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THE DIARY AND LETTERS
OF
MADAME D'ARBLAY
(FRANCES BURNEY.)
WITH NOTES BY W. C. WARD,
AND PREFACED BY LORD MACAULAY'S ESSAY.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. 2.
(1787-1792.)
WITH AN ENGRAVING OF GEORGE III., QUEEN CHARLOTTE,
AND THEIR FAMILY.
LONDON: VIZETELLY & CO., 16, HENRIETTA STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.
1891.
PRINTED BY J. S. VIRTUE & COMPANY, LONDON,
CITY ROAD.
10. (1787) COURT DUTIES AT ST. JAMES'S AND WINDSOR --9-48
The Queen's Birthday Drawing Room--A Serious Dilemma--Counsels of
a Court Official--Mr. Turbulent's Anxiety to Introduce Mr.
Wellbred--Colonel Wellbred is received at Tea--Eccentric Mr.
Bryant--Mr. Turbulent in a New Character--Bantering a Princess-
-Mr. Turbulent meets with a Rebuff--A Surprise at the Play--The
King's Birthday--The Equerries: Colonel Manners--The Duchess de
Polignac at Windsor--Colonel Manners' Musical Accomplishments-
-Mrs. Schwellenberg's "Lump of Leather"--Mrs. Schwellenberg's
Frogs--Mr. Turbulent's Antics.
11 (1787-8) COURT DUTIES: SOME VARIATIONS IN THEIR ROUTINE--49-85
Meeting of the two Princes--Bunbury, the Caricaturist--Mrs.
Siddons proves disappointing on near acquaintance--Mr. Fairly's
Bereavement--Troublesome Mr. Turbulent--A Conceited Parson--Mr.
Turbulent becomes a Nuisance--Dr. Herschel and his Sister--Gay
and Entertaining Mr. Bunbury--The Prince of Wales at Windsor
again--False Rumours of Miss Burney's Resignation--Tyrannical
Mrs. Schwellenberg--Mrs. Schwellenberg's Capriciousness--New
Year's Day--Chatty Mr. Bryant again--Dr. Johnson's Letters to
Mrs. Thrale discussed--A Pair of Paragons--Mr. Turbulent's Self
Condemnation--Miss Burney among her Old Friends--Some Trivial
Court Incidents.
12 (1788) THE TRIAL OF WARREN HASTINGS--86-153
Westminster Hall at the opening of the Hastings Trial--Warren
Hastings appears at the Bar--The Lord Chancellor's Speech--The
Reading of the Charges commenced--An Old Acquaintance--William
Windham, Esq., M.P.--Windham inveighs against Warren Hastings-
-Miss Burney Battles for the Accused--A Wearied M.P.--Mr.
Crutchley reappears--Mr. Windham discusses the Impeachment-
-Windham affects to commiserate Hastings--Miss Burney is again
present at Hastings's Trial--Burke's Speech in support of the
Charges--Further Conversation with Mr. Windham--Miss Fuzilier
likely to become Mrs. Fairly--The Hastings Trial again: Mr. Fox
in a Rage--Mrs. Crewe, Mr. Burke and Mr. Windham--Miss Burney's
Unbiassed Sentiments--Burke and Sheridan meet with Cold
Receptions--At Windsor again--Death of Mrs. Delany--The
page vi
Hastings Trial and Mr. Windham again--"The Queen is so kind"--
Personal Resemblance between Windham and Hastings--Death of Young
Lady Mulgrave--Again at Windsor--Another Meeting with Mr.
Crutchley--Mr. Turbulent's troublesome Pleasantries--Colonel
Fairly and Second Attachments.
13. (1788) ROYAL VISIT TO CHELTENHAM--154--219
The Royal Party and their Suite--Loyalty not Damped by the Rain-
-Arrival at Fauconberg Hall--The Tea-Table Difficulty--A
t`ete-`a-t`ete wit" Colonel Fairly--The King's
Gentlemen and the Queen's Ladies--Royalty Crowded at Fauconberg
Hall--At the wells--Conversation and Flirtation with Colonel
Fairly--Miss Burney meets an old Friend--Colonel Fairly again--A
Visit to miss Palmer--"Original Love Letters"--The Founder of
Sunday Schools criticised--On the Walks--An Unexpected Visitor--
Courts and Court Life--The Vindictive Baretti--speculations upon
Colonel Fairly's Re-marrying--Colonel Fairly again presents
Himself--The Colonel and the "Original Love Letters"--The Gout
and the Love Letters again--A Dinner with Colonel Fairly and Miss
Planta--Royal Concern for the Colonel's Gout--young Republicans
Converted--The Princes' Animal Spirits--The Duke of York: Royal
Visit to the Theatre--An uncourtly visitor--Mr. Fairly reads
"Akenside" to Miss Burney--The Doctor's Embarrassment--From Grave
to Gay--A Visit to Worcester--The Queen and Mr. Fairly--Mr.
Fairly Moralizes--Major Price is tired of Retirement--The Return
to Windsor--At Windsor again: The Canon and Mrs. Schwellenberg--
Compliments from a famous Foreign Astronomer--The Prince eyes
miss Burney curiously--Colonel manners's Beating--mr. Fairly is
Discussed by his Brother Equerries--Baron Trenck: Mr. Turbulent's
Raillery--Amiable Mrs. Schwellenberg again--A Royal Joke--Colonel
Goldsworthy's Breach of Etiquette--Illness of Mrs. Schwellenberg-
-General Grenville's Regiment at Drill.
14. (1788-9) THE KING'S ILLNESS--220-299
Uncertain State of the King's Health--The King complains
of Want of Sleep--Distress of the Queen--First Outburst of the
King's Delirium--An Anxious Night--The King's Delirious
Condition-The King refuses to see Dr. Warren--The Queen's anxiety
to hear Dr. Warren's opinion--The Queen removes to more distant
Apartments--A Visit from Mr. Fairly--The King's Night Watchers--A
Change in Miss Burney's Duties--Mr. Fairly Succeeds in Soothing
the King--New Arrangements--The Princess Augusta's Birthday--
Strange Behaviour of the First Gentleman in Europe--Stringent New
Regulations--Mrs. Schwellenberg is back again--Public Prayers for
the King decided upon--Sir Lucas Pepys On the King's Condition-
Further Changes at the Lodge--Mr. Fairly and the Learned Ladies--
Reports on the King's Condition--Mr. Fairly thinks the King
Page vii
needs Stricter Management--Mr. Fairly wants a Change--Removal of
the King to Kew determined upon--A Privy Council held--The
Removal to Kew--A Mysterious Visitor--The King's Arrival--The
Arrangements at Kew Palace--A Regency hinted at--Mr. Fairly's
Kind Offices--Mrs. Schwellenberg's Parlour--A new Physician
Summoned--Mrs. Schwellenberg's Opinion of Mr. Fairly--The King's
varying Condition--Dr. Willis and his Son--Learning in Women--The
Queen and Mr. Fairly's Visits-A Melancholy Birthday--Mr. Fairly
on Fans--Mr. Fairly continues his Visits: the Queen again Remarks
upon them--The Search for Mr. Fairly--Miss Burney's Alarm on
being chased by the King--A Royal Salute and Royal Confidences--
Curiosity regarding Miss Burney's meeting with the King--The
Regency Bill--Infinitely Licentious!--Miss Burney is taxed with
Visiting Gentlemen--Improvement in the King's Health--Mr. Fairly
and Mr. Windham--The King continues to improve--The King's Health
is completely Restored.
