Their majesties arrive at Whitehall.--My Lady Castlemaine a
spectator.--Young Mr. Crofts.--New arrivals at court.--The Hamilton
family.--The Chevalier de Grammont.--Mrs. Middleton and Miss Kirke.--At
the queen's ball--La belle Hamilton.--The queen mother at Somerset
House.--The Duke of Monmouth's marriage.--Fair Frances Stuart.--Those
who court her favour.--The king's passion.
On the 23rd of August, 1662, their majesties journeyed from Hampton
Court to the palace of Whitehall by water. The gay and goodly procession
formed on that occasion has been described as "the most magnificent
triumph that ever floated on, the Thames." First came barges belonging
to city companies, beginning with the mercers and grocers, most of them
being attended with a pageant, and all of them richly adorned as
became their affection and loyalty. Then followed barges of statesmen,
nobility, and courtiers, with their retinues, brave in numbers, gay in
colours, and attended by bands of music. And finally came the king and
queen, seated side by side in a galley of antique shape, all draped
with crimson damask, bearing a canopy of cloth of gold, supported by
Corinthian pillars, wreathed with ribbons, and festooned with garlands
of fragrant flowers.
The whole city was abroad, watchful of their approach; the Thames was
covered with boats to the number of ten thousand; and the banks were
crowded with spectators beyond reckoning. On this fair August day the
sky had not a single cloud to mar its universal blue; the sun shone
gloriously bright, turning the river to sheets of gleaming gold: whilst
the air was filled with roaring of cannon, strains of music, and hearty
shouts of a loyal multitude.
Mr. Samuel Pepys, though he offered as much as eight shillings for a
boat to attend him that day, could not obtain one, and was therefore
obliged to view this gallant procession from the roof of the royal
banqueting hall, which commanded a glorious view of the Thames. But
what pleased his erratic fancy best on this occasion was, not the great
spectacle he had taken such trouble to survey, but a sight of my Lady
Castlemaine, who stood over against him "upon a piece of Whitehall."
The worthy clerk of the Admiralty "glutted" himself with looking on her;
"but methought it was strange," says he, "to see her lord and her upon
the same place walking up and down without taking notice of one another,
only at first entry he put off his hat, and she made him a very civil
salute, but afterwards took no notice of one another; but both of them
now and then would take their child, which the nurse held in her arms,
and dandle it. One thing more: there happened a scaffold below to fall,
and we feared some hurt, but there was none; but she of all the great
ladies only ran down among the common rabble to see what hurt was done,
and did take care of a child that received some little hurt,
which methought was so noble. Anon there came one there booted and
spurred, that she talked long with. And by-and-by, she being in her
haire, she put on her hat, which was but an ordinary one, to keep the
wind off. But methinks it became her mightily, as everything else do."
It was notable the countess did not accompany her majesty in the
procession to Whitehall, as one of her attendants; but in fact she
had not obtained the position sought for, though she enjoyed all the
privileges pertaining to such an appointment. "Everybody takes her to
be of the bedchamber," the lord chancellor writes to the Duke of Ormond,
"for she is always there, and goes abrode in the coach. But the queen
tells me that the king promised her, on condition she would use her as
she doth others, that she should never live in court; yet lodgings I
hear she hath." Lodgings the countess certainly had provided for her in
that block of the palace of Whitehall, separated from the main buildings
by the old roadway running between Westminster and the city.
A few days after their majesties' arrival at Whitehall, the queen mother
returned to town, and established her court at Somerset House, which had
been prepared for her future abode. She had arrived in England before
the king and queen left Hampton Court, and had taken up her residence
at Greenwich Palace. The avowed object of her visit was to congratulate
them upon their marriage. Charles and his bride therefore took barge to
Greenwich, one bright July day, followed by a brilliant and illustrious
train, that they might wait upon her majesty. And she, being made aware
of their approach, met them at the portal of the palace. There Catherine
would have gone down upon her knees to this gracious lady--the survivor
of great sorrows--but she took the young queen in her arms, and calling
her beloved daughter, kissed her many times. Then she greeted her sons
Charles and James, likewise the Duchess of York, and led them to the
presence-chamber, followed by the whole court. And presently when
Catherine would, through her interpreter, have expressed her gratitude
and affection, the elder queen besought her to lay aside all ceremony,
for she "should never have come to England again except for the pleasure
of seeing her, to love her as her daughter, and serve her as her queen."
