' Iff

Jf

/

\

\<<

A

v

/

frll ^

I

%

4*7!

J

;

K
>•>
7
&X5L
~v
urA^r
»\
i
YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

From the Library of
ANNIE BURR JENNINGS
the gift of
ANNIE BURR LEWIS

MEMOIRS

OF

COUNT GRAMMONT

bgiTyKBZaOs .SmM^^*

¦ BIAJEILIE § ML<

MEMOIRS

OF

COUNT GRAMMONT

BY

ANTHONY HAMILTON

EDITED, WITH NOTES, BY
SIR WALTER SCOTT
ILLUSTRATED

PHILADELPHIA
DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER
23 South Ninth Street
1894

j^M^L

®t)is (Edition is Cimiteo to J"ioe ignored (Copice.

YAL6

02.0 e.

CONTENTS.

PAGE
Biographical Sketch of Anthony Hamilton . . vii
Epistle to the Count de Grammont . . . xxii

CHAPTER FIRST.
Introduction 

CHAPTER SECOND.
Arrival of the Chevalier Grammont at the Siege
of Trino, and the Life he led there . . 5
CHAPTER THIRD.
Education and Adventures of the Chevalier Gram
mont BEFORE HIS COMING TO THE SlEGE OF TRINO 1 5
CHAPTER FOURTH.
His Arrival at the Court of Turin, and how he
Spent his Time there .... 35'

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER FIFTH.

He Returns to the Court of France — His Adven
tures at the Siege of Arras — His Reply to
Cardinal Mazarin — He is Banished the Court 67

CHAPTER SIXTH.
His Arrival at the English Court — The various
Personages of this Court ... -93

CHAPTER SEVENTH.
He Falls in Love with Miss Hamilton— Various
Adventures at the Ball in the Queen's Draw
ing-room — Curious Voyage of his Valet-de-
Chambre to and from Paris . . -137

CHAPTER EIGHTH.
Funny Adventure of the Chaplain Poussatin  The
Story of the Siege of Lerida — Marriage of the
Duke of York, and other Details about the
English Court 

CHAPTER NINTH.
Various Love Intrigues at the English Court 2ig

CONTENTS.

VII

CHAPTER TENTH.
Other Love Intrigues at the English Court

PACE 28l

CHAPTER ELEVENTH.
Return of the Chevalier Grammont to France —
He is sent back to England — Various Love In
trigues at this Court, and Marriage of most of
the Heroes of these Memoirs . . . -341

MM!

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

OF

ANTHONY HAMILTON.

F Anthony Hamilton, the celebrated author of
the Grammont * Memoirs, much cannot now
be with certainty known. The accounts pre
fixed to the different editions of his works,
down to the year 1805, are very imperfect ; in that year a
new, and, in general, far better edition than any of the pre
ceding ones, was published in Paris, to which a sketch of
his life was also added ; but it contains rather just criticisms
on his works, than any very novel or satisfactory anecdote
concerning himself. It is not pretended here to gratify
literary curiosity as fully as it ought to be, with regard to
this singular and very ingenious man ; some effort, however,
may be made to communicate a few more particulars relative
to him, than the public has hitherto, perhaps, been acquainted
with. Anthony Hamilton was of the noble family of that name :
* For uniformity's sake the writer of this sketch has followed the
Memoirs in the spelling of this name ; hut he thinks it necessary to
observe that it should be Gramont, not Grammont.

viii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF
Sir George Hamilton, his father, was a younger son of James,
Earl of Abercorn, a native of Scotland. His mother was
daughter of Lord Thurles, and sister to James, the first Duke
of Ormond ; his family and connections therefore, on the mater
nal side, were entirely 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 Eoscrea, in the county of Tipperary,
the usual residence of his father when not engaged by military
or public business.* It has been always said, that the family
migrated to France when Anthony was an infant ; but this is
not the fact : " Sir George Hamilton," says Carte, " would have
accompanied his brother-in-law, the Marquis of Ormond, to
France, in December, 1650 : but, as he was receiver-general in
Ireland, he stayed to pass his accounts, which he did to the
satisfaction of all parties, notwithstanding much clamour had
been raised against him." When that business was settled,
he, in the spring of 1651, took Lady Hamilton and all his
family to France, and resided with Lord and Lady Ormond,
near Caen, in Normandy,f in great poverty and distress, till
the Marchioness of Ormond, a lady whose mind was as exalted
as her birth, went over to England, and, after much solicita-
* In Septemher, 1646, Owen CNeale took Roscrea, and, as Carte
says, " put man, woman, and child to the sword, except Sir George
Hamilton's lady, sister to the Marquis of Ormond, and some few
gentlewomen whom he kept prisoners." No family suffered more in
those disastrous times than the house of Ormond. Lady Hamilton died
in August, 1680, as appears from an interesting and affecting letter of
her brother, the Duke of Ormond, dated Carrick, August 25th He
had lost his noble son, Lord Ossory, not three weeks before.
t Hence possibly Voltaire's mistake in stating that Hamilton was
born at Caen, in his Catalogue des Mcrivains du Sihcle de Louis XIV

ANTHONY HAMILTON. ix
tion, obtained two thousand pounds a-year from her Own
and her husband's different estates in Ireland. This favour
was granted her by Cromwell, who always professed the great
est respect for her. The Marchioness resided in Ireland, with
the younger part of her family, from 1655 till after the Eesto-
ration ; while the Marquis of Ormond continued for a con
siderable part of that period with his two sisters, Lady Clan-
carty and Lady Hamilton, at the Feuillatines, in the Faubourg
St. Jacques, in Paris.
It appears from a letter of the Marquis to Sir Robert South
well, that, although he himself was educated in the Protestant
religion, not only his father and mother, but all his brothers
and sisters, were bred, and always continued, Eoman Catholics.
Sir George Hamilton also, according to Carte,* was a Eoman
Catholic ; Anthony, therefore, was bred in the religion of his
family, and conscientiously adhered to it through life. He
entered early into the army of Louis XIV., as did his brothers
George, Eichard, and John, the former of whom introduced the
company of English gens d'armes into France, in 1667, accord
ing to Le Pere Daniel, author of the History of the French
Army, who adds the following short account of its establish
ment : Charles II., being restored to his throne, brought over
to England several catholic officers and soldiers, who had
served abroad with him and his brother, the Duke of York,
and incorporated them with his guards ; but the parliament
having obliged 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
* That historian states that the king (Charles I.) deprived several
papists of their military commissions, and, among others, Sir George
Hamilton, who, notwithstanding, served him with loyalty and unvary
ing fidelity.

x BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF
them into a company of gens d'armes, and being highly pleased
with them, became himself their captain, and made George
Hamilton their captain-lieutenant* Whether Anthony be
longed to this corps I know not ; but this is certain, that he
distinguished himseK particularly in his profession, and was
advanced to considerable posts in the French service.j
Anthony Hamilton's residence was now almost constantly
in France. Some years previous to this he had been much in
England, and, towards the close of Charles II. 's reign, in Ire
land, where so many of his connections remained.J When
James II. succeeded to the throne, the door being then opened
to the Eoman 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, per
haps, to his Grace's early disapprobation of James's conduct
in Ireland, which displayed itself more fully afterwards, espe
cially in the ecclesiastical promotions.
Henry, Earl of Clarendon, son to the lord-chancellor, was
at that time lord-lieutenant of Ireland, and appears, notwith
standing his general distrust and dislike of the Catholics, to
have held Anthony Hamilton in much estimation : he speaks
of his knowledge of, and constant attention to, the duties of
* They were composed of English, Scotch, and Irish.
t It is not to be forgotten that, at this time, John Churchill, after
wards Duke of Marlborough, served under Marshal Turenne, in the
Bame army.
% 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
OBrien, — a branch of the Thomond family.

ANTHONY HAMILTON. xi
his profession; his probity, and the dependance 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 Sunder
land respecting him, as follows : " I have only this one thing
more to trouble your lordship with at present, concerning
Colonel Anthony Hamilton, to get him a commission to com ,
mand as colonel, though he is but lieutenant-colonel to Sir
Thomas Newcomen, in regard of the commands 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 recommend to make Colonel Anthony
Hamilton a privy-councillor here."* Lord Clarendon's recom
mendations were ultimately successful : Hamilton was made
a privy-councillor in Ireland, and had a pension of £200 a
year on the Irish establishment ; and was appointed governor
of Limerick, in the room of Sir William King, notwithstand
ing he had strongly opposed the new-modelling of the army
by the furious TyrconneL In the brief accounts whicn have
been given of his life, it is said that he had a regiment of in
fantry; but, though this is very probable, there is no mention
whatever of his commanding a regiment in the lists published
of King James's army, which are supposed to be very accu
rate : he is indeed set down among the general officers. Lord
Clarendon, in one of his letters to the lord-treasurer, states,
" That the news of the day was, that Colonel Russell was to
be lieutenant-colonel to the Duke of Ormond's regiment, and
that Colonel Anthony Hamilton was to have Russell's regi
ment, and that Mr. Luttrell was to be lieutenant-colonel to
Sir Thomas Newcomen, in the place of Anthony Hamiltou."f
It is not known whether Anthony was present at the battle
* Chapel-Lrod, July 11, 1686.
t Dublin Castle, October 23, 1688.

xii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF
of the Boyne, or of Aughrhn: his brother John was killed at
the latter ; and Richard, who was a lieutenant-general, led on
the cavalry with uncommon gallantry and spirit at the Boyne :
it is to be wished that his candour and integrity had equalled
bis courage ; but he acted with great duplicity ; and King
William's contemptuous echoing back his word to him, when
he declared something on his honour, is well known* He is
frequently mentioned by Lord Clarendon, but by no means
with the same approbation as his brother. After the total
overthrow of James's affairs in Ireland, the two brothers finally
quitted these kingdoms, and retired to France. Richard lived
much with the Cardinal de Bouillon, who was the great pro
tector of the Irish in France, and kept (what must have been
indeed highly consolatory to many an emigrant of condition)
a magnificent table, which has been recorded in the most glow
ing and grateful terms, by that gay companion, and celebrated
lover of good cheer, Philippe de Coulanges, who occasionally
mentions the " amiable Richard Hamilton "-J" as one of the car
dinal's particular intimates. Anthony, who was regarded par
ticularly as a man of letters and elegant talents, resided almost
entirely at St. Germain : solitary walks in the forest of that
place occupied his leisure hours in the morning ; and poetical
pursuits, or agreeable society, engaged the evening : but much
of his time seems to have rolled heavily along; his sister,
Madame de Grammont, living more at court, or in Paris, than
always suited his inclinations or his convenience. His great
resource at St. Germain was the family of the Duke of Ber
wick (son of James II.).: that nobleman appears to have been
amiable in private life, and his attachment to Hamilton was
.steady and sincere. The Duchess of Berwick was also his
. This anecdote has been erroneously recoroed of Anthony.
t So Coulanges calls him.

ANTHONY HAMILTON. xiii
friend. It is necessary to mention this lady particularly, as
well as her sisters : they were the daughters of Henry Bulkeley,
son to the first viscount of that name : their father had been
master of the household to Charles : their mother was 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 correspondence, and the two last are the ladies
so often addressed as the Mademoiselles B. ; they are almost
the constant subjects of Hamilton's verses ; and it is recorded
that he was a particular admirer of Henrietta Bulkeley ; but
their union would have been that of hunger and thirst, for both
were very poor and very illustrious : their junction would, of
course, have militated against every rule of common prudence.
To the influence of this lady, particularly, we are indebted for
one or two of Hamilton's agreeable novels: she had taste
enough to laugh at the extravagant stories then so much in
fashion, " plus arabes qu'en Arabie,"f as Hamilton says ; and
he, in compliance with her taste, and his own, soon put the
fashionable tales to flight, by the publication of the Quatre
Facardvns, and, more especially, La Flewr d'Epvne. Some
of the introductory verses to these productions are written with
peculiar ease and grace ; and are highly extolled, and even
imitated, by Voltaire. La Harpe praises the Flewr d'Epine,
as the work of an original genius : I do not think, however,
that they are much relished in England, probably because very
ill translated. Another of his literary productions was the
* (O'Brien) ancestor to Marshal Thomond. Lord Clare was killed at
the battle of Eamillies.
t They were wretched imitations of some of the Persian and Arabian
tales, in which everything was distorted, and rendered absurd and pre-

xiv BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF
novel called Le Belier, which he wrote on the following occa
sion : Louis XIV. had presented to the Countess of Grammont
(whom he highly esteemed) a remarkably elegant small country
house in the park of Versailles: this house became so fashion
able a resort, and brought such constant visitors* that the
Count de Grammont said, in his usual way, he would present
the king with a list of all the persons he was obliged to enter
tain there, as more suited to his Majesty's purse than his own:
the countess wished to change the name of the place from the
vulgar appellation of Le Moulineau into that of Pentalie : and
Hamilton, in his novel, wrote a history of a giant, an enchant
ment, and a, princess, to commemorate her resolution. It has
however happened that the giant Moulineau has had the ad
vantage in the course of time ; for the estate, which is situated
near Meudon, upon the Seine, retains its original and popular
designation. About the year 1704, Hamilton turned his attention to col
lecting the memoirs of his brother-in-law, the Count de Gram
mont, as we may conjecture, from the epistle beginning
" Honneur des rives eloigners "f being .written towards the
close of the above year : it is dated, or supposed to be so, from
the banks of the Garonne. Among other authors whom
Hamilton at first proposes to Grammont, as capable of writing
his life (though, on reflection, he thinks them not suited to it),
* Le bel air de la cour est d'aller a la jolie maison, que le roi a donnee
k la Comtesse de Gramont dans le Pare de Versailles. C'est tellement
la mode, que c'est une honte de n'y avoir pas ete. La Comtesse de
Gramont se parte tres-bien : il est certain que le roi la traite a mer-
veille. Paris, le 6 Aout, 1703."— Lettre de Madame de Coulanges a
s Madame de Grignan.
t A translation of this epistle, which is a complete sketch of the
Grammont Memoirs, is subjoined to this Biographical Sketch of the
Author.

ANTHONY HAMILTON. xv
is Boileau, whose genius he professes to admire ; but adds that
his muse has somewhat of malignity ; and that such a muse
might caress with one hand and satirize him with the other.
This letter was sent by Hamilton to Boileau, who answered
him with great politeness ; but, at the same time that he highly
extolled the epistle to Grammont, he, very naturally, seemed
anxious to efface any impression which such a representation
of his satiric vein might make on the Count's mind, and ac
cordingly added a few complimentary verses to him : this let
ter is dated, Paris, 8th February, 1705. About the same time,
another letter was written to Hamilton on the subject of the
Epistle to Grammont, by La Chapelle, who also seemed desi
rous that his life should be given to the public, but was much
perplexed which of the most celebrated ancients to compare
the count to. Mecaenas first presented himself to his imagi
nation : absurdly enough, in my opinion ; for there was not a
trace of similitude between the two characters. This, however,
afforded him some opportunity, as he thought, of discovering
a resemblance between Horace and Hamilton, in which he
equally failed. Petronius is then brought forward, as affording
some comparison to the Count ;— a man of pleasure, giving up
the day to sleep, and the night to entertainment ; but then,
adds La Chapelle, it will be suggested that, such is the per
petual activity of the Count of Grammont's mind, he may be
said to sleep neither night nor day ; and if Petronius died, the
Count seems determined never to die at all. (He was at this
time about eighty-five years of age.) It may well be supposed
that all this, though now perfectly vapid and uninteresting,
was extremely flattering to Grammont ; and the result was,
that he very much wished to have his life, or part of it, at
least, given to the public. Hamilton, who had been so long
connected with him, and with whose agreeable talents he was

xvi BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF
now so familiarized, was, on every account, singled out by him
as the person who could best introduce him historically to the
public. It ig ridiculous to mention Grammont as the author
of his own Memoirs : his excellence, as a man of wit, was en
tirely limited to conversation. Bussy 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, independent of everything
else, what man would so outrage all decorum as to call him
seK the admiration of the age ? for so is Grammont extolled
in the Memoirs, with a variety of other encomiastic expres
sions ; although, perhaps, such vanity has not been without
example. Hamilton, it is true, says that he acts as Grammont's
secretary, and only holds the pen, whilst the Count dictates to
him such particulars of his life as were the most singular, and
least known. This is said with great modesty, and, as to part
of the work, perhaps with great truth : it requires, however,
some explanation. Grammont was more than twenty year3
older than Hamilton ; consequently, the earlier part of his life
could only have been known, or was best known, to the latter
from repeated conversations, and the long intimacy which sub
sisted between them. Whether Grammont formally dictated
the events of his younger days, or not, is of little consequence :
from Ms general character, it is probable that he did not. How
ever, the whole account of such adventures as he was enou<*ed
in, from his leaving home to his interview with Cardinal Maza
rin (excepting the character of. Monsieur de Senantes, and
Matta, who was well known to Hamilton), the relation of the
siege of Lerida, the description of Gregorio Brice, and the in
imitable discoveiy of his own magnificent suit of clothes on

ANTHONY HAMILTON. xvii
the ridiculous bridegroom at Abbeville ; all such particulars
must have been again and again repeated to Hamilton by
Grammont, and may therefore be fairly grounded on the
count's authority. The characters of the court of Charles II.,
and its history, are to be ascribed to Hamilton : from his resi
dence, at various times, in the court of London, his connection
with the Ormond family, not to mention others, he must have
been well acquainted with them. Lady Chesterfield, who may
be regarded almost as the heroine of the work, was his cousin-
german.* But, although the history altogether was written
by Hamilton, it may not perhaps be known to every reader
that Grammont himself sold the manuscript for fifteen hundred
livres ; and when it was brought to Fontenelle, then censor of
the press, he refused to license it, from respect to the character
of the Count, which, he thought, was represented as that of a
gambler, and an unprincipled one too. In fact, Grammont, like
many an old gentleman, seems to have recollected the gaieties
of his youth with more complaisance than was necessary, and
has drawn them in pretty strong colours in that part of the
work which is more particularly his own. He laughed at poor
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, general utility,
united with great vivacity of composition, Gil Bias is
* She was born at the castle of Kilkenny, July, 1640, as appears from
Carte's life of her father, the Duke of Ormond.

xviii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF
unrivalled: but, as a merely agreeable book, the Memoirs
of Grammont perhaps deserve that character more than any
which was ever written: it is pleasantry throughout, and
pleasantry of the best sort, unforced, graceful, and engaging.
Some French critic has justly observed, that, if any book
were to be selected as affording the truest specimen of perfect
French gaiety, the Memoirs of Grammont would be selected
in preference to all others. This has a Frenchman said of the
work of a foreigner: but that foreigner possessed much
genius, had lived from his youth, not only in the best society
of France, but with the most singular and agreeable man that
France could produce. Still, however, though Grammont
and Hamilton were of dispositions very different, the latter
must have possessed talents pecuharly briUiant, and admirably
adapted to coincide with, and display those of his brother-
in-law to the utmost advantage. Gibbon extols the " ease
and purity of Hamilton's inimitable style ;" and in this he
is supported by Voltaire, although he adds the censure, that
the Grammont Memoirs are, in point of materials, the most
trifling ; he might also in truth have said, the most improper.
The manners of the court of Charles II. were, to the utmost,
profligate and abandoned : yet in what colours have they
been drawn by Hamilton ? The elegance of his pencil has
rendered them more seductive and dangerous, than if it had
more faithfully copied the originals. From such a mingled
mass of grossness of language, and of conduct, one would
have turned away with disgust and abhorrence ; but Hamil
ton was, to use the words of his admirer, Lord Orford
« superior to the indelicacy of the court," whose vices he'
has so agreeably depicted ; and that superiority has sheltered
such vices from more than half the oblivion which would
now have for ever concealed them.

ANTHONY HAMILTON. xix
The Count de Grammont died in 1707. Some years after
the publication of his Memoirs, Hamilton was engaged in a
very different work : he translated Pope's Essay on Criticism
into French, and, as it should seem, so much to that great
poet's satisfaction, that he wrote a very polite letter of thanks
to him, which is inserted in Pope's Correspondence. Hamil
ton's Essay was, I believe, never printed, though Pope
warmly requested to have that permission : the reign of
Louis XIV. had now ceased; and, for several years before
his death, the character of the old court of that prince had
ceased also : profligacy and gaiety had given way to devotion
and austerity. Of Hamilton's friends and literary acquaint
ance few were left : the Duke of Berwick was employed in
the field, or at Versailles : some of the ladies, however, con
tinued at St. Germain; and in their society, particularly
that of his niece, the Countess of Stafford (in whose name
he carried on a lively correspondence with Lady Mary Wort-
ley Montague), he passed much of his time. He occasion
ally indulged in poetical compositions, of a style suited to
his age and character; and when he was past seventy, he
wrote that excellent copy of verses, Sur V Usage de la Vie
dans la VieUlesse ; which, for grace of style, justness and
purity of sentiment, does honour to his memory.
Hamilton died at St. Germain, in April, 1720, aged about
seventy-four. His death was pious and resigned. From his
poem, entitled Reflections* he appears, like some other authors,
* Voltaire, upon slight evidence, had imputed to him, at an earlier
period, sentiments of irreligion similar to his own :
Auprfes d'eux le vif Hamilton,
Toujours arme d'un trait qui blesse,
Meclisait de 1'humaine esp£ce,
Et meme d'un peu mieux, dit-on.
But whether Voltaire had any better foundation for insinuating this

xx BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF
to have turned his mind, in old age, entirely to those objects
of sacred regard, which, sooner or later, must engage the atten
tion of every rational mind. To poetry he bids an eternal
adieu, in language which breathes no diminution of genius,
at the moment that he for ever recedes from the poetical
character. But he aspired to a better. The following lines
are interesting, for they evidently allude to his own situation ;
and may every one, who, from a well-directed, or mistaken,
but pure and generous zeal, is, through the course of a long
life, assailed by the temptations of poverty, find that con
solation in an innocence of manners, which Hamilton so well
invoked, and, it is to be hoped, not altogether in vain :
" Eille du cieh pure Innocence !
Asile contre tous nos maux,
Vrai centre du parfait repos !
Heureux celui, dont la Constance,
Vous conservant dans l'abondance,
Ne vous perd point, dans les travaux
D'une longue et triste indigence !"
Whatever were Hamilton's errors, his general character
was respectable. He has been represented as grave, and even
dull, in society ; the very reverse, in short, of what he appears
in his Memoirs: but this is probably exaggerated. Un
questionably, he had not the unequalled vivacity of the
Count de Grammont in conversation ; as Grammont was, on
the other hand, inferior, in all respects, to Hamilton when
the pen was in his hand ; the latter was, however, though
reserved in a large society, particularly agreeable in a more

charge than the libertine tone of Hamilton's earlier works, joined to his
own wish to hold up a man of genius as a partisan of his own opinions,
must remain doubtful ; while it is certain that Hamilton, in his latter
years, sincerely followed the Christian religion.

"¦'///f/f'y-//'' ¦¦ ft «///'///>//¦

ANTHONY HAMILTON. xxi
select one. Some of his letters remain, in which he alludes
to his want of that facility at impromptu which gave such
brilliancy to the conversation of some of his brother wits
and contemporaries. 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 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 for ever remain ; and of Hamilton's genius, the
Grammont Memoirs will always continue a beauteous and
graceful monument. To that monument may also be added,
the candour, integrity, and unassuming virtues of the
amiable author.

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 Corisanda f saw the day,
The blessed abode of Menodore ;
Thou, whom the fates have doom'd to stray
Far from that pleasant shore away,
On which the sun, at parting, smiles,
Ere, gliding o'er the Pyrenees,
Spain's tawny visages he sees,
And sinks behind the happy isles ,
Thou, who of mighty monarchs' court
So long hast shone unerring star,
Unmatch'd in earnest or in sport,
In love, in frolic, and in war !
To you, sir,- this invocation must needs be addressed ; for
* It is dated from Grammont's villa of Semeat, upon the banks of the
Garonne, where it would seem Philibert and Anthony Hamilton were
then residing.
t Corisande and Menadaure were both ancestresses of the Count de
Grammont, and celebrated for beauty.

EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxiii
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 unequalled, and more
marvellous than ever. Our country neighbours, great news
mongers, apprized by their correspondents of the lively sallies
with which you surprise the court, often ask us if you are not
the grandson of that famous Chevalier de Grammont, of whom
such wonders are recorded in the History of the Civil Wars ?
Indignant that your identity should be disputed in a country
where your name is so well known, we had formed a plan of
giving some faint sketch of your merits and history. But who
were we, that we should attempt the task ? With talents
naturally but indifferent, and now rusted by long interruption
of all intercourse with the court, how were it possible for us
to display taste and politeness, excelling all that is to be
* Don Brice is celebrated in the Memoirs, but Donna, Eagueza does
not appear there. d

xxiv EPISTLE TO THE
found elsewhere, and 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 remark-
aole particulars of your life which our memory could supply,
in order to communicate those materials to the most skilful
writers of the metropolis. But the choice embarrassed us.
Sometimes we thought of addressing our Memoirs to the
Academy, persuaded that as you had formerly sustained a
logical thesis,* you must know enough of the art to qualify
you for being received a member of that illustrious body, and
praised from head to foot upon the day of admission. Some
times, again, we thought, that, as, to all appearance, no one
will survive to pronounce your eulogium when you are no
more, it ought to be delivered in the way of anticipation by
the reverend Father Massillon or De La Rue. But we con
sidered that the first of these expedients did not suit your
rank, and that, as to the second, it would be against all form
to swathe you up while alive in the tropes of a funeral
sermon The celebrated Boileau next occurred to us, and we
believed at first he was the very person we wanted ; but a
moment's reflection satisfied us that he would not answer our
purpose. * I presume, when he was educated for the church.

COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxv
Sovereign of wit, he sits alone,
And joys him in his glory won ;
Or if, in history to live,
The first of monarchs' feats he give,
Attentive Phoebus guides his hand,
And Memory's daughters round him stand ;
He might consign, and only he,
Thy fame to immortality.
Yet, vixen still, his muse would mix
Her playful but malicious tricks,
Which friendship scarce might smother.
So gambols the ambiguous cat,
Deals with one paw a velvet pat,
And scratches you with t'other.
The next expedient which occurred to us was, to have your
portrait displayed at full length in that miscellany which lately
gave us such an excellent letter of the illustrious chief of your
house. Here is the direction we obtained for that purpose :
Not far from that superb abode
Where Paris bids her monarchs dwell,
Retiring from the Louvre's road,
The 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.
From thence each month, in gallant quire,
Hit sonneteers in tuneful sallies,
All tender heroes of their allies,
By verse familiar who aspire

xxvi EPISTLE TO THE
To seize the honour'd name of poet.
Some scream, on mistuned pipes and 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,
Shewing their features, rank, and line,
And all their arms, and whence they had them.
We soon saw it would be impossible to crowd you, with
propriety, into so miscellaneous a miscellany: and these various
difficulties at length reconciled us to our original intention of
attempting the adventure ourselves, despite of our insufficiency
and of calling to our assistance two persons whom we have
not the honour to know, but 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.
0 ! thou of whom the easy strain
Enchanted by its happy sway,

COUNT DE GRAMMONT xxvii
Sometimes the margin of the Seine,
Sometimes the fair and fertile plain,
Where winds the 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 labours o'er,
Your aid and influence we implore.
The invocation was scarce fairly written out, when we
found the theatric muse a little misplaced, as neither of the
gentlemen invoked appeared to have written anything falling
under her department. This reflection embarrassed us ; and
we were meditating what turn should be given to the passage,
when behold ! there appeared 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 residing
in London, maintained the closest intimacy. St. Evremond was de
lighted with his wit, vivacity, and latitude of principle : He called him
his hero ; wrote verses in his praise ; in short, took as warm an mterest
in him as an Epicurean philosopher can do in any one but himself.

xxviii EPISTLE TO THE
The sky was clear and still o'erhead,
No earthquake shook the regions under,
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 Laius,
Who, when against his son he pled,
Nor worse nor better wardrobe had,
Than scanty mantle of Emaeus :
Nor did his limbs a shroud encumber,
Like that which vulgar sprites enfold,
When, gliding from their ghostly hold,
They haunt our couch, and scare our slumber.
By all this we saw the ghost's intention was not to frighten
us. He was dressed exactly as when we had first the pleasure
of his acquaintance in London. He had the same air of mirth
sharpened and chastened by satirical expression, and even the
same dress, which undoubtedly he had preserved for this visit,
Lest you doubt it —
His ancient studying-cap he wore,
Well tann'd, of good Morocco hide ;*
The eternal double loop before,
That lasted 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 grey hair, covered
with the leathern cap described in the text.

COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxix
Still boasting of the name of Sage,
He drowned, in floods of generous wine,
The dulness and the frost of age,
And daily paid the homage due,
To charms that seem'd for ever new.
As he arrived unannounced, he placed himself between 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 always 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
approve," said he, " of your plan, and I come to give you some
advice for the execution ; but I cannot comprehend the choice
you have made of these two gentlemen as assistants. I admit,
it is impossible to write more beautifully than they both do ;
but do you not see that they write nothing but by starts, and
that their subjects are as extraordinary as their caprice ?
Love-lorn and gouty, one soft swain
Rebels, amid his rhymes profane,
Against specific water-gruel ;
Or chirrups, in his ill-tim'd lay,
The joys of freedom and tokay,
When Celimena's false or cruel :
The other, in his lovely strain,
Fresh from the font of Hippocrene,
Rich in the charms of sound and sense,
Throws all his eloquence away,
And vaunts, the live-long lingering day,
The languid bliss of indolence.
" Give up thoughts of them, if you please ; for though you

xxx EPISTLE TO THE
have invoked them, they won't come the sooner to your
succour : arrange, as well as you can, the materials you had
collected for others, and never mind the order of time or
events : I would advise you, on the contrary, to choose the
latter years of your hero for your principal subject: his
earher adventures are too remote to be altogether so interest
ing in the present day. Make some short and light observa
tions on the resolution he has formed of never dying, and upon
the power he seems to possejss of carrying it into execution.*
That art by which his life he has warded,
And death so often has retarded,
'Tis strange to me,
The world's envy
Has ne'er with jaundiced eye regarded :
But, mid all anecdotes he tells
Of warriors, statesmen, and of belles,
With whom he fought, intrigued, and slept,
That rare and precious mystery,
His art of immortality,
Is the sole secret he has kept.
" Do not embarrass your brains in seeking ornaments, or
turns of eloquence, to paint his character : that would resemble
strained panegyric; and a faithful portrait will be his best praise.
Take care how you attempt to report his stories, or bons mots :
The subject is too great for you.f Try only, in relating his
" 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.
¦f Bussi-Babutin assures us, that much of the merit of Grammonf s
bons mots consisted in his peculiar mode of delivering them, although his

COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxxi
adventures, to colour over his failings, and give rehef to his
merits. 'Twas thus, by easy route of yore,
My hero to the skies I bore.*
reputation as a wit was universally established. Few of those which
have been preserved are susceptible of translation ; but the following
may be taken as a specimen :
One day when Charles II. dined in state, he made Grammont remark,
that he was served upon the knee ; a mark of respect not common at
other courts. " I thank your majesty for the explanation," answered
Grammont ; " I thought they were begging pardon for giving you so
bad a dinner." Louis XIV., playing at tric-trac, disputed a throw with
his opponent. The bystanders were appealed to, and could not decide
the cause. It was referred to Grammont, who, from the farther end of
the gallery, declared against the king. " But you have not heard the
case," said Louis. " Ah, sire," replied the Count, " if your majesty had
but a shadow of right, would these gentlemen have failed to decide in
your favour V
* St. Evremond, whose attachment to Grammont amounted to enthu
siasm, composed the following epitaph upon him, made, however, long
before the Count's death, in which- he touches many of the topics which
he here is supposed to recommend to Hamilton.
Here lies the Count de Grammont, stranger !
Old Evremond's eternal theme :
He who shared Conde's every danger,
May envy from the bravest claim.
Wouldst know his art in courtly life 2
It match'd his courage in the strife.
Wouldst ask his merit with the fair ! —
Who ever HVd his equal there ?
His wit to scandal never stooping
His mirth ne'er to buffoon'ry drooping :
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 1 — to tell you truly,
He left these cares to my good lady.

xxxii EPISTLE TO THE
For your part, sketch how beauties tender.
Did to his vows in crowds surrender :
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 neighbours,
His prompt address foil'd all their labours.
Canvas and colours change once more,
And paint him forth in various light :
The scourge of coxcomb and of bore ;
Live record of lampoons in score,
And chronicle of love and fight ;
Redoubted 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*
We may once more see a Tnrenne ;
Conde himself may have a double ;
But to make Grammont o'er again,
Would cost dame Nature too much trouble.
* Grammont had promised to the Dauphin, then commanding the
army in Alsace, that he would join him before the end of the campaign
m ounted on a white horse.

COUNT DE GRAMMONT. xxxiii
Tell, too, by what enchanting art,
Or of the head, or of the heart,
If skill or courage gain'd his aim ;
When to Saint Albans' foul disgrace,
Despite his colleague's grave grimace.
And a, fair nymph's seducing face,
He carried off gay Buckingham,*
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 Marais,
Where mimicry of antique lay
Seems to be creeping into fashion.
This new and much-admired way,
Of using Gothic words and spelling,
Costs but the price of Rabelais,
Or Ronsard's sonnets, to excel in.

* Grammont is supposed to have had no small share in determining
the Duke of Buckingham, then Charles the Second's favourite minister,
to break the triple alliance ; for which purp' he went to France with
the Count, in spite of all that the other English ministers, and even
his mistress, the celebrated Countess of Shrewsbury, could do to prevent
him.

jaaair EPISTLE TO THE
With half a dozen ekes and ayes,
Or some such antiquated phrase,
At small expense you'll lightly hit
On this new strain of ancient wit.
We assured the spirit we would try to profit by this last
advice, but that his caution against falling into the languor of
a prosing narration appeared to us more difficult to follow.
" Once for all," said he, " do your best ; folks that write for the
Count de Grammont have a right to reckon on some indulgence.
At any rate, you are only known through him, and, apparently,
what you are about will not increase the public curiosity on
your own account. I must end my visit," he continued, "and
by my parting wishes convince my hero that I continue to in
terest myself in his behalf."
Still may his wit's unceasing charms
Blaze forth, his numerous days adorning ;
May he renounce the din of arms,
And sleep some longer of a morning:
Still be it upon false alarms,
That chaplains come to lecture o'er him ; *
Still prematurely, as before,
That all the doctors give him o'er,
And king and court are weeping for him.
May such repeated feats convince
The king he lives but to attend him ;
And may he, like a grateful prince,
Avail him of the hint they lend him :
* De Grammont having falling seriously ill, at the age of seventy-
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. xxxv
Live long as Grammont's age, and longer,
Than learn his art still to grow younger.

Here ceas'd the ghostly Norman sage,
A clerk whom we as well as you rate
The choicest spirit of his age,
And heretofore your only curate :
Though not a wight, you see, bis spectre
Doth, like a buried parson's, lecture.
Then off he glided to the band
Of feal friends that hope to greet you,
But long may on the margin stand,
Of sable Styx, before they meet you.
No need upon that theme to dwell,
Since none but you the cause can tell ;
Yet, if, when some half century more,
In health and glee, has glided o'er,
You find you, maugre all your strength,
Stretch'd out in woeful state at length.
And forc'd to Erebus to troop,
There shall you find the joyous group,
Carousing on the Stygian border !
Waiting, with hollo and with whoop,
To dub you brother of their order :
There shall you find Dan Benserade,
Doughty Chapelle and Sarazine,
Voiture and Chaplain, gallants fine,
And he who ballad never made,
Nor rhymed without a flask of wine.
Adieu, sir Count, the world around
Who roam'd in quest of love and battle,
Of whose high merits fame did tattle,
As sturdy tilter, knight renown'd.

XXXVI

EPISTLE TO THE COUNT DE GRAMMONT.

Before the warfare of the Fronde^
Should you again review Gironde,
Travelling in coach, by journeys slow,
You'll right hand mark a sweet chateau,
Which has few ornaments to show,
But deep, clear streams, that moat the spot,
'Tis there we dwell, — forget us not !
Think of us then, pray, sir, if, by chance, you should take
a fancy to revisit your fair mansion of Semeat. In the mean
while, permit us to finish this long letter ; we have endeavoured
in vain to make something of it, by varying our language and
style — you see how our best efforts fall below our subject. To
succeed, it would be necessary that he whom our fictions con
jured up to our assistance were actually among the living.
But, alas !
No more shall Evremond incite us,
That chronicler whom none surpasses,
Whether his grave or gay delight us ;
That favourite of divine Parnassus
Can find no ford in dark Cocytus :
From that sad rivers's fatal bourne,
Alone De Grammont can return.

NELL GWYN.

CHAPTER FIRST.

INTRODUCTION.

S those who read only for' amusement are, in my
opinion, more worthy of attention than those
who open a book merely to find fault, to the
former I address myself, and for their enter
tainment commit the following pages to press, without being
in the least concerned about the severe criticisms of the
latter. I further declare, that the order of time and dis
position of the facts, which give more trouble to the writer
than pleasure to the reader, shall not much embarrass me
in these Memoirs. It being my design to convey a just
idea of my hero, those circumstances which most tend to
illustrate and distinguish his character shall find a place in

2 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
these fragments just as they present themselves to my ima
gination, without paying any particular attention to their
arrangement. For, after all, what does it signify where the
portrait is begun, provided the assemblage of the parts
forms a whole which perfectly expresses the original ? The
celebrated Plutarch, who treats his heroes as he does his
readers, commences the Ufe of the one just as he thinks
fit, and diverts the attention of the other with digressions
into antiquity, or agreeable passages of literature, which
frequently have no reference to the subject ; for instance, he
tells us that Demetrius Poliorcetes was far from being so
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 comparison
between him and the unfortunate Mark Antony.
What I have said upon this subject is not meant to reflect
upon this historian, to whom, of all the ancients, we are most
obliged ; it is only intended to authorize the manner in which
I have treated a life far more extraordinary than any of those
he has transmitted to us. It is my part to describe a man
whose inimitable character casts a veil over those faults which
I shall neither palliate nor disguise ; a man distinguished by
a mixture of virtues and vices so closely linked together as in
appearance to form a necessary dependence, glowing with the
greatest beauty when united, shining with the brightest lustre
when opposed.
« It is this indefinable brilliancy, which, in war, in love, in
gaming, and in the various stages of a long life, has rendered
the Count de Grammont the admiration of his age, and the
delight of every country wherein he has displayed his engaging

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 3
wit, dispensed 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-
inots which have been with universal applause transmitted to
posterity. It is owing to this that he preserved his judgment
free and unembarrassed in the most trying situations, and en
joyed an uncommon presence of mind and facetiousness of
temper in the most imminent dangers of war. I shall not at
tempt to draw his portrait : his person has been described by
Bussi and St. Evremond * authors more entertaining than faith
ful. The former has represented the Chevalier Grammont as
artful, fickle, and even somewhat treacherous in his amours,
and indefatigable and cruel in his jealousies. St. Evremond
has used other colours to express the genius and describe the
general manners of the Count ; whilst both, in their different
* Voltaire, in the age of Louis XIV., ch. 24, speaking of that
monarch, says, " even at the same time when he began to encourage
genius by his liberality, the Count de Bussi was severely punished for
the use he made of his : he was sent to the Bastile in 1664. Tlie
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 remem
brance to ruin Bussi, the reputed author of it.
Que Deodatus est heureux,
De baiser ce bee amoureux,
Qui d'une oreille k l'autre va !
See Deodatus with his billing dear,
Whose amorous mouth breathes love from ear to ear I
" His works v.- ere not good enough to compensate for the mischief
they did him. He spoke his own language with purity : he had some
merit, hut more conceit : and he made no use of the merit he had, but
to make himself enemies." Voltaire adds, "' Bussi was released at the
end of eighteen months ; but he was in disgrace all the rest of his life,
in vain protesting a regard for Louis XIV." Bussi died 1693. Of St,
Evremond, see note, postea.

4 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
pictures, have done greater honour to tnemselves than justice
to their hero.
It is, therefore, to the Count we must 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 himseK we
owe these memoirs, since I only hold the pen, while he directs
it to the most remarkable and secret passages of his life.

ELIZABETH, LADY DENHAM.

CHAPTER SECOND.
ARRIVAL OF THE CHEVALIER GRAMMONT AT THE SIEGE OF
TRINO, AND THE LIFE HE LED THERE.

;p^Ep^33N those days affairs were not managed in France
^H i§n/? as a' Present- Louis XIII.* then sat upon
the throne, but the Cardinal de Richelieu t
governed the kingdom ; great men commanded
little armies, and little armies did great things ; the fortune
of great men depended solely upon ministerial favour, and
* Son and successor of Henry IV. He began to reign 14th May,
1610, and died 14th May, 1643.
+ Of this great minister Mr. Hume gives the following character : —
" Undaunted and implicahle, 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,
acquired, by means of his administration, learning, order, discipline,
and renown."

8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
blind devotion to the will of the minister was the only sure
method of advancement. Vast designs were then laying in
the heart of neighbouring states the foundation of that for
midable greatness to which France has now risen : the police
was somewhat neglected ; the highways were impassable by
day, and the streets by night ; but robberies were committed
elsewhere with greater impunity. Young men, on their first
entrance into the world, took what course they thought proper.
Whoever would, was a chevalier, and whoever could, an 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 displaj^ed those
attractive graces which so favourably prepossess, and require
neither friends nor recommendations in any company to pro
cure a favourable reception. The siege was already formed
when he arrived, which saved him some needless risks ; for a
volunteer cannot rest at ease until he has stood the first fire :
he went therefore to reconnoitre the generals, having no oc
casion to reconnoitre the place. Prince Thomasf commanded
the army; and as the post of lieutenant-general was not
then known, Du Plessis Pralinj and the famous Viscount
* Trino was taken 4th May, 1639.
t Of Savoy, uncle of the reigning duke. He died 1656.
% Afterwards Marechal and Duke de Choiseul. He retired from the
ariny in 1672. Monsieur Henault, in his History of France, under that
year, says, " Le Marechal du Plessis ne fit pas cette campagne a cause
de son grand age ; il dit an roi, qu'il portoit envie a ses enfans, qui
avoient l'honneur de servir sa majeste, que pour lui il souhaitoit la mort,
puisqu'il n'etoit plus bon a rien : le roi l'embrassa, et lui dit : ' M. le
Marechal, on ne travaille que pour approcher de la reputation que
vous avez acquise : il est agrfable de se reposer apies tants de vie-
toires.'"

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 9
Turenne* 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 hundreds of
pieces of cannon. Before these furious storms which drive
governors under ground and reduce their garrisons to powder,
repeated sallies bravely repulsed, and vigorous attacks nobly
* This great general was killed July 27, 1675, by a cannon-shot, near
the village of Salzbach, in going to choose a place whereon to erect a
battery. — " No one," sayB 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 father, looking towards Turenne, said, ' It is not I, but that
great man, who should be lamented.' These words may be compared
with the most heroic sayings recorded in all history, and are the best
eulogy that can be bestowed upon Turenne. It is uncommon, under a
despotic government, where people are actuated only by their private
interests, for those who have served then: country to die regretted 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 honours which the king ordered to be paid to his memory are
known to every one ; and that he was interred at St. Denis, in the
same manner as the Constable du Guesclin, above whom he was eleva
ted by the voice of the public, as much as the age of Turenne was
superior to the age of the constable."
In former editions, the quotation from Voltaire was yet longer. It is
more germane to the present matter to observe, that it appears, from the
Memoirs of St. Hilaire, where Voltaire found his anecdote, that Count
Hamilton was present at the death of Turenne. Monsieur de Boze had
twice sent to Turenne, to beg him to come to the place where the battery
was to be erected, which Turenne, as if by presentiment, declined.
Count Hamilton brought the third anxious request from De Boze ; and
in riding to the place where he was, Turenne received his death-blow.
The horse of Montecuculi, the opposite general, was, in the course of
the same day, killed by a cannon-shot

io MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
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 en
dured, and considerable losses sustained; but fatigue was no
more considered, hardships were no more felt in the trenches,
gravity was at an end with the generals, and the troops were
no longer dispirited after the arrival of the Chevalier Gram
mont. Pleasure was his pursuit, and he made it universal.
Among the officers in the army, as in all other places,
there are men of real merit, or pretenders to it. The latter
endeavoured to imitate the Chevalier Grammont in his most
shining qualities, but without success ; the former admired
his talents and courted his friendship. Of this number was
Matta :* He was agreeable in his person, but still more by
?Matta, or Matha, of whom Hamilton has drawn so striking a picture,
is said to have been of the house of Bourdeille, which had the honour
to produce Brantome and Montresor. The combination of indolence
and talent, of wit and simplicity, of bluntness and irony, with which he
is represented, may have been derived from tradition, but could only
have been united into the inimitable whole by the pen of Hamilton.
Several of his bons-mots have been preserved; but the spirit evaporates
in translation. " Where could I get this nose," said Madame D'Albret,
observing a slight tendency to a flush in that feature. " At the side
board, Madame,'' answered Matta. When the same lady, in despair at
her brother's death, refused all nourishment, Matta administered this
blunt consolation : " If you are resolved, madame, never again to
swallow food, you do well ; but if ever you mean to eat upon any
future occasion, believe me, you may as well begin just now " Madame
Caylus, in lier Souvenirs, commemorates the simple and natural humour
of Matta as rendering him the most delightful society in the world.
Mademoiselle, in her Memoirs, alludes to his pleasantry in conversation,
and turn for deep gaming. When the Memoirs of Grammont were
subjected to the examination of Fontenelle, then censor of the Parisian

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. n
the natural turn of his wit ; he was plain and simple in his
manners, but endued with a quick discernment and refined
delicacy, and full of candour and integrity in all his actions.
The Chevalier Grammont was not long in discovering his
amiable qualities ; an acquaintance was soon formed, and was
succeeded by the strictest intimacy.
Matta insisted that the Chevalier should take up his
quarters with him ; to which he only consented on condition
of equally contributing to the expense. As they were both
liberal and magnificent, at their common cost they gave the
best designed and most luxurious entertainments that had
ever yet been seen. Play was wonderfully productive at
first, and the Chevalier restored by a hundred different ways
that which he obtained only by one. The generals, being en
tertained by turns, admired their magnificence, and were dis
satisfied with their own officers for not keeping such good
tables and attendance. The Chevalier had the talent of
setting off the most indifferent things to advantage ; and his
wit was so generally acknowledged, that it was a kind of dis
grace not to submit to his taste. To him Matta resigned the
care of furnishing the table and doing its honours ; and,
charmed with the general applause, persuaded himself that
nothing could be more honourable than their way of living,

.press, he refused to license them, 01 •wcoi ut of the scandalous conduct
imputed to Grammont in this pai\y at quinze. The count no sooner
heard of this than he hastened to Fontenelle, and having joked him for
being more tender of his reputation than he was himself, the license was
instantly issued. The censor might have retorted upon Grammont the
answer which the count made to a widow who received coldly bis
compliments of condolence on her husband's death : " Nay, madame,
if that is the way you take it, I care as little about it as you do." He
died in 1674. " Matta est mort sans confession," says Madame Main-
tenon, in a letter to her brother. Tome I., p. 67.

j 2 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
and nothing more easy than to continue it; but he soon per
ceived that the greatest prosperity is not the most lasting.
Good living, bad economy, dishonest servants, and ill-luck,
all uniting together to disconcert their housekeepmg, then-
table was going to be gradually laid aside, when the Cheva
lier's genius, fertile in resources, undertook to support his
former credit by the following expedient.
They had never yet conferred about the state of their
finances, although the steward had acquainted each, separately,
that he must either receive money to continue the expenses,
or give in his accounts. One day, when the Chevalier came
home sooner than usual, he found Matta fast asleep in an easy
chair, and, being unwilling to disturb bis rest, he began
musing on his project. Matta awoke without his perceiving
it ; and having, for a short time, observed the deep contem
plation he seemed involved in, and the profound silence be
tween two persons who had never held their tongues for a
moment when together before, he broke it by a sudden fit of
laughter, which increased in proportion as the other stared at
him. " A 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-drh6tel, our cook, and our confec
tioner, having resolved, for the remainder of the campaign, to
live upon others as others have lived upon us: this was my
dream. Now tell me, Chevalier, on what were you musino- V
" 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 tho
niaitre-d'hotel has been telling you as well as me. What '

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. i3
after the figure we have made in the face of the nobility and
foreigners in the army, shall we give it up, and hke fools and
beggars sneak off, upon the first failure of our money ! Have
you no sentiments of honour? Wliere is the dignity of
France ?" " And where is the money ?" said Matta ; " for my
men say, the devil may take them, if there be ten crowns in
the house ; and I believe you have not much more, for it is
above a week since I have seen you pull out your purse, or
count your money, an amusement you were very fond of in
prosperity." " I own all this," said the Chevalier, " but yet I
will force you to confess, that you are but a mean-spirited
fellow upon this occasion. What would liave 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."

QUEEN KATHERINE OF KRAGANZA.

CHAPTER THIRD.
EDUCATION AND ADVENTURES OF THE CHEVALIER GRAM
MONT BEFORE HIS COMING TO THE SIEGE OF TRINO.

i HIS," said Matta, " smells strongly of romance,
except that it should have been your squire's
part to tell your adventures."
" True," said the Chevalier ; " however, I
may acquaint you with my first exploits without offending
my modesty; besides, my squire's style borders too much
upon the burlesque for an heroic narrative.
" You must know, then, that upon my arrival at Lyons — "
" Is it thus you begin ? " said Matta. " Pray give us your
history a httle further back. The most minute particulars of
a Ufe like yours are worthy of relation ; but above all, the
manner in which you first paid your respects to Cardinal
Richeheu : I have often laughed at it. However, you may
pass over the unlucky pranks of your infancy, your genealogy f
name and quality of your ancestors, for that is a subject with
which you must be utterly unacquainted." 17

18 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
"Pooh !" said the Chevalier; "you think that all the world
is as ignorant as yourself ; — you think that I am a stranger to
the Mendores and the Corisandes. So, perhaps I don't know
that it was my father's own fault that he was not the son of
Henry IV. The king would by all means have acknowledged
him for his son, but the traitor would never consent to it. See
what the Grammonts would have been now, but for this cross-
grained fellow ! They would have had precedence of the
Csesars de Vend6me. You may laugh if you like, yet it is
as true a3 the gospel : but let us come to the point.
" I was sent to the college of Pau, with the intention of
being brought up to the church ; but as I had quite different
views, I made no manner of improvement : gaming was so
much in my head, that both my tutor and the master lost
their labour in endeavouring to teach me Latin. Old Brinon,
who served me both as valet-de-chambre and governor, in vain
threatened to acquaint my mother. I only studied when I
pleased, that is to say, seldom or never : however, they treated
me as is customary with scholars of my quality ; I was raised
to all the dignities of the forms, without having merited them,
and left college nearly in the same state in which I entered
it ; nevertheless, I was thought to have more knowledge than
was requisite for the abbacy which my brother had solicited
for me. He had just married the niece of a minister, to whom
every one cringed : he was desirous to present me to him. I
felt but httle regret to quit the country, and great impatience
to see Paris. My brother having kept me some time with
him, in order to polish me, let me loose upon the town to
shake off my rustic air, and learn the manners of the world.
I so thoroughly gained them, that I could not be persuaded
to lay them aside when I was introduced at court in the cha
racter of an Abbe\ You know what kind of dress was then the

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. ro
fashion. All that they could obtain of mo was to put a cas
sock over my other clothes, and my brother, ready to die with
laughing at my ecclesiastical habit, made others laugh too. I
had the finest head of hair in the world, well curled and pow
dered, above my cassock, and below were white buskins and
gilt spurs. The Cardinal, who had a quick discernment, could
not help laughing. This elevation of sentiment gave him um
brage ; and he foresaw what might be expected from a genius
that already laughed at the shaven crown and cowl.
" When my brother had taken me home, ' Well, my httle
parson,' said he, ' you have acted your part to admiration, and
your parti-coloured dress of the ecclesiastic and soldier has
greatly diverted the court ; but this is not all : you must now
choose, my httle knight. Consider then, whether, by sticking
to the church, you will possess great revenues, and have
nothing to do ; or, with a small portion, you will risk the loss
of a leg or arm, and be thefructus belli of an insensible court,
to arrive in your old age at the dignity of a major-general,
with a glass "eye and a wooden leg.' ' I know,' said I, ' that there
is no comparison between these two situations, with regard to
the conveniences of' life ; but, as a man ought to secure his
future state in preference to all other considerations, I am re
solved to renounce the church for the salvation of my soul,
upon condition, however, that I keep my abbacy.' Neither the
remonstrances nor authority of my brother could induce me to
change my resolution ; and he was forced to agree to this last
article in order to keep me at the academy. You know that
I am the most adroit man in France, so that I soon learned
all that is taught at such places, and, at the same time, I also
learnt that which gives the finishing stroke to a young fellow^
education, and makes him a gentleman, viz. all sorts of games,
both at cards and dice ; but the truth is, I thought, at first.

20 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
that I had more skill in them than I really had, as experience
proved. When my mother knew the choice I had made, she
was inconsolable ; for she reckoned, that had I been a clergy
man I should have been a saint ; but now she was certain
that I should either be a devil in the world, or be killed in the
wars. And indeed I burned with impatience to be a soldier ;
but being yet too young, I was forced to make a campaign at
Bidache* before I made one in the army. When I returned
to my mother's house, I had so much the air of a courtier and
a man of the world, that she began to respect me, instead of
chiding me for my infatuation towards the army. I became
her favourite, and finding me inflexible, she only thought of
keeping me with her as long as she could, while my httle
equipage was preparing. The faithful Brinon, who was to
attend me as valet-de-chambre, was likewise to discharge the
office of governor and equerry, being, perhaps, the only Gascon
who was ever possessed of so much gravity and ill-temper.
He passed his word for my good behaviour and morahty, and
promised my mother that he would give a good account of my
person in the dangers of the war ; but I hope he will keep his
word better as to this last article than he has done as to the
former. "My equipage was sent away a week before me. This
was so much time gained by my mother to give me good
advice. At length, after having solemnly enjoined me to
have the fear of God before my eyes, and to love my neigh
bour as myself, she suffered me to depart, under the protection
of the Lord and the sage Brinon. At the second stage we
quarrelled. He had received four hundred louis d'or for the
expenses of the campaign : I wished to have the keeping of
*A principality belonging to the family of the Grammonts, in the
province of Gascony.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 21
them myself, which he strenuously opposed. 'Thou old scoun
drel,' said I, ' is the money thine, or was it given thee for me ?
You suppose I must have a treasurer, and receive no money
without his order. I know not whether it was from a pre
sentiment of what afterwards happened that he grew melan
choly ; however, it was with the greatest reluctance, and the
most poignant anguish, that he found himself obliged to yield.
One would have thought that I had wrested his very soul from
him. I found myself more light and merry after I had eased
him of his trust ; he, on the contrary, appeared so overwhelmed
with grief, that it seemed as if I had laid four hundred pounds
of lead upon his back, instead of taking away these four hun
dred louis. He went on so heavily, that I was forced to whip
his horse myself, and turning to me, now and then, ' All ! sir,
said he, my lady did not think it would be so.' His reflec
tions and sorrows were renewed at every stage ; for, instead
of giving a shilling to the post-boy, I gave him half-a-
crown. " Having at last reached Lyons," two soldiers stopped us at the
gate of the city, to carry us before the governor. I took one
of them to conduct me to the best inn, and delivered Brinon
into the hands of the other, to acquaint the commandant with
the particulars of my journey, and my 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 poisoner by profession, and a thief
by custom. He showed me into a tolerably neat room, and
desired to know whether I pleased to sup by myself or at the
ordinary. I chose the latter, on account of the beau monde
which the soldier had boasted of

22 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
" Brinon, who was quite out of temper at the many questions
which the governor had asked him, returned more surly than
an old ape ; and seeing that I was dressing my hair, in order to
go downstairs : ' What are you about now, sir ?' said he.
' Are you going to tramp about the town ? No, no ; have
we not had tramping enough ever since the morning ? Eat a
bit of supper, and go to bed betimes, that you may get on
horseback by day-break.' ' Mr. Comptroller,' said I, ' I shall
neither tramp about the town, nor eat alone, nor go to bed
early. 1 intend to sup with the company below.' ' At the
ordinary !' cried he ; 'I beseech you, sir, do not think of it !
Devil take me, if there be not a dozen brawling fellows play
ing at cards and dice, who make noise enough to 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 supper, if you please ; but take
care that I have post-horses ready before daybreak.' The mo
ment he mentioned cards and dice, I felt the money burn in
my pocket. I was somewhat surprised, however, to find tho
room where the ordinary was served filled with odd-looking
creatures. My host, after presenting me to the company, as
sured me that there were but eighteen or twenty of those
gentlemen who woidd have the honour to sup with me. I ap
proached one of the tables where they were playinf, and
thought I should have died with laughing: I expected to have
seen good company and deep play ; but I only met with two
Germans playing at backgammon. Never did two country
loobies play like them ; but their figures beggared all descrip
tion. The fellow near whom I stood was short, thick, and
fat, and as round as a ball, with a ruff, and prodigious high-

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 23
crowned hat. Any one, at a moderate distance, would have
taken him for the dome of a church, with the steeple on the
top of it. I inquired of the host who he was. ' A merchant
from Basle,' said he, ' who comes hither to sell horses ; but from
the method he pursues, I think he will not dispose of many ;
for he does nothing but play.' ' Does he play deep ?' said I.
' Not now,' said he ; ' they are only playing for their reckon
ing, while supper is getting ready ; but he has no objection to
play as deep as any one.' ' Has he money V said I. ' As for
that,' replied the treacherous Cerise, * would to God you had
won a thousand pistoles of him, and I went your halves ; we
should not be long without our money.' I wanted no further
encouragement to meditate the ruin of the high-crowned hat.
I went nearer to him, in order to take a closer survey ; never
was such a bungler; he made blots upon blots; God knows,
I began to feel some remorse at winning of such an ignora
mus, who knew so httle of the game. He lost his reckoning ;
supper was served up ; and I desired lihn to sit next me. It
was a long table, and there were at least five-and-twenty in
company, notwithstanding the landlord's promise. The most
execrable repast that ever was begun being finished, all the
crowd irsensibly dispersed, except the httle Swiss, who still
kept near me, and the landlord, who placed himself on the
other side of me. They both smoked like dragoons ; and the
Swiss was continually saying, in bad French, ' I ask your par
don, sir, for ray great freedom,' at the same time blowing sucli
whiffs of tobacco in my face as almost suffocated me. Mr.
Cerise, on the other hand, desired he might take the liberty of
asking me whether I had ever been in his country ? and
seemed surprised I had so genteel an air, without having tra
velled in Switzerland.
" The httle chub I had to encounter was full as inquisitive as

«4 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
the ether. 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 hke a gammon of bacon ;
and being quite wearied out, both with their tobacco and their
questions, I asked my companion if he would play for a single
pistole at backgammon, while our men were supping ; it was
not without great ceremony that he consented, at the same
time asking my pardon for his great freedom.
" I won the game ; I gave him his revenge, and won again.
We then played double or quit ; I won that too, and all in the
twinkling of an eye ; for he grew vexed, and suffered himself
to be taken in so that I began to bless my stars for my good
fortune. Brinon came in about the end of the third game, to
put me to bed, he made a great sign of the cross, but paid no
attention to the signs I made him to retire. I was forced to
rise to give him that order in private. He began to reprimand
me for disgracing 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 hke a child. ' He a merchant !' cried Brinon. ' Do
not believe that, sir ! May the devil take me, if he is not
some conjurer.' 'Hold your tongue, old fool,' said I; 'he is
no more a conjurer than you are, and that is decisive ; and, to
prove it to you, I am resolved to win four or five hundred
pistoles of him before I go to bed. With these words I turned
him out, strictly enjoining him not to return, or in any man
ner to disturb us.
" The game being done, the little Swiss unbuttoned his
pockets, to pull out a new four-pistole piece, and presenting it
to me, he asked my pardon for his great freedom, and seemed

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 25
as if 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 consented 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 the stake, and
played double or quit again. I was vexed ; he, like a true
gamester, took every bet I offered, and won all before him,
without rny getting more than six points in eight or ten games.
I asked him to play a single game for one hundred pistoles ;
but as he saw I did not stake, he told me it was late ; that he
must go and look after his horses ; and went away, still asking
my pardon for his great freedom. The cool manner of his re
fusal, and the politeness with which he took his leave, pro
voked me to such a degree, that I could almost have killed
him. I was so confounded at losing my money so fast, even
to the last pistole, that I did not immediately consider the
miserable situation to which I was reduced.
" I durst not go up to my chamber for fear of 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 con
sequences of my adventure presented themselves to my imagi
nation. I could not sleep. I saw all the horrors of my mis
fortune, without being able to find any remedy ; in vain did I
rack my brain ; it supplied me with no expedient. I feared
nothing so much as daybreak ; however, it did come, and the
cruel Brinon along with it. He was booted up to the middle,
and cracking a cursed whip, which he held in his hand, ' Up,
Monsieur le Chevalier,' cried he, opening the curtains : ' the

26 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
horses are at the dooi, and you are still asleep. We ought by
this time to have ridden two stages; give me money to pay the
reckoning.' ' Brinon,' said I, in a dejected tone, ' draw the
curtains.' 'What!' cried he, ' draw the curtains! Do you
intend, then, to make your campaign at Lyons ? you seem to
have taken a liking to the place. And for the great merchant,
you have stripped him, I suppose ? No, no, Monsieur le Che
valier, tins money will never do you any good. This wretch
has, perhaps, a family ; and it is his children's bread that he
has been playing with, and that you have won Was this an
object to sit up all ni^ht for ? What would my lady say, if
she knew what a life you lead ?' ' M. Brinon,' said I, ' pray
draw the curtains.' But instead of obeying me, one would have
thought that the devil had prompted him to use the most
pointed and galling terms to a person under such misfortunes.
' And how much have you won ?' said he ; ' five hundred pis
toles 1 what must the poor man do 1 Recollect, Monsieur le
Chevalier, what I have said, this money will never thrive with
you. It is, perhaps, but four hundred ? three ? two ? well if it
be but one hundred louis d'or, continued he, seeing that I
shook my head at every sum which he had named, there is no
great mischief done ; one hundred pistoles will not ruin him,
provided you have won them fairly.' ' Friend Brinon,' said I,
fetching a deep sigh, ' draw the curtains ; I am unworthy to
see daylight.' Brinon was much affected at these melancholy
words, but I thought he would have fainted, when I told him
the whole adventure. He tore his hair, made grievous lamen
tations, the burden of which still was, ' What will my lady say V
And, after having exhausted his unprofitable complaints, ' What
will become of you now, Monsieur le Chevalier ?' said he, ' what
do you intend to do V ' Nothing,' said I, ' for I am fit for no
thing. After this, being somewhat eased after making him my

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 27
confession, I thought upon several projects, to none of which
could I gain his approbation. I would have had him post
after my equipage, to have sold some of my clothes. I was
for proposing to the horse-dealer to buy some horses of him at
a high price on credit, to sell again cheap. Brinon laughed at
all these schemes, and after having had the cruelty of keeping
me upon the rack for a long time, he at last extricated me.
Parents are always stingy towards their poor children ; my
mother intended to have given me five hundred louis d'or, but
she had kept back fifty, as well for some httle repairs in the
abbey, as to pay for praying for me. Brinon had the charge
of the other fifty, with strict injunctions not to speak of them,
unless upon some urgent necessity. And this you see soon
happened. " Thus you have a brief account of my first adventure. Play
has hitherto favoured me ; for, since my arrival, I have had,
at one time, after paying all my expenses, fifteen hundred
louis d'or. Fortune is now again become unfavourable : we
must mend her. Our cash runs low ; we must, therefore, en
deavour to recruit."
" Nothing is more easy," said Matta ; " it is only to find out
such another dupe as the horse-dealer at Lyons ; but now I
think on it, has not the faithful Brinon some reserve for the
last extremity ? Faith, the time is now come, and we cannot
do better than to make use of it."
" Your raillery would be very seasonable," said the Chevalier,
" if you knew how to extricate us out of this difficulty. You
must certainly have an overflow of wit, to be throwing it away
upon every occasion as at present. What the devil ! will you
always be bantering, without considering what a serious situ
ation we are reduced to. Mind what I say, I will go to
morrow to the head-quarters, I will dine with the Count de
c

28 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Cameran, and I will invite him to supper." " Where ?" said
Matta. " Here," said the Chevaher. " You are mad, my poor
friend," replied Matta. "This is some such project as you
formed at Lyons: you know we have neither money nor
credit ; and, to re-establish our circumstances, you intend to
give a supper."
" Stupid fellow !" said the Chevaher, " is it possible, that, so
long as we have been acquainted, you should have learned no
more invention? The Count de Cameran plays at quinze,
and so do I ; we want money ; he has more than he knows
what to do with ; I will bespeak a splendid supper, he shall
pay for it. Send your maitre-d'hotel to me, and trouble your
self no further, except in some precautions, which it is neces
sary to take on such an occasion." " What are they 1" said
Matta. '' I will tell you," said the Chevaher ; "for I find one
must explain to you things that are as clear as noon-day."
" You command the guards that are here, don't you ? As
soon as night comes on, you shall order fifteen or twenty men,
under the command of your sergeant La Place, to be under
arms, and to lay themselves flat on the ground, between this
place and the head-quarters." " What the devil !" cried Matta,
" an ambuscade ? God forgive me, I believe you intend to rob the
poor Savoyard. 1£ that be your intention, I declare I will have
nothing to say to it." " Poor devil !" said the Chevaher, " the
matter is this ; it is very likely that we shall win his money.
The Piedmontese, though otherwise good fellows, are apt to
be suspicious and distrustful. He commands the horse ; you
know you cannot hold your tongue, and are very likely to let
slip some jest or other that may vex him. Should he take it
into his head that he is cheated, and resent it, who knows
what the consequences might be ? for he is commonly attended
by eight or ten horsemen. Therefore, however he may be

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 29
provoked at his loss, it is proper to be in such a situation as
not to dread Ids resentment."
" Embrace me, my dear Chevaher," said Matta, holding his
sides and laughing; " embrace me, for thou art not to be matched.
What a fool I was to think, when you talked to me of taking
precautions, that nothing more was necessary than to prepare
a table and cards, or perhaps to provide some false dice ! I
should never have thought of supporting a man who plays at
quinze by a detachment of foot : I must, indeed, confess that
you are already a great soldier."
The next day everything happened as the Chevaher Gram
mont had planned it ; the unfortunate Cameran fell into the
snare. They supped in the most agreeable manner possible :
Matta drank five or six bumpers to drown a few scruples
which made him somewhat uneasy. The Chevaher de Gram
mont shone as usual, and almost made his guest die with
laughing, whom he was soon after to make very serious ; and
the good-natured Cameran ate like a man whose affections
were divided between good cheer and a love of play ; that is
to say, he hurried down his victuals, that he might not lose
any of the precious time which he had devoted to quinze.
Supper being done, the sergeant La Place posted his ambus
cade, and the Chevaher de Grammont engaged his man. The
perfidy of Cerise, and the high-crowned hat, were still fresh in
remembrance, and enabled him to get the better of a few
grains of remorse, and conquer some scruples which arose in
his mind. Matta, unwilling to be a spectator of violated hos
pitality, sat down in an easy chair, in order to fall asleep,
while the Chevaher was stripping the poor Count of his
money. They only staked three or four pistoles at first, just for
amusement ; but Cameran having lost three or four times, he

30 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
staked high, and the game became serious. He still lost, and
became outrageous ; the cards flew about the room, and the
exclamations awoke Matta.
As his head was heavy with sleep, and hot with wine, he
began to laugh at the passion of the Piedmontese, instead of
consoling him. " Faith, my poor Count," said he, " if I were in
your place, I would play no more." " Why so ?" said the other.
"I don't know," said he, "but my heart tells me that your ill-
luck will continue." " I will try that," said Cameran, calling for
fresh cards. " Do so," said Matta, and fell asleep again. It was
but for a short time. AU cards were equally unfortunate for
the loser. He held none but tens or court-cards ; and if by
chance he had quinze, he was sure to be the younger hand,
and therefore lost it. Again he stormed. " Did not I tell you
so ?" said Matta, starting out of his sleep. " AU your storming
is in vain ; as long as you play you will lose. Beheve me,
the shortest follies are the best. Leave off, for the devil take
me if it is possible for you to win." " Why ?" said Cameran,
who began to be impatient. " Do you wish to know ?" said
Matta ; " why, faith, it is because we are cheating you."
The Chevaher de Grammont was provoked at so ill-timed a
jest, more especially as it carried along with it some appearance
of truth. " Mr. Matta," said he, " do you think it can be very
agreeable for a man who plays with such ill-luck as the Count
to be pestered with your insipid jests ? For my part, I am so
weary of the game, that I would desist immediately, if he was
not so great a loser." Nothing is more dreaded by a losing
gamester, than such a threat ; and the Count, in a softened
tone, told the Chevalier that Mr. Matta might say what he
pleased, if he did not offend him ; that, as to himself, it did
not give him the smallest uneasiness.
The Chevaher de Grammont gave the Count far better

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 31
treatment than he himseK had experienced from the Swiss at
Lyons ; for he played upon credit as long as he pleased ; which
Cameran took so kindly, that he lost fifteen hundred pistoles,
and paid them the next morning. As for Matta, he was se
verely reprimanded for the intemperance of his tongue. AU
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 mischief.
This adventure having recruited their finances, fortune
favoured them the remainder of the campaign, and the Che
vaher de Grammont, to prove that he had only seized upon
the Count's effects by way of reprisal, and to indemnify him
seK 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 aU occasions. He found out the dis
tressed, in order to relieve them ; officers who had lost their
equipage in the war, or their money at play ; soldiers who
were disabled in the trenches ; in short, every one felt the
influence of his benevolence : but his manner of conferring a
favour exceeded even the favour itseK.
Every man possessed of such amiable qualities must meet
with success in aU 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, bis first care was
to make restitution, by desiring Cameran to go his halves in
aU parties where the odds were in his favour.
An inexhaustible fund of vivacity and good humour gave
a certain ah- of novelty to whatever he either said or did. I
know not on what occasion it was that Monsieur de Turenne.

32 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
towards the end of the siege, commanded a separate body.
The Chevaher de Grammont went to visit him at his new
quarters, where he found fifteen or twenty officers. M de
Turenne was naturaUy fond of merriment, and the Chevalier's
presence was sure to inspire it. He was much pleased with
this visit, and, by way of acknowledgment, would have en
gaged him to play. The Chevaher de Grammont, in returning
him thanks, said, that he had learned from his tutor, that
when a man went to see his friends, it was neither prudent to
leave his own money behind him, nor civil to. carry off theirs.
" Truly," said Monsieur de Turenne, " you wiU find neither
deep play nor much money among us ; but, that it may not be
said that we suffered you to depart without playing, let us
stake every one a horse."
The Chevaher de Grammont agreed. Fortune, who had
fbUowed 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 countenances disconcerted at
the loss, " Gentlemen," said he, " I should be sorry to see you
return on foot from your general's quarters ; it will be enough
for me K you send me your horses to-morrow, except one,
which I give for the cards."
The valet-de-chambre thought he was bantering. " I speak
seriously," said the Chevaher, " I give you a horse for the cards ;
and, what is more, take whichever you please, except my own."
"Truly," said Monsieur de Turenne, " I am vastly pleased with
the novelty of the thing ; for I don't beheve that a horse was
ever before given for the cards."
Trino surrendered at last. The Baron de BatteviUe * who
* This officer appears to have been the same person who was after
wards ambassador from Spain to the court of Great Britain, where in

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.