15. (1789) THE KING'S RECOVERY: ROYAL VISIT TO WEYMOUTH--300-333
The King's Reappearance--An Airing and its Consequences--
Illuminations on the King's Recovery--Mr. Fairly on Miss Burney's
Duties--A Visit from Miss Fuzilier--A Command from Her Majesty-
-Colonel Manners mystifies Mrs. Schwellenberg--The Sailor
Prince--Loyal Reception of the King in the New Forest--The Royal
journey to Weymouth--Welcome to Weymouth--The Royal Plunge with
Musical honours--"You must Kneel, Sir!"--Royal doings in and
about Weymouth--A Patient Audience--A Fatiguing but Pleasant
Day--Lulworth Castle--The Royal Party at the Assembly Rooms--A
journey to Exeter and Saltram--May "One" come in?--An Excursion
to Plymouth Dockyard--A Visit to a Seventy-four--A Day at Mount
Edgecumbe--Mr. Fairly on a Court Life--A Brief Sojourn at
Longleat--Tottenham Court: Return to Windsor.
16. (1789-90) MR. FAIRLY'S MARRIAGE: THE HASTINGS TRIAL--334-365
Rumours of Mr. Fairly's impending Marriage--A Royal Visit to the
Theatre: jammed in the Crowd--In the Manager's Box--Mr. Fairly's
Marriage imminent--Court Duties discussed--Mr. Fairly's Strange
Wedding--Renewal of the Hastings Trial: A Political Impromptu--An
Illbred Earl of Chesterfield--Miss Burney in a New Capacity--The
long-forgotten Tragedy: Miss Burnei again as Reader--Colonel
Manners in his Senatorial Capacity--A Conversation with Mr.
Windham at the Hastings Trial--A Glimpse of Mrs. Piozzi--Captain
Burney wants a Ship to go to Court--Captain Burney and Mr.
Windham--Mr. Windham speaks on a Legal Point--An Emphatic
Peroration-An Aptitude for Logic and for Greek--More Talk with
Mr. Windham.
Page viii
17. (1790-1) MISS BURNEY RESIGNS HER PLACE AT COURT--366-409
A Melancholy Confession--Captain Burney's Laconic Letter and
Interview--Burke's Speech on the French Revolution--An Awkward
Meeting--A New Visit from Mrs. Fairly--One Tragedy Finished and
Another Commenced--Miss Burney's Resignation Memorial--Mr.
Windham Intervenes--An Amusing Interview with Mr. Boswell--Ill,
Unsettled, and Unhappy--A Medical Opinion on Miss Burney's
Condition--Miss Burney breaks the Matter to the Queen--The
Memorial and Explanatory Note--The Keeper of the Robes'
Consternation--Leave of Absence is Suggested--A Royal Gift to the
Master of the Horse--Conferences with the Queen--Miss Burney
determines on Seclusion--The Hastings Trial Resumed: The Accused
makes his Defence--Mr. Windham is Congratulated on his Silence--
Miss Burney makes her Report--Prince William insists on the
King's Health being Drunk--The Queen's Health--The Procession to
the Ball-room: Absence of the Princes--Boswell's Life of
johnson--The Close of Miss Burney's Court Duties--Miss Burney's
Successor: A Pension from the Queen--Leavetakings--Farewell to
Kew--The Final Parting.
18. (1791-2) REGAINED LIBERTY--410-468
Released from Duty--A Western journey: Farnham Castle--A Party of
French Fugitives--Winchester Cathedral--Stonehenge, Wilton, and
Milton Abbey--Lyme and Sidmouth--Sidmouth Loyalty--Powderham
Castle and Collumpton Church--Glastonbury Abbey--Wells
Cathedral--Bath Revisited--A Visit from Lady Spencer--Bath Sunday
Schools--Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire--Bishop Percy--The
Duchess of Devonshire again--Dr. Burney's Conversation with Mr.
Burke: Remarks by Miss Burney--Literary Recreation--Sir Joshua
Reynoldsls Blindness--Among Old Friends--A Summons from the
Queen--Mr. Hastings's Defence--Diverse Views--Mr. Law's Speech
Discussed--Mr. Windham on the French National Assembly--"A
Barbarous Business!"--Death of Sir Joshua Reynolds--Mr. Windham
twitted on his Lack of Compassion--A Point of Ceremonial--Mrs.
Schwellenberg and Mlle. Jacobi--A Long Talk with the King and
Queen--Madame de Genlis: a Woeful Change--The Weeping Beauty
Again--Madame de la Fite and Mrs. Hastings--The Impetuous Orator-
-Mimicry of Dr. Johnson--The King's Birthday--Mr. Hastings's
Speech--A Well-preserved Beauty--The Burkes--Burke's
Conversational Powers--A Wild Irish Girl--Erskine's Egotism--
Caen-wood---An Adventure with Mrs. Crewe--An Invitation from
Arthur Young.
SECTION 10.
(1787)
COURT DUTIES AT ST. JAMES'S AND WINDSOR.
THE QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY DRAWING ROOM.
January. Go back to the 16th, when I went to town, accompanied
only by Mr. de Luc. I saw my dear father the next morning, who
gave me a poem on the queen's birthday, to present. It was very
pretty; but I felt very awkward in offering it to her, as it was
from so near a relation, and without any particular reason or
motive. Mr. Smelt came and stayed with me almost all the
morning, and soothed and solaced me by his charming converse.
The rest of the day was devoted to milliners, mantua-makers, and
such artificers, and you may easily conjecture how great must be
my fatigue. Nevertheless, when, in the midst of these wasteful
toils, the Princess Augusta entered my room, and asked me, from
the queen, if I should wish to see the ball the next day, I
preferred running the risk of that new fatigue, to declining an
honour so offered: especially as the Princess Augusta was herself
to open the ball.
