ry to
mention this lady particularly, as well as her sisters: they were the
daughters of Henry Bulkeley, son to the first viscount of that name:
their father had been master of the household to Charles: their mother
was Lady Sophia Stewart, sister to the beautiful Duchess of Richmond,
so conspicuous in the Grammont Memoirs. The sisters of the Duchess of
Berwick were Charlotte, married to Lord Clare, Henrietta, and Laura.
They all occupy a considerable space in Hamilton's correspondence, and
the two last are the ladies so often addressed as the Mademoiselles B.;
they are almost the constant subjects of Hamilton's verses; and it is
recorded that he was a particular admirer of Henrietta Bulkeley; but
their union would have been that of hunger and thirst, for both were
very poor and very illustrious: their junction would, of course, have
militated against every rule of common prudence. To the influence of
this lady, particularly, we are indebted for one or two of Hamilton's
agreeable novels: she had taste enough to laugh at the extravagant
stories then so much in fashion, "plus arabes qu'en Arabie," as Hamilton
says; and he, in compliance with her taste, and his own, soon put
the fashionable tales to flight, by the publication of the 'Quatre
Facardins', and, more especially, 'La Fleur d'Epine'.

[They were wretched imitations of some of the Persian and Arabian
tales, in which everything was distorted, and rendered absurd and
preposterous.]

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, i