33

had defended it vahantly, and for a long time, obtained a
capitulation worthy of such a resistance. I do not know whether
the Chevaher de Grammont had any share in the capture of
this place ; but I know very weU, 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 shaU see in the sequel of these
memoirs.

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 cf
France compelled its rival of Spain to submit to the mortifying circum
stance of acknowledging the French superiority. To commemorate this
important victory, Louis XIV. caused a medal to be struck, repre
senting the Spanish ambassador, the Marquis de Fuente, making the de
claration to that king, "No concurrer con los ambassadores des de
Francia," with this inscription, " Jus prsecedeDdi assertcm," and urder
it, "Hispaniorum excusatio coram xxxlegatis principum, 1662." A very
curious account of the fray occasioned by this dispute, drawn up by
Evelyn, is to be seen in that gentleman's article in the Biographia Britan-
nica.

LOUISE DK QUEROUAILLF., DUCHESS OF PORTSMOUTH.

CHAPTER FOURTH.
HIS ARRIVAL AT THE COURT OF TURIN, AND HOW HE
SPENT HIS TIME THERE.

1LITARY glory is at most but one half of the
accomplishments which distinguish heroes. Love
must give the finishing stroke, and adorn their
character by the difficulties they encounter, the
temerity of their enterprises, 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 opinion, 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 the husbands of Turin. As the
37

38 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
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, to break lances, and to
carry off fair damsels behind them on horseback, without
saying a single word to them ; whereas our heroes were
adepts at cards and dice, of which the others were totaUy
ignorant. They went to Turin, met with an agreeable reception, and
were greatly distinguished at court. Could it be otherwise ?
They were young and handsome ; they had wit at command,
and spent their money liberally. In what country will not a
man succeed, possessing such advantages ? As Turin was at
that time the seat of gallantry 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 courteous 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., ren
dered 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 de
generated. The Count de Tanes was her prime minister. It was not

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 39
difficult to conduct affairs of state during his administration.
No complaints were aUeged against him; and the princess,
satisfied with his conduct herseK, was, above ah, glad to have
her choice approved by her whole court, where people hved
nearly according to the manners and customs of ancient
chivalry. The ladies had each a professed lover, for fashion's sake,
besides volunteers, whose numbers were unlimited. The de
clared admirers wore their mistresses' hveries, their arms, and
sometimes even took their names. Their office was, never to
quit them in pubhc, and never to approach them in private ;
to be their squires upon aU occasions, and, in jousts and tour
naments, to adorn their lances, their housings, and their coats,
with the cyphers and the colours of their dulcineas.
Matta was far from being averse to gaUantry ; but would
have liked it more simple than as it was practised at Turin.
The ordinary forms would not have disgusted him ; but he found
here a sort of superstition in the ceremonies and worship of
love, which he thought very inconsistent : however, as he had
submitted his conduct in that matter to the direction of the
Chevaher de Grammont, he was obhged to foUow his example,
and to conform to the customs of the country.
They enlisted themselves at the same time in the service of
two beauties, whose former squires gave them up immediately
from motives of politeness. The Chevaher de Grammont
chose MademoiseUe de Saint-Germain, and told Matta to
offer his services to Madame de Senantes. Matta consented,
though he liked the other better ; but the Chevaher de Gram
mont 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 foUow his instructions in love, as he had done his
advice in play.

40 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain was in the bloom of youth ;
her eyes were smaU, but very bright and sparkling, and, hke
her hair, were black ; her complexion was hvely and clear,
though not fair : she had an agreeable mouth, two fine rows
of teeth, a neck as handsome as one could wish, and a most
delightful shape ; she had a particular elegance in her elbows,
which, however, she did not show to advantage ; her hands
were rather large and not very white ; her feet, though not of
the smallest, were weU shaped; she trusted to Providence,
and used no art to set' off those graces which she had received
from nature ; but, notwithstanding her neghgence in the em-
beUishment of her charms, there was something so hvely in
her person, that the Chevaher de Grammont was caught at
first sight ; her wit and humour corresponded with her other
quahties, being quite easy and perfectly charming ; she was
all mirth, aU hfe, aU complaisance and pohteness, and aU was
natural, and always the same without any variation.
The Marchioness de Senantes* was esteemed fair, and she
might have enjoyed, K she had pleased, the reputation of
having red hair, had she not rather chosen to conform to
the taste of the age in which she hved than to foUow that of
the ancients : she had aU the advantages 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
inquisitive 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
* Lord Orford says, the family of Senantes still remains in Piedmont,
and bears the title of Marquiu de Carailles.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 41
in chastity to spare. He piqued himseK upon being a Stoic,
and gloried in being slovenly and disgusting in honour of his
profession. In this he succeeded to admiration ; for he was
very fat, so that he perspired almost as much in winter as in
summer. Erudition and brutality seemed to be the most
conspicuous features of his character, 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 weU pleased to see attentions paid
to his wife, provided more were paid to him.
As soon as our adventurers had declared themselves, the
Chevaher de Grammont arrayed himself in green habiliments,
and dressed Matta in blue, these being the favourite colours
of their new mistresses. They entered immediately upon
duty : the Chevaher learned and practised all the ceremonies
of this species of gallantry, as if he always had been accus
tomed to them ; but Matta commonly forgot one haK, 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 Savoy gave the very next day an enter
tainment at La Venerie* where all the ladies were invited.
* 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 generally continuing there from the spring to December. It is
about a league from Turin : the road that leads to it is well paved, and
the greatest part of it planted with trees on each side : it is not always
in a direct line, but runs a little winding between 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, where
as formerly it had fine water-works and grottoes, 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 re-
jnains, being gone to ruin, partly by the ravages of the French, and

42 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
The Chevaher 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 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 herseK obliged to show some
degree of resentment, and pulling away her hand, which he
had pressed with still greater fervency upon this declaration,
she went up to the royal apartments without even looking at
her new lover. Matta, never thinking that he had offended her,
suffered her to go, and went in search of some company to sup
with him : nothing was more easy for a man of his disposition ;
he soon found what he wanted, sat a long time at table to
refresh himself after the fatigues of love, and went to bed
completely satisfied that he had perlormed his part to perfec
tion. During all this time the Chevaher de Grammont acquitted
himseK towards Mademoiselle de Saint Germain with univer
sal applause ; and without remitting his assiduities, he found
means to shine, as they went along, in the relation of a
thousand entertaining anecdotes, which he introduced in the
general conversation. Her Royal Highness heard them with
pleasure, and the sohtary Senantes likewise attended to them.
He perceived 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

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,"

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 43
know what he would have done with me if I had been oblig
ing enough to hsten 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 Chevaher could not forbear laughing at it : he told her
Matta was rather too unceremonious, but yet she would like
him better as their intimacy more improved, and for her con
solation he assured her that he would have spoken in the
same manner to her Royal Highness herseK; 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 bis supper companions in the preceding
evening. At his return he took a brace of partridges 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 partridges, and desired him to
present them to his mistress from him.
The Marchioness was at her toilet, and was decorating her
head with aU the grace she could devise to captivate Matta,
at the moment he was denied admittance : she knew nothing
of the matter ; but her husband knew every particular. He
had taken it in dudgeon that the first visit was not paid to
him, and as he was resolved that it should not be paid to his
wffe, 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
a^ain He went to court without ever changing his clothes,
or in the least considering he ought not to appear there with
out his lady's colours. He found her becomingly dressed;
her eyes appeared to him more than usually sparkling, and hex

44 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
whole person altogether divine. He began from that day to
be much pleased with himseK for his complaisance to the
Chevaher de Grammont ; however, he could not help remark
ing that she looked but coldly upon him. This appeared to
him a very extraordinary return for his services, and, imagin
ing that she was unmindful of her weighty obligations to him,
he entered into conversation with her, and severely repri
manded her for having sent back his partridges with so much
indifference. She did not understand what he meant ; and highly offended
that he did not apologize, after the reprimand which she con
cluded him to have received, told him that he certainly had
met with ladies of very complying dispositions in his travels
as he seemed to give to himself airs that she was by no means
accustomed to endure. Matta desired to know wherein he
could be said to have given himself any. " Wherein ?" said
she : " the second day that you honoured me with your atten
tions, you treated me as if I had been your humble servant
for a thousand years ; the first time that I gave you my hand
you squeezed it as violently as you were able. After this
commencement of your courtship, I got into my coach, and
you mounted your horse ; but instead of riding by the side of
the coach, as any reasonable gaUant would have done, no
sooner did a hare start from her form, than you immediately
galloped fuU speed after her; having regaled yourself, durin<r
the promenade, by taking snuff, without ever deigning to
bestow a thought on me, the only proof you gave me, on your
return, that you recoUected me, was by sohciting me to sur
render my reputation in terms pohte enough, but very explicit
And now you talk to me of having been shooting of partridges
and of some visit or other, which, I suppose, you have bin
dreaming of, as weU as of aU the rest."

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 45
The Chevaher de Grammont now advanced, to the inter
ruption of this whimsical clialogue. Matta was rebuked for
his forwardness, and his friend took abundant pains to con
vince him that his conduct bordered more upon insolence than
familiarity. Matta endeavoured to exculpate himself, but suc
ceeded ill His mistress took compassion upon him, and con
sented to admit his excuses, for the manner, rather than his
repentance for the fact, and declared that it was the intention
alone which could either justify or condemn, in such cases ;
that it was very easy to pardon those transgressions which
arise from excess of tenderness, but not such as proceeded from
too gTeat a presumption of success. Matta swore that he only
squeezed her hand from the violence of his passion, and that
he had been driven, by necessity, to ask her to reheve it ; that
he was yet a novice in the arts of solicitation ; that he could
not possibly think her more worthy of his affection, after a
month's service, than at the present moment ; and that he
entreated her to cast away an occasional thought upon him
when her leisure admitted. The Marchioness was not offended,
she saw very weU that she must require an implicit conformity
to the estabhshed rule of decorum, when she had to deal with
such a character ; and the Chevaher de Grammont, after this
sort of reconciliation, went to look after his own affair with
MademoiseUe de St. Germain.
Hia 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 favour upon him, than this
conquest, appearing to him to be more easy than the other, he
thought it was prudent to take advantage of it, for fear of
losing the opportunity, and that he might not have spent all
his time to no purpose, in case he should prove unsuccessful
with the httle St. Germain.

46 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
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, repri
manded him for presuming to appear at court in his morning
suit, and without his mistress's badge ; for not having had the
wit or prudence to pay his first visit to the Marquis de Senan
tes, instead of consuming his time, to no purpose, in inquiries
for the lady ; and, to conclude, he asked him what the devil
he meant by presenting her with a brace of miserable red par
tridges. " And why not ?" said Matta : " ought they to have
been blue, too, to match the cockade and sword-knots you
made me wear the other day ? Plague not me with your non
sensical whimsies : my hfe on tt, in one fortnight your equal
in foppery and foUy wiU not be found throughout the confines
of Turin ; but, to reply to your questions, I did not caU 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 shaU 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, pista
chios, 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 wiU swear yourseK have made
upon her : happy in practising the ceremonials of gaUantry,
you have no ambition for the essentials. Very weU : every
one has a particular way of acting, as weU as a particular
(aste: your's is to trifle in love; and, provided you can make
MademoiseUe de St. Germain laugh, you are satisfied : as for
my part, I am persuaded, that women here are made of the
same materials as in other places ; and I do not think that
they can be mightily offended, K one sometimes leaves off

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 4J
trifling, to come to the point : however, K the Marchioness is
not of this way of thinking, she may e'en provide herseK else
where ; for I can assure her, that I shah not long act the part
of her squire."
This was an unnecessary menace ; for the Marchioness in
reality hked him very well, was nearly of the same way of
thinking herseK, and wished for nothing more than to put his
gaUantry to the test. But Matta proceeded upon a wrong
plan; he had conceived such an aversion for her husband,
that he could not prevail upon himself to make the smaUest
advance towards his good graces. He was given to understand
that he ought to begin by endeavouring to luU the dragon to
sleep, before he could gain possession of the treasure ; but this
was aU to no purpose, though, at the same time, he could
never see his mistress but in public. This made him impatient,
and as he was lamenting his iU-fortune to her one day : "Have
the goodness, madam," said he, " to let me know where you
live : there is never a day that I do not caU upon you, at least,
three or four times, without ever being blessed with a sight of
you." " I generaUy sleep at home," rephed she, laughing ;
" but I must teU you, that you wiU 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 teU 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
humour is fantastical, and his manners not of the pleasing
cast ; but there is nothing so savage and inhuman, which a
httle care, attention, and complaisance may not tame into
docility. I must repeat to you some verses upon the subject :
I have got them by heart, because they contain a httle advice,
which you may accommodate, K you please, to your own
case."

48 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
RONDEAU.
Keep in mind these maxims rare,
You who hope to win the fair ;
Who are, or would esteemed be,
The quintessence of gallantry.
That fopp'ry, grinning, and grimace,
And fertile store of common-place ;
That oaths as false as dicers swear,
And ivVy teeth, and scented hair ;
That trinkets, and the pride of dress,
Can only give your scheme success. Keep in mind.
Has thy charmer e'er an aunt i
Then learn the rules of woman's cant,
And forge a tale, and swear you read it,
Such as, save woman, none would credit :
Win o'er her confidante and pages
By gold, for this a golden age is ;
And' should it be her wayward fate,
To be encumbered with a mate,
A dull, old dotard should he be,
That dulness claims thy courtesy. Keep in mind.
" Truly," said Matta, " the song may say what it pleases,
but I cannot put it in practice : your husband is far too exqui
site a monster for me. Why, what a plaguey odd ceremony
do you require of us in this country, K we cannot pay our com
pliments to the wKe without 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, K 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

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 49
an objection : from this instant she resoived to have done with
him. The Chevaher de Grammont had taken leave of his mistress
nearly at the same time : the ardour of his pursuit was extin
guished. It was not that MademoiseUe de Saint Germain was
less worthy than hitherto of his attentions : on the contrary her
attractions visibly increased : she retired to her pillow with a
thousanl charms, and ever rose from it with additional beauty :
the phrase of increasing in beauty as she increased in years
seemed to have been purposely made for her. The Chevaher
could not deny these truths, but yet he could not find his account
in them : a httle less merit, with a httle less discretion, would
have been more agreeable. He perceived that she attended
to hfm 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 proceed any farther. He had exhausted
every species of address upon her, and aU to no purpose : her
attendant was gained : her family, charmed with the music of
his conversation and his great attention, were never happy
without him : in short, he had reduced to practice the advice
contained in the Marchioness's song, and everything conspired
to dehver the httle Saint Germain into his hands, if the little
Saint Germain had herseK been willing : but alas ! she was
not inclined. It was in vain he told her the favour 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 unremit
ting tenderness, unwearied attachment, and inviolable secrecy,
would prove more worthy of them than himseK. 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 different than

50 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
the passionate fondness of a lover, always tender, always affec
tionate, yet always respectful, and the careless ^difference of
a husband. MademoiseUe 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 generaUy the custom in her
country to marry, she thought it was right to conform to it,
without entering into the knowledge of those distinctions, and
those marveUous particulars, which she did not very weU un
derstand, 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 enter
taining to her, nor could be serviceable to him. Though no
one was ever more facetious than MademoiseUe de Saint Ger
main, she yet knew how to assume a very serious ah, when
ever occasion required it. The Chevaher de Grammont soon
saw that she was in earnest ; 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 Senantes.
He found this lady much disgusted at Matta's want of com
plaisance; and his seeming contempt for her erased every
favourable impression which she had once entertained for him.
While she was in this humour, the Chevaher told her that
her resentment was just ; he exaggerated the loss which his
friend had sustained: he told her that her charms were a thou
sand times superior to those of the little Saint Germain, and
requested that favour for himseK which his friend did not
deserve. He was soon favourably 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

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 51
other his friend, which was not very (hfficult : Matta was not
at aU suspicious : and the stupid Senantes, towards whom the
Chevaher 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 Chevaher was with the
Marchioness, her husband immediately joined them out of polite
ness ; and on no account would have left them alone together,
for fear they should grow weary of each other without him.
Matta, who ah this time was entirely ignorant that he was
disgraced, continued to serve his mistress in his own way.
She had agreed with the Chevaher de Grammont, that to ah
appearance everything should be carried on as before; so that
the court always believed that the Marchioness only thought
of Matta, and that the Chevaher was entirely devoted to
MademoiseUe de Saint Germain.
There were very frequently httle lotteries for trinkets : the
Chevaher 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 stiU more indiscreetly
accepted : the httle Saint Germain very seldom received any
thing. There are meddling whisperers everywhere : remarks
were made upon these proceedings ; and the same person that
made them communicated them likewise to MademoiseUe de
Saint Germain. She pretended to laugh, but in reality was
piqued. It is a maxim religiously observed by the fair sex, to
envy each other those indulgences which themselves refuse.
She took this very iU of the Marchioness. On the other hand,
Matta was asked K he was not old enough to make his own pre
sents himseK to the Marchioness de Senantes, without sending
them by the Chevaher de Grammont. This roused him; for of
lumself, he would never have perceived it : his suspicions, how-

52 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
ever, were but shght, and he was willing to have them removed.
"I must confess," said he to the Chevaher de Grammont,
" that they make love here quite in a new style; a man serves
here without reward : he addresses himseK to the husband
when he is in love with the wKe, and makes presents to an
other man's mistress, to get into the good graces of his own.
The Marchioness is much obliged to you for  " " It is you
who are obliged," rephed the Chevaher, " since this was done
on your account : I was ashamed to find you had never yet
thought of presenting her with any trifling token of your
attention : do you know that the people of this court have
such extraordinary notions, as to think that it is rather owing
to inadvertency that you never yet have had the spirit to
make your mistress the smaUest present ? For shame ! how
ridiculous it is, that you can never think for yourseK ?"
Matta took this rebuke, without making any answer, being
persuaded that he had in some measure deserved it : besides,
he was neither sufficiently jealous, nor sufficiently amorous,
to think any more of it ; however, as it was necessary for the
Chevalier's affairs that Matta should be acquainted with the
Marquis de Senantes, he plagued him so much about it, that at
last he comphed. 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
band, being gratified with a piece of civility which he had
long expected, determined, that very evening, to give them a
supper at a httle country seat of his, on the banks of the
river, very near the city.
The Chevaher dc 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

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 53
appointed ; but he found only Matta. The Chevalier had
engaged himself to play, on purpose that they might go with
out him: Matta was for waiting for him, so great was his
fear of being left alone with the Marquis ; but the Chevaher
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 obhged to set out with the man who, of aU the world,
was most offensive to him. It was not the Chevaher's inten
tion quickly to extricate Matta out of this embarrassment :
he no sooner knew that they were gone, than he waited on
the Marchioness, under pretence of still finding her husband,
that they might aU go together to supper.
The plot was in a fair way ; and as the Marchioness was of
opinion that Matta's indifference merited no better treatment
from her, she made no scruple of acting her part in it : she
therefore waited for the Chevaher de Grammont with inten
tions so much the more favourable, 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 sup
pose that this first opportunity would not have been lost, if
MademoiseUe de Saint Germain had not unexpectedly come
in, almost at the same time with the Chevaher.
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 that her
company was disagreeable, and being determined that they
should not be out of humour with her for nothing, after having
passed above a long half hour in diverting herseK 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 aU that part of her dress which ladies lay
aside, when in a familiar manner they intend to pass the day

54 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
anywhere. The Chevalier de Grammont cursed her in hi3
heart, while she continued to torment him for being in such
ill-humour 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 : MademoiseUe
de Saint Germain told her that she would have the honour to
accompany her, if it would not be disagreeable : she took not
the smallest notice of her offer ; and the Chevalier, finding
that it would be entirely useless to prolong his visit at that
time, retired with a good grace.
As soon as he had left the house, he sent one of his scouts
to desire the Marquis to sit down to table with his company
without waiting for him, because the game might not perhaps
be finished as soon as he expected, but that he woidd be with
him before supper was over. Having despatched this messen
ger, 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 to
gether. He found there was no chance of seeing her a^ain
that day, everything falling out contrary to his wishes ; he
was forced therefore to leave the Marchioness, and go in quest
of the Marquis.
While these things were going on in the city, Matta was
not much diverted in the country: as he was prejudiced
against the Marquis, aU that he said displeased him: he
cursed the Chevalier heartily for the tete-a-tete which he had
procured him ; and he was upon the point of going away,
yirhen he found that he was to sit down to supper without
any other company.
However, as his host was very choice in his entertainments
and had the best wine and the best cook in aU Piedmont, the

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 55
sight of the first course appeased him ; and eating most vo
raciously, without paying any attention to the Marquis, he
flattered himseK that the supper would end without any dis
pute ; but he was mistaken.
When the Chevaher de Grammont was at first endeavouring
to bring about an intercourse between the Marquis and Matta,
he had given a very advantageous character of the letter, to
make the former more desirous of his acquaintance ; and in
the display of a thousand other accomplishments, knowing
what an infatuation the Marquis had for the very name of
erudition, he assured him that Matta was one of the most
learned men in Europe.
The Marquis, therefore, from the moment they sat down to
supper, had expected some stroke of learning from Matta, to
bring his own into play ; but he was much out in his reckon
ing ; no one had read less, no one thought less, and no one
had ever spoken so httle at an entertainment as he had done :
as he did not wish to enter into conversation, 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 gaUantry; and
therefore, to begin the subject, he accosted him in this
manner :
" Since you are my wffe's gaUant  " " I !" said Matta. who
wished to carry it discreetly : " those who told you so, told a
damned lie." "Zounds, sir," said the Marquis, "you speak
in a tone which does not at all become you ; for I would have
you to know, notwithstanding your contemptuous airs, that
the Marchioness de Senantes is perhaps as worthy of your
attentions as any of your French ladies, and that I have

56 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
known some greatly your superiors, who have thought it an
honour to serve her." " Very weU," said Matta, " I think she
is very deserving, and since you insist upon it, I am her ser
vant and gaUant, to oblige you."
"You think, perhaps," continued the other, "that the same
custom prevails in this country as in your own, and that the
ladies have lovers, with no other intentions than to grant
them favours: undeceive yourseK K you please, and know,
likewise, that even K such events were frequent in this court,
I should not be at aU uneasy." " Nothing can be more civil,"
said Matta; "but wherefore would you not?" "I wiU teU
you why," replied he : "I am weU acquainted with the affec
tion my wKe entertains for me: I am acquainted with her
discretion towards aU 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 honour to
drink it in a bumper." The Marquis pledged him ; but seeing
that the conversation dropped on their ceasing to drink, after
two or three healths, he wished to make a second attempt,
and attack Matta on his strong side, that is to say, on his
learning. He desired him, therefore, to teU him, at what time he
thought the AUobroges came to settle in Piedmont. Matta,
who wished him and his AUobroges at the devU, said, that
it must be in the time of the civh wars. "I doubt that,"
said the other. "Just as you hke," said Matta. "Under
what consulate ?" rephed the Marquis : " Under that of the
League," said Matta, '* when the Guises brought the Lans
quenets into France ; but what the devil does that signify ?"
The Marquis was tolerably warm, and naturaUy savage, so
that God knows how the conversation would have ended, if

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 57
the Chevaher de Grammont had not unexpectedly come in to
to appease them. It was some time before he could find out
what their debate was ; for the one had forgotten the ques
tions, and the other the answers, which had disobliged him, in
order to reproach the Chevaher 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 aU with patience, and condemned himseK more than they
desired: this appeased them; and the entertainment ended
with greater tranquillity than it had begun. The conversa
tion was again reduced to order ; but he could not enliven it
as he usually did. He was in very iU humour, and as he
pressed them every minute to rise from 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 am
buscade. This piece of history wa3 beyond the comprehension of the
Marquis, and being afraid that Matta might explain it, the
Chevaher changed the discourse, and was for rising from
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 pro
digious liking.
The Duchess, who knew the character of the Marquis, was
charmed with the account which the Chevaher de Grammont
gave her of the entertainment and conversation : she sent for
Matta to know the truth of it from himself : he confessed,
that before the AUobroges were mentioned the Marquis was

5S MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
for quarrelling with him, because he was not in love with his
wKe. Their acquaintance having begun in this manner, aU the
esteem which the Marquis had formerly expressed for the
Chevaher seemed now directed towards Matta : he went every
day to pay Matta a visit, and Matta was every day with his
wKe. This did not at aU suit the Chevaher: he repented
of his having chid Matta, whose assiduity now interrupted
aU his schemes; and the Marchioness was still more em
barrassed. Whatever wit a man may have, it wiU never please
where his company is disliked; and she repented that she
had been formerly guilty of some trifling advances towards
him Matta began to find charms in her person, and might have
found the same in her conversation, K she had been inclined
to display them ; but it is impossible to be in good humour
with persons who thwart our designs. While his passion in
creased, the Chevaher de Grammont was solely occupied in
endeavouring to find out some method, by which he might
accomplish his intrigue ; and this was the stratagem which he
put in execution to clear the coast, by removing, at one and
the same time, both the lover and the husband.
He told Matta, that they ought to invite the Marquis to
supper at their lodgings, and he would take upon himself to
provide everything proper for the occasion. Matta desired to
know K 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 aU Europe. The Chevalier de Grammont did
not entertain any such thought, being persuaded that it would
be impossible to take advantage of any such opportunity, in
whatever manner he might take his measures ; and that they

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 59
would seek for him in every corner of the city rather than
aUow him the least repose : his whole attention was therefore
employed in rendering the entertainment agreeable, in finding
out means of prolonging it, in order ultimately to kindle some
dispute between the Marquis and Matta. For this purpose
he put himseK in the best humour in the world, and the wine
produced the same effect on the rest of the company.
The Chevaher de Grammont expressed his concern, that he
had not been able to give the Marquis a httle concert, as he
had intended in the morning ; for the musicians had been all
pre-engaged. Upon this the Marquis undertook to have them
at his country-house the foUowing evening, and invited the
same company to sup with him there. Matta asked what the
devil they wanted with music, and maintained that it was of
no use on such occasions but for women who had something
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 aU 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
weU as to do honour to the entertainment, toasted a great
many healths : Matta was more ready to hsten to his argu
ments on this topic than in a dispute; but the Chevalier,
perceiving that a httle would irritate them, desired nothing
more earnestly than to see them engaged in some new con
troversy. It was in vain that he had from time to time
started some subject of discourse with this intention; but
having lucidly thought of asking what was his lady's maiden
name, Senantes, who was a great genealogist, as aU fools are
who have good memories, immediately began by tracing out
her family, by an endless confused string of lineage. The
Chevaher seemed to hsten to him with great attention ; and

60 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
perceiving that Matta was almost out of patience, he desired
him to attend to what the Marquis was saying, for that
nothing could be more entertaining. " AU this may be very
true," said Matta ; " but for my part, I must confess, if I were
married, I should rather choose to inform myseK 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
hne to line, as far as Yolande de Senantes: after this he
offered to prove, in less than half an hour, that the Gram-
monts came originally from Spain. " Very weU," said Matta,
" and pray what does it sigmfy to us from whence the Gram-
monts are descended? Do not you know, sir, that it is
better to know nothing at aU, than to know too much ?"
The Marquis maintained the contrary with great warmth,
and was preparing a formal argument to prove that an igno
rant man is a fool ; but the Chevaher de Grammont, who was
thoroughly acquainted with Matta saw very clearly that he
would send the logician to the devil before he should arrive
at the conclusion of his syUogism : for which reason, inter
posing as soon as they began to raise their voices, he told
them it was ridiculous to quarrel about an affair in itseK so
trivial, and treated the matter in a serious light, that it might
make the greater impression. Thus supper terminated peace
ably, owing to the care he took to suppress aU disputes, and
to substitute plenty of wine in their stead.
The next day Matta went to the chase, the Chevaher de
Grammont to the bagnio, and the Marquis to his country
house. While the latter was making the necessary prepara
tions for his guests, not forgetting the music, and Matta
pursuing his game to get an appetite, the Chevaher was
meditating on the execution of his project.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 61
As soon as he had regulated his plan of operations in his
own mind, he privately sent anonymous intelligence 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.
Madame Royale, alarmed at this advice, immediately sent
for the Chevaher de Grammont : he appeared surprised when
her highness mentioned the affair : he confessed, indeed, that
some high words had passed between them, but that he did
not believe either of them would have remembered them the
next day. He said that K no mischief had yet taken plape,
the best way would be to secure them both until the morning,
and that K they could be found, he would undertake to recon
cile them, and to obhterate aU 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 cer
tainly he was, and there they found him ; the officer put him
under an arrest, without assigning any reason for so doing,
and left him in very great surprise.
Immediately upon Matta's return from hunting, her Royal
Highness sent the same officer to desire him to give her his
word that he would not stir out that evening. This compli
ment 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 obhge him to stay at home, in a situation
hke the present ; but he had given his word, and not knowing
to what this might tend, his only resource was to send for his
friend ; but bis friend did not come to him until his return
from the country. He had there found the Marquis in the
midst of his fiddlers, and very much vexed to find himseK a

62 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
prisoner in his own house on account of Matta, whom he was
waiting for in order to feast him : he complained of him bit
terly to the Chevaher de Grammont : he said that he did not
beheve that he had offended him ; but that, since he was very
desirous of a quarrel, he desired the Chevaher to acquaint him,
if he felt the least displeasure on the present occasion, he
should, on the very first opportunity, receive what is caUed
satisfaction. The Chevaher de Grammont assured him that
no such thought had ever entered the mind of Matta ; that on
the contrary, he knew that he very greatly esteemed him ;
that aU this could alone arise from the extreme tenderness of
his lady, who, being alarmed upon the report of the servants
who waited at table, must have gone to her Royal Highness,
in order to prevent any unpleasant consequences; that he
thought this the more probable, as he had often told the Mar
chioness, when speaking of Matta, that he was the best
swordsman in France ; for, in truth, the poor gentleman had
never fought without having the misfortune of killing his man.
The Marquis, being a httle pacified, said he was very much
obhged to him, that he would severely chide his wKe for her
unseasonable tenderness, and that he was extremely desirous
of again enjoying the pleasure of his dear friend Matta's com
pany. The Chevaher de Grammont assured him that he would
use aU his endeavours for that purpose, and at the same time
gave strict charge to his guard not to let him escape without
orders from the Court, as he seemed fully bent upon fighting,
and they would be responsible for him : there was no occasion
to say more to have him strictly watched, though there was
no necessity for it.
One being thus safely lodged, his next step was to secure
the other : he returned immediately to town : and as soon as

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 63
Matta saw him, " What the devil," said he, " is the meaning
of this farce which I am obhged to act ? for my part, I cannot
understand the foohsh customs of this country ; how comes it
that they make me a prisoner upon my parole ?" " How comes
it?" said the Chevaher de Grammont, "it is because you your-
seK are far more unaccountable than aU their customs ; you
cannot help disputing with a peevish feUow, whom you ought
only to laugh at ; some officious footman has no doubt been
talking of your last night's dispute ; you were seen to go out
of town in the morning, and the Marquis soon after ; was not
this sufficient to make her Royal Highness think herseK obhged
to take these precautions ? The Marquis is in custody ; they
have only required your paroie ; so far, therefore, from taking
the affair in the sense you do, I should send very humbly to
thank her Highness for the kindness she has manifested to
wards you in putting you under arrest, since it is only on
your account that she interests herseK in the affair. , I shaU
take a walk to the palace, where I wiU endeavour to unravel
this mystery ; in the mean time, as there is but httle proba
bility that the matter should be settled this evening, you
would do weU to order supper ; for I shaU come back to you
immediately." Matta charged him not to fail to express to her Royal High
ness the grateful sense he had of her favour, though in truth
he as httle feared the Marquis as he loved him ; and it is im
possible to express the degree of his fortitude in stronger
terms. The Chevaher de Grammont returned in about haK an hour,
with two or three gentlemen whom Matta had got acquainted
with at the chase, and who, upon the report of the quarrel,
waited upon him, and each offered him separately his services
against the unassisted and pacific Marquis. Matta having re-

64 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
turned them his thanks, insisted upon their staying supper,
and put on his robe de chambre.
As soon as the Chevaher de Grammont perceived that every
thing coincided with his wishes, and that towards the end of
the entertainment the toasts went merrily round, he knew he
was sure of his man tiU next day : then taking him aside with
the permission of the company, and making use of a false
confidence in order to disguise a real treachery, he acquainted
him, after having sworn him several times to secrecy, that he
had at last prevailed upon the httle Saint Germain to grant
him an interview that night ; for which reason he would take
his leave, under pretence of going to play at Court ; he there
fore desired hrm fuUy to satisfy the company that he would
not have left them on any other account, as the Piedmontese
are naturaUy mistrustful. Matta promised he would manage
this point with discretion ; that he would make an apology
for him, and that there was no occasion for his personaUy
taking leave : then, after congratulating him upon the happy
posture of his affairs, he sent him away with aU the expedition
and secrecy imaginable ; so great was bis fear lest his friend
should lose the present opportunity.
Matta then returned to the company, much pleased with
the confidence which had been placed in him, and with the
share he had in the success of this adventure. He put him
seK into the best humour imaginable in order to divert the
attention of his guests ; he severely satirised those, whose rage
for gaming induced them to sacrifice to it every other consi
deration ; he loudly ridiculed the foUy of the Chevaher upon
this article, and secretly laughed at the credulity of the Pied
montese, whom he had deceived with so much ingenuity.
It was late at night before the company broke up, and
Matta went to bed, very weU satisfied with what he had done

ELIZABETH BAGOT, COUNTESS OF FALMOUTH.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 65
for his friend ; and, K we may credit appearances, this friend
enjoyed the fruit of his perfidy. The amorous Marchioness
received him like one who wished to enhance the value of the
favour she bestowed ; her charms were far from being neg
lected ; and K there are any circumstances in which we may
detest the traitor whhe we profit by the treason, this was not
one of them ; and however successful the Chevaher de Gram
mont was in his intrigues, it was not owing to him that the
contrary was not beheved ; but, be that as it may, being con
vinced that in love whatever is gained by address is gained
fairly, it does not appear that he ever showed the smaUest
degree of repentance for this trick. But it is now time for us
to take him from the court of Savoy, to see him shine in that
of France.

CHAPTER FIFTH.
HE RETURN'S TO THE COURT OF FRANCE. — HIS ADVENTURES
AT THE SIEGE OF ARRAS. — HIS REPLY TO CARDINAL
1TAZARIN. — HE IS BANISHED THE COURT.

HE Chevaher de Grammont, upon his return to
France, sustained, with the greatest success, the
reputation he had acquired abroad : alert in
play, active and vigilant in love; sometimes
successful, and always feared, in his intrigues; in war alike
prepared for the events of good or iU fortune ; possessing an
inexhaustible fund of pleasantry in the former, and fuU of
expedients and dexterity in the latter.
69

70 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Zealously attached to the Prince de Conde * from inclina
tion, he was a witness, and, if we may be allowed to say it,
his companion, in the glory he had acquired at the celebrated
battles of Lens, Norlinguen, and Fribourg; and the detaUs
he so frequently gave of them were far from diminishing
their lustre.
So long as he had only some scruples of conscience, and a
thousand interests to sacrifice, he quitted aU to foUow a man,
whom strong motives and resentments, which in some manner
appeared excusable, had withdrawn from the paths of recti
tude : he adhered to him in his first disgrace, with a constancy
of which there are few examples ; but he could not submit to
the injuries which he afterwards received, and which such an
* Louis of Bourbon, Duke d'Enghien, afterwards, by the death of his
father in 1656, Prince de Cond£. Of this great man Cardinal de Eetz
Bays, " He was born a general, which never happened but to Caesar, to
Spinola, and to himself. He has equalled the first : he has surpassed
the second. Intrepidity is one of the least shining strokes in his char
acter. Nature had formed him with a mind as great as his courage.
Fortune, in setting him out in a time of wars, has given this last a
full extent to work in : his binh, or rather his education, in a family
devoted and enslaved to the court, has kept the first within too straight
bounds. He was not taught time enough the great and general maxims
which alone are able to form men to think always consistently. He
never had time to learn them of himself, because he was prevented
from his youth, by the great affairs that fell unexpectedly to his share,
and by the continual success he met with. This defect in him was the
cause, that with the soul in the world the least inclined to evil, he has
committed injuries ; that with the heart of an Alexander, he has, like
him, had his failings ; that with a wonderful understanding, he has
acted imprudently; that having all the qualities which the Duke
Erancis of Guise had, he has not served the state in some occasions so
well as he ought ; and that having likewise having all the qualities of
the Duke Henry of Guise, he ha3 not carried faction so far as he might.
He could not come up to the height of his merit ; which, though it be a
defect, must yet be owned to be very uncommon, and only to°be found
in persons of the greatest abilities."

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 71
inviolable attachment so httle merited. Therefore, without
fearing any reproach for a conduct which sufficiently justified
itseK, as he had formerly deviated from his duty by entering
into the service of the Prince de Conde\ 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 himseK, were immediately received into favour,
when they desired it ; for the queen,* stiU terrified at the
dangers into which the civil wars had plunged the State at
the commencement of her regency, endeavoured by lenient
measures to concihate the minds of the people. The pohcy of
the minister y was neither sanguinary nor revengeful : his
* Anne of Austria, daughter of Philip III. of Spain, widow of Louis
XIII., to whom she was married in 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 ttian dis
interestedness : she was more tied to persons by habit tban by affec
tion; she had more of insensibility than of cruelty; she had a better
memory for injuries than for benefits ; her intention towards piety was
greater than her piety ; she had in her more of obstinacy than of firm
ness ; and more incapacity than of all the rest which I mentioned
before.* Memoirs, vol. i., p. 247.
t Cardinal Mazarin, who, during a few of the latter years of his life,
governed France. He died at Vincennes the 9th of March 1661, aged
59 years, leaving as heir to his name and property the Marquis de la
Meilleray, who married his niece, and took the title of Duke of Maza
rin. On his death, Louis XTV. and the court appeared in mourning,
an honour not common, though Henry IV. had shewn it to the memory
of Gabrielle d'Estrees. Voltaire, who appears unwilling to ascribe much
ability to the cardinal, takes an opportunity, on occasion of his death, to
make the following observation. — "We cannot refrain from combatingthe
opinion, which supposes prodigious abilities, and a genius almost divine,

?2 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
favourite maxim was rather to appease the minds of the dis
contented by lenity, than to have recourse to violent measures ;
to be content with losing nothing by the war, without being
at the expense of gaining any advantage from the enemy ; to
suffer his character to be very severely handled, provided he
could amass much wealth, and to spin out the minority to the
greatest possible extent.
His avidity to heap up riches was not alone confined to the
thousand different means, with which he was furnished by his
authority, and the situation in which he was placed : his whole
pursuit was gain : he was naturaUy fond of gaming ; but he
only played to enrich himseK, and therefore, whenever he
found an opportunity, he cheated.
As he found the Chevaher de Grammont possessed a great
deal of wit, and a great deal of money, he was a man accord
ing to his wishes, and soon became one of his set. The Cheva
her soon perceived the artfulness and dishonesty of the Car
dinal, and thought it was aUowable in him to put in practice
those talents which he had received from nature, not only in
his own defence, but even to attack him whenever an oppor
tunity offered. This would certainly be the place to mention
these particulars ; but who can describe them with such ease
and elegance as may be expected by those who have heard his
own relation of them ? Vain is the attempt to endeavour to
transcribe these entertaining anecdotes : their spirit seems to
in those who have governed empires with some degree of success. It
is not a superior penetration that makes statesmen ; it is their charac
ter. All men, how inconsiderable soever their share of sense may be,
see their own interest nearly alike. A citizen of Bern or Amsterdam,
in this respect, is equal to Sejanus, Ximenes, Buckingham, Bichelieu, or
Mazarin ; but our conduct and our enterprises depend absolutely on
our natural dispositions, and our success depends upon fortune." Age
of Louis XIV.. chap. 5.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 73
evaporate upon paper ; and in whatever hght they are exposed
the delicacy of their colouring and their beauty is lost.
It is, then, enough to say, that upon aU occasions where ad
dress was reciprocally employed, the Chevaher gained the
advantage ; and that K he paid his court badly to the minis
ter, he had the consolation to find, that those who suffered
themselves to be cheated, in the end gained no great advan
tage from their complaisance ; for they always continued in
an abject submission, while the Chevalier de Grammont, on a
thousand different occasions, never put himseK under the least
restraint. Of which the foUowing is one instance :
The Spanish army, commanded by the Prince de Conde* and
the archduke * besieged Arras. The Court was advanced as
far as Peronne.f The enemy, by the capture of this place, would
have procured a reputation for then army of which they were
in great need ; as the French, for a considerable time past,
had evinced a superiority in every engagement.
The Prince supported a tottering party, as far as their usual
inactivity and irresolution permitted him ; but as in the events
of war it is necessary to act independently on some occasions,
which, K once suffered to escape, can never be retrieved ; for
want of this power it frequently happened that his great abili
ties were of no avail. The Spanish infantry had never re
covered itseK since the battle of Rocroy;J and he who had
ruined them by that victory, by fighting against them, was the
only man who now, by commanding their army, was capable
of repairing the mischief he had done them. But the jealousy
* Leopold, brother of the Emperor Ferdinand the III.
t A little but strong town, standing among marshes on the river
Somme, in Picardy.
X This famous battle was fought and won 19th May, 1643, five days
after the death of Louis XIIL

74 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
of the generals, and the distrust attendant upon their counsels,
tied up his hands.
Nevertheless, the siege of Arras* was vigorously carried on.
The Cardinal was very sensible how dishonourable it would
be to suffer this place to be taken under his nose, and almost
in sight of the king. On the other hand, it was very hazard
ous to attempt its rehef, the Prince de Conde being a man
who never neglected the smaUest precaution for the security
of his lines ; and K 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 weU 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 misfortune to be dreaded.
The Cardinal, whose genius was happily adapted to such
junctures, where deceitful negotiations could extricate him out
of difficulties, was filled with terror at the sight of irnminent
danger, or of a decisive event : he was of opinion to lay siege
* Voltaire observes, that it was the fortune of Turenne and Conde to
be always victorious when they fought at the head of the French, and
to be vanquished when they commanded the Spaniards. This was
Conde's fate before Arras, August 25, 1654, when he and the archduke
besieged that city. Turenne attacked them in their camp, and forced
their lines : the troops of the archduke were cut to pieces ; and Condd,
with two regiments of French and Lorrainers, alone sustained the efforts
of Turenne's army ; and, while the archduke was flying, he defeated
r the Marshal de Hoquincourt, repulsed the Marshal de la Ferte,
and retreated victoriously himself, by covering the retreat of the
vanquished Spaniards. The king of Spain, in his letter to him after
this engagement, had these words: " I have been informed that every.
thing was lost, and that you have recovered everything''

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 75
to some other place, the capture of which might prove an in
demnification for the loss of Arras ; but Monsieur de Turenne,
who was altogether of a different opinion from the Cardinal,
resolved to march towards the enemy, and did not acquaint
him with his intentions until he was upon his march. The
courier arrived in the midst of his distress, and redoubled
bis apprehensions and alarms ; but there was then no
remedy. 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 success. Though the general's
capacity, in some measure, afforded comfort to the Court, they
nevertheless were upon the eve of an event, which in one
way or other must terminate both their hopes and their fears :
while the rest of the courtiers were giving various opinions
concerning the issue, the Chevaher de Grammont determined
to be an eye-witness of it; a resolution which greatly sur
prised the court; for those who had seen as many actions
as he had, seemed to be exempted from such eagerness;
but it was in vain that his friends opposed his resolu
tions. The king was pleased with his intention ; and the queen
appeared no less satisfied. He assured her that he would
bring her good news ; and she promised to embrace him, K he
was as good as his word. The Cardinal made the same
promise : to the latter, however, he did not pay much atten
tion; yet he believed it sincere, because the keeping of it
would cost him nothing.
He set out in the dusk of the evening with Caseau, whom
Monsieur de Turenne had sent express to their majesties,

76 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
The DuKe of York,* and the Marquis d'Humieres,f com
manded under the Marshal : the latter was upon duty when
the Chevaher arrived, it being scarce dayhght. The Duke of
York did not at first recoUect him ; but the Marquis d'Hu-
mieres, running to him with open arms, " I thought," said he,
" K any man came from court to pay us a visit upon such an
occasion as this, it would be the Chevaher de Grammont.
WeU," continued he, " what are they doing at Peronne ?"
"They are in great consternation," replied the Chevaher.
"And what do they, think of us?" "They think," said he,
" that K you beat the Prince, you wiU do no more than your
duty ; K you are beaten, they wUl think you fools and mad
men, thus to have risked eveiything, without considering the
consequences." "Truly," said the Marquis, "you bring us
very comfortable new3. Will you now go to Monsieur de
Turenne's quarters, to acquaint him with it; or wiU you
choose rather to repose yourself in mine ? for you have been
riding post aU last night, and perhaps did not experience
much rest in the preceding." " Where have you heard that
the Chevaher de Grammont had ever any occasion for sleep ?"
rephed he: "Only order me a horse, that I may have the
honour 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,"
* Priorato, in his Memoirs of Cardinal Mazarin, mentions other
Englishmen besides the Duke of York being present ; as Lords Gerrard,
Barclay, and Jermyn. with others. Memoirs, 12mo, 1673, tome i.,
part 3, p. 365.
+ Louis de Crevans, Marechal of France. He died 1694. Voltaire
says of him, that he was the first who, at the siege of Arras, in 1658,
was served in silver in the trenches, and had ragouts and entremets
served up to his table.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 77
said the Chevaher de Grammont, " to advance as far as the
sentry which is posted on that eminence : I have some friends
and acquaintance in their army, whom I should wish to in
quire after: I hope the Duke of York wiU give me per
mission." At these words he advanced. The sentry, seeing
him come forward directly to his post, stood upon his guard :
the Chevaher stopped as soon as he was within shot of him.
The sentry answered the sign which was made to him, and
made another to the officer, who had begun to advance as
soon as he had seen the Chevaher come forward, and was
soon up with him ; but seeing the Chevaher de Grammont
alone, he made no difficulty to let him approach. He desired
leave of this officer to inquire after some relations he had in
their army, and at the same time asked K the Duke d'Arscot
was at the siege. " Sir," said he, " there he is, just alighted
under those trees, which you see on the left of our grand
guard: it is hardly a minute since he was here with the
Prince d'Aremberg, bis brother, the Baron de Limbec, and
Louvigny." " May I see them upon parole ?" said the Cheva
her. " Sir," said he, "if I were aUowed to quit my post, I
would do myseK the honour of accompanying you thither ;
but I wiU send to acquaint them, that the Chevaher de Gram
mont desires to speak to them :" and, after having despatched
one of his guard towards them, he returned. " Sir," said the
Chevaher de Grammont, " may I take the hberty to inquire
how I came to be known to you V " Is it possible," said the
other, "that the Chevaher de Grammont should forget La
Motte, who had the honour 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 BruxeUes,
when you taught the Duchess of Guise to dance the triolets :

78 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
and I am afraid your affairs are not in so flourishing a con
dition as they were the campaign after I had given you the
company you mention." They were talking in this manner,
when the Duke d'Arscot, foUowed by the gentlemen above
mentioned, came up on fuU gaUop. The Chevaher de Gram
mont was saluted by the whole company before he could say
a word. Soon after arrived an immense number of others of
his acquaintance, with many people, out of curiosity, on both
sides, who, seeing him upon the eminence, assembled together
with the greatest eagerness ; so that the two armies, without
design, without truce, and without fraud, were going to join
in conversation, K, by chance, Monsieur de Turenne had not
perceived it at a distance. The sight surprised him: he
hastened that way ; and the Marquis d'Humieres acquainted
him with the arrival of the Chevaher de Grammont, who
wished to speak to the sentry before he went to the head
quarters : he added, that he could not comprehend how the
devil he had managed to assemble both armies around him,
for it was hardly a minute since he had left him. " Truly,"
said Monsieur de Turenne, "he is a very extraordinary man ;
but it is only reasonable that he should let us now have
a httle of his company, since he has paid his first visit to the
enemy." At these words he despatched an aide-de-camp, to
recal the officers of his army, and to acquaint the Chevaher
de Grammont with his- impatience to see Mm.
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 sur
prised at it, when he heard that it was occasioned by the
arrival of the Chevaher de Grammont. He only gave Lussan
orders to recal the officers, and to desire the Chevalier to meet
him at the same place the next day; which the Chevaher

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 79
promised to do, provided Monsieur de Turenne should ap
prove of it, as he made no doubt he would.
His receptiou in the king's army was equaUy agreeable as
that which he had experienced from the enemy. Monsieur
de Turenne esteemed him no less for his frankness than for
the poignancy of his wit : he took it very kindly that he was
the only courtier who came to see him in a time so critical as
the present: the questions which he asked him about the
court were not so much for information, as to divert himself
with his manner of relating their different apprehensions and
alarms. The Chevaher de Grammont advised him to beat
the enemy, K he did not choose to be answerable for an en
terprise which he had undertaken without consulting the
Cardinal. Monsieur de Turenne promised him he would
exert himseK to the utmost to follow his advice, and assured
him, that K he succeeded, he would make the queen keep her
word with him ; and concluded with saying, that he was not
sorry the Prince de Conde" had expressed a desire to see him.
His measures were taken for an attack upon the lines: on
this subject he discoursed in private with the Chevaher de
Grammont, and concealed nothing from him except the time
of execution : but this was aU to no purpose ; for the Cheva
her had seen too much, not to judge, from his own know
ledge, and the observations he had made, that from the situa
tion of the army, the attack could be no longer deferred.
He set out the next day for his rendezvous, attended by a
trumpet, and found the Prince at the place which Monsieur
de Lussan had described to him the evening before. As soon
as he alighted : " Is it possible," said the Prince, embracing
him, " that this can be the Chevaher de Grammont, and that
I should see him in the contrary party ? " " It is you, my
lord, whom I see there," replied the Chevaher, " and I refer

80 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
it to yourseK, whether it was the fault of the Chevaher de
Grammont, or your own, that we now embrace different in
terests." " I must confess," said the Prince, " that K there
are some who have abandoned me hke base ungrateful
wretches, you have left me, as I left myself, like a man of
honour, who thinks himself in the right : but let us forget aU
cause of resentment, and teU me what was your motive for
coming here, you, whom I thought at Peronne with the
court." " Must I teU you ?" said he : " why, faith then, I
came to save your hfe. I know 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,
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 entertaining
subjects. The Prince asked him many questions concerning
the court, the ladies, play, and about his amours ; and return
ing insensibly to the present situation of affairs, the Chevaher
having inquhed after some officers of his acquaintance, who
had remained with him, the Prince told him that K he chose,
he might go to the lines, where he would have an opportunity
not only of seeing those whom he inquhed after, but hkewise
the disposition of the quarters and entrenchments. To this he
* Henry, Duke of Montmorency, who was taken prisoner first Sep
tember, 1692, and had his head struck off at Toulouse in the month
->f November following.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 81
consented, and the Prince having shown him aU the works
and attended him back to their rendezvous, " WeU, Chevaher,
said he, " when do you think we shall see you again ?" " Faith,"
rephed he, "you have used me so handsomely, that I shall
conceal nothing from you. Hold yourseK in readiness an hour
before daybreak ; for, you may depend upon it, we shaU attack
you to-morrow morning. I would not have acquainted you
with this, perhaps, had I been entrusted with the secret, but,
nevertheless, in the present case you may beheve me." " You
are stiU the same man," said the Prince, again embracing
him. The Chevaher 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. " WeU, Monsieur le Chevaher, were they aU very glad to
see you ?" said Monsieur de Turenne ; " the Prince, no doubt,
received you with the greatest kindness, and asked a great
number of questions 1" " He has shown me aU the civility
imaginable," rephed the Chevaher ; " and, to convince me he
did not take me for a spy, he led me round the lines and en
trenchments, and showed me the preparations he had made for
your reception." "And what is his opinion?" said the Mar
shal. " He is persuaded that you wiU attack him to-night,
or to-morrow by daybreak ; for you great captains," continued
the Chevaher, " see through each other's designs in a wonder
ful manner."
Monsieur de Turenne, with pleasure, received this commen
dation from a man who was not indiscriminately accustomed
to bestow praise. He communicated to him the disposition of
the attack ; 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 smaU advan-

82 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
tage to have the benefit of his advice, but as he beheved that
the remaining part of the night would be hardly sufficient for
his repose, after having passed the former without any re
freshment, he consigned him to the Marquis d'Humieres, who
provided him with a supper and a lodging.
The next day the lines of Arras were attacked, wherein
Monsieur de Turenne, being victorious, added additional lustre
to his former glory ; and the Prince de Conde', though van
quished, lost nothing of his former reputation.
There are so many accounts of this celebrated battle, that to
mention it here would be altogether superfluous. The Cheva
her de Grammont, who, as a volunteer, was permitted to go into
every part, has given a better description of it than any other
person. Monsieur de Turenne reaped great advantage from
that activity which never forsook the Chevaher either in peace
or war ; and that presence of mind which enabled him to carry
orders, as coming from the general, so very apropos, that
Monsieur de Turenne, otherwise very particular in such mat
ters, thanked him, when the battle was over, in the presence
of aU his officers, and despatched him to court with the first
news of his success.
All that is generaUy necessary in these expeditions, is to be
accustomed to hard riding, and to be weU provided with fresh
horses, but he had a great many other obstacles to surmount.
In the first place, the parties of the enemy were dispersed over
aU the country, and obstructed his passage. Then he had
to prepare against greedy and officious courtiers, who, on
such occasions, post themselves in aU the avenues, in order
to cheat the poor courier out of his news. However, his
address preserved him from the one, and deceived the
others. He had taken eight or ten troopers, commanded by an

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 8,3
officer of his acquaintance, to escort him haK way to Bapaume ,*
being persuaded that the greatest danger would he 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 foUowed him closely, " If you are
not weU mounted," said he, " I would advise you to return to
the camp ; for my part, I shah set spurs to my horse, and make
the best of my way." " Sir," said the officer, " I hope I shaU
be able to keep you compauy, at whatever rate you go, until
you are out of aU danger." " I doubt that," rephed the Cheva
her, "for those gentlemen there seem prepared to pay us a
visit." " Don't you see," said the officer, " they are some of
our own people who are grazing their horses ?" " No," said
the Chevaher ; " but I see very weU that they are some of the
enemy's troopers." Upon which, observing to him that they
were mounting, he ordered the horsemen that escorted him to
prepare themselves to make a diversion, and he himseK set off
fuU speed towards Bapaume.
He was mounted upon a very swht English horse ; but hav
ing entangled himseK in a hoUow way where the ground was
deep and miry, he soon had the troopers at his heels, who, sup
posing him to be some officer of rank, would not be deceived,
but continued to pursue him without paying any attention to
the others. The best mounted of the party began to draw near
him ; for the English horses, swKt as the wind on even ground,
proceeded but very indifferently in bad roads ; the trooper pre
sented his carbine, and cried out to him, at some distance)
" Good quarter." The Chevaher de Grammont, who perceived
* A fortified town in Artois, seated in a barren country, without
rivers or springs, and having an old palace, which gave rise to the town,
with a particular governor of its own, a royal and forest court. In 1641
the French took it from the Spaniards.

84 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
that they gained upon him, and that whatever efforts his horse
made in such heavy ground, he must be overtaken at last,
immediately quitted the road to Bapaume, and took a cause
way to the left, which led quite a different way ; as soon as
he had gained it, he drew up, as K to hear the proposal of the
trooper, which afforded his horse an opportunity of recovermg
himseK ; while his enemy, mistaking his intention, and think
ing that he only waited to surrender, immediately exerted
every effort, that he might take him before the rest of his com
panions, who were foUowing, could arrive, and by this means
almost kihed his horse.
One minute's reflection made the Chevaher consider what a
disagreeable adventure it would be, thus coming from so
glorious a victory, and the dangers of a battle so warmly dis
puted, to be taken by a set of scoundrels who had not been in
it, and, instead of being received in triumph, and embraced by
a great queen, for the important news with which he was
charged, to see himseK stripped by the vanquished.
During this short meditation, the trooper who foUowed him
was arrived within shot, and still presenting his carbine, offered
him good quarter, but the Chevalier de Grammont, to whom
this offer, and the manner in which it was made, were equally
displeasing, made a sign to him to lower his piece ; and per
ceiving his horse to be in wind, he lowered his hand, rode off
like lightning, and left the trooper in such astonishment that
he even forgot to fire at him.
As soon as he arrived at Bapaume, he changed horses ; the
commander of this place showed him the greatest respect, as
suring him that no person had yet passed ; that he would keep
the secret, and that he would retain aU that followed him, ex
cept the couriers of Monsieur de Turenne.
He now had only to guard against those who would be

QUEEN ANNE EMBRACING THE CHEVALIER DE GRAMMONT BEFORE
THE WHOLE COURT. Page Sj.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 85
watching for him about the environs of Peronne, to return as
soon as they saw him, and carry his news to court, without
being acquainted with any of the particulars. He knew very
weU that Marshal du Plessis, Marshal de ViUeroy, and Ga-
boury, had boasted of this to the Cardinal before his departure.
Wherefore, to elude this snare, he hhed two weU-mounted
horsemen at Bapaume, and as soon as he had got a league from
that place, and after giving them each two louis d'ors, to secure
their fidelity, he ordered them to ride on before, to appear very
much terrified, and to teU aU those who should ask them any
questions, " that aU was lost, that the Chevaher de Grammont
had stopped at Bapaume, having no great inclination to be the
messenger of iU news ; and that as for themselves, they had
been pursued by the enemy's troopers, who were spread over
the whole country since the defeat."
Everything succeeded to his wish : the horsemen were in
tercepted by Gaboury, whose eagerness had outstripped the
two marshals"; but w atever questions were asked them, they
acted their parts so weU, that Peronne was already in con
sternation, and rumours of the defeat were whispered among
the courtiers, when the Chevaher de Grammont arrived.
Nothing so enhances the value of good news, as when a
false alarm of bad has preceded ; yet, though the Chevalier's
was accompanied with this advantage, none but their Ma
jesties received it with that transport of joy it deserved.
The queen kept her promise to him in the most fascinating
manner : she embraced him before the whole court ; the king
appeared no less dehghted ; 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

86 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
being afterwards informed that the hnes had been forced, that
the Spanish army was beaten, and that Arras was relieved :
" Is the Prince de Conde" taken ?" said he. " No," rephed the
Chevaher de Grammont. " He is dead then, I suppose ?" said
the Cardinal. "Not so, neither," answered the Chevaher.
" Fine news indeed !" said the Cardinal, with an air of con
tempt ; and at these words he went into the queen's cabinet
with their majesties. And happy it was for the Chevaher
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 Cheva
her, as is usual on such an occasion, was surrounded by a
crowd of courtiers and inquisitive people, and he was very
glad to ease himseK of some part of the load which laid heavy
on his heart, within the hearing of the Cardinal's creatures,
and which he would perhaps have told him to his face.
" Faith, gentlemen," said he, with a sneer, " there is nothing
like being zealous and eager in the service of longs and great
princes : you have seen what a gracious reception his Majesty
has given me ; you are likewise witnesses in what an obhging
manner the queen kept her promise with me ; but as for the
Cardinal, he has received my news as K he gained no more by
it than he did by the death of Peter Mazarin."f
* This spirit seems not always to have attended him in his trans
actions with the Cardinal. On occasion of the entry of the king in 1660
" Le Chevalier de Grammont, Rouville, Belief onds, and some other
courtiers, attended in the cardinal's suite, a degree of flattery which
astonished everybody who knew him. I was informed that the Cheva
lier wore a very rich orange-coloured dress on that occasion." Letfres
de Maintenon, tome i. p. 32.
t Peter Mazarin was father to the Cardinal He was a native of
Palermo in Sicily, which place he left in order to settle at Rome, where
he died in the year 1654.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 87
This was sufficient to terrKy aU those who were sincereiy
attached to him ; and the best estabhshed fortune would have
been ruined at some period by a jest much less severe : for it
was dehvered in the presence of witnesses, who were only
desirous of having an opportunity of representing it in its ut
most malignancy, to make a merit of their vigilance with a
powerful and absolute minister. Of this the Chevaher de
Grammont was thoroughly convinced; yet whatever detri
ment he foresaw might arise from it, he could not help being
much pleased with what he had said.
The spies very faitlifuhy discharged their duty : however,
the affair took a very different turn from what they expected.
The next day, when the Chevaher de Grammont was present
while their Majesties were at dinner, the Cardinal came in,
and coming up to him, everybody making way for him out of
respect : " Chevaher," said he, " the news which you have
brought is very good, their Majesties are very weU satisfied
with it ; and to convince you it is more advantageous to me
than the death of Peter Mazarin, K you wiU come and dine
with me we wiU have some play together ; for the queen wiU
give us sometliing to play for, over and above her first
promise." In this manner did the Chevalier de Grammont dare to
provoke a powerful minister, and this was all the resentment
which the least vindictive of aU statesmen expressed on the
occasion. It was indeed very unusual for so young a man to
reverence the authority of ministers no farther, than as they
were themselves respectable by their merit ; for this, his own
breast, as weU as the whole court, applauded him, and he en
joyed the satisfaction of being the only man who durst pre
serve the least shadow of liberty, in a general state of servi
tude ; but it was perhaps owing to the Cardinal's passing over

88 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
this insult with impunity, that he afterwards drew upon him
seK some difficulties, by other rash expressions less fortunate
in the event.
In the mean time the court returned : the Cardinal, who
was sensible that he could no longer keep his master in a
state of tutelage, being himseK worn out with cares and sick
ness, and having amassed treasures he knew not what to do
with, and being sufficiently loaded with the weight of pubhc
odium, he turned aU his thoughts towards terminating, in a
manner the most advantageous for France, a rninistry which
had so crueUy 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 Chevaher de Grammont experienced for a long time a
variety of fortune in love and gaming : he was esteemed by
the courtiers, beloved by beauties whom he neglected, and a
dangerous favourite of those whom he admired ; more succes-
ful in play than in his amours ; but the one indemnifying him
for want of success in the other, he was always fuU of hfe and
spirits ; and in aU transactions of importance, always a man
of honour.
It is a pity that we must be forced here to interrupt the
course of his history, by an interval of some years, as has
been already done at the commencement of these memoirs.
In a hfe where the most minute circumstances are always
singular and diverting, we can meet with no chasm which
does not afford regret ; but whether he did not think them
worthy of holding a place among his other adventures, or that
he has only preserved a confused idea of them, we must
pass to the parts of these fragments which are better ascer
tained, that we may arrive at the subject of bis journey to
England.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 89
The peace of the Pyrenees* the king's marriage,t the
return of the Prince de Conde,t and the death of the Car
dinal, gave a new face to the state. The eyes of the whole
nation were fixed upon their king, 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
Bprings of the intrigues and cabals of aU courts, attentively
observed bis first steps : pleasure promised herseK an absolute
empire over a prince who had been kept in ignorance of the
necessary rules of government, and ambition had no hopes of
reigning in the court except in the 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 briUiant
abilities, which prudence, in some measure necessary, had so
long obhged him to conceal.
An application, inimical to the pleasures which generaUy
attract that age, and which unlimited power very seldom
refuses, attached him solely to the cares of government : all
admired this wonderful change, but aU did not find their
account in it: the great lost their consequence before an
absolute master, and the courtiers approached with reverential
awe the sole object of their respects and the sole master of
their fortunes : those who had conducted themselves like
petty tyrants in their provinces, and on the frontiers, were
now no more than governors : favours, according to the king's
* This treaty was concluded 7th November, 1659.
f Louis XTV. with Maria Theresa of Austria. She was born 20th
September, 1638, married 1st June, 1660, and entered Paris 26th
August following. She died at Versailles 30th July, 1683, and was
buried at St. Denis.
tilth April. — See De Rett's Memoirs, vol. iii. p. 119.

p0 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
pleasure, were sometimes conferred on merit, and sometimes
for services done the state ; but to importune, or to menace
the court, was no longer the method to obtain them.
The Chevaher de Grammont regarded his master's attention
to the affairs of state as a prodigy: he could not conceive
how he could submit at his age to the rules he prescribed
himseK, or that he should give up so many hours of pleasure,
to devote them to the tiresome duties, and laborious 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. Dis
daining as he did the servhe adoration usuaUy paid to a
minister, he could never crouch before the power of the two
Cardinals who succeeded each other: he neither worshipped
the arbitrary power of the one, nor gave his approbation to the
artifices of the other ; he had never received anything from
Cardinal Bichelieu but an abbey, which, on account of his
rank, could not be refused him; and he never acquired
anything from Mazarin but what he won of him at play.
By many years' experience under an able general he had
acquired a talent for war ; but this during a general peace was
of no further service to him. He therefore thought that, in
the midst of a court flourishing in beauties and abounding in
wealth, he could not employ himseK better than in endeavour
ing to gain the good opinion of his master, in making the best
use of those advantages which nature had given him for play,
and in putting in practice new stratagems in love.
He succeeded very weU in the two first of these projects,
and as he had from that time laid it down as the rule of his
conduct to attach himself solely to the king in all his views of
preferment, to have no regard for favour unless when it was
supported by merit, to make himself beloved by the courtiers

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 01
and feared by the minister, to dare to undertake anything in
order to do good, and to engage in nothing at the expense of
innocence, he soon became one in all the king's parties of
pleasure, without gaining the iU wiU of the courtiers. In
play he was successful, in love unfortunate ; or, to speak more
properly, his restlessness and jealousy overcame his natural
prudence, in a situation wherein he had most occasion for it.
La Motte Agencourt was one of the maids of honour to the
queen dowager, and, though no sparkling beauty, she had
drawn away lovers from the celebrated MeneviUe* 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 K 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 Chevaher de Grammont thought fit to act
quite otherwise, perhaps to preserve a singularity of character,
which upon the present occasion was of no avail.
He had never before thought of her, but as soon as he found
* These two ladies at this period seem to have made a distinguished
figure in the annals of gallantry. One of their contemporaries mentions
them in these 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 ia Motte Agen
court, that it was on his score, when I am assured, upon very good
grounds, that it was for entertaining the Marquis de Bichelieu against
her majesty's express command. This lady, who was one of her maids
of honour, was a person whom I was particularly acquainted with ; and
that so much, as I was supposed to have a passion for her : she was
counted one of the finest women of the court, and therefore I was not
at all displeased to have it thought so ; for except Mademoiselle de
Meneville, (who had her admirers,) there was none that could pretend
to dispute it." Memoirs of the Comte de Rochfuri, 1696, p. 210. See
also Anquetil, Louis XVI. sa Cour et le Regent, tome i. p. 40.

92 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
that she was honoured with the king's attention, he was of
opinion that she was hkewise deserving of his. Having
attached himseK to her, he soon became very troublesome,
without convincing her he was much in love. She grew
weary of his persecutions, but he would not desist, neither on
account of her iU-treatment nor of her threats. This conduct
of lus at first made no great noise, because she was in hopes
that he would change his behaviour ; but finding him rashly
persist in it, she complained of him : and then it was that he
perceived that K love renders aU 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 shght 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.

MISS JENNINGS.