A chance question this night from the queen, whom I now again
attended as usual, fortunately relieved me from my embarrassment
about the poem. She inquired of me if my father was still
writing? "A little," I answered, and the next morning, Thursday,
the 18th, when the birth-day was kept, I found her all sweetness
and serenity; mumbled out my own little compliment, which she
received as graciously as if she had understood and heard it; and
then,
Page 10
when she was dressed, I followed her through the great rooms, to
get rid of the wardrobe woman, and there taking the poem from my
pocket, I said "I told your majesty that my father had written a
little!--and here--the little is!"
She took it from me with a smile and a curtsey, and I ran off.
She never has named it since; but she has spoken of my father
with much sweetness and complacency. The modest dignity of the
queen, upon all subjects of panegyric, is truly royal and noble.
I had now, a second time, the ceremony of being entirely new
dressed. I then went to St. James's, where the queen gave a very
gracious approbation of my gewgaws, and called upon the king to
bestow the same; which his constant goodhumour makes a matter of
great ease to him.
The queen's dress, being for her own birthday, was extremely
simple, the style of dress considered. The king was quite
superb, and the Princesses Augusta and Elizabeth were ornamented
with much brilliancy.
Not only the princess royal was missed at this exhibition, but
also the Prince of Wales. He wrote, however, his congratulations
to the queen, though the coldness then subsisting between him and
his majesty occasioned his absence from Court. I fear it was
severely felt by his royal mother, though she appeared composed
and content.
The two princesses spoke very kind words, also, about my frippery
on this festival; and Princess Augusta laid her positive commands
upon me that I should change my gown before I went to the lord
chamberlain's box, where only my head could be seen. The counsel
proved as useful as the consideration was amiable.
When the queen was attired, the Duchess of Ancaster was admitted
to the dressing room, where she stayed, in conversation with
their majesties and the princesses, till it was time to summon
the bed-chamber women. During this, I had the office of holding
the queen's train. I knew, for me, it was a great honour, yet it
made me feel, once more, so like a mute upon the stage, that I
could scarce believe myself only performing my own real
character.
Mrs. Stainforth and I had some time to stand upon the stairs
before the opening of the doors. We joined Mrs. Fielding and her
daughters, and all entered together, but the crowd parted us -
they all ran on, and got in as they could, and I
Page 11
remained alone by the door. They soon found me out, and made
signs to me, which I saw not, and then they sent me messages that
they had kept room for me just by them. I had received orders
from the queen to go out at the end of the second country dance ;
I thought, therefore, that as I now was seated by the door, I had
better be content, and stay where I could make my exit in a
moment, and without trouble or disturbance. A queer-looking old
lady sat next me, and I spoke to her now and then, by way of
seeming to belong to somebody. She did not appear to know
whether it were advisable for her to answer me or not, seeing me
alone, and with high head ornaments; but as I had no plan but to
save appearances to the surrounders, I was perfectly satisfied
that my very concise propositions should meet with yet more
laconic replies.
Before we parted, however, finding me quiet and inoffensive, she
became voluntarily sociable, and I felt so much at home, by being
still in a part of the palace, that I needed nothing further than
just so much notice as not to seem an object to be avoided.
The sight which called me to that spot perfectly answered all my
expectations: the air, manner, and countenance of the queen, as
she goes round the circle, are truly graceful and engaging: I
thought I could understand, by the motion of her lips, and the
expression of her face, even at the height and distance of the
chamberlain's box, the gracious and pleasant speeches she made to
all whom she approached. With my glass, you know, I can see just
as other people see with the naked eye.
The princesses looked extremely lovely, and the whole Court was
in the utmost splendour.
A SERIOUS DILEMMA.
At the appointed moment I slipped through the door, leaving my
old lady utterly astonished at my sudden departure, and I passed,
alone and quietly, to Mr. Rhamus's apartment, which was
appropriated for the company to wait in. Here I desired a
servant I met with to call my man: he was not to be found. I
went down the stairs, and made them call him aloud, by my name;
all to no purpose. Then the chairmen were called, but called
also in vain!
What to do I knew not ; though I was still in a part of the
Page 12
palace, it was separated by many courts, avenues, passages, and
alleys, from the queen's or my own apartments- and though I had
so lately passed them, I could not remember the way, nor at that
late hour could I have walked, dressed as I then was, and the
ground wet with recent rain, even if I had had a servant: I had
therefore ordered the chair allotted me for these days; but chair
and chairmen and footmen were alike out of the way.
My fright lest the queen should wait for me was very serious. I
believe there are state apartments through which she passes, and
therefore I had no chance to know when she retired from the
ball-room. Yet could I not stir, and was forced to return to the
room whence I came, in order to wait for John, that I might be
out of the way of the cold winds which infested the hall.
I now found a young clergyman, standing by the fire. I suppose
my anxiety was visible, for he instantly inquired if he could
assist me. I declined his offer, but walked up and down, making
frequent questions about my chair and John.
He then very civilly said, "You seem distressed, ma'am; would you
permit me the honour to see for your chair, or, if it is not
come, as you seem hurried, would you trust me to see you home?"
I thanked him, but could not accept his services. He was sorry,
he said, that I refused him, but could not wonder, as he was a
stranger. I made some apologising answer, and remained in that
unpleasant situation till, at length, a hackneychair was procured
me. My new acquaintance would take no denial to handing me to
the chair. When I got in, I told the men to carry me to the
palace.
"We are there now!" cried they; "what part of the palace?"
I was now in a distress the most extraordinary : I really knew
not my own direction! I had always gone to my apartment in a
chair, and had been carried by chairmen officially appointed;
and, except that it was in St. James's palace, I knew nothing of
my own situation.
"Near the park," I told them, and saw my new esquire look utterly
amazed at me.
"Ma'am," said he, " half the palace is in the park."
"I don't know how to direct," cried I, in the greatest
embarrassment, "but it is somewhere between Pall Mall and the
park."
Page 13
"I know where the lady lives well enough," cried one of the
chairmen, "'tis in St. James's street."
"No, no," cried I, "'tis in St. James's palace."
"Up with the chair!" cried the other man, "I know best--'tis in
South Audley-street; I know the lady well enough."
Think what a situation at the moment! I found they had both been
drinking the queen's health till they knew not what they said and
could with difficulty stand. Yet they lifted me up, and though I
called in the most terrible fright to be let out, they carried me
down the steps.
I now actually screamed for help, believing they would carry me
off to South Audley-street; and now my good genius, who had
waited patiently in the crowd, forcibly stopped the chairmen, who
abused him violently, and opened the door himself, and I ran back
to the hall.
You may imagine how earnestly I returned my thanks for this most
seasonable assistance, without which I should almost have died
with terror, for where they might have taken or dropped me, or
how or where left me, who could say?
He begged me to go again upstairs, but my apprehension about the
queen prevented me. I knew she was to have nobody but me, and
that her jewels, though few, were to be intrusted back to the
queen's house to no other hands. I must, I said, go, be it in
what manner it might. All I could devise was to summon Mr.
