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 all

those who think themselves superior to the rest of mankind, or whether

she designed, by this pastime, to divert the king's attention from the

commerce which she held with Jermyn. She was not satisfied with

appearing without any degree of uneasiness at a preference which all

the court began to remark: she even affected to make Miss Stewart her

favourite, and invited her to all the entertainments she made for the

king; and, in confidence of her own charms, with the greatest

indiscretion, she often kept her to sleep. The king, who seldom

neglected to visit the countess before she rose, seldom failed likewise

to find Miss Stewart in bed with her. The most indifferent objects have

charms in a new attachment: however, the imprudent countess was not

jealous of this rival's appearing with her, in such a situation, being

confident, that whenever she thought fit, she could triumph over all the

advantages which these opportunities could afford Miss Stewart; but she

was quite mistaken.

The Chevalier de Grammont took notice of this conduct, without being able

to comprehend it; but, as he was attentive to the inclinations of the

king, he began to make his court to him, by enhancing the merit of this

new mistress. Her figure was more showy than 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 the generality of women: she was very

graceful, danced well, and spoke French better than her mother tongue:

she was well bred, and possessed, in perfection, that air of dress which

is so much admired, and which cannot be attained, unless it be taken when

young, in France. While her charms were gaining ground in the king's

heart, the Countess of Castlemaine amused herself in the gratification of

all her caprices.

Mrs. Hyde was one of the first of the beauties who were prejudiced with

a blind prepossession in favour of Jermyn she had just married a man whom

she loved: by this marriage she became sister-in-law to the duchess,

brilliant by her own native lustre, and full of pleasantry and wit.

However, she was of opinion, that so long as she was not talked of on

account of Jermyn, all her other advantages would avail nothing for her

glory: it was, therefore, to receive this finishing stroke, that she

resolved to throw herself into his arms.

She was of a middle size, had a skin of a dazzling whiteness, fine hands,

and a foot surprisingly beautiful, even in England: long custom had given

such a languishing tenderness to her looks, that she never opened her

eyes but like a Chinese; and, when she ogled, one would have thought she

was doing something else.

Jermyn accepted of her at first; but, being soon puzzled what to do with

her, he thought it best to sacrifice her to Lady Castlemaine. The

sacrifice was far from being displeasing to her; it was much to her glory

to have carried off Jermyn from so many competitors; but this was of no

consequence in the end.

Jacob Hall (the famous rope-dancer) was at that time in vogue in London;

his strength and agility charmed in public, even to a wish to know what

he was in private; for he appeared, in his tumbling dress, to be quite of

a different make, and to have limbs very different from the fortunate

Jermyn.

["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 ropedancer, Mr. Pope introduced the following lines

into his "Sober Advice from Horace:"

"What push'd poor E--s on th' imperial whore?

'Twas but to be where Charles had been before,

The fatal steel unjustly was apply'd,

When not his lust offended, but his pride

Too hard a penance for defeated sin,

Himself shut out, and Jacob Hall let in."]

The tumbler did not deceive Lady Castlemaine's expectations, if report

may be believed; and as was intimated in many a song, much more to the

honour of the rope-dancer than of the countess; but she despised all

these rumours, and only appeared still 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 herself; this was the Countess of Shrewsbury.

The Earl of Arran, who had been one of her first admirers, was not one of

the last to desert her; this beauty, less famous for her conquests than

for the misfortunes she occasioned, placed her greatest merits in being

more capricious than any other. As no person could boast of being the

only one in her favour; so no person could complain of having been ill

received.

Jermyn was displeased that she had made no advances to him, without

considering that she had no leisure for it; his pride was offended; but

the attempt which he made to take her from the rest of her lovers was

very ill-advised.

Thomas Howard, brother to the Earl of Carlisle, was one of them; there

was not a braver, nor a more genteel man in England; and though he was

of a modest demeanour, and his manners appeared gentle and pacific, no

person was more spirited nor more passionate. Lady Shrewsbury,

inconsiderately returning the first ogles of the invincible Jermyn, did

not at all make herself more agreeable to Howard; that, however, she paid

little attention to; yet, as she designed to keep fair with him, she

consented to accept an entertainment which he had often proposed, and

which she durst no longer refuse. A place of amusement, called Spring

Garden,--was fixed upon for the scene of this entertainment.

As soon as the party was settled, Jermyn was privately informed of it.

