to make a journey to Bath, whither Sir * Barillon, the French envoy, confesses that he had a discretionary power to threaten Charles with this discovery, but was to keep it in reserve as a stroke of thunder. t He was the grandson of Henri Quatre, consequently cousin to the king He came over first in 1680. 400 APPENDIX. Charles Scarborough (the court physician) had ordered her, Lord Sunderland stopped her departure, by asking her if she could be such a fool as to let the king feel he could do without her? Aud taking advantage of her fondness for her lover,* his fertile brain and restless spirit, which seem to have " toiled in frame of vil- lainies," conceived a new plot; he persuaded the duchess that the only means of restoring the king to health and spirits was to prevail on him to change his measures en- tirely, reconcile himself to the parliament and people, banish the Duke of York, and recall Monmouth, t The duchess listened ; always impotent in mind, facile as she was headstrong, and without any fixed principle of con- duct, except that of securing the king's affections and her own power over him, she readily lent herself to Sunderland's projects ; but in the very commence- ment of this new intrigue Charles was seized with apoplexy. It must be allowed that the deportment of the Duchess of Portsmouth, in his last moments, considering her situation and her tenets of belief, did her some honor. She had often been compared to Alice Pierce in the lampoons of the days, but her conduct was very different. It was made a subject of reproach to her, that she was found seated by the king's pillow and supporting his head, where the queen ought to have been (but where the queen was not)\ and it was considered " a piece of indecency" that she had desired Bishop Kenn to take the Duke of Richmond to his father to receive his last blessing ; | but her solicitude on these points does not * The expressions used by Daln-niple. t Lord Sunderland's aim was to ingratiate himself with the Prince of Orange, whose party was becoming every day stronger in England. X The good bishop was much blamed for his compliance. — Vide Burnet. This was the same bishop who, when Charles II. lodged at his house at Winchester, refused to admit Nell Gwyn into it. The king put himself into a passion ; but Nell defended the bishop, ob- APPENDIX. 401 surely deserve so hard a construction. On the second day of the king's seizure, Barillon writes, that he found the duchess in her apartment overwhehned with afflic- tion, but that instead of speaking of her own grief or her own affairs, she appeared extremely anxious for the state of the king's soul. " Nobody," said she, "tells him of his condition, or speaks to him of God. I cannot with decency enter the room ; the Duke of York thinks only of his own affairs. Go to him, I conjure yon, and warn him to think of what can be done to save the king's soul ; lose no time, for, if it be deferred ever so little, it will be too late ! ' ' She had all along been in the secret of Charles's real sentiments with regard to religion, and a priest being brought, he died in the profession of the Catholic faith. He frequently recommended the Duchess of Portsmouth and her son to his successor, "In terms," says Burnet, " as melting as he could fetch out ; " and after his death the first visit of condolence which James the Second paid was to the Duchess of Portsmouth ; the second to the Queen Dowager, whose grief, in truth, was the more apocryphal of the two. Soon after the death of Charles the Second the Duchess of Portsmouth retired to France, carrying with her a large sum in money and jewels ; and from this time, though her life was prolonged be} ond the usual term of humanity, very few particulars are known concerning her. She lived at first with considerable splendor, but lost immense sums at pla}' ; and her pension from Eng- land being stopped, it appears that she was reduced to great difficulties. She came over to England m 1699, and found her son, the Duke of Richmond, married to Lady Anne Brudenell, widow of Lord Bellas^ s, and the father of three children. She returned to Paris, but served that he only did his duty, and retired voluntarily to another lodging. 