Rhamus, the page. I had never seen him, but my attendance upon
the queen would be an apology for the application, and I
determined to put myself under his immediate protection.
Mr. Rhamus was nowhere to be found ; he was already supposed to
be gone to the queen's house, to wait the arrival of his majesty.
This news redoubled my fear; and now my new acquaintance desired
me to employ him in making inquiries for me as to the direction I
wanted.
It was almost ridiculous, in the midst of my distress, to be thus
at a loss for an address to myself! I felt averse to speaking my
name amongst so many listeners, and only told him he would much
oblige me by finding out a direction to Mrs. Haggerdorn's rooms.
He went upstairs ; and returning, said he could now direct the
chairmen, if I did not fear trusting them.
I did fear--I even shook with fear; yet my horror of
disappointing the queen upon such a night prevailed over all my
reluctance, and I ventured once more into the chair, thanking
this excellent Samaritan, and begging him to give the direction
very particularly.
Page 14
Imagine, however, my gratitude and my relief, when, instead of
hearing the direction, I heard only these words, " Follow me."
And then did this truly benevolent young man himself play the
footman, in walking by the side of the chair till we came to an
alley, when he bid them turn; but they answered him with an oath,
and ran on with me, till the poles ran against a wall, for they
had entered a passage in which there was no outlet! I would fain
have got out, but they would not hear me; they would only pull
the chair back, and go on another way. But my guardian angel
told them to follow him, or not, at their peril ; and then walked
before the chair.
We next came to a court where we were stopped by the sentinels.
They said they had orders not to admit any hackney chairs. The
chairmen vowed they would make way; I called out aloud to be set
down; the sentinels said they would run their bayonets through
the first man that attempted to dispute their orders. I then
screamed out again to be set down, and my new and good friend
peremptorily forced them to stop, and opening the door with
violence, offered me his arm, saying, "You had better trust
yourself with me, ma'am!"
Most thankfully I now accepted what so fruitlessly I had
declined, and I held by his arm, and we walked on together, but
neither of us knew whither, nor the right way from the wrong 1 It
was really a terrible situation.
The chairmen followed us, clamorous for money, and full of abuse.
They demanded half a crown - my companion refused to listen to
such an imposition : my shaking hand could find no purse, and I
begged him to pay them what they asked, that they might leave us.
He did ; and when they were gone, I shook less, and was able to
pay that one part of the debt I was now contracting.
We wandered about, heaven knows where, in a way the most alarming
and horrible to myself imaginable: for I never knew where I
was.--It was midnight. I concluded the queen waiting for me.--It
was wet. My head was full dressed. I was under the care of a
total stranger; and I knew not which side to take, wherever we
came. Inquiries were vain. The sentinels alone were in sight,
and they are so continually changed that they knew no more of
Mrs. Haggerdorn than if she had never resided here.
At length I spied a door open, and I begged to enter it at a
venture, for information. Fortunately a person stood in the
passage who instantly spoke to me by my name; I never
Page 15
heard that sound with more glee: to me he was a stranger, but I
suppose he had seen me in some of the apartments. I begged him
to direct me straight to the queen's rooms: he did ; and I then
took leave of my most humane new friend, with a thousand
acknowledgments for his benevolence and services.
Was it not a strange business ? I can never say what an agony Of
fright it cost me at the time, nor ever be sufficiently grateful
for the kind assistance, so providentially afforded me.'
COUNSELS OF A COURT OFFICIAL.
The general directions and counsel of Mr. Smelt, which I have
scrupulously observed ever since, were, in abridgment, these:-
That I should see nobody at all but by appointment. This, as he
well said, would obviate, not only numerous personal
inconveniences to myself, but prevent alike surprises from those
I had no leave to admit, and repetitions of visits from others
who might inadvertently come too often. He advised me to tell
this to my father, and beg it might be spread, as a settled part
of my situation, among all who inquired for me.
That I should see no fresh person whatsoever without an immediate
permission from the queen, nor any party, even amongst those
already authorised, without apprising her of such a plan.
That I should never go out without an immediate application to
her, so that no possible inquiry for me might occasion surprise
or disappointment.
These, and other similar ties, perhaps, had my spirits been
better, I might less readily have acceded to : as it was, I would
have bound myself to as many more.
At length, however, even then, I was startled when Mr. Smelt,
with some earnestness, said, "And, with respect to your parties,
such as you may occasionally have here, you have but one rule for
keeping all things smooth, and all partisans unoffended, at a
distance--which is, to have no men--none!
I stared a little, and made no answer.
"Yes," cried he, "Mr. Locke may be admitted; but him only. Your
father, you know, is of course."
Still I was silent: after a pause of some length, he plumply Yet
with an evidently affected unmeaningness, said, "Mr. Cambridge--
as to Mr. Cambridge--"
I stopped him short at once; I dared not trust to what
Page 16
might follow, and eagerly called Out, "Mr. Cambridge, Sir, I
cannot exclude! So much friendship and kindness I owe, and have
long owed him, that he would go about howling at my ingratitude,
could I seem so suddenly to forget it!"
My impetuosity in uttering this surprised, but silenced him; he
said not a word more, nor did I.
MR. TURBULENT's ANXIETY TO INTRODUCE MR. WELLBRED.
Windsor, Sunday, Jan. 28.-I was too ill to go to church. I was
now, indeed, rarely well enough for anything but absolute and
unavoidable duties ; and those were still painfully and forcibly
performed.
I had only Miss Planta for my guest, and when she went to the
princesses I retired for a quiet and solitary evening to my own
room. But here, while reading, I was interrupted by a tat-tat at
my door. I opened it and saw Mr. Turbulent. . . . He came
forward, and began a gay and animated conversation, with a flow
of spirits and good humour which I had never observed in him
before.
His darling colonel(230) was the subject that he still harped
upon; but it was only with a civil and amusing raillery, not, as
before, with an overpowering vehemence to conquer. Probably,
however, the change in myself might be as observable as in him,--
since I now ceased to look upon him with that distance and
coldness which hitherto he had uniformly found in me.
I must give you a little specimen of him in this new dress.
After some general talk,
"When, ma'am," he said, "am I to have the honour of introducing
Colonel Wellbred to you?"
"Indeed, I have not settled that entirely!"
"Reflect a little, then, ma'am, and tell me. I only wish to know
when."
"Indeed to tell you that is somewhat more than I am able to do; I
must find it out myself, first."
" Well, ma'am, make the inquiry as speedily as possible, I beg.
What say you to now? shall I call him up?
"No, no,--pray let him alone."
"But will you not, at least, tell me your reasons for this
conduct?"
Page 17
"Why, frankly, then, if you will hear them and be quiet, I will
confess them."