At these sweet words the young wife, now in the first days of her
grief, was almost overcome by a sense of thankfulness, and could scarce
restrain her tears; but she answered bravely, "Believe me, madam, that
in love and obedience neither the king nor any of your children shall
exceed me."
The court of the merry monarch and that of the queen mother being now
settled in town, a period of vast brilliancy ensued, during which great
festivity and much scandal obtained, by reason of intrigues in which the
king and his friends indulged. Whitehall, the scene of so much gaiety
and gallantry, was a palace by no means befitting the luxurious Charles.
It consisted of a series of irregular houses built for different
purposes at various periods; these contained upwards of two thousand
rooms, most of which were small, and many of which were without doors.
The buildings were intersected by grassy squares, where fountains
played, statues were grouped, and dials shadowed the passing hour. At
hand stood St. James's Park, with its fair meadows and leafy trees;
close by flowed the placid Thames, bearing heavily laden lighters and
innumerable barges. Attached to these dwellings, and forming part of
the palace, stood the great banquet hall, erected from designs by Inigo
Jones for James I. Here audiences to ambassadors, state balls, and
great banquets were held. The ceiling was painted by Rubens, and was,
moreover, handsomely moulded and richly gilt. Above the entrance-door
stood a statue of Charles I., "whose majestic mien delighted the
spectator;" Whilst close by one of the windows were the ineradicable
stains of blood, marking the spot near which he had been beheaded.
Now in the train of the queen mother there had travelled from France
"a most pretty sparke of about fourteen years," whom Mr. Pepys plainly
terms "the king's bastard," but who was known to the court as young
Mr. Crofts. This little gentleman was son of Lucy Walters, "a brown,
beautiful, bold creature," who had the distinction of being first
mistress to the merry monarch. That he was his offspring the king
entertained no doubt, though others did; inasmuch as young Mr. Crofts
grew to resemble, "even to the wart on his face," Colonel Robert Sidney,
whose paramour Lucy Walters had been a brief while before his majesty
began an intrigue with her. Soon after the boy's birth that beautiful
woman abandoned herself to pleasures, in which the king had no
participation. He therefore parted from her; had her son placed under
the guardianship of Lord Crofts, whose name he bore, and educated by the
Peres de l'Oratoire at Paris. The while he was continually at the court
of the queen mother, who regarded him as her grandson, and who, by the
king's command, now brought him into England. The beauty of his face
and grace of his figure could not be exceeded, whilst his manner was
as winning as his air was noble. Moreover, his accomplishments were
numerous; he danced to perfection, sang with sweetness, rode with skill;
and so gallant was his nature that he became at this early age, as
Hamilton affirms, "the universal terror of husbands and lovers."
The king betrayed the greatest affection for him, and took exceeding
pride in being father of such a brave and comely youth, at which my Lady
Castlemaine was both wrathful and jealous, fearing he would avert the
royal favour from her own offspring; but these feelings she afterwards
overcame, as will be duly shown. His majesty speedily showered honours
upon him, allotted him a suite of apartments in the royal palace of
Whitehall, appointed him a retinue befitting the heir apparent, created
him Duke of Orkney and of Monmouth, and installed him a knight of the
garter.
But, before this had been accomplished, there arrived in town some
personages whose names it will be necessary to mention here, the figure
they made at court being considerable. These were Sir George Hamilton
and his family, and Philibert, Chevalier de Grammont. Sir George was
fourth son of James, Earl of Abercorn, and of Mary, sister to James,
first Duke of Ormond. Sir George had proved himself a loyal man and
a brave during the late civil war, and had on the murder of his royal
master sought safety in France, from which country he, in the second
year of the restoration, returned, accompanied by a large family; the
women of which were fair, the men fearless. The Hamiltons being close
kin to the Ormond great intimacy existed between them; to facilitate
which they lived not far apart--the duke residing in Ormond Yard, St.
James's Square, and the Hamiltons occupying a spacious residence in King
Street. James Hamilton, Sir George's eldest son, was remarkable for the
symmetry of his figure, elegance of his manner, and costliness of
his dress. Moreover, he possessed a taste shaped to pleasure, and a
disposition inclined to gallantry, which commended him so strongly to
the king's favour, that he was made groom of the bedchamber and colonel
of a regiment.
His brother George was scarcely less handsome in appearance or less
agreeable in manner. Another brother, Anthony, best remembered as the
writer of Grammont's memoirs, was likewise liberally endowed by nature.