Howard had a company in the regiment of guards, and one of the soldiers

of his company played pretty well on the bagpipes; this soldier was

therefore at the entertainment. Jermyn was at the garden, as by chance;

and, puffed up with his former successes, he trusted to his victorious

air for accomplishing this last enterprise; he no sooner appeared on the

walks, than her ladyship showed herself upon the balcony.

I know not how she stood affected to her hero; but Howard did not fancy

him much; this did not prevent his coming up stairs upon the first sign

she made to him; and not content with acting the petty tyrant, at an

entertainment not made for himself, no sooner had he gained the soft

looks of the fair one, than he exhausted all his common-place, and all

his stock of low irony, in railing at the entertainment, and ridiculing

the music.

[Spring Garden: They stay there so long 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, newts' tongues, spacious 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.]

Howard possessed but little raillery, and still less patience; three

times was the banquet on the point of being stained with blood; but three

times did he suppress his natural impetuosity, in order to satisfy his

resentment elsewhere with greater freedom.

Jermyn, without paying the least attention to his ill-humour, pursued his

point, continued talking to Lady Shrewsbury, and did not leave her until

the repast was ended.

He went to bed, proud of this triumph, and was awakened next morning by a

challenge. He took for his second Giles Rawlings, a man of intrigue, and

a deep player. Howard took Dillon, who was dexterous and brave, much of

a gentleman, and, unfortunately, an intimate friend to Rawlings.

In this duel fortune did not side with the votaries of love poor Rawlings

was left stone dead; and Jermyn, having received three wounds, was

carried to his uncle's, with very little signs of life.

While the report of this event engaged the courtiers according to their

several interests, the Chevalier de Grammont was informed by Jones, his

friend, his confidant, and his rival, that there was another gentleman

very attentive to Mrs. Middleton: this was Montagu, no very dangerous

rival on account of his person, but very much to be feared for his

assiduity, the acuteness of his wit, and for some other talents which are

of importance, when a man is once permitted to display them.

There needed not half so much to bring into action all the Chevalier's

vivacity, in point of competition: vexation awakened in him whatever

expedients the desire of revenge, malice, and experience, could suggest,

for troubling the designs of a rival, and tormenting a mistress. 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 all his resentment against Mrs.

Middleton, and all his attachment to Miss Warmestre: no longer was he

inconstant: no longer were his wishes fluctuating: this object fixed them

all; and, of all his former habits, none remained, except uneasiness and

jealousy.

Here his first care was to please; but he very plainly saw, that to

succeed he must act quite in a different manner to that which he had been

accustomed to.

The family of the Hamiltons, being very numerous, lived in a large and

commodious house, near the court: the Duke of Ormond's family was

continually with them; and here persons of the greatest distinction in

London, constantly met: the Chevalier de Grammont was here received in a

manner agreeable to his merit and quality, and was astonished that he had

spent so much time in other places; for, after having made this

acquaintance, he was desirous of no other.

All the world agreed that Miss Hamilton was worthy of the most ardent and

sincere affection: nobody could boast a nobler birth, nothing was more

charming than her person.

[Elizabeth, sister of the author of these Memoirs, and daughter of

Sir George Hamilton, fourth son of James, the first Earl of

Abercorn, by Mary, third daughter of Thomas, Viscount Thurles,

eldest son of Walter, eleventh Earl of Ormond, and sister to James,

the first Duke of Ormond. She married Philibert, Count of Grammont,

the hero of these Memoirs, by whom she had two daughters: Claude

Charlotte, married, 3rd April, 1694, to Henry, Earl of Stafford; and

another, who became superior, or abbess, of the Canonesses in

Lorraine.]

CHAPTER SEVENTH.

HE FALLS IN LOVE WITH MISS HAMILTON--VARIOUS ADVENTURES

AT THE BALL IN THE QUEEN'S DRAWING-ROOM--CURIOUS VOYAGE

OF HIS VALET-DE-CHAMBRE TO AND FROM PARIS.

The Chevalier de Grammont, never satisfied in his amours, was fortunate

without being beloved, 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 experienced his powers of pleasing.

He went in search of her to the queen's drawing-room, where there was a

ball; there she was; but fortunately for her, Miss Hamilton was there

likewise. It had so happened, that of all the beautiful women at Court,

this was the lady whom he had least seen, and whom he had heard most

commended; this, therefore, was the first time that he had a close view

of her, and he soon found that he had seen nothing at court before this

instant; he asked her some questions, to which she replied; as long as

she was dancing, his eyes were fixed upon her; and from this time he no

longer resented Mrs. Middleton's conduct. Miss Hamilton was at the happy

age when the charms of the fair sex begin to bloom; she had the finest

shape, the loveliest neck, and most beautiful arms in the world; she was

majestic and graceful in all her movements; and she was the original

after which all the ladies copied in their taste and air of dress. Her

forehead was open, white, and smooth; her hair was well set, and fell

with ease into that natural order which it is so difficult to imitate.