I then told him, that I had so little time to myself, that to
gain even a single evening was to gain a treasure; and that I had
no chance but this. "Not," said I, "that I wish to avoid him,
but to break the custom of constantly meeting with the
equerries."
"But it is impossible to break the custom, ma'am; it has been so
always: the tea-table has been the time of uniting the company,
ever since the king came to Windsor."
" Well, but everything now is upon a new construction. I am not
positively bound to do everything Mrs. Haggerdorn did, and his
having drank tea with her will not make him conclude he must also
drink tea with me."
No, no, that is true, I allow. Nothing that belonged to her can
bring conclusions round to you. But still, why begin with
Colonel Wellbred? You did not treat Colonel Goldsworthy so?"
"I had not the power of beginning with him. I did what I could,
I assure you."
"Major Price, ma'am?--I never heard you avoided him."
"No; but I knew him before I came, and he knew much of my family,
and indeed I am truly sorry that I shall now see no more of him.
But Colonel Wellbred and I are mutually strangers."
"All people are so at first, every acquaintance must have a
beginning."
"But this, if you are quiet, we are most willing should have
none."
"Not he, ma'am--he is not so willing; he wishes to come. He
asked me, to-day, if I had spoke about it."
I disclaimed believing this; but he persisted in asserting it,
adding "For he said if I had spoke he would come."
"He is very condescending," cried I, "but I am satisfied he would
not think of it at all, if you did not put it in his head."
"Upon my honour, You are mistaken; we talk just as much of it
down there as up here."
"you would much oblige me if you would not talk of it,- neither
there nor here."
"Let me end it, then, by bringing him at once!"
"No, no, leave us both alone: he has his resources and his
engagements as much as I have; we both are best as we now are."
Page 18
"But what can he say, ma'am? Consider his confusion and disgrace!
It is well known, in the world, the private life that the royal
family live at Windsor, and who are the attendants that belong to
them; and when Colonel Wellbred quits his waiting--three months'
waiting and is asked how he likes Miss Burney, he must answer he
has never seen her! And what, ma'am, has Colonel Wellbred done to
merit such a mortification?"
It was impossible not to laugh at such a statement of the case;
and again he requested to bring him directly. "One quarter of an
hour will content me ; I only wish to introduce him--for the sake
of his credit in the world; and when once you have met, you need
meet no more; no consequences whatever need be drawn to the
detriment of your solitude."
I begged him to desist, and let us both rest.
"But have you, yourself, ma'am, no curiosity--no desire to see
Colonel Wellbred?"
"None in the world."
"If, then, hereafter you admit any other equerry--"
"No, no, I intend to carry the new construction throughout."
"Or if you suffer anyone else to bring you Colonel Wellbred."
"Depend upon it I have no such intention."
"But if any other more eloquent man prevails--"
" Be assured there is no danger."
"Will you, at least, promise I shall be present at the meet--?"
" There will be no meeting."
"You are certainly, then, afraid of him?"
I denied this, and, hearing the king's supper called, he took his
leave ; though not before I very seriously told him that, however
amusing all this might be as pure badinage, I Should
be very earnestly vexed if he took any steps in the matter
without my consent.
COLONEL WELLBRED IS RECEIVED AT TEA.
Feb. 2.-MISS Planta came to tea, and we went together to the
eating-parlour, which we found quite empty. Mr. Turbulent's
studious table was all deserted, and his books laid waste; but in
a very few minutes he entered again, with his arms spread wide,
his face all glee, and his voice all triumph, calling out,
Page 19
"Mr. Smelt and Colonel Wellbred desire leave to wait upon miss
Burney to tea!"
A little provoked at this determined victory over my will and my
wish, I remained silent,- but Miss Planta broke forth into open
upbraidings:
"Upon my word, Mr. Turbulent, this is really abominable it is all
your own doing--and if I was Miss Burney I would not bear it!"
and much more, till he fairly gave her to understand she had
nothing to do with the matter.
Then, turning to me, "What am I to say, ma'am? am I to tell
Colonel Wellbred you hesitate?" He protested he came upon the
embassy fairly employed.
"Not fairly, I am sure, Mr. Turbulent The whole is a device and
contrivance of your own! Colonel Wellbred would have been as
quiet as myself, had you left him alone."
"Don't throw it all upon me, ma'am; 'tis Mr. Smelt. But what are
they to think of this delay? are they to suppose it requires
deliberation whether or not you can admit a gentleman to your
tea-table?"
I begged him to tell me, at least, how it had passed, and in what
manner he had brought his scheme about. But he would give me no
satisfaction; he only said "You refuse to receive him, ma'am?--
shall I go and tell him you refuse to receive him?"
"O No,
This was enough -. he waited no fuller consent, but ran off.
Miss Planta began a good-natured repining for me. I determined
to fetch some work before they arrived; and in coming for it to
my own room, I saw Mr. Turbulent, not yet gone downstairs. I
really believe, by the strong marks of laughter on his
countenance, that he had stopped to compose himself before he
could venture to appear in the equerryroom!
I looked at him reproachfully, and passed on; he shook his head
at me in return, and hied downstairs. I had but just time to
rejoin Miss Planta when he led the way to the two Other
gentlemen: entering first, with the most earnest curiosity, to
watch the scene. Mr. Smelt followed, introducing the colonel.
I could almost have laughed, so ridiculous had the behaviour of
Mr. Turbulent, joined to his presence and watchfulness, rendered
this meeting; and I saw in Colonel Wellbred the most evident
marks of similar sensations: for he coloured
Page 20
violently on his entrance, and seemed in an embarrassment that,
to any one who knew not the previous tricks of Mr. Turbulent,
must have appeared really distressing. And, in truth, Mr. Smelt
himself, little imagining what had preceded the interview, was so
much struck with his manner and looks, that he conceived him to
be afraid of poor little me, and observed, afterwards, with what
"blushing diffidence" he had begun the acquaintance!
I, who saw the true cause through the effect, felt more provoked
than ever with Mr. Turbulent, since I was now quite satisfied he
had been as busy with the colonel about me, as with me about the
colonel.
He is tall, his figure is very elegant, and his face very
handsome: he is sensible, well-bred, modest, and intelligent. I
had always been told he was very amiable and accomplished, and
the whole of his appearance confirmed the report.
The discourse was almost all Mr. Smelt's, the colonel was silent
and reserved, and Mr. Turbulent had resolved to be a mere
watchman. The king entered early and stayed late, and took away
with him, on retiring, all the gentlemen.
Feb. 3.-As the tea hour approached, to-day, Mr. Turbulent grew
very restless. I saw what was passing in his mind, and therefore
forbore ordering tea; but presently, and suddenly, as if from
some instant impulse, he gravely came up to me, and said
"Shall I go and call the colonel, ma'am?"
"No, sir!" was my johnsonian reply.
"What, ma'am!--won't you give him a little tea?"
