Biography of Elizabeth Butler Countess Chesterfield 1640-1665

In Dec 1629 [her father] James Butler 1st Duke Ormonde 1610-1688 (19) and [her mother] Elizabeth Preston Duchess Ormonde 1615-1684 (14) were married. They were second cousins once removed.

In 1715 Godfrey Kneller 1646-1723. Portrait of James Butler 1st Duke Ormonde 1610-1688.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1647 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of James Butler 1st Duke Ormonde 1610-1688.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1678 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of James Butler 1st Duke Ormonde 1610-1688 in his Garter Robes.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Before 10 Sep 1687 Willem Wissing Painter 1656-1687. Portrait of James Butler 1st Duke Ormonde 1610-1688.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

On 24 Feb 1633 Walter Butler 11th Earl Ormonde 4th Earl Ossory 1559-1633 (74) died. His grandson [her father] James Butler 1st Duke Ormonde 1610-1688 (22) succeeded 12th Earl Ormonde, 5th Earl Ossory. [her mother] Elizabeth Preston Duchess Ormonde 1615-1684 (17) by marriage Countess Ormonde.

On 29 Jun 1640 Elizabeth Butler Countess Chesterfield 1640-1665 was born to [her father] James Butler 1st Duke Ormonde 1610-1688 (29) and [her mother] Elizabeth Preston Duchess Ormonde 1615-1684 (24).

On 30 Aug 1642 [her father] James Butler 1st Duke Ormonde 1610-1688 (31) was created 1st Marquess Ormonde 1C 1642. [her mother] Elizabeth Preston Duchess Ormonde 1615-1684 (27) by marriage Marchioness Ormonde.

In 1649 [her future brother-in-law] Charles Kirkoven 1st Earl Bellomont 1643-1683 (5) was created 1st Baron Wotton 2C 1649. Frances Willoughby Countess Bellomont 1642-1714 (6) by marriage Baroness Wotton.

In 1652 [her future husband] Philip Stanhope 2nd Earl Chesterfield 1634-1714 (18) and Anne Percy 2nd Countess Chesterfield 1635-1654 (17) were married. She by marriage Countess Chesterfield.

Around 1655 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of (probably) Anne Percy 2nd Countess Chesterfield 1635-1654. A three quarter-length portrait of a young woman, seated, looking slightly to the left, her right hand on the head of a sculptured dolphin-fountain and wearing a grey dress, with an old-gold mantle against a foliage background.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

After 1654 [her husband] Philip Stanhope 2nd Earl Chesterfield 1634-1714 and Elizabeth Butler Countess Chesterfield 1640-1665 were married. She by marriage Countess Chesterfield.

Before 1655 Charles Stanley 8th Earl Derby 1628-1672 and [her sister-in-law] Dorothea Helena Kirkoven Countess Derby 1630-1673 were married. He a great x 4 grandson of Henry VII King England and Ireland 1457-1509. She by marriage Countess Derby.

On 12 Sep 1656 Philip Stanhope 1st Earl Chesterfield 1584-1656 (72) died. His grandson [her husband] Philip Stanhope 2nd Earl Chesterfield 1634-1714 (22) succeeded 2nd Earl Chesterfield.

On 14 Nov 1659 [her brother] Thomas Butler 6th Earl Ossory 1634-1680 (25) and Emilia Nassau Beverweert Countess Ossory 1635-1688 (24) were married at Den Bosch.

In 1649 Gerrit van Honthorst Painter 1592-1656. Portrait of Emilia Nassau Beverweert Countess Ossory 1635-1688.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

On 30 Mar 1661 [her father] James Butler 1st Duke Ormonde 1610-1688 (50) was created 1st Duke Ormonde by Charles II King England Scotland and Ireland 1630-1685 (30). [her mother] Elizabeth Preston Duchess Ormonde 1615-1684 (45) by marriage Duchess Ormonde.

Around 1642. William Dobson Painter 1611-1646. Portrait of the future Charles II King England Scotland and Ireland 1630-1685.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Before 1691. John Riley Painter 1646-1691. Portrait of Charles II King England Scotland and Ireland 1630-1685.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1665 John Greenhill Painter 1644-1676. Portrait of Charles II King England Scotland and Ireland 1630-1685 in his Garter Robes.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1661 John Michael Wright Painter 1617-1694. Portrait of Charles II King England Scotland and Ireland 1630-1685 in his coronation robes.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Before 11 Jul 1671 Adriaen Hanneman Painter 1603-1671. Portrait of Charles II King England Scotland and Ireland 1630-1685. <BR><p class="inline-paragraph">1675. Hendrick Danckerts Painter 1625-1680. Portrait of Royal Gardener John Rose presenting a pineappel to King Charles II<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

In May 1662 [her brother] Richard Butler 1st Earl Arran 1639-1685 (22) was created 1st Earl Arran 2C 1662.

Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 July 1662. 26 Jul 1662. Sir W. Batten (61), Mr. Pett (51), and I at the office sitting all the morning.
So dined at home, and then to my office again, causing the model hanging in my chamber to be taken down and hung up in my office, for fear of being spoilt by the workmen, and for my own convenience of studying it.
This afternoon I had a letter from Mr. Creed, who hath escaped narrowly in the King's yacht, and got safe to the Downs after the late storm; and that there the King (32) do tell him, that he is sure that my Lord is landed at Callis safe, of which being glad, I sent news thereof to my Lord Crew, and by the post to my Lady into the country.
This afternoon I went to Westminster; and there hear that the King (32) and Queen (23) intend to come to White Hall from Hampton Court next week, for all winter.
Thence to Mrs. Sarah, and there looked over my Lord's lodgings, which are very pretty; and White Hall garden and the Bowling-ally (where lords and ladies are now at bowles), in brave condition. Mrs. Sarah told me how the falling out between my Baroness Castlemaine's (21) and her Lord was about christening of the child lately1, which he would have, and had done by a priest: and, some days after, she had it again christened by a minister; the King (32), and Lord of Oxford, and Duchesse of Suffolk, being witnesses: and christened with a proviso, that it had not already been christened. Since that she left her Lord, carrying away every thing in the house; so much as every dish, and cloth, and servant but the porter. He is gone discontented into France, they say, to enter a monastery; and now she is coming back again to her house in Kingstreet. But I hear that the Queen (23) did prick her out of the list presented her by the King (32);2 desiring that she might have that favour done her, or that he would send her from whence she come: and that the King (32) was angry and the Queen (23) discontented a whole day and night upon it; but that the King (32) hath promised to have nothing to do with her hereafter. But I cannot believe that the King (32) can fling her off so, he loving her too well: and so I writ this night to my Lady to be my opinion; she calling her my lady, and the lady I admire. Here I find that my Lord hath lost the garden to his lodgings, and that it is turning into a tennis-court. Hence by water to the Wardrobe to see how all do there, and so home to supper and to bed.
Note 1. The boy was born in June at Baroness Castlemaine's (21) house in King Street. By the direction of Lord Castlemaine, who had become a Roman Catholic, the child was baptized by a priest, and this led to a final separation between husband and wife. Some days afterwards the child was again baptized by the rector of St. Margaret's, Westminster, in presence of the godparents, the King (32), Aubrey De Vere (35), Earl of Oxford, and Barbara, Countess of Suffolk (40), first Lady of the Bedchamber to the Queen (23) and Baroness Castlemaine's (21) aunt. The entry in the register of St. Margaret's is as follows: "1662 June 18 Charles Palmer Ld Limbricke, s. to ye right honorble Roger Earl of Castlemaine by Barbara" (Steinman's "Memoir of Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland", 1871, p. 33). The child was afterwards called Charles Fitzroy, and was created Duke of Southampton in 1674. He succeeded his mother in the dukedom of Cleveland in 1709, and died 1730.
Note 2. By the King's command Lord Clarendon (53), much against his inclination, had twice visited his royal mistress with a view of inducing her, by persuasions which he could not justify, to give way to the King's determination to have Baroness Castlemaine's (21) of her household.... Lord Clarendon (53) has given a full account of all that transpired between himself, the King (32) and the Queen (23), on this very unpleasant business ('Continuation of Life of Clarendon,' 1759, ff. 168-178). Steinman's Memoir of Duchess of Cleveland, p. 35. The day at length arrived when Baroness Castlemaine's (21) was to be formally admitted a Lady of the Bedchamber. The royal warrant, addressed to the Lord Chamberlain (60), bears date June 1, 1663, and includes with that of her ladyship, the names of the Duchess of Buckingham (23), the Countesses of Chesterfield and Bath (22), and the Countess Mareshall. A separate warrant of the same day directs his lordship to admit the Countess of Suffolk as Groom of the Stole and first Lady of the Bedchamber, to which undividable offices she had, with the additional ones of Mistress of the Robes and Keeper of the Privy Purse, been nominated by a warrant dated April 2, 1662, wherein the reception of her oath is expressly deferred until the Queen's (23) household shall be established. We here are furnished with the evidence that Charles would not sign the warrants for the five until Catherine had withdrawn her objection to his favourite one. Addenda to Steinman's Memoir of Duchess of Cleveland (privately printed), 1874, p. i.

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On 26 Oct 1662 William Cavendish 1st Duke Devonshire 1640-1707 (22) and [her sister] Mary Butler Duchess Devonshire 1646-1710 (16) were married.

Before 1708 Godfrey Kneller 1646-1723. Portrait of William Cavendish 1st Duke Devonshire 1640-1707.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">In 1697 John Closterman Painter 1660-1711. Portrait of William Cavendish 1st Duke Devonshire 1640-1707.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1660 John Michael Wright Painter 1617-1694. Portrait of William Cavendish 1st Duke Devonshire 1640-1707.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1655. Unknown Painter. Portrait of William Cavendish 1st Duke Devonshire 1640-1707.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