Her complexion was possessed of a certain freshness, not to be equalled

by borrowed colours: her eyes were not large, but they were lively, and

capable of expressing whatever she pleased: her mouth was full of graces,

and her contour uncommonly perfect; nor was her nose, which was small,

delicate, and turned up, the least ornament of so lovely a face. In

fine, her air, her carriage, and the numberless graces dispersed over her

whole person, made the Chevalier de Grammont not doubt but that she was

possessed of every other qualification. Her mind was a proper companion

for such a form: she did not endeavour to shine in conversation by those

sprightly sallies which only puzzle; and with still greater care she

avoided that affected solemnity in her discourse, which produces

stupidity; but, without any eagerness to talk, she just said what she

ought, and no more. She had an admirable discernment in distinguishing

between solid and false wit; and far from making an ostentatious display

of her abilities, she was reserved, though very just in her decisions:

her sentiments were always noble, and even lofty to the highest extent,

when there was occasion; nevertheless, she was less prepossessed with her

own merit than is usually the case with those who have so much. Formed,

as we have described, she could not fail of commanding love; but so far

was she from courting it, that she was scrupulously nice with respect to

those whose merit might entitle them to form any pretensions to her.

The more the Chevalier de Grammont was convinced of these truths,

the more did he 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 presents, which so easily made their way in

his former method of courtship, were no longer proper in the mode which,

for the future, he was obliged to pursue.

He had an old valet-de-chambre, called Termes, a bold thief, and a still

more impudent liar: he used to send this man from London every week, on

the commissions we have before mentioned; but after the disgrace of Mrs.

Middleton, and the adventure of Miss Warmestre, Mr. Termes was only

employed in bringing his master's clothes from Paris, and he did not

always acquit himself with the greatest fidelity in that employment, as

will appear hereafter.

The queen was a woman of sense, and used all her endeavours to please the

king, by that kind obliging behaviour which her affection made natural to

her: she was particularly attentive in promoting every sort of pleasure

and amusement especially such as she could be present at herself.

She had contrived, for this purpose, a splendid masquerade, where those,

whom she appointed to dance, had to represent different nations; she

allowed some time for preparation, during which we may suppose, the

tailors, the mantua makers, and embroiderers, were not idle: nor were the

beauties, who were to be there, less anxiously employed; however, Miss

Hamilton found time enough to invent two or three little tricks, in a

conjuncture so favourable, for turning into ridicule the vain fools of

the court. There were two who were very eminently such: the one was Lady

Muskerry, who had married her cousin-german; and the other a maid of

honour to the Duchess, called Blague.

The first, whose husband most assuredly never married her for beauty,

was made like the generality of rich heiresses, to whom just nature seems

sparing of her gifts, in proportion as they are loaded with those of

fortune: she had the shape of a woman big with child, without being so;

but had a very good reason for limping; for, of two legs uncommonly

short, one was much shorter than the other. A face suitable to this

description 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 appearance 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

attractions she placed herself in ambuscade to surprise unwary hearts;

but she might have done so in vain, had it not been for the arrival of

the Marquis de Brisacier. Heaven seemed to have made them for each

other: he had in his person and manners every requisite to dazzle a

creature of her character he talked eternally, without saying anything,

and in his dress exceeded the most extravagant fashions. Miss Blague

believed that all this finery was on her account; and the Marquis

believed that her long eyelashes had never taken aim at any but himself:

everybody perceived their inclination for each other; but they had only

conversed by mute interpreters, when Miss Hamilton took it into her head

to intermeddle in their affairs.

She was willing to do everything in order, and therefore began with her

cousin Muskerry, on account of her rank. Her two darling foibles were

dress and dancing. Magnificence of dress was intolerable with her

figure; and though her dancing was still more insupportable, she never

missed a ball at court: and the queen had so much complaisance for the

public, as always to make her dance; but it was impossible to give her a

part in an entertainment so important and splendid as this masquerade:

however, she was dying with impatience for the orders she expected.

It was in consequence of this impatience, of which Miss Hamilton was

informed, that she founded the design of diverting herself at the expense

of this silly woman. The queen sent notes to those whom she appointed to

be present, and described the manner in which they were to be dressed.

