Book: The Memoirs of Count Grammont, Volume 4
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Anthony Hamilton >> The Memoirs of Count Grammont, Volume 4
MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT, VOLUME 4.
By Anthony Hamilton
EDITED, WITH NOTES, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT
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.
"Sir," said the Chevalier de Grammont, "the Prince de Conde besieged
Lerida: the place in itself was nothing; but Don Gregorio Brice who
defended it, was something. He was one of those Spaniards of the old
stamp, as valiant as the Cid, as proud as all the Guzmans put together,
and more gallant than all the Abencerrages of 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 Fribourg, to
insult both the place and the governor, ordered the 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 all in high spirits: our violins were playing
soft airs, and we were comfortably regaling ourselves: God knows how we
were joking about the poor governor and his fortifications, both of which
we promised ourselves to take in less than twenty-four hours. This was
going on in the trenches, when we heard an ominous cry from the ramparts,
repeated two or three times, of, 'Alerte on the walls!' This cry was
followed by a discharge of cannon and musketry, and this discharge by a
vigorous sally, which, after having filled up the trenches, pursued us as
far as our grand guard.
"The next day Gregorio Brice sent by a trumpet a present of ice and fruit
to the Prince de Conde, humbly beseeching his highness to excuse his not
returning the serenade which he was pleased to favour him with, as
unfortunately he had no violins; but that if the music of last night was
not disagreeable 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 walls,' we were sure
of a sally, that cleared our trenches, destroyed our works, and killed
the best of our officers and soldiers. The prince was so piqued at it,
that, contrary to the opinion of the general officers, he obstinately
persisted in carrying on a siege which was like to ruin his army, and
which he was at last forced to quit in a hurry.
"As our troops were retiring, Don Gregorio, far from giving himself those
airs which governors generally do on such occasions, made no other sally,
than sending a respectful compliment to the prince. Signor Brice set out
not long after for Madrid, to give an account of his conduct, and to
receive the recompense he had merited. Your majesty perhaps will be
desirous to know what reception poor Brice met with, after having
performed the most brilliant action the Spaniards could boast of in all
the war--he was confined by the inquisition."
"How!" said the Queen Dowager, "confined by the inquisition for his
services!" "Not altogether for his services," said the Chevalier; "but
without any regard to his services, he was treated in the manner I have
mentioned for a little affair of gallantry, which I shall relate to the
King presently.
"The campaign of Catalonia being thus ended, we were returning home, not
overloaded with laurels; but as the Prince de Conde 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 all over France, in order to prevent others more severe; however, we
gained nothing by it, for notwithstanding we treated ourselves freely in
our own ballads, others were composed in Paris in which we were ten times
more severely handled. At last we arrived at Perpignan upon a holy-day:
a company of Catalans, who were dancing in the middle of the street, out
of respect to the prince came to dance under his windows: Monsieur
Poussatin, in a little black jacket, danced in the middle of this
company, as if he was really mad. I immediately 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 inquired who he was: 'A poor priest, at your service, my lord,'
said he: 'my name is Poussatin, and Bearn is my native country: I was
going into Catalonia to serve in the infantry, for, God be praised, I can
march very well on foot; but since the war is happily concluded, if your
lordship pleases to take me into your service, I would follow you
everywhere, and serve you faithfully.' 'Monsieur Poussatin,' said I, 'my
lordship has no great occasion for a chaplain; but since you are so well
disposed towards me, I will take you into my service.'
"The Prince de Conde, who was present at this conversation, was overjoyed
at my having a chaplain. As poor Poussatin was in a very tattered
condition, I had no time to provide him with a proper habit at Perpignan;
but giving him a spare livery of one of the Marshal de Grammont's
servants, I made him get up behind the prince's coach, who was like to
die with laughing every time he looked at poor Poussatin's uncanonical
mien in a yellow livery.
"As soon as we arrived in Paris, the story was told to the Queen, who at
first expressed some surprise at it: this, however, did not prevent her
from wishing to see my chaplain dance; for in Spain it is not altogether
so strange to see ecclesiastics dance, as to see them in livery.