CHAPTER SIXTH.
HIS ARRIVAL AT THE ENGLISH COURT. — THE VARIOUS PER
SONAGES OF THIS COURT.

j'TJEIOSITT to 6ee a man equaUy famous for his
crimes and his elevation, had once before in
duced the Chevaher de Grammont to visit
England. Reasons of state assume great privi
leges. Whatever appears advantageous is lawful, and every
thing that is necessary is honourable in pohtics. 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 CromweU.
This man, whose ambition had opened him a way to
9S

96 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
sovereign power by the greatest crimes, maintained himself
in it by accomplishments which seemed to render him worthy
of it by their lustre. The nation, of all Europe the least
submissive, patiently bore a yoke which did not even leave
her the shadow of that liberty of which she is so jealous ;
and Cromwell, master of the Commonwealth, under the title
of Protector, feared at home, but yet more dreaded 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 nobihty proscribed,
the other removed from employments ; an affectation of
purity of manners, instead of the luxury which the pomp
of courts displays all taken together, presented nothing but
sad and serious objects in the finest city in the world ;
and therefore the Chevalier acquired nothing by this voyage
but the idea of some merit in a 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 engagements 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 disposition.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 97
Everything flattered his taste, and if the adventures he had in
this country were not the most considerable, they were at
least the most agreeable of his life. But before we relate
them it wiU 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
earhest youth to the toils and perils of a bloody war. The
fate of the king his father had left him for inheritance nothing
but bis misfortunes and disgraces. They overtook him every
where ; but it was not until he had struggled with his iU-
fortune to the last extremity that he submitted to the decrees
of Providence.
AU those who were either great on account of then birth
or their loyalty had foUowed him into exUe ; and aU the young
persons of the greatest distinction having afterwards joined
him, composed a court worthy of a better fate.
Plenty and prosperity, which are thought to tend only to
corrupt manners, found nothing to spoU in an indigent and
wandering court. Necessity, on the contrary, which produces
a thousand advantages whether we wiU or no, served them for
education ; and nothing was to be seen among them but an
emulation in glory, pohteness, and virtue.
With this httle 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 aU appearances, he was
to fiU as worthily as the most glorious of his predecessors.
The magnificence displayed on this occasion was renewed at Ms
coronation.* * There is some reason to believe that the Count de GTammont, whose
circumstances at his first arrival at the court of Britain were inferior to
his rank, endeavoured to distinguish himself by his literary acquire
ments. A scarce little book, in Latin and French, upon the coronation,
has been ascribed to him with some probability. The initials subscribed

98 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
in different places of the work are P. D. C, which may correspond to
Philibert de Craraont, in which manner the family name was often
spelt; and the dedication seems to apply accurately to the counts
circumstances. The full title runs : —
"Complementum Fortunatarum Insularum, sive Galathea Vatieinans;
being part of an epithalamium upon the auspicious match of the most
puissant and most serene Charles II., and the most illustrious Catharina,
Infanta of Portugal ; with a description of the Fortunate Islands.
Written originally in French, by P. D. C, Gent.,* and since translated
by him into Latin and English. With the translations also of the
Description of S. James's Park, and the late Fight at S. Lucar, by Mr.
Edmund Waller ; the Panegyrio of Charles the Second, by Mr. Dryden;
and other pieces relating to the present times. London, printed by
W. G., 1662.
It is dedicated to James Boteler, Earl of Ossory, Viscount Thorle,
afterwards Duke of Ormond, previous to his going to Ireland.f which
dedication concludes thus ; " The utmost height of my ambition, and
the utmost soope of my design at present, my lord, is only sinoe I have
no other means left me to provide for my attendance upon your lordship
and the heads of your honourable family, in this your journey, that
you will be pleased to accept of me, in this slender garb, being every
way otherwise disappointed by the frowns of fortune, and so unfit to
pretend admittance in so splendid a train j unless it be
Nelle scorta di Febo, che a vos s'inchina,
Tutta ridente, tutta di scherzi piena.
But, my lord, my own words on another occasion :
¦  Si, quelque jour, la Fortune
Met en plus grande liberW
Mon Genie persecute
Des rigueurs de cette importune, —
Peut-etre d'un burin plus sure
Et d'un vers rempli de douceur —
D'Ormond j'entrewendrai 1'image ;

* Tne state of nis fortune at this period not allowing the splendour of
a French nobleman, he was only considered a private gentleman, and
this he hints at in the dedication that, follows.
t Philibert, Count Grammont married the Duke of Ormond's sister,

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 99
Et daiis les beaux exploits de tous ses descendans
La depeindrai si bien que la plus fiere rage
Bespectera ses traits jusqu'a la fin des temps.
This is the vow, this is the serious wish of him, my lord, who desires,
for no better end, to be once again restored to the state of his former
fortune, than to become thereby more ready aud capable to wait here
after on your lordship otherwise than by his pen, and so declare, by some
more real deed than poetical expressions, how unfeignedly he is,
My lord, Your lordship's
Most true and most devoted servant,
P. D. C.
The contents of this book consist chiefly of poetry of a complimentary
nature. The following well-known lines of Waller's, on Westminster
Abbey, he has given with much taste : —
" From hence he does that antique pile behold,
Where royal heads receive the sacred gold ;
It gives them crowns, and does their ashes keep ;
There made like gods, like mortals there they sleep."
" Passant plus outre il voit la chapelle oh nos rois
Eecoivent l'or sacree, et leur gardant les loix ;
La terre aussi sacree egalement leur donne
La droit de sepulture et la droit de couronne."
The contents of the volume are : —
A Song of the Sea Nymph Galatea, upon the marriage of Charles II,
and the Princess Infanta of Portugal, (15 stanzas of ten lines each).
The Bame in Latin.
The same in French.
St. James's Park, by Waller, in English, French, and Latin.
Of the late War with Spain, 1657, and our Victory at St. Lucar, near
Cadiz, by the same, in English and French.
On his sacred Majesty's Coronation, by Dryden, English and French.
The Fortunate Islands, being part of a larger poem written formerly
in French, upon the happy inauguration of Charles II.— By P. D. C;
and since by him translated in English and Latin. Dedicated to his
dear friend Edmund Waller, Esq., with a specimen of an English
version. Another dedication : " To Prince Rupert, as a monument of his

ioo MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
The death of the Duke of Gloucester* and of the Princess
devoted respects and due esteem of his Highness's celebrated virtues and
great experience in sea voyages ; and as a deserved acknowledgment of
his Highness's indefatigable endeavours in promoting English planta
tions, P. D. C. humbly dedicates this Pindaric Rapture : being part of
his poem of the Fortunate Islands, formerly written in French, and
addressed to the King's Majesty upon the solemnity of his auspicious
coronation." — 25 Stanzas of ten lines each.
The same in Latin.
The King's excursion on the Thames, July anno 1661 ; An extem
pore Ode, " To the great and illustrious William, Earl of Devonshire,
the noble and judicious Maecenas of polite literature ; P. D. C. dedi
cates it in obedient and grateful testimony," &&
A short Ode of about 60 lines.
If we are correct in imputing this work to Grammont, he must have
been in England at the time of the Coronation, which agrees tolerably
with the vague expression in the text that he arrived about two years
after the Restoration. For this ceremony did not take place until after
the deaths of the Duke of Gloucester and the Princess of Orange. It
was celebrated 22d and 23d April, 1661, with uncommon magnificence;
the whole show as Lord Clarendon observes, being the most glorious
in the order and expence, that had ever been seen in England. The pro
cession began from the Tower, and continued so long, that they who
rode first were in Fleet-street when the king issued from the Tower.
The whole ceremonial took up two days. See Continuation of Claren
don, p. 29. KenneSs Register, 411.
* This event took place September 3rd, 1660. He died of the small
pox. " Though mankind," as Mr. Macpherson observes, " are apt to
exaggerate the virtues of princes who happen to die in early youth,
their praises seem to have done no more than justice to the character of
Gloucester. He joined in himself the best qualities of both his brothers:
the understanding and good-nature of Charles, to the industry and
application of James. The facility of the first, was in him a judicious
moderation. The obstinacy of the latter, was in Gloucester a manly
firmness of mind. Attached to the religion, and a friend to the con
stitution of his country, he was most regretted, when his family regarded
these the least. The vulgar, who crowd with eminent virtues and
great actions the years which fate denies to their favourites, foresaw
future misfortunes in his death ; and even the judicious supposed that
the measures of Charles might have derived solidity from his judgment

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 101
Royal* which foUowed soon after, had interrupted the course
of this splendour by a tedious mourning, which they quitted
at last to prepare for the reception of the Infanta of Portugal, j

and promising parts. The king lamented his death with all the vehe
mence of an affectionate sorrow." The Duke of York was much
affected with the loss of a brother, whose high merit he much admired-
" He was a prince," says James, " of the greatest hopes, undaunted
courage, admirable parts, and a clear understanding." He had a par
ticular talent at languages. Besides the Latin, he was master of the
French, the Spanish, the Italian, and Low Dutch. He was, in short,
possessed of all the natural qualities, as well as acquired accomplish
ments, necessary to make a great prince. Macpherson's History of
Great Britain, ch . 1 . Bishop Burnef s character of this young prince
is also very favourable. Ses History of his Own Times, vol. i. p. 238.
* Mary, eldest daughter of Charles L, born November 4th, 1631,
married to the Prince of Orange, 2nd May, 1641, who died 27th October,
1650. She arrived in England, September 23rd, and died of the small
pox, December 24th, 1660, — according to Bishop Burnet, not much
lamented. " She had lived," says the author, " in her widowhood for
some years with great reputation, kept a decent court, and supported
her brothers very liberally ; and lived within bounds. But her mother,
who had the art of making herself believe anything she had a mind
to, upon a conversation with the queen-mother of France, fancied the
King of France might be inclined to marry her. So she wrote to her to
come to Paris. In order to that, she made an equipage far above what
she could support. So she ran herself into debt, sold all her jewels,
and some estates that were in her power as her son's guardian ; and
was not only disappointed of that vain expectation, but fell into some
misfortunes that lessened the reputation she had formerly lived in."
History of his Own Times, voL i., p. 238. She was mother of
William UL
t "The Infanta of Portugal landed in May (1662) at Portsmouth.
The Vino went thither, and was married privately by Lord Aubigny, a
secular priest, and almoner to the queen, according to the rites of Rome,
in the queen's chamber ; none present but the Portuguese ambassador,
three more Portuguese of quality, and two or three Portuguese women.
What made this necessary was, that the Earl of Sandwich did not
marry her by proxy, as usual, before she came away. How this hap-

102 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
It was in the height of the rejoicings they were making for
this new queen, in ah the splendour of a briUiant court, that
the Chevaher de Grammont arrived to contribute to its mag
nificence and diversions.
Accustomed as he was to the grandeur of the court of
France, he was surprised at the pohteness and splendour of
the court of England. The king was inferior to none,* either
in shape or ah ; his wit was pleasant ; his disposition easy
and affable ; his soul, susceptible of opposite impressions, was
compassionate to the unhappy, inflexible to the wicked, and
tender even to excess; he showed great abilities in urgent
affairs, but was incapable of application to any that were not
so : his heart was often the dupe, but oftener the slave, of his
engagements. The character of the Duke of Yorkf was entirely different :
pened, the duke knows not, nor did the chancellor know of this private
marriage. The queen would not be bedded, till pronounced man and
wife by Sheldon, bishop of London." — Extract 2, from King James
II. 's Journal. — Macpherson's State Papers, vol. i. In the same col
lection is a curious letter from the King to Lord Clarendon, giving his
opinion of the queen after having seen her.
• Charles II. was born 29th May, 1630, and died 6th February,
1684-5. His character is very amply detailed, and accurately depicted
by George Saville, Marquis of Halifax, in a volume published by his
granddaughter, the Countess of Burlington, 8vo., 1750. See also
Burnet, Clarendon, and Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham.
¦f James, Duke of York, afterwards King James II. He was born
15th October, 1633 ; succeeded his brother 6th February, 1684-5 j
abdicated the crown in 1688 ; and died 6th September, 1701. Bishop
Burnet's character of him appears not very far from the truth. — " He
was," says this writer, " very brave in his youth ; and so much magni
fied by Monsieur Turenne, that till his marriage lessened him, he
really clouded the king, and passed for the superior genius. He was
naturally candid and sincere, and a firm friend, till affairs and his
religion wore out all hi3 first principles and inclinations. He had a

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 103
he had the reputation of undaunted courage, an inviolable
attachment for his word, great economy in his affairs, hauteur,
application, arrogance, each in their turn : a scrupulous ob
server of the rules of duty and the laws of justice ; he was
accounted a faithful friend, and an implacable enemy.
His morahty and justice, strugghng for some time with
prejudice, had at last triumphed, by his acknowledging for
his wife Miss Hyde,* maid of honour to the Princess Royal,

prreat desire to understand affairs : and in order to that he kept a con
stant journal of all that passed, of which he showed me a great deal.
The Duke of Buckingham gave me once a short but severe character
of the two brothers. It was the more severe, because it was true : the
king, (he said,) could see things if he would : and the duke would see
things if he could. He had no true judgment, and was soon deter
mined by those whom he trusted : but he was obstinate against all
other advices. He was bred with high notions of kingly authority,
and laid it down for a maxim, that all who opposed the king were
rebels in their hearts. He was perpetually in one amour or other,
without being very nice in his choice : upon which the king once said,
he believed his brother had his mistress given him by his priests for
penance. He was naturally eager and revengeful : and was against
the taking off any, that set up in an opposition to the measures of the
court, and who by that means grew popular in the house of com
mons. He was for rougher methods. He continued many years
dissembling his religion, and seemed zealous for the church of Eng
land, but it was chiefly on design to hinder all propositions, that
tended to unite us among ourselves. He was a frugal prince, and
brought his court into method and magnificence, for he had 100,000^.
a-year allowed him. He was made high admiral, and he came to
understand all the concerns of the sea very particularly."
* Miss Anne Hyde, eldest daughter of Lord Chancellor Clarendon.
King James mentions this marriage in these terms.— "The king at first
refused the Duke of York's marriage with Miss Hyde. Many of the
duke's friends and servants opposed it. The king at last consented, and
the Duke of York privately married her, and soon after owned the
marriage. Her want of birth was made up by endowments j and hei
L

104 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
whom he had secretly married in Holland. Her father,*
from that time prime minister of England, supported by this
new interest, soon rose to the head of 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 esteem

carriage afterwards became her acquired dignity." Again. " When
his sister, the princess royal, came to Paris to see the queen-mother, the
Duke of York fell in love with Mrs. Anne Hyde, one of her maids of
honour. Besides her person, she had all the qualities proper to inflame
a heart less apt to take fire than his ; which she managed so well as to
bring his passion to such an height, that, between the time he first saw
her and the winter before the king's restoration, he resolved to marry
none but her ; and promised her to do it : and though, at first, when
the duke asked the king his brother for his leaver he refused, and dis
suaded him from it, yet at last he opposed it no more; and the duke
married her privately, owned it some time after, and was ever after a
true friend to the chancellor for several years." — Macpherson's Stale
Papers, vol. L
* Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, "for his comprehensive know
ledge of mankind, styled the chancellor of human nature. His charac
ter, at this distance of time, may and ought to be impartially considered.
Designing or blinded contemporaries heaped the most unjust abuse upon
him. The subsequent age, when the partisans of prerogative were at
least the loudest, if not the most numerous, sniit with a work that
defied their martyr, have been unbounded in their encomium." — Cata
logue of Noble Authors, vol. ii. p. 18. Lord Orford, who professes to
steer a middle course, and separate his great virtues as a man from his
faults as an historian, acknowledges that he possessed almost every
virtue of a minister which could make his character venerable. He died
in exile, in the year 1674.
t James Butler, Duke of Ormond, born 19th October, 1610, and died
21sfc July, 1688. Lord Clarendon, in the Continuation of his Life.,
observes, 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

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 105
of his master : the greatness of his services, the splendour of
his merit and his birth, and the fortune he had abandoned in
adhering to the fate of his prince, rendered him worthy of it :
nor durst the courtiers even murmur at seeing him grand
steward of the household, first lord of the bed-chamber, and
lord-heutenant of Ireland. He exactly resembled the Mar
shal de Grammont, in the turn of his wit and the nobleness
of his manners, and hke him was the honour of his master's
court.

made with him, and when he could make no longer defence, he refused
all the conditions which Cromwell offered — who would have given him
his vast estate if he would have been contented to live quietly in some
of his own houses, without further concerning himself in the quarrel —
and transported himself, without so much as accepting a pass from his
authority, in a little weak vessel into France, where he found the king,
from whom he never parted till he returned with him into England.
Having thus merited as much as a subject can do from a prince, he had
much more credit and esteem with the king than any other man." —
Continuation of the Life of Lord Clarendon, p. 4, fol. edit. Bishop
Burnet says of him, " he was a man every way fitted for a court ; of a
graceful appearance, a lively wit, and a cheerful temper ; a man of
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. But the whole Irish nation did still pretend, that though
they had broke the agreement first, yet he, or rather the king, in whose
name he had treated with them, was bound to perform all the articles
of the treaty. He had miscarried so in the siege of Dublin, that it
very much lessened the opinion of his military conduct. Yet his con
stant attendance on his master, his easiness to him, and his great suffer
ing for him, raised him to be lord-steward of the household, and lord-
lieutenant of Ireland. He was firm to the Protestant religion, and so
far firm to the laws, that he always gave good advices ; but when bad
ones were followed, he was not for complaining too much of them."—
History of His Own Times, vol. i., p. 230.

106 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
The Duke of Buckingham* and the Earl of St. Albansf were
the same in England as they appeared in France : the one fuU
of wit and vivacity, dissipated, without splendour, an immense
estate upon which he had just entered : the other, a man of
no great geniuo, had raised himself a considerable fortune
from nothing, and by losing at play, and keeping a great table,
made it appear greater than it was.
Sir George Berkeley ,% afterwards Earl of Falmouth, was the
* " The Duke of Buckingham is again one hundred and forty thou
sand pounds in debt ; and by this prorogation his creditors have time
to tear all his lands to pieces." — Andrew Marvell's Works, 4to. edit.,
vol. i. p. 406.
+ Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans, and Baron of St. Edmond's
Bury. He was master of the horse to Queen Henrietta, and one of the
privy-council to Charles II. In July, 1660, he was sent ambassador to
the court of France, and, in 1671, was made lord-chamberlain of his
majesty's household. He died January 2, 1683. Sir John Reresby
asserts that Lord St. Alban's was married to Queen Henrietta. " The
abbess of an English college in Paris, whither the queen used to retire,
would tell me," says Sir John, " that Lord Jermyn, since St. Alban's,
had the queen greatly in awe of him ; and indeed it was obvious that
he had great interest with her concerns ; but that he was married to
her, or had children by her, as some have reported, I did not then
believe, though the thing was certainly so." — Memoirs, p. 4. Madame
Baviere, in her letters, says, "Charles the First's widow made a clandes
tine marriage with her chevalier cFhonneur, Lord St. Alban's, who
treated her extremely ill, so that, whilst she had not a faggot to warm
herself, he had in his apartment a good fire and a sumptuous table.
He never gave the queen a kind word, and when she spoke to him he
used to say, Que me veut cettefemme ?' Hamilton hints at his selfish
ness a little lower.
X This Sir George Berkeley, as he is here improperly called, wan
Charles Berkley, second son of Sir  Berkley, of Bruton, in Glou
cestershire, and was the principal favourite and companion of the Duke
of York in all his campaigns. He was created Baron Berkley of Rath-
down, and Viscount Fitahardiug of Ireland, and Baron Bottetort and
Ear! of Falmouth in England, 17th March, 1664. He had the address

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 107
confidant and favourite of the King : he commanded the Duke
of York's regiment of guards, and governed the Duke himself
He had nothing very remarkable either in his wit, or his
person ; but his sentiments were worthy of the fortune which
awaited him, when, on the very point of his elevation, he was
kiUed at sea. Never did disinterestedness so perfectly cha
racterise the greatness of the soul : he had no views but what

to secure himself in the 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 the
king) had ever observed any virtue or quality, which they did not wish
their best friends without. He was young, and of an insatiable ambi
tion; and a little more experience might have taught him all things which
his weak parts were capable of."— Clarendon's Life, p. 34, 267. Bishop
Burnet, however, is rather more favourable. " Berkley," says he, " was
o-enerous in his expence ; and it was thought if he had outlived the
lewdness of that time, and come to a more sedate course of life, he
would have put the long on great and noble designs."— History, vol. i.,
p. 137. He lost his life in the action at Southwold Bay, the 2nd June,
1665, by a shot, which, at the same time, killed Lord Muskerry and
Mr. Boyle, as they were standing on the quarter-deck, near the Duke
of York, who was covered with their blood. " Lord Falmouth," as
King James observes, " died not worth a farthing, though not expen
sive."— Macpherson's State Papers, vol. i. "He was, however, lamented
by the king with floods of tears, to the amazement of all who had
seen how unshaken he stood on other assaults of fortune."— Clarendon's
Life, p. 269. Even hi3 death did not save him from Marvoll's satire.
Falmouth was there, I know not what to act,
Some say, 'twas to grow duke too by coutract ;
An untaught bullet, in its wanton scope,
Dashes him all to pieces, and his hope :
Such was his rise, such was his fall unpraised,—
A chance shot sooner took him than chance raised ;
His shattered head the fearless duke disdains,
And gave the last first proof that he had brains.
Advice to a Painter, p. i.

108 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
tended to the glory of his master : his credit was never em
ployed but in advising him to reward services, or to confer
favours on merit : so pohshed in conversation, that the greater
his power, the greater was his humility ; and so sincere in aU
his proceedings, that he would never have been taken for a
courtier. The Duice of Ormond's sons and his nephews had been in
the king's court during his exUe, and were far from diminish
ing its lustre after his return. The Earl of Arran* had a sin
gular address in aU kinds of exercises, played weU at tennis
and on the guitar, and was pretty successful in gaUantiy : his
* Richard Butler, Earl of Arran, fifth son of Jarae3 Butler, the
first Duke of Ormond. He was born 15th July, 1639, and educated
with great care, being taught everything suitable to his birth, and the
great affection his parents had for him. As he grew up, he distin
guished himself by a brave and excellent disposition, which determined
him to a military life. When the duke his father was first made lord-
lieutenant of Ireland, after the restoration, his majesty was pleased, by
his letter, dated April 23, 1662, to create Lord Richard, Baron Butler
of Cloghgreuan, Viscount Tullogh, in the county of Catherlough, and
Earl of Arran, with remainder to his brother. In September, 1664,
he married Lady Mary Stuart, only surviving daughter of James, Duke
of Richmond and Lennox, by Mary, the only daughter of the great
Duke of Buckingham, who died in July, 1667, at the age of eighteen,
and was interred at Kilkenny. He distinguished himself in reducing
the mutineers at Carrick- Fergus, and behaved with great courage in the
famous sea-fight with the Dutch in 1673. In August that year, he was
created Baron Butler of Weston, iu the county of Huntingdon. He
married, in the preceding June, Dorothy, daughter of John Ferrars of
Tamworth Castle, in Warwickshire, Esq. In 1682 he was constituted
lord-deputy of Ireland, upon his father's going over to England, and
hejd that office until August, 1C84, when the duke returned. In the
year 1686, he died at London, and was interred in Westminster Abbey,
leaving an only daughter, Charlotte, who was married to Charles, Lord
Cornwallis.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 109
elder brother, the Earl of Ossory* was not so lively, but of
the most liberal sentiments, and of great probity.
The elder of the Hanhltons,f their cousin, was the man
who of aU the court dressed best : he was weU made in his
person, and possessed those happy talents which lead to for
tune, and procure success in love : he was a most assiduous
* Thomas, Earl of 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 behaviour." His death was occasioned by a fever, 30th July,
1680, to the grief of his family and the public.
+ Lord Orford, in a note on this passage, mentions George Hamilton,
and the author of this present work, as the persons here intended to be
pointed out ; and towards the conclusion of the volume has attempted
to disentangle the confusion occasioned by the want of particularly
distinguishing to which of the gentlemen the several adventures belong
in which their name occurs. The elder Hamilton, however, here de
scribed, was, I conceive, neither George nor Anthony, but James Hamil
ton, their brother, eldest son of Sir George Hamilton, fourth son of the
Earl of Abercorn, by Mary Butler, third sister to James the first Duke
of Ormond. This gentleman was a great favourite of king Charles II.,
who made hi™ a groom of his bedchamber, and colonel of a regiment.
In an engagement with the Dutch he had one of his legs taken off by
a cannon ball, of which wound he died 6th June, 1673, soon after he
was brought home, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. George
Hamilton was afterwards knighted, made a count in France, and mare-
chal-du-camp in that service. He married Miss Jennings, hereafter
mentioned, and died, according to Lodge, 1667, leaving issue bj her,
three daughters.

no MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
courtier, had the most hvely wit, the most polished manners,
and the most punctual attention to his master imaginable :
no person danced better, nor was any one a more general
lover : a merit of some account in a court entiiely devoted to
love and gaUantry. It is not at aU surprising, that with these
qualities he succeeded my Lord Falmouth in the King's favour ;
but it is very extraordinary that he should have experienced
the same destiny, as if this sort of war had been declared
against merit only, and as if this sort of combat was fatal to
none but such as had certain hopes of a splendid fortune.
This, however, did not happen tiU some years afterwards.
The beau Sydney,* less dangerous than he appeared to be,
* Robert Sydney, third son of the Earl of Leicester, and brother
of the famous Algernon Sydney, who was beheaded. This is Lord
Orford's account ; though, on less authority, I should have been in
clined to have considered Henry Sydney, his younger brother, who was
afterwards created Earl of Rumney, and died 8th April, 1704, as the
person intended. There are some circumstances which seem particu
larly to point to him. Burnet, speaking of him, says, " he was a
graceful man, and had lived long in the court, where he had some
adventures that became very public. He was a man of a sweet and
caressing temper, had no malice in his heart, but too great a love of
pleasure. He had been sent envoy to Holland in the year 1679, where
he entered into such particular confidences with the prince, that he
had the highest measure of his trust and favour that any Englishman
ever had." — History of his Own Times, vol. ii., p. 494.
In the Essay on Satire, by Dryden and Mulgrave, he is spoken of
in no very decent terms.
" And little Sid, for simile renown'd,
Pleasure has always sought, but never found :
Though all his thoughts on wine and women fall,
His are so bad, sure he ne'er thinks at all.
The flesh he lives upon is rank and strong ;
His meat and mistresses are kept too long.
But sure we all mistake this pious man,
Who mortifies his person all he can :

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. in
had not sufficient vivacity to support the impression which
his figure made ; but httle Jermyn was on aU sides successful
in his intrigues. The old Earl of St. Albans, his uncle, had
for a long time adopted him, though the youngest of aU his
nephews. It is weU known what a tablo the good man kept
at Paris, while the King his master was starving at Brussels,
and the Queen Dowager, bis mistress,* lived not over well in
France.

What we uncharitably take for sin,
Are only rules of this odd capuchin ;
For never hermit, under grave pretence,
Has lived more contrary to common sense."
These verses, however, have been applied to Sir Charles Sedley, whose
name was originally spelt Sidley. Robert Sydney died at Pens-
hurst, 1674.
* To what a miserable state the queen was' reduced may be seen in
the following extract from De Retz. — " Four or five days before the
king removed from Paris, I went to visit the Queen of England, whom
I found in her daughter's chamber, who hath been since Duchess of
Orleans. At my coming in she said, ' You see I am come to keep
Henrietta company. The poor child could not rise to-day for want of
a fire.' The truth is, that the cardinal for six months together had not
ordered her any money towards her pension ; that no tradespeople
would trust her for 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 faggot ; but it was not this which the Princess of Conde
meant in her letter. What she spoke about was, that some days after
my visiting the Queen of England, I remembered the condition I had
found her in, and had strongly represented the shame of abandoning her
in that manner, which caused the parliament to send 40,000 livres to her
majesty. Posterity will hardly believe that a Princess of England,
grand-daughter of Henry the Great, hath wanted a faggot, in the month
of January, to get out of bed in the Louvre, and in the eyes of a
French court. We read in histories, with horror, of baseness less
monstrous than this ; and the little concern I have met with about it
in most people's minds, has obliged me to make, I believe, a thousand
id

ii2 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT,
Jermyn,* supported by his uncle's wealth, faund 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 equi
page and magnificence ; and these two articles often produce
as much success in love as real merit : there is no necessity
for any other example than the present ; for though Jermyn
was brave, and certainly a gentleman, yet he had neither bril
liant actions, nor distinguished rank, to set him off; and as
for his figure, there was nothing advantageous in it. He was
httle: his head was large and his legs smaU; his features
were not disagreeable, but he was affected in his carriage and

times, this reflection, — that examples of times past move men beyond
comparison more than those of their own times. We accustom our
selves to what we see ; and I have sometimes told you, that I doubted
whether Caligula's horse being made a consul would have surprised us
so much as we imagine." — Memoirs, vol. i, p. 261. As for the relative
situation of the king and Lord Jermyn, (afterwards St. Albans,) Lord
Clarendon says, that the " Marquis of Ormond was compelled to put
himself in prison, with other gentlemen, at a pistole a-week for his
diet, and to walk the streets a-foot, which was no honourable custom in
Paris, whilst the Lord Jermyn kept an excellent table for those who
courted him, and had a coach of his own, and all other accommodations
incident to the most full fortune : and if the king had the most urgent
occasion for the use but of twenty pistoles, as sometimes he had, he
could not find credit to borrow it, which he often had experiment of.''
—History of the Rebellion, vol. iii, p. 2.
* Henry Jermyn, younger son of Thomas, elder brother of the Earl
of St. Albans. He was created -Baron Dover in 1685, and died with
out children, at Cheveley, in Cambridgeshire, April 6, 1708. His corpse
was carried to Bruges, in Flanders, and buried in the monastery of the
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 civility and
good taste of it into the country." — St. Evremond' & Works, vol. ii., p. 223.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 113
behaviour. AU his wit consisted in expressions learnt by
rote, which he occasionaUy employed either in raiUery, or in
love. This was the 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 foUowing the steps of her mis
tress : this immediately brought him into credit, and his re
putation was established in England before bis arrival. Pre
possession in the minds of women is sufficient to find access
to their hearts : Jermyn found them in dispositions so favour
able for him, that he had nothing to do but to speak.
It was in vain they perceived that a reputation so lightly
established, was stiU more weakly sustained : the prejudice
remained: the Countess of Castlemaine,j a woman hvely
* It was suspected of this princess to have had a similar engagement
with the Duke of Buckingham as the queen with Jermyn, and that was
the cause she would Dot see the Duke on his second voyage to Holland,
in the year 1652.
t This lady, who makes so distinguished a figure in the annals of
infamy, was Barbara, daughter and heir of William Villiers, Lord Vis
count Grandison, of the kingdom of Ireland, who died in 1642, in
consequence of wounds received at the battle of Edgehill. She was
married, just before the restoration, to Roger Palmer, Esq., then a
student in the Temple, and heir to a considerable fortune. In the 13th
year of King Charles IL he was created Earl of Castlemaine in the
kingdom of Ireland. She had a daughter, born in February, 1661,
while she cohabited with her husband j but shortly after she became
the avowed mistress of the king, who continued his connection with
her until about the year 1672, when she was delivered of a daughter,
which was supposed to be Mr. Churchill's, afterwards Duke of Marl
borough, and which the king disavowed. Her gallantries were by no
means confined to one or two, nor were they unknown to his majesty.
In the year 1670 she was created Baroness of Nonsuch, in Surrey,
Countess of Southampton, and Duchess of Cleveland, during her
natural life, with remainder to Charles and George Fitzroy, her eldest
and third son, and their heirs male. In July, 1705, her husband died,

ii4. MEMOIRS OF COUNT^ GRAMMONT.
and discerning foUowed the delusive shadow; and though
undeceived in a reputation which promised so much, and per-<
formed so httle, she nevertheless continued in her infatua
tion : she even persisted in it, until she was upon the point
of embroiling herseh with the King ; so great was this first
instance of her constancy.
Such were the heroes of the court. As for the beauties,
you could not look anywhere without seeing them J those oi
the greatest reputation were this same Countess of Castle-
maine, afterwards Duchess of Cleveland, Lady Chesterfield,
Lady Shrewsbury,* the Mrs. Roberts, Mrs. Middleton, the
and she soon after married a man of desperate fortune, known by the
name of Handsome Fielding, who behaving in a manner unjustifiably
severe towards her, she was obliged to have resource to law for her
protection. Fortunately it was discovered that Fielding had already a
wife living, by which means the duchess was enabled to free herself
from his authority. She lived about two years afterwards, and died of
a dropsy, on the 9th of October, 1709, in her 69th year. Bishop Bumet
says, " she was a woman of great beauty, but most enormously vicious
and ravenous ; foolish, but imperious ; very uneasy to the king, and
always carrying on intrigues with other men, while yet she pretended
she was jealous of him. His passion for her, and her strange behaviour
towards him, did so disorder him, that often he was not master of him
self, nor capable of minding business, which, in so critical' a time, re
quired great application. — History of his Own Times, voL i. p. 129.
* Anna Maria, Countess of Shrewsbury, eldest daughter of Robert
Brudenel, Earl of Cardigan, and wife of Francis, Earl of Shrewsbury,
who was killed in a duel by George, Duke of Buckingham, March 16,
1667. She afterwards re-married with George Rodney Bridges, Esq.,
second son of Sir Thomas Bridges of Keynsham, in Somersetshire
knight, and died April 20, 1702. By her second husband she had one
son, George Rodney Bridges, who died in 1751. This woman is said to
have been so abandoned, as to have held, in the habit of a page, hei
gallant, the duke's horse, while he fought and killed her husband; after
which she went to bed with him, stained with her husband's blood.

ELIZABETH, COUNTESS OF CHESTERFIELD,

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 115
Misses Brooks,* and a thousand others, who shone at court
with equal lustre; but it was Miss Hamilton and Miss
Stewart who were its chief ornaments. The new queen gave
but httle- additional brilliancy to the court,f either in her
person or in her retinue, which was then composed of the
Countess de Pane'tra, who came over with her in quality of
lady of the bedchamber ; six frights, who caUed themselves
maids of honour, -and a duenna, another monster, who took
the title of governess to those extraordinary beauties.
8 One of these ladies married Sir John Denham, and is mentioned
hereafter. t Lord Clarendon confirms, in some measure, this account. " There
was a numerous family of men and women, that were sent from Portugal,
the most improper to promote that conformity in the queen that was
necessary for her condition and future happiness that could be chosen ;
the women, for the most part, old, and ugly, and proud, incapable of
any conversation with persons of quality and a liberal education : and
they desired, and indeed had conspired so far to possess the queen them
selves, that she should neither learn the English language, nor use their
habit, nor depart from the manners and fashions of her own country in
any particulars : which resolution," they told, " would be for the dignity
of Portugal, and would quickly induce the English ladies to conform to
her majesty's practice. And this imagination had made that impression ,
that the tailor who had been sent into Portugal to make her clothes
could never be admitted to see her, or receive any employment. Nor
when she came to Portsmouth, and found there several ladies of honour
and prime quality to attend her in the places to which they were
assigned by the king, did she receive any of them till the king himself
came ; nor then with any grace, or the liberty that belonged to their
places and offices. She could not be persuaded to be dressed out' of
the wardrobe that the king had sent to her, but would wear, the clothes
which she had brought, until she found that the king was displeased,
and would be obeyed ; whereupon she conformed, against the advice
of her women, who continued their opiniatrety, without any one of
them receding from their own mode, which exposed them the more to
reproach." — Continuation of Clarendon's Life, p. 168. In a short time
after their arrival in England, they were ordered back to Portugal.

116 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Among the men were Francisco de Melo, brother to the
Countess de Panetea; one Taurauv<5dez, who caUed himself
Don Pedro Francisco Correo de Silva, extremely handsome,
but a greater fool than aU the Portuguese put together: he
was more vain of his names than of his person; but the
Duke of Buckingham, a stfll greater fool than he, though
more addicted to raiUery, gave him the additional name of
Peter of the "Wood. He was so enraged at this, that, after
many fruitless complaints and ineffectual menaces, poor Pedro
de Silva was obliged to leave England, while the happy duke
kept possession of a Portuguese nymph more hideous than
the queen's maids of honour, whom he had taken from him,
as weU as two of his names. Besides these, there were six
chaplains, four bakers, a Jew perfumer, and a certain officer,
probably without an office, who caUed himself her highness's
barber. Katharine de Braganza was far from appearing with
splendour in the charming court where she came to reign;
however, in the end she was pretty successful* The Cheva-
• Lord Clarendon says, " the queen had beauty and wit enough to
make herself agreeable to him (the king) ; and it is very certain, that,
at their first meeting, aDd for some time after, the king had very good
satisfaction in her. . . . Though she was of years enough to have had
more experience of the world, and of as much wit as could be wished,
and of a humour very agreeable at some seasons, yet, she had been bred,
according to the mode and discipline of her country, in a monastery,
where she had only seen the women who attended her, and conversed
with the religious who resided there ; and, without doubt, in her inclina
tions, was enough disposed to have been one of that number: and from this
restraint she was called out to be a great queen, and to a free conversa
tion in a court that was to be upon the matter new formed, and reduced
from the manners of a licentious age to the old rules and limits wlnYli
had been observed in better times ; to which regular and decent confoi-
mity the present disposition of men or women was not enough inclined
to submit, nor the king enough disposed to exact"— Continuation if
Lord Clarendon's Life, p. 167. After some struggle, she submitted to lie

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 117
lier de Grammont, who had been long known to the royal
family, and to most of the gentlemen of the court, had only
to get acquainted with the ladies ; and for this hfl wanted no
interpreter : they aU spoke French enough to explain them
selves, and they aU understood it sufficiently to comprehend
what he had to say to them.
The queen's court was always very numerous ; that of the
duchess was less so, but more select. This princess* had a
majestic air, a pretty good shape, not much beauty, a great
deal of wit, and so just a discernment of merit, that, whoever
of either sex were possessed of it, were sure to be distinguished
by her : an ah of grandeur in aU her actions made her be con
sidered as if born to support the rank which placed her so
near the throne. The queen dowager returned after the mar
king's licentious conduct, and from that time lived upon easy terms with
him, until his death. On the 30th March, 1692, she left Somerset-house,
her usual residence, and retired to Lisbon, where she died, 31st Decem
ber, 1705, N. S.
* " The Duchess of York," says Bishop Burnet, " was a very extra
ordinary woman. She had great knowledge, and a lively sense of
things. She soon understood what belonged to a princess, and took
state on her rather too much. She wrote well, and had begun the
duke's Ufe, of which she showed me a volume. It was all drawn from
his journal ; and he intended to have employed me in carrying it oru
She was bred in great strictness in religion, and practised secret con
fession. Morley told me he was her confessor. She began at twelve
years old, and continued under his direction till, upon her father's dis
grace, he was put from the court. She was generous and friendly, but
was too severe an enemy." — History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 237.
She was contracted to the duke at Breda, November 24, 1659, and
married at Worcester-house, 3rd September, 1660, in the night, be
tween eleven and two, by Dr. Joseph Crowther, the duke's chaplain ;
the Lord Ossory giving her in marriage. — Kennefs Register, p. 246.
She died 31st March, 1671, having previously acknowledged herself to
be a Roman Catholic. — See also her character by Bishop Morley. —
Kennefs Register, p. 385, 390.

118 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
riage of the princess royal,* and it was in her court that the
two others met.
The Chevaher de Grammont was soon liked by aU parties :
those who had not known him before were surprised to see a
Frenchman of his disposition. The king's restoration having
drawn a great number of foreigners from aU 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 foUy and extravagance, despising
everything which was not like themselves, and thinking they
introduced the bel air by treating the English as strangers in
their own country.
The Chevaher de Grammont, on the contrary, was familiar
with everybody : he gave in to their customs, eat of everything,
and easily habituated himself to their manner of living, which
he looked upon as neither vulgar nor barbarous ; and as he
showed a natural complaisance, instead of the impertinent af
fectation of the others, aU the nation was charmed with a man,
t Queen Henrietta Maria arrived at Whitehall, 2nd Novembei,
1660, after nineteen years absence. She was received with acclama
tions ; and bonfires were lighted on the occasion, both in London and
Westminster. She returned to France with her daughter, the Princess
Henrietta, 2nd January, 1660-1. She arrived again at Greenwich, 28lh
July, 1662, and continued to keep her court in England until July,
1665, when she embarked for France, " and took so many things with
her," says Lord Clarendon, " that it was thought by many that she did
not intend ever to return into England. Whatever her intentions at
that time were, she never did see England again, though she lived
many years after."— Continuation of Clarendon's Life, p. 263. She
died at Colombe, near Paris, in August, 1669 ; and her son, the Duke
of York, pronounces this eulogium on her : " She excelled in all the
good qualities of a good wife, of a good mother, and a good Christian."
— Macpherson's Original Papers, vol. i.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 119
who agreeably indemnified them for what they had suffered
from the foUy of the former.
He first of aU made his court to the king, and was of aU his
parties of pleasure : he played high, and lost but seldom : he
found so httle difference in the manners and conversation of
those with whom he chiefly associated, that he could scarcely
beheve he was out of his own country. Everything which
could agreeably engage a man of his disposition, presented
itself to his different humours, as if the pleasures of the court
of France had quitted it to accompany him in his exUe.
He was every day engaged for some entertainment; and
those who wished to regale him in their turn, were obhged to
take their measures in time, and to invite him eight or ten
days before hand. These importunate civilities became tire
some in the long run ; but as they seemed indispensable to a
man of his disposition, and as they were the most genteel
people of the court who loaded him with them, he submitted
with a good grace ; but always reserved to himself the hberty
of supping at home.
His supper 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 exceUent caterers and good attendants, but under
stood cheating stiU better.
The company, at these little entertainments, was not nume
rous, but select : the first people of the court were commonly
of the party ; but the man, who of aU others suited him best
on these occasions, never failed to attend : that was the cele
brated Saint Evremond, who with great exactness, but too
great freedom, had written the history of the treaty of the
Pyrenees : an exile hke himself, though for very different
reasons.

120

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.

Happily for them both, fortune had, some time before the
arrival of the Chevaher de Grammont, brought Saint Evre
mond* to England, after he ha'd had leisure to repent in Hol
land 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 1st of April, 1613.
He was educated at Paris, with a view to the profession of the law ;
but he early quitted that pursuit, and went into the army, where he
signalized himself on several occasions. At' the time of the Pyrenean
treaty, he wrote a letter censuring the conduct of Cardinal Mazarin,
which occasioned his being banished France. He first took' refuge
ia Holland ; but, in 1662, he removed into England, where he con
tinued, with a short interval, during the rest of his life. to. 1675,
the Duchess of Mazarin came to reside in England ; and with her St.
Evremond passed much of his time. He preserved his health and
cheerfulness to a very great age, and died 9th of September, 1703,
aged ninety years, five months, and twenty days. His biographer
Monsieur Des Maizeaux, describes him thus : " M. de St, Evremond
had blue, lively, and sparkling eyes, a large forehead, thick eyebrows,
a handsome mouth, and a sneering physiognomy. Twenty years before
his death, a wen grew between his eye-brows, which in time increased
to a considerable bigness. He once designed to have it cut off, but as
it was no ways troublesome to him, and he little .regarded that kind of
deformity, Dr. Le Fevre advised him to let it alone, lest such an opera
tion should be attended with dangerous symptoms in a man of his age.
He would often make merry with himself on account of his wen, his great
leather cap, and grey hair, which he chose to Wear rather than a peri
wig." St. Evremond was a kind of Epicurean philosopher, and drew
his own character in the following terms, in a letter to Count de Gram
mont. " He was a philosopher equally removed from superstition and
impiety ; a voluptuary who had no less aversion from debauchery than
inclination for pleasure : a man who had never felt the pressure of
indigence, and who had never been in possession of affluence : he lived
in a condition despised by those who have everything, envied by those
who have nothing, and relished by those who make their reason the
foundation of their happiness. When he was. young he hated profusion,
being persuaded that some degree of wealth was necessary for the con-"
veniencies of a long life : when he was old, he could hardly end urn
economy, being of opinion that want is little to be dreaded when a man

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 121
The Chevalier was from that time his hero : they had each
of them attained to aU the advantages which a knowledge of
the world, and the society of people of fashion, could add to
the improvement of good natural talents. Saint Evremond,
less engaged in frivolous pursuits, frequently gave httle lec
tures to the Chevaher, and by making observations upon the
past, endeavoured to set him right for the present, or to in
struct him for the future. " You are now," said he, " in the
most agreeable way of hfe a man of your temper could wish
for : you are the dehght of a youthful, sprightly, and gallant
court : the king has never a party of pleasure to which you
are not admitted. You play from morning to night, or, to
speak more properly, from night to morning, without knowing
what it is to lose. Far from losing the money you brought

has but little time left to be miserable. He was well pleased with
nature, and did not complain of fortune. He hated vice, was indulgent
to frailties, and lamented misfortunes. He sought not after the failings
of men with a design to expose them ; he only found what was ridicu
lous in them for his own amusement : he had a secret pleasure in dis
covering this himself, and would, indeed, have had a still greater in
discovering this to others, had not he been checked by .discretion. Life,
in his opinion, was too short to read all sorts of books, and to burden
one's memory with a multitude of things, at the expense of one's judg
ment. He did not apply himself to the most learned writings, in order
to acquire knowledge, but to the most rational, to fortify hia reason : he
sometimes chose the most delicate, to give delicacy to his own taste, and
sometimes the most agreeable, to give the same to his own genius. It
remains that he should be described, such as he was, in friendship and
in religion. In friendship he was more constant than a philosopher, and
more sincere than a young man of good nature without experience.
With regard to religion, his piety consisted more in justice and charity
thm in penance or mortification. He placed his confidence in God,
trusting in His goodness, and hoping that in the bosom of His provi
dence he should find his repose and his felicity." — He was buried in
Westminster Abbey.

122 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT:
hither, as you have done in other places, you have doubled it,
trebled it, multiplied it almost- beyond your wishes, notwith
standing the exorbitant expenses you are imperceptibly led
into. This, without doubt, is the most desirable situation in
th6 world: stop here, Chevalier, and do not- ruin your affairs
by returning to your old sins. Avoid love, by pursuing other
pleasures : love has never been favourable to you* You are
sensible how much gaUantry has cost you ; and every perscn
here is not so weU acquainted with that matter as yourself.
Play boldly : entertain the court with your wit : divert the
king by your ingenious and entertaining stories ; but avoid aU
engagements which can deprive you of this merit, and make
you forget you are a stranger and an exile in this delightful
country. * " Saint Evremond and Bussi-Rabutin, who have also written on the
life of the Count de Grammont, agree with Hamilton in representing
him as a man less fortunate in love than at play ; not seeking for any
other pleasure in the conquest of a woman but that of depriving an
other of her ; and not able to persuade any one of his passion, because
he spoke to her, as at all other times, in jest : but cruelly revenging
himself on those who refused to hear him ; corrupting the servants of
those whom they did favour, counterfeiting their handwriting, inter
cepting their letters, disconcerting their rendezvous ; in one word,
disturbing their- amours by everything which a rival, prodigal, in
defatigable, and full of artifice, can be imagined to do. The straitest
ties of blood could not secure any one from his detraction. His
nephew, the Count de Guiche, was a victim : he had in truth, offended
the Count de Grammont, by having supplanted him in the affection of
the Countess de Fiesque, whom he loved afterwards for the space -of
twelve years. Here was enough to irritate the self-love of a man less
persuaded of his own merit.''
Hamilton does not. describe the exterior of the count, but accuses
Bussi-Rabutin of having, in the following description, given a more
agreeable than faithful portrait of him : " The chevalier had laughing
eyes, a well-formed nose, a beautiful mouth, a small dimple in the chin,
which had an agreeable effect on his countenance, a certain delicacy in
his physiognomy, and a handsome shape, if he had not stooped."

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 123
"Fortune may grow weary of befriending you at play.
What would have become of you, if your last misfortune had
happened to you when your money had been at as low an ebb
as I have known it ? Attend carefuUy then to this necessary
deity, and renounce the other. You wiU be missed at the
court of France before you grow weary of this ; but be that as
it may, lay up a good store of money : when a man is rich he
consoles himself for his banishment. I know you weU, my
dear Chevaher : if you take it into your head to seduce a lady,
or to supplant a lover, your gains at play will by no mean3
suffice for presents and for bribes : no, let play be as produc
tive to you as it can be, you wiU never gain so much by it as
you wiU lose by love, if you yield to it.
" You are in possession of a thousand splendid qualifications
which distinguish you here : generous, benevolent, elegant,
and pohte ; and for your engaging wit, inimitable. Upon a
strict examination, perhaps, aU this would not be found liter-
aUy true ; but these are briUiant marks ; and since it is granted
that you possess them, do not show yourself here in any other
light : for, in love, if your manner of paying your addresses
can be so denominated, you do not in the least resemble the
picture I have just now drawn."
"My httle philosophical monitor," said the Chevalier de
Grammont, " you talk here as if you were the Cato of Nor
mandy.'' " Do I say anything untrue ?" rephed Saint Evre
mond : " Is it not a fact, that as soon as a woman pleases you,
your first care is to find out whether she has any other lover,
and your second how to plague her ; for the gaining her affec
tion is the last thing in your thoughts. You seldom engage
in intrigues, but to disturb the happiness of others : a mistress
who has no lovers would have no charms for you, and if she
has, she would be invaluable. Do not aU the places through

T24 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
which you have passed furnish me with a thousand examples ?
ShaU I mention your coup d'essai at Turin ? the trick you
played at Fontainebleau, where you robbed the Princess Pala
tine's courier upon the highway ? and for what purpose was
this fine exploit, but to put you in possession of some proofs
of her affection for another, in order to give her uneasiness
and confusion by reproaches and menaces, which you had no
right to use ?
" Who but yourself ever took it into his head to place him
seK in ambush upon the stairs, to disturb a man in an in
trigue, and to puU him back by the leg when he was half
way up to his mistress's chamber ? yet did not you use your
friend the Duke of Buckingham in this manner, when he was
stealing at night to  although you were not in the least his
rival ? How many spies did not you send out after d'Olonne ?*
How many tricks, frauds, and persecutions, did you not prac
tise for the Countess de Fiesque,t who perhaps might have
* Mademoiselle de la Loupe, who is mentioned in De Betz*s Memoirs
vol iii., p. 95. She married the Count d'Olonne, and became famous
for her gallantries, of which thft Count de Bussi speaks so much, in his
History of the Amours of the Gauls. Her maiden name was
Catherine Henrietta d'Angennes, and she was daughter to Charles
d'Angennes, Lord of la Loupe, Baron of Amberville, by Mary du
Raynier. There is a long character of ber by St. Evremond in his
works, vol L, p. 17. The same writer, mentioning the concern of some
ladies for the death of the Duke of Candsle, says, " But his true mis
tress (the Countess d'Olonne) made herself famous by the excess of ber
affliction, and had, in my opinion, been happy, if she had kept it on
to the last. One amour is creditable to a lady ; and I know not whether
it be not more advantageous to their reputation than never to have
been in love."— St Evremond's Works, vol ii., p. 24.
t This lady seems to have been the wife of Count de Fiesque, who
is mentioned by St. Evremond, as " fruitful in military chimeras ;
who, besides the post of lieutenant-general, which he had at Paris
obtained a particular commission for the beating up of the quarters,

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 123
been constant to you, if you had not yourself forced her to be
otherwise ? But, to conclude, for the enumeration of your
iniquities would be endless, give me leave to ask you, how
you came here ? Are not we obhged to that same evh genius
of yours, which rashly inspired you to intermeddle even in
the gallantries of your prince ? Show some discretion then
on this point here, I beseech you ; aU the beauties of the
court are already engaged; and however docile the "English
may be with respect to theh wives, they can by no means
bear the inconstancy of theh mistresses, nor patiently suffer
the advantages of a rival : suffer them therefore to remain in
tranquillity, and do not gain theh Ul-wiU for no purpose.
" You certainly wiU meet with no success with such as are
unmarried": honourable views,, and* good landed property, are
required here ; and you possess as much of the one as the
other. Every country has its customs : in HoUand, unmarried
ladies are of easy access, and of tender dispositions; but as
soon as ever they are married, they become like so many Lu-r
cretias :. in France, the women are great coquettes before
marriage, and stiU more so afterwards ; but here it is a miracle
if a young lady yields to any proposal but that of matrimony :
and I do not believe you yet so destitute of grace as to think
of that."
Such were Saint Evremond's lectures ; but they were aU
to no purpose : -the Chevaher de Grammont only attended to
them for his amusement ; and though he was sensible of the
truth they contained, he paid little regard to them : in fact,

and other rash and sudden exploits, which may be resolved upon whilst
one is singing the air of La Barre, or dancing a minuet.'' — St. Evre
mond's Works, voL i, p. 6. The count's name occurs very frequently
in De Retz's Memoirs.

126 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
being weary of the favours of fortune, he had just resolved to
pursue those of love.
Mrs. Middleton was the first whom he attacked : she was
one of the handsomest women in town, though then httle
known at court : so much of the coquette as to discourage no
one ; and so great was her deshe of appearing magnificently,
that she was ambitious to vie with those of the greatest for
tunes, though unable to support the expense. AU this suited
the Chevaher de Grammont; therefore, without trifling away
his time in useless ceremonies, he apphed to her porter for
admittance, and chose one of her lovers for bis confidant.
This lover, who was not deficient in wit, was at that time
a Mr. Jones, afterwards Earl of Banelagh:* what engaged
him to serve the Chevaher de Grammont, was to traverse the
designs of a most dangerous rival, and to relieve himself from
an expense which began to he too heavy upon him. In both
respects the Chevaher answered his purpose.
Immediately spies were placed, letters and presents flew
about : he was received as weU as he could wish : he was per
mitted to ogle : he was even ogled again ; but this was aU :
he found that the fair one was very willing to accept, but
was tardy in making returns. This induced him, without
giving up his pretensions to her, to seek his fortune else
where. Among the queen's maids of honour, there was one caUed
* Richard, the first Earl of Ranelagh, was member of the English house
of commons, and vice-treasurer of Ireland, 1674. He held several
offices under King William and Queen Anne, and died 6th January,
1711. Bishop Burnet says, " Lord Ranelagh was a young man of great
parts, and as great vices : he had a pleasantness in his conversation
that took much with the king ; and had a great dexterity in business."
—History of his Own Times, vol. i, p. 373.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 127
Warmestre :* she was a beauty very different from the other.
Mrs. Middle tony was weU made, fair, and dehcate ; but had
in her behaviour and discourse something precise and affeeted.
The indolent languishing airs she gave herself did not please
everybody: people grew weary of those sentiments of deli
cacy, which she endeavoured to explain without understand
ing them herseh; and instead of entertaining she became
tiresome. In these attempts she gave herseh so much trouble,
that she made the company uneasy, and her ambition to pass
for a wit, only established her the reputation of being tire
some, which lasted much longer than her beauty.
Miss Warmestre was brown : she had no shape at aU, and
stiU less ah; but she had a very hvely complexion, very
sparkling eyes, tempting looks, which spared nothing that
might engage a lover, and promised everything which could
preserve him. In the end, it very plainly appeared that her
* Lord Orford observes, that there is a family of the name of War
minster settled at Worcester, of which five persons are interred in the
cathedral. One of them was dean of the church, and his epitaph
mentions his attachment to the royal family. Miss Warminster, how
ever, was probably only a fictitious name. The last Earl of Arran,
who lived only a short time after the period these transactions are
supposed to have happened, asserted, that the maid of honour here
spoken of was Miss Mary Kirk, sister of the Countess of Oxford, and
who, three years after she was driven from court, married Sir Thomas
Vernon, under the supposed character of a widow. It was not im
probable she then assumed the name of Warminster. In the year
1669, the following is the list of the maids of honour to the queen : — 1.
Mrs. Simona Carew. 2. Mrs. Catherine Bainton. 3. Mrs. Henrietta
Maria Price. 4. Mrs. Winifred Wells. The lady who had then the
office of mother of the maids was Lady Saunderson. — See Chamber-
layne's Anglice Notitia, 1669, p. 301.
t Mrs. Jane Middleton, according to Mrs. Granger, was a woman of
small fortune, but great beauty. Her portrait is in the gallery at
Windsor. o

128 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
consent went along with her eyes 10 the last degree of indis
cretion. It was between these two goddesses that the inclinations of
the Chevalier de Grammont stood wavering, and between
whom his presents were divided. Perfumed gloves, pocket
looking-glasses, elegant boxes, apricot paste, essences, and
other smaU wares of love, arrived every week from Paris,
with some new suit for himself; but, with regard to more
solid presents, such as ear-rings, diamonds, brilliants, and
bright guineas, aU this was to be met with of the best sort in
London, and the ladies were as weU pleased with them as if
they had been brought from abroad.
Miss Stewart's* beauty began at this time to be celebrated.
• Frances, Duchess of Richmond, daughter of Walter Stewart, son
of Walter, Baron of Blantyre, and wife of Charles Stewart, Duke of
Richmond and Lennox : a lady of exquisite beauty, if justly repre
sented in a puncheon made by Roettiere, his majesty's engraver of
the mint, in order to strike a medal of her, which exhibits the finest
face that perhaps was ever seen. The king was supposed to be des
perately in love with her ; and it became common discourse, that there
was a design on foot to get him divorced from the queen, in order to
marry this lady. Lord Clarendon was thought to have promoted the
match with the Duke of Richmond, thereby to prevent the other
design, which he imagined would hurt the king's character, embroil
his affairs at present, and entail all the evils of a disputed succession
on the nation. Whether he actually encouraged the Duke of Rich
mond's marriage, doth not appear ; but it is certain that he was so
strongly possessed of the king's inclination to a divorce, that, even after
his disgrace, he was persuaded the Duke of Buckingham had under
taken to carry that matter through the parliament. It is certain too
that the king considered him as the chief promoter of Miss Stewart's
marriage, and resented it in the highest degree. The ceremony took
place privately, and it was publicly declared in- April, 1667. From one
of Sir Robert Southwell's dispatches, dated Lisbon, December T\, 1667,
it appears that the report of the queen's intended divorce had not
then subsided in her native country. — History of the Revolutions of
Portugal, 1740, p. 352. The duchess became a widow in 1672, and

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 129
The Countess of Castlemaine perceived that the king paid
attention to her; but, instead of being alarmed at it, she
favoured, as far as she was able, this new inclination, whether
from an indiscretion common to aU those who think them
selves superior to the rest of mankind, or whether she de
signed, by this pastime, to divert the king's attention from
the commerce which she held with Jermyn. She was not
satisfied with appearing without any degree of uneasiness at
a preference which aU the court began to remark : she even
affected to make Miss Stewart her favourite, and invited her
to aU the entertainments she made for the king ; and, in con
fidence of her own charms, with the greatest indiscretion, she
often kept her to sleep. The king, who seldom neglected to visit
the countess before she rose, seldom failed Hkewise to find Miss
Stewart in bed with her. The most indifferent objects have
charms in a new attachment : however, the imprudent countess
was not jealous of this rival's appearing with her, in such a
situation, being confident, that whenever she thought fit, she
could triumph over aU the advantages which these opportuni
ties could afford Miss Stewart ; but she was quite mistaken.
The Chevaher de Grammont took notice of this conduct,
without being able to comprehend it ; but, as he was atten
tive to the inclinations of the king, he began to make his
court to him, by enhancing the merit of this new mistress.
Her figure was more showy than engaging: it was hardly
possible for a woman to have less wit, or more beauty : all
her features were fine and regular; but her shape was not
good : yet she was slender, straight enough, and taller than

died October 15, 1702. See Burnefs History, Ludlow's Memoirs, and
Carte's Life of the Duke of Ormond. A figure in wax of this duchess
is still to be seen in Westminster-abbey.

i3o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
the generality of women : she was very graceful, danced well,
and spoke French better than her mother tongue : she was
weU bred, and possessed, in perfection, that ah of dress
which is so much admired, and which cannot be attained,
unless it be taken when young, in France. While her charms
were gaining ground in the king's heart, the Countess of
Castlemaine amused herseh in the gratification of aU her
caprices. Mrs. Hyde* was one of the first of the beauties who were
prejudiced with a bhnd prepossession in favour of Jermyn :
she had just married a man whom she loved : by this mar
riage she became sister-in-law to the duchess, brilliant by her
own native lustre, and fuU of pleasantry and wit. However,
she was of opinion, that so long as she was not tallied of on
account of Jermyn, aU her other advantages would avah
nothing for her glory: it was, therefore, to receive this
finishing stroke, that she resolved to throw herseh into his
arms. She was of a middle size, had a skin of a dazzb'ug white
ness, fine hands, and a foot surprisingly beautiful, even in
England : long custom had given such a languishing tender
ness to her looks, that she never opened her eyes but hke a
Chinese ; and, when she ogled, one would have thought she
was doing sometliing else.
Jermyn accepted of her at first ; but, being soon puzzled
what to do with her, he thought it best to sacrifice her lo
Lady Castlemaine. The sacrifice was far from being displeasing
to her; it was much to her glory to have carried off Jermyn
from so many competitors ; but this was of no consequence in
the end.
* Theodosia, daughter of Arthur, Lord Capel, first wife of Henry
Hyde, the second Earl of Clarendon.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 131
Jacob HaU (the famous rope-dancer)* was at that time in
vogue in London ; his strength and agihty charmed in pubhc,
even to a wish to know what he was in private ; for he ap-
peared,in his tumbhng dress, to be quite of a different make.and
to have limbs very different from the fortunate Jermyn. The
tumbler did not deceive Lady Castlemaine 's expectations, if
report may be believed ; and as was intimated in many a song,
much more to the honour of the rope-dancer than of the
countess; but she despised aU these rumours, and only ap
peared stiU more handsome.
While satire thus found employment at her cost, there were
continual contests for the favours of another beauty, who was
not much more niggardly in that way than herseh ; this was
the Countess of Shrewsbury.
The Earl of Arran, who had been one of her first admirers,
was not one of the last to desert her ; this beauty, less famous
for her conquests than for the misfortunes she occasioned,
placed her greatest merits in being more capricious than any
other. As no person could boast of being the only one in her
* " There was a symmetry and elegance, as well as strength and
agility, in the person of Jacob Hall, which was much admired by the
ladies, who regarded him as a due composition of Hercules and Adonis.
The open-hearted Duchess of Cleveland was said to have been in love
with this rope-dancer and Goodman the player at the same time. The
former received a salary from her grace." — Granger, vol. ii., part 2, p.
461. In reference to the connection between the duchess and the rope-
dancer, Mr. Pope introduced the following lines into his " Sober Advice
from. Horace :"
" What push'd poor E  s on th' imperial whore 3
'Twas but to be where Charles had been before.
The fatal steel unjustly was apply'd,
When not his lust offended, but his pride :
Too hard a penance for defeated sin,
Himself shut out, and Jacob Hall let in,"

r32 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
favour ; so no person could complain of having been iU re
ceived. Jermyn was displeased that she had made no advances to
him, without considering that she had no leisure for it ; his
pride was offended ; but the attempt which he made to take
her from the rest of her lovers was very ill-advised.
Thomas Howard, brother to the Earl of Carlisle,* was one of
them ; there was not a braver, nor a more genteel man in
England ; and though he was of a modest demeanour, and his
manners appeared gentle and pacific, no person was more
spirited nor more passionate. Lady Shrewsbury, inconsider
ately returning the first ogles of the invincible Jermyn, did
not at aU make herself more agreeable to Howard ; that, how
ever, she paid httle attention to ; yet, as she designed to keep
fair with him, she consented to accept an entertainment which
he had often proposed, and which she durst no longer refuse.
A place of amusement, caUed Spring Garden,f was fixed upon
for the scene of this entertainment.
* Thomas Howard, fourth son of Sir William Howard. He married
Mary, Duchess of Richmond, daughter of George Villiers, Duke of
Buckingham, and died 1678. — See Madame Dunois" Memoirs of the
English Court, 8vo., 1708.
t This place appears, from the description of its situation in tbe
following extract, and in some ancient plans, to have been near Charing-
Cross, probably where houses are now built, though still retaining the
name of gardens. The entertainments usually to be met with there are
thus described by a contemporary writer : " The manner is, as the
company returns, (i.e. from Hyde Park,) to alight at the Spring Garden,
so called iu order to the park, as our TuUeries is to the course : the
enclosure not disagreeable, for the solemness of the grove, the warbling
of the birds, and as it opens into the spacious walks at St. James's ;
but the company walk in it at such a rate, you would think all the
ladies were so many Atalantas contending with their wooers ; and, my
lord, there was no appearance that I should prove the Hippomenes, who
could with much ado keep pace with them : but as last as they run.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 133
As soon as the party was settled, Jermyn was privately
informed of it. Howard had a company in the regiment of
guards, and one of the soldiers of his company played pretty
weU on the bagpipes ; this soldier was therefore at the enter
tainment Jermyn was at the garden, as by chance ; and,
puffed up with his former successes, he trusted to his vic
torious ah for accomplishing this last enterprise ; he no sooner
appeared on the walks, than her ladyship showed herseh upon
the balcony.
I know not how she stood affected to her hero ; but Howard
did not fancy him much ; this did not prevent his coming up
stairs upon the first sign she made to him ; and not content
with acting the petty tyrant, at an entertainment not made
for himself, no sooner had he gained the soft looks of the fair
one, than he exhausted aU his common-place, and aU his stock
of low irony, in railing at the entertainment, and ridiculing the
music. Howard possessed but httle raillery, and stiU less patience;
three times was the banquet on the point of being stained
with blood; but three times did he suppress his natural

they stay there so .ong as if they wanted not time to finish the race ;
for it is usual here to find some of the young company till midnight ;
and the thickets of the garden seem to be contrived to all advantages
of gallantry, after they have refreshed with the collation, which is here
seldom omitted, at a certain cabaret, in the middle of this paradise,
where the forbidden fruits are certain trifling tarts, neats' tongues,
salicious meats, and bad Rhenish, for which the gallants pay sauce, as
indeed they do at all such houses throughout England ; for they think
it a piece of frugality beneath them to bargain or account for what they
eat in any place, however unreasonably imposed upon." — Character of
England, 12mo., 1659, p. 56, written, it is said, by John Evelyn, Esq.
Spring Garden is the scene of intrigue in many of our comedies of this
period.

134 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
impetuosity, in order to satisfy his resentment elsewhere with
greater freedom.
Jermyn, without paying the least attention to his iU-
humour, pursued his point, continued talking to Lady
Shrewsbury, and did not leave her until the repast was ended.
He went to bed, proud of this triumph, and was awakened
next morning by a cbaUenge. He took for his second GUes
Rawlings, a man of intrigue, and a deep player. Howard took
DiUon, who was dexterous and brave, much of a gentleman,
and, unfortunately, an intimate friend to Rawlings.
In this duel fortune did not side with the votaries of love :
poor Rawlings was left stone dead ; and Jermyn, having re
ceived three wounds, was carried to his uncle's, with very
little signs of hfe.
While the report of this event engaged the courtiers accord
ing to theh several interests, the Chevaher de Grammont was
informed by Jones, his friend, his confidant, and his rival, that
there was another gentleman very attentive to Mrs. Middle-
ton : this was Montagu,* no very dangerous rival on account
of his person, but very much to be feared for his assiduity,
* Ralph Montagu, second son of Edward, Lord Montagu. He was
master of the horse to the queen, and, in 1669, was sent ambassador-
extraordinary to France ; on his return from whence, in January, 1672,
be was sworn of the privy-council. He afterwards became master of
the great wardrobe, and was sent a second time to France. He took a
very decided part in the prosecution of the popish plot, in 1678 ; but on
the sacrifice of his friend, Lord Russell, he retired to Montpelief during
the rest of King Charles's reign. He was active at the Revolution, and
soon after created Viscount Monthermer, and Earl of Montagu. In
1705 he became Marquis of Monthermer, and Duke of Montagu. He
died 7th March, 1709, in his 73rd year, leaving behind him the charac
ter of a very indulgent parent, a kind and bountiful master, a very
hearty friend, a noble patron of men of merit, and a true assertor of
English liberty.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. i3S
the acuteness of his wit, and for some other talents which are
of importance, when a man is once permitted to display
them. There needed not half so much to bring into action all
the Chevalier's vivacity, in point of competition: vexation
awakened in him whatever expedients the deshe of revenge,
malice, and experience, could suggest, for troubling the designs
of a rival, and tormenting a mistress. His first intention was
to return her letters, and demand his presents, before he began
to tease her ; but, rejecting this project, as too weak a revenge
for the injustice done him, he was upon the point of conspiring
the destruction of poor Mrs. Middleton, when, by accident, he
met with Miss Hamilton. From this moment ended aU his
resentment against Mrs. Middleton, and all his attachment to
Miss Warmestre : no longer was he inconstant : no longer were
his wishes fluctuating: this object fixed them ah; and, of
aU his former habits, none remained, except uneasiness and
jealousy. Here his first care was to please ; but he very plainly saw,
that to succeed he must act quite in a different manner to that
which he had been accustomed to.
The family of the Hamiltons, being very numerous, hved in
a large and commodious house, near the court : the Duke of
Ormond's family was continuaUy with them ; and here persons
of the greatest distinction in London, constantly met: the
Chevaher de Grammont was. here received in a manner agree
able to his merit and quahty, and was astonished that he had
spent so much time in other places ; for, after having made
this acquaintance, he was desirous of no other.
AU the world agreed that Miss Hanhlton* was worthy of
* Elizabeth, sister of the author of these Memoirs, and daughter of
Sir George Hamilton, fourth son of James, the first Earl of Aberturu,

i36

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.

the most ardent and sincere affection : nobody could boast a
nobler birth, nothing was more charming than her person.

by Mary, third daughter of Thomas, Viscount Thurles, eldest son of
Walter, eleventh Earl of Ormond, and sister to James, the first Duke
of Ormond. She marrieii Philibert, Count of Grammont, the hero of
these Memoirs, by whom she had two daughters : Claude Charlotte,
married, 3rd April, 1694, to Henry, Earl of Stafford ; and another, who
became superior, or abbess, of the Cauonesses in Lorraine.

«-»«

CHAPTER SEVENTH.
HE FALLS IN LOVE WITH MISS HAMILTON. — VARIOUS ADVEN
TURES AT THE BALL IN THE QUEEN'S DRAWING-ROOM.
— CURIOUS VOYAGE OF HIS VALET-DE-CHAMBRE TO AND
FROM PARIS.