Diary of Samuel Pepys 03 November 1662. 03 Nov 1662. Up and with Sir J. Minnes (63) in his coach to White Hall, to the Duke's; but found him gone out a-hunting.
Thence to my Lord Sandwich (37), from whom I receive every day more and more signs of his confidence and esteem of me. Here I met with Pierce the chyrurgeon, who tells me that my Baroness Castlemaine's (21) is with child; but though it be the King's, yet her Lord (28) being still in town, and sometimes seeing of her, though never to eat or lie together, it will be laid to him. He tells me also how the Duke of York (29) is smitten in love with my Lady Chesterfield (22)1 (a virtuous lady, daughter to my [her father] Lord of Ormond (52)); and so much, that the Duchess of York (25) hath complained to the King (32) and her father (53) about it, and my Lady Chesterfield (22) is gone into the country for it. At all which I am sorry; but it is the effect of idleness, and having nothing else to employ their great spirits upon.
Thence with Mr. Creede and Mr. Moore (who is got upon his legs and come to see my Lord) to Wilkinson's, and there I did give them and Mr. Howe their dinner of roast beef, cost me 5s., and after dinner carried Mr. Moore as far as Paul's in a coach, giving him direction about my law business, and there set him down, and I home and among my workmen, who happened of all sorts to meet to their making an end of a great many jobbs, so that after to-morrow I shall have but a little plastering and all the painting almost to do, which was good content to me. At night to my office, and did business; and there came to me Mr. Wade and Evett, who have been again with their prime intelligencer, a woman, I perceive: and though we have missed twice, yet they bring such an account of the probability of the truth of the thing, though we are not certain of the place, that we shall set upon it once more; and I am willing and hopefull in it. So we resolved to set upon it again on Wednesday morning; and the woman herself will be there in a disguise, and confirm us in the place. So they took leave for the night, and I to my business, and then home to my wife and to supper and bed, my pain being going away. So by God's great blessing my mind is in good condition of quiet.
Note 1. Lady Elizabeth Butler (22), daughter of [her father] James Butler (52), first Duke of Ormond, second wife of [her husband] Philip Stanhope (28), second Earl of Chesterfield. She died July, 1665 (see "Memoires de Grammont", chap. viii.). Peter Cunningham thinks that this banishment was only temporary, for, according to the Grammont Memoirs, she was in town when the Russian ambassador was in London, December, 1662, and January, 1662- 63. "It appears from the books of the Lord Steward's office... that [her husband] Lord Chesterfield (28) set out for the country on the 12th May, 1663, and, from his 'Short Notes' referred to in the Memoirs before his Correspondence, that he remained at Bretby, in Derbyshire, with his wife, throughout the summer of that year" ("Story of Nell Gwyn", 1852, p. 189).

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Diary of Samuel Pepys 01 January 1663. 01 Jan 1663. Lay with my wife at my Lord's lodgings, where I have been these two nights, till 10 o'clock with great pleasure talking, then I rose and to White Hall, where I spent a little time walking among the courtiers, which I perceive I shall be able to do with great confidence, being now beginning to be pretty well known among them. Then to my wife again, and found Mrs. Sarah with us in the chamber we lay in. Among other discourse, Mrs. Sarah tells us how the King (32) sups at least four or [five] times every week with my Baroness Castlemaine's (22); and most often stays till the morning with her, and goes home through the garden all alone privately, and that so as the very centrys take notice of it and speak of it. She tells me, that about a month ago she [Baroness Castlemaine (22)] quickened at my Lord Gerard's (45) at dinner, and cried out that she was undone; and all the lords and men were fain to quit the room, and women called to help her. In fine, I find that there is nothing almost but bawdry at Court from top to bottom, as, if it were fit, I could instance, but it is not necessary; only they say my [her husband] Lord Chesterfield (29), groom of the stole to the Queen (24), is either gone or put away from the Court upon the score of his lady's (22) having smitten the Duke of York (29), so as that he is watched by the Duchess of York (25), and his lady (22) is retired into the country upon it. How much of this is true, God knows, but it is common talk.
After dinner I did reckon with Mrs. Sarah for what we have eat and drank here, and gave her a crown, and so took coach, and to the Duke's house, where we saw "The Villaine" again; and the more I see it, the more I am offended at my first undervaluing the play, it being very good and pleasant, and yet a true and allowable tragedy. The house was full of citizens, and so the less pleasant, but that I was willing to make an end of my gaddings, and to set to my business for all the year again tomorrow. Here we saw the old Roxalana (20) in the chief box, in a velvet gown, as the fashion is, and very handsome, at which I was glad. Hence by coach home, where I find all well, only Sir W. Pen (41) they say ill again.
So to my office to set down these two or three days' journall, and to close the last year therein, and so that being done, home to supper, and to bed, with great pleasure talking and discoursing with my wife of our late observations abroad.