"Poussatin performed wonders before the Queen; but as he danced with
great sprightliness, she could not bear the odour which his violent
motions diffused around her room the ladies likewise began to pray for
relief; for he had almost entirely got the better of all the perfumes and
essences with which they were fortified: Poussatin, nevertheless, retired
with a great deal of applause, and some louis d'or.
"Some time afterwards I procured a small benefice in the country for my
chaplain, and I have since been informed that Poussatin preached with the
same ease in his village 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 livery: the treatment of
Gregorio Brice offended her far more; and being desirous to justify the
court of Spain, with respect to so cruel a proceeding: "Chevalier de
Grammont," said she, "what heresy did Governor Brice wish to introduce
into the state? What crime against religion was he charged with, that he
was confined in the inquisition?" "Madam," said he, "the history is not
very proper to be related before your majesty: it was a little amorous
frolic, ill-timed indeed; but poor Brice meant no harm: a school-boy
would not have been whipped for such a fault, in the most severe college
in France; as it was only for giving some proofs of his affection to a
young Spanish fair one, who had fixed her eyes upon him on a solemn
occasion."
The King desired to know the particulars of the adventure; and the
Chevalier 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 tell
a story; but it was very disagreeable to differ with him, either in
competition, or in raillery: it is true that at that time there were few
persons at the English court who had merited his indignation: Russell was
sometimes the subject of his ridicule, but he treated him far more
tenderly than he usually did a rival.
This Russell was one of the most furious dancers in all England, I mean,
for country dances: he had a collection of two or three hundred in print,
all of which he danced at sight; and to prove that he was not an old man,
he sometimes danced until he was almost exhausted: his mode of dancing
was like that of his clothes, for they both had been out of fashion full
twenty years.
The Chevalier de Grammont was very sensible that he was very much in
love; but though he saw very well that it only rendered him more
ridiculous, yet he felt some concern at the information he received,
of his intention of demanding Miss Hamilton in marriage; but his concern
did not last long. Russell, being upon the point of setting out on a
journey, thought it was proper to acquaint his mistress with his
intentions before his departure. The Chevalier de Grammont was a great
obstacle to the interview, he was desirous of obtaining of her; but being
one day sent for, to go and play at Lady Castlemaine's, Russell seized
the opportunity, and addressing himself to Miss Hamilton, with less
embarrassment than is usual on such occasions, he made his declaration to
her in the following manner: "I am 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 all
probability, cannot continue much longer, as I have had it for these last
twenty years: if you look upon me as worthy of the happiness of belonging
to you, I shall propose it to your father, to whom I did not think it
right to apply before I was acquainted with your sentiments: my nephew
William is at present entirely ignorant of my intention; but I believe he
will not be sorry for it, though he will thereby see himself deprived of
a pretty considerable estate; for he has great affection for me, and
besides, he has a pleasure in paying his respects to you since he has
perceived my attachment. I am very much pleased that he should make his
court to me, by the attention he pays to you; for he did nothing but
squander his money upon that coquet Middleton, while at present he is at
no expense, though he frequents the best company in England."
Miss Hamilton had much difficulty to suppress her laughter during this
harangue: however, she told him that she thought herself much honoured by
his intentions towards her, and still more obliged to him for consulting
her, before he made any overtures to her relations: "It will be time
enough," said she, "to speak to them upon the subject at your return from
the waters; for I do not think it is at all probable that they will
dispose of me before that time, and in case they should be urgent in
their solicitations, your nephew William will take care to acquaint you;
therefore, you may set out whenever you think proper; but take care not
to injure your health by returning too soon."
The Chevalier de Grammont, having heard the particulars of this
conversation, endeavoured, as well as he could, to be entertained with
it; though there were certain circumstances in the declaration,
notwithstanding the absurdity of others, which did not fail to give him
some uneasiness. Upon the whole, he was not sorry for Russell's
departure; and, assuming an air of pleasantry, he went to relate to the
king how Heaven had favoured him by delivering him from so dangerous a
rival. "He is gone then, Chevalier," said the king. "Certainly, sir,"
said he; "I had the honour to see him embark in a coach, with his asthma,
and country equipage, his perruque a calotte, neatly tied with a yellow
riband, and his old-fashioned hat covered with oil skin, which becomes
him uncommonly well: therefore, I have only to contend with William
Russell, whom he leaves as his resident with Miss Hamilton; and as for
him, I neither fear him upon his own account, nor his uncle's; he is too
much in love himself to pay attention to the interests of another; and as
he has but one method of promoting his own, which is by sacrificing the
portrait, or some love-letters of Mrs. Middleton, I have it easily in my
power to counteract him in such kind of favours, though I confess I have
pretty well paid for them."