"No, no, no!--I beg you will be at rest!"
He shrugged his shoulders, and walked away; and Mr. Smelt,
smiling, said, "Will you give us any?"
"O yes, surely cried I, and was going away to ring for the man.
I believe I have already mentioned that I had no bell at all,
except in my bedroom, and that only for my maid, whom I was
obliged to summon first, like Smart's monkey--
"Here, Betty!--Nan!--
Go, call the maid, to call the man!"
For Mrs. Haggerdorn had done without, twenty-six years, by always
keeping her servant in waiting at the door. I could never endure
inflicting such a hardship, and therefore had always to run to my
bedroom, and wait the progress of the maid's arrival, and then of
her search of the man, ere ever
Page 21
I could give him an order. A mighty tiresome and inconvenient
ceremony. Mr Turbulent insisted upon saving me this trouble, and
went 'out himself to speak to John. But you will believe me a
little amazed, when, in a very few minutes, he returned again,
accompanied by his colonel! My surprise brought the colour both
into my own cheeks and those of my guests. Mr. Smelt looked
pleased; and Mr. Turbulent, though I saw he was half afraid of
what he was doing, could by no means restrain a most exulting
smile, which was constantly in play during the whole evening.
Mr. Smelt instantly opened a conversation, with an ease and good
breeding which drew every one into sharing it. The colonel was
far less reserved and silent, and I found him very pleasing, very
unassuming, extremely attentive, and sensible and obliging. The
moment, however, that we mutually joined in the discourse, Mr.
Turbulent came to my side, and seating himself there, whispered
that he begged my pardon for the step he had taken. I made him
no answer, but talked on with the colonel and Mr. Smelt. He.
then whispered me again, "I am now certain of your forgiveness,
since I see your approbation!" And when still
I said nothing, he interrupted every speech to the colonel with
another little whisper, saying that his end was obtained, and he
was now quite happy, since he saw he had obliged me!
At length he proceeded so far, with so positive a determination
to be answered, that he absolutely compelled me to say I forgave
him, lest he should go on till the colonel heard him.
ECCENTRIC MR. BRYANT.
Feb. 9-This morning, soon after my breakfast, the princess royal
came to fetch me to the queen. She talked of Mrs. Delany all the
way, and in terms of affection that can never fail to raise her
in the minds of all who hear her. The queen was alone; and told
me she had been so much struck with the Duke of Suffolk's letter
to his son, in the Paston collection,(231)
Page 22
that she wished to hear my opinion of it. She then condescended
to read it to me. It is indeed both instructive and interesting.
She was so gracious, when she dismissed me, as to lend me the
book, desiring me to have it sent back to her apartment when I
went to dinner.
I had invited Mr. Bryant to dinner. He came an hour before, and
I could not read "Paston," but rejoiced the more in his living
intelligence. We talked upon the "Jew's Letters,"
which he had lent me. Have I mentioned them? They are a
mighty well written defence of the Mosaic law and mission,
and as orthodox for Christians as for Jews, with regard to their
main tenor, which is to refute the infidel doctrine of Voltaire
up to the time of our Saviour.
Before our dinner we were joined by 'Mr. Smelt ; and the
conversation was then very good. The same subject was continued,
except where it was interrupted by Mr. Bryant's speaking of his
own works, which was very frequently, and with a droll sort of
simplicity that had a mixture of nature and of humour extremely
amusing. He told us, very frankly his manner of writing; he
confessed that what he first committed to paper seldom
could be printed without variation or correction, even to a
single line: he copied everything over, he said, himself, and
three transcribings were the fewest he could ever make do; but,
generally, nothing went from him to the press under seven.
Mr. Turbulent and Miss Planta came to dinner, and it was very
cheerful. Ere it was over John told me somebody wanted me. I
desired they might be shewn to my room till the things were
removed; but, as these were some time taking away, I called John
to let me know who it was. "The princess royal, ma'am," was his
answer, with perfect ease.
Up I started, ashamed and eager, and flew to her royal highness
instantly : and I found her calmly and quietly waiting, shut up
in my room, without any candles, and almost wholly in the dark,
except from the light of the fire! I made all
possible apologies, and doubled and trebled them upon her
Smilingly saying "I would not let them tell you who it was, nor
hurry you, for I know 'tis so disagreeable to be called
Page 23
away in the middle of dinner." And then, to reconcile me to the
little accident, she took hold of both my hands.
She came to me from the queen, about the "Paston Letters," which
John had not carried to the right page.
Very soon after came the king, who entered into a gay
disquisition with Mr. Bryant upon his school achievements to
which he answered with a readiness and simplicity highly
entertaining.
"You are an Etonian, Mr. Bryant," said the king, "but pray, for
what were you most famous at school?"
We all expected, from the celebrity of his scholarship, to hear
him answer his Latin Exercises but no such thing.
"Cudgelling, Sir. I was most famous for that."
While a general laugh followed this speech, he very gravely
proceeded to particularize his feats though unless you could see
the diminutive figure, the weak, thin, feeble, little frame,
whence issued the proclamation of his prowess, you can but very
Inadequately judge the comic effect of his big talk.
"Your majesty, sir, knows General Conway? I broke his head for
him, sir."
The shout which ensued did not at all interfere with the
steadiness of his further detail.
"And there's another man, Sir, a great stout fellow, Sir, as ever
you saw--Dr. Gibbon, of the Temple: I broke his head too, sir.--I
don't know if he remembers it."
The king, afterwards, inquired after his present family, meaning
his dogs, which he is famed for breeding and preserving.
"Why, sir," he answered, "I have now only twelve. Once, I
recollect, when your majesty was so gracious as to ask me about
them, I happened to have twenty-two; and so I told you, sir.
Upon my word, Sir, it made me very uneasy afterwards when I came
to reflect upon it: I was afraid your majesty might think I
presumed to joke!"
The king then asked him for some account of the Marlborough
family, with which he is very particularly connected and desired
to know which among the young Lady Spencers was his favourite.
"Upon my word, sir, I like them all! Lady Elizabeth is a charming
young lady--I believe, Sir, I am most in her favour; I don't know
why, Sir. But I happened to write a letter to the duke, sir,
that she took a fancy to; I don't know the reason, sir, but she
begged it. I don't know what was in the letter,
Page 24
sir-I could never find out; but she took a prodigious fancy to
it, sir."
The king laughed heartily, and supposed there might be some
compliments to herself in it.
"Upon my word' sir," cried he, "I am afraid your majesty will
think I was in love with her! but indeed, sir, I don't know what
was in the letter."
The converse went on in the same style, and the king was so much
entertained by Mr. Bryant, that he stayed almost the whole
evening,
MR TURBULENT IN A NEW CHARACTER.