Elizabeth, commonly called "la belle Hamilton," shared in the largest
degree the hereditary gifts of grace and beauty pertaining to this
distinguished family. At her introduction to the court of Charles II.
she was in the bloom of youth and zenith of loveliness. The portrait
of her which her brother Anthony has set before the world for its
admiration is delicate in its colours, and finished in its details. "Her
forehead," he writes, "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
lovely, 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. 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."
Now, about the same time the Hamiltons arrived at court, there likewise
appeared at Whitehall one whose fame as a wit, and whose reputation as
a gallant, had preceded him. This was the celebrated Chevalier de
Grammont, whose father was supposed to be son of Henry the Great of
France. The chevalier had been destined by his mother for the church,
the good soul being anxious he should lead the life of a saint; but the
youth was desirous of joining the army, and following the career of a
soldier. Being remarkable for ingenuity, he conceived a plan by which
he might gratify his mother's wishes and satisfy his own desires at the
same time. He therefore accepted the abbacy his brother procured for
him; but on appearing at court to return thanks for his preferment,
comported himself with a military air. Furthermore, his dress was
combined of the habit and bands pertaining to an ecclesiastic, and the
buskins and spurs belonging to a soldier. Such an amalgamation had
never before been witnessed, and caused general attention; the court
was amazed at his daring, but Richelieu was amused by his boldness.
His brother regarded his appearance in the dual character of priest and
soldier as a freak, and on his return home asked him gravely to which
profession he meant to attach himself. The youth answered he was
resolved "to renounce the church for the salvation of his soul," upon
condition that he retained his beneficed abbacy. It may be added, he
kept this resolution.
A soldier he therefore became, and subsequently a courtier. His valour
in war and luck in gambling won him the admiration of the camp; whilst
his ardour in love and genius for intrigue gained him the esteem of
the court, but finally lost him the favour of his king. For attaching
himself to one of the maids of honour, Mademoiselle La Motte
Houdancourt, whom his most Christian Majesty Louis XIV. had already
honoured with his regard, Grammont was banished from the French court.
Accordingly, in the second year of the merry monarch's reign he
presented himself at Whitehall, and was received by Charles with
a graciousness that served to obliterate the memory of his late
misfortune. Nor were the courtiers less warm in their greetings than
his majesty. The men hailed him as an agreeable companion; the ladies
intimated he need not wholly abandon those tender diversions for which
he had shown such natural talent and received such high reputation at
the court of Louis XIV. He therefore promptly attached himself to the
king, whose parties he invariably attended, and whose pleasures he
continually devised; made friends with the most distinguished nobles,
whom he charmed by the grace of his manner and extravagance of
his entertainments; and took early opportunities of proving to the
satisfaction of many of the fairer sex that his character as a gallant
had by no means been exaggerated by report.
Amongst those to whom he paid especial attention were Mrs. Middleton, a
woman of fashion, and Miss Kirk, a maid of honour, to whom Hamilton,
in his memoirs of Grammont, gives the fictitious name of Warmestre.
The former was at this time in her seventeenth summer, and had been two
years a wife. Her exquisitely fair complexion, light auburn hair, and
dark hazel eyes constituted her a remarkably beautiful woman. Miss Kirk
was of a different type of loveliness, inasmuch as her skin was brown,
her eyes dark, and her complexion brilliant. As Mrs. Middleton was at
this time but little known at court, Grammont found some difficulty in
obtaining an introduction to her as promptly as he desired; but feeling
anxious to make her acquaintance, and being no laggard in love, he
without hesitation applied to her porter for admittance, and took one of
her lovers into his confidence. This latter gallant rejoiced in the name
of Jones, and subsequently became Earl of Ranelagh. In the fulness of
his heart towards one who experienced a fellow feeling, he resolved
to aid Grammont in gaining the lady's favours. This generosity being
prompted by the fact that the chevalier would rid him of a rival whom
he feared, and at the same time relieve him of an expense he could
ill afford, the lady having certain notions of magnificence which her
husband's income was unable to sustain.
Mrs. Middleton received the chevalier with good grace; but he found
her more ready to receive the presents he offered, than to grant the
privileges he required. Miss Kirk, on the other hand, was not only
flattered by his attentions, but was willing to use every means in her
power to preserve a continuance of his friendship; Therefore out of
gratitude for graces received from one of the ladies, and in expectation
of favours desired from the other, Grammont made them the handsomest
presents. Perfumed gloves, pocket looking-glasses, apricot paste,
came every week from Paris for their benefit; whilst more substantial
offerings in the shape of jewellery, diamonds, and guineas were procured
for them in London, all of which they made no hesitation to accept.