HE Chevaher de Grammont, never satisfied in
his amours, was fortunate without being be
loved, and became jealous without having an
attachment.
Mrs. Middleton, as we have said, was going to experience
what methods he could invent to torment, after having ex
perienced his powers of pleasing.
He went in search of her to the queen's drawing-room,
where there was a baU ; there she was ; but fortunately for
her, Miss HamUton was there likewise. It had so happened,
that of ah the beautiful women at Court, this was the lady
whom he had least seen, and whom he had heard most com
mended ; this, therefore, was the first time that he had a close
view of her, and he soon found that he had seen nothing at
«39

i4o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
court before this instant; he asked her some questions, to
which she rephed ; 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 aU her movements ;
and she was the original after which all the ladies copied in
theh taste and air of dress. Her forehead was open, white,
and smooth ; her hair was well set, and feU with ease into
that natural order which it is so difficult to imitate. Her
complexion was possessed of a certain freshness, not to be
equaUed by borrowed colours : her eyes were not large, but they
were hvely, and capable of expressing whatever she pleased :
her mouth was fuU 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
ah, her carriage, and the numberless graces dispersed over her
whole person, made the Chevalier de Grammont not doubt
but that she was possessed of every other qualification. Her
mind was a proper companion for such a form : she did not
endeavour to shine in conversation by those sprightly sallies
which only puzzle ; and with stiU greater care she avoided
that affected solemnity in her discourse, which produces
stupidity ; but, without any eagerness to talk, she just said
what she ought, and no more. She had an admirable discern
ment in distinguishing between sohd and false wit ; and far
from making an ostentatious display of her abilities, she was
reserved, though very just in her decisions : her sentiments
were always noble, and even lofty to the highest extent, when
there was occasion ; nevertheless, she was less prepossessed
with her own merit than is usually the case with those who

MISS HAMILTON AND THE CHEVALIER DE GRAMMONT DANCING IN
THE QUEEN'? DRAWING ROOM. Page 140.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 141
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 endeavour to please and engage
her in his turn : his entertaining wit, his conversation, lively,
easy, and always distinguished by novelty, constantly gained
him attention ; but he was much embarrassed to find that pre
sents, which so easily made their way in his former method
of courtship, were no longer proper in the mode which, for
the future, he was obUged to pursue.
He had an old valet-de-chambre, called Termes, a bold
thief, and a stiU more impudent liar : he used to send this man
from London every week, on the commissions we have before
mentioned ; but after the disgrace of Mrs. Middleton, and the
adventure of Miss Warmestre, Mr. Termes was only employed
in bringing his master's clothe3 from Paris, and he did not
always acquit himself with the greatest fidelity in that em
ployment, as will appear hereafter.
The queen was a woman of sense, and used aU her endea
vours to please the king, by that kind obliging behaviour
which her affection made natural to her : she was particularly
attentive in promoting every sort of pleasure and amusement
especially such as she could be present at herself.
She had contrived, for this purpose, a splendid masquerade,
where those, whom she appointed to dance, had to represent
different nations; she aUowed some time for preparation,
during which we may suppose, the tahors, the mantua makers,
and embroiderers, were not idle : nor were the beauties, who
were to be there, less anxiously employed; however, Miss
HamUton found time enough to invent two or three little

142 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
tricks, in a conjuncture so favourable, for turning into ridicule
the vain fools of the court. There were two who were very
eminently such : the one was Lady Muskerry, who had
married her cousin-german ; and the other a maid of honour
to the Duchess, called Blague.*
The first, whose husband most assuredly never married her
for beauty, was made hke the generality of rich heiresses, to
whom just nature seems sparing of her gifts, in proportion as
they are loaded with those of fortune : she had the shape of a
woman big with child, without being so ; but had a very good
reason for limping ; for, of two legs uncommonly short, one
was much shorter than the other. A face suitable to this de
scription gave the finishing stroke to this disagreeable figure.
Miss Blague was another species of ridicule : her shape
was neither good nor bad : her countenance bore the ap
pearance of the greatest insipidity, and her complexion was
the same all over ; with two little hollow eyes, adorned with
white eye-lashes, as long as one's finger. With these attrac
tions she placed herself in ambuscade to surprise unwary
* It appears, by Ghamberlayne's Anglice Notitia, 1669, that this lady,
or perhaps her sister, continued one of the duchess's maids of honour at
that period. The list, at that time, was as follows : — 1. Mrs. Arabella
Churchill. 2. Mrs. Dorothy Howard. 3. Mrs. Anne Ogle. 4. Mrs.
Mary Blague. The mother of the maids then was Mrs. Lucy Wise.
Miss Blague performed the part of Diana, in Crown's Calisto, acted at
court in 1675, and was then styled late maid of honour to the queen.
Lord Orford, however, it should be observed, calls her Henrietta Maria,
daughter of Colonel Blague. It appears she became the wife of Sir
Thomas Tarborough, of Snaith, in Yorkshire. She was also, he says,
sister of the wife of Sydney, Lord Godolphin. That nobleman married,
according to Collins, in his peerage, Margaret, at that time maid of
honour to Katherine, Queen of England, fourth daughter, and one of
the co-heirs of Thomas Blague, Esq., groom of the bedchamber to
Charles I. and Charles II., colonel of a regiment of foot, and governor
of "Wallingford during the civil wars, and governor of Yarmouth and
Languard Fort after the Restoration.,

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 143
hearts ; but she might have done so in vain, had it not been
for the arrival of the Marquis de Brisacier. Heaven seemed
to have made them for each other : he had in his person and
manners every requisite to dazzle a creature of her character :
he talked eternaUy, without saying anything, and in his
dress exceeded the most extravagant fashions. Miss Blague
beheved that aU this finery was on her account ; and the
Marqui3 beheved that her long eyelashes had never taken
aim at any but himself : everybody perceived theh inclina
tion for each other ; but they had only conversed by mute
interpreters, when Miss Hamilton took it into her head to
intermeddle in theh affairs.
She was willing to do everything in order, and therefore
began with her cousin Muskerry, on account of her rank.
Her two darling foibles were dress and dancing. Magnifi
cence of dress was intolerable with her figure ; and though
her dancing was still more insupportable, she never missed a
baU at court : and the queen had so much complaisance for
the pubhc, as always to make her dance ; but it was impossi
ble to give her a part in an entertainment so important and
splendid as this masquerade: however, she was dying with
impatience for the orders she expected.
It was in consequence of this impatience, of which Mi^
Hamilton was informed, that she founded the design of di
verting herseh at the expense of this siUy woman. The
queen sent notes to those whom she appointed to be present,
and described the manner in which they were to be dressed.
Miss Hamilton wrote a note exactly in the same manner to
Lady Muskerry, with directions for her to be dressed in the
Babylonian fashion.
She assembled her counsel to advise about the means of
sending it : this cabinet was composed of one of her brothers

144 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
and a sister, who were glad to divert themselves at the ex
pense of those who deserved it. After having consulted some
time, they at last resolved upon a mode of conveying it into
her own hands. Lord Muskerry was just going' out, when she
received it: he was a man of honour, rather serious, very
severe, and a mortal enemy to ridicule. His wife's deformity
was not so intolerable to him, as the ridiculous figure she
made upon aU occasions. He thought that he was safe in
the present case, not believing that the queen would spoh her
masquerade by naming Lady Muskerry as one of the dancers ;
nevertheless, as he was acquainted with the passion his wife
had to expose herseh in pubhc, by her dress and dancing, he
had just been advising her very seriously to content 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 httle similarity there was
between her figure, and that of persons to whom dancing and
magnificence in dress were aUowable. His sermon concluded
at last, by an express prohibition to solicit a place at this en
tertainment, which they had no thoughts of giving her ; but
far from taking his advice in good part, she imagined that he
was the only person who had prevented the queen from doing
her an honour she so ardently deshed ; and as soon as he was
gone out, her design was to go and throw herseh at her Ma
jesty's feet to demand justice. She was in this very dis
position when she received the biUet : three times did she
kiss it ; and without regarding her husband's injunctions, she
immediately got into her coach in order to get information of
the merchants who traded to the Levant, in what manner the
ladies of quahty dressed in Babylon.
The plot laid for Miss Blague was of a different kind : she
had such faith in her charms, and was so confident of their

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. i4S
effects, that she could believe anything. Brisacier, whom she
looked upon as desperately smitten, had wit, which he set off
with common-place talk, and with httle sonnets : he sung out
of tune most methodicaUy, and was continuaUy exerting one
or other of these happy talents : the Duke of Buckingham did
all he could to spoil him, by the praises he bestowed both
upon his voice and upon his wit.
Miss Blague, who hardly understood a word of French,
regulated herseh upon the Duke's authority, in admiring the
one and the other. It was remarked, that aU the words
which he sung to her were in praise of fair women, and that
always taking this to herseh, she cast down her eyes in ac
knowledgment and consciousness. It was upon these obser
vations they resolved to make a jest of her, the first oppor
tunity. While these httle projects were forming, the king, who
always wished to oblige the Chevaher de Grammont, asked
him, if he would make one at the masquerade, on condition
of being Miss Hamilton's partner ? He did not pretend to
dance sufficiently weU for an occasion hke the present ; yet
he was far from refusing the offer : " She," said he, " of aU the
favours you have been pleased to show me, since my arrival,
I feel this more sensibly than any other; and to convince
you of my gratitude, I promise you aU 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 honour, which made the courtiers begin to pay
respect to her. The king was very weU pleased at this
pleasantry, and having thanked him for so necessary an
offer : " Monsieur le Chevaher," said he, " in what style do
you intend to dress yourself for the bah ? I leave you the
choice of aU countries." " If so," said the Chevaher, " I wiU

146 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
dress after the French manner, in order to disguise myself;
for they already do me the honour to take me for an English
man in your city of London. Had it not been for this, I
should have wished to have appeared as a Roman ; but for
fear of embroiling myself with Prince Rupert,* who so
warmly espouses the interests of Alexander against Lord
Thanet,f who declares himself for Caesar, I dare no longer
think of assuming the hero : nevertheless, though I may
dance awkwardly, yet, by observing the tune, and with a
httle alertness, I hope to come off pretty weU ; besides, Miss
Hamilton wiU take care that too much attention shaU not be
paid to me. As for my dress, I shaU send Termes off to
morrow morning ; and if I do not show you at his return the
most splendid habit you have ever seen, look upon mine as
the most disgraced nation in your masquerade."
Termes set out with ample instructions, on the subject of
his journey : and his master, redoubling his impatience on an
occasion like the present, before the courier could be landed,
began to count the minutes in expectation of his return : thus
was he employed until the very eve of the baU ; and that was
* Grandson of James the First, whose actions during the civil wars
are well known. He was born 19th December, 1619, and died at his
house in Spring Gardens, November 22, 1682. Lord Clarendon says of
him, that " he was rough and passionate, and loved not debate : liked
what was proposed, as he liked the persons who proposed it ; and was
so great an enemy to Digby and Colepepper, who were only present in
the debates of the war with the officers, that he crossed all they pro
posed."— History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. 554. He is supposed to have
invented the art of mezzotinto.— See Note, post.
t 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. 147
the day that Miss Hamilton and her httle society, had fixed
for the execution of theh 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 yeUow riband, the palest
she could find, to which she added this note :
" You were the other day more charming than aU the fair
women in the world : you looked yesterday stiU more fair
than you did the day before : if you go on, what wiU become
of my heart ? But it is a long time since that has been a
prey to your pretty httle young wild boar's eyes* ShaU
you be at the masquerade to-morrow ? But can there be any
charms at an entertainment, at which you are not present ?
It does not signify : I shaU know you in whatever disguise
you may be : but I shaU be better informed of my fate, by
the present I send you : you wiU wear knots of this riband
in your hah ; and these gloves wiU 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 deshed her to walk into her cabi
net. As soon as they were there : " I deshe your secrecy for
what I am going to teU you," said Lady Muskerry. " Do not
you wonder what strange creatures men are ? Do not trust
to them, my dear cousin : my Lord Muskerry, who, before our
* 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' eyet.

148 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
marriage, could have passed whole days and nights in seeing
me dance, thinks proper now to forbid me dancing, and says
it does not become me. This is not aU : he has so often rung
in my ears the subject of this masquerade, that I am obhged to
hide from him the honour the queen has done me, in inviting
me to it. However, I am surprised I am not informed who
is to be my partner : but if you knew what a plague it is, to
find out, in this cursed town, in what manner the people of
Babylon dress, you would pity me for what I have suffered
since the time I have been appointed : besides, the cost which
it puts me to is beyond aU imagination."
Here it was that Miss Hamhton's inclination to laugh,
which had increased in proportion as she endeavoured to
suppress it, at length overcame her, and broke out in an im
moderate fit : Lady Muskerry took it in good humour, not
doubting but it was the fantastical conduct of her husband
that she was laughing at. Miss Hamilton told her that aU
husbands were much the same, and that one ought not to be
concerned at their whims ; that she did not know who was to
be her partner at the masquerade ; but that, as she was named,
the gentleman named with her would certainly not fail to
attend her ; although she could not comprehend why he had
not yet declared himself, unless he likewise had some fantas
tical spouse, who had forbid him to dance.
This conversation being finished, Lady Muskerry. went away
in great haste, to endeavour to learn some news of her partner.
Those who were accomphces in the plot were laughing very
heartily at this visit, when Lord Muskerry paid them one in
his turn, and taking Miss HamUton aside : " Do you know,"
said he, "whether there is to be any baU in the city to
morrow ?" " No," said she ; " but why do you ask ?" " Be
cause," said he, "lam informed that my wife is making great

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 149
preparations of dress. I know very weU she is not to be at
the masquerade : that I have taken care of ; but as the devU
is in her for dancing, I am veiy much afraid that she wiU be
affording some fresh subject for ridicule, notwithstanding all
my precautions : however, if it was amongst the citizens, at
some private party, I should not much mind it."
They satisfied him as weU as they could, and having dis
missed him, under pretence of a thousand things they had to
prepare for the next day, Miss HamUton thought herseh at
liberty for that morning, when in came Miss Price, one of the
maids of honour to the Duchess* This was just what she
was wishing for : This lady and Miss Blague had been at va
riance some time, on account of Duncan,-f- whom Miss Price had
drawn away from the other ; and hatred stiU subsisted between
these two divinities.
Though the maids of honour were not nominated for the
masquerade, yet they were to assist at it ; and, consequently,
were to neglect nothing to set themselves off to advantage.
Miss Hamilton had stiU another pair of gloves of the same
sort as those she had sent to Miss Blague, which she made a
present of to her rival, with a few knots of the same riband,
which appeared to have been made on purpose for her, brown
as she was. Miss Price returned her a thousand thanks, and
" Our author's memory here fails him : Miss Price was maid of honour
to the queen. Mr. Granger says, "there was a Lady Price, a fine
woman, who was daughter of Sir Edmond Warcup, concerning whom
6ee Wood's Fasti Oxon. ii., 184. Her father had the vanity to think
that Charles II. would marry her, though he had then a queen. There
were letters of his wherein he mentioned, that "his daughter was one
night and t'other with the king, and very graciously received by
him." — History of England, vol. iv., p. 338.
1 1 believe this name should be written Dongan. Lord Orford says,
of this house were the ancient Earls of Limerick.

150 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
promised to do herseh the honour of wearing them at the ball.
" You wiU oblige me if you do," said Miss HamUton, " but if
you mention that such a trifle as this comes from me, I shaU
never forgive you ; but," continued she, "do not go and rob
poor Miss Blague of the Marquis Brisacier, as you aheady
have of Duncan : I know very weU that it is whoUy in your
power : you have wit : you speak French : and were he once
to converse with you ever so httle the other could have no pre
tensions to him." This was enough : Miss Blague was only
ridiculous and coquettish : Miss Price was ridiculous, coquet
tish, and sometliing else besides.
The day being come, the court, more splendid than ever,
exhibited aU its magnificence at this masquerade. The com
pany were aU met except the Chevaher de Grammont : every
body was astonished that he should be one of the last at such
a time, as his readiness was so remarkable on every occasion ;
but they were 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 extra
ordinary with respect to him : in vain had he the finest point-
lace, with the largest and best powdered peruke imaginable :
his dress, magnificent enough for any other purpose, was not
at aU proper for this entertainment.
The king immediately took notice of it : " Chevaher," 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 ?" " She,"
said the Chevaher de Grammont, " this is the history of my
dress, and of Termes, my messenger." At these words the
baU, ready to begin, was suspended : the dancers making a
circle around the Chevaher de Grammont, he continued his
story in the foUowing manner :

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 151
" It is now two days since this feUow ought to have been
here, according to my orders and his protestations : you may
judge of my impatience aU this day, when I found he did not
come : at last, after I had heartily cursed him, about an hour
ago he arrived, splashed aU over from head to foot, booted up
to the waist, and looking as if he had been excommunicated :
' Very weU, Mr. Scoundrel,' said I, 'this is just hke you, you
must be waited for to the very last minute, and it is a miracle
that you are arrived at aU.' 'Yes, faith,' said he, 'it is a
miracle. You are always grumbhng : I had the finest suit in
the world made for you, which the Duke de Guise himself was
at the trouble of ordering.' ' Give it me then, scoundrel,' said
I. ' Sir,' said he, ' if I did not employ a dozen embroiderers
upon it, who did nothing but work day and night, I am a
rascal: I never left them one moment.' 'And where is it
traitor ?' said I : * do 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 aU 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, swaUowed up : what can I say more V ' What !
was the packet-boat cast away then ?' said I. ' Oh ! indeed,
sir, a great deal worse, as you shaU see,' answered he : ' I was
within hah a league of Calais yesterday morning, and I was
resolved to go by the sea-side, to make greater haste ; but, in
deed, they say very true, that nothing is hke the highway ;
for I got into a quicksand, where I sunk up to the chin.' 'A
quicksand,' said I, ' near Calais ?' ' Yes, sir/ said he, ' and
such a quicksand that, the devU take me, if they saw anything
but the top of my head when they pulled me out : as for my

152 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
horse, fifteen men could scarce get him out ; but the portman
teau, where I had unfortunately put your clothes, could never
be found : it must be at least a league under ground.'
"This, she," continued the Chevaher de Grammont, "is the
adventure, and the relation which this honest gentleman has
given me of it. I Bhould certainly have killed him, but I was
afraid of making Miss HamUton wait, and I was deshous of
giving your Majesty immediate advice of the quicksand, that
your couriers may take care, to avoid it."
The "King was ready to spht his sides with laughing, when
the Chevaher de Grammont, resuming the discourse, "apro
pos, sire," said he, " I had forgot to teU you, that, to increase
my ill-humour, I was stopped, as I was getting out of my
chair, by the devU of a phantom in masquerade, who would
by aU means persuade me that the queen had commanded me
to dance with her ; and as I excused myself with the least
rudeness possible, she charged me to find out who was to be
her partner, and desired me to send him to her immediately •
so that your Majesty wiU do weU to give orders about it ; for
she has placed herseh in ambush in a coach, to seize upon aU
those who pass through WhitehaU However, I must tell you,
that it is worth whUe to see her dress ; for she must have at
least sixty eUs of gauze and silver tissue about her, not to
mention a sort of a pyramid upon her head, adorned with a
hundred thousand baubles."
This last account surprised aU the assembly, except those
who had a share in the plot. The queen assured them, that
aU she had appointed for the baU were present ; and the king,
having paused some minutes : " I bet," said he, " that it is the
Duchess of Newcastle."* "And I," said Lord Muskerry,
• This fantastic lady, as Lord Orford properly calls her, was the
youngest daughter of Sir Charles Lucas, and had been one of the maids

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 153
coming up to Miss HamUton, " wiU bet it is another fool ; for
I am very much mistaken if it is not my wife."
The king was for sending to know who it was, and to bring
her in : Lord Muskerry offered himself for that service, for the
reason aheady mentioned ; and it was very weU he did so.
Miss Hamilton was not sorry for this, knowing very weU that
he was not mistaken in his conjecture ; the jest would have
gone much farther than she intended, if the Princess of Baby
lon had appeared in aU her glory.
The baU was not very weU executed, if one maybe aUowed
the expression, so long as they danced only slow dances ; and
yet there were as good dancers, and as beautiful women in this
assembly, as were to be found in the whole world : but as theh
number was not great, they left the French, and went to coun
try dances. When they had danced some time, the king
thought fit to introduce his auxiliaries, to give the others a
httle respite ; the queen's and the duchess's maids of honour
were therefore caUed 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 yeUow
than saffron: her hah was stuffed with the citron-coloured
riband, which she had put there out of complaisance ; and, to
of honour to Charles the First's queen, whom she attended when forced
to leave England. At Paris she married the Duke of Newcastle, and
continued in exile with him until the restoration. After her return to
England, she lived entirely devoted to letters, and published many
volumes of plays, poems, letters, &c. 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 honour in waiting during
the night, who was often called up to register the duchess's conceptions.
These were all of a literary kind ; for her grace left no children.

iS4 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
inform Biisacier of his fate, she raised often to her head her
victorious hands, adorned with the gloves we have before men
tioned : but, if they were surprised to see her in a head-dress
that made her look more wan than ever, she was very differ
ently surprised to see Miss Price partake with her in every
particular of Brisacier's present : her surprise soon turned to
jealousy; for her rival had not faUed to join in conversation
with him, on account of what had been insinuated to her the
evening before ; nor did Brisacier faU to return her first ad
vances, without paying the least attention to the fair Blague,
nor to the signs which she was tormenting herself to make
him, to inform him of his happy destiny.
Miss Price was short and thick, and consequently no dancer,
the Duke of Buckingham, who brought Brisacier forward as
often as he could, came to deshe him, on the part of the king,
to dance with Miss Blague, without knowing what was then
passing in this nymph's heart : Brisacier excused himself, on
account of the contempt that he had. for country dances:
Miss Blague thought that it was herseh that he despised; and,
seeing that he was engaged in conversation with her mortal
enemy, she began to dance, without knowing what she was
doing. Though her indignation and jealousy were sufficiently
remarkable to divert the court, none but Miss HamUton and
her accomplices, understood the joke perfectly: their pleasure
was quite complete ; for Lord Muskerry returned, stiU more
confounded at the vision, of which the Chevaher de Grammont
had given the description. He acquainted Miss HamUton,
that it was Lady Muskerry herself, a thousand times more
ridiculous than she had ever been before, and that he had had
an immense .trouble to get her home, and place a sentry at her
chamber door.
The reader may think,.perhaps, that we have dwelt too Ion"

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 155
on these trifling incidents ; perhaps he may be right. We
wiU therefore pass to others.
Everything favoured the Chevaher de Grammont in the
new passion which he entertained : he was not, however,
without rivals ; but, what is a great deal more extraordinary, he
was without uneasiness : he was acquainted with theh under
standings, and no stranger to Miss HamUton'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 weU acquainted with his cha
racter to doubt of bis inclinations for her. He did not think
it proper to declare such sentiments as were not fit for Miss
HamUton to hear ; but he talked to her as much as he could,
and ogled her with great assiduity. As hunting was his
favourite diversion, that sport employed him one part of the
day, and he came home generaUy 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 teU her of what lay heavy on his heart, he entertained
her with what he had in his head : telling her miracles of the
cunning of foxes and the mettle of horses ; giving her accounts
of broken legs and arms, dislocated shoulders, and other
curious and entertaining adventures ; after which, his eyes
told her the rest, till such time as sleep interrupted theh con
versation ; for these tender interpreters could not help some
times composing themselves in the midst of their oghng.
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 herseh, as far as respect would admit her ; on the
contrary, as her highness had an affection and esteem for Miss
HamUton, she never treated her more graciously than on the
present occasion.

156 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
The two RusseUs, uncle* and nephew,-f were two other of
the Chevaher de Grammont's rivals : the uncle was full
seventy, and had distinguished himseh by his courage and
fidehty in the civU wars. His passions and intentions, with
regard to Miss Hamilton, appeared both at once ; but his
magnificence only appeared by halves in those gaUantries
which love inspires. It was not long since the fashion of high
crowned hats had been left off, in order to faU into the other
extreme. Old B,usseU, amazed at so terrible a change, resolved
to keep a medium, which made him remarkable : he was stiU
more so, by bis constancy for cut doublets, which he supported
a long time after they had been universaUy suppressed ; but,
what was more surprising than aU, was a certain mixture of
avarice and liberality, constantly at war with each other, ever
since he had entered the hst with love.
His nephew was only of a younger brother's family, but
was considered as his uncle's heir ; and though he was under
the necessity of attending to his uncle for an estabhshment,
and stiU more so of humouring him, in order to get his estate,
he could not avoid his fate. Mrs. Middleton showed him a
sufficient degree of preference ; but her favours could not
secure him from the charms of Miss HamUton : his person
would have had nothing disagreeable in it, if he had but left
it to nature ; but he was formal in aU his actions, and sUent
even to stupidity ; and yet rather more tiresome when he did
speak. The Chevalier de Grammont, very much at his ease in all
• RusseU, third Bon 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 Russel. He was standard-bearer to Charles IL. and died un
married, 1674. He was elder brother to Russell, Earl of Orford.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 157
these competitions, engaged himself more and more in his
passion, without forming other designs, or conceiving other
hopes, than to render himseh agreeable. Though his passion
was openly declared, no person at court regarded it otherwise
than as a habit of gaUantry, which goes no farther than to do
justice to merit.
His monitor, Saint Evremond, was quite of a different
opinion; and finding, that, besides an immense increase of
magnificence and assiduity, he regretted those hours which
he bestowed on play ; that he no longer sought after those
long and agreeable conversations they used to have together ;
and that this new attachment everywhere robbed him of
himseh: " Monsieur le Chevaher," said he, " methinks that for some
time you have left the town beauties and their lovers in per
fect repose : Mrs. Middleton makes fresh conquests with im
punity, and wears your presents, under your nose, without
your taking the smaUest notice. Poor Miss Warmestre has
been very quietly brought to bed in the midst of the court,
without your having even said a word about it. I foresaw it
plain enough, Monsieur le Chevaher, you have got acquainted
with Miss Hamilton, and, what has never before happened to
you, you are reaUy in love ; but let us consider a httle what
may be the consequence. In the first place, then, I believe,
you have not the least intention of seducing her : such is her
birth and merit, that if you were in possession of the estate
and title of your family, it might be excusable in you to offer
yourself upon honourable terms, however ridiculous marriage
may be in general ; for, if you only wish for wit, prudence, and
the treasures of beauty, you could not pay your addresses to
a more proper person : but for you, who possess only a very
moderate share of those of fortune, you cannot pay your
addresses more improperly.

158 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
"For your brother Toulongcon, whose disposition I am
acquainted with, wiU not have the complaisance to die, to
favour your pretensions : but suppose you had a competent
fortune for you both — and that is supposing a good deal — are
you acquainted with the dehcacy, not to say capriciousness,
of this fair one about such an engagement ? Do you know
that she has had the choice of the best matches in England ?
The Duke of Richmond paid his addresses to her first ; but
though he was in love with her, stiU he was mercenary : how
ever, the king, observing that want of fortune was the only
impediment to the match, took that article upon liimseh, out
of regard to the Duke of Ormond, to the merit and birth of
Miss Hamilton, and to her father's services ; but, resenting
that a man, who pretended to be in love, should bargain like
a merchant, and likewise reflecting upon his character in the
world, she did not think that being Duchess of Richmond was
a sufficient recompense for the danger that was to be feared
from a brute and a debauchee.
" Has not little Jermyn, notwithstanding his uncle's great
estate, and his own brilliant reputation, tailed in his suit to
her ? And has she ever so much as vouchsafed to look at
Henry Howard,* who is upon the point of being the first duke
in England, and who is already in actual possession of aU the
estates of the house of Norfolk ? I confess that he is a clown,
but what other lady in aU England would not have dispensed
with his stupidity and his disagreeable person, to be the first
duchess in the kingdom, with twenty-five thousand a year?
* This was Henry Howard, brother to Thomas, Earl of Arundel, who
by a special act of parliament, in 1664, was restored to the honours of
' the family, forfeited by the attainder of his ancestor, in the time of
Queen Elizabeth. On the death of his brother, in 1667, he became
Duke of Norfolk, and died January 11, 1683-4, at his hous>e in Arundel
Street, aged 55.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 159
" To conclude, Lord Falmouth has told me himseh, that he
has always looked upon her as the only acquisition wanting
to complete his happiness : but, that even at the height of the
splendour of his fortune, he never had had the assurance to
open his sentiments to her ; that he either felt in himseh too
much weakness, or too much pride, to be satisfied with obtain
ing her solely by the persuasion of her relations ; and that,
though the first refusals of the fair on such occasions are not
much minded, he knew with what an ah she had received the
addresses of those whose persons she did not like. After this,
Monsieur le Chevaher, consider what method you intend to
pursue : for, if you are in love, the passion wUl stiU increase,
and the greater the attachment, the less capable wiU you be
of making those serious reflections that are now in your
power." " My poor philosopher," answered the Chevaher de Gram
mont, " you understand Latin very weU, you can make good
verses, you understand the course, and are acquainted with
the nature of the stars in the firmament ; but, as for the lu
minaries of the terrestrial globe, you are utterly unacquainted
with them : you have told me nothing about Miss HamUton,
but what the king told me three days ago. That she has
refused the savages you have mentioned is aU in her favour :
if she had admitted theh 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
wUl have my tutor Saint Evremond himseh to be the first
man to commend me for it. As for an establishment, I shah
make my peace with the king, and wiU sohcit him to make
her one of the ladies of the bed-chamber to the queen : this he
wiU grant me. Toulongeon wiU die, without my assistance *
* Count de Toulongeon was elder brother to Count Grammont, who,

160 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
and notwithstanding aU his care ; and Miss Hamilton will have
Semeat* with the Chevalier de Grammont, as an indemni
fication for the Norfolks and Richmonds. Now, have you any
thing to advance against this project ? For I wiU bet you
an hundred louis, that everything wiU happen as I have fore
told it."
A.t this time the king's attachment to Miss Stewart was so
public, that every person perceived, that if she was but pos
sessed of art, she might become as absolute a mistress over his
conduct as she was over his heart. This was a fine opportu
nity for those who had experience and ambition. The Duke
of Buckingham formed the design of governing her, in order
to ingratiate himself with the king : God knows what a go
vernor he would have been, and what a head he was possessed
of, to guide another ; however, he was the properest man in
the world to insinuate himseK with Miss Stewart : she was
chUdish in her behaviour, and laughed at everything, and her
taste for frivolous amusements, though unaffected, was only
allowable in a girl about twelve or thirteen years old. A
child, however, she was, in every other, respect, except playing
with a doU : blind man's buff was her most favourite amuse
ment: she was building castles of cards, while the deepest
play was going on in her apartments, where you saw her sur
rounded by eager courtiers, who handed her the cards, or
young architects, who endeavoured to imitate her.
She had, however, a passion for music, and had some taste
for singing. The Duke of Buckingham, who built the finest
towers of cards imaginable, had an agreeable voice : she had
' by his death, in 1679, became, according to St. Evremond, on that
event, one of the richest noblemen at court.— See St. Evremond's Works,
vol. ii., p. 327.
• A country seat belonging to the family of the Cranimonts.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 161
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 turning into ridiciUe whatever was ridiculous in
other people, and in taking them off, even in their presence,
without theh perceiving it : in short, he knew how to act ah
parts with so much grace and pleasantry, that it was difficult
to do without him, when he had a mind to make himself
agreeable ; and he made himseh so necessary to Miss Stewart's
amusement, that she sent aU over the town to seek for him,
when he did not attend the king to her apartments.
He was extremely handsome,* and still thought himself
* George Vi'liers, the second Duke of Buckingham, was born 30th
January, 162'.. 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 ridi
culed that witty king and his solemn chancellor : when he plotted the
ruin of his country with a cabal of bad ministers, or, equally unprin
cipled, supported its cause with bad patriots, — one laments that such
parts should have been devoid of every virtue : but when Alcibiades
turns chemist i when he is a real bubble and a visionary miser ; when
ambition is but a frolic ; when the worst designs are for the foolishest
ends, — contempt extinguishes all reflection on his character.''
" The portrait of this duke has been drawn by four masterly hands.
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
resemblance." — Royal Authors, vol. ii., p. 78.
Of these four portraits, the second is in the text ; the other three will
complete the character of this extraordinary nobleman.
Bishop Burnet says, he " was a man of noble presence. He had a
great liveliness of wit, and a 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 the finding the philosopher's stone, which
had the effect that attends on all such men as he was, when they
are drawn in, to lay out for it. He had no principles of religion.

162 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
much more so than he really was : although he had a great deal
of discernment, yet his vanity made him mistake some civilities

virtue, or friendship : — pleasure, frolic, or extravagant diversion was
all that he laid to heart. He was true to nothing ; for he was not true
to himself. He had no steadiness nor conduct : he could keep no
secret, nor execute any design without spoiling it. He could never fix
his thoughts, nor govern his estate, though then the greatest in England.
He was bred about the king, and for mauy years he had a great ascend
ency over him ; but he spake of him to all persons with that contempt,
that at last he drew a lasting disgrace upon himself. And he at length
ruined both body and mind, fortune and reputation equally. The mad
ness of vice appeared in his person in very eminent instances ; since at
last he became contemptible and poor, sickly, and sunk in his parts, as
well as in all other respects ; so that his conversation was as much
avoided as ever it had been courted." — History of His Own Timet,
vol. i., p. 137.
Dryden's character of him is in these limes :
" In the first rank of these did Zimri stand ;
A man so various, that he seem'd to be
Not one, but all mankind's epitome :
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong ;
Was everything by starts, and nothing long.
But, in the course of one revolving moon,
Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ;
Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking,
Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Blest madman, who could every hour employ
With something new to wish or to enjoy !
Railing and praising were his usual themes,
And both, to show his judgment, in extremes;
So over violent, or over civil,
That every man with him was god or devil.
In squandering wealth was his peculiar art ;
Nothing went unrewarded but desert.
Beggar'd by fools, whom still he found too late ;
He had his jest, and they had his estate :
He laugh'd himself from court, then sought relief
By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief ;

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 163
as intended for his person, which were only bestowed on his
wit and droUery: in short, being seduced by too good an
For, spite of him, the weight of business fell
On Absalom and wise Ahitophel :
Thus wicked but in will, of means bereft,
He left not faction, but of that was left."
Absalom and Ahitophel.
Pope describes the 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,
Wbere 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 Clievedeu'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, thi3 lord of useless thousands ends.e
Moral Essays, Epist. iii., 1. 299.
He died 16th April, 1688, at the house of a tenant, at Kirby Moor
Side, near Helmsly, in Yorkshire, aged 61 years, and was buried in
Westminster Abbey.
Though this note is already long, the reader will hardly complain at
an extension of it, by the addition of one more character of this licen
tious nobleman, written by the able pen of the author of Hudibras.
" The Duke of Bucks is one that has studied the whole body of vice.
His parts are disproportionate to the whole, and, like a monster, he has
more of some, and less of others, than he should have. He has pulled
down all that nature raised in him,, and built himself up again after a
model of his own. He has dammed up all those lights that nature
made into the noblest prospects of the world, and opened other little
blind loop-holes backward, by turning day into night, and night into
day. His appetite to his pleasures is diseased and crazy, hke the pica
in a woman, that longs to eat that which was never made for food, or
S

164 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
opinion of his own merit, he forgot his first project and his
Portuguese mistress, in order to pursue a fancy in which he
mistook himseh ; 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, aU his designs upon her : however, the
familiarity she had procured him with the king, opened the
way to those favours to which he was afterwards advanced.
a girl in the green sickness, that eats chalk and mortar. Perpetual
surfeits of pleasure have filled his mind with bad and vicious humours,
(as well as his body with a nursery of diseases,) which makes him affect
new and extravagant ways, as being sick and tired with the old. Con
tinual wine, women, and music, put false value upon things, which, by
custom, become habitual, and debauch his understandingso,thathe retains
no right notion nor sense of things. And as the same dose of the same
physic has no operation on those that are much used to it, so bis plea
sures require larger proportion of excess and variety, to render him
sensible of them. He rises, eats, and goes to bed by the Julian account,
long after all others that go by the new style, and keeps the same hours
with owls and the antipodes. He is a great observer of the Tartar
customs, and never eats till the great cham, having dined, makes pro
clamation that all the world may go to dinner. He does not dwell in
his house, but haunts it like an evil spirit, that walks all night, to dis
turb the family, and never appears by day. He lives perpetually be
nighted, runs out of his life, and loses his time as men do their ways in
the dark : and as blind men are led by their dogs, so is he governed by
some mean servant or other, that relates to his pleasures. He is as in
constant as the moon which he lives under ; and although he does
nothing but advise with his pillow all day, he is as great a stranger to
himself as he is to the rest of the world. His mind entertains all things
very freely that come and go, but, like guests and strangers, they are
not welcome if they stay long. This lays him open to all cheats, quacks,
and impostors, who apply to every particular humour while it lasts,
and afterwards vanish. Thus, with St. Paul though in a different
sense, he dies daily, and only lives in the night He deforms nature
while he intends to adorn her, Jike Indians that hang jewels in their
lips and noses. His ears are perpetually drilled with a fiddlestick. He
endures pleasures with less patience than other men do their pains."—
Bulla's Posthumous Works, vol. ii, p. 72.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 165
Lord Arlington* took up the project which the Duke of
Buckingham had abandoned, and endeavoured to gain posses
sion of the mind of the mistress, in order to govern the master.
A man of greater merit and higher bhth than himseh might,
however, have been satisfied with the fortune he had already
acquired. His first negotiations were during the treaty of the
Pyrenees : and though he was unsuccessful in his proceedings
for his employer, yet he did not altogether lose his time ; for
he perfectly acquired, in his exterior, the serious air and pro
found gravity of the Spaniards, and imitated pretty weU theh
tardiness in business : he had a scar across his nose, which
was covered by a long patch, or rather by a smaU plaister, in
form of a lozenge.
Scars in the face commonly give a man a certain fierce and
* Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington, principal secretary of state, and
lord-chamberlain to King Charles II : a nobleman whose practices,
during that reign, have not left his character free from reproach. Mr.
Macpherson says of him, that he "supplied the place of extensive
talents by an artful management of such as he possessed. Accom
modating in his principles, and easy in his address, he pleased when
he was known to deceive ; and his manner acquired to him a kind of
influence where he commanded no respect. He was little calculated
for bold measures, on account of his natural timidity ; and that defect
created an opinion of his moderation, that was ascribed to virtue. His
facility to adopt new measures was forgotten in his readiness to acknow
ledge the errors of the old. The deficiency of his integrity was for
given in the decency of his dishonesty. Too weak not to be super-*
stitious, yet possessing too much sense to own his adherence to the church
of Rome, he lived a protestant in his oxitward profession, but he died
a catholic. Timidity was the chief characteristic of his mind j and
that being known, he was even commanded by cowards. He was the
man of the least genius of the party : but he had most experience in
that slow and constant current of business, which, perhaps, suits affairs
of state better than the violent exertions of men of great parts.'' —
Original Papers, voL i. Lord Arlington died July 28, 1685. See s
character of him in Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham's Works.

166 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
martial ah, which sets him off to advantage ; but it was quite
the contrary with him, and this remarkable plaister so weU
suited bis mysterious looks, that it seemed an addition to his
gravity and self-sufficiency.
Arlington, under the mask of this compound countenance
where great earnestness passed for business, and impenetrable
stupidity for secrecy, had given himseh the character of a great
pohtician ; and no one having leisure to examine him, he was
taken at his word, and had been made minister and secretary
of state, upon the credit of his own importance.
His ambition soaring stiU above these high stations, after
having provided himseh 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 herseh in the situation to which it had pleased God
and her virtue to raise her. But he was only in the preface
of his speech, when she recoUected that he was at the head of
those whom the Duke of Buckingham used to mimic ; and as
his presence and his language exactly revived the ridiculous
ideas that had been given her of him, she could not forbear
bursting out into a fit of laughter in his face, so much the
more violent as she had for a long time struggled to sup
press it.
The minister was enraged : his pride became his post, and
his punctilious behaviour merited aU the ridicule which could
be attached to it : he quitted her abruptly, with aU the fine
advice he had prepared for her, and was almost tempted to
carry it to Lady Castlemaine, and to unite himseh 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 mis-

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 167
tresses; but bis prudence conquered his resentments; and
thinking only how to enjoy with pleasure the blessings of
fortune, he sent to HoUand for a whe,* in order to complete
his felicity.
HamUton was, of aU the courtiers, the best qualified to
succeed in an enterprise, in which the Duke of Buckingham
and Lord Arlington had miscarried: he was thinking upon
it; but bis natural coquetry traversed his intentions, and
made him neglect the most advantageous prospects in the
world, in order unnecessarUy to attend to the advances and
aUurements thrown out to him by the Countess of Chester
field. This was one of the most agreeable women in the
world : she had a most exquisite shape, though she was not
very taU; her complexion was extremely fair, with aU the
expressive charms of a brunette; she had large blue eyes,
very tempting and aUuring ; her manners were engaging ; her
wit hvely and amusing ; but her heart, ever open to tender
sentiments, was neither scrupulous in point of constancy, nor
nice in point of sincerity. She was daughter to the Duke of
Ormond,-f- and Hamilton, being her cousin-german, 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 en
couragement, he entertained no other thoughts than how to
* This lady was Isabella, daughter to Lewis de Nassau, Lord
Beverwaert, son to Maurice, Prince of Orange, and Count Nassau.
By her, Lord Arlington had an only daughter, named Isabella, who
married, August 1, 1672, Henry, Earl of Euston, son to King Charles
IL, by Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, created 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.
t And second wife of the Earl of Chesterfield. She survived the
adventures here related a very short time, dying in July, 1665, at the
age of 25 years.

168 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
please her, without considering her fickleness, or the obstacles
he had to encounter. His intention, which we mentioned
before, of establishing himseh 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 aU that was necessary to inflame the
king's passions, without exposing her virtue by granting the
last favours ; but the eagerness of a passionate lover, blessed
with favourable opportunities, is difficult to withstand, and
stiU more difficult to vanquish; and Miss Stewart's virtue
was almost exhausted, when the queen was attacked with a
violent fever, which soon reduced her to extreme danger.
Then it was that Miss Stewart was greatly pleased with
herseh 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
universaUy paid her, contributed not a httle to increase them.
The queen was given over by her physicians :* the few Por
tuguese women that had not been sent back to theh own
country fiUed the court with doleful cries; and the good
nature of the king was much affected with the situation in
which he saw a princess, whom, though he did not love her,
yet he greatly esteemed. She loved him tenderly, and think
ing that it was the last time she should ever speak to him,
* This happened in October, 1663. Lord Arlington, in a letter to
the Duke of Ormond, dated the 17th of that month, says, "the con
dition of the queen is much worse, and the physicians give 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
she told him, that the concern he showed for her death, was
enough to make her quit hfe with regret ; but that not pos
sessing charms sufficient to merit his tenderness, she had at
least the consolation in dying to give place to a consort who
might be more worthy of it, and to whom heaven, perhaps,
might grant a 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 supposing she would take him at his word, he
conjured her to hve for his sake. She had never yet dis
obeyed him ; and, however dangerous sudden impulses may
be, when one is between hfe and death, this transport of joy,
which might have proved fatal to her, saved her hfe, and the
king's wonderful tenderness had an effect, for which every
person did not thank heaven in the same manner.
Jermyn had now for some time been recovered of his
wounds : however, Lady Castlemaine, finding his health in as
deplorable a condition- as ever, resolved to regain the king's
heart, but in vain: for notwithstanding the softness of her
tears, and the violence of her passions, Miss Stewart whoUy
possessed it. During this period the court was variously en
tertained: sometimes there were promenades, and at others
the court beauties sallied out on horseback, and to make
attacks with theh charms and graces, sometimes successfuUy,
sometimes otherwise, but always to the best of theh abilities :
at other seasons there were such shows on the river, as the
city of London alone can afford.
The Thames washes the sides of a large though not" a mag
nificent palace of the kings of Great Britain :* from the stahs
of this oalace the court used to take water in the summer
* This was Whitehall, which was burnt down, except the banquet-*
iug-house, 4th January, 1698.— See Harleian Miscellany, vol vi. p. 367.

170 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
evenings, when the heat and dust prevented their walking in
the park : an infinite number of open boats, filled with the
court and city beauties, attended the barges, in which were
the Royal Family : collations, music, and fireworks, completed
the scene. The Chevalier de Grammont always made one of
the company, and it was very seldom that he did not add
something of his own invention, agreeably to surprise by
some unexpected stroke of magnificence and gaUantry. Some
times he had complete concerts of vocal and instrumental
music, which he privately brought from Paris, and which
struck up on a sudden in the midst of these parties; some
times he gave banquets, which hkewise came from France,
and which, even in the midst of London, surpassed the king's
coUations. These entertainments sometimes exceeded, as
others feU short of his expectations, but they always cost
him an immense deal of money.
Lord Falmouth was one" of those who had the greatest
friendship and esteem for the Chevalier de Grammont: this
profusion gave him concern, and as he often used to go and
sup with him without ceremony, one day finding only Saint
Evremond there, and a supper fit for half a dozen guests, who
had been invited in form : " You must not," said he, address
ing himseh to the Chevalier de Grammont, " be obliged to me
for this visit. I come from the king's coucher, where aU the
discourse was about you; and I can assure you that the
manner in which the king spoke of you, could not afford you
so much pleasure as I myseh felt upon the occasion. You
know very weU, that he has long since offered you his good
offices with the King of France ; and for my own part," con
tinued he, smiling, " you know very weU that I would sohcit
• him so to do, if it was not through fear of losing you as soon
as your peace is made ; but, thanks to Miss Hamilton, you

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 171
are in no great haste : however, I am ordered by the king,
my master, to acquaint you, that while you remain here,
until you are restored to the favour of your sovereign, he
presents you with a pension of fifteen hundred Jacobus's : it
is indeed a trifle, considering the figure the Chevaher de
Grammont makes among us ; but it will assist him," said he,
embracing him, " to give us sometimes a supper."
The Chevaher de Grammont received, as he ought, the
offer of a favour he did not think proper to accept: "I ac
knowledge," said he, " the king's bounty in this proposal, but
I am stiU more sensible of Lord Falmouth's generosity in it ;
and I request him to assure his Majesty of my perfect grati
tude : the king, my master, wUl not suffer me to want, when
he thinks fit to recaU me ; and while I continue here, I wiU
let you see that I have wherewithal to give my Enghsh friends
now and then a supper."
At these words, he caUed for his strong box, and showed
him seven or eight thousand guineas in sohd gold. Lord
Falmouth, willing to improve to the Chevaher's advantage
the refusal of so advantageous an offer, gave Monsieur de
Comminge,* then ambassador at the Enghsh court, an account
of it ; nor did Monsieur de Comminge faU to represent pro
perly the merit of such a refusal to the French court.
Hyde Park, every one knows, is the promenade of London :f
* This gentleman was ambassador in London, from the court of
France, during the years 1663, 1664, and 1665. Lord Clarendon,
speaking of him, describes him as something capricious in his nature,
which made him hard to treat with, and not always vacant at the
hours himself assigned ; being hypochondriac, and seldom sleeping
without opium. — Continuation of Clarendon's Life, p. 263.
f The writer already quoted gives this description of the entertain
ments of the place, at this period : —
" I did frequently, in the spring, accompany my lord N into a

i72 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
nothing was so much in fashion, during the fine weather, as
that promenade, which was the rendezvous of magnificence
and beauty : every one, therefore, who had either sparkling
eyes, or a splendid equipage, constantly repaired thither; and
the king seemed pleased with the place.
Coaches with glasses* were then a late invention: the
ladies were afraid of being shut up in them : they greatly
preferred the pleasure of showing almost theh whole persons,
to the conveniences of modern coaches : that which was made

field near the town, which they call Hyde Park ; the place is not un
pleasant, and which they use as our course ; but with nothing of that
order, equipage, and splendour; being such an assembly of wretched jades,
and hackney coaches, as, next a regiment of carmen, there is nothing
approaches the resemblance. This park was (it seems) used by the late
king and nobility for the freshness of the air, and the goodly prospect ;
but it is that which now (besides all other excises) they pay for here,
in England, though it be free in all the world besides; every coach
and horse which enters buying his mouthful, and permission of the
publican who has purchased it ; for which the entrance is guarded
with porters and long staves." — A Character of England, as it was lately
presented to a Nobleman of France, 12mo, 1659, p. 54.
* Coaches were first introduced into England in the year 1564.
Taylor, the water poet, (Works, 1630, p. 240,) says,— "One William
Boonen, a Dutchman, brought first the use of coaches hither ; and the
said Boonen was Queen Elizabeth's coachman ; for, indeed, a coach was
a strange monster in those days, and the sight of them put both horse
and man into amazement." Dr. Percy observes, they were first drawn
by two horses, and that it was the favourite Buckingham, who, about
1619, began to draw with six horses. About the same time, he intro
duced the sedan. The UUimum Vale of John Carleton, 4to, 1663,
p. 23, will in a great measure, ascertain the time of the introduction of
glass coaches. He says, " I could wish her (i. e. Mary Carleton's) coach
(which she said my lord Taff bought for her in England, and sent it
over to her, made of the new fashion, with glasse, very stately ; and
her pages and lacquies were of the same livery,) was come for
me,"&c.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 173
for the king not being remarkable for its elegance, the Cheva
lier de Grammont was of opinion that something ingenious
might be invented, which should partake of the ancient
fashion, and likewise prove preferable to the modern; he
therefore sent away Termes privately with all the necessary
instructions to Paris : the Duke of Guise was likewise charged
with this commission ; and the courier, having by the favour
of Providence escaped the quicksand, in a month's time
brought safely over to England the most elegant and mag
nificent calash that had ever been seen, which the Chevaher
presented to the king.
The Chevaher de Grammont had given orders that fifteen
hundred louis should be expended upon it ; but the Duke of
Guise, who was his friend, to oblige him, laid out two thou
sand. AU the court was in admhation at the magnificence
of the present ; and the king, charmed with the Chevaher's
attention to everything which could afford him pleasure,
failed not to acknowledge it : he would not, however, accept
a present of so much value, but upon condition that the
Chevaher should not refuse another from him.
The queen, imagining that so splendid a carriage might
prove fortunate for her, wished to appear in it first, with the
Duchess of York. Lady Castlemaine, who had seen them in
it, thinking that it set off a fine figure to greater advantage than
any other, desired the king to lend her this wonderful calash
to appear in it the first fine day in Hyde Park : Miss Stewart
had the same wish, and requested to have it on the same day.
As it was impossible to reconcUe these two goddesses, whose
former union was turned into mortal hatred, the king was
very much perplexed.
Lady Castlemaine was with chUd, and threatened to mis
carry, if her rival was preferred; Miss Stewart threatened.

i74 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
that she never would be with cnUd, if her request was not
granted. This menace prevaUed, and Lady Castlemaine's rage
was so great, that she had almost kept her word ; and it
was beheved that this triumph cost her rival some of her
innocence.
i The queen dowager, who, though she had no share in these
broUs, had no objection to them, and as usual being diverted
with this circumstance, she took occasion to joke with the
Chevaher de Grammont, for having thrown this bone of con
tention among such competitors ; and did not faU to give
him, in the presence of the whole court, those praises which
so magnificent a present deserved : " But how comes it," said
she, " that you have no equipage yourself, though you are
at so great an expense ? for I am told that you do not keep
even a single footman, and that one of the common runners in
the streets hghts you home with a stinking link." " Madam,"
said he, " the Chevaher de Grammont hates pomp : my link-
boy, of whom you speak, is faithful to my service; and
besides, he is one of the bravest feUows 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 surrounded by a dozen of them. The
first time I became acquainted with them, I retained aU that
offered me theh services ; so that when I arrived at White-
haU, I had at least two hundred about my chair : the sight
was new ; for those who had seen me pass with this iUumina-
tion, asked whose funeral it was. These gentlemen, however,
began fighting about some dozen shillings I had thrown
among them then; and he whom your Majesty mentions
having beaten three or four of his companions, I retained him
for his valour. As for the parade of coaches and footmen, I
despise it : I have sometimes had five or six valets-de-chambre

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.

175

at once, without having a single servant in hvery, except my
chaplain Poussatin." "Howl" said the queen, bursting out
laughing, "a chaplain in your hvery! he surely was not a
priest V " Pardon me, madam," said he, " and the first priest
in the world for dancing the Biscayan jig." " Chevaher,"
said the king, "pray teU us the history of your chaplain
Poussatin."

MISS HAMILTON', COUNTESS DE GRAMMONT.

CHAPTER EIGHTH.
FUNNY ADVENTURE OF THE CHAPLAIN POUSSATIN. — THE
STOUT OE THE SIEGE OE LERIDA. — MARRIAGE OE THE
DUKE OF YORK, AND OTHER DETAILS ABOUT THE
ENGLISH COURT.

IR," 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 aU the Guzmans put together, and more gaUant than
aU the Abencerrages of Granada : he suffered us to make our
first approaches to the place without the least molestation.
The Marshal de Grammont, whose maxim it was, that a
governor who at first makes a great blustering, and burns his
suburbs in order to make a noble defence, generally makes a
very bad one, looked upon Gregorio de Brice's politeness as
no good omen for us ; but the prince, covered with glory, and
elated with the campaigns of Rocroy, Norlinguen, and Fri
bourg, to insult both the place and the governor, ordered the
179

i8o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
trenches to be mounted at noon-day by his own regiment, at
the head of which marched four-and-twenty fiddlers, as if it
had been to a wedding.
"Night approaching, we were aU in high spirits: our violins
were playing soft airs, and we were comfortably regaling our
selves : God knows how we were joking about the poor gov
ernor and his fortifications, both of which we promised our
selves to take in less than twenty-four hours. This was going
on in the trenches, when we heard an ominous cry from the
ramparts, repeated two or three times, of, ' Alerte on the walls!'
This cry was foUowed by a discharge of cannon and musketry,
and this discharge by a vigorous saUy, which, after having
fiUed 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 favour him with, as unfortunately he had
no violins ; but that if the music of last night was not dis
agreeable to him, he would endeavour to continue it as long
as he did him the honour to remain before the place. The
Spaniard was as good as his word ; and as soon as we heard,
' Alerte on the waUs,' we were sure of a saUy, that cleared our
trenches, destroyed our works, and killed the best of our offi
cers and soldiers. The prince was so piqued at it, that, con
trary to the opinion of the general officers, he obstinately
persisted in carrying on a siege which was hke 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
himseh those airs which governors generaUy do on such oc
casions, made no other saUy, than sending a respectful com
pliment to the prince. Signor Brice set out not long after for
Madrid, to give an account of his conduct, and to receive the

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. x8i
recompense he had merited. Your majesty perhaps wiU be
deshous to know what reception poor Brice met with, after
having performed the most briUiant action the Spaniards could
boast of in aU the war — he was confined by the inquisition."
" How !" said the Queen Dowager, " confined by the inqui
sition for his services!" "Not altogether for his services,"
said the Chevaher ; " but without any regard to his services,
he was treated in the manner I have mentioned for a httle
affair of gaUantry, which I shaU relate to the ELing presently.
" The campaign of Catalonia being thus ended, we were re
turning home, not overloaded with laurels ; but as the Prince
de Cond^ had laid up a great store on former occasions, and
as he had still great projects in his head, he soon forgot this
trifling misfortune : we did nothing but joke with one another
during the march, and the prince was the first to ridicule the
siege. We made some of those rhymes on Lerida, which were
sung aU over France, in order to prevent others more severe ;
however, we gained nothing by it, for notwithstanding we
treated ourselves freely in our own baUads, others were com
posed in Paris in which we were ten times more severely
handled. At last we arrived at Perpignan upon a holy-day :
a company of Catalans, who were dancing in the middle of
the street, out of respect to the prince came to dance under
his windows : Monsieur Poussatin, in a httle black jacket,
danced in the middle of this company, as if, he was reaUy mad.
I immediately recognized him for my countryman, from his
manner of skipping and frisking about: the prince was
charmed with his humour and activity. After the dance, I
sent for him, and inquhed who he was: ' A poor priest, at
your service, my lord,' said he : ' my name is Poussatin, and
Beam is my native country : I was going into Catalonia to
serve in the infantry, for, God be praised, I can march very

18a MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
weU on foot ; but since the war is happUy concluded, if youi
lordship pleases to take me into your service, I would foUow
you everywhere, and serve you faithfuUy.' ' Monsieur Pous
satin,' said I, ' my lordship has no great occasion for a chap^
lain ; but since you are so weU disposed towards me, I wiU
take you into my service.'
" The Prince de Conde1, who was present at this conver
sation, was overjoyed at my having a chaplain. As poor
Poussatin was in a very tattered condition, I had no time
to provide him with a proper habit at Perpignan ; but giving
him a spare hvery of one of the Marshal de Grammont's
servants, I made him get up behind the prince's coach, who
was hke to die with laughing every time he looked at poor
Poussatin's uncanonical mien in a yeUow hvery.
" As soon as we arrived in Paris, the story was told to the
Queen, who at first expressed some surprise at it : this, how
ever, did not prevent her from wishing to see my chaplain
dance; for in Spain it is not altogether so strange to see
ecclesiastics dance, as to see them in hvery.
" Poussatin performed wonders before the Queen; but as
he danced with great sprighthness, she could not bear the
odour which his violent motions diffused around her room :
the ladies hkewise began to pray for rehef ; for he had almost
entirely got the better of aU the perfumes and essences with
which they were fortified : Poussatin, nevertheless retired with
a great deal of applause, and some louis d'or.
" Some time afterwards I procured a small benefice in the
country for my chaplain, and I have since been informed
that Poussatin preached with the same ease in his viUage as
he danced at the wedding of his parishioners."
The "King was exceedingly diverted at Poussatin's history ;
and the Queen was not much hurt at his having been put in

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 183
hvery: the treatment of Gregorio Brice offended her far
more ; and being deshous to justify the court of Spain, with
respect to so cruel a proceeding : " Chevaher de Grammont,"
said she, " what heresy did Governor Brice wish to introduce
into the state ? What crime against rehgion 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 httle amorous frohc, ill-timed in
deed ; but poor Brice meant no harm : a school-boy would
not have been whipped for such a fault, in the most severe
coUege 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 deshed to know the particulars of the adven
ture ; and the Chevaher gratified his curiosity, as soon as the
Queen and the rest of the court were out of hearing. It
was very entertaining to hear him teU 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 per
sons at the Enghsh court who had merited his indignation :
RusseU was sometimes the subject of his ridicule, but he
treated him far more tenderly than he usuaUy did a rival.
This RusseU was one of the most furious dancers in all
England, I mean, for country dances : he had a coUection of
two or three hundred in print, aU of which he danced at sight ;
and to prove that he was not an old man, he sometimes danced
untU he was almost exhausted : his mode of dancing was like
that of his clothes, for they both had been out of fashion fuU
twenty years.
The Chevaher de Grammont was very sensible that he was
very much in love ; but though he saw very weU that it only
rendered him more ridiculous, yet he felt some concern at the

184 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
information he received, of his intention of demanding Miss
HamUton in marriage ; but his concern did not last long.
RusseU, being upon the point of setting out on a journey,
thought it was proper to acquaint his mistress with his inten
tions before his departure. The Chevaher de Grammont was
a great obstacle to the interview, he was deshous of obtaining
of her ; but being one day sent for, to go and play at Lady
Castlemaine's, RusseU seized the opportunity, and addressing
liimseh to Miss Hamilton, with less embarrassment than is
usual on such occasions, he made his declaration to her in the
foUowing manner : "lam brother to the Earl of Bedford : I
command the regiment of guards: I have three thousand
pounds a year, and fifteen thousand in ready money: all
which, madam, I come to present to you, along with my
person. One present, I agree, is not worth much without the
other, and therefore I put them together. I am advised to go
to some of the watering places for something of an asthma,
which, in aU probability, cannot continue much longer, as I
have had it for these last twenty years : if you look upon me
as worthy of the happiness of belonging to you, I shaU propose
it to your father, to whom I did not thinlr it right to apply
before I was acquainted with your sentiments : my nephew
William is at present entirely ignorant of my intention ; but
I beheve he wiU not be sorry for it, though he wUl thereby
see himseh deprived of a pretty considerable estate ; for he
has great affection for me, and besides, he has a pleasure in
paying his respects to you since he has perceived my attach
ment. I am very much pleased that he should make his
court to me, by the attention he pays to you; for he did
nothing but squander his money upon that coquet Middleton,
whUe at present he is at no expense, though he frequents the
best company in England."

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 185
Miss HamUton had much difficulty to suppress her laughter
during this harangue : however, she told him that she thought
herseh much honoured by his intentions towards her, and stiU
more obhged to him for consulting her, before he made any
overtures to her relations : " It wUl be time enough," said she,
" tD speak to them upon the subject at your return from the
waters ; for I do not think it is at aU probable that they wUl
dispose of me before that time, and in case they should be
urgent in theh solicitations, your nephew William wiU 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 Chevaher de Grammont, having heard the particulars
of this conversation, endeavoured, as weU as he could, to be
entertained with it ; though there were certain circumstances
in the declaration, notwithstanding the absurdity of others,
which did not faU to give him some uneasiness. Upon the
whole, he was not sorry for RusseU's departure ; and, assuming
an ah of pleasantry, he went to relate to the king how
Heaven had favoured him by delivering hfm from so dan
gerous a rival. " He is gone then, Chevalier," said the king.
" Certainly, sir," said he ; "I had the honour to see him em
bark in a coach, with his asthma, and country equipage, his
perruque k calotte, neatly tied with a yeUow riband, and his
old-fashioned hat covered with oh skin, which becomes him
uncommonly weU: therefore, I have only to contend with
William RusseU, 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 himseh 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

t86 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
easily in my power to counteract him in such kind of favours,
though I confess I have pretty weU paid for them."
" Since your affairs proceed so prosperously with the Rus-
seUs," said the king, " I wiU acquaint you that you are de
livered from another rival, much more dangerous, if he were
not already maraed: my brother has lately fallen in love
with Lady Chesterfield." "How many blessings at once!"
exclaimed the Chevalier de Grammont: "I have so many
obligations to him for this inconstancy, that I would wil
lingly serve him in his new amour, if namillon was not his
rival : nor wiU your majesty take it iU, if I promote the in
terests of my mistress'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 wiU not suffer men to
quarrel about bis whe, with the same patience as the com
plaisant Shrewsbury ; though he weU deserves the same fate."
Here follows a true description of Lord Chesterfield*
He had a very agreeable face, a fine head of hair, an indif
ferent shape, and a worse air ; he was not, however, deficient
in wit: a long residence in Italy had made liira ceremonious
in his commerce with men, and jealous in his connection with
women : he had been much hated by the king ; because he
* Philip, the second Earl of Chesterfield. He was constituted, in
] 662, lord-chamberlain to the queen, and colonel of a regiment of foot,
June 13, 1667. On November 29, 1C79, he was appointed lord-warden
and chief -justice of the king's forests on this side Trent, and sworn of
the privy-council, January 26, 1680. On November 6, 1682, he was made
eolonel of the third regiment of foot, which, with the rest of his pre
ferments, he resigned on the accession of James II. He lived to the
age of upwards of 80, and died, January 28, 1713, at his house, in
Bloomsbury -square.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 187
had been much beloved by Lady Castlemaine: it was re
ported that he had been in her good graces prior to her
marriage ; and as neither of them denied it, it was the more
generaUy beheved.
He had paid his devoirs to the eldest daughter of the Duke
of Ormond, while his heart was stiU taken up with his former
passion: the king's love for Lady Castlemaine, and the ad
vancement he expected from such an alliance, made him press
the match with as much ardour as if he had been passionately
in love : he had therefore married Lady Chesterfield without
loving her, and had hved some time with her in such cool
ness as to leave her no room to doubt of bis indifference.
As she was endowed with great sensibility and dehcacy, she
suffered at this contempt : she was at first much affected with
his behaviour, and afterwards enraged at it; and, when he
began to give her proofs of his affection she had the pleasure
of convincing him of her indifference.
They were upon this footing, when she resolved to cure
Hamilton, as she had lately done her husband, of aU his re
maining tenderness for Lady Castlemaine. For her it was no
difficult undertaking: the conversation of the one was dis
agreeable, from the unpohshed state of her manners, her Ul-
timed pride, her uneven temper, and extravagant humours :
Lady Chesterfield, on the contrary, knew how to heighten
her charms with aU the bewitching attractions in the power
of a woman to invent who wishes to make a conquest.
Besides aU this, she had greater opportunities of making
advances to him than to any other : she lived at the Duke
of Ormond's, at WhitehaU, where Hamilton, as was said
before, had free admittance at aU hours : her extreme cold
ness, or rather the disgust which she showed for her husband's
returning affection, wakened his natural inclination to jealousy:

x88 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
he suspected that she could not so very suddenly pa3S from
anxiety to indifference for him, without some secret object of
a new attachment ; and, according to the maxim of aU jealous
husbands, he immediately put in practice aU his experience
and industry, in order to make a discovery, which was to
destroy his own happiness.
HamUton, who knew his disposition, was, on the other
hand, upon his guard, and the more he advanced in his in
trigue, the more attentive was he to remove every degree of
suspicion from the Earl's mind : he pretended to make him
his confidant, in the most unguarded and open manner, of his
passion for Lady Castlemaine : he complained of her caprice,
and most earnestly desired his advice how to succeed with a
person whose affections he alone had entirely possessed.
Chesterfield, who was flattered with this discourse, pro
mised him his protection with greater sincerity than it had
been demanded: HamUton, therefore, was no further em
barrassed than to preserve Lady Chesterfield's reputation,
who, in his opinion, declared herseh rather too openly in his
favour : 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 receiving those of the Duke of York ; and,
what is more, made them favourable returns.
He thought that he had perceived it, as weU as every one
besides ; but he thought likewise, that aU the world was de
ceived as weU as himseh: how could he trust his own eyes,
as to what those of Lady Chesterfield betrayed for this new
rival ? He could not think if probable, that a woman of her
disposition could relish a man, whose manners had a thousand
times been the subject of their private ridicule ; but what he
judged stiU more improbable was, that she should begin

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 189
another intrigue before she had given the finishing stroke to
that in which her own advances had engaged her : however,
he began to observe her with more chcumspection, when he
found by his discoveries, that if she did not deceive him, at
least the deshe 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 re
proaches as his ought to have had a better foundation.
Lord Chesterfield had taken the same alarm; and being
convinced, from the observations he had made, that he had
found out the happy lover who had gained possession of his
lady's heart, he was satisfied ; and without teasing her with
unnecessary reproaches, he only waited for an opportunity to
confound her, before he took his measures.
After aU, how can we account for Lady Chesterfield's con
duct, unless we attribute it to the disease incident to most
coquettes, who, charmed with superiority, put in practice
every art to rob another of her conquest, and spare nothing
to preserve it.
But before we enier into the particulars of this adventure,
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 declaration It is aUowable
sometimes to drop the thread of a narrative, when real facts,
not generaUy known, give such a variety upon the digression
as to render it excusable : let us see then how those things
happened. The Duke of York's marriage* with the chanceUor'a
* The material facts in this narrative are confirmed by Lord Claren-

i9o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
daughter, was deficient in none of those circumstances which
render contracts of this nature valid in the eye of heaven :
the mutual inclination, the formal ceremony, witnesses, and
every essential point of matrimony, had been observed.
Though the bride was no perfect beauty, yet, as there were
none at the court of HoUand who echpsed her, the Duke,
during the first endearments of matrimony, was so far from
repenting of it, that he seemed only to wish for the King's
restoration that he might have an opportunity of declaring
it with splendour ; but when he saw himseh enjoying a rank
which placed him so near the throne ; when the possession
of Miss Hyde afforded him no new charms ; when England,
so abounding in beauties, displayed aU that was charming and
lovely in the court of the "fring his brother ; and when he
considered he was the only prince, who, from such superior
elevation, had descended so low, he began to reflect upon it.
On the one hand, his marriage appeared to him particularly
iU suited in every respect : he recoUected that Jermyn had
not engaged him in an intimacy with Miss Hyde, until he had
convinced him, by several different circumstances, of the
facility of succeeding: he looked upon his marriage as an
infringement of that duty and obedience he owed to the
King ; the indignation with which the court, and even the
whole kingdom, would receive the account of his marriage
presented itseh to his imagination, together with the im
possibility of obtaining the King's consent to such an act,
which for a thousand reasons he would be obliged to refuse.
On the other hand, the tears and despair of poor Miss Hyde
don. — Continuation of his Life, p. 33. It is difficult to speak of the
persons concerned in this infamous transaction without some degree of
asperity, notwithstanding they are, by a strange perversion of language,
styled, all men of honour.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 191
presented themselves; and stiU more than that, he felt a
remorse of conscience, the scruples of which began from
that time to rise up against him.
In the midst of this perplexity he opened his heart to
Lord Falmouth, and consulted with him what method he
ought to pursue : He could not have apphed 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 consent, even if the
party was a suitable match : but that it was a mere jest,
even to think of the daughter of an insignificant lawyer,
whom the favour of bis sovereign had lately made a peer of
the realm, without any noble blood, and chanceUor, without
any capacity ; that as for bis scruples, he had only to give
ear to some gentlemen whom he could introduce, who would
thoroughly inform him of Miss Hyde's conduct before he
became acquainted with her ; and provided he did not teU
them that he reaUy was married, he would soon have suffi
cient grounds to come to a determination.
The Duke of York consented, and Lord Falmouth, having
assembled both his councU 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 KUlegrew, aU men of honour ; but who infinitely
preferred the Duke of York's interest to Miss Hyde's repu
tation, and who, besides, were greatly dissatisfied, as weU
as the whole court, at the insolent authority of the prime
minister. The Duke having told them, after a sort of preamble, that
although they could not be ignorant of his affection for Miss

192 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Hyde, yet they might be unacquainted with the engagements
his tenderness for her had induced him to contract ; that he
thought himseh obhged to perform aU the promises he had
made her ; but as the innocence of persons of her age was
generaUy exposed to court scandal, and as certain reports,
whether false or true, had been spread abroad on the subject
of her conduct, he conjured them as his friends, and charged
them upon theh duty, to teU him sincerely everything they
knew upon the subject, since he was resolved to make their
evidence the rule of his conduct towards her. They aU
appeared rather reserved at first, and seemed not to dare to
give theh opinions upon an affair of so serious and delicate
a nature; but the Duke of York having renewed his in-
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 gaUery at Honslaerdyk, where the
Countess of Ossory, his sister-in-law, and Jermyn, were
playing at nine-pins, Miss Hyde, pretending to be sick,
retired to a chamber at the end of the gaUery ; that he, the
deponent, had foUowed her, and having cut her lace, to give a
greater probability to the pretence of the vapours, he had
acquitted himseh to the best of bis abilities, both to assist
and to console her.
Talbot said, that she had made an appointment with him
in the chanceUor's cabinet, whUe he was in councU; and,
that, not paying so much attention to what was upon the
table as to what they were engaged in, they had spiUed 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.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 193
Jermyn mentioned many places where he had received long
and favourable audiences : however, aU these articles of accu
sation amounted only to some dehcate famiharities, or at
most, to what is generaUy denominated the innocent part of
an intrigue; but KUlegrew, who wished to surpass these
trivial depositions, boldly declared that he had had the
honour of being upon the most intimate terms with her:
he was of a sprightly and witty humour, and had the art of
telling a story in the most entertaining manner, by the grace
ful and natural turn he could give it : he affirmed that he had
found the critical minute in a certain closet buUt over the
water, for a purpose very different from that of giving ease
to the pains of love : that three or four swans had been wit
nesses to his happiness, and might perhaps have been wit
nesses to the happiness of many others, as the lady frequently
repaired to that place, and was particularly dehghted
with it.
The Duke of York found this last accusation greatly out of
bounds, being convinced he himseh had sufficient proofs of
the contrary : he therefore returned thanks to these officious
informers for theh frankness, ordered them to be sUent for
the future upon what they had been telling him, and imme
diately passed into the King's apartment.
As soon as he had entered the cabinet, Lord Falmouth,
who had foUowed him, related what had passed to the Earl of
Ossory, whom he met in the presence chamber : they strongly
suspected what was the subject of the conversation of the two
brothers, as it was long ; and the Duke of York appeared to
be in such agitation when he came out, that they no longer
doubted that the result had been unfavourable for poor Miss
Hyde. Lord Falmouth began to be affected for her disgrace,
and to relent that he had been concerned in it. when the

194 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Duke of York told him and the Earl of Ossory to meet him
in about an hour's time at the chanceUor's.
They were rather surprised that he should have the cruelty
himself to announce such a melancholy piece of news : they
found his Royal Highness at the appointed hour in Miss
Hyde's chamber: a few tears trickled down her cheeks,
which she endeavoured to restrain. The chanceUor, leaning
against the waU, appeared to them to be puffed up with some
thing, which they did not doubt was rage and despair. The
Duke of York said to them, with that serene and pleasant
countenance with which men generaUy announce good news :
" As you are the two men of the court whom I most esteem,
I am deshous you should first have the honour of paying
your compliments to the Duchess of York : there she is."
Surprise was of no use, and astonishment was unseasonable
on the present occasion : they were, however, so greatly pos
sessed with both surprise and astonishment, that in order to
conceal it, they immediately feU on theh knees to kiss her
hand, which she gave to them with as much majesty as if she
had been used to it aU her hfe.
The next day the news was made pubhc, 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
theh intentions disappointed, were not a httle embarrassed.
Women are seldom accustomed to forgive injuries of this
nature ; and, if they promise themselves the pleasure of re
venge, when they gain the power they seldom forget it : in
•the present case, however, the fears of these petits-maitres
were theh only punishment.
The Duchess of York, being fuUy informed of all that was
said in the cabinet concerning her, instead of showing the

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. i9S
least resentment, studied to distinguish, by aU manner of
kindness and good offices, those who had attacked her in so
sensible a part ; nor did she ever mention it to . them, but
in order to praise theh zeal, and to teU them : " that nothing
was a greater proof of the attachment of a man of honour,
than his being more solicitous for the interest of his friend or
master, than for his own reputation :" a remarkable example
of prudence and moderation, not only for the fair sex, but
even for those who value themselves most upon theh philo
sophy among the men
The Duke of York, having quieted his conscience by the
declaration of his marriage, thought that he was entitled, by this
generous effort, to give way a httle to his inconstancy : he
therefore immediately seized upon whatever he could first lay
liis hands upon : this was Lady Carnegy,* who had been in
several other hands. She was stiU tolerably handsome, and
her disposition, naturaUy inclined to tenderness, did not
oblige her new lover long to languish Everything coin
cided with theh wishes for some time : Lord Carnegy, her
husband, was in Scotland ; but his father dying suddenly, he
as suddenly returned with the title of Southesk, which his
whe detested ; but which she took more patiently than she
received the news of his return. Some private intimation
had been given him of the honour that was done him in his
absence : nevertheless, he did not show his jealousy at first ;
but, as he was deshous to be satisfied of the reality of the
fact, he kept a strict watch over his wife's actions. The
Duke of York and her ladyship had, for some time, been upon
such terms of intimacy, as not to pass theh time in frivolous
amusements ; however, the husband's return obliged them to
* Anne, daughter of William, Duke of Hamilton, and wife of Robert
Carnegy, Earl of Southesk.

i9$ MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
maintain some decorum : he therefore never went to hei
house, but in form, that is to say, always accompanied by
some friend or other, to give his amours at least the ap
pearance of a visit.
About this time Talbot* returned from Portugal: this
connection had taken place during his absence ; and without
knowing who Lady Southesk was, he had been informed that
his master was in love with her.
A few days after his arrival, he was carried, merely to keep
up appearances, to her house by the duke ; and after being
introduced, and some compliments having been paid on both
sides, he thought it his duty to give his Royal Highness an
opportunity to pay his compliments, and accordingly retired
into the ante-chamber, which looked into the street, and
placed himself at the window to view the people as they

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 recoUected it tiU he was going
to his audience.
He stood sentry, as we have before said, very attentive to
his instructions, when he saw a coach stop at the door, with
out being in the least concerned at it, and stiU less, at a man
whom he saw get out of it, and whom he immediately heard
coming upstairs.
The devU, who ought to be civU upon such occasions, forgot
himseh in the present instance, and brought up Lord Southesk
m proprid persond : his Royal Highness's equipage had been
sent home, because my lady had assured him that her hus-
* Afterwards Duke of Tyrconnel.— See note on p. 222.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 197
band was gone to see a bear and a bull baiting, an entertain
ment in which he took great delight, and from whence he
seldom returned until it was very late ; so that Southesk, not
seeing any equipage at the door, httle imagined that he had
such good company in his house ; but if he was surprised to
see Talbot carelessly lolling in his wife's ante-chamber, his
surprise was soon over. Talbot, who had not seen him since
they were in Flanders, and never supposing that he had
changed his name : " Welcome, Carnegy, welcome, my good
feUow," said he, giving him his hand, " where the devU have
you been, that I have never been able to set eyes on you
since we were at Brussels ? What business brought you
here ? Do you likewise wish to see Lady Southesk ? If
this is your intention, my poor friend, you may go away
again ; for I must inform you, the Duke of York is in love
with her, and I wiU teU you in confidence, that, at this very
time, he is in her chamber."
Southesk, confounded as one may suppose, had no time to
answer aU these fine questions : Talbot, therefore, attended
him downstahs as his friend ; and, as his humble servant,
advised him to seek for a mistress elsewhere. Southesk, not
knowing what else to do at that time, returned to his coach ;
and Talbot, overjoyed at the adventure, impatiently waited
for the duke's return, that he might acquaint him with it ;
but he was very much surprised to find that the story afforded
no pleasure to those who had the principal share in it ; and
his greatest concern was, that Carnegy had changed his name,
as if only to draw him into such a confidence.
This accident broke off a commerce which the Duke of
York did not much regret ; and indeed it was happy for him
that he became indifferent ; for the traitor Southesk meditated

198 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
a revenge,* whereby, without using either assassination or
poison, he would have obtained some satisfaction upon those
who had injured him, if the connection had continued any
longer. He went to the most infamous places, to seek for the most
infamous disease, which he met with; but bis revenge was
only hah completed ; for after he had gone through every
remedy to get quit of his disease, his lady did but return him
his present, having no more connection with the person for
whom it was so industriously prepared.
Lady Robarts")- was then in the zenith of her glory ; her
* Bishop Burnet, taking notice of the Duke of York's amours, says,
" a story was set about, and generally beheved, that the Earl of South
esk, that had married a daughter of the Duke of Hamilton's, suspecting
some familiarities between the duke and his wife, had taken a sure
method to procure a disease to himself, which he communicated to his
wife, and was, by that means, sent round 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 story very solemnly." — History nf His Own Times, vol. i.,p. 319.
It is worthy of notice that the passage in the text was omitted in most
editions of Grammont, and retained in that of Strawberry-hill, in 1772.
t Lord Orford says, this lady was Sarah, daughter of John Bodville
of Bodville castle, in Caernarvonshire, wife of Robert Robarts, who
died in the lifetime of his father, and was eldest son of John, Earl of
Radnor. This, however, may be doubted. There was no Earl of Radnor
until the year 1679, which was after the date of most, if not all the
transactions related in this work; consequently, no other person, who
could be called Lord Robarts, than John, the second lord, who was
created Earl of Radnor, with whose character several of the qualities
here enumerated, particularly his age, moroseness, &c, will be found to
agree. Supposing this to be admitted, the lady will be Isabella, daughter
of Sir John Smith Knight, second wife of the above John, Lord
Robarts, whose character is thus pourtrayed by Lord Clarendon : —
" Though of a good understanding, he was of so morose a nature, that
it was no easy matter to treat with him. He had some pedantic

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 199
beauty was striking ; yet, notwithstanding the brightness of
the finest complexion, with aU the bloom of youth, and with
every requisite for inspiring deshe, she nevertheless was not
attractive. The Duke of York, however, would probably have
been successful, if difficulties, almost insurmountable, had not
disappointed his good intentions : Lord Robarts, her husband,
was an old, snarling, troublesome, peevish feUow, 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
bis eagerness, and every outward mark of tenderness he could
possibly show her ; but the watchful husband redoubling his
zeal and assiduity, as he found the approaches advance, every
art was practised to render him tractable : several attacks were
made upon his avarice and his ambition. Those who possessed
the greatest share of his confidence, insinuated to him that it
was his own fault if Lady Robarts, who was so worthy of being
at court, was not received into some considerable post, either
parts of learning, which made his other parts of judgment the worst.
He was naturally proud and imperious, which humour was increased by
an ill education ; for, excepting some years spent in the Inns of Court,
he might very justly be said to have been born and bred in Cornwall.
When lord-deputy in Ireland, he received the information of the chief
persons there so negligently, and gave his answers so scornfully, that
they besought the king that they might not be obhged 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 him to have many humours which were
very intolerable ; they who were but little acquainted with him took
him to be a man of much knowledge, and called his morosity gravity."
-—Continuation of Clarendon, p. 102.