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Diary of Samuel Pepys 19 January 1663. 19 Jan 1663. Up and to White Hall, and while the Duke (29) is dressing himself I went to wait on my Lord Sandwich (37), whom I found not very well, and Dr. Clerke with him. He is feverish, and hath sent for Mr. Pierce to let him blood, but not being in the way he puts it off till night, but he stirs not abroad to-day.
Then to the Duke, and in his closett discoursed as we use to do, and then broke up.
That done, I singled out Mr. Coventry (35) into the Matted Gallery, and there I told him the complaints I meet every day about our Treasurer's or his people's paying no money, but at the goldsmith's shops, where they are forced to pay fifteen or twenty sometimes per cent. for their money, which is a most horrid shame, and that which must not be suffered. Nor is it likely that the Treasurer (at least his people) will suffer Maynell the Goldsmith to go away with £10,000 per annum, as he do now get, by making people pay after this manner for their money. We were interrupted by the Duke (29), who called Mr. Coventry (35) aside for half an hour, walking with him in the gallery, and then in the garden, and then going away I ended my discourse with Mr. Coventry (35). But by the way Mr. Coventry (35) was saying that there remained nothing now in our office to be amended but what would do of itself every day better and better, for as much as he that was slowest, Sir W. Batten (62), do now begin to look about him and to mind business. At which, God forgive me! I was a little moved with envy, but yet I am glad, and ought to be, though it do lessen a little my care to see that the King's service is like to be better attended than it was heretofore.
Thence by coach to Mr. Povy's (49), being invited thither by (him) came a messenger this morning from him, where really he made a most excellent and large dinner, of their variety, even to admiration, he bidding us, in a frolique, to call for what we had a mind, and he would undertake to give it us: and we did for prawns, swan, venison, after I had thought the dinner was quite done, and he did immediately produce it, which I thought great plenty, and he seems to set off his rest in this plenty and the neatness of his house, which he after dinner showed me, from room to room, so beset with delicate pictures, and above all, a piece of perspective in his closett in the low parler; his stable, where was some most delicate horses, and the very-racks painted, and mangers, with a neat leaden painted cistern, and the walls done with Dutch tiles, like my chimnies. But still, above all things, he bid me go down into his wine-cellar, where upon several shelves there stood bottles of all sorts of wine, new and old, with labells pasted upon each bottle, and in the order and plenty as I never saw books in a bookseller's shop; and herein, I observe, he puts his highest content, and will accordingly commend all that he hath, but still they deserve to be so.
Here dined with me Dr. Whore and Mr. Scawen. Therewith him and Mr. Bland, whom we met by the way, to my Chancellor's (53), where the King (32) was to meet my Lord Treasurer (55), &c., many great men, to settle the revenue of Tangier. I staid talking awhile there, but the King (32) not coming I walked to my brother's, where I met my cozen Scotts (Tom not being at home) and sent for a glass of wine for them, and having drunk we parted, and I to the Wardrobe talking with Mr. Moore about my law businesses, which I doubt will go ill for want of time for me to attend them.
So home, where I found Mrs. Lodum speaking with my wife about her kinswoman which is offered my wife to come as a woman to her.
So to the office and put things in order, and then home and to bed, it being my great comfort that every day I understand more and more the pleasure of following of business and the credit that a man gets by it, which I hope at last too will end in profit.
This day, by Dr. Clerke, I was told the occasion of my [her husband] Lord Chesterfield's (29) going and taking his lady (22) (my Lord Ormond's daughter) from Court. It seems he not only hath been long jealous of the Duke of York (29), but did find them two talking together, though there were others in the room, and the lady by all opinions a most good, virtuous woman.
He, the next day (of which the Duke was warned by somebody that saw the passion my [her husband] Lord Chesterfield (29) was in the night before), went and told the Duke how much he did apprehend himself wronged, in his picking out his lady of the whole Court to be the subject of his dishonour; which the Duke (29) did answer with great calmness, not seeming to understand the reason of complaint, and that was all that passed but my Lord did presently pack his lady into the country in Derbyshire, near the Peake; which is become a proverb at Court, to send a man's wife to the Devil's arse a' Peake, when she vexes him.
This noon I did find out Mr. Dixon at Whitehall, and discoursed with him about Mrs. Wheatly's daughter for a wife for my brother Tom (29), and have committed it to him to enquire the pleasure of her father and mother concerning it. I demanded £300.

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In May 1663 [her daughter] Elizabeth Stanhope Countess Strathmore and Kinghorne 1663-1723 was born to [her husband] Philip Stanhope 2nd Earl Chesterfield 1634-1714 (29) and Elizabeth Butler Countess Chesterfield 1640-1665 (22).

Around 1665 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680 (46). Portrait of Elizabeth Butler Countess Chesterfield 1640-1665 (24).

In Jul 1665 Elizabeth Butler Countess Chesterfield 1640-1665 (25) died.

After Jul 1665 [her husband] Philip Stanhope 2nd Earl Chesterfield 1634-1714 and Elizabeth Dormer 2nd Countess Chesterfield 1653-1677 were married. They were third cousins once removed. She by marriage Countess Chesterfield.

On 28 Jan 1714 [her husband] Philip Stanhope 2nd Earl Chesterfield 1634-1714 (80) died. He was buried at Shelford Mansfield Woodhouse. His son [her step-son] Philip Stanhope 3rd Earl Chesterfield 1673-1726 (40) succeeded 3rd Earl Chesterfield.

My Recollections by Adeline Horsey Countess Cardigan 1824 1915 Chapter V: Country House Visits. Bretby was the scene of the enforced retirement of the lovely Lady Chesterfield, whose jealous [her former husband] husband brought her thither from the Court of Charles II De Grammont followed her, and I have often sat in the summer-house, described in his " Memoirs", where he patiently waited for his inamorata to pass by.

Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 8. Lady Robarts was then in the zenith of her glory: her beauty was striking; yet notwithstanding the brightness of the finest complexion, with all the bloom of youth, and with every requisite for inspiring desire, she nevertheless was not attractive. The Duke of York, however, would probably have been successful, if difficulties, almost insurmountable, had not disappointed his good intentions: Lord Robarts, her husband, was an old, snarling, troublesome, peevish fellow, in love with her to distraction, and, to complete her misery, a perpetual attendant on her person.
She perceived his royal highness's attachment to her, and seemed as if she was inclined to be grateful: this redoubled his eagerness, and every outward mark of tenderness he could possibly shew her; but the watchful husband redoubling his zeal and assiduity, as he found the approaches advance, every art was practised to render him tractable: several attacks were made upon his avarice and his ambition. Those who possessed the greatest share of his confidence, insinuated to him, that it was his own fault, if Lady Robarts, who was so worthy of being at court, was not received into some considerable post, either about the queen or the duchess: he was offered to be made lord lieutenant of the county where his estate was; or to have the management of the Duke of York's revenues in Ireland, of which he should have the entire disposal, provided he immediately set out to take possession of his charge; and having accomplished it, he might return as soon as ever he thought proper.
He perfectly well understood the meaning of these proposals, and was fully apprized of the advantages he might reap from them: in vain did ambition and avarice hold out their allurements; he was deaf to all their temptations, nor could ever the old fellow be persuaded to be made a cuckold. It is not always an aversion to, or a dread of this distinction, which preserves us from it: of this her husband was very sensible; therefore, under the pretence of a pilgrimage to Saint Winifred the virgin and martyr, who was said to cure women of barrenness, he did not rest, until the highest mountains in Wales were between his wife and the person who had designed to perform this miracle in London, after his departure.
The duke was for some time entirely taken up with the pleasures of the chase, and only now and then engaged in those of love; but his taste having undergone a change in this particular, and the remembrance of Lady Robarts wearing off by degrees, his eyes and wishes were turned towards Miss Brook; and it was in the height of this pursuit, that Lady Chesterfield threw herself into his arms, as we shall see, by resuming the sequel of her adventures.