26 402 APPENDIX. came over again in 1715 and was presented to the Prin- cess of Wales, afterwards Queen Caroline.* Her object, it is said, was to obtain a pension from the English gov- ernment : if she had the assurance to ask it, apparently the government had not the assurance to grant it. In 1 718 she was a poor pensioner on the French court, and was living on an allowance of eight hundred pounds a year. She died at Paris in 1734, aged 87. * At the first drawing-room held by George I., the Duchess of Portsmouth, the Countess of Dorchester, ci-devant mistress of James II. ; and the Countess of Orkney, mistress of William III., found themselves standing together in the royal presence. "Good Lord!" exclaimed Lady Dorchester, whose impudence equalled her wit, " who would have thought that we three should have met here ! " They bad all been raised to the peerage on the same terms. INDEX OF NAMES. Anne of Austria, 88 Arlington, Earl of, 164, 165 Arlington, Countess of, 166 Armine, Susan. See Bellasys. Arran, Earl of, 118, 187, 198, 201 Arscot, Duke d', 94 Bagot, Miss, 248, 252, 253 Bardou, Miss, 239, 245 Barker, Mrs., 263 Barry, Mrs., 279 Batteville, Baron de, 57 Bellasys, Lady, 372, 373, 374, 375, 376, 377, 378, 379 Bellenden, Miss; 239, 245 Blague, Miss, 144, 146, 149, 151, 155, 248 Boynton, Miss, 248, 280, 317, 365 Brice, Don Gregorio, 175 Brinon, 45, 46, 47, 49 Brisacier, 144, 155, 248 Brissac, Duke de, 228, 229, 230 Bristol, Earl of, 195 Brooks, Misses, 122, 196, 197 Brounker, 294, 295, 296, 297 Buckingham, Duchess of, 338, 339 Buckingham, Duke of, 116, 161, 162, 336, 338 Bussy, 33, 196 Cameran, Count, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56 Carlingford, Lord, 346, 348 (403) 404 INDEX OF NAMES. Carnegy. See Southesk Castlemaiue, Countess of, 121, 136, 166, 169, 173, 180, 183, 196, 201, 282, 285, 333, 335, 341, 345, 350, 352, 355. 357 Charles II., 110, iii, 112, 113 Chesterfield, Countess of, 122, 167, 181, 183, 184, I95> 198. 199. 203, 206, 208, 215, 217, 219, 221, 227, 312 Chesterfield, Earl of, 182, 184, 198, 199, 203, 208, 210, 213, 219, 224, 226 Chifiinch, 357 Churchill, Miss, 312, 314, 319, 320 Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, 350, 351 Clarendon, Earl of, 114, 115 Cleveland. See Castlemaiue Comminge, Mons. de, 171 Conde, Prince de, 86, 87, 88, 90, 91, 95, 96, 102, 105, 175, 176, 177 Cornwallis, Lord, 237 Crofts, 202, 348 Cromwell, Oliver, 109 Davis, Mrs., 354, 355 Denham, Sir John, 196, 218 Denham, Lady, 197, 207, 215, 218 Dorset, Duke of, 213, 215, 351 Dongon, 250 Dowager Queen. See Henrietta Duncan, 151 Etheredge, Sir George, 213, 215 Falmouth, Earl of, 117, 160, 170, 171, 186, 189, 233, 253 Feraulas, 324 Feversham, Earl of, 250 Fielding, Miss, 248 INDEX OF NAMES. 