200 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
about the queen or the duchess : he was offered to be made
Lord Lieutenant of the county where his estate was; or
to have the management of the Duke of York's revenues in
Ireland, of which he should have the entire disposal, provided
he immediately set out to take possession of his charge ; and
having accomplished it, he might return as soon as ever he
thought proper.
He perfectly weU understood the meaning of these proposals,
and was fuUy apprised of the advantages be might reap from
them : in vain did ambition and avarice hold out their aUure-
ments ; he was deaf to aU their temptations, nor could ever the
old feUow 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 pUgrimage to Saint Winifred, the vir
gin and martyr, who was said to cure women of barrenness,
he did not rest, until the highest mountains in Wales were
between his wife and the person who had designed to perform
this miracle in London, after his departure.
The duke was for some time entirely taken up with the
pleasures of the chase, and only now and then engaged in
those of love ; but his taste having undergone a change in this
particular, and the remembrance of Lady 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 herseh into his arms, as we shah see by
resuming the sequel of her adventures.
The Earl of Bristol,* ever restless and ambitious, had put
* George Digby. The account here given of the practices of this: noble
man receives confirmation from Lord Clarendon, who observes of him,
" that he had left no way unattempted to render himself gracious to the
king, by saying and doing all that might be acceptable unto him, and

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 201
in practice every art, to possess himseh of the king's favonr.
As this is the same Digby whom Count Bussy mentions in his
annals, it wiU be sufficient to say that he was not at aU
changed : he knew that love and pleasure had possession of a
master, whom he himseh governed, in defiance of the chanceUor;
thus he was continuaUy giving entertainments at his house ;
and luxury and elegance seemed to rival each other in those
nocturnal feasts, which always lead to other enjoyments. The
two Miss Brooks, his relations, were always of those parties ;
they were both formed by nature to excite love in others, as
weU as to be susceptible of it themselves ; they were just what
the king wanted : the earl, from this commencement, was be
ginning to entertain a good opinion of his project, when Lady
Castlemaine, who had lately gained entire possession of the
king's heart, was not in a humour, at that time, to share it
with another, as she did very indiscreetly afterwards, despising
Miss Stewart. As soon, therefore, as she received intimation
of these secret practices, under pretence of attending the king
in his parties, she entirely disconcerted them; so that the earl
was obliged to lay aside his projects, and Miss Brook to dis
continue her advances. The king did not even dare to think
contriving such meetings and jollities as he was pleased with." — Con
tinuation of his Life, p. 208. Lord Orford says of him, that " his life
was one contradiction. He wrote against popery, and embraced it j he
was a zealous opposer of the court, and a sacrifice to it ; was conscien
tiously converted in the midst of his prosecution of Lord Strafford, and
was most unconscientiously a prosecutor of Lord Clarendon. With
great parts, he always hurt himself and his friends ; with romantic
bravery, he was always an unsuccessful commander. He spoke for the
Test Act, though a Roman Catholic, and addicted himself to astrology on
the birthday of true philosophy."— Catalogue of Royal and Noble
Authors, voL ii., p. 25. The histories of England abound with the
adventures of this inconsistent nobleman, who died, neither loved nor
regretted by any party, in the year 1676.

202 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
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 foUowing manner.
Sir John Denham,* loaded with wealth as weU as years, had
passed his youth in the midst of those pleasures which people
at that age indulge in without restraint ; he was one of the
brightest geniuses England ever produced, for wit and humour,
and for brilliancy of composition: satirical and free in his
poems, he spared neither frigid writers, nor jealous husbands,
nor even theh wives: every part abounded with the most
poignant wit, and the most entertaining stories ; but bis most
dehcate and spirited raillery turned generaUy against matri-
* That Sir John Denham " had passed his youth in the midst of those
pleasures which people at that age indulge in without restraint,'' all his
biographers seem to admit ; but, if our 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 at
tained the age of more than fifty- three when he died. In this particular,'
I am inclined to doubt the accuracy of Wood, who omits to mention
that Sir John had a former wife, by whom he had a daughter. In the
year 1667, he appears to have been a lunatic, either real or feigned.
Lord Lisle, in a letter to Sir William Temple, dated September 26th,
says, " — poor Sir John Denham is fallen to the ladies also. He is at
many of the meetings at dinners, talks more than ever he did, and is
extremely pleased with those that seem willing to hear him, and, from
that obligation, exceedingly praises the Duchess of Monmouth and my
Lady Cavendish. If he had not the name of being mad, I believe, in
most companies, he would be thought wittier than ever he was. He
seems to have few extravagances besides that of telling stories of him
self, which he is always inclined to. Some of his acquaintance say,
that extreme vanity was the cause of his madness, as well as it iB an
»effect." — Temple's Works, vol. i, p. 484. In Butler's Posthumous Works,
vol. ii., p. 155, is an abuse of Sir John Denham, under the title of " a
Panegyric upon his recovery from his Madness."" Sir John died 19th
March, 1668, and was buried in Westminster-abbey.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 203
mony ; and, as if he wished to confirm, by his own example,
the truth of what he had written in his youth, he married, at
the age of seventy-nine, this Mi&s Brook of whom we are
speaking, who was only eighteen.
The Duke of York had rather neglected her for some time
before ; but the chcumstance of so unequal a match rekindled
his ardour ; and she, on her part, suffered him to entertain
hopes of an approaching bliss, which a thousand considerations
had opposed before her marriage : she wished to belong to the
court ; and for the promise of being made lady of the bed
chamber to the duchess, she was upon the point of making
him another promise, or of immediately performing it, if re
quired, when, in the middle of this treaty, Lady Chesterfield
was tempted, by her evU genius, to rob her of her conquest, in
order to disturb aU the world.
However, as Lady Chesterfield could not see the Duke of
York, except in pubhc 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 un
guarded ogler of his time, the whole court was informed of the
intrigue before it was weU begun.
Those who appeared the most attentive to theh conduct
were not the least interested in it. Hamilton and Lord Ches
terfield watched them narrowly; but Lady Denham, vexed
that Lady Chesterfield should have stepped in before her, took
the liberty of railing against her rival with the greatest bitter
ness. Hamilton had hitherto flattered himseh 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 consequence;

204 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
for though perhaps the heart takes no part at the beginning, it
seldom fails to be engaged in the end.
The court, as we have mentioned before, was an entire scene
of gaUantry and amusements, with aU the pohteness and mag
nificence which the inclinations of a prince naturaUy addicted
to tenderness and pleasure, could suggest : the beauties were
desirous of charming, and the men endeavoured to please : aU
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 theh amours, but
few by their constancy. There was a certain Itahan 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 brought the instrument
so much into vogue, that every person played upon it, weU or
iU; and you were as sure to see a guitar on a lady's tohet
as rouge or patches. The Duke of York played upon it toler
ably 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 guitarery at court were
trying at it; and God knows what an universal strumming
there was. The Duke of York, pretending not to be perfect
in it, desired Lord Arran to play it to him. Lady Chesterfield
had the best guitar in England. The Earl of Arran, who was
desirous of playing his best, conducted his 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

MEMOIRS OF' COUNT GRAMMONT. 205
the lady and the guitar at home :" they hkewise found there
Lord Chesterfield, so much surprised at this unexpected visit,
that it was a considerable time before he thought of rising
from his seat to receive them with due respect.
Jealousy, like a malignant vapour, now seized upon his
brain : a thousand suspicions, blacker than ink, took possession
of his imagination, and were continuaUy increasing ; for, whUst
the brother played upon the guitar to the duke, the sister
ogled and accompanied him with her eyes, as if the coast had
been clear, and no enemy to observe them. This saraband was
at least repeated twenty times: the duke declared it was
played to perfection : Lady Chesterfield found fault with the
composition ; but her husband, who clearly perceived that he
was the person played upon, thought it a most detestable
piece. However, though he was in the last agony at being
obliged to curb his passion while others gave a free scope to
theirs, he was resolved to find out the drift of the visit ; but it
was not in his power : for, having the honour to be chamber
lain to the queen, a messenger came to require his immediate
attendance on her majesty. TTia first thought was to pretend
sickness : the second to suspect that the queen, who sent for
him at such an unseasonable time, was in the plot ; but at last,
after aU the extravagant ideas of a suspicious man, and aU the
irresolutions of a jealous husband, he was obhged to go.
We may easUy imagine what his state of mind was when he
arrived at the palace. Alarms are to the jealous what disas
ters are to the unfortunate : they seldom come alone, but form
a series of persecution. He was informed that he was sent for
to attend the queen at an audience she gave to seven or eight
Muscovite ambassadors: he had scarce begun to curse the
Muscovites, when his brother-in-law appeared, and drew upon
himseh aU the imprecations he bestowed upon the embassy :

206 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
he no longer doubted his being in the plot with the two
persons he had left together, and in his heart sincerely wished
him such recompense for his good offices as such good offices
deserved. It was with great difficulty that he restrained him
seh 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 infidehty ; but before the end
of the very same day, some chcumstances occurred which
increased his suspicions, and persuaded him that they had
taken advantage of his absence, and of the honourable officious-
ness of his brother-in-law. He passed, however, that night
with tranquillity ; but the next morning, being reduced to the
necessity either of bursting or giving vent to his sorrows and
conjectures, he did nothing but think and walk about the
room until Park-time. He went to court, seemed very busy,
as if seeking for some person or other, imagining that people
guessed at the subject of his uneasiness : he avoided every
body, but at length meeting with HamUton, he thought
he was the very man that he wanted; and, having desired
him to take an airing with him in Hyde Park, he took him up
in his coach, and they arrived at the Ring, without a word
having passed between them.
HamUton, who saw him as yeUow as jealousy itself, and
particularly thoughtful, imagined that he had just discovered
what aU the world had perceived long before ; when Chester
field, after a broken, insignificant preamble, asked him how he
succeeded with Lady Castlemaine. HamUton, who very- well
saw that he meant nothing by this question, nevertheless
thanked him ; and as he was thinking of an answer : " Your
cousin," said the earl, " is extremely coquettish, and I have
some reason to suppose she is not so prudent as she ought to
be." HamUton thought the last charge a httle too severe ;

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 207
arid as he was endeavouring to refute it: "Good God 1" said
my lord, "you see, as weU as the whole court, what airs she
gives herseh: husbands are always the last people that are
spoken to about those affairs that concern them the most ; but
they are not always the last to perceive it themselves: "though
you have made me your confidant in other matters, yet I am
not at aU surprised you have concealed this from me ; but as
I flatter myself with having some share in your esteem, I
should be sorry you should think me such a fool as to be
incapable of seeing, though I am so complaisant as not to
express my sentiments : nevertheless, I find that affairs are now
carried on with such barefaced boldness, that at length I find
I shaU be forced to take some course or other. G od forbid that I
should act the ridiculous part of a jealous husband: the character
is odious; but then I do not intend, through an excess of
patience, to be made the jest of the town. Judge, therefore,
from what I am going to teU you, whether I ought to sit down
unconcerned, or whether I ought to take measures for tho
preservation of my honour.
" His royal highness honoured mo yesterday by a visit to my
wife." HamUton started at this beginning. "Yes," continued the
other, "he did give himself that trouble, and Lord Arran took
upon himseh that of bringing him : do not you wonder, that
a man of his bhth should act such a part ? What advance
ment can he expect from one who employs him in such base
services ? "But we have long known him to be one of the
silliest creatures in England, with his guitar, and his other
whims and follies." Chesterfield, after this short sketch of his
brother-in-law's merit, began to relate the observations he had
made during the visit, and asked HamUton what he thought
of his cousui Arran, who had so obligingly left them together.
" This may appear surprising to you," continued he, " but hear

208 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT
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 her
seh: you know she has ugly feet; but perhaps you are not
acquainted that she has stiU worse legs." " Pardon me," said
HamUton, within himseh: and the other continuing the des
cription : " Her legs," said his lordship, " are short and thick ;
and, to remedy these defects as much as possible, she seldom
wears any other than green stockings."
HamUton could not for his hfe imagine the drift of aU this
discourse, and Chesterfield, guessing his thoughts : " Have a
httle patience," said ho : "I went yesterday to Miss Stewart's,
after the audience of those damned Muscovites : the king
arrived there just before me ; and as if the duke had sworn to
pursue me wherever I went that day, he came in just after
me. The conversation turned upon the extraordinary appear
ance of the ambassadors. I know not where that fool Crofts
had heard that aU these Muscovites had handsome wives; and
that aU theh wives had handsome legs. Upon this the king
maintained that no woman ever had such handsome legs as
Miss Stewart ; and she, to prove the truth of his majesty's as
sertion, with the greatest imaginable ease, immediately shewed
her leg above the knee. Some were ready to prostrate them
selves, in order to adore its beauty ; for indeed none can be
handsomer ; but the duke alone began to criticise upon it. He
contended that it was too slender, and that as for himseh he
would give nothing for a leg that was not thicker and shorter,
and concluded by saying that no leg was worth anything
' without green stockings. Now this, in my opinion, was a
sufficient demonstration that he had just seen green stockings,
and had them fresh in his remembrance."

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 209
HamUton was at a loss what countenance to put on during
a narrative which raised in him nearly the same conjectures ;
he shrugged up his shoulders, and faintly said that appear
ances were often deceitful; that Lady Chesterfield had the
foible of aU beauties, who place theh merit on the number of
theh admhers ; and whatever airs she might imprudently have
given herseh, in order not to discourage his royal highness,
there was no ground to suppose that she would indulge him
in any greater liberties to engage him : but in vain was it
that he endeavoured to give that consolation to his friend
which he did not feel himseh. Chesterfield plainly perceived
he did not think of what he was saying ; however, he thought
himself much obhged to him for the interest he seemed
to take in his concerns.
Hamilton was in haste to go home to vent his spleen and
Tesentment in a letter to his cousin. The style of this biUet
was very different from those which he formerly was accus
tomed to write to her : reproaches, bitter expostulations, ten
derness, menaces, and aU the effusions of a lover who thinks
he has reason to complain, composed this epistle ; which, for
fear of accidents, he went to dehver himself.
Never did she before appear so lovely, and never did
her eyes speak so kindly to him as at this moment : his heart
quite relented ; but he was determined not to lose aU the fine
things he had said in his letter. In receiving it, she squeezed
his hand : this action completely disarmed him, and he would
have given his hfe to have had his letter again. It appeared
to him at this instant that aU the grievances he complained
of were visionary and groundless : he looked upon her hus
band as a madman and an impostor, and quite the reverse of
what he supposed him to be a few minutes before ; but this
remorse came a httle too late : he had dehvered his biUet,

210 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
and Lady Chesterfield had shewn such impatience and eager
ness to read it as soon as she had got it that aU chcumstances
seemed to consphe to justify her, and to confound him. She
managed to get quit, some way or other, of some troublesome
visitors, to shp into her closet. He thought himseh so cul
pable that he had not the assurance to wait her return : he
withdrew with the rest of the company ; but he did not dare
to appear before her the next day, to have an answer to his
letter : however, he met her at court ; and this was the first
time, since the commencement of theh amour, that he did not
seek for her. He stood at a distance, with downcast looks,
and appeared in such terrible embarrassment that his condi
tion was sufficient to raise laughter or to cause pity, when
Lady Chesterfield approaching, thus accosted him: "Confess,"
said she, " that you are in as foolish a situation as any man of
sense can be : you wish you had not written to me : you are
deshous of an answer : you hope for none : yet you equaUy
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 ah, and such a look,
as to make him beheve that it was Yenus with aU her graces
who had addressed him. He was near her when, she sat down
to cards, and as he was puzzling himseh to devise by what
means he should get this answer, she desired hfm to lay her
gloves and fan down somewhere : he took them, and with
them the biUet in question ; and as he had perceived nothing
severe or angry in the conversation he had with her, he has
tened to open her letter, and read as foUows :
" Your transports are so ridiculous that it is doing you a
favour to attribute them to an excess of tenderness, which
turns your head : a man, without doubt, must have a great
inclination to be jealous, to entertain such an idea of the per-

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 211
son you mention. Good God ! what a lover to have caused
uneasiness to a man of genius, and what a genius to have got
the better of mine ! Are not you ashamed to give any credit
to the visions of a jealous feUow 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 imposed upon you, accompanied as it is with such
pitiful chcumstances ? Since he has made you his confidant,
why did not he boast of breaking in pieces my poor harmless
guitar ? This exploit, perhaps, might have convinced you
more than aU the rest : recoUect yourself, and if you are reaUy
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 danger
ous man of the court."
HamUton was ready to weep for joy at these endearing
marks of kindness, of which he thought himseh so unworthy :
he was not satisfied with kissing, in raptures, every part of
this bUlet ; he also kissed several times her gloves and her
fan. Play being over, Lady Chesterfield received them from
his hands, and read in his eyes the joy that her bUlet had
raised in his heart. Nor was he satisfied with expressing
his raptures, only by looks : he hastened home, and wrote to
her at least four times as much How different was this
letter from the other 1 Though perhaps not so weU written ;
for one does not show so much wit in suing for pardon, as in
venting reproaches, and it seldom happens that the soft lan
guishing style of a love-letter is so penetrating as that of
invective. Be that as it may, his peace was made : theh past quarrel
gave new hfe to theh correspondence ; and Lady Chesterfield,
to make him as easy as he had before been distrustful, ex-

212 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
pressed on every occasion a feigned contempt for bis rival,
and a sincere aversion for her husband.
So great was his confidence in her, that he consented she
should show in pubhc some marks of attention to the duke,
in order to conceal as much as possible theh private intelli
gence. Thus, at this time nothing disturbed bis peace of
mind, but his impatience of finding a favourable opportunity
for the completion of his deshes : he thought it was in her
power to command it ; but she excused herseh on account of
several difficulties which she enumerated to him, and which
she was deshous he should remove by his industry and
attentions. This sUenced his complaints ; but whUst he was endeavour
ing to surmount these obstacles, still wondering how it was
possible that two persons who were so weU disposed to each
other, and who were agreed to make each other happy, could
not put theh designs in execution, accident discovered an un
expected adventure, which left him no room to doubt, either
of the happiness of his rival, or of the perfidy of his mistress.
Misfortunes often faU light when most feared; and frequently
prove heaviest when merited, and when least suspected.
HamUton was in the middle of the most tender and pas
sionate letter he had ever written to Lady Chesterfield, when
her husband came to announce to him the particulars of this
last discovery : he came so suddenly upon him, that he had
only just time to conceal his amorous epistle among his other
papers. His heart and mind were stiU so fuU 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 aU accounts.
He was, however, obhged to hsten to him, and he soon
entertained quite different sentiments: he appeared almost

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 213
petrified with astonishment, whUe the earl was relating to
him chcumstances of such an extravagant indiscretion, as
seemed to him quite incredible, notwithstanding the par
ticulars of the fact. " You have reason to be surprised at it,"
said my lord, concluding his story ; " but if you doubt the truth
of what I teU you, it wUl be easy for you to find evidence that
wUl convince you ; for the scene of theh tender famiharities
was no less pubhc than the room where the queen plays at
cards, which, whUe her majesty was at play, was, God knows,
pretty weU crowded. Lady Denham was the first who dis
covered what they thoughtwould pass unperceived in the crowd;
and you may very weU judge how secret she would keep such
a chcumstance. The truth is, she addressed herseh to me
first of aU, as I entered the room, to teU me that I should give
my whe a httle advice, as other people might take notice of
what I might see myself, if I pleased.
" Your cousin was at play, as I before told you : the duke
was sitting next to her : I know not what was become of his
hand ; but I am sure that no one could see his arm below the
elbow: I was standing behind them, just in the place that
Lady Denham had quitted : the duke turning round perceived
me, and was so much disturbed 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 wUl take care that
everybody shaU know it. I must confess to you, that my
embarrassment is so great, that I cannot find words to ex
press what I now feel : I should not hesitate one moment
what course to take, if I might be aUowed to show my re
sentment against the person who has wronged me. As for her,
I could manage her weU enough, if, unworthy as she is of
any consideration, I had not stiU some regard for an Ulus-

214 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
trious family, that would be distracted were I to resent such
an injury as it deserves. In this particular you are inte
rested yourseh: you are my friend, and I make you my
confidant in an affair of the greatest imaginable delicacy : let
us then consult together what is proper to be done in so per
plexing and disagreeable a situation."
HamUton, if possible, more astonished, and more con
founded than himseh, was far from being in a proper state
to afford him advice on the present occasion : he hstened to
nothing but jealousy, and breathed nothing but revenge ; but
these emotions being somewhat abated, in hopes that there
might be calumny, or at least exaggeration in the charges
against Lady Chesterfield, he deshed her husband to suspend
his resolutions, untU he was more fully informed of the fact ;
assuring him, however, that if he found the chcumstances
such as he had related, he should regard and consult no other
interest than his.
Upon this they parted ; and HamUton found, on the first
inquiry, thai almost the whole court was informed of the
adventure, . to which every one added something in relating
it. Vexation and resentment inflamed his heart, and by
degrees extinguished every remnant of his former passion
He might easUy have seen her, and have made her such
reproaches as a man is generaUy inclined to do on such occa
sions ; but he was too much enraged to enter into any detaU
which might have led to an explanation : he considered him
self as the only person essentiaUy injured in this affair ; for
he could never bring his mind to think that the injuries of
the husband could be placed in competition with those of the
lover. He hastened to Lord Chesterfield, in the transport of his
passion, and told him that he had heard enough to induce

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 215
him to give such advice, as he should foUow himself in the
same situation, and that if he wished to save a woman so
strongly prepossessed, and who perhaps had not yet lost aU
her innocence, though she had totaUy 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 foUow this advice, which
he had aheady considered as the only counsel a friend could
give him ; but his lady who did not suspect he had made this
last discovery of her conduct, thought he was joking with her,
when he told her to prepare for going into the country in two
days : she was the more induced to think so as it was in the
very middle of an extremely severe winter ; but she soon per
ceived that he was in earnest: she knew from the ah and
manner of her husband that he thought he had sufficient
reason to treat her in this imperious style ; and finding aU her
relations serious and cold to her complaint^ she had no hope
left in this universaUy abandoned situation but in the tender
ness of HamUton. She imagined she should hear from him
the cause of her misfortunes, of which she was stiU totaUy igno
rant, and that his love would invent some means or other to
prevent a journey, which she flattered herseh would be even
more affecting to him than to herseh; but she was expecting
pity from a crocodUe.
At last, when she saw the eve of her departure was come,
that every preparation was made for a long journey ; that she
was receiving fareweU visits in form, and that stiU she heard
nothing from HamUton, both her hopes and her patience for
sook her in this wretched situation. A few tears perhaps
might have afforded her some rehef, but she chose rather to
deny herseh that comfort, than to give her husband so much
2 A

ai6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
satisfaction. HamUton's conduct on this occasion appeared
to her unaccountable ; and as he stiU never came near her
she found means to convey to him the foUowing biUet.
" Is it possible that you should be one of those, who, without
vouchsafing to teU me for what crime I am treated hke a
slave, suffer me to be dragged from society ? What means
your silence and indolence in a juncture wherein your tender
ness ought most particularly to appear, and actively exert itseh ?
I am upon the point of departing, and am ashamed to think
that you are the cause of my looking upon it with horror, as
I have reason to believe that you are less concerned at it than
any other person : do, at least, let me know to what place I
am to be dragged ; what is to be done with me within a wU-
derness ? and on what account you, like aU the rest of the
world, appear changed in your behaviour towards a person
whom aU the world could not obhge to change with regard to
you, if your weakness or your ingratitude did not render you
unworthy of her tenderness."
This biUet did but harden his heart, and make him more
proud of his vengeance : he swaUowed down fuU draughts of
pleasure in beholding her reduced to despair, being persuaded
that her grief and regret for her departure were on account of
another person: he felt uncommon satisfaction in having a
share in tormenting her, and was particularly pleased with
the scheme he had contrived to separate her from a rival,
upon the very point perhaps of being made happy. Thus
fortified as he was against his natural tenderness, with aU the
severity of jealous resentment, he saw her depart with an in
difference which he did not even endeavour to conceal from
her : this unexpected treatment, joined to the complication of
her other misfortunes, had almost in reality plunged her into
despair.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 217
The court was filled with the story of this adventure;
nobody was ignorant of the occasion of this sudden departure,
but very few approved of Lord Chesterfield's conduct. In
England they looked with astonishment upon a man who
could be so uncivU as to be jealous of his whe ; and in the
city of London it was a prodigy, tUl that time unknown, to
see a husband have recourse to violent means, to prevent
what jealousy fears, and what it always deserves. They en
deavoured, however, to excuse poor Lord Chesterfield, as far
as they could safely do it, without incurring the pubhc odium,
by laying aU the blame on bis bad education. This made aU
the mothers vow to God that none of theh sons should ever
set a foot in Italy, lest they should bring back with them
that infamous custom of laying restraint upon theh wives.

COUNTESS OK SUTHERLAND.

OHAPTEE NINTH.

VARIOUS LOVE INTRIGUES AT THE ENGLISH COURT.

VERY man who believes that his honour depends
upon that of his wife is a fool who torments him
self, and drives her to despair ; but he who, being
naturaUy jealous, has the additional misfortune
of loving his wife, and who "expects that she should only five
for him, is a perfect madman, whom the torments of hell have
actuaUy taken hold of in this world, and whom nobody pities.
AU reasoning and observation on these unfortunate circum
stances attending wedlock concur in this, that precaution is vaiu
and useless before the evU, and revenge odious afterwards.
The Spaniards, who tyrannise over their wives, more by
custom than from jealousy, content themselves with preserving
the niceness of their honour by duennas, grates, and locks.
221

222 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
The Italians, who are wary in their suspicions, and vindictive
in their resentments, pursue a different line of conduct : some
satisfy themselves with keeping their wives under locks which
they think secure: others by ingenious precautions exceed
whatever the Spaniards can invent for confining the fair sex :
but the generality are of opinion, that in either unavoidable
danger or in manifest transgression, the surest way is to
assassinate. But, ye courteous and indulgent nations, who, far from
admitting these savage and barbarous customs, give full liberty
to your dear ribs, and commit the care of their virtue to their
own discretion, you pass without alarms or strife your peace
ful days, in aU the enjoyments of domestic indolence !
It was certainly some evU genius that induced Lord Ches
terfield to distinguish himself from his patient and good-
natured countrymen, and ridiculously to afford the world an
opportunity of examining into the particulars of an adventure
which would perhaps never have been known without the
verge of the court, and which would everywhere have been
forgotten in less than a month; but now, as soon as ever
he had turned his back, in order to march away with his
prisoner, and the ornaments she was supposed to have be
stowed upon him, God only knows what a terrible attack
there was made upon his rear : Rochester,* Middlesex,f Sed-
ley, \ Etheredge, § and all the whole band of wits, exposed
* Bishop Burnet says, he " was naturally modest, till the court cor
rupted him. His wit had in it a peculiar brightness, to which none
could ever arrive. He gave himself up to all sorts of extravagance,
and to the wildest frolics that a wanton wit could devise. He would
have gone about the streets as a beggar, and made love as a porter.
'He set up a stage as an Italian mountebank. He was for some years
always drunk ; and was ever doing some mischief. The king loved his
company, for the diversion it afforded, better than his person ; and
there was no love lost between them. He took his revenges in many

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 323
him in numberless baUads, and diverted the pubhc at his
expense.libels. He found out a footmen that knew all the court ; and he fur
nished him with a red coat and a musquet, as a sentinel, and kept him
all the winter long, every night, at the doors of such ladies as he be
lieved might be in intrigues. In the court, a sentinel is little minded,
and is believed to be posted by a captain of the guards to hinder a
combat ; so this man saw who walked about and visited at forbidden
hours. By this means Lord Rochester made many discoveries ; and
when he was well furnished with materials, he used to retire into the
country, for a month or two, to write libels. Once, being drunk, he
intended to give the king a libel that he had written on some ladies ;
but, by a mistake, he gave him one written on himself. He fell into
an ill habit of body, and, in set fits of sickness, he had deep remorses ;
for he was guilty both of much impiety and of great immoralities.
But as he recovered, he threw these off, and turned again to his for
mer ill courses. In the last year of his life, I was much with him, and
have written a book of what passed between him and me : I do verily
believe, he was then so changed, that, if he had recovered, he would
have made good all his resolutions." — History of his own Times, voh
L p. 372. On this book, mentioned by the bishop, Dr. Johnson pro
nounces the following eulogium : — that it is one " which ' the critic
ought to read for its elegance, the philosopher for its arguments, and
the. saint for its piety. It were an injury to the reader to offer him an
abridgement." — Life of Rochester. Lord Bochester died July 26, 1680.
t At this time the Earl of Middlesex was Lionel, who died in 1674.
The person intended by our author was, Charles, then Lord Buckhurst,
afterwards Earl of Middlesex, and, lastly, Duke of Dorset. He was
born January 24th, 1637. Bishop Burnet says, he " was a generous,
good-natured man. He was so oppressed with phlegm, that, till he
was a little heated with wine, he scarce ever spoke ; but he was, upon
that exaltation, a very lively man. Never was so much ill-nature in a
pen as in his, joined with so much good-aature 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 favourite, he would not give himself the
trouble that belonged to that post. He hated the court, and despised

224 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
The Chevaher de Grammont was highly pleased with these
hvely and humorous compositions ; and wherever this subject
was mentioned, never faUed to produce his supplement upon
the occasion : "It is strange," said he, " that the country, which
is httle better than a gaUows or a grave for young people, is
aUotted in this land only for the unfortunate, and not for the
guUty ! poor Lady Chesterfield, for some unguarded looks, is

the king, when he saw he was neither generous nor tender-hearted." —
History of his own Times, vol. i., p. 370. Lord Orford says of him,
tl>at "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
he did not know how it was, but Lord Dorset might do anything, and
yet was never to blame.' It was not that he was free from the failings
of humanity, but he had the tenderness of it too, which made every
body excuse whom everybody loved ; for even the asperity of his verses
seems to have been forgiven to
The best good man, with the worst-natured muse."
Noble Authors, voL ii., p. 96. Lord Dorset died January 19, 1705-6.
% Sir Charles Sedley was bom about the year 1639, and was educated
at Wadham College, Oxford. He ran into all the excesses of the times
in which he lived. Burnet says, " Sedley had a more sudden and copious
wit, which furnished a perpetual run of discourse j but he was not so
correct as Lord Dorset, nor so sparkling as Lord Rochester." — History
of his Own Times, voL i., p. 372. He afterwards took a more serious
turn, and was active against the reigning family at the Revolution ; to
which he was probably urged by the dishonour 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
20th August, 1701.
§ Sir George Ethendge, 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 niinister at Ratisbon,
where he died, about the time of the Revolution.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 225
immediately seized upon by an angry husband, who wiU oblige
her to spend her Christmas at a country-house, a hundred and
fifty mUes from London; whUe here there are a thousand
ladies who are left at hberty to do whatever they please, and
who indulge in that hberty, and whoseconduct,in short, deserves
a daily bastinado. I name no person, God forbid I should ;
but Lady Middleton, Lady Denham, the queen's and the
duchess's maids of honour, and a hundred others, bestow their
favours to the right and to the left, and not the least notice is
taken of theh conduct. As for Lady Shrewsbury, she is con
spicuous. I would take a wager she might have a man kiUed
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 hah made into bracelets, and no
person finds any fault ; and yet shaU such a cross-grained fool
as Chesterfield be permitted to exercise an act of tyranny, al
together unknown in this country, upon the prettiest woman
in England, and aU for a mere trifle : but I am his humble
servant ; his precautions wiU avaU him nothing ; on the con
trary, very often a woman, who had no bad intentions when
she was suffered to remain in tranquillity, is prompted to such
conduct by revenge, or reduced to it by necessity : this is as
true as the gospel : hear now what 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.

226 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT,
" When you are by,
Nor wishful look, be sure, nor eloquent Sigh.
Shall dare those inward fires discover,
Which burn in either lover :
Tet Argus' self, if Argus were thy spy,
Should ne'er, with all his mob of eyes.
Surprise.
"Some joys forbidden,
Transports hidden,
Which love, through dark and secret ways,
Mysterious love, to kiudred souls conveys."
The Chevaher 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 some truths that
flattered the genius of the nation, and pleased those who in
terested themselves for the fair sex, the ladies were aU desirous
of having it to teach their children.
During aU this time the Duke of York, not being in the
way of seeing Lady Chesterfield, easily forgot her : her absence,
however, had some chcumstances attending it which could not
but sensibly affect the person who had occasioned her confine
ment ; but there are certain fortunate tempers to which every
situation is easy ; they feel neither disappointment with bit
terness, nor pleasure with acuteness. In the mean time, as the
duke could not remain idle, he had no sooner forgotten Lady
Chesterfield, but he began to think of her whom he had been
in love with before, and was upon the point of relapsing into
his old passion for Miss Hamilton.
There was in London a celebrated portrait-painter caUed
Lely* who had greatly improved himseh by studying the
* Sir Peter Lely was born at Soest, in Westphalia, 1617, and came to
England in 1641. Lord Orford observes, " If Vandyke's portraits are
often tame and spiritless, at least they are natural: his laboured draperies

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 227
famous Vandyke's pictures, which were dispersed aU over
England in abundance. Lely imitated Vandyke's manner,
and approached the nearest to him of aU the moderns. The
Duchess of York, being deshous of having the portraits of the
handsomest persons at court, Lely painted them, and employed
aU his skUl in the performance ; nor could he ever exert him
seh upon more beautiful subjects. Every picture appeared a
master-piece ; and that of Miss HamUton appeared the highest
finished: Lely himseh acknowledged that he had drawn it
with a particular pleasure. The Duke of York took a dehght
in looking at it, and began again to ogle the original : he had
very httle reason to hope for success ; and at the same time
that his hopeless passion alarmed the Chevalier de Grammont,
Lady Denham thought proper to renew the negotiation which
had so unluckUy been interrupted : it was soon brought to a
conclusion ; for where both parties are sincere in a negotiation,
no time is lost in cavilling. Everything succeeded prosper-

flow with ease, and not a fold but is placed with propriety. Lely supplied
the want of taste with clinquant : his nymphs trail fringes and em
broidery through meadows and purling streams. Add, that Vandyke's
habits are those of the times ; Lel/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^
women are certainly much handsomer than those of Vandyke. They
please as much more as they evidently meant to please. He caught
the reigning character, and
'  on the animated canvas stole
The sleepy eye, that .spoke the melting souL'
I do not know whether, even in softness of the flesh, he did not excel
his predecessor. The beauties at Windsor are the court of Paphos, and
ought to be engraved for the memoirs of its charming biographer, Count
Hamilton."— Anecdotes of Painting, vol. iii, p. 27. Sir Peter Lely died
1680, and was buried in St. Paul's, Coveut Garden. 2 B

228 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
ously on one side ; yet, I know not what fatahty obstructed
the pretensions of the other. The duke was very urgent with
the duchess to put Lady Denham in possession of the place
which was the object of her ambition ; but as she was not
guarantee for the performance of the secret articles of the
treaty, though tUl 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 dis
honourable to her, to entertain near her person, a rival, who
woidd expose her to the danger of acting but a second part in
the midst of her own court. However, she saw herseh upon
the point of being forced to it by authority, when a far more
unfortunate obstacle for ever bereft poor Lady Denham of the
hopes of possessing that fatal place, which she had solicited
with such eagerness.
Old Denham, naturaUy jealous, became more and more sus
picious, and found that he had sufficient ground for such con
duct : his wife was young and handsome, he old and disagree
able : what reason then had he to flatter himself that Heaven
would exempt him from the fate of husbands in the like cir
cumstances ? This he was continually saying to himself; but
when compliments were poured in upon him from aU 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 privUeged country : that of Lord Chesterfield was not suf
ficiently bitter for the revenge he meditated : besides, he had
no country-house to which he could carry his unfortunate whe.
This being the case, the old villain made her travel a much
longer journey without stirringbut of London. MercUess fate

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 229
robbed her of hfe* and of her dearest hopes, in the bloom of
youth. As no person entertained any doubt, of his having poisoned
her, the populace of his neighbourhood had a design of tear
ing him in pieces, as soon as he should come abroad ; but he
shut himseh up to bewaU her death, untU their fury was ap
peased by a magnificent funeral, at which he distributed four
times more burnt wine than had ever been drunk at any burial
in England.
WhUe the town was in fear of some great disaster, as an
expiation for these fatal effects of jealousy, HamUton was not
altogether so easy as he flattered himseh 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 stUl admhed, notwith
standing his resentments, leisure to make those reflections
which a recent injury wUl not permit a man to attend to :
" And wherefore," said he to himself, " was I so eager to make
her miserable, who alone, however culpable she may be, has it
in her power to make me happy ? Cursed jealousy !" con
tinued he, " yet more cruel to those who torment than to those
who are tormented ! What have I gained by having blasted
the hopes of a more happy rival, since I was not able to per
form this without depriving myself, at the same time, of her
upon whom the whole happiness and comfort of my hfe was
centred." Thus, clearly proving to himseh, by a great many reasonings
• The lampoons of the day, some of which are to be found in Andrew
Marvell's Works, more than insinuate that she was deprived of life by a
mixture infused into some chocolate. The slander of the times imputed
ber death to the jealousy of the Duchess of York.

23o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
of the same kind, and aU out of season, that in sucn an en
gagement it was much better to partake with another than to
have nothing at ah, he fiUed his mind with -a number of vain
regrets and unprofitable remorse, when he received a letter
from her who occasioned them, but a letter so exactly adapted
to increase them, that, after he had read it, he looked upon
himseh as the greatest scoundrel in the world. Here it fol
lows :
"You wiU, no doubt, be as much surprised at this letter as
I was at the unconcerned ah with which you beheld my de
parture. I am led to believe that you had imagined reasons
which, in your own mind, justified such unseasonable conduct.
If you are stiU under the impression of such barbarous senti
ments it wUl 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 aU 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, stiU more insupport
able than the sad objects that encompass me. I should add
to the misfortunes of my hfe that of seeming criminal in the
eyes of a man who ought to have justified me, even against
convincing appearances, if by my avowed innocence I had a
right to complain or to expostulate : but how is it possible for
me to justify myself at such a distance ; and how can I flat
ter myseh that the description of a most dreadful prison wUl
not prevent you from believing me ? But do you deserve
that I 'should wish you did ? Heavens ! how I must hate
you, if I did not love you to distraction. Come, therefore,
and let me once again see you, that you may hear my justifi
cation ; and I am convinced that if after this visit you find me

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 231
guUty it wUl not be with respect to yourseh. Our Argus sets
out to-morrow for Chester, where a law-suit wUl detain him a
week. I know not whether he wUl gain it ; but I am sure it
wiU be entirely your fault if he dotes 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 stiU more rash than that which was proposed to
him, and that was rash enough in aU respects : he could not
perceive by what means sne could justify herseh; but as she
assured him he should be satisfied with his journey, this was
aU he deshed at present.
There was one of his relations with Lady Chesterfield, who,
having accompanied her in her exUe, had gained some share
in theh mutual confidence ; and it was through her means he
received this letter, with aU the necessary instructions about
his journey and his arrival. Secrecy being the soul of such
expeditions, especiaUy before an amour is accomplished, he
took post, and set out in the night, animated by the most
tender and flattering wishes, so that, in less than no time
almost, in comparison with the distance and the badness of
the roads, he had traveUed a hundred and fifty tedious mUes :
at the last stage he prudently dismissed the post-boy. It was
not yet dayhght, and therefore, for fear of the rocks and pre
cipices mentioned in her letter, he proceeded with tolerable
discretion, considering he was in love.
By this means he fortunately escaped aU the dangerous
places, and, according to his instructions, alighted at a httle
hut adjoining to the park waU. The place was not magnifi
cent; but, as he only wanted rest, it didweU enough for that:
he did not wish for dayhght, and was even still less deshous
of being seen ; wherefore, having shut himseh up in this ob
scure retreat, he feU into a profound sleep, and did not wake

232 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
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 himseh, and in
making aU those preparations which the time and place per
mitted, without deigning once to look around him, or to ask
his landlord a single question At last the orders he expected
with great impatience were brought him, in the beginning of
the evening, by a servant, who, attending him as a guide, after
having led him for about hah an hour in the dirt, through a
park of vast extent, brought him at last into a garden, into
which a httle door opened : he was posted exactly opposite to
this door, by which, in a short time, he was to be introduced
to a more agreeable situation ; and here his conductor left
him. The night advanced, but the door never opened.
Though the winter was almost over, the cold weather seemed
only to be beginning : he was dirtied up to his knees in mud,
and soon perceived that if he continued much longer in this
garden it would aU 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 himseh 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 imagination, by a thousand delicious and tender ideas
supported him some time' against the torments of impatience
and the inclemency of the weather ; but he felt his imagina
tion, notwithstanding, cooling by degrees; and two hours,
which seemed to him as tedious as two whole ages, having
passed, and not the least notice being taken of him, either
from the door or from the window, he began to reason with
himseh upon the posture of his affairs, and what was the fit
test conduct for him to pursue in this emergency : " What if

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 233
I should rap at this cursed door," said he ; " for if my fate re
quires that I should perish, it is at least more honourable to
die in the house than to be starved to death in the garden :
but then," continued he, " I may, thereby, perhaps, expose a
person whom some unforeseen accident may, at this very in
stant, have reduced to greater perplexity than even I myself
am in." This thought supphed him with a necessary degree
of patience and fortitude against the enemies he had to con
tend with ; he therefore began to walk quickly to and fro,
with resolution to wait, as long as he could keep alive, the
end of an adventure which had such an uncomfortable begin
ning. All this was to no purpose ; for though he used every
effort to keep himseh warm, and though muffled up in a thiok
cloak, yet he began to be benumbed in aU his limbs, and the
cold gained the ascendancy over aU his amorous vivacity and
eagerness. Daybreak was not far off, and judging now that,
though the accursed door should even be opened, it would be
to no purpose, he returned, as weU as he could, to the place
from whence he had set out upon this wonderful expedition.
AU the faggots that were in the cottage were hardly able to
unfreeze him : the more he reflected on his adventure, the
chcumstances attending it appeared still the more strange and
unaccountable ; but so far from accusing the charming coun
tess, he suffered a thousand different anxieties on her account.
Sometimes he imagined that her husband might have returned
unexpectedly ; sometimes, that she might suddenly have been
taken Ul; in short, that some insuperable obstacle had unluckUy
interposed, and prevented his happiness, notwithstanding his
mistress's kind intentions towards him, " But wherefore," said
he, " did she forget me in that cursed garden ? Is it possible
that she could not find a single moment to make me at least
some sign or other, if she could neither speak to me nor give

234 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
me admittance ?" He knew not which of these conjectures to
rely upon, or how to answer his own questions ; but as he flat
tered himseh 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 foi him : then he laid liimseh down
in one of the worst beds in the world, and slept as sound as
if he had been in the best : he supposed that he should not be
awakened, but either by a letter or a message from Lady Ches
terfield ; but he had scarce slept two hours when he was roused
by the sound of the horn and the cry of the hounds. The hut
which afforded him a retreat, joining, as we before said, to the
park waU, he caUed his host, to know what was the occasion
of that hunting, which made a noise as if the whole pack of
hounds had been in his bed-chamber. He was told that it was
my lord hunting a hare in his park. " What lord ?" said he,
in great surprise. " The Earl of Chesterfield," rephed the pea
sant. He was so astonished at this that at first he hid his
head under the bed-clothes, under the idea that he aheady
saw him entering with aU his hounds ; but as soon as he had
a httle recovered himseh he began to curse capricious for
tune, no longer doubting but this jealous fool's return had
occasioned aU his tribulations in the preceding ni"ht.
It was not possible for him to sleep again, after such an
alarm ; he therefore got up, that he might revolve in his mind
aU the stratagems that are usuaUy 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
whe. He had just finished dressing himseh, and was begin
ning to question his landlord, when the same servant who had
conducted him to the garden dehvered him a letter, and disap
peared, without waiting for an answer. This letter was from
his relation, and was to this effect :

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 235
" I am extremely sorry that I have innocently been acces
sary to bringing you to a place, to which you were only in
vited to be laughed at : I opposed this journey at first, though
I was then persuaded it was whoUy suggested by her tender
ness ; but she has now undeceived me : she triumphs in the
trick she has played you : her husband has not stirred from
hence, but stays at home, out of complaisance to her : he
treats her in the most affectionate manner ; and it was upon
theh 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 whoUy satisfied her resentment.
Console yourseh for the hatred of a person, whose heart never
merited your tenderness. Return : a longer stay in this
place wUl but draw upon you some fresh misfortune : for my
part, I shaU soon leave her : I know her, and I thank God
for it. I do not repent having pitied her at first ; but I am
disgusted with an employment which but iU 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 deshe of vengeance, broke forth by turns, and ex
cited his passion and resentment ; but, after he dehberately
considered the matter, he resolved that it was now the best
way quietly to mount his horse, and to carry back with him
to London a severe cold, instead of the soft wishes and tender
desires he had brought from thence. He quitted this perfi
dious place with much greater expedition than he had arrived
at it, though his mind was far from being occupied with such
tender and agreeable ideas : however, when he thought him
seh at a sufficient distance to be out of danger of meeting
Lord Chesterfield and his hounds, he chose to look back, that

236 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
he might at least have the satisfaction of seeing the prison
where this wicked enchantress was confined ; but what was
his surprise, when he saw a very fine house, situated on the
banks of a river, 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 furnished fresh cause for resentment and con
fusion to a man who thought himseh so weU acquainted with
aU the wUes, as weU as weaknesses, of the fair sex ; and who
now found himseh the dupe of a coquette, who was reconcUed
to her husband in order to be revenged on her lover.
At last he reached London, weU furnished with arguments
to maintain that a man must be extremely weak to trust to
the tenderness of a woman who has once deceived him, but
that he must be a complete fool to run after her.
This adventure not being much to his credit, he suppressed,
as much as possible, both the journey and the chcumstances
attending it ; but, as we may easUy suppose, Lady Chester-
* 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
destructions of what was once the boasted beauty of the lovely country,
viz. Bretby, the ancient seat of the Earls of Chesterfield. Nothing
scarce is left of that former grandeur, those shades, those sylvan scenes
that everywhere graced the most charming of all parks : the baneful
hand of luxury hath, with rude violence; laid them waste. About
ten years ago, the venerable and lofty pile was standing, and exhibited
delightful magnificence to its frequent visitors : its painted roofs and
walls, besides a large collection of pictures, afforded much entertainment
to the fond admirer of antique beauties ; and the whole stood as a lasting
monument of fame and credit to its lordly owner.  Would they were
standing now ! but that thought is vain :— not only each surrounding
monument, but the very stones themselves, have been converted to the
purpose of filthy lucre."— Tour in 1787,/rom London to the Western
Islands of Scotland, 12ino., p. 29.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 237
field made no secret of it, the king came to the knowledge of
it ; and, having complimented Hamilton upon it, desired to
be informed of aU the particulars of the expedition. The
Chevaher de Grammont happened to be present at this recital;
and, having gently inveighed against the treacherous manner
in which he had been used, said : " H she is to be blamed for
carrying the jest so far, you are no less to be blamed for
coming back so suddenly, hke an ignorant novice. I dare lay
an hundred guineas, she has more than once repented of a
resentment which you pretty weU deserved for the trick you
had played her : women love revenge ; but theh resentments
seldom last long ; and if you had remained in the neighbour
hood tUl the next day, I wUl be hanged if she would not have
given you satisfaction for the first night's sufferings.'' HamU
ton being of a different opinion, the Chevaher de Grammont
resolved to maintain his assertion by a case in point ; and,
addressing himseh to the king : " Sir," said he, " your majesty,
I suppose, must have known Marion de l'Orme, the most
charming creature in aU France : though she was as witty as
an angel, she was as capricious as a devU. 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 biUets in the world, fuU of the grief and sorrow she
was in, by being obhged to disappoint me, on account of a
most terrible headache, that obliged her to keep her bed, and
deprived her of the pleasure of seeing me tUl the next day.
This headache coming aU of a sudden, appeared to me very
suspicious; and, never doubting but -it was her intention to
jUt me: Very weU, mistress coquette,' said I to myself, 'if you
do not enjoy the pleasure of seeing me this day, you shaU not
enjoy the satisfaction of seeing another.'
" Hereupon, I detached aU my servants, some of whom pa-

238 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
troUed about her house, whUst 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 foUowed him as far as the Rue
Saint Antoine, where this boy met another, to whom he only
spoke two or three words. This was sufficient to confirm my
suspicions, and make me resolve either to make one of the
party, or to disconcert it.
" As the bagnio where I lodged was at a great distance from
the Marais, as soon as the night set in I mounted my horse,
without any attendant. When I came to the Place-Royale,
the servant, who was sentry there, assured me that no person
was yet gone into MademoiseUe de l'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
into it, who avoided me as much as he possibly could ; but his
endeavour was aU to no purpose ; I knew him to be the Duke
de Brissac, and I no longer doubted but he was my rival that
night : I then approached towards him, seeming as if I feared
I mistook my man; and, alighting with a very busy ah:
' Brissac, my friend,' said I, ' you must do me a service of the
very greatest importance : I have an appointment, for the first
time, with a girl who lives very near this place ; and, as this
visit is only to concert measures, I shaU make but a very short
stay : be so kind, therefore, as to lend me your cloak, and walk
my horse about a httle, untU I return ; but, above aU, do not
go far from this place : you see that I use you freely like a
* Marion de l'Orme, born at Chalons, in Champagne, was esteemed
tbe most beautiful woman of her times. It is believed that she was
secretly married to the unfortunate Monsieur Cinqmars. After his
death, sh9 became the mistress of Cardinal Richelieu, and, at last, of
Monsieur d'Emery, superintendent of the finances.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 239
friend ; but you know it is upon condition that you may take
the same hberty with me.' I took his cloak, without waiting
for his answer, and he took my horse by the bridle, and fol
lowed me with his eye ; but he gained no intelligence by this;
for, after having pretended to go into a house opposite to him,
I shpped under the piazzas to MademoiseUe de l'Orme's, where
the doorwasopened as soon as I knocked. Iwas somuchmuffied
up in Brissac's cloak that I was taken for him : the door was
immediately shut, not the least question asked me ; and having
none to ask myself I went straight to the lady's chamber. I
found her upon a couch in the most agreeable and genteelest
d&habUle imaginable : she never in her hfe looked so handsome,
nor was so greatly surprised ; and, seeing her speechless and
confounded : ' What is the matter, my fair one ?' said I, ' me-
thinks this is a headache very elegantly set off; but your
headache, to aU appearance, is now gone V ' Not in the least/
said she, ' I can scarce support it, and you wUl obhge 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 httle princess : the Chevaher de
Grammont is no fool ; a woman does not dress herseh with so
much care for nothing.' ' You wiU find, however,' said she,
' that it is for nothing ; for you may depend upon it that you
shaU be no gainer by it.' ' What !' said I, ' after having made
me an appointment 1' ' WeU,' rephed she hastily, ' though I
had made you fifty, it stiU depends upon me, whether I chose
to keep them or not, and you must submit if I do not.' ' This
might do very weU,' said I, ' if it was not to give it to another.'
MademoiseUe de 1'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 herseh in a passion-

24o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
' Madam,' said I, ' pray do not talk in so high a strain ; I know
what perplexes you : you are afraid lest Brissac should meet
me here; but you may make yourseh easy on that account: I
met him not far from this place, and God knows that I have
so managed the affair as to prevent his visiting you soon.'
Having spoken these words in a tone somewhat tragical, she
appeared concerned at first, and, looking upon me with sur
prise: 'What do you mean about the Duke de Brissac V said
she. ' I mean,' rephed I, ' that he is at the end of the street,
walking my horse about ; but, if you wiU 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 Chevaher,' said she, T can hold
out no longer ; you are too amiable and too eccentric not to be
pardoned.' I then told her the whole story : she was ready to
die with laughing; and, parting very good friends, she assured
me my rival might exercise horses as long as he pleased, but
that he should not set his foot within her doors that night.
" I found the duke exactly in the place where I had left
him : I asked him a thousand pardons for having made him
wait so long, and thanked him a thousand times for his com
plaisance. He told me I jested, that such compliments were
unusual among friends ; and to convince me that he had cor-
diaUy rendered me this piece of service, he would, by aU means,
hold my horse whUe I was mounting. I returned him his
cloak, bade him good night, and went back to my lodgings,
equaUy satisfied with my mistress and my rival. This," con
tinued he, "proves that a httle patience and address are suffi
cient to disarm the anger of the fah, to turn even theh tricks
to a man's advantage."
It was in vain that the Chevaher de Grammont diverted the

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. S4x
court with his stories, instructed by his example, 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 aU human
happiness depend on her 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 theh several merits had
preceded theh arrival, in order to dispose the suffrages of the
court in theh favour.
They came to display, in theh own persons, whatever was
the most accomphshed 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,-!* the other
was the president Tambonneau, the most humble and most
obedient servant and admher of the beauteous Luynes. As
they arrived together, they exerted every endeavour to shine
*A Monsieur Elamarin, but whether the same person as here described
cannot be exactly ascertained, is mentioned, in Sydney's Letters, to
have been in England at a latei period than is comprehended in these
Memoirs. " Monsieur de 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 formalities 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.
¦f- 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 foi parting from her husband, who was a pro
testant, and for whom she had an invincible abhorrence ; which occa
sioned the queen to say, " The Countess of Suse became a catholic, that
she might neither meet her husband in this world nor the next." — See
Lacombe's Life of Queen Christina. The Countess died in 1673.

242 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT,
in concert : their talents were as different as their persons ;
Tambonneau,* who was tolerably ugly, founded his hopes upon
a great store of wit, which, however, no person in England
could find out ; and Flamarens, by his air and mien, courted
admiration, which was flatly denied him.
They had agreed mutuaUy to assist each other, in order to
succeed in theh intentions ; and therefore; in theh first visits,
the one appeared in state, and the other was the spokesman.
But they found the ladies in England of a far different taste
from those who had rendered them famous in France : the
rhetoric of the one had no effect on the fair sex, and the fine
mien of the other distinguished him only in a minuet, which
he first introduced into England, and which he danced with
tolerable success. The Enghsh court had been too long ac
customed to the sohd wit of Saint Evremond, and the natural
and singular charms of his hero, to be seduced by appearances;
however, as the Enghsh have, in general, a sort of predilection
in favour of anything that has the appearance of bravery,
Flamarens was better received on account of a duel, which,
obliging him to leave his own country, was a recommendation
to him in England.
Miss HamUton had, at first, the honour of being distinguished
by Tambonneau, who thought she possessed a sufficient share
of wit to discover the delicacy of his ; and, being delighted to
find that nothing was lost in her conversation, either as to the
turn, the expression, or beauty of the thought, he frequently
did her the favour to converse with her; and, perhaps, he
would never have found out that he was thesome, if, content
ing himseh with the display of his eloquence, he had not
thought proper to attack her heart. This was carrying the
* I find this person mentioned in Memoirs of the Court of France,
8vo., 1702, part ii, p. 42.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 243
matter a httle too far for Miss Hamilton's complaisance, who
was of opinion that she had aheady shown him too much for
the tropes of his harangues : he was therefore desired to try
somewhere else the experiment of his seducing tongue, and not
to lose the merit of his former constancy by an infidelity which
would be of no advantage to him.
He foUowed this advice hke a wise and tractable man ;
and some time after, returning to his old mistress in France,
he began to lay in. a store of pohtics for those important ne
gotiations in which he has since been employed.
It was not tiU 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
faUen to his share before he went away. His colleague, Fla
marens, deprived of his support, soon perceived that he was
not likely to meet in England with the success he had ex
pected, both from love and fortune : but Lord Falmouth, ever
attentive to the glory of his master, in the rehef of illustrious
men in distress, provided for his subsistence, and Lady
Southesk for his pleasures : he obtained a pension from the
king, and from her everything he desired; and most happy
was it for him that she had no other present to bestow but
that of ber heart.
It was at this time that Talbot, whom we have before men
tioned, and who was afterwards created Duke of Tyrconnel,*
* 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 aud mingled with them in the late
rebellion : and of this family there were two distinct families, who had
competent estates, and lived in many descents in the rank of gentlemen
2 D

244 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
feU in love with Miss Hamilton. There was not a more
genteel man at court : he was indeed bat a younger brother,

of quality." Thus far Lord Clarendon ; who adds, that Richard Talbot
and his " brothers were all the sons, or the grandsons, of one who was
a judge in Ii eland, and esteemed a learned man." — Continuation of
Clarendon. Of the person now uuder consideration the same writer
appears, and with great reason, to have entertained a very ill opinion.
Dick Talbot, as he was called, " was brought into Flanders first by Daniel
O'Neile, as one who was willing to assassinate Cromwell ; and he made
a journey into England with that resolution, not long before his death,
and after it returned iuto Flanders, ready to do all that he should be
required. He was a very handsome young man, wore good clothes, and
was, without doubt, of a clear, ready courage, which was virtue enough
to recommend a man to the duke's good opinion ; which, with more
expedition than could be expected, he got, to that degree, that he was
made of his bed-chamber ; and from that qualification embarked himself,
after the king's return, in the pretences of the Irish, with such an
unusual confidence, and, upon private contracts, with such scandalous
circumstances, that the chancellor had sometimes, at the council- table,
been obliged to give him severe reprehensions, and often desired the
duke to withdraw his countenance from him." — Continuation of Claren
don. It is to be remembered that he was one of the men of honour
already noticed. On King James's accession to the throne, he was
created Earl of Tyrconnel, and placed, as lieutenant-general, at the
head of the Irish army, where his conduct was so agreeable to his
sovereign, that he was, in 1689, advanced to the dignity of Duke of
Tyrconnel. He was afterwards employed by the king in Ireland, where
his efforts were without effect. The Duke of Berwick says, " his stature
was above the ordinary size. He had great experience of the world,
having been early introduced into the best company, and possessed of
an honourable employment in the household of the Duke of York ; who,
upon his succession to the crown, raised him to the dignity of an earl,
and, well knowing his zeal and attachment, made him soon after viceroy
of Ireland. He was a man of very good sense, very obliging, but immo
derately vain, and full of cunning. Though he had acquired great pos
sessions, it could not be said that he had employed improper means ; for
he never appeared to have a passion for money. He had not a military
genius, but much courage. After the Prince of Orange's invasion, his

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 245
though of a very ancient famUy, which, however, was not
very considerable either for its renown or its riches; and
though he was naturally of a careless disposition, yet, being
intent upon making his fortune, and much in favour with the
Duke of York, and fortune hkewise favouring him at play, he
had improved both so weU that he was in possession of about
forty thousand pounds a year in land. He offered himseh 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 ah, as many sacrifices as
she could deshe of Lady Shrewsbury's letters, pictures, and
hah; curiosities which, indeed, are reckoned for nothing in
housekeeping, but which testify strongly in favour of the
sincerity and merit of a lover.
Such a rival was not to be despised ; and the Chevaher de
Grammont thought him the more dangerous, as he perceived
that Talbot was desperately in love ; that he was not a man
to be discouraged by a first repulse ; that he had too much
sense and good breeding to draw upon himseh either contempt
or coldness by too great eagerness ; and, besides this, his
brothers began to frequent the house. One of these brothers
was almoner to the queen,* an intriguing Jesuit, and a great
match-maker : the other was what was caUed a lay-monk,t
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
unwieldy in his person." — Memoirs, vol i., p. 94. He died at Limerick,
5th August, 1691.
* This was Peter Talbot, whose character is drawn by Lord Claren
don in terms not more favourable than those in which his brother is
pourtrayed. — See Continuation of Clarendon, p. 363.
t Thomas Talbot, a Franciscan friar, of wit enough, says Lord
Clarendon, but of notorious debauchery. More particulars of this man

246 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
who had nothing of his order but the immorahty 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 Chevaher de Grammont reflected upon aU these
things, there certainly was strong ground for uneasiness : nor
was the indifference which Miss HamUton showed for the
addresses of his rival sufficient to remove his fears ; for being
absolutely dependent on her father's wiU, she could only
answer for her own intentions : but Fortune, who seemed to
have taken him under her protection in England, now de
livered him from aU his uneasiness.
Talbot had for many years stood forward as the patron of
the distressed Irish : this zeal for his countrymen was cer
tainly very commendable in itself; at the same time, however,
it was not altogether free from self-interest : for, out of aU the
estates he had, through his credit, procured the restoration of
to theh primitive owners, he had always obtained some small
compensation for himseh ; but, as each owner found his ad
vantage in it, no complaint was made. Nevertheless, as it is
very difficult to use fortune and favour with moderation, and
not to sweU with the gales of prosperity, some of his proceed
ings had an ah of haughtiness and independence, which
offended the Duke of Ormond,* then Lord Lieutenant of
Ireland, as injurious to his Grace's authority. The Duke re
sented this behaviour with great spirit. As there certainly

may be found in the same noble historian. — See Continuation of
Clarendon, p. 363.
* A very exact account of this transaction is given by Lord Claren
don, by which it appears, that Talbot was committed to the Tower for
threateniug to assassinate the Duke of Ormond. — Continuation of
Clarendon, p. 362.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 247
was a great difference between them, both as to their birth
and rank, and to theh credit, it had been prudent in Talbot
to have had recourse to apologies and submission ; but such
conduct appeared to him base, and unworthy for a man of his
importance to submit to: he accordingly acted with haughti
ness and insolence ; but he was soon convinced of his error ;
for, having inconsiderately launched out into some arrogant
expressions, which it neither became him to utter nor the
Duke of Ormond to forgive, he was sent prisoner to the
Tower, from whence he could not be released untU he had
made aU necessary submissions to his Grace: he therefore
employed aU his friends for that purpose, and was obhged to
yield more to get out of this scrape than would have been
necessary to have avoided it. By this imprudent conduct he
lost aU hopes of marrying into a family, which, after such a
proceeding, was not likely to hsten 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 good to his
affairs. This being the case, he was of opinion that his presence
was necessary in Ireland, and that he was better out of the
way of Miss Hamilton, to remove those impressions which
stUl troubled his repose: his departure, therefore, soon fol
lowed this resolution.
Talbot played deep, and was tolerably forgetful : the Che
vaher de Grammont won three or four hundred guineas of
him the very evening on which he was sent to the Tower.
That accident had made him forget his usual punctuality in
paying the next morning whatever he had lost over-night;
and this debt had so far escaped his memory, that it never
once occurred to him after he was enlarged. The Chevalier"
de Grammont, who saw him at his departure, without taking

248 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
the least notice of the money he owed him, wished him a
good journey; arid, 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 RusseU has left his nephew
as his resident with Miss HamUton : if you please, I wUl act
for you in the same capacity. Adieu, God bless you : be sure
not to faU sick upon the road; but if you should, pray
remember me in your wUL" Talbot, who, upon this compli
ment, immediately recoUected the money he owed the Che
vaher, burst out a-laughing, and embracing him : " My dear
Chevaher," said he, "I am so much obhged to you for your
offer, that I resign you my mistress, and wiU send you your
money instantly." The Chevaher de Grammont possessed a
thousand of these genteel ways of refreshing the memories of
those persons who were apt to be forgetful in theh payments.
The foUowing is the method he used some years after with
Lord Cornwallis :* this lord had married the daughter of Sir
Stephen Fox,-f- treasurer of the king's household, one of the
• Charles, the third Lord Cornwallis, born in 1655. He married,
December 27, 1673, Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Sir Stephen Fox,
knight, and afterwards, in 1688, the widow of the Duke of Mon
mouth. Lord Cornwallis died April 29, 1698.
t This gentleman is said to have been of a genteel family, settled at
Farley, in Wiltshire, and was the architect of his own fortune. Lord
Clarendon says, in his History of the Rebellion, that he was enter
tained by Lord Percy, then lord-chamberlain of the king's household,
at Paris, about the year 1652, and continued in his majesty's service
until the Restoration. On that event he was made clerk of the green
cloth, and afterwards paymaster-general of the forces in England. On
the 1st July, 1665, he was knighted. In 1680, he was constituted oue
of the lords commissioners of the treasury. On the accession of James
II. he was continued first clerk of the green cloth ; and, in December,
1686, was again appointed one of the commissioners of the treasury.
At the revolution, he concurred in voting the throne vacant ; and, on

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 249
richest and most regular men in England. His son-in-law,
on the contrary, was a young spendthrift, was very extrava
gant, loved gaming, lost as much as any one would trust him,
but was not quite so ready at paying. His father-in-law dis
approved of his conduct, paid his debts, and gave him a
lecture at the same time. The Chevaher de Grammont had
won of him a thousand or twelve hundred guineas, which he
heard no tidings of, although he was upon the eve of his de
parture, and he had taken leave of Cornwallis in a more par
ticular manner than any other person. This obhged the
Chevaher to write him a biUet, which was rather laconic. It
was this :
" My Lord,
" Pray remember the Count de Grammont, and do not
forget Sir Stephen Fox."
To return to Talbot : he went away more concerned than
became a man who had voluntarily resigned his mistress to
another : neither his stay in Ireland, nor his sohcitude about
his domestic affairs, perfectly cured him ; and if at his return
he found himseh disengaged from Miss HamUton'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 shah see in the sequel.
We have hitherto only mentioned the queen's maids of
honour, upon account of Miss Stewart and Miss Warmestre :
19th March, 1689, was a third time appointed to the treasury ; which
place ha held until he retired from public business, in 1701. By his
first lady he had seven sons and three daughters ; and by his second,
whom he married in the year 1703, when he was 76 years of age, he
had two sons, who both afterwards became peers, — Stephen, Earl of
Ilchester, and Henry, Lord Holland, and two daughters. He died in
the year 1716, at Chiswick, in his 89th year.