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Before 1694 John Michael Wright Painter 1617-1694. Portrait of King James II when Duke of York.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1666 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of King James II and Anne Hyde Queen Consort England 1637-1671. See Diary of Samuel Pepys 24 March 1666.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Before 04 Jan 1674 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of King James II wearing his Garter Robes.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1672 Henri Gascar Painter 1635-1701. Portrait of King James II.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 8. "His royal highness honoured me yesterday by a visit to my wife." Hamilton started at this beginning. "Yes," continued the other, "he did give himself that trouble, and Lord Arran took upon himself that of bringing him: do not you wonder that a man of his birth should act such a part? What advancement can he expect from one who employs him in such base services? But we have long known him to be one of the silliest creatures in England, with his guitar, and his other whims and follies." Chesterfield, after this short sketch of his brother-in-law's merit, began to relate the observations he had made during the visit, and asked Hamilton what he thought of his cousin Arran, who had so obligingly left them together. "This may appear surprising to you," continued he, "but hear me out, and judge whether I have reason to think that the close of this pretty visit passed in perfect innocence. Lady Chesterfield is amiable, it must be acknowledged; but she is far from being such a miracle of beauty as she supposes herself: you know she has ugly feet; but perhaps you are not acquainted that she has still worse legs." "Pardon me," said Hamilton, within himself: and the other continuing the description: "Her legs," said his lordship, "are short and thick; and, to remedy these defects as much as possible, she seldom wears any other than green stockings."
Hamilton could not for his life imagine the drift of all this discourse, and Chesterfield guessing his thoughts: "Have a little patience," said he: "I went yesterday to Miss Stewart's, after the audience of those damned Muscovites: the king arrived there just before me; and as if the duke had sworn to pursue me wherever I went that day, he came in just after me. The conversation turned upon the extraordinary appearance of the ambassadors. I know not where that fool Crofts had heard that all these Muscovites had handsome wives; and that all their wives had handsome legs. Upon this the king maintained, that no woman ever had such handsome legs as Miss Stewart; and she, to prove the truth of his majesty's assertion, with the greatest imaginable ease, immediately shewed her leg above the knee. Some were ready to prostrate themselves, in order to adore its beauty; for indeed none can be handsomer; but the duke alone began to criticize upon it. He contended that it was too slender, and that as for himself he would give nothing for a leg that was not thicker and shorter, and concluded by saying, that no leg was worth any thing without green stockings: now this, in my opinion, was a sufficient demonstration that he had just seen green stockings, and had them fresh in his remembrance."
Hamilton was at a loss what countenance to put on, during a narrative which raised in him nearly the same conjectures: he shrugged up his shoulders, and faintly said that appearances were often deceitful; that Lady Chesterfield had the foible of all beauties, who place their merit on the number of their admirers; and whatever airs she might imprudently have given herself, in order not to discourage his royal highness, there was no ground to suppose that she would indulge him in any greater liberties to engage him: but in vain was it that he endeavoured to give that consolation to his friend which he did not feel himself. Chesterfield plainly perceived he did not think of what he was saying; however, he thought himself much obliged to him for the interest he seemed to take in his concerns.
Hamilton was in haste to go home to vent his spleen and resentment in a letter to his cousin: the style of this billet was very different from those which he formerly was accustomed to write to her: reproaches, bitter expostulations, tenderness, menaces, and all the effusions of a lover, who thinks he has reason to complain, composed this epistle; which, for fear of accidents, he went to deliver himself.

