Book: The Memoirs of Count Grammont, Volume 2
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Anthony Hamilton >> The Memoirs of Count Grammont, Volume 2
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, VOLUME 2.
By Anthony Hamilton
EDITED, WITH NOTES, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT
CHAPTER FOURTH.
HIS ARRIVAL AT THE COURT OF TURIN,
AND HOW HE SPENT HIS TIME THERE.
Military 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 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 totally 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., rendered her little court
the most agreeable in the world. She inherited such of her father's
virtues as compose the proper ornament of her sex; and with regard to
what are termed the foibles of great souls, her highness had in no wise
degenerated.
The Count de Tanes was her prime minister. It was not difficult to
conduct affairs of state during his administration. No complaints were
alleged against him; and the princess, satisfied with his conduct
herself, was, above all, glad to have her choice approved by her whole
court, where people lived nearly according to the manners and customs of
ancient chivalry.
The ladies had each a professed lover, for fashion's sake, besides
volunteers, whose numbers were unlimited. The declared admirers wore
their mistresses' liveries, their arms, and sometimes even took their
names. Their office was, never to quit them in public, and never to
approach them in private; to be their squires upon all occasions, and,
in jousts and tournaments, to adorn their lances, their housings, and
their coats, with the cyphers and the colours of their dulcineas.
Matta was far from being averse to gallantry; 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 Chevalier de Grammont, he was obliged to follow 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 Chevalier de Grammont chose Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain, and told
Matta to offer his services to Madame de Senantes. Matta consented,
though he liked the other better; but the Chevalier de Grammont persuaded
him that Madame de Senantes was more suitable for him. As he had reaped
advantage from the Chevalier's talents in the first projects they had
formed, he resolved to follow his instructions in love, as he had done
his advice in play.
Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain was in the bloom of youth; her eyes were
small, but very bright and sparkling, and, like her hair, were black; her
complexion was lively 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 well
shaped; she trusted to Providence, and used no art to set off those
graces which she had received from nature; but, notwithstanding her
negligence in the embellishment of her charms, there was something so
lively in her person, that the Chevalier de Grammont was caught at first
sight; her wit and humour corresponded with her other qualities, being
quite easy and perfectly charming; she was all mirth, all life, all
complaisance and politeness, and all was natural, and always the same
without any variation.
The Marchioness de Senantes was esteemed fair, and she might have
enjoyed, if she had pleased, the reputation of having red hair, had she
not rather chosen to conform to the taste of the age in which she lived
than to follow that of the ancients: she had all the 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 in chastity to
spare. He piqued himself 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
well pleased to see attentions paid to his wife, provided more were paid
to him.
As soon as our adventurers had declared themselves, the Chevalier de
Grammont arrayed himself in green habiliments, and dressed Matta in blue,
these being the favourite colours of their new mistresses. They entered
immediately upon duty: the Chevalier learned and practised all the
ceremonies of this species of gallantry, as if he always had been
accustomed to them; but Matta commonly forgot one half, and was not over
perfect in practising the other. He never could remember that his office
was to promote the glory, and not the interest, of his mistress.
The Duchess of Savoy gave the very next day an entertainment at La
Venerie, where all the ladies were invited.
The Chevalier was so agreeable and diverting, that he made his mistress
almost die with laughing. Matta, in leading his lady to the coach,
squeezed her hand, and at their return from the promenade he begged
of her to pity his sufferings. Thus was proceeding rather too
precipitately, and although Madame de Senantes was not destitute of the
natural compassion of her sex, she nevertheless was shocked at the
familiarity of this treatment; she thought herself obliged to show some
degree of resentment, and pulling away her hand, which he had pressed
with still greater fervency upon this declaration, she went up to the
royal apartments without even looking at her new lover. Matta, never
thinking that he had offended her, suffered her to go, and went in search
of some company to sup with 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 fatigue, of love, and went to bed completely
satisfied that he had performed his part to perfection.
During all this time the Chevalier de Grammont acquitted himself towards
Mademoiselle de Saint Germain with universal 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 solitary 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 know what he
would have done with me if I had been obliging enough to listen to his
most humble solicitations."
She then told him in what manner his friend had treated her the very
second day of their acquaintance.