2So MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
the others were Miss BeUenden, MademoiseUe de la Garde^
and MademoiseUe Bardou, aU maids of honour, as it pleased
God. Miss BeUenden was no beauty, but was a good-natured girl,
whose chief merit consisted in being plump and fresh-coloured;
and who, not having a sufficient stock of wit to be a coquette
in form, used aU her endeavours to please every person by her
complaisance. MademoiseUe de la Garde, and MademoiseUe
Bardou, both French, had been preferred to their places by the
queen dowager : the first was a httle brunette, who was con-
tinuaUy meddling in the affairs of her companions ; and the
other by aU means claimed the rank of a maid of honour,
though she only lodged with the others, and both her title and
services were constantly contested.
It was hardly possible for a woman to be more ugly, with
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 Miss Stewart was very seldom in waiting on the queen,
she was scarcely considered as a maid of honour : the others
went off almost at the same time, by different adventures ; and
this is the history of Miss Warmestre, whom we have before
mentioned, when speaking of the Chevaher de Grammont.
Lord Taaffe, eldest son of the Earl of Carhngford,* was sup-
* Nicholas, the third Viscount Taaffe, and second Earl of Carlingford.
He was of the privy-council to King James IL, 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. Hang Charles appears to have had a great

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 251
posed to be in love with her; and Miss Warmestre not only
imagined it was so, but hkewise persuaded herself that he
would not faU to marry her the first opportunity ; and in the
mean time she thought it her duty to entertain him with all
the civility imaginable. Taaffe had made the Duke of Rich
mond* his confidant : these two were particularly attached to
each other ; but stiU more so to wine. The Duke of Rich
mond, notwithstanding his birth, made but an indifferent
figure at court ; and the king respected him stiU less than his
courtiers did : and perhaps it was in order to court his ma
jesty's favour that he thought proper to faU in love with Miss
Stewart. The Duke, and Lord Taaffe made each other the
confidants of their respective engagements; and these were
the measures they took to put theh designs in execution.
Little Mademoiselle de la Gardef was charged to acquaint
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 Taafle, a younger son of my Lord Carlingford's, and the
colonel's nephew, who is now a captain of the regiment ; and his
majesty commands me to recommend to your excellency the bringing
this to pass, for the affection he hath to the family, and the merit of
this young gentleman." — Arlington's Letters, vol. ii., p. 21.
* Charles Stewart, Duke of Richmond and Lennox. He was after
wards sent ambassador to Denmark, and died at Elsinore, December
12, 1672. Burnet says, he " was sent to give a lustre to the negotia
tion, which was chiefly managed by Mr. Henshaw." — History of his
own Times, vol. i., p. 425.
t Daughter of Charles Peliot, Lord de la Garde, whose eldest
daughter married Sir Thomas Bond, comptroller of the household to
the queen-mother. Sir Thomas Bond had a considerable estate at Peck-
ham, and his second son married the niece of Jermyn, one of the
heroes of these Memoirs. — See Collins's Baronetage, vol. iii., p. 4. She
became the wife of Sir Gabriel Silvius, and died 13th October, 1730.

2S2 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Miss Stewart that the Duke of Richmond was dying of love
for her, and that when he ogled her in pubhc it was a certain
sign that he was ready to marry her, as soon as ever she would
consent. Taaffe had no commission to give the httle ambassadress
for Miss Warmestre; for there everything was already ar
ranged ; but she was charged to settle and provide some con
veniences which were still wanting for the freedom of their
commerce, such as to have free egress and regress to her at aU
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 honour, who for the world
would not have connived at anything that was not fah and
honourable, consented that they should sup as often as they
pleased in Miss Warmestre's apartments, provided theh inten
tions were honourable, and she one of the company. The good
old lady was particularly fond of green oysters, and had no
aversion to Spanish wine : she was certain of finding at every
one of these suppers two barrels of oysters ; one to be eaten
with the party, and the other for her to carry away : as soon,
therefore, as she had taken her dose of wine, she took her
leave of the company.
It was much about the time that the Chevalier de Gram
mont had cast his eyes upon Miss Warmestre, that this kind
of hfe was led in her chamber. God knows how many ham
pies, bottles of wine, and other products of his lordship's liber
ality were there consumed !
In the midst of these nocturnal festivals, and of this innocent
commerce, a relation of KUlegrew'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 thou-

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 253
Band pounds a-year : the good man, who had no business at
court, went thither merely to see his cousin KUlegrew, who
could have dispensed with his visits. He there saw Miss
Warmestre; and at first sight feU in love with her. His passion
increased to such a degree that, having no rest either by day
or night, he was obhged to have recourse to extraordinary re
medies ; he therefore early one morning caUed upon his cousin
KUlegrew, told, him his case, and desired him to demand Miss
Warmestre in marriage for him.
KUlegrew was struck with wonder and astonishment when
he heard his design : nor could he cease wondering at what
sort of creature, ofaU the women in London, his cousin had
resolved upon marrying. It was some time before KUlegrew
could beheve that he was in earnest ; but when he was con
vinced that he was, he began to enumerate the dangers and
inconveniences attending so rash an enterprise. He told him
that a girl educated at court, was a terrible piece of furniture
for the country ; that to carry her thither against her inclina
tion, would as effectuaUy rob him of his happiness and repose,
as if he was transported to heU ; that if he consented to let
her stay, he needed only to compute what it would cost him in
equipage, table, clothes, and gaming-money, to maintain her in
London according to her caprices ; and then to cast up how
long his fifteen thousand a-year would last.
His cousin had aheady formed this computation ; but, find
ing bis reason less potent than his love, he remained fixed in
his resolution ; and KUlegrew, yielding at length to his impor
tunities, went and offered his cousin, bound hand and foot, to
the victorious fair. As he dreaded nothing more than a com
pliance on her part, so nothing could astonish him more than
the contempt with which she received his proposal. The scorn
with which she refused him, made him beheve that she was

2S4 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
sure of Lord Taaffe, and wonder how a ghl hke her could find
out two men who would venture to marry her. He hastened
to relate this refusal, with aU the most aggravating chcum
stances, as the best news he could carry to his cousin ; but his
cousin would not beheve him : he supposed that KUlegrew
disguised the truth, for the same reasons he had aheady al
leged ; and not daring to mention the matter any more to him,
he resolved to wait upon her himself. He summoned aU his
courage for the enterprise, 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 himseh the trouble of calling
on her about such a ridiculous affair ; that she had aheady
given her answer to KUlegrew ; and that she neither had, nor
ever should have, any other to give ; which words she accom
panied with aU the severity with which importunate demands
are usuaUy refused.
He was more affected than confounded at this repulse:
everything became odious to him in London, and he himseh
more so than aU 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 hve without the inhuman
fair, he resolved to neglect no opportunity in his power to
hasten his death.
But whilst, in order to indulge his sorrow, he had forsaken
aU intercourse with dogs and horses ; that is to say, renounced
aU the dehghts and endearments of a country squire, the scorn
ful nymph, who was certainly mistaken in her reckoning, took
the liberty of being brought to-bed in the face of the whole
court. An adventure so pubhc made no smaU noise, as we may
very weU imagine : aU the prudes at court at once broke loose
upon it ; and those principaUy, whose age or persons secured

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 255
them from any such scandal, were the most inveterate, and
cried most loudly for justice. But the governess of the maids
of honour, who might have been caUed to an account for it,
affirmed that it was nothing at aU, and that she was possessed
of chcumstances which would at once silence all censorious
tongues. She had an audience of the queen, in order to un
fold the mystery ; and related to her majesty how everything
had passed with her consent, that is to say, upon honourable
terms. The queen sent to inquire of Lord Taaffe, whether he ac
knowledged Miss Warmestre for his wife : to which he most
respectfuUy returned for answer, that he neither acknowledged
Miss Warmestre nor her chUd, and that he wondered why she
should rather father it upon him than any other. The unfor
tunate Warmestre, more enraged at this answer than at the
loss of such a lover, quitted the court as soon as ever she was
able, with a resolution of quitting the world the first oppoi-
tunity. KUlegrew, being upon the point of setting out upon a jom\
ney, when this adventure happened, thought he might as well
caU upon his afflicted cousin in his way, to acquaint him with
the chcumstance ; and as soon as he saw him, without paying
any attention to the delicacy of his love, or to his feelings, he
bluntly told him the whole story : nor did he omit any colour
ing that could heighten his indignation, in order to make him
burstwith shame and resentment.
We read that the gentle Tiridates quietly expired upon the
recital of the death of Mariamne ; but Killegrew's fond cousin
falling devoutly upon his knees, and lifting up his eyes to
Heaven, poured forth this exclamation :
" Praised be the Lord for a smaU misfortune, which perhaps

256 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
may prove the comfort of my hfe ! Who knows but the beau
teous Warmestre wiU now accept of me for a husband ; and
that I may have the happiness of passing the remainder of my
days with a woman I adore, and by whom I may expect to
have heirs ?" " Certainly," said KUlegrew, more confounded
than his cousin ought to have been on such an occasion, " you
may depend upon having both : I make no manner of doubt
but she wUl 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 : however, in
the meantime I advise you to take that she has aheady, tfil
you get more."
Notwithstanding this raiUery, aU that was said did take
place. This faithful lover courted her, as if she had been the
chaste Lucretia, or the beauteous Helen : his passion even in
creased after marriage, and the generous fair, first out of
gratitude, and afterwards through inclination, never brought
him a chUd of which he was not the father; and though
there have been many a happy couple in England, this
certainly was the happiest.
Some time after, Miss BeUenden, not being terrified by this
example, had the prudence to quit the court before she was
obhged so to do : the disagreeable Bardou foUowed her soon
after; but for different reasons. Every person was at last
completely tired of her saraband, as weU as of her face ; and
the king, that he might see neither of them any more, gave
each a smaU pension for her subsistence. There now only
remained httle MademoiseUe de la Garde to be provided for :
neither her virtues nor her vices were sufficiently conspicuous
to occasion her being either dismissed from court, or pressed to
remain there : God knows what would have become of her, if

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 257
a Mr. SUvius* a man who had nothing of a Roman in him
except the name, had not taken the poor girl to be his whe.
We have now shown how aU these damsels deserved to be
expeUed, either for theh irregularities, or for their ugliness ;
and yet, those who replaced them found means to make them
regretted, Miss WeUs only excepted.
She was a taU ghl, exquisitely shaped : she dressed very
genteel, walked like a goddess ; and yet, her face, though
made like those that generaUy please the most, was unfortu
nately one of those that pleased the least : nature had spread
over it a certain careless indolence that made her look
sheepish. This gave but a bad opinion of her wit : and her
wit had the iU-luck to make good that opinion : however, as
she was fresh coloured, and appeared inexperienced, the king,
whom the fah 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 senti
ments with her understanding : nor was this experiment
attended with much difficulty : she was of a loyal family ;
and her father having faithfully served Charles the Fhst, she
thought it her duty not to revolt against Charles the Second.
But this connection was not attended with very advantageous
chcumstances for herseh; some pretended that she did not
hold out long enough, and that she surrendered at discretion
before she was vigorously attacked; and others said, that
* Afterwards Sir Gabriel Silvius. In Chamberlayne's Angliat
Notitia, 1669, Gabriel de Sylviis is put down as one of the carvers to
the queen, and Mrs. de Sylviis, one of the six chambriers or dressers
to the queen. He was afterwards knighted, and, 30th February, 1680,
was sent ambassador 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.

258 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
his majesty complained of certam other faculties stiU les3
pleasing. The Duke of Buckingham made a couplet upon
this occasion, wherein the king, speaking to Progers, the con
fidant of his intrigues, puns upon the name of the fah one, to
the foUowing purport :
When the king felt the horrible depth of this Well,
Tell me, Proger3,* cried Charlie, where am I ? oh tell !
Had I sought the world's centre to find, I had found it,
But this Well ! ne'er a plummet was made that could sound it."
• Edward Progers, Esq., was a younger son of Philip Progers, ^sq.,
of the family of Garreddin, in Monmouthshire. His father was a
colonel in the army, and equerry to James L Edward was early in
troduced to court, and, after having been page to Charles I., was made
groom of the bed-chamber to his son, while Prince of Wales. He
attached himself to the king's interest during the war with the par
liament, with laudable fidelity. The following letter, from which'
antiquaries may derive the minute information that Charles IL did
wear mourning for a whole year for his father, serves to shew the fami
liar style which Charles used to Progers, as well as his straitened cir
cumstances while in the island of Jersey.
" Progers, I wold have you (besides the embroidred sute) bring me a
plaine riding suite, with an innocent coate, the suites I haue for horse -
backe being so spotted and spoiled that they are not to be seene out of
this island. The lining of the coate, and the petit toies are referred to your
greato 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 direc
tions for the embroidred suite, and those are so necessarie as you must
not forget them.
Jearsey, 14<A Jan. old stile, 1649. Charles R."
" For Mr. Progers.''
By a letter from Cowley to Henry Bennet, dated 18th November, 1650,
Mr. Progers appears to have been then active in his master's service. —
Brown's Miscellanea Aulica, 1702, p. 153. In the lampoons of the
times, particularly in those of Andrew Marvel], 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

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 259
Miss Wells, notwithstanding this species of anagram upon
her name, and these remarks upon her person, shone the
brightest among her new companions. These were Miss
Levingston, Miss Fielding, and Miss Boynton, who httle
deserve to be mentioned in these memoirs; therefore we
shah leave them in obscurity until it please fortune to draw
them out of it.
This was the new establishment of maids of honour to the
queen. The Duchess of York, nearly about the same time,
hkewise recruited hers ; but showed, by a happier and more
briUiant choice, that England possessed an inexhaustible
stock of beauties. But before we begin to speak of them, let
us see who were the first maids of honour to her royal high
ness, and on what account they were removed.
Besides Miss Blague and Miss Price, whom we have before
mentioned, the establishment was composed of Miss Bagot
and Miss Hobart, the president of the community.
king." He is said to have obtained several grants to 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
retired from public hfe. Mr. Progers died, says Le Neve, " December
31st, or January 1st, 1713, aged 96, of the anguish of cutting teeth, he
having cut four new teeth, and had several ready to cut, which so in
flamed his gums, that he died thereof." He was in law circumstances
before his death, and applied to King James for relief, with what effect
is not known. Mr. Progers had a family by his wife Elizabeth Wells ;
and the scandal-bearers of the time remarked, that his eldest daughter
Philippa, afterwards Mrs. Croxel, bore a strong resemblance to Charles
Jl.—Monumenta Anglicana, 1717, p. 273. 2 F

26o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Miss Blague, who never knew the true reason of her quarrel
With the Marquis de Brisacier, took it up upon that fatal
letter she had received from him, wherein, without acquaint
ing her that Miss Price was to wear the same sort of gloves
and yeUow riband as herself, he had only complimented her
upon her hair, her fair complexion, and her eyes marcassins.
This word she imagined must signhy something particularly
wonderful, since her eyes were compared to it; and being
desirous, some time afterwards, to know all the energy of the
expression, she asked the meaning of the French word mar-
cassin. As there are no wUd boars in England, those to
whom she addressed herself, told her that it signified a young
pig. This scandalous sinhle 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 stiU more capricious than in
significant, and never troubled himseh more about her ; but
Sir  Yarborough, of as fair a complexion as herseh, 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 admhers, which, however, she was re
solved 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 weU as in her attachments,
which had exposed her to some inconveniences ; and she had
very indiscreetly quarreUed with a young girl whom Lord
"Rochester admired. This connection, which tUl then had
been a secret, she had the imprudence to publish to the whole
world, and thereby drew upon herseh the most dansrerous

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. a6i
enemy in the universe : never did any man write with more
ease, humour, spirit, and delicacy; but he was at the same
time the most severe satirist.
Poor Miss Price, who had thus voluntarily provoked his
resentment, was daUy exposed in some new shape : there wa3
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
complete the persecution that was raised against her.
About this time died Dongan,* a gentleman of merit, who
was succeeded by Durfort, afterwards Earl of Feversham,f in
* The only notice of this person I have anywhere seen, is in the
following extract of a letter from Sir Richard Fanshaw to Lord Arling
ton, dated 4th June, 1664. — "I ought not, in justice to an honourable
person, to conclude before I acquaint your honour, that I have this day
seen a letter, whereby it is certified, from my Lord Dongan, (now at
Heres,) that, if there were any ship in Cadiz bound for Tangier, he
would go over in her, to do his majesty what service he could in that
garrison ; which, he saith, he fears wants good officers very much." —
Fanshau's Letters, vol. i., p. 104'.
t Louis de Duras, Earl of Fevsrsham, 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 IL he was created Baron Duras of Holdenby, in the
county of Northampton; and having married Mary, the eldest daughter
and co-heir of Sir George Sondes, of Lees Court, in the county of
Kent, who had been created Earl of Feversham, the same title was
limited to him, and he succeeded to it on the death of his father-in-law.
Besides these honours, King Charles preferred him to the command of

262 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
the post of heutenant of the duke"s hfe guards. Miss Price
having tenderly loved him, his death plunged her into a guh
of despair ; but the inventory of his effects had almost de
prived her of her senses : there was in it a certam httle box
sealed up on aU sides : it was addressed in the deceased's own
handwriting to Miss Price; but instead of receiving it, she
had not even the courage to look upon it. The governess
thought it became her in prudence to receive it, on Miss
Price's refusal, and her duty to deliver it to the duchess herself,
supposing it was filled with many curious and precious com
modities, of which perhaps she might make some advantage.
Though the duchess was not altogether of the same opinion,
she had the 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.
AU kinds of love trinkets were found in it ; and all these fa
vours, it appeared, came from the tender-hearted Miss Price.
It was difficult to comprehend how a single person could have
furnished so great a coUection ; for, besides counting the pic
tures, there was hah of aU descriptions, wrought into bracelets,
lockets, and into a thousand other different devices, wonderful
to see. After these were three or four packets of letters, of
the third troop of horse guards, afterwards promoted him to the second,
and then to the first. In 1679, he was made master of the horse to
Queen Katharine, and afterwards lord-chamberlain to her majesty.
Upon King James's accession he was admitted into the privy council, and
was commander-in-chief of the forces sent against the Duke of Mon
mouth. After the revolution, he continued lord-chamberlain to the
queen -dowager, and master of the royal college of St. Katherine's, near
the Tower. He died April 8th, 1709, aged 68, and was buried in the
Savoy, in the Strand, London; but removed, March 21st, 1740, to West
minster Abbey.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT 263
so tender a nature, and so fuU of raptures and languors so
naturally expressed, that the duchess could not endure the
reading of any more than the two first.
Her royal highness was sorry that she had caused the box
to be opened in such good company; for being before such
witnesses, she rightly judged it was impossible to stifle this
adventure ; and, at the same time, there being no possibility
of retaining any longer such a maid of honour, Miss Price had
her valuables restored to her, with orders to go and finish her
lamentations, or to console herseh for the loss of her lover, in
some other place.
Miss Hobart's character was at that time as uncommon in
England, as her person was singular, in a country where, to be
young, and not to be in some degree handsome, is a reproach ;
she had a good shape, rather a bold air, and a great deal of
wit, which was weU cultivated, without having much discre
tion. She was likewise possessed of a great deal of vivacity,
with an irregular fancy : there was a great deal of fire in her
eyes, which, however, produced no effect upon the beholders :
and she had a tender heart, whose sensibility some pretended
was alone in favour of the fair sex.
Miss Bagot* was the first that gained her tenderness and
* Elizabeth, daughter of Hervey Bagot, second son of Sir Hervey
Bagot. She married first Charles Berkley, Earl of Falmouth, and,
after his death, Charles Sackville, who became the first Duke of Dor
set. From the pen of a satirist much dependence is not to he placed
for the truth of facts. This lady's character is treated by Dryden and
Mulgrave with very little respect, in the following lines, extracted
from " The Essay on Satire :"
" Thus Dorset, purring like a thoughtful cat,
Married ; but wiser puss ne'er thought of that :
And first he worried her with railing rhyme,
Like Pembroke's mastiffs at his kindest time ;
Then for one night sold all his slavish life,

264 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
affection, which she returned at first with equal warmth and
sincerity ; but perceiving that aU her friendship was insuffi
cient to repay that of Miss Hobart, she yielded the conquest
to the governess's niece, who thought herseh as much honoured
by it as her aunt thought herseh obhged 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 particularly attached to
the fah sex, was in reality sometliing more than she appeared
to be.
Satirical baUads soon began to comphment her upon these
new attributes ; and upon the insinuations that were therein
made, her companions began to fear her. The governess,
alarmed -at these reports, consulted Lord Rochester upon the
danger to which her niece was exposed. She could not have
applied to a fitter person : he immediately advised her to take
her niece out of the hands of Miss Hobart ; and contrived
matters so weU that she feU into his own. The duchess, who
had too much generosity not to treat as visionary what was
imputed to Miss Hobart, and too much justice to condemn
her upon the faith of lampoons, removed her from the society
A teeming widow, but a barren wife ;
Swell'd by contact of such a fulsome toad,
He lugg'd about the matrimonial load ;
Till fortune, blindly kind as well as he.
Has ill restored him to his liberty ;
Which he would use in his old sneaking way,
Drinking all night, and dosing all the day ;
Dull as Ned Howard, whom his brisker times
Had famed for dulness in. malicious rhymes."

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 265
of the maids of honour, to be an attendant upon her own
person. Miss Bagot was the only one who was reaUy possessed of
virtue and beauty among these maids of honour: she had
beautiful and regular features, and that sort of brown com
plexion, which, when in perfection, is so particularly fascina
ting, and more especiaUy 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 honour to the duchess to a rank
which might have been envied by aU the young ladies in
England. The Duchess of York, in order to form her new court, re
solved to see aU the young persons that offered themselves,
and, without any regard to recommendations, to choose none
but the handsomest.
At the head of this new assembly appeared Miss Jennings
and Miss Temple ; and indeed they so entirely eclipsed the
other two, that we shaU speak of them only.
Miss Jennings,* adorned with all the blooming treasures of
* This lady was one of the daughters and co-heirs of Richard
Jennings of Sundridge, in the county of Hertford, Esq., and elder
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
mentioned, created Duke of Tyrconnel by James II., whose fortunes
he followed. Lord Melfort, secretary to' that prince, appears to have
conceived no very favourable opinion of thi3 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

S66 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
youth, had the fahest and brightest complexion that ever was
seen : her hah was of a most beauteous flaxen : there was
something particularly hvely and animated in her countenance,
which preserved her from that insipidity which is frequently
an attendant on a complexion so extremely fair. Her mouth
was not the smaUest, but it was the handsomest mouth in the
world. Nature had endowed her with aU those charms which
cannot be expressed, and the graces had given the finishing
stroke to them. The turn of her face was exquisitely fine,
and her swelling neck was as fah and as bright as her face. In
a word, her person gave the idea of Aurora, or the goddess of
the spring, " such as youthful poets fancy when they love."
But as it would have been unjust that a single person should
have engrossed aU the treasures of beauty without any defect,
there was sometliing wanting in her hands and arms to render
them worthy of the rest : her nose was not the most elegant,
and her eyes gave some rehef, whUst her mouth and her other
charms pierced the heart with a thousand darts.
With this amiable person she was full of wit and sprighth
ness, and aU her actions and motions were unaffected and easy:
her conversation was bewitching, when she had a mind to
give her, and which, for your service, I may repeat unto you, is, that
she has (I'dme la plus noire qui se puisse concevoir). I think it would
help to keep that peace so necessary for you, and prevent that cabal
ling humour which has very ill effects." — Macpherson's State Papers,
vol. i. In 1699 she is mentioned in a letter from the Earl of Man
chester to Lord Jersey, as one of the needy Jacobites of King James's
court, to whom 3,000 crowns, part of that monarch's pension, had been
distributed. — Coles's State Papers, p. 53. In 1705 she was in Eng
land, and had an interview with her brother-in-law, the Duke of
Marlborough, with whose family she seems not to have lived in any
terms of cordiality. — Macpherson, vol. i. In the latter part of her
life Bhe resided in Ireland, and died there, 6th March, 1730-1, at a very
advanced age. — She wa3 buried in the cathedral of St. Patrick's.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 267
please ; piercing and dehcate when disposed to raiUery ; but
as her imagination was subject to nights, and as she began to
speak frequently before she had done thinking, her expressions
did not always convey what she wished ; sometimes exceeding,
and at others falling short of her ideas.
Miss Temple,* nearly of the same age, was brown compared
with the other : she had a good .shape, fine teeth, languishing
eyes, a fresh complexion, an agreeable smile, and a hvely air.
Such was the outward form ; but it would be difficult to de
scribe the rest ; for she was simple and vain, credulous and
suspicious, coquettish and prudent, very self-sufficient and
very silly.
As soon as these new stars appeared at the duchess's court,
aU eyes were fixed upon them, and every one formed some
design upon one or other of them, some with honourable, and
others with dishonest intentions. Miss Jennings soon distin
guished herseh, and left her companions no other admhers
but such as remained constant from hopes of success : her
brilliant charms attracted at first sight, and the charms of her
wit secured her conquests.
The Duke of York having persuaded himseh that she was
part of his property, resolved to pursue his claim by the same
title whereby his brother had appropriated to himseh the
favours 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
* Anne, daughter of Thomas Temple of Frankton, in the county of
Warwick j by Rebecca, daughter of Sir Nicholas Carew, of Beddington,
in Surrey, knight She afterwards became the second wife of Sir
Charles Lyttelton, by whom she had five sons, and eight daughters.
She was grandmother of the 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. 2 G

268 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
ogling with which he at first attacked her. Her eyes were
always wandering on other objects, when those of his royal
highness were looking for them ; and if by chance he caught
any casual glance, she did not even blush. This made him
resolve to change his manner of attack : 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 pre
vailing than the eloquence of his eyes.
Miss Jennings had both virtue and pride, and the proposals
of the duke were consistent with neither the one nor the other.
Although from her great vivacity one might suppose that she
was not capable of much reflection, yet she had furnished her
seh with some very salutary maxims for the conduct of a
young person of her age. The first was, that a lady ought to
be young to enter the court with advantage, and not old to
leave it with a good grace : that she could not maintain her
seh there but by a glorious resistance, or by illustrious foibles :
and that, in so dangerous a situation, she ought to use her ut
most endeavours not to dispose of her heart until she gave
her hand.
Entertaining such sentiments, she had far less trouble to
resist the duke's temptations, than to disengage herseh from
his perseverance : she was deaf to all treaties for a settlement,
with which her ambition was sounded : and aU offers of pre
sents 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 ghl to
escape, whose inclinations ought in some manner to correspond
with the vivacity that shone forth in aU her actions, and who
nevertheless thought proper to be serious when no such thing
as seriousness was required of her.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 269
After he had attentively considered her obstinate behaviour,
he thought that writing might perhaps succeed, though ogling,
speeches, and embassies had failed. Paper receives everything,
but it unfortunately happened that she would not receive the
paper. Every day bUlets, containing the tenderest expressions,
and most magnificent promises, were shpped into her pockets,
or into her muff : this, however, could not be done unper-
ceived ; and the malicious httle gipsy took care that those who
saw them slip in, should hkewise see them faU out, unperused
and unopened ; she only shook her muff, or puUed out her
handkerchief; as soon as ever his back was turned, his bUlets
feU about her hke haU-stones, and whoever pleased might take
them up. The duchess was frequently a witness of this con
duct, but could not find 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 attractions, and its ex
ample by her conduct.
The king was of opinion that those who had attacked her
had Ul-concerted theh measures ; for he thought it unnatural
that she should neither be tempted by promises, nor gained by
importunity : she, especiaUy, who in aU probability had not
imbibed such severe precepts from the prudence of her mother,
who had never tasted any thing more dehcious than the plums
and apricots of Saint Albans.* Being resolved to try her
himseh, he was particularly pleased with the great novelty
that appeared in the turn of her wit, and in the charms of her
person ; and curiosity, which at first induced him to make the
• This town is in the neighbourhood of Sundridge, where Miss
Jennings's family resided.

270 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
trial, was soon changed into a desire of succeeding in the ex
periment. God knows what might have been the consequence,
for he greatly exceUed in wit, and besides he was king : two
quahties of no smaU consideration. The resolutions of the
fair Jennings were commendable, and very judicious ; but yet
she was wonderfully pleased with wit; and royal majesty
prostrate at the feet of a young person, is very persuasive.
Miss Stewart. ^wever, would not consent to the king's project.
She immediately took the alarm, and desired his majesty to
leave to the duke, his brother, the care of tutoring the duchess's
maids of honour, and only to attend to the management of
his own flock, unless his majesty would in return aUow her
to hsten to certain proposals of a settlement which she did
not think disadvantageous. This menace being of a serious
nature, the lung obeyed ; and Miss Jennings had aU the ad
ditional honour which arose from this adventure: it both
added to her reputation, and increased the number of her
admhers. 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
shaU relate as soon as we have given some account of the
conduct of her companion.
Though Miss Temple's person was particularly engaging, it
was nevertheless eclipsed by that of Miss Jennings ; but she
was stUl more exceUed by the other's superior mental ac
complishments. Two persons, very capable to impart under
standing, had the gift been communicable, undertook at the
same time to rob her of the little she reahy possessed: these
were Lord Rochester and Miss Hobart: the first began to
mislead her by reading to her aU his compositions, as if she
alone had been a proper judge of them. He never thought
proper to flatter her upon her personal accomplishments ; but

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 271
told her that if heaven had made him susceptible of the im
pressions of beauty, it would not have been possible for him
to have escaped her chains; but not being, thank God,
affected with anything but wit, he had the happiness of en
joying the most agreeable conversation in the world without
running any risk. After so sincere a confession he either
presented to her a copy of verses, or a new song, in which
whoever dared to come in competition in any respect with
Miss Temple was laid prostrate before her charms, most
humbly to solicit pardon : such flattering insinuations so
completely turned her head that it wa3 a pity to see her.
The duchess took notice of it, and well knowing the extent
of both their geniuses, she saw the precipice into which the
poor girl was running headlong without perceiving it ; but as
it is no less dangerous to forbid a connection that is not yet
thought of, than it is difficult to put an end to one that is
aheady weU estabhshed, Miss Hobart was charged to take
care, with aU possible discretion, that these frequent and long
conversations might not be attended with any dangerous con
sequences : with pleasure she accepted the commission, and
greatly flattered herseh with success.
She had aheady made aU necessary advances to gain pos
session of her confidence and friendship ; and Miss Temple,
less suspicious of her than of Lord Rochester, made aU
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 aU sorts of sweetmeats and hqueurs : the closet
suited Miss Temple's taste, as exactly as it gratified Miss
Hobart's inclination, to have something that could aUure her.

272 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Summer, being now returned, brought back with it the
pleasures and diversions that are its inseparable attendants.
One day, when the ladies had been taking the ah on horse
back, Miss Temple, on her return from riding, ahghted 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 deshed Miss Hobart's permission to
undress herself, and change her hnen in her apartment; which
request was immediately comphed with : " I was just going
to propose it to you," said Miss Hobart, "not but that you
are as charming as an angel in your riding habit ; but there
is nothing so comfortable as a loose dress, and being at one's
ease : you cannot imagine, my dear Temple," continued she,
embracing her, " how much you oblige me by this free un
ceremonious conduct; but, above aU, I am enchanted with
your particular attention to cleanliness: how greatly you
differ in this, as in many other things, from that silly creature
Jennings ! Have you remarked how aU our court fops admhe
her for her brilliant complexion, which perhaps, after aU, is
not whoUy her own ; and for blunders, which are truly original,
and which they are such fools as to mistake for wit: I have
not conversed with her long enough to perceive in what her
wit consists ; but of this I am certain, that if it is not better
than her feet, it is no great matter. What stories have I
heard of her sluttishness ! No cat ever dreaded water so
much as she does : fie upon her ! Never to wash for her own
comfort, and only to attend to those parts which must neces
sarily be seen, such as the neck and hands."
Miss Temple swaUowed aU this with even greater pleasure
than the sweetmeats ; and the officious Hobart, not to lose
time, was helping her off with her clothes, whUe the chamber
maid, was coming. She made some objections to this at first,

MISS HOBART HELPING OFF MISS TEMPLE WITH HER CLOTHES. Page 2J2.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 273
being unwilling to occasion that trouble to a person, who,
hke Miss Hobart, had been advanced to a place of dignity ;
but she was overruled by her, and assured that it was with
the greatest pleasure she showed her that smaU mark of
civility. The coUation being finished, and Miss Temple un
dressed : " Let us retire," said Miss Hobart, " to the bathing-
closet, where we may enjoy a httle 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 wUl 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 aU courtiers are deficient either in honesty,
good sense, judgment, wit, or sincerity ; that is to say, if any
of them by chance possess some one of these quahties, you
may depend upon it he is defective in the rest : sumptuous in
their equipages, deep play, a great opinion of theh own merit,
and contempt of that of others, are their chief characteristics.
" Interest or pleasure are the motives of aU their actions :
those who are led by the first would seU God Almighty, as
Judas sold his Master, and that for less money. I could relate
you a thousand noble instances of this, if I had time. As for
the sectaries of pleasure, or those who pretend to be such, for
they are not aU so bad as they endeavour to make themselves
appear, these gentlemen pay no manner of regard either to
promises, oaths, law, or rehgion; that is to say, they are
hteraUy no respecters of persons ; they care neither for God nor
man, if they can but gain theh ends. They look upon maids
of honour only as amusements, placed expressly at court for

274 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
theh entertainment ; and the more merit any one has, the more
she is exposed to their impertmence, if she gives any ear to
them ; and to theh malicious calumnies, when she ceases to
attend to them. As for husbands, this is not the place to find
them ; for unless mdney or caprice make up the match, there
is but httle hopes of being married : virtue and beauty in this
respect here are equaUy useless. Lady Falmouth is the only
instance of a maid of honour well married without a portion ;
and if you were to ask her poor weak husband for what reason
he married her, I am persuaded that he can assign none, unless
it be her great red ears and broad feet. As for the pale Lady
Yarborough, who appeared so proud of her match, she is wife,
to be sure, of a great country bumpkin, who, the very week
after theh marriage, bid her take her fareweU of the town for
ever, in consequence of five or six thousand pounds a year he
enjoys on the borders of Cornwall. Alas ! poor Miss Blague !
I. saw her go away about this time twelvemonth, in a coach
with four such lean horses, that I cannot beheve she is yet
hah way to her miserable httle castle. What can be the
matter ! aU the ghls seem afflicted with the rage of wedlock,
and however smaU their portion of charms may be, they think
it only necessary to show themselves at court in order to pick
and choose theh men : but was this in reality the case, the
being a whe is the most wretched condition imaginable for a
person of nice sentiments. Beheve me, my dear Temple, the
pleasures of matrimony are so inconsiderable in comparison
with its inconveniences, that I cannot imagine how any reason
able creature can resolve upon it : rather fly, therefore, from
. this irksome engagement than court it. Jealousy, formerly
a stranger to these happy isles, is now coming into fashion,
with many recent examples of which you are acquainted.
However brilhant the phantom may appear, suffer not yourseh

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 275
to be caught by its splendour, and never be so weak as to
transform your slave into your tyrant : as long as you preserve
your own hberty, you wiU be mistress of that of others. I
wUl relate to you a very recent proof of the perfidy of man to
our sex, and of the impunity they experience in aU attempts
upon our innocence. The Earl of Oxford feU in love with a
handsome, graceful actress belonging to the duke's theatre *
who performed to perfection, particularly the part of Roxana,
in a very fashionable new play, insomuch that she ever after
retained that name : this creature being both very virtuous
and very modest, or, if you please, wonderfuUy obstinate,
proudly rejected the addresses and presents of the Earl of
Oxford. This resistance inflamed his passion : he had recourse
to invectives, and even to spells ; but aU in vain. This disap
pointment had such effect upon him that he could neither
eat nor drink ; this did not signhy to him ; but bis passion
t This was Aubrey de Vere, the last Earl of Oxford of that name,
and the twentieth and last earl of that family. He was chief justice
in eyre ; and in the reign of Charles II. lord of the bed-chamber, privy
councillor, colonel of the royal regiment of horse guards, and lord-
lieutenant of the county of Essex ; and lieutenant-general of the forces
in the reign of "William III., and also knight of the garter. He died
March 12th, 1702, aged 80 years, and upwards, and was buried in
"Westminster-abbey. The author of a History of the English Stage,
published by Curl, 1741, 8vo., says, that Mrs. Marshall, a celebrated
actress, more known by the name of Box.iua, from acting that part, was
the person deceived by the Earl of Oxford in this manner. The parti
culars of the story, as there related, do not materially vary from the
present account of the transaction. A more detailed narrative of this
seduction is given in Madame Dunois's Memoirs of the Court of England,
part 2. p. 71. Mrs. Marshall, who was the original 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. Barker to this lady ; a name totally unknown, I believe, in the
annals of the stage. 2 H

276 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
at length became so violent, that he could neither play nor
smoke. In this extremity love had recourse to Hymen;
the Earl of Oxford, one of the first peers of the realm,
is, you know, a very handsome man : he is of the order
of the garter, which greatly adds to an ah naturaUy noble. In
short, from his outward appearance, you would suppose he was
reaUy possessed of some sense ; but as soon as ever you hear
him speak, you are perfectly convinced of the contrary.
This passionate lover presented her with a promise of mar
riage, in due form, signed with his own hand : she would
not, however, rely upon this, but the next day she thought
there could be no danger, when the earl himseh came
to her lodgings attended by a clergyman, and another man
for a witness : the marriage was accordingly solemnized
with aU due ceremonies, in the presence of one of her feUow-
players, who attended as a witness on her part. You wUl sup
pose, perhaps, that the new countess had nothing to do but to
appear at court according to her rank, and to display the earl's
arms upon her carriage. This was far from being the case.
When examination was made concerning the marriage, it was
found to be a mere deception : it appeared that the pretended
priest was one of my lord's trumpeters, and the witness his
kettle drummer. The parson and his companion never ap
peared after the ceremony was over ; and as for the other wit
ness, they endeavoured to persuade her, that the Sultana Roxana
might have supposed, in some part or other of a play, that she
was reaUy married. It was aU to no purpose, that the poor
creature claimed the protection of the laws of God and man,
both which were violated and abused, as weU as herseh, by
this infamous imposition : in vain did she throw herseh at the
King's feet to demand justice : she had only to rise up again
without redress ; and happy might she think herseh to receive

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 277
an annuity of one thousand crowns, and to resume the name
of Roxana, instead of Countess of Oxford. You wUl say, per
haps, that she was only a player ; that aU men have not the
same sentiments as the earl ; and, that one may at least be
heve them, when they do but render justice to such merit as
yours. But stUl do not beheve them, though I know you are
hable to it, as you have admhers ; for aU are not infatuated
with Miss Jennings : the handsome Sydney ogles you ; Lord
Rochester is delighted with your conversation ; and the most
serious Sir  Lyttleton forsakes his natural gravity in
favour of your charms. As for the first, I confess his figure is
very likely to engage the inchnations of a young person hke
yourseh ; but were his outward form attended with other ac
complishments, which I know it is not, and that his sentiments
in your favour were as real as he endeavours to persuade you
they are, and as you deserve, yet I would not advise you to
form any connections with him, for reasons which I cannot
teU you at present.
" Sir  Lyttleton* is undoubtedly in earnest, since he
appears ashamed of the condition to which you have reduced
him ; and I reaUy beheve if he could get the better of those
vulgar chimerical apprehensions, of being what is vulgarly
caUed a cuckold, the good man would marry you, and you
would be his representative in his httle government, where
you might merrily pass your days in casting up the weekly
bills of housekeeping, and in darning old napkins. What a
glory would it be to have a Cato for a husband, whose
speeches are as many lectures, and whose lectures are com
posed of nothing but Ulnature and censure !
" Lord Rochester is, without contradiction, the most witty
man in aU England ; but then he is likewise the most unprin-
* Sir Charles Lyttelton : of whom see Note on p. 246.

278 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
cipled, and devoid even of the least tincture of honour; he is
dangerous to our sex alone ; and that to such a degree that
there is not a woman who gives ear to him three times, but
she irretrievably loses her reputation. No woman can escape
him, for he has her in his writings, though his other attacks
be ineffectual ; and in the age we hve in, the one is as bad as
the other in the eye of the public. In' the mean time nothing
is more dangerous than the artful insinuating manner with
which he gains possession of the mind: he applauds your
taste, submits to your sentiments, and at the very instant that
he himseh does not beheve a single word of what he is saying,
he makes you beheve it aU. I dare lay a wager, that from the
conversation you have had with him, you thought him one of
the most honourable and sincerest men hving ; 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 lovehest creature at court : for
it is a long time since his debauches have brought him to
order, with the assistance of the favours of aU the common
street- walkers. See then, my dear Temple, what horrid mahce
possesses him, to the ruin and confusion of innocence ! A
wretch ! to have no other design in his addresses and assidu
ities to Mis3 Temple, but to give a greater air of probability
to the calumnies with which he has loaded her. You look
upon me with astonishment, and seem to doubt the truth of
what I advance ; but I do not desire you to beheve me with
out evidence : ' Here,' said she, drawing a paper out of her
pocket, ' see what a copy of verses he has made in your praise,
whUe he luUe your credulity to rest, by flattering speeches and
feigned respect,' "

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 279
After saying this, the perfidious Hobart showed her half-a-
dozen couplets fuU of strained invective and scandal, which
Rochester had made against the former maids of honour. This
severe and cutting lampoon was principahy leveUed 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 believed it to be
made upon herself ; and in the first transports of her rage,
having nothing so much at heart as to give the he to the
fictions of the poet : " Ah ! as for this, my dear Hobart," said
she, "I can bear it no longer: I do not pretend to be so hand
some as some others ; but as for the defects that villain charges
me with, I dare say, my dear Hobart, there is no woman more
free from them : we are alone, and I am almost indined to
convince you by ocular demonstration." Miss Hobart was too
complaisant to oppose this motion ; but, although she soothed
her mind by extolling aU her beauties, in opposition to Lord
Rochester's song, Miss Temple was almost driven to distrac
tion by rage and astonishment, that the first man she ever
attended to should, in his conversation with her, not even
make use of a single word of truth, but that he should hkewise
have the unparaUeled cruelty falsely to accuse her of defects;
and not being able to find words capable of expressing her
anger and resentment, she began to weep hke a child.
Miss Hobart used aU her endeavours to comfort her, and
chid her for being so much hurt with the invectives of a person
whose scandalous impostures were too weU known to make
any impression : she however advised her never to speak to
him any more, for that was the only method to disappoint his

280 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
designs ; that contempt and sUence were, on such occasions,
much preferable to any explanation, and that if he could once
obtain a hearing, he would be justified, but she would be
ruined. Miss Hobart was not wrong in giving her this counsel : she
knew that an explanation would betray her, and that there
would be no quarter for her if Lord Rochester had so fair an
opportunity of renewing his former panegyrics upon her ; but
her precaution was in vain : this conversation had been heard
from one end to the other, by the governess's niece, who was
blessed with a most faithful memory ; and having that very
day an appointment with Lord Rochester, she conned it over
three or four times, that she might not forget one single word,
when she should have the honour of relating it to her lover.
We shah show in the next chapter, what were the consequences
resulting from it.

FRANCES STEWART, DUCHESS OF RICHMOND.

CHAPTER TENTH.

OTHER LOVE INTRIGUES AT THE ENGLISH COURT.

SHE conversation before related was agreeable
only to Miss Hobart ; for if Miss Temple was
entertained with its commencement, she was
so much the more irritated by its conclusion :
this indignation was succeeded by the curiosity of knowing
the reason why, if Sidney had a real esteem for her, she
should not be allowed to pay some attention to him.
As soon as they retired from the closet, Miss Sarah came
out of the bath, where during aU this conversation, she had
been almost perished with cold, without daring to complain.
This little gipsy had, it seems, obtained leave of Miss Hobart's
woman to bathe herself unknown to her mistress ; and having,
I know not how, found means to fill one of the baths with
283

284 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
cold water, Miss Sarah had just got into it, when they were
both alarmed with the arrival of the other two. A glass par
tition enclosed the room where the baths were, and Indian sUk
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 partition,
and Mis3 Sarah, notwithstanding her alarms, had distinctly
heard, and perfectly retained the whole conversation. As the
little girl was at all this trouble to make herseh clean, only on
Lord Rochester'3 account, as soon as ever she could make her
escape she regained her garret ; where Rochester, having re
paired thither at the appointed hour, was fully informed of aU
that had passed in the bathing-room. He was astonished at
the audacious temerity of Hobart, in daring to put such a
trick upon him ; but, though he rightly judged that love and
jealousy were the real motives, he would not excuse her.
Little Sarah desired to know whether he had a real affection
for Miss Temple, as Miss Hobart said she supposed that was
the case. " Can you doubt it," rephed he, " since that oracle
of sincerity has affirmed it ? But then you know that I am
not now capable of profiting by my perfidy, were I even to
gain Miss Temple's compliance, since my debauches and the
street-walkers have brought me to order."
This answer made Miss Sarah very easy, for she concluded
that the first article was not true, since she knew from expe
rience that the latter was false. Lord Rochester was resolved
that very evening to attend the duchess's court, to see what
reception he would meet with after the fine portrait Miss
Hobart had been so kind as to draw of him. Miss Temple

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. eSS
did not fail to be there hkewise, with the intention of looking
on him with the most contemptuous disdain possible, though
she had taken care to dress herself as weU as she could.
As she supposed that the lampoon Miss Hobart had sung to
her was in everybody's possession, she was under great em
barrassment lest aU those whom she met should think her
such a monster as Lord Rochester had described her. In the
mean time, Miss Hobart, who had not much confidence in
her promises never more to speak to him, narrowly watched
her. Miss Temple never in her hfe appeared so handsome :
every person complimented her upon it ; but she received aU
the civilities with such an ah, that every one thought she was
mad ; for when they commended her shape, her fresh com
plexion, and the brilliancy of her eyes : " Pshaw," said she,
" it is very weU known that I am but a monster, and formed in
no respect hke other women : aU is not gold that glisters ; and
though I may receive some compliments in pubhc, it signifies
nothing." AU Miss Hobart's endeavours to stop her tongue
were ineffectual ; and continuing to raU at herseh honicaUy,
the whole court was puzzled to comprehend 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 untU he
paid his compliments to her as usual, and as soon as he began
to bow, the fah 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
himseh face to face : " Madam," said he, " nothing can be so
glorious as to look so charming as you do, after such a fatiguing
day: to support a ride of three long hours, and Miss Hobart
afterwards, without being tired, shows indeed a very strong
constitution."

286 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Miss Temple had naturaUy a tender look, but she was
transported with such a violent passion at his having the
audacity to speak to her, that her eyes appeared like two fire
balls when she turned them upon him. Hobart pinched her
arm, as she perceived that this look was likely to be foUowed
by a torrent of reproaches and invectives.
Lord Rochester did not wait for them, and delaying until
another opportunity the acknowledgments he owed Miss
Hobart, he quietly rethed. The latter, who could not imagine
that he knew anything of thrir conversation at the bath, was,
however, much alarmed al what he had said; but Miss
Temple, almost choked with the reproaches with which she
thought herseh able to confound him and which she had not
time to give vent to, vowed to ease her mind of them upon the
first opportunity, notwithstanding the promise she had made;
but never more to speak to him afterwards.
Lord Rochester had a faithful spy near these nymphs : this
was Miss Sarah, who, by bis advice, and with her aunt's
consent, was reconciled with Miss Hobart, the more effectually
to betray her : he was informed by this spy, that Miss Hobart's
maid, being suspected of having listened to them in the closet,
had been turned away ; that she had taken another, whom in
all probability, she would not keep long, because, in the first
place, she was ugly, and, in the second, she eat the sweetmeats
that were prepared for Miss Temple. Although this intelli
gence wa3 not very material, Sarah was nevertheless praised
for her punctuality and attention ; and a few days afterwards
she brought him news of real importance.
Rochester was by her informed, that Miss Hobart and her
new favourite designed, about nhie o'clock in the evening to
walk in the MaU, in the Park ; that they were to change
clothes with each other, to put on scarfs, and wear black

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 287
masks : she added, that Miss Hobart had strongly opposed
this project, but that she was obliged to give way at last, Miss
Temple having resolved to indulge her fancy.
Upon the strength of this intelligence, Rochester concerted
his measures : he went to KUlegrew, complained to him of
the trick which Miss Hobart had played him, and desired his
assistance in order to be revenged : this was readily granted,
and having acquainted him with the measures he intended to
pursue, and given him the part he was to act in this adven
ture, they went to the MaU.
Presently after appeared our two nymphs in masquerade :
their shapes were not very different, and their faces, which
were very unlike each other, were concealed with theh masks.
The company was but thin in the Park ; and as soon as Miss
Temple perceived them at a distance, she quickened her pace
in order to join them, with the design, under her disguise,
severely to reprimand the perfidious Rochester ; when Miss
Hobart stopping her : " Where are you running to 1" said she ;
" have you a mind to engage in conversation with these two
devUs, to be exposed to aU the insolence and impertinence for
which they are so notorious ?" These remonstrances were
entirely useless : Miss Temple was resolved to try the expe
riment : and aU that could be obtained from her, was, not to
answer any of the questions Rochester might ask her.
They were accosted just as they had done speaking : Roches
ter fixed upon Hobart, pretending to take her for the other ; at
which she was overjoyed ; but Miss Temple was extremely
sorry she feU to KUlegrew's share, with whom she had nothing
to do : he perceived her uneasiness, and, pretending to know
her by her clothes : " Ah ! Miss Hobart," said he, " be so kind
as look this way if you please : I know not by what chance
you both came hither, but I am sure it is very apropos for

288 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
you, since I have something to say to you, as your friend and
humble servant."
This beginning raising her curiosity, Miss Temple appeared
more inchned to attend him ; and KUlegrew 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 honourable men at court, and whom you
nevertheless described as the greatest viUain, to the person
whom of aU others he esteems and respects the most ? What
do you think would become of you, if he knew that you made
Miss Temple beheve she is the person aUuded to in a certain
song, which you know as well as myself was made upon the
clumsy Miss Price, above a year before the fah Temple was
heard of? Be not surprised that I know so much of the
matter ; but pay a httle attention, I pray you, to what I am
now going to teU you out of pure friendship : your passion
and inclinations for Miss Temple are known to every one but
herseh; for whatever methods you used to impose upon her in
nocence, the world does her the justice to beheve that she would
treat you as Lady Falmouth did, if the poor girl knew the
wicked designs you had upon her : I caution you, therefore,
against making any farther advances, to a person, too modest
to listen to them : I advise you likewise to take back your
maid again, in order to sUence her scandalous tongue ; for she
says everywhere, that she is with chUd, that you are the
occasion of her being in that condition, and accuses you of
behaving towards her with the blackest ingratitude, upon
trifling suspicions only : you know very weU, these are no
stories of my own invention ; but that you may not entertain
any manner of doubt, that I had aU this from her own mouth,
she has told me your conversation in the bathing-room, the

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 289
characters you there drew of the principal men at court, your
artful mahce in applying so improperly a scandalous song to
one of the lovehest women in aU England ; and in what
manner the innocent ghl feU into the snare you had laid for
her, in order to do justice to her charms. But that which
might be of the most fatal consequences to you in that long
conversation, is the revealing certain secrets, which, in aU
probability, the duchess did not entrust you with, to be
imparted to the maids of honour : reflect upon this, and neg
lect not to make some reparation to Sir  Lyttleton, for
the ridicule with which you were pleased to load him. I
know not whether he had his information from your femnie-
de-chambre, but I am very certain that he has sworn he wUl
be revenged, and he is a man that keeps his word ; for after
aU, that you may not be deceived by his look, like that of a
Stoic, and his gravity, hke that of a judge, I must acquaint
you, that he is the most passionate man living.- Indeed, these
invectives are of the blackest and most horrible nature : he
says it is most infamous, that a wretch hke yourseh 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 wUl immediately com
plain of you ; and that if her royal highness wiU not do him
justice, he is determined to do himseh justice, and to run you
through the body with his own sword, though you were even
in the arms of Miss Temple ; and that it is most scandalous
that aU the maids of honour should get into your hands before
they can look around them.
" These things, madam, I thought it my duty to acquaint
you with : you are better able to judge than myself, whether
what I have now advanced be true, and I leave it to your
own discretion to make what use you think proper of my

29o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
advice •; but were I in your situation, I would endeavour to
reconcile Lord Rochester and Miss Temple. Once more I
recommend to you to take care that your endeavours to mis
lead her innocency, in order to blast his honour, may not
come to his knowledge ; and do not estrange from her a man
who tenderly loves her, and whose probity is so great, that
he would not even suffer his eyes to wander towards her, if
his intention was not to make her his whe."
Miss Temple observed her promise most faithfuUy during
this discourse : she did not even utter a single syUable, 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 stiU in amazement at the wonderful discoveries she had
made ; things in themselves, in her opinion, almost incredible,
but to the truth of which she could not refuse her assent,
upon examining the evidences and chcumstances on which
they were founded. Never was confusion equal to that with
which her whole frame was seized by the foregoing recital.
Rochester and KUlegrew took leave of them before she
recovered from her surprise ; but as soon as she had regained
the free use of her senses, she hastened back" to St. James,
without answering a single question that the other put to
her ; and having locked herseh 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 fah sex, of
whatever sex she might be : she blushed at the familiarities
she had been drawn into with a creature, whose maid was
with chUd, though she never had been in any other service
but hers : she therefore returned her aU her clothes, ordered

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 291
her servant to bring back aU her own, and resolved never
more to have any connection with her. Miss Hobart, on the
other hand, who supposed KUlegrew had mistaken Miss
Temple for herseh, could not comprehend what could induce
her to give herseh such surprising airs, since that conver
sation ; but being deshous 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 deshous to give her some proof
of friendship before they entered upon expostulations, she
slipt softly into her chamber, when she was in the very act
of changing her linen, and embraced her. Miss Temple
finding herseh in her arms before she had taken notice of
her, everything that KUlegrew had mentioned, appeared to
her imagination : she fancied that she saw in her looks the
eagerness of a satyr, or, if possible, of some monster still
more odious ; and disengaging herseh with the highest in
dignation from her arms, she began to shriek and cry in the
most terrible manner, calling both heaven and earth to her
assistance. The first whom her cries raised were the governess and
her niece. It was near twelve o'clock at night : Miss Temple
in her shift, almost frightened to death, was pushing back
with horror Miss Hobart, who approached her with no other
intent than to know the occasion of those transports. As
soon as the governess saw this scene, she began to lecture
Miss Hobart with aU the eloquence of a real duenna : she
demanded of her, whether she thought it was for her that her
royal highness kept the maids of honour ? whether she was
not ashamed to come at such an unseasonable time of night
into theh very apartments to commit such violences ? and
swore that she would, the very next day, complain to the

2t)2 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
duchess. AU this confirmed Miss Temple in her mistaken
notions : and Hobart was obhged to go away at last, without
being able to convince or bring to reason creatures, whom she
believed to be either distracted or mad. The next day Miss
Sarah did not fail to relate this adventure to her lover,
telling him how Miss Temple's cries had alarmed the maids
of honour's apartment, and how herseh and her aunt, run
ning to her assistance, had almost surprised Miss Hobart in
the very act.
Two days after, the whole adventure, with the addition of
several embeUishments, was made pubhc: the governess
swore to the truth of it, and related in every company what
a narrow escape Miss Temple had experienced, and that
Miss Sarah, her niece, had preserved her honour, because, by
Lord Rochester's exceUent advice, she had forbidden her aU
manner of connection with so dangerous a person. Miss Tem
ple was afterwards informed, that the song that had so greatly
provoked her, aUuded to Miss Price only : this was confirmed
to her by every person, with additional execrations against
Miss Hobart, for such a scandalous imposition. Such great
coldness after so much familiarity, made many beheve, 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 weU as upon a former
occasion, supported by the duchess : her royal highness pre
tended to treat the whole story as romantic and visionary, or
as solely arising from private pique : she chid Miss Temple,
for her impertinent credulity : turned away the governess and
her niece, for the hes with which she pretended they sup
ported the imposture ; and did many improper things in order
to re-estabhsh Miss Hobart's honour, which, however, she

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 293
faded in accomplishing. She had her reasons for not entirely
abandoning her, as wUl appear in the sequel.
Miss Temple, who continually reproached herseh with in
justice, with respect to Lord Rochester, and who, upon the
faith of KUlegrew's word, thought him the most honourable
man in England, was only sohcitous to find out some oppor
tunity of easing her mind, by making him some reparation
for the rigour with which she had treated him : these favour
able dispositions, in the hands of a man of his character,
might have led to consequences of which she was not aware ;
but heaven did not aUow him an opportunity of profiting by
them. Ever since he had first appeared at court he seldom failed
being banished from it, at least once in the year ; for when
ever a word presented itseh to his pen, or to his tongue, he
immediately committed it to paper, or produced it in conver
sation, without any manner of regard to the consequences :
the ministers, the mistresses, and even the king himseh, were
frequently the subjects of his sarcasms; and had not the
prince, whom he thus treated, been possessed of one of the
most forgiving and gentle tempers, his first disgrace had cer
tainly been his last.
Just at the time that Miss Temple was desirous of seeing
him, in order to apologize for the uneasiness which the in
famous calumnies and black aspersions of Miss Hobart had
occasioned both of them, he was forbid the court for the third
time : he departed without having seen Miss Temple, carried
the disgraced governess down with him to his country seat,
and exerted aU his endeavours to cultivate in her niece some
dispositions which she had for the stage ; but though she did
not make the same improvement in this line, as she had by
bis other instructions, after he had entertained both the niece

294 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
and the aunt for some months in the country, he got her
entered in the king's company of comedians the next winter ;
and the public was obliged to him for the prettiest, but at the
same time, the worst actress in the kingdom.*
* Though no name is given to this lady, there are circumstances
enough mentioned to fix on the celebrated Mrs. Barry, as the person
intended by the author. Mrs. Barry was introduced to the stage by
Lord Rochester, with whom she had an intrigue, the fruit of which was
a daughter, who lived to the age of thirteen years, and is often men
tioned in his collection of love-letters, printed in his works, which were
written to Mrs. Barry. On her first theatrical attempts, so httle hopes
were entertained of her, that she was, as Cibber declares, discharged the
company at the end of the first year, among others that were thought
to be a useless expense to it. She was well born ; being daughter of
Robert Barry, Esq., barrister at law ; a. gentleman of an ancient family
and good estate, who hurt his fortune by his attachment to Charles I. ;
for whom he raised a regiment at his own expense. Tony Aston, in his
Supplement to Gibber's Apology, says, she was woman to lady Shelton
of Norfolk, who might have belonged to the court. Curl, however, says,
she was early taken under the patronage of Lady Davenant. Both these
accounts may be true. The time of her appearance on the stnge was
probably not much earlier that 1671 ; in which year she performed in
Tom Essence, and was, it may be conjectured, about the age of nineteen.
Curl mentions the great pains taken by Lord Rochester in instructing
her ; which were repaid by the rapid progress she daily made in her
profession. She at last eclipsed all her competitors, and in the part of
Monimia established her reputation. From her performance in tbis
character, in that of Belvidera, and of Isabella, in the Fatal Marriage,
Downes says she acquired the name of the famous Mrs. Barry, both at
court and in the city. " Mrs. Barry," says Dryden, in his Preface to
Cleomenes, ''always excellent, has in this tragedy excelled herself, and
gained a reputation beyond any woman I have ever seen on the
theatre." " In characters of greatness," says Cibber, " Mrs. Barry had
a presence of elevated dignity ; her mien and motion superb, and grace
fully majestic ; her voice full, clear, and strong ; so that no violence of
passion could be too much for her ; and when distress or tenderness
possessed her, she subsided into the most affecting melody and softness.
In the art of exciting pity, she had a power beyond all the actresses I
have yet seen, or what your imagination can conceive. In scenes of

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 295
About this time Talbot returned from Ireland : he soon felt
the absence of Miss HamUton, who was then in the country
with a relation, whom we shaU mention hereafter. A rem
nant of his former tenderness stiU subsisted in his heart, not
withstanding his absence, and the promises he had given the
Chevaher de Grammont at parting: he now therefore en
deavoured to banish her enthely from his thoughts, by fixing
his deshes upon some other object; but he saw no one in the
queen's new court whom he thought worthy of his attention :

anger, defiance, or resentment, while she was impetuous and terrible,
she poured out the sentiment with an enchanting harmony ; and it was
this particular excellence for which Dryden made her the above-recited
compliment, upon her acting Cassandra in his Cleomenes. She was the
first person whose merit was distinguished by the indulgence of having
an annual benefit play, which was granted to her alone in King James's
time, and which did not become common to others till the division of
this company, after the death of King William and Queen Mary." —
Gibber's Apology, 1750, p. 133. Tony Aston says, "' she was not hand
some : her mouth opening most on the right side, which she strove to
draw t'other way ; and at times composing her face, as if sitting for
her picture : she was," he adds, " middle-sized ; had darkish hair, light
eyes, and was indifferently plump. In tragedy, she was solemn and
august ; in comedy, alert, easy, and genteel ; pleasant in her face and
action ; filling the stage with variety of gesture. She could neither sing
nor dance ; no, not in a country dance." — Supplement to Gibber, p. 7.
The printed letters in Otway's works are generally supposed to have
been addressed to her. She adhered to Betterton in all the revolutions
of the theatre, which she quitted about 1708, on account of her health.
The last new character, of any consequence, which she performed, seems
to have been Phsedra, iu Mr. Smith's tragedy. She returned, however,
for one night, with Mrs. Bracegirdle, April 7, 1709 ; and performed
Mrs. Frail, in Love for Love, for Mr. Betterton's benefit ; and afterwards
spoke an occasional epilogue, written by Mr. Rowe. She died 7th
November, 1713, and was buried at Acton. The inscription over her
remains says she was 55 years of age. 2 K

20.6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Miss Boynton,* however, thought him worthy of hers. Her
person was slender and dehcate, to which a good complexion
and large motionless eyes gave at a distance an appearance
of beauty, that vanished upon nearer inspection : she affected
to lisp, to languish, and to have two or three fainting-fits a
day. The first time that Talbot cast his eyes upon her she
was seized with one of these fits : he was told that she swooned
away upon his account : he beheved it, was eager to afford
her assistance ; and ever after that accident showed her some
kindness, more with the intention of saving her hfe, than to
express any affection he felt for her. This seeming tenderness
was weU received, and at first she was visibly affected by it.
Talbot was one of the taUest men in England, and in aU
appearance one of the most robust; yet she showed suffi
ciently that she was willing to expose the delicacy of her
constitution, to whatever might happen, in order to become
his whe ; which event perhaps might then have taken place,
as it did afterwards, had not the charms of the fah 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 equaUy commended; he beheved aU this
upon the faith of common report. He thought it very sin
gular that discretion and sprighthness should be so intimately
united in a person so young, more particularly in the midst
of a court where love and gaUantry were so much in fashion ;
but he found her personal accomplishments greatly to exceed
whatever fame had reported of them.
As it was not long before he perceived he was in love,
* Daughter of Matthew Boynton, second son of Sir Matthew Boyn
ton of Barmston, in Yorkshire. The sister of this lady married the
celebrated Earl of Roscommon.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, 297
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 beheve him, without exposing herseh to the im
putation of vanity. Talbot was possessed of a fine and
briUiant exterior, his manners were noble and majestic : be
sides this, he was particularly distinguished by the favo'ur and
friendship of the duke ; but bis most essential merit, with her,
was his forty thousand pounds a-year, landed property, besides
bis employments. AU these quahties came within the rules
and maxims she had resolved to f oUow with respect to lovers :
thus, though he had not the satisfaction to obtain from her an
enthe declaration of her sentiments, he had at least the plea
sure of being better received than those who had paid theh
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 weU weighed the matter, and
consulted her own inclinations, found that her reason was
more favourable to him than her heart, and that the most she
could do for his satisfaction was to marry him without re
luctance. Talbot, too fortunate in a preference which no man had
before experienced, did not examine whether it was to her
heart or to her head that he was indebted for it, and his
thoughts were solely occupied in hastening the accomplish
ment of his wishes : one would have sworn that the happy
minute was at hand ; but love would no longer be love, if he
did not dehght 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

298 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
lately formed ; and having taken upon him to give her some
cautions upon this subject, she was much displeased at his
conduct. Miss Price, formerly maid of honour, that had been- set
aside, as we have before mentioned, upon her leaving the
duchess's service, had recourse to Lady Castlemaine's protec
tion : she had a very entertaining wit : her complaisance was
adapted to aU humours, and her own humour was possessed of
a fund of gaiety and sprighthness which diffused universal
mhth and merriment wherever she came. Her acquaintance
with Miss Jennings was prior to Talbot's.
As she was thoroughly acquainted with aU the intrigues of
the court, she related them without any manner of reserve to
Miss Jennings, and her own with the same frankness as the
others : Miss Jennings was extremely weU pleased with her
stories ; for though she was determined to make no experiment
in love, but upon honourable terms, she however was deshous
of knowing from her recitals, aU 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
especiaUy from the particular intimacy there seemed to exist
between them : whereupon, in the tone of a guardian rather
than a lover, he took upon him to chide her for the disre
putable company she kept. Miss Jennings was haughty be
yond conception, when once she took it into her head ; and as
she liked Miss Price's conversation much better than Talbot's,
she took the hberty 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

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 299
he pleased." He was offended at a saUy which he thought
Ul-timed, considering the situation of affairs between them ;
and went out of her presence more abruptly than became the
respect due from a man greatly in love. He for some time
appeared offended ; but perceiving that he gained nothing by
such conduct, he grew weary of acting that part, and assumed
that of an humble lover, in which he was equaUy unsuccessful;
neither his repentance nor submissions could produce any
effect upon her, and the mutinous httle gipsy was stiU in her
pouts when Jermyn returned to court.
It was above a year since he had triumphed over the weak
ness of Lady Castlemaine, and above two since the king had
been weary of his triumphs : his uncle, being uue of the first
who perceived the king's disgust, obhged him to absent him
seh 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 t.hinlr it consistent with his dignity that a mistress, whom
he had honoured with pubhc distinction, and who stiU received
a considerable support from him, should appear chained to the
car of the most ridiculous conqueror that ever existed. His
majesty had frequently expostulated with the countess upon
this subject : but his expostulations were never attended to ; it
was in one of these differences that he, advising her rather to
bestow her favours upon Jacob 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 honourable for her to
pass for the mistress of the first, than for the very humble
servant of the other, she was not proof against his raUlery.
The impetuosity of her temper broke forth hke lightning : she
told him " that it very iU became him to throw out such ie-

300 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
proaches against one, who, of aU the women in England, de
served them the least ; that he had never ceased quarrelling
thus unjustly with her, ever since he had betrayed his, own
mean low inchnations ; that to gratify such a depraved taste
as his, he wanted only such siUy things as Stewart, Wells, and
that pitiful strolling actress* whom he had lately introduced
into theh society." Floods of tears,from rage, generaUy attended
these storms ; after which, resuming the part of Medea, the
scene closed with menaces of tearing her children in pieces,
and setting his palace on fire. What course could he pursue
with such an outrageous fury, who, beautiful as she was,
resembled Medea less than her dragons, when she was thus
enraged !
The indulgent monarch loved peace ; and as he seldom
contended for it on these occasions without paying something
to obtain it, he was obhged to be at great expense, in order to
reconcUe this last rupture : as they could not agree of them
selves, and both parties equaUy complained, the Chevalier de
Grammont was chosen, by mutual consent, mediator of the
treaty. The grievances and pretensions on each side were
communicated to him, and what is very extraordinary, he
managed so as to please them both Here foUow the articles
of peace, which they agreed to :
" That Lady Castlemaine should for ever abandon Jermyn ;
that as a proof of her sincerity, and the reality of his disgrace,
she should consent to his being sent, for some time, into the
country; that she should not raU any more against Miss
Wells, nor storm any more against Miss Stewart ; and this
without any restraint on the king's behaviour towards her :
that in consideration of these condescensions, his majesty
* Probably Nell Gwyn.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 301
should immediately give her the title of duchess,* with aU
the honours 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 aU nations, never faU to censure aU state proceedings,
pretended that the mediator of this treaty, being every day at
play with Lady Castlemaine, and never losing, had, for his
own sake, insisted a httle too strongly upon this last article.
Some days after, she was created Duchess of Cleveland,
and httle Jermyn repaired to his country-seat : however, it
was in his power to have returned in a fortnight; for the
Chevaher de Grammont, having procured the king's per
mission, carried it to the Earl of St. Alban's : this revived the
good old man ; but it was to httle 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
raU against the tyranny of the prince, he continued above
half a year in the country, setting up for a httle phUosopher,
under the eyes of the sportsmen in the neighbourhood, who
regarded him as an extraordinary instance of the caprice of
fortune. He thought the part he acted so glorious, that he
would have continued there much longer had he not heard of
Miss Jennings : he did not, however, pay much attention to
what his friends wrote to him concerning her charms, being
persuaded he had seen equaUy as great in others : what was
related to him of her pride and resistance, appeared to him of
far greater consequence; and to subdue the last, he even
looked upon as an action worthy of his prowess ; and quitting
* The title of Duchess of Cleveland was conferred on her 3rd August,
22 Charles IT., 1670.