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Around 1662 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Frances Teresa Stewart Duchess Lennox and Richmond 1647-1702. One of the Windsor Beauties.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 8. The court, as we have mentioned before, was an entire scene of gallantry and amusements, with all the politeness and magnificence, which the inclinations of a prince, naturally addicted to tenderness and pleasure, could suggest; the beauties were desirous of charming, and the men endeavoured to please; all studied to set themselves off to the best advantage; some distinguished themselves by dancing; others by show and magnificence; some by their wit, many by their amours, but few by their constancy. There was a certain Italian at court, famous for the guitar; he had a genius for music, and he was the only man who could make any thing of the guitar: his style of play was so full of grace and tenderness, that he would have given harmony to the most discordant instruments. The truth is, nothing was so difficult as to play like this foreigner. The king's relish for his compositions had brought the instrument so much into vogue, that every person played upon it, well or ill; and you were as sure to see a guitar on a lady's toilette, as rouge or patches. The Duke of York played upon it tolerably well, and the [her brother] Earl of Arran like Francisco himself. This Francisco had composed a saraband, which either charmed or infatuated every person; for the whole guitarery at court were trying at it, and God knows what an universal strumming there was. The Duke of York, pretending not to be perfect in it, desired Lord Arran to play it to him. Lady Chesterfield had the best guitar in England. The [her brother] Earl of Arran, who was desirous of playing his best, conducted his royal highness to his sister's apartments; she was lodged at court, at her father's, the [her father] Duke of Ormond's, and this wonderful guitar was lodged there too. Whether this visit had been preconcerted or not, I do not pretend to say; but it is certain that they found both the lady and the guitar at home; they likewise found there Lord Chesterfield, so much surprised at this unexpected visit, that it was a considerable time before he thought of rising from his seat, to receive them with due respect.
Jealousy, like a malignant vapour, now seized upon his brain; a thousand suspicions, blacker than ink, took possession of his imagination, and were continually increasing; for whilst the brother played upon the guitar to the duke, the sister ogled and accompanied him with her eyes, as if the coast had been clear, and no enemy to observe them. This saraband was at least repeated twenty times; the duke declared it was played to perfection. Lady Chesterfield found fault with the composition; but her husband, who clearly perceived that he was the person played upon, thought it a most detestable piece. However, though he was in the last agony, at being obliged to curb his passion, while others gave a free scope to theirs, he was resolved to find out the drift of the visit; but it was not in his power; for having the honour to be chamberlain to the queen, a messenger came to require his immediate attendance on her majesty. His first thought was to pretend sickness; the second to suspect that the queen, who sent for him at such an unseasonable time, was in the plot; but at last, after all the extravagant ideas of a suspicious man, and all the irresolutions of a jealous husband, he was obliged to go.
We may easily imagine what his state of mind was when he arrived at the palace. Alarms are to the jealous, what disasters are to the unfortunate: they seldom come alone, but form a series of persecution. He was informed that he was sent for to attend the queen at an audience she gave to seven or eight Muscovite ambassadors: he had scarce begun to curse the Muscovites, when his brother-in-law appeared, and drew upon himself all the imprecations he bestowed upon the embassy: he no longer doubted his being in the plot with the two persons he had left together; and in his heart sincerely wished him such recompense for his good offices as such good offices deserved. It was with great difficulty that he restrained himself from immediately acquainting him what was his opinion of such conduct: he thought that what he had already seen was a 'sufficient proof of his wife's infidelity; but before the end of the very same day, some circumstances occurred, which increased his suspicions, and persuaded him, that they had taken advantage of his absence, and of the honourable officiousness of his brother-in-law. He passed, however, that night with tranquillity; but the next morning, being reduced, to the necessity either of bursting or giving vent to his sorrows and conjectures, he did nothing but think and walk about the room until Park-time. He went to court, seemed very busy, as if seeking for some person or other, imagining that people guessed at the subject of his uneasiness: he avoided every body; but at length meeting with Hamilton, he thought he was the very man that he wanted; and having desired him to take an airing with him in Hyde Park, he took him up in his coach, and they arrived at the Ring, without a word having passed between them.
Hamilton, who saw him as yellow as jealousy itself, and particularly thoughtful, imagined that he had just discovered what all the world had perceived long before; when Chesterfield, after a broken insignificant preamble, asked him how he succeeded with Lady Castlemaine. Hamilton, who very well saw that he meant nothing by this question, nevertheless thanked him; and as he was thinking of an answer: "Your cousin," said the earl, "is extremely coquettish, and I have some reason to suppose she is not so prudent as she ought to be." Hamilton thought the last charge a little too severe; and as he was endeavouring to refute it: "Good God," said my lord, "you see, as well as the whole court, what airs she gives herself: husbands are always the last people that are spoken to about those affairs that concern them the most; but they are not always the last to perceive it themselves: though you have made me your confidant in other matters, yet I am not at all surprised you have concealed this from me; but as I flatter myself with having some share in your esteem, I should be sorry you should think me such a fool as to be incapable of seeing, though I am so complaisant as not to express my sentiments: nevertheless, I find that affairs are now carried on with such barefaced boldness, that at length I find I shall be forced to take some course or other. God forbid that I should act the ridiculous part of a jealous husband: the character is odious; but then I do not intend, through an excess of patience, to be made the jest of the town. Judge, therefore, from what I am going to tell you, whether I ought to sit down unconcerned, or whether I ought to take measures for the preservation of my honour.

