Memoirs of Count Grammont | Page 4

to flight, by the publication of the 'Quatre
Facardins', and, more especially, 'La Fleur d'Epine'. Some of the
introductory verses to these productions are written with peculiar ease
and grace; and are highly extolled, and even imitated, by Voltaire. La
Harpe praises the Fleur d'Epine, as the work of an original genius: I do
not think, however, that they are much relished in England, probably
because very ill translated. Another of his literary productions was the
novel called Le Belier, which he wrote on the following occasion:
Louis XIV. had presented to the Countess of Grammont (whom he
highly esteemed) a remarkably elegant small country house in the park
of Versailles: this house became so fashionable a resort, and brought
such constant visitors, that the Count de Grammont said, in his usual
way, he would present the king with a list of all the persons he was
obliged to entertain there, as more suited to his Majesty's purse than his
own: the countess wished to change the name of the place from the
vulgar appellation of Le Moulineau into that of Pentalie: and Hamilton,
in his novel, wrote a history of a giant, an enchantment, and a princess,
to commemorate her resolution. It has however happened that the giant

Moulineau has had the advantage in the course of time; for the estate,
which is situated near Meudon, upon the Seine, retains its original and
popular designation.
About the year 1704, Hamilton turned his attention to collecting the
memoirs of his brother-in-law, the Count de Grammont, as we may
conjecture, from the epistle beginning "Honneur des rives eloignees"
being written towards the close of the above year: it is dated, or
supposed to be so, from the banks of the Garonne. Among other
authors whom Hamilton at first proposes to Grammont, as capable of
writing his life (though, on reflection, he thinks them not suited to it), is
Boileau, whose genius he professes to admire; but adds that his muse
has somewhat of malignity; and that such a muse might caress with one
hand and satirize him with the other. This letter was sent by Hamilton
to Boileau, who answered him with great politeness; but, at the same
time that he highly extolled the epistle to Grammont, he, very naturally,
seemed anxious to efface any impression which such a representation
of his satiric vein might make on the Count's mind, and accordingly
added a few complimentary verses to him: this letter is dated, Paris, 8th
February, 1705. About the same time, another letter was written to
Hamilton on the subject of the Epistle to Grammont, by La Chapelle,
who also seemed desirous that his life should be given to the public, but
was much perplexed which of the most celebrated ancients to compare
the count to. Mecaenas first presented himself to his imagination:
absurdly enough, in my opinion; for there was not a trace of similitude
between the two characters. This, however, afforded him some
opportunity, as he thought, of discovering a resemblance between
Horace and Hamilton, in which he equally failed. Petronius is then
brought forward, as affording some comparison to the Count;--a man of
pleasure, giving up the day to sleep, and the night to entertainment; but
then, adds La Chapelle, it will be suggested that, such is the perpetual
activity of the Count of Grammont's mind, he may be said to sleep
neither night nor day; and if Petronius died, the Count seems
determined never to die at all. (He was at this time about eighty-five
years of age.) It may well be supposed that all this, though now
perfectly vapid and uninteresting, was extremely flattering to
Grammont; and the result was, that he very much wished to have his

life, or part of it, at least, given to the public. Hamilton, who had been
so long connected with him, and with whose agreeable talents he was
now so familiarized, was, on every account, singled out by him as the
person who could best introduce him historically to the public. It is
ridiculous to mention Grammont as the author of his own Memoirs: his
excellence, as a man of wit, was entirely limited to conversation. Bussy
Rabutin, who knew him perfectly, states that he wrote almost worse
than any one. If this was said, and very truly, of him in his early days, it
can hardly be imagined that he would, when between eighty and ninety
years of age, commence a regular, and, in point of style, most finished
composition. Besides, independent of everything else, what man would
so outrage all decorum as to call himself the admiration of the age? for
so is Grammont extolled in the Memoirs, with a variety of other
encomiastic expressions; although, perhaps, such vanity has not been
without example. Hamilton, it is true, says