It happened one night, whilst Grammont was yet in pursuit of Mrs.
Middleton, that the queen gave a ball. In hope of winning her husband's
affection, by studying his pleasures and suiting herself to his ways,
her majesty had become a changed woman. She now professed a passion
for dancing, wore decollete costumes, and strove to surpass those
surrounding her in her desire for gaiety. Accordingly her balls were the
most brilliant spectacles the court had yet witnessed; she taking care
to assemble the fairest women of the day, and the most distinguished
men. Now amongst the latter was the Chevalier de Grammont; and amidst
the former, Mrs. Middleton and Miss Hamilton.
Of all the court beauties, "la belle Hamilton" was one of whom Grammont
had seen least and heard most; but that which had been told him of her
charms seemed, now that he beheld her, wholly inadequate to express
her loveliness. Therefore, his eyes followed her alone, as her graceful
figure glided in the dance adown the ball-room, lighted with a thousand
tapers, and brilliant with every type of beauty. And when presently she
rested, it was with an unusual flutter at his heart that this gallant,
heretofore so daring in love, sought her company, addressed her, and
listened with strange pleasure to the music of her voice. From that
night he courted Mrs. Middleton no more, but devoted himself to "la
belle Hamilton," who subsequently became his wife.
Meanwhile, the merry monarch behaved as if he had no higher purpose in
life than that of following his pleasures. "The king is as decomposed
[dissipated] as ever," the lord chancellor writes to the Duke of Ormond,
in a letter preserved in the Bodleian library, "and looks as little
after his business; which breaks my heart, and makes me and other of
your friends weary of our lives. He seeks for his satisfaction and
delight in other company, which do not love him so well as you and
I do." His days were spent in pursuing love, feasting sumptuously,
interchanging wit, and enjoying all that seemed good to the senses.
Pepys, who never fails to make mention of the court when actual
experience or friendly gossip enables him, throws many pleasant lights
upon the ways of the monarch and his courtiers.
For instance, he tells us that one Lord's day--the same on which this
excellent man had been to Whitehall chapel, and heard a sermon by the
Dean of Ely on returning to the old ways, and, moreover, a most tuneful
anthem sung by Captain Cooke, with symphonies between--whom should he
meet but the great chirurgeon, Mr. Pierce, who carried him to Somerset
House, and into the queen mother's presence-chamber. And there, on the
left hand of Henrietta Maria, sat the young queen, whom Mr. Pepys
had never seen before, and now thought that "though she be not very
charming, yet she hath a good, modest, and innocent look, which is
pleasing." Here, likewise, he saw the king's mistress, and the young
Duke of Monmouth, "who, I perceive," Pepys continues, "do hang much upon
my Lady Castlemaine, and is always with her; and I hear the queenes,
both of them, are mighty kind to him. By-and-by in comes the king, and
anon the duke and his duchesse; so that, they being all together, was
such a sight as I never could almost have happened to see with so much
ease and leisure. They staid till it was dark, and then went away; the
king and his queene, and my Lady Castlemaine and young Crofts, in one
coach, and the rest in other coaches. Here were great stores of great
ladies. The king and queen were very merry; and he would have made the
queene mother believe that the queene was with child, and said that she
said so. And the young queene answered, 'You lye,' which was the first
English word that I ever heard her say, which made the king good sport."
Others besides Mr. Pepys had begun to notice that the young Duke of
Monmouth hung much upon the Countess of Castlemaine, and that her
ladyship lavished caresses upon him. Whether this was to provoke the
uneasiness of his majesty, who she hoped might find employment for
the lad elsewhere, or to express her genuine affection for him, it
is impossible to say. However, the duke being come to an age when the
endearments of such a woman might have undesired effects upon him, the
king resolved to remove him from her influence, and at the same time
secure his fortune by marriage.
He therefore selected a bride for him, in the person of Lady Anne Scott,
a young gentlewoman of virtue and excellence, who was only child of
Francis, Earl of Buccleugh, and the greatest heiress in Great Britain.
Their nuptials were celebrated on the 20th of April, 1663, the
bridegroom at this time not having reached his fifteenth birthday,
whilst the bride was younger by a year. The duke on his marriage assumed
his wife's family name, Scott; and some years later--in 1673--both were
created Duke and Duchess of Buccleugh. From this union the family now
bearing that title has descended. A great supper was given at Whitehall
on the marriage-night, and for many days there were stately festivities
held to celebrate the event with becoming magnificence.