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Before 07 Nov 1666. William Faithorne "The Elder" Engraver 1616-1691. Portrait of Barbara Villiers 1st Duchess of Cleveland 1640-1709. See Diary of Samuel Pepys 07 November 1666.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Before 1694 John Michael Wright Painter 1617-1694. Portrait of Barbara Villiers 1st Duchess of Cleveland 1640-1709.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1664 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Barbara Villiers 1st Duchess of Cleveland 1640-1709 and her son Charles Fitzroy 1st Duke Southampton as Madonna and Child.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1666 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Barbara Villiers 1st Duchess of Cleveland 1640-1709. One of the Windsor Beauties.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Before 07 Dec 1680 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Barbara Villiers 1st Duchess of Cleveland 1640-1709.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Before 07 Dec 1680 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Barbara Villiers 1st Duchess of Cleveland 1640-1709.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1690 Jacob Huysmans Painter 1633-1696. Portrait of Barbara Villiers 1st Duchess of Cleveland 1640-1709.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Before 01 Jan 1701 Henri Gascar Painter 1635-1701. Portrait of Barbara Villiers 1st Duchess of Cleveland 1640-1709.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 8. So great was his confidence in her, that he consented she should shew in public some marks of attention to the duke, in order to conceal as much as possible their private intelligence. Thus, at this time nothing disturbed his peace of mind, but his impatience of finding a favourable opportunity for the completion of his desires: he thought it was in her power to command it; but she excused herself on account of several difficulties which she enumerated to him, and which she was desirous he should remove by his industry and attentions.
This silenced his complaints; but whilst he was endeavouring to surmount these obstacles, still wondering how it was possible that two persons who were so well disposed to each other, and who were agreed to make each other happy, could not put their designs in execution, accident discovered an unexpected adventure, which left him no room to doubt, either of the happiness of his rival, or of the perfidy of his mistress.
Misfortunes often fall light when most feared; and frequently prove heaviest when merited, and when least suspected. Hamilton was in the middle of the most tender and passionate letter he had ever written to Lady Chesterfield, when her husband came to announce to him the particulars of this last discovery: he came so suddenly upon him, that he had only just time to conceal his amorous epistle among his other papers. His heart and mind were still so full of what he was writing to his cousin, that her husband's complaints against her, at first, were scarce attended to; besides, in his opinion, he had come in the most unfortunate moment on all accounts.
He was, however, obliged to listen to him, and he soon entertained quite different sentiments: he appeared almost petrified with astonishment, while the earl was relating to him circumstances of such an extravagant indiscretion, as seemed to him quite incredible, notwithstanding the particulars of the fact. "You have reason to be surprised at it," said my lord, concluding his story; "but if you doubt the truth of what I tell you, it will be easy for you to find evidence that will convince you; for the scene of their tender familiarities was no less public than the room where the queen plays at cards, which, while her majesty was at play, was, God knows, pretty well crowded. Lady Denham was the first who discovered what they thought would pass unperceived in the crowd; and you may very well judge how secret she would keep such a circumstance. The truth is, she addressed herself to me first of all, as I entered the room, to tell me that I should give my wife a little advice, as other people might take notice of what I might see myself, if I pleased.
"Your cousin was at play, as I before told you: the duke was sitting next to her: I know not what was become of his band; but I am sure that no one could see his arm below the elbow: I was standing behind them, just in the place that Lady Denham had quitted: the duke turning round perceived me, and was so much disturbed at my presence, that he almost undressed my lady in pulling away his hand. I know not whether they perceived that they were discovered; but of this I am convinced, that Lady Denham will take care that every body shall know it. I must confess to you, that my embarrassment is so great, that I cannot find words to express what I now feel: I should not hesitate one moment what course to take, if I might be allowed to shew my resentment against the person who has wronged me. As for her, I could manage her well enough, if, unworthy as she is of any consideration, I had not still some regard for an illustrious family, that would be distracted were I to resent such an injury as it deserves. In this particular you are interested yourself: you are my friend, and I make you my confidant in an affair of the greatest imaginable delicacy: let us then consult together what is proper to be done in so perplexing and disagreeable a situation."

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Around 1664 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Margaret Brooke Lady Denham 1640-1667. One of the Windsor Beauties.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 6. Such were the heroes of the court. As for the beauties, you could not look anywhere without seeing them: those of the greatest reputation were this same Countess of Castlemaine, afterwards Duchess of Cleveland, Lady Chesterfield, Lady Shrewsbury, the Mrs. Roberts, Mrs. Middleton, the Miss Brooks, and a thousand others, who shone at court with equal lustre; but it was Miss Hamilton and Miss Stewart who were its chief ornaments. The new queen gave but little additional brilliancy to the court, either in her person, or in her retinue, which was then composed of the Countess de Panétra, who came over with her in quality of lady of the bedchamber; six frights, who called themselves maids of honour, and a duenna, another monster, who took the title of governess to those extraordinary beauties.

In 1659 Mary Beale aka Cradock Painter 1633-1699 (attributed). Portrait of Anna Maria Brudenell Countess Shrewsbury and Waterford 1642-1702.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1668 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Anna Maria Brudenell Countess Shrewsbury and Waterford 1642-1702.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1670 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Anna Maria Brudenell Countess Shrewsbury and Waterford 1642-1702.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1664 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Jane Needham 1645-1692. One of the Windsor Beauties.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 8. 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 à 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.
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 [her father] 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 [her father] 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 shewed 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 maxims 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 embarrased 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 diseretion, 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 teazing 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.
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.

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Around 1643. William Dobson Painter 1611-1646. Portrait of Edward Hyde 1st Earl Clarendon 1609-1674.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Before 04 Jan 1674 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Edward Hyde 1st Earl Clarendon 1609-1674.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1661 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Anne Hyde Queen Consort England 1637-1671.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1662 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Anne Hyde Queen Consort England 1637-1671. One of the Windsor Beauties.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">Around 1665 Peter Lely Painter 1618-1680. Portrait of Anne Hyde Queen Consort England 1637-1671.<BR><p class="inline-paragraph">

Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 8. Never did she before appear so lovely, and never did her eyes speak so kindly to him as at this moment: his heart quite relented; but he was determined not to lose all the fine things he had said in his letter. In receiving it, she squeezed his hand: this action completely disarmed him, and he would have given his life to have had his letter again. It appeared to him at this instant, that all the grievances he complained of were visionary and groundless: he looked upon her husband as a madman and an impostor, and quite the reverse of what he supposed him to be a few minutes before; but this remorse came a little too late: he had delivered his billet; and Lady Chesterfield had shewn such impatience and eagerness to read it as soon as she had got it, that all circumstances seemed to conspire to justify her, and to confound him. She managed to get quit some way or other of some troublesome visitors, to slip into her closet; he thought himself so culpable, that he had not the assurance to wait her return: he withdrew with the rest of the company; but he did not dare to appear before her the next day, to have an answer to his letter: however, he met her at court; and this was the first time, since the commencement of their amour, that he did not seek for her. He stood at a distance, with downcast looks, and appeared in such terrible embarrassment, that his condition was sufficient to raise laughter or to cause pity, when Lady Chesterfield approaching, thus accosted him: "Confess," said she, "that you are in as foolish a situation as any man of sense can be: you wish you had not written to me: you are desirous of an answer: you hope for none: yet, you equally wish for and dread it: I have, however, written you one." She had not time to say more; but the few words she had spoken were accompanied with such an air, and such a look, as to make him believe that it was Venus with all her Graces who had addressed him: he was near her when she sat down to cards, and as he was puzzling himself to devise by what means he should get this answer, she desired him to lay her gloves and fan down somewhere: he took them, and with them the billet in question, and as he had perceived nothing severe or angry in the conversation he had with her, he hastened to open her letter, and read as follows:
"Your transports are so ridiculous, that it is doing you a favour to attribute them to an excess of tenderness, which turns your head: a man, without doubt, must have a great inclination to be jealous, to entertain such an idea of the person you mention. Good God! what a lover to have caused uneasiness to a man of genius, and what a genius, to have got the better of mine! Are not you ashamed to give any credit to the visions of a jealous fellow, who brought nothing else with him from Italy? Is it possible, that the story of the green stockings, upon which he has founded his suspicions, should have imposed upon you, accompanied as it is with such pitiful circumstances? Since he has made you his confidant, why did not he boast of breaking in pieces my poor harmless guitar? This exploit, perhaps, might have convinced you more than all the rest: recollect yourself, and if you are really in love with me, thank fortune for a groundless jealousy, which diverts to another quarter the attention he might pay to my attachment for the most amiable and the most dangerous man of the court."
Hamilton was ready to weep for joy at these endearing marks of kindness, of which he thought himself so unworthy: he was not satisfied with kissing, in raptures, every part of this billet; he also kissed several times her gloves and her fan. Play being over, Lady Chesterfield received them from his hands, and read in his eyes the joy that her billet had raised in his heart. Nor was he satisfied with expressing his raptures only by looks: he hastened home, and writ to her at least four times as much. How different was this letter from the other! Though perhaps not so well written; for one does not shew so much wit in suing for pardon as in venting reproaches, and it seldom happens that the soft, languishing style of a love-letter is so penetrating as that of invective.
Be that as it may, his peace was made: their past quarrel gave new life to their correspondence; and Lady Chesterfield, to make him as easy as he had before been distrustful, expressed on every occasion a feigned contempt for his rival, and a sincere aversion for her husband.

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Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 8. Hamilton, if possible, more astonished, and more confounded than himself, was far from being in a proper state to afford him advice on the present occasion: he listened to nothing but jealousy, and breathed nothing but revenge; but these emotions being somewhat abated, in hopes that there might be calumny, or at least exaggeration in the charges against Lady Chesterfield, he desired her husband to suspend his resolutions, until he was more fully informed of the fact; assuring him, however, that if he found the circumstances such as he had related, he should regard and consult no other interest than his.
Upon this they parted; and Hamilton found, on the first inquiry, that almost the whole court was informed of the adventure, to which every one added something in relating it. Vexation and resentment inflamed his heart, and by degrees extinguished every remnant of his former passion.
He might easily have seen her, and have made her such reproaches as a man is generally inclined to do on such occasions; but he was too much enraged to enter into any detail which might have led to an explanation: he considered himself as the only person essentially injured in this affair; for he could never bring his mind to think that the injuries of the husband could be placed in competition with those of the lover.
He hastened to Lord Chesterfield, in the transport of his passion, and told him that he had heard enough to induce him to give such advice, as he should follow himself in the same situation, and that, if he wished to save a woman so strongly prepossessed, and who, perhaps, had not yet lost all her innocence, though she had totally lost her reason, he ought not to delay one single instant, but immediately to carry her into the country, with the greatest possible expedition, without allowing her the least time to recover her surprise.

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Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 8. Those who appeared the most attentive to their conduct, were not the least interested in it; Hamilton and Lord Chesterfield watched them narrowly; but Lady Denham, vexed that Lady Chesterfield should have stepped in before her, took the liberty of railing against her rival with the greatest bitterness. Hamilton had hitherto flattered himself, that vanity alone had engaged Lady Chesterfield in this adventure; but he was soon undeceived, whatever her indifference might have been when she first commenced this intrigue. We often proceed farther than we at first intended, when we indulge ourselves in trifling liberties, which we think of no consequence; for though perhaps the heart takes no part at the beginning, it seldom fails to be engaged in the end.

Memoirs of Count Grammont by Anthony Hamilton Chapter 8. Sir John Denham, loaded with wealth as well as years, had passed his youth in the midst of those pleasures which people at that age indulge in without restraint: he was one of the brightest geniuses England ever produced for wit and humour, and for brilliancy of composition: satirical and free in his poems, he spared neither frigid writers, nor jealous husbands, nor even their wives: every part abounded with the most poignant wit, and the most entertaining stories; but his most delicate and spirited raillery turned generally against matrimony; and, as if he wished to confirm, by his own example, the truth of what he had written in his youth, he married, at the age of seventy-nine, this Miss Brook of whom we are speaking, who was only eighteen.
The Duke of York had rather neglected her for some time before; but the circumstance of so unequal a match rekindled his ardour; and she, on her part, suffered him to entertain hopes of an approaching bliss, which a thousand considerations had opposed before her marriage: she wished to belong to the court; and for the promise of being made lady of the bedchamber to the duchess, she was upon the point of making him another promise, or of immediately performing it, if required, when, in the middle of this treaty, Lady Chesterfield was tempted by her evil genius to rob her of her conquest, in order to disturb all the world.
However, as Lady Chesterfield could not see the Duke of York, except in public assemblies, she was under the necessity of making the most extravagant advances, in order to seduce him from his former connection; and as he was the most unguarded ogler of his time, the whole court was informed of the intrigue before it was well begun.

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Charles Kirkoven 1st Earl Bellomont 1643-1683 and Frances Willoughby Countess Bellomont 1642-1714 were married.

[her brother] Richard Butler 1st Earl Arran 1639-1685 and Mary Stewart Countess Arran 1651-1668 were married. She by marriage Countess Arran.