The Chevalier could not forbear laughing at it: he told her Matta was
rather too unceremonious, but yet she would like him better as their
intimacy more improved, and for her consolation he assured her that he
would have spoken in the same manner to her Royal Highness herself;
however, he would not fail to give him a severe reprimand. He went the
next morning into his room for that purpose; but Matta had gone out early
in the morning on a shooting party, in which he had been engaged by his
supper companions in the 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 all
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
wife, the Swiss had received his orders, and had almost been beaten for
receiving the present which had been left. The partridges, however, were
immediately sent back, and Matta, without examining into the cause, was
glad to have them again. He went to court without ever changing his
clothes, or in the least considering he ought not to appear there without
his lady's colours. He found her becomingly dressed; her eyes appeared
to him more than usually sparkling, and her whole person altogether
divine. He began from that day to be much pleased with himself for his
complaisance to the Chevalier de Grammont; however, he could not help
remarking that she looked but coldly upon him. This appeared to him a
very extraordinary return for his services, and, imagining that she was
unmindful of her weighty obligations to him, he entered into conversation
with her, and severely reprimanded her for having sent back his
partridges with so much indifference.
She did not understand what he meant; and highly offended that he did not
apologize, after the reprimand which she concluded 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 attentions, you treated me as
if I had been your humble servant for a thousand years; the first time
that I gave you my hand you squeezed it as violently as 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 gallant would have done, no sooner did a hare start from
her form, than you immediately galloped full speed after her; having
regaled yourself, during the promenade, by taking snuff, without ever
deigning to bestow a thought on me, the only proof you gave me, on your
return, that you recollected me, was by soliciting me to surrender my
reputation in terms polite 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 been dreaming of, as well as of all the rest."
The Chevalier de Grammont now advanced, to the interruption of this
whimsical dialogue. Matta was rebuked for his forwardness, and his
friend took abundant pains to convince him that his conduct bordered more
upon insolence than familiarity. Matta endeavoured to exculpate himself,
but succeeded ill. His mistress took compassion upon him, and consented
to admit his excuses, for the manner, rather than his repentance for the
fact, and declared 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 great 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 relieve 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 well that she must require an implicit conformity
to the established rule of decorum, when she had to deal with such a
character; and the Chevalier de Grammont, after this sort of
reconciliation, went to look after his own affair with Mademoiselle de
St. Germain.
His concern was not the offspring of mere good nature, nay, it was the
reverse; for no sooner did he perceive that the Marchioness looked with
an eye of 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
little St. Germain.
In the mean time, in order to maintain that authority which he had
usurped over the conduct of his friend, he, that very evening,
notwithstanding what had been already said, reprimanded him for presuming
to appear at court in his 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 Senantes, 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 partridges. "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 nonsensical whimsies: my life on it, in one fortnight your
equal in foppery and folly will not be found throughout the confines of
Turin; but, to reply to your questions, I did not call upon Monsieur de
Senantes, because I had nothing to do with him, and because he is of a
species of animals which I dislike, and always shall dislike: as for you,
you appear quite charmed with being decked out in green ribands, with
writing letters to your mistress, and filling your pockets with citrons,
pistachios, and such sort of stuff, with which you are always cramming
the poor girl's mouth, in spite of her teeth: you hope to succeed by
chanting ditties composed in the days of Corisande and of Henry IV.,
which you will swear yourself have made upon her: happy in practising the
ceremonials of gallantry, you have no ambition for the essentials. Very
well: every one has a particular way of acting, as well as a particular
taste: your's is to trifle in love; and, provided you can make
Mademoiselle 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, if one
sometimes leaves off trifling, to come to the point: however, if the
Marchioness is not of this way of thinking, she may e'en provide herself
elsewhere; for I can assure her, that I shall not long act the part of
her squire."
This was an unnecessary menace; for the Marchioness in reality liked him
very well, was nearly of the same way of thinking herself, and wished for
nothing more than to put his gallantry to the test. But Matta proceeded
upon a wrong plan; he had conceived such an aversion for her husband,
that he could not prevail upon himself to make the smallest advance
towards his good graces. He was given to understand that he ought to
begin by endeavouring to lull the dragon to sleep, before he could gain
possession of the treasure; but this was all to no purpose, though, at
the same time, he could never see his mistress but in public. This made
him impatient, and as he was lamenting his ill-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 call upon you, at least, three or four
times, without ever being blessed with a sight of you." "I generally
sleep at home," replied she, laughing; "but I must tell you, that you
will never find me there, if you do not first pay a visit to the Marquis:
I am not mistress of the house. I do not tell you," continued she, "that
he is a man whose acquaintance any one would very impatiently covet
for his conversation: on the contrary, I agree that his humour is
fantastical, and his manners not of the pleasing cast; but there is
nothing so savage and inhuman, which a little 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
little advice, which you may accommodate, if you please, to your own
case."