Friday, Feb. 16.-The instant I was left alone with Mr. Turbulent
he demanded to know my "project for his happiness;" and he made
his claim in a tone so determined, that I saw it would be
fruitless to attempt evasion or delay.
"Your captivity, then, sir," cried I-"for such I must call your
regarding your attendance to be indispensable is at an end: the
equerry-coach is now wholly in your power. I have spoken myself
upon the subject to the queen, as you bid--at least, braved me to
do; and I have now her consent to discharging you from all
necessity of travelling in our coach."(232)
He looked extremely provoked, and asked if I really meant to
inform him I did not choose his company? I laughed the question
off, and used a world of civil argument to persuade him I had
only done him a good office: but I was fain to make the whole
debate as sportive as possible, as I saw him disposed to be
seriously affronted.
A long debate ensued. I had been, he protested, excessively
ill-natured to him. "What an impression," cried he, "must this
make upon the queen! After travelling, with apparent content, six
years With that oyster Mrs. Haggerdorn--now--now that travelling
is become really agreeable--in that coach --I am to be turned out
of it! How must it disgrace me in her opinion!"
She was too partial, I said, to "that oyster," to look upon the
matter in such a degrading light nor would she think of it
Page 25
at all, but as an accidental matter. I then added, that the
reason that he had hitherto been destined to the female coach
was, that Mrs. Schwellenberg and Mrs. Haggerdorn were always
afraid of travelling by themselves; but that as I had more
courage, there was no need of such slavery.
"Slavery!"--repeated he, with an emphasis that almost startled
me,--"Slavery is pleasure--is happiness--when directed by our
wishes!"
And then, with a sudden motion that made me quite jump, he cast
himself at my feet, on both his knees--
"Your slave," he cried, "I am content to be! your slave I am
ready to live and die!"
I begged him to rise, and be a little less rhapsodic. "I have
emancipated you," I cried; "do not, therefore, throw away the
freedom you have been six years sighing to obtain. You are now
your own agent--a volunteer--"
"If I am," cried he, impetuously, "I dedicate myself to you!--A
volunteer, ma'am, remember that! I dedicate myself to you,
therefore, of my own accord, for every journey! You shall not
get rid of me these twenty years."
I tried to get myself away-but he would not let me move and he
began, with still increasing violence of manner, a most fervent
protestation that he would not be set aside, and that he devoted
himself to me entirely. And, to say the simple truth, ridiculous
as all this was, I really began to grow a little frightened by
his vehemence and his posture - till, at last, in the midst of an
almost furious vow, in which he dedicated himself to me for ever,
he relieved me, by suddenly calling upon Jupiter, Juno, Mars, and
Hercules, and every god, and every goddess, to witness his oath.
And then, content with his sublimity, he arose.
Was it not a curious scene? and have I not a curious fellow
traveller for my little journeys?
Monday, Feb. 19.-This morning I Proposed to my fellow travellers
that we should begin our journey on foot. The wonderment with
which they heard a proposal so new was diverting : but they all
agreed to it; and though they declared that my predecessor, Mrs.
Haggerdorn, would have thought the person fit for Bedlam who
should have suggested such plan, no one could find any real
objection, and off we set, ordering the coach to proceed slowly
after us.
The weather was delightful, and the enterprise served to shorten
and enliven the expedition, and pleased them all,
Page 26
Mr. Turbulent began, almost immediately, an attack about his
colonel : upon quite a new ground, yet as restless and earnest as
upon the old one. He now reproached my attention to him,
protesting I talked to him continually, and spun out into an
hour's discourse what might have been said in three minutes.
"And was it my spinning?" I could not forbear saying.
"Yes, ma'am: for you might have dropped it."
"How?--by not answering when spoken to?"
"by not talking to him, ma'am, more than to any one else."
"And pray, Mr. Turbulent, solve me, then, this difficulty; what
choice has a poor female with whom she may converse? Must she
not, in company as in dancing, take up with those Who choose to
take up with her?"
He was staggered by this question, and while he wavered how to
answer it, I pursued my little advantage--
"No man, Mr. Turbulent, has any cause to be flattered that a
woman talks with him, while it is only in reply; for though he
may come, go, address or neglect, and do as he will,-- she, let
her think and wish what she may, must only follow as he leads."
He protested, with great warmth, he never heard any thing so
proudly said in Ins life. But I would not retract.
"And now, ma'am," he continued, "how wondrous intimate you are
grown! After such averseness to a meeting--such struggles to
avoid him; what am I to think of the sincerity of that pretended
reluctance?"
"You must think the truth," said I, "that it was not the colonel,
but the equerry, I wished to avoid; that it was not the
individual, but the official necessity of receiving company, that
I wished to escape."
BANTERING A PRINCESS.
March 1.- With all the various humours in which I had already
seen Mr. Turbulent, he gave me this evening a surprise, by his
behaviour to one of the princesses, nearly the same that I had
experienced from him myself. The Princess Augusta came, during
coffee, for a knotting shuttle of the queen's. While she was
speaking to me, he stood behind and exclaimed, `a demi voix, as
if to himself, "Comme elle est jolie ce soir, son Altesse
Royale!" And then, seeing her blush extremely, he clasped his
hands, in high pretended confusion,
Page 27
and hiding his head, called Out, "Que ferai-je? The princess has
heard me!"
"Pray, Mr. Turbulent," cried she, hastily, "what play are you to
read to-night?"
"You shall choose, ma'am; either 'La Coquette corrigée,' or--"
[he named another I have forgotten.]
"O no!" cried she, "that last is shocking! don't let me hear
that!"
"I understand you, ma'am. You fix, then, upon 'La Coquette?'
'La Coquette' is your royal highness's taste?"
"No, indeed, I am sure I did not say that."
"Yes, ma'am, by implication. And certainly, therefore, I will
read it, to please your royal highness!"
"No, pray don't; for I like none of them."
"None of them, ma'am?"
"No, none;--no French plays at all!" And away she was running,
with a droll air, that acknowledged she had said something to
provoke him.
"This is a declaration, ma'am, I must beg you to explain!" cried
he, gliding adroitly between the princess and the door, and
shutting it With his back.
"No, no, I can't explain it;--so pray, Mr. Turbulent, do open the
door."
"Not for the world, ma'am, with such a stain uncleared upon your
royal highness's taste and feeling!"
She told him she positively could not stay, and begged him to let
her pass instantly. But he would hear her no more than he has
heard me, protesting he was too much shocked for her, to suffer
her to depart without clearing her own credit!
He conquered at last, and thus forced to speak, she turned round
to us and said, "Well--if I must, then--I will appeal to these
ladies, who understand such things far better than I do, and ask
them if it is not true about these French plays, that they are
all so like to one another, that to hear them in this manner
every night is enough to tire one?"
"Pray, then, madam," cried he, "if French plays have the
misfortune to displease you, what national plays have the honour
Of your preference?"