Now at one of the court balls held at this time, the woman of all others
who attracted most attention and gained universal admiration was Frances
Stuart, maid of honour to Queen Catherine. She was only daughter of
a gallant gentleman, one Walter Stuart, and grand-daughter of Lord
Blantyre. Her family had suffered sore loss in the cause of Charles I.,
by reason of which, like many others, it sought refuge in France. This
young gentlewoman was therefore bred in that country, and was, moreover,
attached to the court of the queen mother, in whose suite she travelled
into England. Her beauty was sufficient to attract the attention of
Louis XIV., who, loath to lose so fair an ornament from his court,
requested her mother would permit her to remain, saying, he "loved her
not as a mistress, but as one that would marry as well as any lady in
France."
No doubt Mrs. Stuart understood the motives of his majesty's interested
kindness, of which, however, she declined availing herself, and
therefore departed with her daughter for England. At the time of her
appearance at Whitehall, Frances Stuart was in her fifteenth year. Even
in a court distinguished by the beauty of women, her loveliness was
declared unsurpassed. Her features were regular and refined, her
complexion fair as alabaster, her hair bright and luxuriant, her eyes of
violet hue; moreover, her figure being tall, straight, and shapely,
her movements possessed an air of exquisite grace. An exact idea of
her lineaments may be gained unto this day, from the fact that Philip
Rotier, the medallist, who loved her true, represented her likeness in
the face of Britannia on the reverse of coins; and so faithful was
the likeness, we are assured, that no one who had ever seen her could
mistake who had sat as model of the figure.
Soon after her arrival in England, she was appointed one of the maids of
honour to Queen Catherine, and as such was present at all festivities of
the court. Now, at one of the great balls given in honour of the Duke of
Monmouth's nuptials, the fair Frances Stuart appeared in the full lustre
of her charms. Her beauty, her grace, and her youth completely eclipsed
the more showy gifts of my Lady Castlemaine, who on this occasion looked
pale and thin, she being in the commencement of another pregnancy,
"which the king was pleased to place to his own account." The merry
monarch had before this time been attracted by the fair maid of honour,
but now it was evident his heart had found a new object of admiration
in her surpassing beauty. Henceforth he boldly made love to her. The
countess was not much disturbed by this, for she possessed great faith
in her own charms and implicit belief in her power over the king.
Besides, she had sufficient knowledge of mankind to comprehend that to
offer opposition in pursuit of love is the most certain method to
foster its growth. She therefore resolved to seek Miss Stuart's society,
cultivate her friendship, and constantly bring her into contact with his
majesty. This would not only prove to the satisfaction of the court she
had no fear of losing her sovereignty over the monarch, but, by keeping
him engaged with the maid of honour, would likewise divert his attention
from an intrigue the countess was then carrying on with Henry Jermyn.
Accordingly, she made overtures of friendship to Miss Stuart, invited
her to private parties, and appeared continually with her in public.
Concerning these ladies and the merry monarch, Pepys narrates a strange
story which Captain Ferrers told him as they "walked finely" in the
park. This was, that at an entertainment given by my Lady Castlemaine,
towards the end of which his majesty played at being married with fair
Frances Stuart, "with ring and all other ceremonies of Church service,
and ribbands, and a sack posset [A drink composed of milk, wine, and
spices.] in bed, and flinging the stocking. My Lady Castlemaine looked
on the while, evincing neither anger nor jealousy, but entering into
the diversion with great spirit." Nor was this the only indiscretion of
which she was culpable, for, in the full confidence of her charms, she
frequently kept Miss Stuart to stay with her. "The king," says Hamilton,
"who seldom neglected to visit the countess before she rose, seldom
failed likewise to find Miss Stuart 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 Stuart."
No doubt Lady Castlemaine's imprudences arose from knowledge that Miss
Stuart was devoid of tact, and incapable of turning opportunities to her
own advantage in the king's regard. For though the maid of honour was
richly endowed with beauty, she was wholly devoid of wit. She was not
only a child in years, but likewise in behaviour. She laughed at every
remark made her, delighted in playing blind man's buff, and was never
more happy than when building castles of cards. At this latter amusement
she continually employed herself whilst the deepest play was taking
place in her apartments; being always attended by groups of courtiers,
who were either attracted by the charm of her beauty, or were eager to
make court through her favour. As she sat upon the floor, intent on her
favourite occupation, they on their knees handed her cards, traced out
designs for her, or built elaborate structures rivalling her own.