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 Wry 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?
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 exquisite a monster for me. Why,
what a plaguey odd ceremony do you require of us in this country, if we
cannot pay our compliments to the wife 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, if he had deserved it, she did not think it worth while to
enter into any farther explanation; since he refused to cede, for her
salve, so trilling an objection: from this instant she resolved to have
done with him.
The Chevalier de Grammont had taken leave of his mistress nearly at the
same time: the ardour of his pursuit was extinguished. It was not that
Mademoiselle 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 thousand charms, and ever rose from it with
additional beauty the phrase of increasing in beauty as she increased in
years seemed to have been purposely made for her. The Chevalier could
not deny these truths, but yet he could not find his account in them: a
little less merit, with a little less discretion, would have been more
agreeable. He perceived that she attended to him with pleasure, that
she was diverted with his stories as much as he could wish, and that
she received his billets and presents without scruple; but then he
also discovered that she did not wish to proceed any farther. He had
exhausted every species of address upon her, and all 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 deliver the little Saint
Germain into his hands, if the little Saint Germain had herself been
willing: but alas! she was not inclined. It was in vain he told her the
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 unremitting tenderness,
unwearied attachment, and inviolable secrecy, would prove more worthy of
them than himself. He then told her no husband was ever able to convey
a proper idea of the sweets of love, and that nothing could be more
different than the passionate fondness of a lover, always tender, always
affectionate, yet always respectful, and the careless indifference of a
husband.
Mademoiselle de Saint Germain, not wishing to take the matter in a
serious light, that she might not be forced to resent it, answered, that
since it was generally the custom in her country to marry, she thought it
was right to conform to it, without entering into the knowledge of those
distinctions, and those marvellous particulars, which she did not very
well understand, and of which she did not wish to have any further
explanation; that she had submitted to listen to him this one time, but
desired he would never speak to her again in the same strain, since such
sort of conversation was neither entertaining to her, nor could be
serviceable to him. Though no one was ever more facetious than
Mademoiselle de Saint Germain, she yet knew how to assume a very serious
air, when ever occasion required it. The Chevalier 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 complaisance; and
his seeming contempt for her erased every favourable impression which
she had once entertained for him. While she was in this humour, the
Chevalier told her that her resentment was just; he exaggerated the loss
which his friend had sustained; he told her that her charms were a
thousand times superior to those of the little Saint Germain, and
requested that favour for himself 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 other his friend, which was not very
difficult: Matta was not at all suspicious: and the stupid Senantes,
towards whom the Chevalier had already behaved as Matta had refused to
do, could not be easy without him. This was much more than was wanted;
for as soon as ever the Chevalier was with the Marchioness, her husband
immediately joined them out of politeness; and on no account would have
left them alone together, for fear they should grow weary of each other
without him.
Matta, who all this time was entirely ignorant that he was disgraced,
continued to serve his mistress in his own way. She had agreed with the
Chevalier de Grammont, that to all appearance everything should be
carried on as before; so that the court always believed that the
Marchioness only thought of Matta, and that the Chevalier was entirely
devoted to Mademoiselle de Saint Germain.
There were very frequently little lotteries for trinkets: the Chevalier
de Grammont always tried his fortune, and was sometimes fortunate; and
under pretence of the prizes he had won, he bought a thousand things
which he indiscreetly gave to the Marchioness, and which she still more
indiscreetly accepted: the little Saint Germain very seldom received any
thing. There are meddling whisperers everywhere: remarks were made upon
these proceedings; and the same person that made them communicated them
likewise to Mademoiselle 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 ill of the Marchioness. On the other hand, Matta was
asked if he was not old enough to make his own presents himself to the
Marchioness de Senantes, without sending them by the Chevalier de
Grammont. This roused him; for of himself, he would never have perceived
it: his suspicions, however, were but slight, and he was willing to have
them removed. "I must confess," said he to the Chevalier de Grammont,
"that they make love here quite in a new style; a man serves here without
reward: he addresses himself to the husband when he is in love with the
wife, and makes presents to another man's mistress, to get into the good
graces of his own. The Marchioness is much obliged to you for-----"