405 Fiesque, Countess, 130 Flamarens, 231, 232, 239 Fox, Sir Stepheu, 238 Francisco, 198 Gabour}^, loi Garde, Miss de la, 239, 241, 245 Gibbs, Miss, 365 Gloucester, Duke of, iii Grammont, Mareclial de, 175, 329 Guise, Duke of, 152, 172 Gwyn, Nell, 284, 351, 352, 353, 354 Hall, Jacob, 136, 284 Hamilton, Anthony. See Biographical Sketch I. Hamilton, George, 166, 182, 183, 184, 198, 200, 201, 202, 203, 205, 206, 208, 209, 219, 227, 300, 301, 302, 342, 343, 344, 346, 365 Hamilton, James, 118, 342 Hamilton, Miss, 140, 141, 143, 145, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 153, 154, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 180, 181, 217, 218, 232, 239, 280, 297, 300, 301, 303, 304, 308, 310, 321, 323, 332, 341, 365 Henrietta Maria, Queen Dowager, 119, 125, 177 Hobart, Miss, 248, 251, 252, 253, 259, 260, 261, 267, 268, 269, 270, 271, 272, 273, 313, 314, 315 Hopital, Mademoiselle de 1', 331 Howard, Henry, 159 Howard, Thomas, 137 Humieres, Marechal de, 92, 94 Hughes, Mrs., 306, 307 Hyde, Anne, Duchess of York, 114, 124, 173, 185, 189, 311 Hyde, Mrs., 135 Jennings, Miss, 253, 256, 281, 286, 291, 365 Jermyn, 120, 137, 186, 188, 287, 364 406 INDEX OF NAMEvS. Jones, Earl of Ranelagh, 131 Katherine, Queen Infanta of Portugal, 112, 122, i 168, 338, 340 Killegrew, 187, 242, 244, 276, 277, 278, 335, 337 Kirk, Miss. .S"^'^' Warmestre. La Motte, 94 Lawson, Mrs., 369, 370, 371 lycly, Sir Peter, 217 Leopold, Archduke, 90 Levingston, Miss, 248 L'Orme, Madame de, 228 Louis XIII., 35 Louis XIV., 105 Lussan, Mons. de, 95, 96 Lyttelton, Sir Charles, 255, 265, 365 Madame Royale, 60 Marshall, Mrs., 263 Matta, 61, 78, 84 Mazarin, Cardinal, 88, 103 Mazarin, Peter, 103 Melo, Francisco de, 123 Meneville, Madame, 107 Middlesex. See Dorset Middleton, 122, 132, 138, 139, 141, 143, 158, 181 Monmouth, Duke of, 332, 334 Monmouth, Duchess of, 334 Montagu, Edward, 318 Montagu, Ralph, 138, 318 Montmorency, 96 Motte, Houdancourt, Mademoiselle de, 107 Muskerry, Lord, 145, 154, 304, 308 Muskerry, Lady, 143, 145, 149, 308, 309, 310 Newcastle, Duchess of, 154 INDEX OF NAMES. 407 Olonne, Mademoiselle, 130 Orange, Princess of, 112, 121 Orleans, Madame, Duchess of, 330 Ormond, Dnke of, 115, 236 Ossory, Earl of, 118 Oxford, Earl of, 263, 264 Panetra, Donna, 123 Portsmouth, Duchess of, 380, 381, 382, 383, 384, 385, 386, 387, 388, 389, 390, 391, 392, 393, 394, 395, 396, 397. 398, 399. 400, 401, 402 Poussatin, 174, 177, 178 Pralin, Du Plessis, 36, 10 1 Price, Miss, 150, 151, 155, 248, 249, 250, 251, 267, 274, 278, 283, 286, 290, 292, 293, 295, 296 Progers, Edward, 247 Queroualle, Louise de. See Portsmouth. Rawlings, Giles, 138 Richelieu, Cardinal, 35 Richmond, Duke of, 240, 241, 357, 358, 359, 360, 365 Richmond, Duchess of. See Stewart Robarts, Lady, 193, 194, 195, 211 Robarts, Lord, 193, 194 Rochester, Earl of, 213, 214, 249, 253, 259, 265, 275, 289, 365 Rupert, Prince, 147, 305, 306 Russell, John, 157, 179, 180 Russell, William, 157 St. Albans, Earl of, 116, 120 St. Chaumont, Mme. de, 321, 330 St. Evremond, 33, 127, 129, 131, 158, 161, 211, 366 St. Germain, Madame de, 61, 64, 70, 71, 74 Saucourt, 331 408 INDEX OF NAMES. Sedley, Sir Charles, 213, 215 Senantes, Madame de, 62, 71 Senantes, Marquis of, 73 Shrewsbury, Countess of, 122, 136, 137, 138, 216, 234, 338 Silvius, Sir Gabriel, 245 Southesk, Lady, 190, 233 Stewart, Miss, 133, 161, 202, 258, 335, 357, 365 Suse, Countess de la, 231 Sydney, Robert, 119, 315 Sylva, Don Pedro, 123 TaafFe, Lord, 240, 243, 244 Talbot, Duke of Tyrconnel, 187, 188, 192, 233, 234, 235, 280, 365 Talbot, Peter, 235 Talbot, Thomas, 235 Tambonneau, 231, 232, 233 Tanes, Count de, 60 Taurauvedez, 123 Temple, Miss, 235, 255, 259, 267, 365 Termes, 143, 148, 152, 324 Thanet, Lord, 148 Thomas, Prince, 36 Toulongeon, 159, 161, 367 Turenne, Marechal de, 56, 91, 93 Vendome, Caesar de, 43 Villeroy, loi Warmestre, Miss, 132, 139, 239, 244 Wells, Miss, 246, 247, 248, 256 Wetenhall, Mrs., 297, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302, 308, 310. 342 Yarborough, Sir Thomas, 144, 249 York, James, Duke of, 92, 113, 156, 185, 190, 191, 194, 198, 217, 256, 310 GETTY CENTER LIBRARY 3 3125 00446 6880