"Since your affairs proceed so prosperously with the Russells," said the
king, "I will acquaint you that you are delivered from another rival,
much more dangerous, if he were not already married: my brother has
lately fallen in love with Lady Chesterfield." "How many blessings at
once!" exclaimed the Chevalier de Grammont: "I have so many obligations
to him for this inconstancy, that I would willingly serve him in his new
amour, if Hamilton was not his rival: nor will your majesty take it ill,
if I promote the interests of my 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 Chesterfield is of such a disposition, that
he will not suffer men to quarrel about his wife, with the same patience
as the complaisant Shrewsbury; though he well deserves the same fate."
Here follows a true description of Lord Chesterfield.
[Philip, the second Earl of Chesterfield. He was constituted, in
1662, lord-chamberlain to the queen, and colonel of a regiment of
foot, June 13, 1667. On November 29, 1679, he was appointed lord-
warden and chief-justice of the king's forests on this side Trent,
and sworn of the privy-council, January 26, 1680. On November 6,
1682, he was made colonel of the third regiment of foot, which, with
the rest of his preferments, he resigned on the accession of James
IT. He lived to the age of upwards of 80, and died, January 28,
1713, at his house, in Bloomsbury-square.]
He had a very agreeable face, a fine head of hair, an indifferent shape,
and a worse air; he was not, however, deficient in wit: a long residence
in Italy had made him ceremonious in his commerce with men, and jealous
in his connection with women: he had been much hated by the king; because
he had been much beloved by Lady Castlemaine: it was reported that he had
been in her good graces prior to her marriage; and as neither of them
denied it, it was the more generally believed.
He had paid his devoirs to the eldest daughter of the Duke of Ormond,
while his heart was still taken up with his former passion: the king's
love for Lady Castlemaine, and the advancement 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 lived some time with her in such coolness as to leave
her no room to doubt of his indifference. As she was endowed with great
sensibility and delicacy, 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 all his remaining tenderness for Lady
Castlemaine. For her it was no difficult undertaking: the conversation
of the one was disagreeable, from the unpolished state of her manners,
her ill-timed pride, her uneven temper, and extravagant humours Lady
Chesterfield, on the contrary, knew how to heighten her charms with all
the bewitching attractions in the power of a woman to invent who wishes
to make a conquest.
Besides all this, she had greater opportunities of making advances to him
than to any other: she lived at the Duke of Ormond's, at Whitehall, where
Hamilton, as was said before, had free admittance at all hours: her
extreme coldness, or rather the disgust which she showed for her
husband's returning affection, wakened his natural inclination to
jealousy: he suspected that she could not so very suddenly pass from
anxiety to indifference for him, without some secret object of a new
attachment; and, according to the maxim of all jealous husbands, he
immediately put in practice all his experience and industry, in order to
make a discovery, which was to destroy his own happiness.
Hamilton, who knew his disposition, was, on the other hand, upon his
guard, and the more he advanced in his intrigue, the more attentive was
he to remove every degree of suspicion from the Earl's mind: he 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, promised him his
protection with greater sincerity than it had been demanded: Hamilton,
therefore, was no further embarrassed than to preserve Lady
Chesterfield's reputation, who, in his opinion, declared herself rather
too openly in his 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 well as every one besides; but he
thought likewise, that all the world was deceived as well as himself: how
could he trust his own eyes, as to what those of Lady Chesterfield
betrayed for this new rival? He could not think it 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
still more improbable was, that she should begin another intrigue before
she had given the finishing stroke to that in which her own advances had
engaged her: however, he began to observe her with more circumspection,
when he found by his discoveries, that if she did not deceive him, at
least the desire of doing so was not wanting. This he took the liberty
of telling her of; but she answered him in so high a strain, and treated
what he said so much like a phantom of his own imagination, that he
appeared confused without being convinced: all the satisfaction he could
procure from her, was her telling him, in a haughty manner, that such
unjust reproaches as his ought to have had a better foundation.