Amongst those who attended her in this manner was the gay, graceful, and
profligate Duke of Buckingham, who became enamoured of her loveliness.
Not only did he raise the most wonderful of card mansions for her
delight, but having a good voice, and she possessing a passion for
music, he invented songs and sung them to pleasure her. Moreover, he
told her the wittiest stories, turned the courtiers into the greatest
ridicule for her entertainment, and made her acquainted with the most
diverting scandals. Finally, he professed his ardent love for her; but
at this the fair Stuart either felt, or feigned, intense astonishment,
and so repulsed him that he abandoned the pursuit of an amour over which
he had wasted so much time, and thenceforth deprived himself of her
company.
His attentions were, however, soon replaced by those of the Earl of
Arlington, a lord of the bedchamber, and a man of grave address and
great ambition. Owing to this latter trait his lordship was desirous
of winning the good graces of Miss Stuart in the present, in hopes
of governing his majesty in the future, when she became the king's
mistress. But these sage and provident intentions of his were speedily
overturned, for early in the course of their acquaintance, when he had
commenced to tell her a story, his manner so forcibly reminded her of
Buckingham's mimicry of him, that she burst out laughing in the earl's
face. This being utterly uncalled for by the circumstances of his tale,
and still less by the manner of its narration, Lord Arlington, who
was serious, punctilious, and proud, became enraged, abruptly left her
presence, and abandoned his schemes of governing the king through so
frivolous a medium.
A man who had better chances of success in winning this beautiful girl
was George Hamilton, whose name has been already mentioned. It was not,
however, his graceful person, or elegant manner, but his performance of
a trick which gained her attention. It happened one night that an Irish
peer, old Lord Carlingford, was diverting her by showing how she might
hold a burning candle in her mouth a considerable time without its
being extinguished. This was a source of uncommon delight to her;
seeing which, George Hamilton thought he would give her still further
entertainment. For being furnished by nature with a wide mouth, he
placed within it two lighted candles, and walked three times round the
room without extinguishing them, whilst the fair Stuart clapped her
pretty hands in delight, and shouted aloud with laughter.
A man who could accomplish such a feat was worthy of becoming a
favourite. She at once admitted him to terms of familiarity; and he had
a hundred chances of paying her the attentions he greatly desired, and
which she freely accepted. Grammont, foreseeing that Hamilton would
incur the royal displeasure if his love for Miss Stuart became known to
the king, besought him to abandon his addresses; but this advice did not
at first sound pleasant to the lover's ears. "Since the court has been
in the country," said he, "I have had a hundred opportunities of seeing
her, which I had not before. You know that the dishabille of the bath is
a great convenience for those ladies, who, strictly adhering to all
the rules of decorum, are yet desirous to display all their charms and
attractions. Miss Stuart is so fully acquainted with the advantages she
possesses over all other women, that it is hardly possible to praise
any lady at court for a well-turned arm, and a fine leg but she is ever
ready to dispute the point by demonstration; and I really believe that,
with a little address, it would not be difficult to induce her to strip
naked, without ever reflecting upon what she was doing. After all, a man
must be very insensible to remain unconcerned and unmoved on such happy
occasions."
Hamilton was therefore not willing to renounce Miss Stuart, but upon
Grammont showing that attentions paid the lady would certainly provoke
the king's anger, he resolved on sacrificing love to interest, and
abandoning the company of the fair maid of honour for evermore. The
truth was, his majesty loved her exceedingly, as was indeed evident, for
he constantly sought her presence, talked to her at the drawing-rooms
as if no one else were by, and kissed her "to the observation of all the
world." But though she allowed Charles such liberties, she refused to
become his mistress, notwithstanding the splendid settlements and high
titles with which the monarch engaged to reward the sacrifice of her
virtue. And so, though a king, it was not given him to be obeyed in all.
And though generally loved for his easy ways and gracious manners, he
was continually harassed by his mistresses, reproved by his chancellor,
and ridiculed by his courtiers. Indeed, they now spoke of him in his
absence as "Old Rowley;" the reason of which is given by Richardson.
"There was an old goat," writes he, "in the privy garden, that they had
given this name to; a rank lecherous devil, that everybody knew and
used to stroke, because he was good-humoured and familiar; and so they
applied this name to the king."