Miss Hamilton wrote a note exactly in the same manner to Lady Muskerry,

with directions for her to be dressed in the Babylonian fashion.

She assembled her counsel to advise about the means of sending it: this

cabinet was composed of one of her brothers and a sister, who were glad

to divert themselves at the expense of those who deserved it. After

having consulted some time, they at last resolved upon a mode of

conveying it into her own hands. Lord Muskerry was just going out, when

she received it: he was a man of honour, rather serious, very severe, and

a mortal enemy to ridicule. His wife's deformity was not so intolerable

to him, as the ridiculous figure she made upon all occasions. He thought

that he was safe in the present case, not believing that the queen would

spoil her masquerade by naming Lady Muskerry as one of the dancers

nevertheless, as he was acquainted with the passion his wife had to

expose herself in public, by her dress and dancing, he had just been

advising her very seriously to content herself with being a spectator

of this entertainment, even though the queen should have the cruelty

to engage her in it: he then took the liberty to show her what little

similarity there was between her figure, and that of persons to whom

dancing and magnificence in dress were allowable. His sermon concluded

at last, by an express prohibition to solicit a place at this

entertainment, 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

desired; and as soon as he was gone out, her design was to go and throw

herself at her Majesty's feet to demand justice. She was in this very

disposition when she received the billet: three times did she kiss it;

and without regarding her husband's injunctions, she immediately got into

her coach in order to get information of the merchants who traded to the

Levant, in what manner the ladies of quality dressed in Babylon.

The plot laid for Miss Blague was of a different kind: she had such faith

in her charms, and was so confident of their effects, that she could

believe anything. Brisacier, whom she looked upon as desperately

smitten, had wit, which he set off with common-place talk, and with

little sonnets: he sung out of tune most methodically, and was

continually exerting one or other of these happy talents: the Duke of

Buckingham did all he could to spoil him, by the praises he bestowed both

upon his voice and upon his wit.

Miss Blague, who hardly understood a word of French, regulated herself

upon the Duke's authority, in admiring the one and the other. It was

remarked, that all the words which he sung to her were in praise of fair

women, and that always taking this to herself, she cast down her eyes in

acknowledgment and consciousness. It was upon these observations they

resolved to make a jest of her, the first opportunity.

While these little projects were forming, the king, who always wished to

oblige the Chevalier de Grammont, asked him, if he would make one at the

masquerade, on condition of being Miss Hamilton's partner? He did not

pretend to dance sufficiently well for an occasion like the present; yet

he was far from refusing the offer: "Sire," said he, "of all the favours

you have been pleased to show me, since my arrival, I feel this more

sensibly than any other; and to convince you of my gratitude, I promise

you all the good offices in my power with Miss Stewart." He said this,

because they had just given her an apartment separate from the rest of

the maids of honour, which made the courtiers begin to pay respect to

her. The king was very well pleased at this pleasantry, and having

thanked him for so necessary an offer: "Monsieur le Chevalier," said he,

"in what style do you intend to dress yourself for the ball? I leave you

the choice of all countries." "If so," said the Chevalier, "I will dress

after the French manner, in order to disguise myself; for they already do

me the honour to take me for an Englishman in your city of London. Had

it not been for this, I should have wished to have appeared as a Roman;

but for fear of embroiling myself with Prince Rupert, who so warmly

espouses the interests of Alexander against Lord Thanet, who declares

himself for Caesar, I dare no longer think of assuming the hero:

nevertheless, though I may dance awkwardly, yet, by observing the tune,

and with a little alertness, I hope to come off pretty well; besides,

Miss Hamilton will take care that too much attention shall not be paid to

me. As for my dress, I shall send Termes off tomorrow 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 ball; and that was the day that Miss Hamilton and her little society

had fixed for the execution of their project.

Martial gloves were then very much in fashion: she had by chance several

pairs of them: she sent one to Miss Blague, accompanied with four yards

of yellow riband, the palest she could find, to which she added this

note:

"You were the other day more charming than all the fair women in the

world: you looked yesterday still more fair than you did the day before:

if you go on, what will become of my heart? But it is a long time since

that has been a prey to your pretty little young wild boar's eyes. Shall

you be at the masquerade to-morrow? But can there be any charms at an

entertainment, at which you are not present? It does not signify: I

shall know you in whatever disguise you may be: but I shall be better

informed of my fate, by the present I send you: you will wear knots of

this riband in your hair; and these gloves will kiss the most beautiful

hands in the universe."

The Memoirs of Count Grammont — Volume 03 · 第 2 / 4 段