Lord Chesterfield had taken the same alarm; and being convinced, from the
observations he had made, that he 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 all, how can we account for Lady Chesterfield's conduct, unless we
attribute it to the disease incident to most coquettes, who, charmed with
superiority, put in practice every art to rob another of her conquest,
and spare nothing to preserve it.
But before we enter into the particulars of this 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 allowable sometimes to drop the thread of a
narrative, when real facts, not generally known, give such a variety upon
the digression as to render it excusable: let us see then how those
things happened.
The Duke of York's marriage, with the chancellor's daughter, was
deficient in none of those circumstances which render contracts of this
nature valid in the eye of heaven the mutual inclination, the formal
ceremony, witnesses, and every essential point of matrimony, had been
observed.
[The material facts in this narrative are confirmed by Lord
Clarendon.--'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.]
Though the bride was no perfect beauty, yet, as there were none at the
court of Holland who eclipsed her, the Duke, during the first endearments
of matrimony, was so far from repenting of it, that he seemed only to
wish for the King's restoration that he might have an opportunity of
declaring it with splendour; but when he saw himself 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 all that was charming and lovely in the court of the King his
brother; and when he considered he was the only prince, who, from such
superior elevation, had descended so low, he began to reflect upon it.
On the one hand, his marriage appeared to him particularly ill suited in
every respect: he recollected 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 itself to his imagination,
together with the impossibility of obtaining the King's consent to such
an act, which for a thousand reasons he would be obliged to refuse. On
the other hand, the tears and despair of poor Miss Hyde presented
themselves; and still more than that, he felt a remorse of conscience,
the scruples of which began from that time to rise up against him.
In the midst of this perplexity he opened his heart to Lord Falmouth,
and consulted with him what method he ought to pursue: He could not have
applied to a better man for his own interests, nor to a worse for Miss
Hyde's; for at first, Falmouth maintained not only that he was not
married, but that it was even impossible that he could ever have formed
such a thought; that any marriage was invalid for him, which was made
without the King's 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 his sovereign had lately made
a peer of the realm, without any noble blood, and chancellor, without any
capacity; that as for his scruples, he had only to give ear to some
gentlemen whom he could introduce, who would thoroughly inform him of
Miss Hyde's conduct before he became acquainted with her; and provided
he did not tell them that he really was married, he would soon have
sufficient grounds to come to a determination.
The Duke of York consented, and Lord Falmouth, having assembled both his
council and his witnesses, conducted them to his Royal Highness's
cabinet, after having instructed them how to act: these gentlemen were
the Earl of Arran, Jermyn, Talbot, and Killegrew, all men of honour; but
who infinitely preferred the Duke of York's interest to Miss Hyde's
reputation, and who, besides, were greatly dissatisfied, as well as the
whole court, at the insolent authority of the prime minister.
The Duke having told them, after a sort of preamble, that although they
could not be ignorant of his affection for Miss Hyde, yet they might be
unacquainted with the engagements his tenderness for her had induced him
to contract; that he thought himself obliged to perform all the promises
he had made her; but as the innocence of persons of her age was generally
exposed to court scandal, and as certain reports, whether false or true,
had been spread abroad on the subject of her conduct, he conjured them as
his friends, and charged them upon their duty, to tell him sincerely
everything they knew upon the subject, since he was resolved to make
their evidence the rule of his conduct towards her. They all appeared
rather reserved at first, and seemed not to dare to give their opinions
upon an affair of so serious and delicate a nature; but the Duke of York
having renewed his entreaties, each began to relate the particulars of
what he knew, and perhaps of more than he knew, of poor Miss Hyde; nor
did they omit any circumstance necessary to strengthen the evidence. For
instance the Earl of Arran, who spoke first, deposed, that in the gallery
at 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 gallery; that he, the deponent,
had followed her, and having cut her lace, to give a greater probability
to the pretence of the vapours, he had acquitted himself to the best of
his abilities, both to assist and to console her.
Talbot said, that she had made an appointment with him in the
chancellor's cabinet, while he was in council; and, that, not paying so
much attention to what was upon the table as to what they were engaged
in, they had spilled a bottle full of ink upon a despatch of four pages,
and that the King's monkey, which was blamed for this accident, had been
a long time in disgrace.