302 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.'
his retreat for tins purposo, he anived in London at the time
that Talbot, who was reaUy in love, had quarreUed, in his
opinion, so unjustly with Miss Jennings.
She had heard Jermyn spoken of as a hero in affairs of love
and gaUantry. 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 himseh in those amorous en
counters: she nevertheless had the greatest curiosity to see a
man, whose en the person, she thought, must be a moving tro
phy, and monument of the favours and freedoms of the
fair sex.
Thus Jermyn arrived at the right time to satisfy her curiosity
by his presence ; and though his brilliancy appeared a Httle
tarnished by his residence in the country ; though his head
was larger, and his legs more slender than usual, yet the giddy
girl thought she had never seen any man so perfect; and
yielding to her destiny, she feU in love with him, a thousand
times more unaccountably than aU the others had done before
her. Everybody remarked this change of conduct in her with
surprise ; for they expected something more from the dehcacy
of a person who, tiU this time, had behaved with so much pro
priety in aU her actions.
Jermyn was not in the least surprised at this conquest,
though not a little proud of it ; for his heart had very soon as
great a share in it as his vanity. Talbot, who saw with amaze
ment the rapidity of this triumph, and the disgrace of his own
defeat, was ready to die with jealousy and spite ; yet he thought
it would be more to his credit to die than to vent those passions
unprofitably ; and shielding himseh under a feigned indiffer
ence, he kept at a distance to view how far such an extrava
gant prepossession would proceed.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 303
In the mean time Jermyn quietly enjoyed the happiness of
seeing the inclinations of the prettiest and most extraordinary
creature in England declared in his favour. The duchess,
who had taken her under her protection ever since she had
declined placing herseh under that of the duke, sounded Jer-
myn's intentions towards her, and was satisfied with the
assurances she received from a man, whose probity infinitely
exceeded his merit in love : he therefore let all the court see
that he was willing to marry her, though, at the same time,
he did not appear particularly desirous of hastening the con
summation. Every person now complimented Miss Jennings
upon having reduced to this situation the terror of husbands,
and the plague of lovers : the court was in full expectation of
this mhacle, and Miss Jennings of a near approaching happy
settlement : but in this world one must have fortune in one's
favour, before one can calculate with certainty upon happiness.
The king did not use to let Lord Rochester remain so long
in exUe : he grew weary of it, and being displeased that he
was forgotten, he posted up to London to wait tUl it might be
bis majesty's pleasure to recaU him.
He first took up his habitation in the city, among the
capital tradesmen and rich merchants, where pohteness indeed
is not so much cultivated as at court ; but where pleasure,
luxury, and abundance reign with less confusion, and more
sincerity. His first design was only to be initiated into the
mysteries of those fortunate and happy inhabitants : that is to
say, by changing his name and dress, to gain admittance to
theh feasts and entertainments ; and, as occasion offered, to
those of theh loving spouses ; as he was able to adapt himseh
to aU capacities and humours, he soon e-eeply insinuated him
self into the esteem of the substantial wealthy aldermen, and
into he affections of theh more dehcate. magnificent, and

3o4 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
tender ladies : he made one in aU theh feasts, and at aU their
assemblies ; and, whUst in the company of the husbands, he
declaimed against the faults and mistakes of government, he
joined their wives in railing against the profligacy of the court
ladies, and in inveighing against the king's mistresses: ho
agreed with them, that the industrious poor were to pay for
these cursed extravagances ; that the city beauties were not
inferior to those of the other end of the town, and yet a sober
husband in this quarter of the town was satisfied with one
whe ; after which, to out-do their murmurings, he said, that
he wondered WhitehaU was not yet consumed by fire from
heaven, since such rakes as Rochester, KUlegrew, and Sidney
were suffered there, who had the impudence to assert that all
married men in the city were cuckolds, and aU theh wives
painted. This conduct endeared him so much to the cits,
and made him so welcome at theh clubs, that at last he grew
sick of theh cramming and endless invitations.
But, instead of approaching nearer the court, he retreated
into one of the most obscure corners of the city : where, again
changing both his name and his dress, in order to act a new
part, he caused biUs to be dispersed, giving notice of " The
recent arrival of a famous German doctor,* who, by long ap-
* Bishop Burnet confirms this account. — " Being under an umucky
accident, which obliged him to keep out of the way, he disguised him
seh? 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
roi 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 per
ceive nothing by which he might he discovered." — Burnet's Life of
Rochester, ed. 1774, p. 14.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 305
plication 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 astrology : and the virtue of his remedies principaUy con
sisted in giving present rehef to unfortunate young women in
aU manner of diseases, and aU kinds of accidents incident to
the fah sex, either from too unbounded charity to theh neigh
bours, or too great indulgence to themselves.
His first practice being confined to his neighbourhood, was
not very considerable ; but his reputation soon extending to
the other end of the town, there presently flocked to him the
women attending on the court, next, the chamber-maids of
ladies of quahty, who, upon the wonders they related concern
ing the German doctor, were soon foUowed by some of their
mistresses. Among aU the compositions of a ludicrous and satirical
kind, there never existed any that could be compared to those
of Lord Rochester, either for humour, fire, or wit ; but, of all
his works, the most ingenious and entertaining is that which
contains a detail of the intrigues and adventures in which he
was engaged while he professed medicine and astrology in the
suburbs of London.
The fair Jennings was very near getting a place in this
coUection ; but the adventure that prevented her from it, did
not, howevever, conceal from the pubhc her intention of pay
ing a visit to the German doctor.
The first chamber-maids that consulted him were only those
of the maids of honour ; who had numberless questions to ask,
and not a few doubts to be resolved, both upon theh own and
theh mistresses' accounts. Notwithstanding their disguise, he
recognised some of them, particularly Miss Temple's and Miss
Price's maids, and her whom Miss Hobart had lately discarded:

306 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
these creatures aU returned either fiUed with wonder and
amazement, or petrified with terror and fear. Miss Temple's
chamber-maid deposed that he assured her she would have the
smaU-pox, and her mistress the great, within two months at
farthest, if her aforesaid mistress did not guard against a man
in woman's clothes. Miss Price's woman affirmed that, with
out knowing her, and only looking in her hand, he told her at
first sight that, according to the course of the stars, he per
ceived that she was in the service of some good-natured lady,
who had no other fault than loving wine and men. In short,
every one of them, struck with some particular chcumstance
relating to theh own private affairs, had either alarmed or di
verted theh 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 devU immediately tempted her to go in person, and
see what sort of a creature this new magician was. This en
terprise was certainly very rash ; but nothing was too rash for
Miss Jennings, who was of opinion that a woman might des
pise appearances, provided she was in reahty virtuous. Miss
Price was aU comphance, and thus having fixed upon this
glorious resolution, they only thought of the proper means
of putting it into execution.
It was very difficult for Miss Jennings to disguise herself,
on account of her excessive fah and bright complexion, and
of something particular in her air and manner : however, after
having weU considered the matter, the best disguise they
could think of was to dress themselves like orange girls.* This
• These frolics appear to have been not unfrequent with persons of
high rank at this period. In a. letter from Mi-. Henshaw to Sir
Robert Paston, afterwards Earl of Yarmouth, dated October 13, 1670,

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 307
was no sooner resolved upon, but it was put in execution :
they attired themselves alike, and, taking each a basket of
oranges under theh arms, they embarked in a hackney coach,
and committed themselves to fortune, without any other es
cort than theh own caprice and indiscretion.
The duchess was gone to the play with her sister : Miss
Jennings had excused herself under pretence of indisposition :
she was over-joyed at the happy commencement of theh ad-

we have the following account : " Last week, there being a faire neare
Audley-end, the queen, the Dutchess of Richmond, and the Dutchess of
Buckingham, had a frohck to disguise themselves like country lasses,
in red petticoats, wastcofes, &c, and so goe see the faire. Sir Barnard
Gascoign, on a cart jade, rode before the queen; another stranger before
the Dutchess of Buckingham; and Mr. Roper before Richmond. They
had all so overdone it in their disguise, and looked so much more like
antiques than country volk, that, as soon as they came to the faire, the
people began to goe after them; but the queen going to a booth, to buy
a pair of yellow stockings for her sweet hart, and Sir Bernard asking
for a pair of gloves sticht with blew, for his sweet hart, they were soon,
by their gebrish, found to be strangers, which drew a bigger flock about
them. One amongst them had seen the queen at dinner, knew her, and
was proud of ber knowledge. Thi3 soon brought all the faire into a
crowd to stare at the queen. Being thus discovered, they, as soon as
they could, got to their horses ; but as many of the faire as had horses
got up, with their wives, children, sweet harts, or neighbours, behind
them, to get as much gape as they could, till they brought them to the
court gate. Thus, by ill conduct, was a merry frohck turned into a
penance." — Ive's Select Papers, p. 39.
Bishop Burnet says, "at this time, (1668,) the court fell into mUXU
extravagance in masquerading : both the king and queen, all the court,
went about masked, and came into houses unknown, and danced there,
with a great deal of wild frolic. In all this people were so disguised,
that, without being in the secret, none could distinguish them. They
were carried about in hackney chairs. Once the queen's chairmen, not
knowing who she was, went from her. So she was alone, and was much
disturbed, and came to Whitehall in a hackney coach ; some say in a
cart."— Burnet's History, voL i, p. 368.

308 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
venture ; for they had disguised themselves, had crossed the
Park, and taken theh hackney coach at WhitehaU gate, with
out the least accident. They mutuaUy congratulated eaco
other upon it, and Miss Price, taking a beginning so prospe
rous as a good omen of theh success, asked her companion wha<
they were to do at the fortune-teUer's, and what they should
propose to him.
Miss Jennings told her that, for her part, curiosity was hei
principal inducement for going thither ; that, however, she
was resolved to ask him, without naming any person, why a
man, who was in love with a handsome young lady, was not
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 astro
loger, nothing was more easy than to explain the enigma, as
she herseh had almost given her a solution of it in the narra
tive of the Duchess of Cleveland's adventures.
Having by this time nearly arrived at the playhouse, Miss
Price, after a moment's reflection, said, that since fortune fa
voured them, a fah opportunity was now offered to signalize
their courage, which was to go and seU 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 ahghted, paid
off theh hack, and, running through the midst of an immense
number of coaches, with great difficulty they reached the play
house door. Sidney, more handsome than the beauthul 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. KUlegrew came next, and the

MISS PRICE AND MISS JENNINGS, DISGUISED AS ORANGE GIRLS, OFFER
ORANGES TO LORD KILLEGREW. Page jog.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 309
fah Jennings, partly encouraged by the other's pertness, ad
vanced towards him, and offered him her basket, whilst Price,
more used to the language, desired him to buy her fine oranges.
" Not now," said he, looking at them with attention ; " but if
thou wUt to-morrow morning bring this young ghl to my lod
gings, I wUl make it worth aU the oranges in London to thee :"
and whUe he thus spoke to the one he chucked the other under
the chin, examining her bosom. These familiarities making
httle Jennings forget the part she was acting, after having
pushed him away with aU the violence she was able, she told
him with indignation that it was very insolent to dare — "Hal
ha !" said he, " here's a rarity indeed ! a young w — , who, the
better to seU her goods, sets up for virtue, and pretends inno
cence !"
Price immediately perceived that nothing could be gained
by continuing any longer in so dangerous a place ; and, taking
her companion under the arm, she dragged her away, whUe she
was stiU in emotion at the insult that had been offered to
her. Miss Jennings, resolving to seU no more oranges on these
terms, was tempted to return, without accomplishing the other
adventure ; but Price having represented to her the disgrace
of such cowardly behaviour, more particularly after having
before manifested so much resolution, she consented to go and
pay the astrologer a short visit, so as they might be enabled to
regain the palace before the play was ended.
They had one of the doctor's bills for a direction, but there
was no occasion for it ; for the driver of the coach they had
taken told them he knew very well the place they wanted, for
he had aheady carried above an hundred persons to the Ger
man doctor's : they were. within hah a street of his house, when
fortune thought proper to play them a trick.

3io MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Brounker* had dined by chance with a merchant in that
part of the city, and just as he was going away they ordered
theh coach to stop, as ill-luck would have it, just opposite to
him. Two orange girls in a hackney coach, one of whom ap
peared to have a very pretty face, immediately drew his atten
tion ; besides, he had a natural curiosity for such objects.
Of aU the men at court, he had the least regard for the fair
sex, and the least attention to theh reputation : he was not
young, nor was his person agreeable ; however, with a great
deal of wit, he had a violent passion for women. He did him
seh justice respecting his own merit ; and, being persuaded
that he could only succeed with those who were deshous of
having his money, he was at open war with aU the rest. He
had a httle country-house four or five mUes from London
always weU stocked with girls :f in other respects he was a
very honest man, and the best chess-player in England.
* Gentleman of the chamber to the Duke of York, and brother to
Lord Viscount Brounker, president of the royal society. Lord Claren
don imputes to him the cause of the great sea-fight, in 1665, not being
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
wa3 taken notice of in parliament, and, upon examination, found to be
true, as is here related; upon which he was expelled the house of com
mons, whereof he was a member, as an infamous person, though his
friend Coventry adhered to him, and used many indirect acts to have
protected him, and afterwards procured him to have more countenance
from the king than most men thought he deserved; being a person,
throughout his whole life, never notorious for anything but the highest
degree of impudence, and stooping to the most infamous offices, and
playing very well at chess, which preferred him more than the most
virtuous quahties could have done." — Continuation of Clarendon's
Life, p. 270.
t Brounker, Love's squire, through all the field array 'd,
No troop was better clad, nor so well paid.
Andrew Marvell's Poems, vol. ii„ p. 94.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.

3'i

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 tha same, and told the coach
man to drive on Brounker foUowed them unperceived on
foot; and the coach having stopped twenty or thirty yards
farther up the street, they ahghted. He was just behind them,
and formed the same judgment of them which a man much
more charitable to the sex must unavoidably have done, con
cluding that Miss Jennings was a young courtesan upon the
look-out, and that Miss Price was the mother-abbess. He was,
however, surprised to see them have much better shoes and
stockings than women of that rank generaUy wear, and that
the httle orange ghl, in getting out of a very high coach,
showed one of the handsomest legs he had ever seen : but as
aU this was no obstruction to his designs, he resolved to pur
chase her at any rate, in order to place her in his seraglio.
He came up to them, as they were giving theh baskets in
guard to the coachman, with orders to wait for them exactly
in that place. Brounker immediately pushed in between
them : as soon as they saw him, they gave themselves up for
lost ; but he, without taking the least notice of theh surprise,
took Price aside with one hand, and his purse with the other,
and began immediately to enter upon business, but was
astonished to perceive that she turned away her face, with
out either answering or looking at him: As this conduct
appeared to him unnatural, he stared her full in the face, not
withstanding aU her endeavours to prevent him : he did the
same to the other : and immediately recognised them, but
determined to conceal his discovery.
The old fox possessed a wonderful command of temper on
such occasions, and having teazed them a httle longer to re
move aU suspicions he quitted them, telling Price; "That

312 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
she was a great fool to refuse his offers, and that her girl
would not, perhaps, get so much in a year, as she might with
him in one day ; that the times were greatly changed, since
the queen's and the duchess's maids of honour forestaUed
the market, and were to be had cheaper than the town ladies."
Upon this he went back to his coach, whUst they blessed
hemselves, returning heaven theh most hearty thanks for
having escaped this danger without being discovered.
Brounker, on the other hand, would not have taken a thou
sand guineas for this rencounter : he blessed the Lord that he
had not alarmed them to such a degree as to frustrate their
intention ; for he made no doubt but Miss Price had managed
some intrigue for Miss Jennings : he therefore immediately
concluded, that at present it would be improper to make
known his discovery, which would have answered no other
end but to have overwhelmed them with confusion.
Upon this account, although Jermyn was one of his best
friends, he felt a secret joy in not having prevented his
being made a cuckold, before his marriage ; and the appre
hension he was in of preserving him from that accident, was
his sole reason for quitting them with the precautions afore
mentioned. Whilst they were under these alarms, theh coachman was
engaged in a squabble with some blackguard boys, who had
gathered round his coach in order to steal the oranges : from
words they came to blows : the two nymphs saw the com
mencement of the fray as they were returning to the coach,
after having abandoned the design of going to the fortune-
teUer's. Theh coachman being a man of spirit, it was with
great difficulty they could persuade him to leave theh oranges
to the mob, that they might get off without any further dis
turbance : having thus regained theh hack, after a thousand

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 3i3
frights, and after having received an abundant snare of the
most low and infamous abuse apphed to them during the
fracas, they at length reached St. James's, vowing never more
to go after fortune-teUers, through so many dangers, terrors,
and alarms, as they had lately undergone.
Brounker, who, from the indifferent opinion he entertained
of the fah sex, would have staked his hfe that Miss Jennings
did not return from this expedition in the same condition she
went, kept his thoughts, however, a profound secret ; since it
would have afforded him the highest satisfaction to have, seen
the aU-fortunate Jermyn marry a httle street- walker, who
pretended to pass for a pattern of chastity, that he might, the
day after his marriage, .congratulate him upon his virtuous
spouse ; but heaven was not disposed to afford him that
satisfaction, as wiU appear in the sequel of these memoirs.
Miss HamUton was in the country, as we before mentioned,
at a relation's : the Chevaher de Grammont bore this short
absence of hers with great uneasiness, since she would not
aUow bim permission to visit her there, upon any pretence
whatever ; but play, which was favourable to him, was no
smaU rehef to his extreme impatience.
Miss HamUton, however, at last returned. Mrs. Weten-
haU * (for that was the name of her relation) would by aU
means wait upon her to London, in appearance out of polite-
* Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Henry Bedingfield, and wife of Thomas
Wetenhall, of Hextall Court, near East Peckham, in the county of Kent,
See Collins' s Baronetage, p. 216. The family of Whetenhall, or Whet-
nall, was possessed of the estate of Hextall Court from the time of
Henry VIII. until within a few years past, when one of them, Henry
Whetenhall, Esq., alienated it to John Fane, Earl of Westmoreland.
Of this family was Edward Whetenhall, a celebrated polemical writer,
who, in 1678, was consecrated bishop of Corke and Ross.— See Wood's
Alhence Oxoniensis, vol. ii., p. 851, 998.

3i4 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
nuss ; for ceremony, carried beyond aU bearing, 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 whe's journey to town. Perhaps he would have done
himself the honour of conducting Miss HamUton up to
London, had he not been employed in writing some re
marks upon the ecclesiastical history, a work in which he had
long been engaged : the ladies were more civU than to inter
rupt him in his undertaking, and besides, it would entirely
have disconcerted aU Mrs. WetenhaU's schemes.
This lady was what may be properly caUed a beauty, en
tirely English, made up of lilies and roses, of snow and milk,
as to colour ; and of wax, with respect to the arms, hands,
neck, and feet, but aU this without either animation or ah ;
her face was imcommonly 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 smaUest 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. WetenhaU. Her husband had been destined for
the church ; but his elder brother dying just at the time he
had gone through his studies of divinity, instead of taking
orders, he came to England, and took to wife Miss Beding-
field, the lady of whom we are now speaking.
His person was not disagreeable, but he had a serious con
templative ah, very apt to occasion disgust : as for the rest,
she might boast of having one of the greatest theologists in
the kingdom for her husband : he was aU day poring over his
¦ books, and went to bed soon, in order to rise* early ; so that
his whe found him snoring when she came to bed, and when
he arose he left her there sound asleep : his conversation at

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 315
table would have been very brisk, if Mrs. WetenhaU had
been as great a proficient in divinity, or as great a lover of
controversy, as he was; but being neither learned in the
former, nor desirous of the latter, sUence reigned at theh
table, as absolutely as at a refectory.
She had often expressed a great deshe 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 hfe
she was forced to lead at Peckham* The melancholy retired
situation of the place was to her insupportable ; and as she
had the foUy, incident to many other women, of believing
sterility to be a kind of reproach, .she was very much hurt to
see that she might faU under that suspicion ; for she was per
suaded, that although heaven had denied her children, she
nevertheless had aU the necessary requisites on her part, if it
had been the wUl of the Lord. This had occasioned her to
make some reflections, and then to reason upon those reflec
tions ; as for instance, that since her- husband chose rather to
devote himseh to his studies, than to the duties of matri
mony, to turn over musty old books, rather than attend to
the attractions of beauty, and to gratify his own pleasures,
rather than those of his whe, it might be permitted her to
reheve some necessitous lover, in neighbourly charity, pro
vided she could do it conscientiously, and to direct her in
clinations in so just a manner, that the evU spirit should
have no concern in it. Mr. WetenhaU, a zealous partisan
* "Peckham* is about ten miles off Tunbridge Wells. Sir William
Twisden has an ancient mansion here, which has been loug in that
family.*— Bun's History of Tunbridge Wells, 8vo, 1766, p. 237. Mr.
Hasted says, the estate was purchased by Sir William Twisden of
Henry Whetenhall, Esq. — Hasted't Kent, voL ii. p. 274.

3i6 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
for the doctrine of the casuists, would not perhaps have ap
proved of these decisions ; but he was not consulted.
The greatest misfortune was, that neither sohtary Peckham
nor its sterile neighbourhood, presented any expedients, either
for the execution of the afore-mentioned design, or for the
rehef of poor Mrs. WetenhaU : she was visibly pining away,
when, through fear of dying either with sohtude or of want,
she had recourse to Miss HamUton's commiseration.
Theh first acquaintance was formed at Paris, whither Mr.
WetenhaU had taken his whe hah a year after they were
married, on a journey thither to buy books : Miss HamUton,
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 Chevaher de Grammont, being informed of the day on
which they were to arrive, borne on the wings of love and
impatience, had engaged George HamUton to go with him,
and meet them some mUes out of London. The equipage he
had prepared for the purpose, corresponded with his usual
magnificence ; and on such an occasion, we may reasonably
suppose he had not neglected his person : however, with all
his impatience, he checked the ardour of the coachman, through
fear of accidents, rightly judging that upon a road prudence
is preferable to eagerness. The ladies at length appeared, and
Miss HamUton, being in his eyes, ten or twelve times more
handsome than before her departure from London, he would
have purchased with his hfe so kind a reception as she gave
her brother.
Mrs. WetenhaU had her share of the praises, which at this
interview were hberaUy bestowed upon her beauty, for which
her beauty was very thankful to those who did it so much

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 317
honour ; and as HamUton regarded her with a tender attention,
she regarded HamUton as a man very weU qualified for put
ting in execution the httle 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 fehcity : everything
appeared hke enchantment to her in this superb city ; more
particularly, as in Paris she had never seen anything farther
than the Rue Saint Jacques, and a few bookseUers' shops. Miss
HamUton entertained her at her own house, and she was pre
sented, admired, and weU received at both courts.
The Chevaher de Grammont, whose gaUantry and magni
ficence were inexhaustible, taking occasion, from this fair
stranger's arrival, to exhibit his grandeur, nothing was to be
seen but balls, concerts, plays, excursions by land and by
water, splendid coUations and sumptuous entertainments :
Mrs. WetenhaU was transported with pleasures, of which the
greatest part were enthely new to her ; she was greatly de
lighted with ah, 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, -?hen
there were many people killed upon the stage, but thought the
players were very fine handsome feUows, who were much
better alive than dead.
HamUton, upon the whole, was pretty weU treated by her,
if a man in love, who is never satisfied untU the completion
of his wishes, could confine himseh within the bounds of
moderation and reason : he used aU his endeavours to deter
mine her to put in execution the projects she had formed at
Peckham: Mrs. WetenhaU, on the other hand, was much
pleased with him. This is the HamUton who served in the

3(8 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
French army with distinction ;* he was both agreeable and
handsome. AU imaginable opportunities conspired to favour
the establishment of an intimacy, whose commencement had
been so brisk, that in aU probability it would not languish for
a conclusion ; but the more he pressed her to it, the more her
resolution began to faU, and regard for some scruples, which
she had not weU weighed, kept her in suspense : there was
reason to beheve that a httle perseverance would have removed
these obstacles ; yet this at the present time was not attempted.
HamUton, not able to conceive what could prevent her from
* I apprehend hs is the same George Hamilton already described,
who married Miss Jennings, and not the author of this work, as Lord
Orford supposes. In a letter from Arlington to Sir William Godolphin,
dated September 7, 1671, it is said, " the Conde de Molina complains to
us ol certam levies Sir George Hamilton hath made in Ireland. The
king hath always told him he had no express license for it ; and I
have told the Cond6 he must not find it strange that a gentleman who
had been bred the king's page abroad, and losing his employment at
home, for being a Roman Catholic, should have some more than ordi
nary connivance towards the making his fortune abroad by the coun
tenance of his friends and relations in Ireland : and yet take the
matter in the worst sense he could give, it would not amount to the
breach of any article betwixt the king my master and the court of
Spain." — Arlington's Letters, vol. ii., p. 332. In a letter from the same
nobleman to Lord Sandwich, written about October, 1667, we find the
cause of Sir George Hamilton's entering into the French service :
"Concerning the rsformadoes of the guards of horse, his majesty
thought fit, the other day, to have them dismissed, according to his pro
mise, made to the parliament at the last session. Mr. Hamilton had a
secret overture made him, that he, with those men, should be welcome
iuto the French service ; his majesty, at their dismissal, having de
clared they should have leave to go abroad whither they pleased.
They accepted of Mr. Hamilton's offer to carry them into France." —
Arlington's Letters, vol. i., p. 185. Lodge, in his Peerage of Ireland,
says, Sir George Hamilton died ia 1667, which, from the first extract
above, appears to be erroneous. He has evidently confounded the
father and son ; the former of whom was the person who died in 1CC7.

MEMOIRS OF. COUNT GRAMMONT. 319
completing his happiness, since in his opinion the first and
greatest difficulties of an amour were aheady overcome, with
respect to the pubhc, resolved to abandon her to her irresolu
tions, instead of endeavouring to conquer them by a more
vigorous attack. It was not consistent with reason, to desist
from an enterprise, where so many prospects of success pre
sented themselves, for such inconsiderable obstacles ; but he
suffered himseh to be intoxicated with chimeras and visions,
which unseasonably cooled the vigour of his pursuit, and led
him astray in another unprofitable undertaking.
I know not whether poor WetenhaU took the blame upon
herseh ; but it is certain, she was extremely mortified upon it.
Soon after being obhged 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; but as the
queen was to set out within a month for Tunbridge Wells, she
was obliged to yield to necessity, and return to the philo
sopher, WetenhaU, with the consolation of having engaged
Miss HamUton to come and hve at her house, which was
within ten or twelve mUes of Tunbridge, as long as the court
remained there.
Miss Hamilton promised not to abandon her in her retire
ment, and further engaged to bring the Chevalier de Grammont
along with her, whose humour and conversation extremely
delighted her. The Chevaher de Grammont, who on aU occa
sions started agreeable raillery, engaged on his part to bring
Ceorge Hamilton, which words overwhelmed her with blushes.
The court set out soon after* to pass about two months in
• Thi3 was in 1664, probably as soon as the queen was sufficiently
recovered from the illness mentioned in note on p. 153. See Burr' 4
History of Tunbridge Wells, p. 43.

320 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
the place of all Europe the most rural and simple, and yet, at
the same time, the most ontertaining and agreeable.
Tunbridge is the same distance from London, that Fon-
tainebleau is from Paris, and is, at the season, the general
rendezvous of aU the gay and handsome of both sexes. The
company, though always numerous, is always select: since
those who repair thither for diversion, ever exceed the number
of those who go thither for health. Everything there breathes
mirth and pleasure : constraint is banished, familiarity is estab
lished upon the first acquaintance, and joy and pleasure are
the sole sovereigns of the place.
The company are accommodated with lodgings in httle,
clean, and convenient habitations, that lie straggling and sepa
rated from each other, a mile and a hah aU round the Wells,
where the company meet in the morning: this place consists
of a long walk, shaded by spreading trees, under which they
walk while they are chinking the waters : on one side of this
walk is a long row of shops, plenthuUy stocked with aU
manner of toys, lace, gloves, stockings, and where there is
raffling, as at Paris, in the Foire de Saint Germain: on the
other side of the walk is the market; and, as it is the custom
here for every person to buy theh own provisions, care is taken
that nothing offensive appears on the stalls. Here young, fair,
fresh-coloured country girls, with clean linen, smaU straw hats,
and neat shoes and stockings, seU game, vegetables, flowers and
fruit: here one may live as one pleases: here is, hkewise, deep
play, and no want of amorous intrigues. As soon as the even
ing comes, every one quits his little palace to assemble at the
bowhhg-green, where, in the open air, those who choose, dance
upon a turf more soft and smooth than the .finest carpet in
the world.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 3„
Lord Muskerry* had, within two or three short miles of
Tunbridge, a very handsome seat caUed Summer-hUl : Miss
Hamilton, after having spent eight or ten days at Peck
ham, could not excuse herself from passing the remainder of
the season at his house ; aud, having obtained leave of Mr.
WetenhaU, that his lady should accompany her, they left the
melancholy residence of Peckham, and its tiresome master,
and fixed their httle court at Summer-hUl.-f-
* Eldest son to the Earl of Clancarty ; " a young man," says Lord
Clarendon, " of extraordinary courage and expectation, who had been
colonel of a regiment of foot in Flanders, under the duke, and had the
general estimation of an excellent officer. He was of the duke's bed
chamber ; and the earl (i.e. of Falmouth) and he were, at that time, so
near the duke, that his highness was all covered with their blood.
There fell, likewise, in the same ship, and at the same instant, Mr.
Richard Boyle, a younger son of the Earl of Burlington, a youth of
great hope." — Continuation of Clarendon's Life, p. 266.
t Lord Orford supposes this place came to Lord Muskerry through
the means of his elder brother : but in this he is mistaken, as it be
longed to him in right of his wife, the only daughter of Lord Clan
rickard. This seat is about five miles from the Wells, and was once
the residence and property of Sir Francis Walsingham, from whom it
descended to his daughter Frances, who married first Sir Philip Sydney ;
secondly, the unfortunate Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex : and lastly,
Richard de Burgh, Marquis of Clanrickard. In Walker's History of
Independence, we are told, that ' Somer-hill, a pleasant seat, worth
one thousand pounds a-year, belonging to the Earl of St. Albans, (who
was also Marquis of Clanrickard,) is given by the junta to the blood
hound Bradshaw : So he hath warned the Countesse of Leicester, who
formerly had it in possession, to raise a debt of three thousand pounds,
pretended due to her from the said earle, (which she had already
raised fourfold,) to quiet the possession against our lord's day next."
At the restoration it seems to have returned to its original owner. It
is now the residence of William Woodgate, Esq. A writer, supposed to
be the Reverend Richard Oneley, thus describes it in 1771 ; "The
house being too large for the family of the present possessor, some of
the state rooms are not made use of, or furnished ; but in them are
still remaining superb chimney-pieces, fine carved wainscot, and other

322 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
They went every day to court, or the court came to them.
The queen even surpassed her usual attentions in inventing
and supporting entertainments : she endeavoured to increase
the natural ease and freedon of Tunbridge, by dispensing with,
rather than requiring, those ceremonies that were due to her
presence ; and, confining in the bottom of her heart that grief
and uneasiness she could not overcome, she saw Miss Stewart
triumphantly possess the affections of the king without mani
festing the least uneasiness.
Never did love see his empire in a more flourishing condi
tion than on this spot : those who were smitten before they

monuments of their former grandeur and magnificence. In the
dining-room, above stairs, are figures, flowers, and other ornaments in
Btucco ; particularly, a representation in relievo, over the chimney-
piece, of the angelic host (as it is thought) rejoicing in the creation of
the world ; a design seemingly taken from Job, chap, xxxvii., v. 7.
The house is inclosed with four courts, E. W. N. S. The front court,
through which is the grand approach to the house, looks towards the
west ; from whence you have a fine prospect to the Surrey hills before
you, and Seven-oak hills on the right. The prospect is limited by
Baron Smythe's park on the left. The town and castle of Tunbridge,
the navigable river Med way, and the rich meadows through which it
runs, finely diversified with coin-fields, pasturage, hop-gardens, and
orchards, are here in full view, and form a most beautiful scene. From
the opposite court, on the west side of the house, are seen the Canter
bury hills, near Dover, at the distance of about fifty miles ; but this view,
and the several objects it comprises, is best enjoyed from a rising hill;
on which grow two large oaks, at a little distance southward from the
house. From this stand, a stranger may behold at leisure a valley
equal to Tempe, Andalusia, or Tinian." — General Account' of Tun
bridge Wells and its Environs ; printed for G. Pearch, 8vo, p. 37.
Mr. Hasted says, " that Lady Muskerry having, by her expensive way
of life, wasted her estate, she, by piece-meals, sold off a great part of
the demesne lands, lying mostly on the southern side of South-frith, to
different persons ; and dying in great distress, was buried accordingly,
about the year IMS,."— History of Kent, voL ii., p. 341.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 323
came to it, felt a mighty augmentation of theh flame ; and
those who seemed the least susceptible of love, laid aside
theh natural ferocity, to act in a new character. For the truth
of the latter, we shaU only relate the change which soon ap
peared in the conduct of Prince Rupert.*
He was brave and courageous, even to rashness ; but cross-
grained and incorrigibly obstinate : his genius was fertUe in
mathematical experiments, and he possessed some knowledge
of chemistry : he was pohte even to excess, unseasonably ; but
* Lord Oxford's contrast to this character of Prince Rupert is too just
to be here omitted. " Born with the taste of an uncle whom his sword
was not fortunate in defending, Prince Rupert was fond of those
sciences which soften and adorn a hero's private hours, and knew how
to mix them with his minutes of amusement, without dedicating
his life to their pursuit, like us, who, wanting capacity for momentous
views, make serious study of what is only the transitory occupation of
a genius. Had the court of the first Charles been peaceful, how agree
ably had the prince's congenial propensity Battered and confirmed the
inclination of his uncle ! How the muse of arts would have repaid the
patronage of the monarch, when, for his first artist, she would have pre
sented him with his nephew ! How different a figure did the same
prince make in a reign of dissimilar complexion ! The philosophic
warrior, who could relax himself into the ornament of a refined court,
was thought a savage mechanic, when courtiers were only voluptuous
wits. Let me transcribe a picture of Prince Rupert, drawn by a man
who was far from having the least portion of wit in that age, who was
superior to its indelicacy, and who yet was so overborne by its preju-
judices, that he had the complaisance to ridicule virtue, merit, talents.
— But Prince Rupert, alas ! was an awkward lover 1" Lord Orford
here inserts the character in the text, and then adds, " What pity that
we, who wish to transmit this prince's resemblance to posterity on a
fairer canvas, have none of these inimitable colours to efface the harsher
likeness ! We can but oppose facts to wit, truth to satire. — How unequal
the pencils! yet what these lines cannot do they may suggest: they
may induce the reader to reflect, that if the prince was defective in the
transient varnish of a court, he at least was adorned by the arts with
that polish which alone can make a court attract the attention of sub
sequent ages." — Catalogue of Engravers, p 135, 8vo ed.

324 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
haughty, and even brutal, when he ought to have been gentle
and courteous : he was taU, and his manners were ungracious:
he had a dry hard-favoured visage, and a stern look, even when
he wished to please ; but, when he was out of humour, he was
the true picture of reproof.
The queen had sent for the players, either that there might
be no intermission in the diversions of the place, or, perhaps,
to retort upon Miss Stewart, by the presence of NeU Gwyn,
part of the uneasiness she felt from hers. Prince Rupert found
charms in the person of another player called Hughes,* who
brought down and greatly subdued his natural fierceness.
From this time, adieu alembics, crucibles, furnaces, and all the
black furniture 'of the forges: a complete fareweU to aU ma
thematical instruments and chemical speculations: sweet
powder and essences were now the only ingredients that occu
pied any share of his attention The impertinent gipsy chose
to be attacked in form ; and proudly refusing money, that, in
the end she might seU her favours at a dearer rate, she caused
the poor prince to act a part so unnatural, that he no longer
appeared like the same person. The king was greatly pleased
with this event, for which great rejoicings were made at Tun
bridge ; but nobody was bold enough to make it the subject of
* Mrs. Hughes was one of the actresses belonging to the king's
company, and one of the earliest female performers. According to
Downs, she commenced her theatrical career after the opening of Drury-
lane theatre, in 1663. She appears to have been the first female re
presentative of Desdemona. By Prince Rupert she had a daughter,
named Ruperta, married to Lieutenant-general Howe, who survived
her husband juany years, dying at Somerset house, about the year 1740,
For Mrs. Hughes Prince Rupert bought the magnificent seat of Sir
Nicholas Crispe, near Hammersmith, now the residence of the Mar
grave of Brandenburgh, which cost £25,000 the building. From the
dramatis personse to Tom Essence, licensed 1676, we find Mrs. Hughes
was then on the stage, and in the duke's company.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 325
satire, though the same constraint was not observed with other
ridiculous personages.
There was dancing every day at the queen's apartments,
because the physicians recommended it, and no person thought
it amiss : for even those who cared least for it, chose that
exercise to digest the waters rather than walking. Lord Mus
kerry thought himseh secure against his lady's rage for danc
ing ; for, although he was ashamed of it, the princess of Babylon
was, by the grace of God, six or seven months advanced in
pregnancy; and, to complete her misfortune, the chUd had
faUen aU on one side, so that even Euchd would have been
puzzled to say what her figure was. The disconsolate lady,
seeing Miss HamUton and Mrs. WetenhaU set out every
morning, sometimes on horseback and sometimes in a coach,
but ever attended by a gaUant troop to conduct them to court,
and to convey them back, she fancied a thousand times more
delights at Tunbridge than in reality there were, and she did
not cease in her imagination, to dance over at Summer-hiU aU
the country dances which she thought had been danced at
Tunbridge. She could no longer support the racking torments
which disturbed her mind, when relenting heaven, out of pity
to her pains and sufferings, caused Lord Muskerry to repair
to London, and kept him there two whole days : as soon
as ever he had turned his back, the Babylonian princess de
clared her resolution to make a trip to court.
She had a domestic chaplain who did not want sense, and
Lord Muskerry, for fear of accidents, had recommended her to
the wholesome counsels and good prayers of this prudent divine;
but in vain were aU his preachings and exhortations to stay at
home ; in vain did he set before her eyes her husband's com
mands, and the dangers to which she would expose herseh in
her present condition ; he hkewise added that her pregnancy,

326 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
being a particular blessing from heaven, she ought therefore
to be so much the more careful for its preservation, since it
cost her husband, perhaps, more trouble than she was aware
of, to obtain it. These remonstrances were altogether ineffec
tual : Miss Hamilton and her cousin WetenhaU, having the
complaisance to confirm her in her resolution, they assisted in
dressing her the next morning, and set out along with her :
aU their skiU and dexterity were requisite to reduce her shape
into some kind of symmetry ; but, having at last pinned a
smaU cushion under her petticoat on the right side, to coun
teract the untoward appearance the httle infant occasioned by
throwing itself on the left, they almost spht theh sides with
laughter, assuring her at the same time that she looked per
fectly charming.
As soon as she appeared, it was generally beheved that she had
dressed herseh in a farthingale, in order to make her court to
the queen ; but every person was pleased at her arrival: those
who were unacquainted with the circumstances assured her in
earnest that she was pregnant with twins ; and the queen, who
envied her condition, notwithstanding the ridiculous appear
ance she then made, being made acquainted with the motive
of her journey, was determined to gratify her inclinations.
As soon as the hour for country dances arrived, her cousin
HamUton was appointed her partner : she made some faint excuses
at first on account of the inconvenient situation she was then in:
but soon suffered them to be overcome, in order, as she said, to
show her duty to the queen ; and never did a woman in this
world enjoy such complete satisfaction.
We have already observed, that the greatest prosperity is
hable to the greatest change : Lady Muskerry, trussed up as
she was, seemed to feel no manner of uneasiness from the
motion in dancing ; on the contrary, being only apprehensive

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 327
of the presence of her husband, which would have destroyed
aU her happiness, she danced with uncommon briskness, lest
her Ul stars should bring him back before she had fuUy satis
fied herseh with it. In the midst, therefore, of her capering
in this indiscreet manner, her cushion came loose, without her
perceiving it, and feU to the ground in the very middle of the
first round. The Duke of Buckingham, who watched her, took
it up instantly, wrapped it up in his coat, and, mimicking the
cries of a new-born infant, he went about inquiring for a nurse
for the young Muskerry among the maids of honour.
This buffoonery, joined to the strange figure of the poor
lady, had almost thrown Miss Stewart into hysterics ; for the
princess of Babylon, after this accident, was quite flat on one
side, and immoderately protuberant on the other. AU those
who had before suppressed theh inclinations to laugh, now
gave themselves free scope, when they saw that Miss Stewart
was ready to spht her sides. The poor lady was greatly dis
concerted : every person was officious to console her ; but the
queen, who inwardly laughed more heartily than any, pre
tended to disapprove of theh taking such hberties.
Whilst Miss Hamilton and Mrs. WetenhaU endeavoured
to refit Lady Muskerry in another room, the Duke of Buck
ingham told the king that, if the physicians would permit a
httle exercise immediately after a delivery, the best way to re
cover Lady Muskerry was to renew the dance as soon as ever
her infant was replaced ; this advice was approved, and accord
ingly put in execution. The queen proposed, as soon as she
appeared, a second round of country-dances ; and Lady Mus
kerry accepting the offer, the remedy had its desired effect,
and entirely removed every remembrance of her late mishap.
WhUst these things were passing at the king's court, that
of the Duke of York took a journey on the other side of Lon-

328 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
don ;* the pretence of this journey was to visit the county
whose name he bore; but love was the real motive. The
duchess, since her elevation, had conducted herseh with such
prudence and chcumspection, as could not be sufficiently ad
mired : such were her manners, and such the general estima
tion in which she was held, that she appeared to have found
out the secret of pleasing every one ; a secret yet more rare
than the grandeur to which she had been raised : but, after
having gained universal esteem, she was deshous of being
more particularly beloved ; or, more properly speaking, ma
licious Cupid assaulted her heart, in spite of the discretion,
prudence, and reason, with which she had fortified it.
In vain had she said to herseh a hundred times, that if the
duke had been so kind as to do her justice by falling in love
with her, he had done her too much honour by making her his
wife ; that with respect to his inconstant disposition, which
estranged him from her, she ought to bear it with patience,
untU it pleased heaven to produce a change in his conduct ;
that the fraUties on his part, which might to her appear in
jurious, would never justify in her the least deviation from her
duty ; and, as resentment was stUl less aUowable, she ought
to endeavour to regain him by a conduct entirely opposite to
* In Sir John Reresby's Memoirs, 8vo. 1735, p. 11, sub anno 1665, it
is said, Aug. 5, " his Royal Highness the Duke and his Duchess came
down to York, where it was observed that Mr. Sidney, the hand
somest youth of his time, and of the duke's bedchamber, was greatly in
love with the duchess ; and indeed he might well be excused ; for the
duchess, daughter to Chancellor Hyde, was a very handsome personage,
and a woman of fine wit. The duchess, on her part, seemed kind to
him, but very innocently ; but he had the misfortune to be banished
the court afterwards, for another reason, as was reported." Burnet
mentions this transaction, and insinuates, that to this cause is to be
ascribed the duchess's conversion to popery.— See Burnefs History of
his Own Times, vol. i., p. 318.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 329
his own. In vain was it, as we have said before, that she had
long resisted Love and his emissaries by the help of these
maxims : how solid soever reason, and however obstinate wis
dom and virtue may be, there are yet certain attacks which
the by theh length, and, in the end, subdue both reason and
virtue itself.
The Duchess of York was one of the highest feeders in Eng
land : as this was an unforbidden pleasure she indulged herself
in it, as an indemnification for other self-denials. It was reaUy
an edifying sight to see her at table. The duke, on the con
trary, being incessantly in the hurry of new fancies, exhausted
himseh by bis inconstancy, and was graduaUy wasting away ;
whilst the poor princess, gratifying her good appetite, grew so
fat and plump that it was a blessing to see her. It is not easy
to determine how long things would have continued in this
situation, if Love, who was resolved to have satisfaction for her
late conduct, so opposite to the former, had not employed ar
tifice as weU as force, to disturb her repose.
He at first let loose upon her resentment and jealousy two
mortal enemies to aU tranquillity and happiness. A tall
creature, pale-faced, and nothing but skin and bone, named
Churchill* whom she had taken for a maid of honour, became
* Miaa Arabella Churchill, daughter of Sir Winston Churchill of
Wotton Basset, in the county of Wilts, and sister to the celebrated
John, Duke of Marlborough. She was born 1648. By the Duke of
York she was mother of, 1, James, Duke of Berwick ; 2, Henry Fitz-
James, commonly called the Grand Prior, bom 1673, who was, after
the revolution, created by his father Duke of Albemarle, and died 1702;
3, Henrietta, born 1670, married to Lord Waldegrave, and died 1730.
Miss Churchill afterwards became the wife of Charles Godfrey, Esq.,
clerk-comptroller of the green cloth, and master of the jewel office, by
whom she had two daughters; one, Charlotte, married to Lord Falcouth;
and the other, Elizabeth, to Edmund Dunch, Esq. Mrs. Godfrey died in
May, 1730, at the age of 82.

330 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
the object of her jealousy, because she was then the object of
the duke's affection. The court was not able to comprehend
how, after having been in love with Lady Chesterfield, Miss
HamUton, and Miss Jennings, he could have any inclination
for such a creature ; but they soon perceived that something
more than unaccountable variety had a great share in effecting
this conquest.
The duchess beheld with indignation a choice which seemed
to debase her own merit in a much greater degree than any of
the former ; at the very instant that indignation and jealousy
be^an to provoke her spleen, perfidious Cupid threw in the
way of her passions and resentments the amiable, handsome
Sidney ; and, whilst he kept her eyes fixed upon his personal
perfections, diverted her attention from perceiving the defi
ciency of his mental accomplishments : she was wounded be
fore she was aware of her danger ; but the good opinion Sidney
had of his own merit did not suffer him long to be ignorant of
such a glorious conquest ; and, in order more effectuaUy to
secure it, his eyes rashly answered everything which those of
her royal highness had the kindness to teU him, whilst his per
sonal accomplishments were carefuUy heightened by aU the
advantages of dress and show.
The ducliess, foreseeing the consequences of such an engage
ment, strongly combated the inclination that hurried her
away ; but Miss Hobart, siding with that inclination, argued
the matter with her scruples, and, in the end, reaUy vanquished
them. This ghl had insinuated herseh into her royal highness's
confidence by a fund of news with which she was provided the
whole year round : the court and the city supphed her ; nor
was it very material to her whether her stories were true or
false, her chief care being that they should prove agreeable to
her mistress : she knew, hkewise, how to gratify her palate, and

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 331
constantly provided a variety of those dishes and liquors which
she liked best. These qualifications had rendered her neces
sary ; but, deshous of being stiU more so, and having perceived
both the airs that Sidney gave himseh, and what was passing
in the heart of her mistress, the cunning Hobart took the hberty
of telling her royal highness that this unfortunate youth was
pining away solely on her account; that it was a thousand
pities a man of his figure should lose the respect for her which
was most certainly her due, merely because she had reduced
him to such a state that he could no longer preserve it ; that
he was graduaUy dying away on her account, in the sight of
the whole court ; that his situation would soon be generaUy re
marked, except she made use of the proper means to prevent
it; that, in her opinion, her royal highness ought to pity the
miserable situation into which her charms had reduced him,
and to endeavour to aUeviate his pain in some way or other.
The duchess asked her what she meant by " endeavouring to
aUeviate his pain in some way or other." " I mean, madam,"
answered Miss Hobart, " that, if either his person be disagree
able, or his passion troublesome, you wiU give him his dis
charge ; or, if you choose to retain him in your service, as aU
the princesses in the world would do in your place, you wUl
permit me to give him directions from you for his future con
duct, mixed with a few grains of hope, to prevent his enthely
losing his senses, until you find a proper occasion yourseh to
acquaint him with your wishes." "What!" said the duchess,
"would you advise me, Hobart — you, who really love me — to
engage in an affair of this nature, at the expense of my honour,
and the hazard of a thousand inconveniences ! H such fraUties
are sometimes excusable, they certainly are not so in the high
station in which I am placed; and it would be an Ul-requital on
my part for his goodness who raised me to the rank I now filL

332 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
to  " " AU this is very fine," interrupted Miss Hobart : " but
is it not very weU known that he only married you because he
was importuned so to do ? Since that I refer to yourseh whether
he has ever restrained his inclination a single moment, giving
you the most convincing proofs of the change that has taken
place in his heart, by a thousand provoking infidelities ? Is
it stiU your intention to persevere in a state of indolence and
humility, whUst the duke, after having received the favours,
or suffered the repvdses, of aU the coquettes in England, pays
his addresses to the maids of honour, one after the other, and
at present places his whole ambition and deshes in the con
quest of that ugly skeleton, ChurchiU? What! Madam,
must then your prime of hfe be spent in a sort of widowhood
in deploring your misfortunes, without ever being permitted
to make use of any remedy that may offer ? A woman must
be endowed with insuperable patience, or with an inexhaustible
degree of resignation, to bear this. Can a husband, who dis
regards you both night and day, reaUy suppose, because his
whe eats and drinks heartily, as, God be thanked, your royal
highness does, that she wants nothing else than to sleep weU
too ? Faith, such conduct is too bad : I therefore once more
repeat that there is not a princess in the universe who would
refuse the homage of a man hke Sidney, when a husband pays
his addresses elsewhere."
These reasons were certainly not moraUy good ; but had
they been still worse the duchess would have yielded to them,
so much did her heart act in concert with Miss Hobart, to
overthrow her discretion and prudence.
This intrigue began at the very time that Miss Hobart advised
Miss Temple not to give any encouragement to the addresses
of the handsome Sidney. As for him, no sooner was he in
formed by the confidant Hobart that the goddess accepted his

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 333
adoration than he immediately began to be particularly re
served and circumspect in his behaviour, in order to divert the
attention of the pubhc ; but the pubhc is not so eashy deceived
as some people imagine.
As there were too many spies, too many inquisitive people
and critics, in a numerous court, residing in the midst of a
populous city, the duchess to avoid exposing the inclinations
of her heart to the scrutiny of so many inquisitors, engaged the
Duke of York to undertake the journey before mentioned,
whilst the queen and her court were at Tunbridge.
This conduct was prudent; and, if agreeable to her, was far
from displeasing to any of her court, except Miss Jennings:
Jermyn was not of the party; and, in her opinion, every party
was insipid in which he was not one of the company. He had
engaged himself in an enterprise above his strength, in laying a
wager which the Chevaher de Grammont had laid before, and
lost. He betted five hundred guineas that he would ride twenty
mUes in one hour upon the same horse, in the high road. The
day he had fixed upon for this race was the very same in
¦which Miss Jennings went to the fortune-teller's.
Jermyn was more fortunate than her in this undertaking :
he came off victorious ; but as his courage had far exceeded
the strength of his constitution in this exertion to win the
wager, he got a violent fever into the bargain, which brought
him very low. Miss Jennings inquired after his health ; but
that was all she dared to do. In modern romances, a princess
need only pay a visit to some hero, abandoned by his physi
cians, a perfect cure would be wrought in three days ; but
since Miss Jennings had not been the cause of Jermyn's fever,
she was not certain of relieving him from it, although she had
been sure that a charitable visit would not have been censured
in a mahcious court. Without therefore paying any attention

334 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
to the uneasiness she might feel upon the occasion, the court
set out without him : she had, however, the gratification to
testify her Ul-humour throughout the whole journey, by
appearing displeased with everything which seemed to afford
satisfaction to aU the rest of the company.
Talbot made one of the company ; and flattering himself
that the absence of a dangerous rival might produce some
change in his favour, he was attentive to aU the actions, mo
tions, and even gestures, of his former mistress. There was
certainly enough fuUy to employ his attention : it was con
trary to her disposition to remain long in a serious humour.
Her natural vivacity hurried her away, from being seemingly
lost in thought, into saUies of wit, which afforded him hopes
that she would soon forget Jermyn, and remember that his
own passion was the first she had encouraged. However, he
kept his distance, notwithstanding his love and his hopes*
being of opinion that it Ul became an injured lover to betray
either the least weakness, or the smaUest return of affection,
for an ungrateful mistress, who had deserted him.
Miss Jennings was so far from thinking of his resentments,
that she did not even. recoUect he had ever paid his addresses
to her; and her thoughts being whoUy occupied upon the
poor sick man, she conducted herseh towards Talbot as if
they never had had anything to say to each other. It was to
him that she most usuaUy gave her hand, either in getting
into or out of the coach ; she conversed more readUy with
him than any other person, and, without intending it, did
everything to make the court beheve she was cured of her
passion for Jermyn in favour of her former lover.
Of this he seemed likewise convinced, as weU as the rest ;
and thinking it now proper to act another part, in order to let
her know that his sentiments with respect to her were still

MEMOIRS OF COUNT'GRAMMONT. 33S
the same, he had resolved to address her in the most tender
and affectionate manner upon this subject. Fortune seemed
to have favoured him, and to have smoothed the way for this
intended harangue : he was alone with her in her chamber ;
and, what was stiU better, she was rallying him concerning
Miss Boynton; saying, "that they were undoubtedly much
obhged to him for attending them on theh 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 sufferings and fidehty,
when Miss Temple, with a paper in her hand, entered the
room. This was a letter in verse, which Lord Rochester had
written some time before, upon the intrigues of the two courts;
wherein, upon the subject of Miss Jennings, he said : " that
Talbot had struck terror among the people of God, by bis
gigantic stature ; but that Jermyn, hke a httle David, had
vanquished the great Goliath.' Jennings, dehghted with this
aUusion, read it over two or three times, thought it more en
tertaining than Talbot's conversation, at first heartUy laughed
at it, but soon after, with a tender ah, " Poor httle 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 himseh so ridiculously deceived in his
hopes, he went abruptly out of the room, vowing never to
tbinlr any more of a giddy ghl, whose conduct was regulated
neither by sense nor reason ; but he did not keep his resolution.
The other votaries of love, who were numerous in this court,
were more successful, the journey being undertaken solely on
that account. There were continual baUs and entertainments
upon the road; hunting, and aU other diversions, wherever
the court halted in its progress. The tender lovers flattered

2 P

336 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
themselves with the thought of being able to crown theh hap
piness as they proceeded in theh journey ; and the beauties
who governed theh destiny did not forbid them to hope. Sid
ney paid his court with wonderful assiduity: the duchess made
the duke take notice of his late perfect devotion to his service:
his royal highness observed it, and agreed that he ought to be
remembered upon the first opportunity, which happened soon
after. Montagu, as before mentioned, was master of the horse to
the duchess : he was possessed of a great deal of wit, had much
penetration, and loved mischief. How could she bear such a
man near her person, in the present situation of her heart ?
This greatly embarrassed her; but Montagu's elder brother
having, very a-propos, got liimseh kiUed where he had no
business * the duke obtained for Montagu the post of master
of the horse to the queen, which the deceased enjoyed; and
the handsome Sidney was appointed to succeed him in the
same employment to the duchess. AU this happened accord
ing to her wish ; and the duke was highly pleased that he had
found means to promote these two gentlemen at once, without
being at the least expense.
Miss Hobart greatly applauded these promotions : she had
frequent and long conversations with Sidney, which, being
* Montagu's elder brother was killed before Bergen, about August,
1665. See Arlington's Letters, vol. ii p. 87. TTia name was Edward.
Boyer, who in his Life of Queen Anne, has made several mistakes about
him, says he was dismissed for offending her majesty, by squeezing her
hand. Probably he was disgraced for a time, and on that account went
abroad. — See Continuation of Clarendon, p. 292.
He is mentioned in the State Poems as
 Montagu, by court disaster,
Dwindled into the wooden horse's master.
Advice to a Painter, Part i.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 337
remarked, some did her the honour to believe it was upon her
own account ; and the compliments that were made her upon
the occasion she most willingly received. The duke, who be
lieved it at first, observed to the duchess the unaccountable
taste of certain persons, and how the handsomest young feUow
in England was infatuated with such a frightful creature.
The duchess confessed that taste was very arbitrary ; the
truth whereof he himseh seemed to be convinced of, since he
had fixed upon the beauteous Helen for his mistress. I know
not whether this raiUery caused him to reflect for what reasons
he had made his choice ; but it is certain he began to cool in
his affections for Miss ChurchUl ; and perhaps be would en
tirely have abandoned this pursuit, had not an accident taken
place, which raised in him an enthely new inclination for her.
The court having halted for a few days in a fine open
country, the duchess was deshous of seeing a greyhound
course. This diversion is practised in England upon large
downs, where the turf, eaten by the sheep, is particularly
green, and wonderfully even. She was in her coach, and aU
the ladies on horseback, every one of them being attended by
her squire ; it therefore was but reasonable that the mistress
should likewise have her squhe. He accordingly was at the
side of her coach, and seemed to compensate for his deficiencies
in conversation, by the uncommon beauty of his mien and
figure. The duke attended Miss ChurchUl, not for the sake of
besieging her with soft flattering tales of love, but, on the con
trary, to chide her for sitting so Ul on horseback : She was
one of the most indolent creatures in the world ; and although
the maids of honour are geneTaUy the worst mounted of the
whole court, yet, in order to distinguish her, on account of the
favour she enjoyed, they had given her a very pretty, though

338 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
rather a high-sphited 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 countenance had
almost completed the duke's disgust, when her horse, desirous
of keeping pace with the others, set off in a gallop, notwith
standing her greatest efforts to prevent it; and her endeavours
to hold hfm in, firing his mettle, he at length set off at fuU
speed, as if he was running a race against the duke's horse.
Miss ChurchUl lost her seat, screamed out, and feU from
her horse. A faU in so quick a pace must have been violent ;
and yet it proved favourable to her in every respect ; for, with
out receiving any hurt, she gave the he to all the unfavourable
suppositions that had been formed of her person, in judging
from her face. The duke ahghted, in order to help her : she
was so greatly stunned, that her thoughts were otherwise em
ployed than about decency on the present occasion ; and those
who first crowded around her found her rather in a neghgent
posture : they could hardly beheve that limbs of such ex
quisite beauty could belong to Miss ChurchUl'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, equaUy satisfied with theh respective excursions ; though
the queen was disappointed in the hopes she had entertained
of the good effects of the Tunbridge waters.
It was about this time that the Chevaher de Grammont
received a letter from the Marchioness de Saint-Chaumont,
bis sister, acquainting him, that he might return when he
thought proper, the king having given him leave. He would

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 339
have received this news with joy at any other time, whatever
had been the charms of the English court ; but, in the present
situation of his heart, he could not resolve to quit it.
He had returned from Tunbridge a thousand times deeper
in love than ever ; for, during this agreeable excursion, he had
every day seen Miss HamUton, either in the marshes of melan
choly Peckham. or in the dehciou3 walks of cheerful Summer-
hUl, or in the daily diversions and entertainments of the
queen's court ; and whether he saw her on horseback, heard
her conversation, or observed her in the dance, stiU he was
persuaded that Heaven had ne\ er formed an object in every
respect more worthy of the love, and more deserving of the affec
tion, of a man of sense and dehcacy. How then was it pos
sible for him to bear the thoughts of leaving her ? This ap
peared to him absolutely impracticable ; however, as he was
desirous of making a merit with her, of the determination he
had made to neglect his fortune, rather than to be separated
from her charms, he showed her his sister's letter : but this
confidence had not the success he expected.
Miss Hamilton, in the first place, congratulated him upon his
recall : She returned him many thanks for the sacrifice he in
tended to make her ; but as this testimony of affection greatly
exceeded the bounds of mere gaUantry, however sensibly she
might feel this mark of his tenderness, she was, however, deter
mined not to abuse it. In vain did he protest that he would
rather meet death than part from her irresistible charms ; and
her irresistible charms protested that he should never see
them more, unless he departed immediately. Thus was he
forced to obey. However, he was aUowed 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

34Q

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.

was now so urgent ; and having generously given him assur
ances that, so far as depended upon herseh, 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.

BARBARA, DUCHESS OF CLEVF.LAND.

CHAPTER ELEVENTH.
RETURN OF THE CHEVALIER GRAMMONT TO FRANCE. — HE
IS SENT BACK TO ENGLAND. —VARIOUS LOVE INTRIGUES
AT THIS COURT, AND MARRIAGE OE MOST OF THE
HEROES OF THESE MEMOIRS.

HE nearer the Chevalier de Grammont approached
the court of France, the more did he regret his
absence from that of England.
A thousand different thoughts occupied his
mind upon the journey : Sometimes he reflected upon the joy
and satisfaction his friends and relations would experience upon
his return ; sometimes upon the congratulations and embraces
of those who, being neither the one nor the other, would, never
theless, overwhelm him with impertinent compliments : All
these ideas passed quickly through his bead ; for a man deeply
in love makes it a scruple of conscience not to suffer any other
thoughts to dwell upon his mind than those of the object
beloved. It was then the tender, endearing remembrance of
what he had left in London that diverted his thoughts from
Paris ; and it was the torments of absence that prevented his
feeling those of the bad roads and the bad horses. His heart
protested to Miss Hamilton, between Montreuil and Abbeville
343

344 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
that he only tore himseh from her with such haste, to return
the sooner ; after which, by a short reflection, comparing the
regret he had formerly felt upon the same road, in quitting
France for England, with that which he now experienced, in
quitting England for France, he found the last much more
insupportable than the former.
It is thus that a man in love entertains himself upon the
road; or rather, it is thus that a trifling writer abuses the
patience of his reader, either to display his own sentiments, or
to lengthen out a tedious story ; but God forbid that this
character should apply to ourselves, since we profess to insert
nothing in these memoirs, but what we have heard from the
mouth of him whose actions and sayings we transmit to pos
terity. Who, except Squire Eeraulas, has ever been able to keep a
register of aU the thoughts, sighs, and exclamations, of his
illustrious master ? For my own part, I should never have
thought that the attention of the Count de Grammont, which
is at present so sensible to inconveniences and dangers, would
have ever permitted him to entertain amorous thoughts upon
the road, if he did not himseK dictate to me what I am now
writing. But let us speak of him at AbbevUle. The postmaster
was his old acquaintance : His hotel was the best provided
of any between Calais and Paris ; and the Chevaher de Gram
mont, ahghting, 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, untU this instant, they had not eat a single mouth
ful. Termes, praising the Lord, that natural feehngs had for
once prevaUed over the inhumanity of his usual impatience,
confirmed him as much as possible in such reasonable senti
ments.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 345
Upon their entering the kitchen, where the Chevalier gener
aUy paid his first visit, they were surprised to see hah a
dozen spits loaded with game at the fire, and every other
preparation for a magnificent entertainment. The heart of
Termes leaped for joy : he gave private orders to the hostler
to puU the shoes off some of the horses, that he might not
be forced away from this place before he had satisfied his
craving appetite.
Soon after, a number of violins and hautboys, attended by
aU the mob of the town, entered the court. The landlord,
being asked the reason of these great preparations, acquainted
the Chevaher de Grammont that they were for the wedding
of one of the most wealthy gentlemen in the neighbourhood
with one of the handsomest girls in the whole province ;
that the entertainment was to be at his house ; and that, if
his lordship chose to stop, in a very short time he would see
the new-married couple arrive from the church, since the
music was aheady come. He was right in his conjectures ;
for these words were scarce out of his mouth, when three
uncommonly large coaches, loaded with lackeys, as taU as
Swiss, with most gaudy liveries, aU covered with lace, ap
peared in the court, and disembarked the whole wedding
company. Never was country magnificence more naturaUy
displayed: Rusty tinsel, tarnished lace, striped silks, httle
eyes, and fuU swelling breasts, appeared on every side.
H the first sight of the procession surprised the Chevaher
de Grammont, faithful Termes was no less astonished at the
second. The httle 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 hah, on each side, most completely con
cealed her from aU human eyes ; but it was the bridegroom

3a6. memoirs of count grammont.
wno most particularly attracted the Chevaher de Grammont's
attention. He was as ridiculously dressed as the rest of the company
except a coat of the greatest magnificence, and of the most
exquisite taste. The Chevaher de Grammont, walking up to
him to examine his dress, began to commend the embroidery
of bis coat. The bridegroom thought liimseh much honoured
by this examination, and told him he bought it for one hun
dred and fifty louis, at the time he was paying his addresses
to his whe. " Then you did not get it made here ?" said the
Chevalier de Grammont. " No," rephed the other ; " I bought
it of a London merchant, who had ordered it for an Enghsh
lord." The Chevalier de Grammont, who now began to
perceive in what manner the adventure would end, asked
him if he should recoUect the merchant if he saw him
again ? " RecoUect him !" rephed the other, " I surely ought ;
for I was obhged to sit up drinking with him aU night at
Calais, as I was endeavouring to beat down the price." Termes
had vanished out of sight as soon as ever this coat appeared,
though he httle supposed that the cursed bridegroom would
have any conversation concerning it with his master.
The Chevaher's thoughts were some time wavering between
bis inclination to laugh, and a deshe of hanging Master
Termes ; but the long habit of suffering himseh to be robbed
by bis domestics, together with the vigilance of the criminal,
whom his master could not reproach with having slept in his
service, inclined him to clemency ; and yielding to the impor
tunities of the country gentleman, in order to confound his
faithful servant, he sat down to table, to make the thirty-
seventh of the company.
A short time after, he desired one of the waiters to caU
t
for a gentleman whose name was Termes. He immediately

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 347
appeared ; and as soon as the master of the feast saw him, he
rose from table, and offering him his hand ; " Welcome, my
friend," said he ; " you see that I have taken good care of the
coat which you sold me with so much reluctance, and that I
have kept it for a good purpose."
Termes, having put on a face of brass, pretended not to
know him, and pushed him back with some degree of rude
ness. " No, no !" said the other ; " since I was obhged to
sit up with you the whole night, in order to strike the bar
gain, you shaU pledge me in the bride's health." The Cheva
her de Grammont, who saw that Termes was disconcerted,
notwithstanding his impudence, 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 wiU be room enough for such an honest gentleman
as yourseh." At these words five-and-thirty of the guests
were in motion to receive this new visitor : the bride alone,
out of an idea of decorum, remained seated ; and the audacious
Termes, having swallowed the first shame of this adventure,
began to lay about him at such a rate, as if it had been his
intention to swaUow aU the wine provided for the wedding,
if his master had not risen from the table as they were taking
off four-and-twenty soups, to serve up as many other dishes in
theh stead.
The company were not so unreasonable as to deshe a man
who was in such haste to remain to the end of a wedding din
ner ; but they aU got up when he arose from table, and aU
that he could obtain from the bridegroom was that the com
pany should not attend him to the gate of the inn. As for
Termes, he wished they had not quitted him tUl the end of
theh journey, so much did he dread being left alone with hi?
master.

2 Q

348 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
They had advanced some distance from Abbeville, and were
proceeding on in the most profound sUence, when Termes, who
expected an end to it in a short time, was only sohcitous 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 suhen sUence, he thought it prudent
rather to prevent the speech the Chevaher was meditating thau
to suffer him to think longer about it ; and, accordingly, arm
ing himsolf with aU his effrontery : " You seem to be very
angry, Sir," said he, " and I suppose you think you have rea
son for being so ; but the devU take me, if you are not mistaken
in reality."
" How ! traitor ! in reahty ?" said the Chevaher de Gram
mont. " It is then because I have not had thee weU 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. " " Aud was not the quicksand likewise for my ser
vice 1" said the Chevalier de Grammont. " Have patience, if
you please," pursued the other : " I know not how that simple
ton of a bridegroom happened to be at the custom-house when
my portmanteau was examined at Calais: but those shly
cuckolds thrust in theh noses everywhere. As soon as ever
he saw your coat, he feU in love with it. I immediately per
ceived he was a fool; for he feU down upon his knees, beseech
ing me to seU it him. Besides being greatly rumpled in the
portmanteau, it was aU stained in front by the sweat of the
horses. I wonder how the devU he has managed to get it
cleaned ; but, faith, I am the greatest scoundrel in the world,

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 349
if you would ever have put it on. In a word, it cost you one
hundred and forty louis d'ors, and seeing he offered me one hun
dred and fifty for it ; 'My master,' said I, 'has no occasion for
this tinseUed bauble to distinguish him at the bah; and,
although he was pretty fuU of cash when I left him, how know
I in what situation he may be upon my return ? there is no
certainty at play.' To be brief, Sir, I got ten louis d'ors for it
more than it cost you : this you see is ah clear profit: I wUl be
accountable to you for it, and you know that I am sufficiently
substantial to make good such a sum. Confess now, do you
think you would have appeared to greater advantage at the
baU, if you had been dressed out in that damned coat, which
would have made you look just like the village bridegroom to
whom we sold it ? and yet how you stormed at London when
you thought it lost ; what fine stories you told the king about
the quicksand ; and how churlish you looked, when you first
began to suppose that this country looby wore it at his
wedding !"
What could the Chevaher reply to such uncommon impu
dence ? U 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 remainder of his journey ; and, as
soon as he was at Paris, he had occasion for him for his return.
The Marechal de Grammont had no sooner notice of his
arrival than he went to him at the hotel ; and, the first em
braces being over on both sides, " Chevaher," said the Mare--
chal, "how many days have you been in coming from London
hither ? for God knows at what a rate you travel on such oc
casions." The Chevaher told him he had been three days
upon the road ; and, to excuse himseh for making no more
ha3te, he related to him his AbbeviUe adventure. " It is a

350 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
very entertaining one," said his brother ; " but what is yet
more entertaining is, that it wiU be your fault if you do not find
your coat stiU at table ; for the country gentry are not accus
tomed to rise very soon from a wedding dinner." And then,
in a very serious tone, told him, " he knew not who had ad
vised bim to this unexpected return, which might probably
ruin aU his affairs ; but he had orders from the king to bid him
go back again without appearing at court. He told him after
wards that he was very much astonished at his impatience, as,
tUl this time, he had conducted himseh uncommonly weU,
and was sufficiently acquainted with the king's temper to
know that the only way to merit his pardon was to wait until
it freely came from his clemency."
The Chevaher, in justification of his conduct, produced
Madame de Saint Chaumont's letter, and told the Mare'chal
that he would very willingly have spared her the trouble of
writing him such kind of news, to occasion bim so useless a»
j ourney. " StiU more indiscretion," replied his brother ; "for
pray how long has our sister being either secretary of state or
minister, that she should be employed by the king to make
known his majesty's order ? Do you wish to know the real
state of the case ? Some time ago the king told Madame*
* Henrietta, youngest daughter of Charles the First, born at Exeter
16th June, 1644, from whence she was removed to London in 1646, and,
with her governess, Lady Dalkeith, soon afterwards conveyed to France.
On the restoration, she came over to England with her mother, but
returned to France in about six months, and was married to Philip,
Duke of Orleans, only brother of Louis XIV. In May, 1670, she came
again to Dover, on a mission of a political nature, it is supposed, from
the French king to her brother, in which she was successful. She died,
Boon 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

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 351
how you had refused the pension the King of England offered
you : he appeared pleased with the manner in which Com-
minges had related to him the chcumstances attending it, and
said he was pleased with you for it : Madame interpreted this
as an order for your recall ; and Madame de Saint Chaumont
being very far from possessing that wonderful discretion she
imagines herseh mistress of, she hastened to despatch to you
this consequential order in her own hand. To conclude ,
Madame said yesterday, when the king was at dinner, that you
would very soon be here ; and the king, as soon as dinner was
over, commanded me to send you back as soon as you arrived.
Here you are ; set off again immediately."
This order might have appeared severe to the Chevaher de
Grammont at any other time ; but, in the present state of his
heart, he soon resolved upon obeying. Nothing gave him un
easiness but the officious advice which had obliged him to
leave the Enghsh court ; and being entirely unconcerned that
he was not aUowed to see the French court before his depar
ture, he only deshed the Marechal to obtain leave for him to
stay a few days to coUect in some play debts which were
owing him. This request was granted, on condition that he
should not remain in Paris.
He chose Vaugirard for his retreat : it was there that he
had several adventures which he so often related in so humo-

was opened, in the presence of the English ambassador, the • Earl of
Ailesbury, an English physician and surgeon, there appeared no grounds
of suspicion of any foul play. Yet Bucks talked openly that she was
poisoned ; and was so violent as to propose to foreign ministers to make
war on France." — Macpherson's Original Papers, vol. i. At the end
of Lord Arlington's Letters are five very remarkable ones from a person
of quality, who is said to have been actually on the spot, giving a par
ticular relation of her death.

352 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
rous and diverting a manner, that it would be tedious to repeat
them ; there it was that he administered the sacrament in so
solemn a manner, that, as there did not remain a sufficient
number of Swiss at Versailles to guard the chapel, Vardes was
obliged to acquaint the king that they were aU gone to the
Chevalier de Grammont, who was administering the sacrament
at Vaugirard : there hkewise happened that wonderful adven
ture which threw the first slur upon the reputation of the
great Saucourt, when, having a tete-a-tete with the gardener's
daughter, the horn, which was agreed upon as the signal to
prevent surprises, was sounded so often, that the frequent
alarms cooled the courage of the celebrated Saucourt, and
rendered useless the assignation that was procured for him with
one of the prettiest girls in the neighbourhood. It was, hke
wise, during his stay at Vaugirard, that he paid a visit to
MademoiseUe de l'H6pital at Issy, to inquire into the truth of
a report of an amour between her and a man of the long robe ;
and it was there that, on his arriving unexpectedly, the Pre
sident de Maisons was forced to take refuge in a closet, with
so much precipitation, that hah of his robe remained on the
outside when he shut the door ; whUe the Chevaher de Gram
mont, who observed it, made his visit excessively long, in
order to keep the two lovers upon the rack.
His business being settled, he set out for England on tne
wings of love. Termes redoubled his vigUance upon the road.
The post horses were ready in an instant at every stage: the
winds and tides favoured his impatience; and he reached
London with the highest satisfaction. The court was both
surprised and charmed at his sudden return. No person con-
* doled with him upon his late disappointment, which had occa
sioned him to come back, as he testified no manner of uneasi
ness concerning it himseh : nor was Miss HamUton in the

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 3S3
least displeased at his readiness in obeying the orders of the
king his master.
Nothing new had happened in the Enghsh 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 concerns of the court during the greatest
part of this gay reign.
The Duke of Monmouth ,* natural son to Charles the Second,
now made his first appearance in his father's court. His en
trance upon the stage of the world was so briUiant, his ambi-
* James Duke of Monmouth, was the son of Charles the IL, by one
Lucy Walters. He was born at Rotterdam, April 9, 1649, and bore the
name of James Crofts until the restoration. His education was chiefly
at Paris, under the eye of the queen-mother, and the government of
Thomas Boss, 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 honours and
riches upon him, which were not sufficient to satisfy his ambitious views.
To exclude his uncle, the Duke of York, from the throne, he was con
tinually intriguing with the opposers of government, and was frequently
in disgrace with his sovereign. On the accession of James II. he made
an ineffectual attempt to raise a rebellion, was taken prisoner, and
beheaded on Tower-hill, 15th July, 1C85. Mr. Macpherson ha3 drawn
his character in the following terms : " Monmouth, highly beloved by
the populace, was a fit instrument to carry forward his (i. e. Shaftes
bury's) designs. To a gracefulness which prejudiced mankind in his
favour as soon as seen, he joined an affability which gained their love.
Constant in his friendships, and just to his word, by nature tender, and
an utter enemy to severity and cruelty, active and vigorous in his con
stitution, he excelled in the manly exercises of the field. He was per
sonally brave. He loved the pomp and the very dangers of war. But
with these splendid qualities, he was vain to a degree of folly, versatile
in his measures, weak in his understanding. He was ambitious without
dignity, busy without consequence, attempting ever to be artful, but
always a fooL Thus, taking the applause of the multitude for a certain
mark of merit, he was the dupe of his own vanity, and owed all his mis
fortunes to that weakness." — History of England, vol. i., chap. iii.

354 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
tion had occasioned so many considerable events, and the par
ticulars of his tragical end are so recent, that it were needless
to produce any other traits to give a sketch of his character.
By the whole tenor of his hfe, he appeared to be rash in his
undertakings, irresolute in the execution, and dejected in his
misfortunes, in which, at least, an undaunted resolution ought
to equal the greatness of the attempt.
His figure and the exterior graces of his person were such,
that nature perhaps never formed anything more complete :
His face was extremely handsome ; and yet it was a manly
face, neither inanimate nor effeminate ; each feature having its
beauty and peculiar delicacy : He had a wonderful genius for
every sort of exercise, an engaging aspect, and an ah of gran
deur : in a word, he possessed every personal advantage ; but
then he was greatly deficient in mental accomplishments. He
had no sentiments but such as others inspired him with ; and
those who first insinuated themselves into his friendship, took
care to inspire him with none but such as were pernicious.
The astonishing beauty of his outward form caused universal
admiration : those who before were looked upon as handsome
were now entirely forgotten at court : and aU the gay and
beauthul of the fah sex were at his devotion. He was parti
cularly beloved by the king ; but the universal terror of hus
bands and lovers. This, however, did not long continue ; for
nature not having endowed him with qualifications to secure
the possession of the heart, the fah sex soon perceived the
defect. The Duchess of Cleveland was out of humour with the
king, because the chUdren she had by his majesty were hke
bo many httle puppets, compared to this new Adonis. She
was the more particularly hurt, as she might have boasted of
being the queen of love, in comparison with the duke's mother.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.

3S5

The king, however, laughed at her reproaches, as, for some time,
she had certainly no right to make any ; and, as this piece of
jealousy appeared to be more Ul-founded than any she had
formerly affected, no person approved of her ridiculous resent
ment. Not succeeding in this, she formed another scheme to
give the king uneasiness : Instead of opposing his extreme
tenderness for his son, she pretended to adopt him, in her affec
tion, by a thousand commendations and caresses, which she
was daUy and continuaUy increasing. As these endearments
were pubhc, she imagined they could not be suspected ; but
she was too weU known for her real design to be mistaken.
The king was no longer jealous of her ; but, as the Duke of
Monmouth was of an age not to be insensible to the attractions
of a woman possessing so many charms, he thought it proper to
withdraw him from this pretended mother-in-law, to preserve
his innocence, or at least his fame, uncontaminated : it was
for this reason, therefore, that the king married him so young.
An heiress of five thousand pounds a-year in Scotland,*
• This was Lady Anne Scott, daughter and sole heir of Francis, Earl
of Buccleugh, only son and heir of Walter, Lord Scott, created Earl of
Buccleugh in 1619. On their marriage the duke took the surname of
Scott, and he and his lady were created Duke and Duchess of Buccleugh,
Earl and Countess of Dalkeith, Baron and Baroness of Whitchester and
Ashdale in Scotland, by letters patent, dated April 20th, 1673. Also,
two days after he was installed at Windsor, the king and queen, the
Duke of York, and most of the court being present. The next day,
being St. George's day, his majesty solemnized it with a royal feast, and
entertained the knights companions in St. George's hall in the castle of
Windsor. Though there were several children of this marriage, it does
not appear to have been a happy one ; the duke, without concealment,
attaching himself to Lady Harriet Wentworth, whom, with his dying
breath, he declared he considered as his only wife in the sight of God.
The duchess in May, 1688, took to her second husband Charles, Lord
Cornwallis. ' She died Feb. 6, 1731-32, in the 81st year of her age,
and was buried at Dalkeith in Scotland. Our author is not more
2 R

356 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
offered very a-propos: her person was fuU of charms, and
her mind possessed aU those perfections in which the hand
some Monmouth was deficient.
New festivals and entertainments celebrated this marriage.
The most effectual method to pay court to the king, was to
outshine the rest in brilliancy and grandeur ; and whUst these
rejoicings brought forward aU manner of gaUantry and magni
ficence, they either revived old, or established new amours.
The fah Stewart, then in the meridian of her glory, attracted
aU eyes, and commanded universal respect and admhation.
The Duchess of Cleveland endeavoured to echpse her at this
fete, by a load of jewels, and by aU the artificial ornaments of
dress ; but it was in vain : her face looked rather thin and
pale, from the commencement of a third or fourth pregnancy,
which the king was stiU 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 Mon-
mouths's nuptials, KUlegrew,* having nothing better to do,
. correct about figures than he avows himself to be' in the arrange
ment of facts and dates : the duchess's fortune was much greater than
he has stated it to have been.
* Thomas Killegrew was one of the sons of Sir Robert Killegrew,
chamberlain to the queen, and was born at Hanworth, in the county of
Middlesex, in the month of February, 1611. He seems to have been
early intended for the court, and to qualify him for rising there, every
circumstance of his education appears to have been adapted. He was
appointed page of honour to King Charles I., and faithfully adhered to

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 357
feU in love with Lady Shrewsbury ; and, as Lady Shrews oury,
by a very extraordinary chance, had no engagement at that
time, their amour was soon estabhshed. No one thought of
interrupting an intimacy which did not concern any one ;
but KUlegrew thought proper to disturb it himseK. Not that
his happiness feU short of his expectation, nor did possession
put bim out of love with a situation so enviable ; but he was
amazed that he was not envied, and offended that his good
fortune raised him no rivals.

his cause until the death of his master ; after which he attended his son
in his exile; to whom he was highly acceptable, on account of his social
and convivial qualifications. He married Mrs. Cecilia Crofts, one of the
maids of honour to Queen Henrietta. In 1651 he was sent to Venice, as
resident at that state, although, says Lord Clarendon, "the king was much
dissuaded from it, but afterwards his majesty was prevailed upon, only to
gratify him, that in that capacity he might borrow money of English mer
chants for his own subsistence; which he did, and nothing to the honour of
his master; but was at last compelled to leave the republic for his vicious
behaviour ; of which the Venetian ambassador complained to the king,
when he came afterwards to Paris.'' On his return from Venice, Sir
John Denham wrote a copy of verses, printed in his works, bantering
the foibles of his friend Killegrew ; who, from his account, was as httle
sensible to the miseries of exile as his royal master. His attachment
to the interests of Charles II. continued unabated, and at the restora
tion he was appointed groom of the bed-chamber, and became so great
a favourite with his majesty, that he was admitted into his company on
terms of the most unrestrained familiarity, when audience was refused '
to the first ministers, and even on the most important occasions. It does
not appear that he availed himself of his interest with the king, either
to amass a fortune, or to advance himself in the state : We do not find
that he obtained any other preferment than the post of master of the
revels, which he held with that of groom of the bed-chamber. Oldys
says he was king's jester at the same time; but although he might, and
certainly did, entertain his majesty in that capacity, it can scarce be
imagined to have been in consequence of any appointment of that kind.
He died at Whitehall, 19th March, 1682, bewailed, as it is said, by his
friends, and truly wept for by the poor.

358 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
He possessed a great deal of wit, and stiU more eloquence,
which most particularly displayed itseh when he was a httle
elevated with the juice of the grape : he then indulged him
seh in giving luxurious descriptions of Lady Shrewsbury's
most secret charms and beauties, which above hah the court
were as weU acquainted with as himself.
The Duke of Buckingham was one of those who could only
judge from outward appearances : and appearances, in his
opinion, did not seem to promise any thing so exquisite as the
extravagant praises of Killegrew would infer. As this indis
creet lover was a frequent guest at the Duke of Buckingham's
table, he was continuaUy employing his rhetoric on this sub
ject, and he had fuU opportunity for his harangues ; for they
generaUy sat down to dinner at four o'clock, and only rose
just in time for the play in the evening.
The Duke of Buckingham, whose ears were continuaUy
deafened with descriptions of Lady Shrewsbury's merits,
resolved at last to examine into the truth of the matter him
self. As soon as he had made the experiment, he was satis
fied ; and, though he fancied that fame did not exceed the
truth, yet this intrigue began in such a manner, that it was
generaUy beheved its duration would be short, considering
the fickleness of both patties, and the vivacity with which
they had engaged in it : nevertheless, no amour in England
ever continued so long.
The imprudent KUlegrew, who could not be satisfied with
out rivals, was obhged, in the end, to be satisfied without a
mistress. This he bore very impatiently; but so far was
Lady Shrewsbury from hearkening to, or affording any re
dress for the grievances at first complained of, that she pre
tended even not to know him. His spirit could not brook
such .treatment; and. without ever considering that he was

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 359
the author of his own disgrace, he let loose aU 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 aU her personal charms,
which he used to extol, into defects. He was privately
warned of the inconveniences to which these declamations
might subject him, but despised the advice, and, persisting,
he soon had reason to repent it.
As he was returning one evening from the Duke of York's
apartments at St. James's, three passes with a sword were
made at him through his chair, one of which went entirely
through his arm. Upon this, he was sensible of the danger
to which his intemperate tongue had exposed bim^ 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 aU complaints would be useless ;
for what redress from justice could he expect for an attempt
of which his wounds were his only evidence ? And, besides,
he was convinced that if he began a prosecution founded
upon appearances and conjectures, the parties concerned
would take the shortest and most effectual means to put a
stop to aU inquiries upon the subject, and that theh second
attempt would not prove ineffectual. Being deshous, there
fore, of deserving mercy from those who had endeavoured to
assassinate him, he no longer continued his satires, and said
not a word of the adventure. The Duke of Buckingham
and Lady Shrewsbury remained for a long period both happy
and contented.* Never before had her constancy been of so
* In a letter from Andrew Marvel, dated August 9, 1671, he says,
"Buckingham runs out all with the Lady Shrewsbury, whom he believes
he had a son (by,) to whom the king stood godfather : It died young

360 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
long a duration ; nor had he ever been so submissive and re
spectful a lover.
This continued until Lord Shrewsbury, who never before
had shown the least uneasiness at his lady's misconduct,
thought proper to resent this : it was pubhc enough, indeed,
but less dishonourable to her than any of her former in
trigues. Poor Lord Shrewsbury, too pohte a man to make
any reproaches to his wife, was resolved to have redress for
his injured honour : he accordingly chaUenged the Duke of
Buckingham ; and the Duke of Buckingham, as a reparation
for his honour, having kUled him upon the spot, remained a
peaceable possessor of this famous Helen. The public was
at first shocked at the transaction; but the public grows
familiar with everything by habit, and by degrees both
decency, and even virtue itseh, are rendered tame, and over
come. The queen was at the head of those who exclaimed
against so public and scandalous a crime, and against the
impunity of such a wicked act. As the Duchess of Buck
ingham * was a short fat body, hke her majesty, who never

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 Shrews
bury was killed by the Duke of Buckingham happened 16th March,
1667. * "Mary, Duchess of Buckingham, was the only daughter of Thomas,
Lord Fairfax, and Anne, the daughter of Horace, Lord Vere ; a most
virtuous and pious lady, in a vicious age and court. If she had any of
the vanities, she had certainly none of the vices of it. The duke and
she lived lovingly and decently together; she patiently bearing with
those faults in him which she could not remedy. She survived him many
years, and died near St. James's, at Westminster, and was buried in the
vault of the family of Villiers, in Henry VII.'s chapel, anno 1705,
setat 66."— Brian Fairfaxes Life of the Duke of Buckingham, 4to,
1758, p. 39. She was married at Nun Appleton, September 6, 1657.
In the Memoirs of the English Court, by Madame Dunois, p. 11, it is

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 361
had had any chUdren, and whom her husband had abandoned
for another ; this sort of paraUel in theh situations interested
the queen in her favour ; but it was aU in vain : no person
paid any attention to them; the hcentiousness of the age
went on uncontroUed, though the queen endeavoured to raise
up the serious part of the nation, the politicians and devotees,
as enemies against it.
The fate of this princess was in many cases truly melan
choly : The king, indeed, paid her every outward attention ;
but that was aU : She easUy perceived that the respect he
entertained for her daUy diminished, in proportion as the
credit of her rivals increased : She saw that the king her hus
band was now totaUy indifferent about legitimate chUdren,
since his aU-charming mistresses bore him others. As aU

said, " the Dnchess of Buckingham has merit and virtue ; she is brown
and lean, but had she been the most beautiful and charming of her sex,
the being his wife would have been sufficient alone to have inspired him
with a dislike. Notwithstanding she knew he was always intriguing,
yet she never spoke of it, and had complaisance enough to entertain his
mistresses, and even to lodge them in her house ; all which she suffered
because she loved him.'' In some manuscript notes in Oldys' copy of
Langbaine, by a gentleman still living, we are told that the old Lady
Viscountess de Longueville, grandmother to the Earl of Sussex, who died
in 1763, aged near 100, used to tell many little anecdotes of Charles IL's
queen, whom she described as a little ungraceful woman, so short legged,
that when she stood upon her feet, you would have thought she was on
her knees, and yet so long waisted, that when she sat down she
appeared a well-sized woman. She also described the Duchess of
Buckingham, to whom she was related, as much such another in person
as the queen ; a little round crumpled woman, very fond of finery. She
remembered paying her a visit when she (the duchess) was in mourning,
at which time she found her lying on a sofa, with a kind of loose robe
over her, all edged or laced with gold. This circumstance gives credit
to Fairfax's observation above, that if she had any of the vanities, she
had certainly none of the vices of the court.

362 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
the happiness of her hfe depended upon that blessing, and as
she flattered herseh that the king would prove kinder to her
if Heaven would vouchsafe to grant her desires, she had re
course to aU the celebrated secrets against sterihty: pious
vows, nine days' prayers, and offerings having been tried in all
manners, but all to no purpose, she was at last obhged to
return to natural means.
What would she have given on this occasion for the ring
which Archbishop Turpin wore on his finger, and which
made Charlemagne run after him, in the same manner as it
had made him run after one of his concubines, from whose
finger Turpin had taken it after her death ! But it is now
many years since the only tahsmans for creating love are the
charms of the person beloved, and foreign enchantments have
been looked upon as ineffectual. The queen's physicians,
men of great prudence, sagacity, and wisdom, as they always
are, having duly weighed and considered that the cold waters
of Tunbridge had not succeeded in the preceding year, con
cluded that it would be advisable for her to try the warm
baths at Bristol. * This journey was therefore fixed for the
next season ; and in the confidence of its proving effectual,
this excursion would have afforded her much pleasure, if the
most dangerous of her rivals had not been one of the first
that was appointed to attend the court. The Duchess of
Cleveland being then near her time, there was no uneasiness
on her account : the common rules of decency required a
httle attention. The pubhc, it is true, was not either more
or less acquainted with the chcumstances of her situation ;
* I believe that Bath, not Bristol, is the place intended by the author.
Queen Katharine's visit to the former place was earlier than to Tun
bridge, being about the latter end of September, 1663. See Wood
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 :

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 363
by the care which she now took to conceal it ; but her
appearing at court in her present condition would have been
too great an insult to the queen. Miss Stewart, more hand
some than ever, was appointed for this excursion, and began
to make magnificent preparations. The poor queen durst say
nothing against it ; but aU hopes of success immediately for
sook her. What could the baths, or the feeble virtue of the
waters, perform against charms that entirely counteracted
theh effects, either through the grief and uneasiness they
occasioned her, or by their still more powerful consequences ?
The Chevaher de Grammont, to whom aU pleasures were
insipid without the presence of Miss Hamilton, was yet unable
to excuse himseh from attending the court : the king delighted
too much in his sprightly conversation to leave him behind ;
and however pleasing his company might have been in the
sohtude occasioned by the absence of the court, Miss HamUton
did not think it right to accept his offer of staying in town,
because she was obhged to remain there : she, however, granted
him the permission of writing her an account of any news that
might occur upon the journey. He faUed not to make use of
this permission, hi such a manner as one may imagine : and
his own concerns took up so much space in his letters, that
there was very httle 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
" 1663. Sir John Knight, mayor. John Broadway, Bichard Stre-
mer, sheriffs.
" The 5th of September, the king and queen, with James, Duke of
York, and his Duchess, and Prince Bupert, &c, came to Bristol, and
were splendidly received and entertained by the mayor, at a dinner
provided on the occasion. They returned to Bath at four o'clock.
150 pieces of ordnance were discharged in the Marsh, at three distinct
times."— Barretts History, &c, of Bristol, p. 692.

364 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT,
that might dissipate his impatience, until the happy moment
of return arrived.
He had a great esteem for the elder of the HamUtons ; no
less esteem, and far more friendsliip for his brother, whom he
made the confidant of Ms passion and attachment for his sister.
The Chevaher was also acquainted with his first engagements
with his cousin WetenhaU ; but being ignorant of the coldness
that had interrupted a commerce so brisk in its commence
ment, he was surprised at the eagerness he showed upon aU
occasions to please Miss Stewart : his assiduity appeared to
the Chevalier de Grammont to exceed those civilities and at
tentions that are usuaUy paid for the purpose of making court
to the favourites of princes. He observed him more strictly,
and soon perceived that he was deeper in love with her than
was consistent either with his fortune or his repose. As soon
as the remarks he made had confirmed him in his suspicions,
he resolved to use his endeavours to prevent the consequences
of an engagement pernicious in every respect : but he waited
for a proper opportunity of speaking to bim upon the subject.
In the mean time, the court enjoyed every kind of diversion,
in a place where amusement is sought with avidity. The game
of bowls, which in France is the pastime of mechanics and
servants only, is quite the contrary in England, where it is
the exercise of gentlemen, and requires both art and address :
it is only in use during the fah and dry part of the season,
and the places where it is practised are charming, dehcious
walks, caUed bowling-greens, which are httle 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 hberty to make what bets they please.
The Chevaher de Grammont, long before initiated in the

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 36

j

Enghsh games and diversions, had been engaged in a horse
race, in which he was indeed unsuccessful ; but he had the
satisfaction of being convinced by experience, that an English
horse can go twenty mUes upon the high road in less than an
hour. He was more fortunate at cock-fighting ; and in the
bets he made at the bowhng-green, the party he betted upon
never faded to win.
Near all these places of diversion there is usuaUy a sort of
inn, or house of entertainment, with a bower or arbour, in which
are sold aU sorts of English hquors, such as cider, mead,
bottled- beer, and Spanish wines. Here the rooks meet every
evening to drink, smoke, and to try their skiU upon each other,
or, in other words, to endeavour to trick one another out of
the winnings of the day. These rooks are, properly speaking,
what we caU 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 aU 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
HamUton found the Chevaher de Grammont, when he caUed
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 Chevaher de Grammont that
honour out of comphment: he had the dice in his hand
when Hamilton came into the room. The rooks ..secure of

366 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
theh odds, were betting against him at a high rate, and he
took all
HamUton could hardly beheve 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 of his danger,
both aloud in French, and in private by signs ; he still dis
regarded his warnings, and the dice, that bore Ctesar and his
fortunes, performed a miracle in his favour. The rooks were
defeated for the first time, but not without bestowing upon
him aU the encomiums and praises of being a very fah and
honourable player, which they never fail to lavish upon those
whom they wish to engage a second time ; but aU theh com
mendations were lost, and their hopes deceived: the Chevaher
was satisfied with the first experiment.
HamUton, when the king was at supper, related to him
how he found the Chevaher de Grammont rashly engaged
with the rooks, and in what manner he had been providen
tially preserved. " Indeed, Sir," said the Chevalier de Gram
mont, " the rooks were discomfited for once ;" and thereupon
related the adventure to his majesty in his usual way, attract
ing the attention of aU the company, to a chcumstance trifling
in itseh, but rendered interesting by his humour.
After supper, Miss Stewart, in whose apartment there was
play, caUed HamUton to her to teU the story. The Chevaher
de Grammont, perceiving that she attended to him with plea
sure, was fuUy confirmed in the truth of his first conjectures ;
and, having carried Hamilton home with him to supper, they
began to discourse freely together as usual : " George," said the
Chevalier de Grammont, " are you in any want of money ? I
know you love play : perhaps it may not be so favourable
to you as it is to me. We are at a great distance from
London. Here are two hundred guineas : take them, I beseech

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 3G7
you ; they wUl do to play with at Miss Stewart's." Hamilton,
who httle expected this conclusion, was rather disconcerted.
" How ! at Miss Stewart's !" " Yes, in her apartments. Friend
George," continued the Chevaher de Grammont. " I have not
yet lost my eyes : you are in love with her, and, if lam not
mistaken, she is not offended at it ; but teU me how you could
resolve to banish poor WetenhaU from your heart, and suffer
yourseh to be infatuated with a girl, who perhaps after aU is
not worth the other, and who besides, whatever favourable
dispositions she may have for you, wiU undoubtedly in the
end prove your ruin. Faith, your brother and you are two
pretty feUows, in your choice. What ! can you find no other
beauties in aU the court to faU 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 devU do you intend to do with a creature,
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 himseh one of her pro
fessed admirers ? Tou wiU soon see what he wiU make by it:
I have not forgotten what the king said to me upon the subject.
" Beheve me, my dear friend, there is no playing tricks with
our masters ; I mean, there is no ogling theh mistresses. I
myseh wanted to play the agreeable in France with a little
coquette, whom the king did not care about, and you know how
dearly I paid for it. I confess she gives you fair play, but do
not trust to her. AU the sex feel an unspeakable satisfaction
at having men in theh train, whom they care not for, and to
use them as their slaves of state, merely to swell their equip
age. Would it not be a great deal better to pass a week or ten
days incognito at Peckham, with the phUosopher WetenhaU's

368 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
whe, than to have it inserted in the Dutch Gazette, — We
hear from Bristol, that such a one is banished the court on
account of Miss Stewart, and that he is going to make a cam
paign in Guinea* on board the fleet that is fitting out for the
expedition, under the command of Prince Rupert."
HamUton, 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 addressing himseh with
an ah of gratitude to the Chevaher de Grammont : " Of aU
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 Ulusion 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 destruc
tion at the very brink of a precipice. This is not the only
kindness you have done me, your favours have been innume
rable ; and, as a proof of my gratitude for this last, I wiU fol
low your advice, and go into retirement at my cousin Weten-
haU's, to eradicate from my recoUection every trace of those
chimeras which lately possessed my brain ; but so far from
going thither incognito, I wUl take you along with me, as soon
as the court returns to London. My sister shaU likewise be of
the party ; for it is prudent to use aU 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," rephed the Chevaher de
Grammont : " but teU me what put it into your head to form
* This expedition was intended to have taken place in 1664. A
full account of it, and how it came to be laid aside, may be seen in the
Continuation of Clarendon's Life, p. 225.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 369
a design upon that inanimate statue, Miss Stewart?" "How
the devU should I know ?" said HamUton : " you are acquainted
with aU her chUdish amusements. The old Lord Carlingford*
was at her apartment one evening, showing her how to hold a
lighted wax candle in her mouth, and the grand secret con
sisted 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 theh going out. Every person present ad
judged me the prize of this illustrious experiment, and KUle
grew maintained that nothing but a lanthorn could stand in
competition with me. Upon this she was like to die with
laughing ; and thus was I admitted into the famiharity of her
amusements. It is impossible to deny her being one of the
most charming creatures that ever was : since the court has
been in the country, I have had an hundred opportunities of
seeing her, which I had not before. You know that the dis-
habiUe of the bath is a great convenience for those ladies, who,
strictly adhering to aU the rules of decorum, are yet deshous
to display aU theh charms and attractions. Miss Stewart is
so fuUy acquainted with the advantages she possesses over aU
other women, that it is hardly possible to praise any lady at
court for a weU-turned arm, and a fine leg, but she is ever
ready to dispute the point by demonstration ; and I reaUy be
heve, that, with a httle address, it would not be difficult to
induce her to strip naked, without ever reflecting upon what
she was doing. After aU, a man must be very insensible to
remain unconcerned and unmoved on such happy occasions ;
* Sir Theobald Taaffe, the second Viscount Taaffe, created Earl of
Carlingford, in the county of Louth, by privy seal, 17th June, 1661,
and by patent, 26th June, 1662. He died 31st December, 1677.

370 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
and, besides, the good opinion we entertain of ourselves is apt
to make us think a woman is smitten, as soon as she distin
guishes us by habitual familiarity, which most commonly sig
nifies nothing. This is the truth of the matter with respect to
myself : my own presumption, her beauty, the brilliant station
that sets it off, and a thousand kind things she had said to mo,
prevented me from making serious reflections ; but then, ns
some excuse for my folly, I must hkewise teU you, that the
facility I found in making her the tenderest declarations by
commending her, and her telling me in confidence a thousand
things which she ought not to have entrusted me with, might
have deceived or infatuated any other man as weU as myself.
" I presented her with one of the prettiest horses in England.
You know what peculiar grace and elegance distinguish her
on horseback. The king, who, of aU the diversions of the
chase, likes none but hawking, because it is the most con
venient for the ladies, went out the other day to take this
amusement, attended by all the beauties of his court. His
majesty having gaUoped after a falcon, and the whole bright
squadron after him, the rustling of Miss Stewart's petticoats
frightened her horse, which was at fuU speed, endeavouring to
come up with mine, that had been his companion ; so that I
was the only witness of a disorder in her clothes, which dis
played a thousand new beauties to my view. I had the good
fortune to make such gaUant and flattering exclamations upon
that charming disorder as to prevent her being concerned or
out of countenance upon it : on the contrary, this subject of
my admiration has been frequently since the subject of our
conversation, and did not seem to displease her.
" Old Lord Carlingford, and that mad feUow, Crofts* (for I
* William, Baron of Crofts, groom of the stole, and gentleman of the
bed-chamber to the Duke of York ; captain of a regiment of guards

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 371
must now make you my general confession), those insipid
buffoons, were frequently telling her some diverting stories,
which passed pretty weU with the help of a few old thread
bare jests, or some apish tricks in the recital, which made her
laugh heartUy. As for myseh, who know no stories, and do
not possess the talent of improving them by telling, if I did
know any, I was often greatly embarrassed when she desired
me to teU her one : ' I do not know one, indeed,' said I, one
day, when she was teazing me on the subject. ' Invent one,
then,' said she. ' That would be stUl more difficult,' rephed I;
' but if you wUl give me leave, madam, I wUl relate to you a
very extraordinary dream, which has, however, less appearance
of truth in it than dreams generaUy have.' This excited her
curiosity, which would brook no denial. I therefore began to
teU her that the most beautiful creature in the world, whom I
loved to distraction, paid me a visit in my sleep. I then drew
her own portrait, with a rapturous description of aU her beau
ties ; adding, that this goddess, who came to visit me with the
most favourable intentions, did not counteract them by any
unreasonable cruelty. This was not sufficient to satisfy Miss
Stewart's curiosity : I was obhged to relate every particular
circumstance of the kindness I experienced from this dehcate
phantom ; to which she was so very attentive, that she never
once appeared surprised or disconcerted at the luscious tale.
On the contrary, she made me repeat the description of the
beauty, which I drew as near as possible after her own person,
and after such charms as I imagined of beauties that were un
known to me.
of the queen-mother, gentleman of the bed-chamber to the king, and am
bassador to Poland. He had been sent to France by the Duke of York,
to congratulate Louis XrV. on the birth of the dauphin. See Biog.
Brit old Ed. vol. iv., p. 2738, and Continuation of Clarendon, p. 294.

372 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
" This is, in fact, the very thing that had aimost deprived
me of my senses : she knew very weU that she herself was the
person I was describing : we were alone, as you may imagine,
when I told her this story ; and my eyes did theh utmost to
persuade her that it was herseh whom I drew. I perceived
that she was not in the least offended at knowing this ; nor
was her modesty in the least alarmed at the relatiqn of a fic
tion, which I might have concluded in a manner stiU less dis
creet, if I had thought proper. This patient, audience made
me plunge headlong into the ocean of flattering ideas that
presented themselves to my imagination. I then no longer
thought of the king, nor how passionately fond he was of her,
nor of the dangers attendant upon such an engagement : in
short, I know not what the devU I was thinking of; but I am
very certain that, if you had not been thinking for me, I
might have found my ruin in the midst of these distracted
visions." Not long after, the court returned to London ; and from that
time, some malevolent star having gained the ascendant, every
thing went cross in the empire of Love : vexation, suspicions,
or jealousies, first entered the field, to set aU hearts at variance ;
next, false reports, slander, and disputes, completed the ruin
of all.
The Duchess of Cleveland had been brought to bed whUe
the court was at Bristol ; and never before had she recovered
from her lying-in with such a profusion of charms. This made
her beheve that she was in a proper state to retrieve her ancient
rights over the king's heart, if she had an opportunity of ap
pearing before him with this increased splendour. Her friends
" being of the same opinion, her equipage was prepared for this
expedition ; but the very evening before the day she had fixed

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.' 373
on to set out, she saw young ChurchUl * and was at once seized
with a disease, which had more than once opposed her projects,
and which she could never completely get the better of.
• Afterwards the celebrated Duke of Marlborough. He was born
midsummer-day, 1650, and died June 16, 1722. Bishop Burnet takes
notice of the discovery of this intrigue. " The Duchess of Cleveland
finding that she had lost the king, abandoned herself to great dis
orders ; one of which, by the artifice of the Duke of Buckingham, was
discovered by the king in person, the party concerned leaping out of
the window " — History of his own Times, vol. i. p. 370. This Was in
1668. A very particular account of this intrigue is to be seen in the
Alalantis of Mrs. Manley, vol. i., p. 30. The same writer, who had
lived as companion to the Duchess of Cleveland, says, in the account
Df her own Ufe, that she was an eye-witness when the duke, who had
received thousands from the duchess, refused the common civility of
lending her twenty guineas at basset. — The History of Rivella, 4th
ed. 1725, p. 33. Lord Chesterfield's character of this noblemen is too
remarkable to be omitted.
" Of all the men that ever I knew in my life, (and I knew him ex
tremely well,) the late Duke of Marlborough possessed the graces in the
highest degree, not to say engrossed them : and indeed he got the most
by them ! for I will venture, (contrary to the custom of profound histo
rians, who always assign deep causes to great events,) to ascribe the
better half of the Duke of Marlborough's greatness and riches to those
graces. He was eminently illiterate, wrote bad English, and spelled it
Btill worse. He had no share of what is commonly called parts ; that
is, he had no brightness, nothing shining in his genius. He had, most
undoubtedly, an excellent good plain understanding, with sound judg
ment. But these alone would probably have raised him but something
higher than they found him, which was page to King James II.'s queen.
There the graces protected and promoted him ; for while he was an
ensign of the guards, the Duchess of Cleveland, then favourite mistress
to King Charles IL, struck by those very graces, gave him five thousand
pounds ; with which he immediately bought an annuity for his life, of
five hundred pounds a-year, of my grandfather, Halifax ; which was the
foundation of his subsequent fortune. His figure was beautiful ; but
his manner was irresistible by either man or woman. It was by this
engaging, graceful manner, that he was enabled, during all his wars, to
connect the various and jarriDg powers of the grand alliance, and to carry

374 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
A man who, from an ensign in the guards, was raised to
such a fortune, must certainly possess an uncommon share of
prudence, not to be intoxicated with his happiness. Churchill
boasted in aU places of the new favour he had received : the
Duchess of Cleveland, who neither recommended to him cir
cumspection in his behaviour, nor in his conversation, did not
seem to be in the least concerned at his indiscretion. Thus
this intrigue was become a general topic in aU companies,
when the court arrived in London, and occasioned an immense
number of speculations and reasonings: some said she had
aheady presented him with Jermyn's pension, and Jacob Hall's
salary, because the merits and qualifications of both were united
in his person: others maintained that he had too indolent an
air, and too delicate a shape, long to maintain himseh in her
favour; but aU agreed that a man who was the favourite of
the king's mistress, and brother to the duke's favourite, was in
a fair way of preferment, and could not faU to make his for
tune. As a proof, the Duke of York soon after gave him a
place in his household : this was naturally to be expected ;
them on to the main object of the war, notwithstanding their private
and separate views, jealousies, and wrongheadednesses. Whatever court
he went to, (and he wa3 often obliged to go himself to some restive aud
refractory ones,) he as constantly prevailed, and brought them into his
measures. The pensionary Heinsius, a venerable old minister, grown
grey in business, and who had governed the republic of the United
Provinces for more than forty years, was absolutely governed by the
Duke of Marlborough, as that republic feels to this day. He was always
cool ; and nobody ever observed the least variation in his countenance.
He could refuse more gracefully than other people could grant ; and
those who went away from him the most dissatisfied, as to the substance
of their business, were yet personally charmed with him, and, in some
degree, comforted by his manner. With all his gracefulness, no man
living was more conscious of his situation, or maintained his diguity
better."— Chest. Letters, letter 136.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 375
but the king, who did not think that Lady Cleveland's kind
ness to him was a sufficient recommendation to his favour,
thought proper to forbid him the court.
This good-natured king began now to be rather peevish : nor
was it altogether without reason : he disturbed no person in
theh amours, and yet others had often the presumption to
encroach upon his. Lord Dorset, first lord of the bed-cham
ber, had lately debauched from his service NeU Gwyn, the
actress.* Lady Cleveland, whom he now no longer regarded,
* On this passage, the first translator of this work, Mr. Boyer, has
the following note : " The author of these memoirs is somewhat mistaken
in this particular ; for Nell Gwyn was my Lord Dorset's mistress, before
the king fell in love with her ; and I was told by the late Mr. Dryden,
that the king, having a mind to get her from his lordship, sent him upon
a sleeveless errand to France. However, it is not improbable that Nell
was afterwards kind to her first lover." Of the early part of Nell's
life, httle is known but what may be collected from the lampoons of
the times ; in which it is said that she was born in a night-cellar, sold
fish about the streets, rambled from tavern to tavern, entertaining the
company after dinner and supper with songs (her voice being very
agreeable); was next taken into the house of Madame Boss, a noted
courtezan ; and was afterwards admitted into the theatre, where she
became the mistress of both Hart and Lacey, the celebrated actors.
Other accounts say she was born in a cellar in the Coal-yard in Drury
lane ; and that she was first taken notice of when selling oranges in the
play-house. She belonged to the king's company at Drury-lane, and,
according to Downes, was received as an actress a few years after that
house was opened, in 1663. The first notice I find of her is in the year
1 668, when she performed in Dryden's play of ' Secret Love ;' after which
she may be traced every year until 1672, when I conjecture she quitted
the stage. Her forte appears to have been comedy. In an epilogue to
' Tyrannio Love,' spoken by her, she says,
 I walk, because I die
Out of my calling in a tragedy.
And from the name authority it may be collected that her person was
small, and she was negligent in her dress. Her son, the Duke of St.
Albans, was born before sh8 left the stage, viz., May 8, 1670. Bishop

376 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
continued to disgrace him by repeated infidelities with un
worthy rivals, and almost ruined him by the immense sums

Burnet speaks of her in these terms : — " Gwyn, the indiscreetest and wild
est creature that ever was in a court, continued, to the end of the king's
life, in great favour, and was maintained at a vast expense. The Duke
of Buckingham told me, that when she was first brought to the king,
she asked only 500 pounds a-year, and the king refused it. But when
he told me this, about four years after, he said she had got of the king
above sixty thousand pounds. She acted all persons in so lively a man
ner, and was such a constant diversion to the king, that even a new
mistress could not drive her away; but, after all, he never treated her
with the decencies of a mistress." — History of his Own Times, vol. i.,
p. 369. The same author notices the king's attention to her on his
death-bed. Cibber, who was dissatisfied with the bishop's account of
Nell, says, — " if we consider her in all the disadvantages of her rank
and education, she does not appear to have had any criminal errors,
more remarkable than her sex's frailty, to answer for ; and if the same
author, in his latter end of that prince's life, seems to reproach his
memory with too kind a concern for her support, we may allow it be
comes a bishop to have had no eyes or taste for the frivolous charms or
playful badinage of a king's mistress. Yet, if the common fame of her
may be believed, which, in my memory, was not doubted, she had less
to be laid to her charge than any other of those ladies who were in the
same state of preferment. She never meddled in matters of serious
moment, or was the tool of working politicians ; never broke into those
amorous infidelities which others, in that grave author, are accused of ;
but was as visibly distinguished by her particular personal inclination
to the king, as her rivals were by their titles and grandeur." — Gibber's
Apology, 8vo, p. 450. One of Madame Sevigne's letters exhibits no bad
portrait of Mrs. Gwyn. — " Mademoiselle de K  , (Kerouaille, after
wards Duchess of Portsmouth) has not been disappointed in anything
she proposed. She desired to be mistress to the king, and she is so :
he lodges with her almost every night, in the face of all the court : she
has had a son, who has been acknowledged, and presented with two
duchies : she amasses treasure, and makes herself feared and repected by
as many as she can. But she did not foresee that she should find a young
actress in her way, whom the king dotes on ; and she has it not in her
power to withdraw him from her. ne divides his care, his time, and

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 377
she lavished on her gaUants ; but that which most sensibly
affected bim, was the late coldness and threats of Miss Stewart.
He long since had offered her aU the settlements and aU the

his health, between these two. The actress is as haughty as Mademoi
selle : she insults her, she makes grimaces at her, she attacks her, she
frequently steals the king from her, and boasts whenever he gives her
the preference. She i3 young, indiscreet, confident, wild, and of an
agreeable humour : she sings, she dances, she acts her part with a good
grace. She has a son by the king, and hopes to have him acknowledged.
As to Mademoiselle, she reasons thus : This duchess, says she, pretends
to be a person of quality : she says she is related to the best families in
France : whenever any person of distinction dies, she puts herself in
mourning. — If she be a lady of such quality, why does she demean her
self to be a courtezan ? She ought to die with shame. As for me, it is
my profession : I do not pretend to anything better. He has a son by
me : I pretend that he ought to acknowledge him ; and I am well
assured he will ; for he loves me as well as Mademoiselle. This crea
ture gets the upper hand, and discountenances and embarrasses the
duchess extremely." — Letter 92. Mr. Pennant says, — " she resided at
her house, in what was then called Pall- Mall. It is the first good one
on the left hand of St. James's-square, as we enter from Pali-Mall. The
back-room on the ground floor was (within memory) entirely of looking
glass, as was said to have been the ceiling. Over the chimney was her
picture ; and that of her sister was in a third room." — London, p. 101.
At this house she died, in the year 1691, and was pompously interred
in the parish church of St. Martin's in the fields ; Dr. Tennison, then
vicar, and afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, preaching her funeral
sermon. This sermon, we learn, was shortly afterwards brought for
wards at court by Lord Jersey, to impede the doctor's preferment : but
Queen Mary, having heard the objection, answered — " What then V in
a sort of discomposure to which she was but little subject ; "I have
heard as much : this is a sign that that poor unfotunate woman died
penitent ; for, if I can read a man's heart through his looks, had not she
made a pious and Christian end, the doctor could never have been in
duced to speak well of her."— Life of Dr. Thomas Tennison, p. 20.
Cibber also says, he had been unquestionably informed that our fair
offender's repentance appeared in all the contrite symptoms of a Chris
tian sincerity. — Gibber's Apology, p. 451.

378 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
titles she could desire, untU he had an opportunity more
effectuaUy to provide for her, which she had pretended only
to decline, for fear of the scandal they might occasion, on her
being raised to a rank which would attract the pubhc notice ;
but since the return of the court, she had given herseh other
airs : sometimes she was for retiring from court, to appease
the continual uneasiness her presence gave the queen: at
other times it was to avoid temptations, by which she wished
to insinuate that her innocence was stiU preserved : in short,
the king's heart was continuaUy distracted by alarms, or op
pressed by humour and caprice.
As he could not for his hfe imagine what Miss Stewart
wished bim to do, or what she would be at, he thought upon
reforming his establishment of mistresses, to try whether
jealousy was not the real occasion of her uneasiness. It was for
this reason that, after having solemnly declared he would have
nothing more to say to the Duchess of Cleveland, since her
intrigue with ChurchUl, he discarded, without any exception,
aU the other mistresses which he had in various parts of the
town. The NeU Gwyns, the Misses Davis,* and the joyous
rain of singers and dancers in his majesty's theatre, were all
* Mrs. Mary Davis was an actress belonging to the duke's theatre.
She was, according to Downes, one of the four female performers who
boarded in Sir William Davenant's own house, and was on the stage as
early as 1664, her name being to be seen in The Stepmother, acted in that
year. She performed the character of Celia in The Rivals, altered by
Davenant from the Two Noble Kinsmen of Fletcher and Shakespeare,
in 1668 ; and, in singing several wild and mad songs, so charmed his
majesty, that she was from that time received into his favour, and had
,by him a daughter, Mary Tudor, born October, 1673; married in
August, 1687, to Francis Batcliff, Earl of Derwentwater. Burnet says,
iliss Davis did not keep her hold on the king long ; which may be
doubted, as her daughter was born four years after she was first noticed
by his majesty.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 379
dismissed, All these sacrifices were ineffectual : Miss Stewart
continued to torment, and almost to drive the king to dis
traction ; but his majesty soon after found out the real cause
of this coldness.
This discovery was owing to the officious Duchess of Cleve
land, who. ever since her disgrace, had raUed most bitterly
against Miss Stewart as the cause of it, and against the king's
weakness, who, for an inanimate idiot, had treated her with so
much indignity. As some of her grace's creatures were stiU
in the king's confidence, by their means she was informed of
the king's uneasiness, and that Miss Stewart's behaviour was
the occasion of it • and as soon as she had found the opportu
nity she had so long wished for, she went directly into the
king's cabinet, through the apartment of one of his pages called
Chiffinch. This way was not new to her.
The king was just returned from visiting Miss Stewart, in a
very Ul humour: the presence of the Duchess of Cleveland
surprised him, and did not in the least diminish it : she, per
ceiving this, accosted him in an ironical tone, and with a smUe
of indignation : " I hope," said she, " I may be allowed to pay
you my homage, although the angehc Stewart has forbid you
to see me at my own house. I wUl not make use of re
proaches and expostulations, which would disgrace myself: still
less wUl I endeavour to excuse frailties which nothing can
justify, since your constancy for me deprives me of aU defence,
considering I am the only person you have honoured with
your tenderness, who has made herseh unworthy of it by iU
conduct. I come now, therefore, with no other intent than to
comfort and to condole with you upon the affliction and grief
into which the coldness, or new-fashioned chastity of the in
human Stewart have reduced your majesty." These words
were attended by a fit of laughter, as unnatural and strained
2 n

380 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
as it was insulting and immoderate, which completed the
king's impatience : he had, indeed, expected that some bitter
jest would foUow this preamble ; but he did not suppose she
would have given herseh such blustering airs, considering the
terms they were then upon ; and, as he was preparing to an
swer her : " be not offended," said she, " that I take the liberty
of laughing at the gross manner in which you are imposed
upon . I cannot bear to see that such particular affectation
should make you the jest of your own court, and that you
should be ridiculed with such impunity. I know that the
affected Stuart has sent you away, under pretence of some in
disposition, or perhaps some scruple of conscience ; and I come
to acquaint you that the Duke of Richmond wiU soon be with
her, if he is not there aheady. I do not deshe you to believe
what I say, since it might be suggested either through resent
ment or envy: only foUow me to her apartment, either that,
no longer trusting calumny and mahce, you may honour her
with a just preference, if I accuse her falsely ; or, it my infor
mation be true, you may no longer be the dupe of a pretended
prude, who makes you act so unbecoming and ridiculous a
part." As she ended this speech, she took him by the hand, while
he was yet undecided, and pulled him away towards her
rival's apartments. Chiffinch* being in her interest, Miss
* The name of this person occurs very often in the secret history of
this reign Wood, in enumerating the kmg*n supper companions,
says, they meet " either in the lodgings of Lodovisa, Duchess of Ports
mouth, or in those of  Cheffing (Chiffinch), near the back stairs, or
in the apartment of Eleanor Quin (Gwyn), or in that of Baptist May ;
but he losing his credit,  Cheffing had the greatest trust among
them." Athenas Oxon., vol. ii., 1038. So great was the confidence re
posed in him, that he was the receiver of the secret pensions paid by the
court of France to the King of England.— See the Duke of Leeds' Let
ters, 1710, pp. 9, 17, 33.

THE KING SURPRISING MISS STEWART AND THE DUKE
OF RICHMOND.

Page 381.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 381
Stewart could have no warning of the visit ; and Babiani, who
owed aU to the Duchess of Cleveland, and who served her
admirably well upon this occasion, came and told her that the
Duke of Richmond had just gone into Miss Stewart's chamber.
It was in the middle of a httle gaUery, which, tlirough a
private door, led from the king's apartments to those of his
mistresses. The Duchess of Cleveland wished him good night,
as he entered her rival's chamber, and retired, in order to wait
the success of the adventure, of which Babiani, who attended
the king, was charged to come and give her an account.
It was near midnight : the king, in his way, met his mis
tress's chamber-maids, who respectfully opposed his entrance,
and in a very low voice, whispered his majesty that Miss
Stewart had been very Ul since he left her : but that, being
gone to bed, she was, God be thanked, in a very fine sleep.
" That I must see," said the king, pushing her back, who had
posted herself in his way. He found Miss Stewart in bed,
indeed, but far from being asleep : the Duke of Richmond was
seated at her pUlow, and in aU probability was less inclined
to sleep than herseh. The perplexity of the one party, and
the rage of the other, were such as may easUy be imagined
upon such a surprise. The king, who, of aU men, was one of
the most mUd and gentle, testified his resentment to the Duke
of Richmond in such terms as he had never before used. The
duke was speechless, and almost petrified : he saw his master
Chiffinch's more important duties are intimated in the beginning of a
satirical poem of the time, entitled, " Sir Edmondbury Godfrey's
Ghost." It happen'd, in the twilight of the day,
As England's monarch in his closet lay,
And Chiffinch stepp'd to fetch the female prey,
Ihe bloody shape of Godfrey did appear, &c.

382 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
and his king justly irritated. The first transports which rage
insphes on such occasions are dangerous. Miss Stewart's
window was very convenient for a sudden revenge, the
Thames flowing close beneath it: he cast his eyes upon
it ; and, seeing those of the king more incensed and fired with
indignation than he thought his nature capable of, he made a
profound bow, and rethed, without replying a single word to
the vast torrent of threats and menaces that were poured
upon him.
Miss Stewart, having a httle recovered from her first sur
prise,* instead of justifying herseh, began to talk in the most
extravagant manner, and said everything that was most capable
to inflame the king's passion and resentment ; that, if she were
not aUowed to receive visits from a man of the Duke of Rich
mond's rank, who came with honourable intentions, she was a
slave in a free country ; that she knew of no engagement that
could prevent her from disposing of her hand as she thought
proper ; but, however, if this was not permitted her in his
dominions, she did not beheve that there was any power on
earth that could hinder her from going over to France, and
throwing herseh into a convent, to enjoy there that tranquil
lity which was denied her in his court. The king, sometimes
furious with anger, sometimes relenting at her tears, arid some
times terrified at her menaces, was so greatly agitated, that he
knew not how to answer, either the nicety of a creature who
wanted to act the part of Lucretia under his own eye, or the
assurance with which she had the effrontery to reproach him.
In this suspense, love had almost enthely vanquished aU his
resentments, and had nearly induced him to throw himself
upon his knees, and entreat pardon for the injury he had done
* See Bishop Burnet's account of Miss Stewart's marriage, in his
History of His own Times, vol. i., p. 353.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 383
her, when she desired him to retire, and leave her in repose,
at least for the remainder of that night, without offending
those who had either accompanied him, or conducted him to
her apartments, by a longer visit. This impertinent request
provoked and irritated him to the highest degree : he went
out abruptly, vowing never to see her more, and passed the
most restless and uneasy night he had ever experienced since
his restoration.
The next day the Duke of Richmond received orders to quit
the court, and never more to appear before the king ; but it
seems he had not waited for those orders, having set out early
that morning for his country seat.
Miss Stewart, in order to obviate aU injurious constructions
that might be put upon the adventure of the preceding night,
went and threw herself at the queen's feet ; where, acting the
new part of an innocent Magdalen, she entreated her majesty's
forgiveness for all the sorrow and uneasiness she might have
already occasioned her. She told her majesty that a constant
and sincere repentance had induced her to contrive aU possible
means for retiring from court : that this reason had inclined
her to receive the Duke of Richmond's addresses, who had
courted her a long time ; but since this courtship had caused
Hs disgrace, and had hkewise raised a vast noise and dis
turbance, which perhaps might be turned to the prejudice of
her reputation, she conjured her majesty to take her under
her protection, and endeavour to obtain the king's permission
for her to rethe into a convent, to remove at once aU those
vexations and troubles her presence had innocently occasioned
at court. All this was accompanied with a proper deluge of
tears. It is a very agreeable spectacle to see a rival prostrate at
our feet, entreating pardon, and at the same time justifying

384 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
her conduct. The queen's heart not only relented, but she
mangled her own tears with those of Miss Stewart. After
having raised her up, and most tenderly embraced her, she
promised hei aU manner of favour and protection, either in
her marriage, or in any other course she thought fit to pursue,
and parted from her with the firm resolution to exert aU her
interest in her support • but, being a person of great judgment,
the reflections which she afterwards made, induced her to
change her opinion.
She knew that the king's disposition was not capable of an
obstinate constancy. She therefore judged that absence
would cure him, or that a new engagement would by degrees
entnely efface the remembrance of Miss Stewart , and that,
since she could not avoid having a rival, it was more desirable
she should be one who had given such eminent proofs of her
prudence and virtue. Besides, she flattered herseh that the
king would ever think himseh eternahy obhged to her, for
having opposed the retreat and marriage of a ghl, whom at
that time he loved to distraction This fine reasoning deter
mined her conduct. AU her industry was employed in per
suading Miss Stewart to abandon her schemes ; and what is
most extraordinary in this adventure, is, that, after having
prevaUed upon her to think no more either of the Duke of
Richmond, or of a nunnery, she charged herself with th*
office of reconciling these two lovers.
Indeed it would have been a thousand pities if her nego-
ciation had miscarried but she did not suffer this misfortune ;
for never were the king's addresses so eager and passionate as
after this peace, nor ever better received by the fair Stewart.
His majesty did not long enjoy the sweets of a reconcilia
tion, which brought him into the best good humour possible,
as we shaU see. AU Europe was in a profound peace, since

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT 385
the treaty of the Pyrenees : Spain flattered herseh she should
be able to recruit, by means of the new alliance she had con
tracted with the most formidable of her neighbours ; but
despaired of being able to support the shattered remains of a
declining monarchy, when she considered the age and infirmi
ties of her prince, or the weakness of his successor : France,
on the contrary, governed by a king indefatigable in business,
young vigUant, and ambitious of glory, wanted nothing but
inclination to aggrandize herseh.
It was about this time, that the king of France, not
willing to disturb the tranquillity of Europe, was persuaded
to alarm the coasts of Africa, by an attempt, which, if it had
even been crowned with success, would have produced httle
good ; but the king's fortune, ever faithful to his glory, has
since made it appear, by the miscarriage of the expedition of
Gigeri,* that such projects only as were planned by himseh
were worthy of his attention.
A short time after, the king of England, having resolved
also to explore the African coasts, fitted out a squadron for
an expedition to Guinea, which was to be commanded by
Prince Rupert. Those who, from theh own experience, had
some knowledge of the country, related strange and wonder
ful stories of the dangers attendant upon this expedition:
that they would have to fight not only the inhabitants of
* Gigeri is about forty leagues from Algiers. Till the year 1664 the
French had a factory there ; but then attempting to build a fort on the
sea-coast, to be a check upon the Arabs, they came down from the
mountains, beat the French out of Gigeri, and demolished their fort.
Sir Richard Fanshaw, in a letter to the deputy governor of Tangier,
dated 2nd December, 1664, N.S., says, " We have certain intelligence
that the French have lost Gigheria, with all they had there, and their
fleet come back, with the loss of one considerable ship uuon the rocks
near Marseilles."— Fanshaufs Letters, vol L p. 347.

386 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
Guinea, a hellish people, whose arrows were poisoned, and
who never gave theh prisoners better quarter than to devour
them, but that they must likewise endure heats that were in
supportable, and rains that were intolerable, every drop of
which was changed into a serpent : that, if they penetrated
farther into the country, they would be assaulted by monsters
a thousand times more hideous and destructive than aU the
beasts mentioned in the Revelations
But aU these reports were vain and ineffectual : for so far
from striking terror into those who were appointed to go upon
this expedition, it rather acted as an incentive to glory, upon
those who had no manner of business in it. Jermyn appeared
among the foremost of those; and, without reflecting that
the pretence of his indisposition had delayed the conclusion
of his marriage with Miss Jennings, he asked the duke's per
mission, and the king's consent to serve in it as a volunteer.
Some time before this, the infatuation which had imposed
upon the fah Jennings in his favour had begun to subside.
AU that now inclined her to this match were the advantages
of a settlement. The careless indolence of a lover, who
faintly paid his addresses to her, as it were from custom or
habit, disgusted her ; and the resolution he had taken, with
out consulting her, appeared so ridiculous in him, and so
injurious to herseh, that, from that moment, she resolved to
think no more of him. Her eyes being opened by degrees,
she saw the faUacy of the splendour, which had at first
deceived her; and the renowned Jermyn was received
according to his real merit when he came to acquaint her
with his heroical project. There appeared so much indiffer
ence and ease in the raUlery with which she complimented
him upon his voyage, that he was entirely disconcerted, and
so much the more so, as he had prepared all the arguments

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 387
he thought capable of consoling her, upon announcing to her
the fatal news of his departure. She told him, •' that no
thing could be more glorious for him, who had triumphed
over the hberty of so many persons in Europe, than to go
and extend his conquests in other parts of the world ; and
that she advised him to bring home with bim aU the female
captives he might make in Africa, in order to replace those
beauties whom his absence would bring to the grave."
Jermyn was highly displeased that she should be capable
of raiUery in the condition he supposed her reduced to ; but
he soon perceived she was in earnest : she told him, that she
considered this fareweU visit as his last, and desired him not
to think of making her any more before his departure.
Thus far everything went weU on her side : Jermyn was
not only confounded at having received his discharge in so
cavalier a manner ; but this very demonstration of her in
difference had revived, and even redoubled, aU the love and
affection he had formerly felt for her. Thus she had both
the pleasure of despising him, and of seeing him more en
tangled in the chains of love than he had ever been before.
This was not sufficient : she wished stiU farther, and very
unadvisedly, to strain her resentment.
Ovid's Epistles,* translated into English verse by the great
est wits at court, having lately been published, she wrote a
letter from a shepherdess in despair, addressed to the perfidious
Jermyn. She took the epistle of Ariadne to Theseus for her
model. The beginning of this letter contained, word for word,
the complaints and reproaches of that injured fah to the cruel
man by whom she had been abandoned. AU this was properly
adapted to the present times and chcumstances. It wa3 her
* This is the translation of Ovid's Epistles published by Mr. Dryden,
The second edition of it was printed in 1681. 2 x

388 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
design to have closed this piece with a description of the toUs,
perils, and monsters, that awaited him in Guinea, for which he
quitted a tender mistress, who was plunged into the abyss of
misery, and was overwhelmed with grief and despair ; but not
having had time to finish it, nor to get that which she had
written transcribed, in order to send it to him under a feigned
name, she inconsiderately put this fragment, written in her
own hand, into her pocket, and, stUl more giddUy, dropped it
in the middle of the court. Those who took it up, knowing
her writing, made several copies of it, which were circulated
aU over the town ; but her former conduct had so weU es
tabhshed the reputation of her virtue, that no person enter
tained the smaUest doubt but the chcumstances were exactly
as we have related them. Some time after, the Guinea expe
dition was laid aside for reasons that are universaUy known,
and Miss Jenning's subsequent proceedings fuUy justified her
letter; for, notwithstanding aU the efforts and attentions Jer
myn practised to regain her affections, she would never more
hear of him.
But he was not the only man who experienced the whimsi
cal fatahty, that seemed to dehght in disuniting hearts, in order
to engage them soon after to different objects. One would
have imagined that the God of Love, actuated by some new
caprice, had placed his empire under the dominion of Hymen,
and had, at the same time, blind-folded that God, in order to
cross-match most of the lovers whom we have been speaking of.
The fah Stewart married the Duke of Richmond ; the invin
cible Jermyn, a siUy country ghl ;* Lord Rochester, a melan
choly heiress ;-f- the sprightly Temple, the serious Lyttleton;
* Miss Gibbs, daughter of a gentleman in the county of Cambridge.
t Elizabeth, daughter of John Mallet, of Enmere, in the county of
Somerset.

MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 389
Talbot, without knowing why or wherefore, took to wife the
languishing Boynton ;* George HamUton, under more favour
able auspices, married the lovely Jennings ; and the Chevaher
de Grammont, as the reward of a constancy he had never be
fore known, and which he never afterwards practised, found
Hymen and Love united in his favour, and was at last blessed
with the possession of Miss HamUton.-|-
* After the deaths of Miss Boynton and of George Hamilton, Talbot
married Miss Jennings, and became afterwards Duke of Tyrconnel.
t " The famous Count Grammont was thought to be the original of
The Forced Marriage. This nobleman, during his stay at the court of
England, had made love to Miss Hamilton, but was coming away for
France without bringing matters to a proper conclusion. The young
lady's brothers pursued him, and came up with him near Dover, in order
to exchange some pistol-shot with him : They called out, ' Count Gram
mont, have you forgot nothing at London V ' Excuse me,' answered the
Count, guessing their errand, ' I forgot to marry your sister ; so lead
on, and let us finish that affair.' By the pleasantry of the answer, this
was the same Grammont who commanded at the siege of a place, the
governor of which capitulated after a short defence, and obtained an
easy capitulation. The governor then said to Monsieur Grammont,
' I'll tell you a secret— that the reason of my capitulation was, because
I was in want of powder.' Monsieur replied, ' And secret for secret —
the reason of my granting you such an easy capitulation was, because I
was in want of balL"— Biog. Gallica, voL i., p. 202.
Count Grammont and his lady left England in 1669. King Charles
in a letter to his sister, the Duchess of Orleans, dated 24th October, in
that year, says, " I writt to you yesterday, by the Compts de Gram
mont, but I beleeve this letter will come sooner to your handes ; for he
goes by the way of Diep, with his wife and family : and now that I
have named her, I cannot chuse but againe desire you to be kinde to
her ; for, besides the merrit her family has on both sides, she is as
good a creature as ever lived. I beleeve she will passe for a handsome
woman in France, though she has not yett, since her lying-inn, re
covered that good shape she had before, and I am affraide never will."
' — Dalrymple's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 26.
" The Count de Grammont fell dangerously ill in the year 1696 ; of
which the king (Louis XTV.) being informed, and knowing, besides,

39o MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT.
that he was inclined to libertinism, he was pleased to send the Marquis
of Dangeau to see how he did, and to advise him to think of God.
Hereupon Count de Grammont, turning towards his wife, who had ever
been a very devout lady, told her,Countess, if you don't look to it, Dangeau
will juggle you out of my conversion. Madame de l'Enclos having after
wards written to M. de St Evremond that Count de Grammont was re
covered, and turned devout, — I have learned, answered he to her, with
a greal deal of pleasure, that Count de Grammont has recovered his
former health, and acquired a new devotion. Hitherto I have been con
tented with being a plain honest man ; but I must do something more ;
and I only wait for your example to become a devotee. You live in a
country where people have wonderful advantages of saving their souls :
there vice is almost as opposite to the mode as to virtue; sinning passes for
ill-breeding, and shocks decency and good manners, as much as religion,
Formerly it was enough to be wicked ; now one must be a scoundrel
withal, to be damned in France. They who have not regard enough for
another life, are led to salvation by the consideration and duties of this."
-" But there is enough upon a subject in which the conversion of the
Count de Grammont has engaged me : I believe it to be sincere and
honest. It well becomes a man who is not young, to forget he has been
so."— Life of St. Evremond, by Des Marzeaux, p. 136 ; and St. Evre
mond's Works, vol. ii p. 431.

INDEX OF NAMES.

Anne of Austria, 71.
Arlington, Earl of, 165, 166.
 Countess of, 167.
Arran, Earl of, 108, 169, 191, 192,
204, 207.
Arscot, Due d', 77.
Bagot, Miss, 259, 263, 265.
Bardou, Miss, 250, 256.
Barker, Mrs., 275.
Barry, Mrs., 294.
Battevilie, Baron de, 32, 33.
BeUenden, Miss, 250, 256.
Bkgue, Miss, 142, 144, 145, 147,
149, 150, 154, 260.
Boynton, Miss, 259, 294, 335, 389.
Brice, Don Gregorio, 179.
Brinon, 20, 21, 22, 24.
Brisacier, 143, 153, 154, 260.
Brissac, Due de, 238, 239, 240.
Bristol, Earl of, 200.
Brook, Misses, 115, 201, 202.
Brounker, 310, 312, 313.
Buckingham, Duchess of, 360, 361.
 Duke of, 106, 160, 161, 358,
359, 360.
Bussi, 3, 201.

Cameran, Count, 27, 28, 29, 30.
Carlingford, Lord, 369, 370.
Carnegy. See Southesk.
Castlemaine, Countess of, 113, 130,
165, 168, 173, 184, 187, 188, 201,
206, 298, 302, 354, 356, 362, 367,
372, 375, 379, 381.
Charles II., 96, 97, 98, 99, 102.
Chesterfield, Countess of, 114, 167,
186, 189, 200, 203, 204, 205, 209,
212, 214, 224, 226, 229, 231, 236,
330.
 Earl of, 186, 189, 203, 205,
209, 214, 215, 217, 222, 228, 234,
235.
Chiffinch, 379, 380.
Churchill, Miss, 329, 332, 337, 338.
 Duke of Marlborough, 373,
374.
Clarendon, Earl of, 103, 104.
Cleveland. See Castlemaine.
Comminge, Mons. de, 171.
Conde, Prince de, 69, 70, 71, 73,
74, 78, 79, 86, 89, 179, 180, 182.
Cornwallis, Lord, 248.
Crofts, 208, 378.
Cromwell, Oliver, 93.

394

INDEX OF NAMES.

Davis, Mrs., 378.
Denham, Sir John, 202, 228.
 Lady, 203, 213, 225, 227,
228.
Dorset, Duke of, 222, 224, 375.
Dongan, 261.
Duncan, 149.
Etheridge, Sir George, 223, 224.
Falmouth, Earl of, 106, 159, 170,
171, 191, 193, 243, 265.
Feraulas, 344.
Feversham Earl of, 261.
Fielding, Miss, 259.
Fiesque, Countess, 124.
Flamarens, 241, 242, 250.
Fox, Sir Stephen, 248, 249.
Francisco, 204.
Gaboury, 85.
Garde, Miss de la, 80, 81, 86.
Gibbs, Miss, 388.
Gloucester, Duke of, 100.
Grammont, Marechal de, 179, 349.
Guise, Duke of, 151, 173, 196.
Gwyn, Nell, 300, 375, 376, 378.
Hall, Jacob, 131, 299.
Hamilton, Anthony. See Preface.
,  George, 109, 167, 186, 187,
188, 203, 206, 207, 208, 209, 211,
212, 214, 215, 216, 229, 237, 316,
317, 318, 364, 365, 366, 367, 368,
369, 389.
 James, 109, 364.
 Miss, 135, 139, 141, 143, 145,
150, 152, 157, 160, 184, 185, 226,
227, 242, 249, 295, 313, 317, 319,
321, 325, 327, 339, 343, 352, 363,

Henrietta Maria, Queen Dowager,
111, 117, 118.
Hobart, Miss, 259, 263, 264, 265,
271, 272, 273, 279, 280, 283,
284, 285, 287, 290, 330, 331,
332.
H6pital, Mademoiselle de 1', 352.
Howard, Henry, 158.
 Thomas, 132.
Humieres, Marechal de, 76, 78.
Hughes, Mrs., 324.
Hyde, Annie, Duchess of York.
107, 117, 173, 190, 194, 329.
 Mrs., 130.
Jennings, Miss, 265, 268, 297,
305, 309, 389.
Jermyn, 112, 132, 190, 193, 302,
388.
Jones, Earl of Ranelagh, 126.
Katherine, Queen Infanta of
Portugal, 101, 115, 116, 168, 360,
362, 363.
Killegrew, 191, 252, 255, 287, 288,
291, 293, 356, 359.
Kirk, Miss. See Warminster.
La Motte, 77.
Lely, Sir Peter, 226.
Leopold, Archduke, 73.
Levingston, Miss, 259.
L'Orme, Madame de, 238.
Louis XIII., 7.
 XIV., 89.
Lussan, Mons. de, 78, 79.
Lyttleton, Sir Charles, 267, 277.
Madame Royale, 38.
Marshall, Mrs., 275.
Matta, 39, 57, 62.

INDEX OF NAMES.

395

Mazarin, Cardinal, 71, 86.
 Peter, 86.
Melo, Francisco de, 116.
Menneville, Madame, 91.
Middlesex. See Dorset
Middleton, 114, 126, 127, 134, 135,
139, 141, 156, 157, 184.
Monmouth, Duke of, 353, 355.
 Duchess of, 335.
Montagu, Edward, 336.
 Ralph, 134, 336.
Montmorency, 80.
Motte, Houdancourt, Mademoiselle
de,91.
Muskerry, Lord, 143, 152, 321,
325.
 Lady, 141, 143, 147, 325, 326,
327.
Newcastle, Duchess of, 152.
Olonne, Mademoiselle, 124.
Orange, Princess of, 101, 1 13.
Orleans, Madame, Duchess of, 350.
Ormond, Duke of, 104, 246.
Ossory, Earl of, 109.
Oxford, Earl of, 275, 276.
Panetra, Donna, 116.
Poussatin, 175, 181, 182.
Pralin, Du Plessis, 8, 85.
Price, Miss, 149, 150, 154, 259, 260,
261, 262, 263, 279, 288, 292, 296,
302, 306, 308, 311.
Progers, Edward, 258.
Rawlings, Giles, 134.
Richelieu, Cardinal, 7.
Richmond, Duke of, 251, 252, 380,
381, 383, 384, 388.
 Duchess of. See Stewart.

Robarts, Lady, 198, 199, 200.
 Lord, 198, 199.
Rochester, Earl of, 222, 223, 260,
264, 270, 277, 290, 303, 388.
Rupert, Prince, 146, '323, 324.
Russell, John, 156, 183, 184.
 William, 156.
St. Albans, Earl of, 106, 111.
St. Chamont, Mme. de, 338, 350.
St. Evremond, 120, 122, 125, 157,
160, 217, 390.
St. Germain, Madame de, 40, 42,
49, 50, 53.
Saucourt, 348.
Sedley, Sir Charles, 222, 224.
Senantes, Madame de, 40, 50.
 Marquis of, 52.
Shrewsbury, Countess of, 114, 128,
131, 132, 134, 224, 245, 359.
Silvius, Sir Gabriel, 257.
Southesk, Lady, 195, 243.
Stewart, Miss, 128, 160, 208, 270,
356, 379, 388.
Suze, Countess de la, 241.
Sydney, Robert, 110, 332.
Sylva, Don Pedro, 116.
Taaffe, Lord, 250, 252, 254.
Talbot, Duke of Tyrconnel, 191,
192, 196, 243, 244, 246, 295,
389.
 Peter, 245.
 Thomas, 245.
Tambonneau, 241, 242, 243.
Tanes, Count de, 38.
Taurauv^dez, 116.
Temple, Miss, 265, 270, 278, 288.
Termes, 141, 146, 150, 344.
Thanet, Lord, 146.
Thomas, Prince, 8.

396

INDEX OF NAMES.

Toulongeon, 168, 159, 390.
Turenne, Marechal de, 32, 74, 76.
Vendome, Caesar de, 18.
Villeroy, 85.
Warmestre, Miss, 127,' 135, 256.
Wells, Miss, 257, 258, 259, 267.

Wetenhall, Mrs., 313, 314, 315,
316, 317, 319, 325, 326, 327,
364.
Yarborough, Sir Thomas, 142,
260.
York, James, Duke of, 76, 102,
155, 189, 195, 199, 203, 267, 327.

THE END.

YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

3 9002 04077 8020