I saw he meant something that she understood better than me, for
she blushed again, and called out "Pray open the door at once! I
can stay no longer; do let me go, Mr. Turbulent!"
Page 28
"Not till you have answered that question, ma'am' what country
has plays to your royal highness's taste?"
"Miss Burney," cried she impatiently, yet laughing, "pray do you
take him away!--Pull him!"
He bowed to me very invitingly for the office but I frankly
answered her, "Indeed, ma'am, I dare not undertake him! I cannot
manage him at all."
"The country! the country! Princess Augusta! name the happy
country!" was all she could gain.
"Order him away, Miss Burney," cried she. "It is your room:
order him away from the door."
"Name it, ma'am, name it!" exclaimed he; "name but the chosen
nation!"
And then, fixing her with the most provoking eyes, "Est-ce la
Danemarc?" he cried.
She coloured violently, and quite angry with him, called out,
"Mr. Turbulent, how can you be such a fool!" And now I found . .
. the prince royal of Denmark was in his meaning, and in her
understanding!
He bowed to the ground, in gratitude for the term "fool," but
added with pretended Submission to her will, "Very well, ma'am,
s'il ne faut lire que les comédies Danoises."
" Do let me go!" cried she, seriously; and then he made way, with
a profound bow as she passed, saying, "Very well, ma'am, 'La
Coquette,' then? your royal highness chooses 'La Coquette
corrigée?'"
"Corrigée? That never was done!" cried she, with all her sweet
good-humour, the moment she got out - and off she ran, like
lightning, to the queen's apartments.
What say you to Mr. Turbulent now?
For my part, I was greatly surprised. I had not imagined any
man, but the king or Prince of Wales, had ever ventured at a
badinage of this sort with any of the princesses; nor do I
suppose any other man ever did. Mr. Turbulent is so great a
favourite with all the royal family that he safely ventures upon
whatever he pleases, and doubtless they find, in his courage and
his rhodomontading, a novelty extremely amusing to them.
MR. TURBULENT MEETS WITH A REBUFF.
March--I must now, rather reluctantly I own, come to recite a
quarrel, a very serious quarrel, in which I have been involved
with my most extraordinary fellow-traveller. One evening at
Windsor Miss Planta left the room, while I was
Page 29
winding some silk. I was content to stay and finish the skein,
though my remaining companion was in a humour too flighty to
induce me to continue with him a moment longer. Indeed I had
avoided pretty successfully all tête-à-têetes with him since the
time when his eccentric genius led to such eccentric conduct in
our long conference in the last month.
This time, however, when I had done my work, he protested I
should stay and chat with him. I pleaded business--letters--
hurry--all in vain: he would listen to nothing, and when I tried
to move was so tumultuous in his opposition, that I was obliged
to re-seat myself to appease him.
A flow of compliments followed, every one of which I liked less
and less; but his spirits seemed uncontrollable, and, I suppose,
ran away with all that ought to check them. I laughed and
rallied as long as I possibly could, and tried to keep him in
order, by not seeming to suppose he wanted aid for that purpose:
yet still, every time I tried to rise, he stopped me, and uttered
at last Such expressions of homage--so like what Shakspeare says
of the school-boy, who makes "a sonnet on his mistress' eyebrow,"
which is always his favourite theme--that I told him his real
compliment was all to my temper, in imagining it could brook such
mockery.
This brought him once more on his knees, with such a volley of
asseverations of his sincerity, uttered with such fervour and
eloquence, that I really felt uneasy, and used every possible
means to get away from him, rallying him however all the time,
and disguising the consciousness I felt of my inability to quit
him. More and more vehement, however, he grew, till I could be
no longer passive, but forcibly rising, protested I would not
stay another minute. But you may easily imagine my astonishment
and provocation, when, hastily rising himself, he violently
seized hold of me, and compelled me to return to my chair, with a
force and a freedom that gave me as much surprise as offence.
All now became serious. Raillery, good-humour, and even
pretended ease and unconcern, were at an end. The positive
displeasure I felt I made positively known; and the voice
manner, and looks with which I insisted upon an immediate'
release were so changed from what he had ever heard or observed
in me before, that I saw him quite thunderstruck with the
alteration; and all his own violence subsiding, he begged my
pardon with the mildest humility.
He had made me too angry to grant it, and I only desired
Page 30
him to let me instantly go to my room. He ceased all personal
opposition, but going to the door, planted himself before it, and
said, "Not in wrath! I cannot let you go away in wrath!"
"You must, sir," cried I, "for I am in wrath!"
He began a thousand apologies, and as many promises of the most
submissive behaviour in future; but I stopped them all, with a
peremptory declaration that every minute he detained me made me
but the more seriously angry. His vehemence now was all changed
into strong alarm, and he opened the door, profoundly bowing, but
not speaking, as I passed him.
I am sure I need not dwell upon the uncomfortable sensations I
felt, in a check so rude and violent to the gaiety and
entertainment of an acquaintance which had promised me my best
amusement during our winter campaigns. I was now to begin upon
quite a new system, and instead of encouraging, as hitherto I had
done, everything that could lead to vivacity and spirit, I was
fain to determine upon the most distant and even forbidding
demeanour with the only life of our parties, that he might not
again forget himself.
This disagreeable conduct I put into immediate practice. I
stayed in my own room till I heard every one assembled in the
next : I was then obliged to prepare for joining them, but before
I opened the door a gentle rap at it made me call out "Who's
there?" and Mr. Turbulent looked in.
I hastily said I was coming instantly, but he advanced softly
into the room, entreating forgiveness at every step. I made no
other answer than desiring he would go, and saying I should
follow. He went back to the door, and, dropping on one knee,
said, "Miss Burney! surely you cannot be seriously angry?-'tis so
impossible you should think I meant to offend you!"
I said nothing, and did not look near him, but opened the door,
from which he retreated to make way for me, rising a little
mortified, and exclaiming, "Can you then have such real
ill-nature? How little I suspected it in you!"
"'Tis you," cried I, as I passed on, "that are ill-natured!"
I meant for forcing me into anger; but I left him to make the
meaning out, and walked into the next room. He did not
immediately follow, and he then appeared so much disconcerted
that I saw Miss Planta incessantly eyeing him, to find out what
was the matter. I assumed an unconcern I did not
Page 31
feel for I was really both provoked and sorry, foreseeing what a
breach this folly must make in the comfort of my Windsor
expeditions,
He sat down a little aloof, and entered into no
conversation all the evening;
but just as tea was over, the hunt of the next being mentioned
he suddenly, asked Miss Planta to request leave for him of the
queen to ride out with the party.
"I shall not see the queen," cried she; "you had much better ask
Miss Burney."
This was very awkward. I was in no humour to act for him at this
time, nor could he muster courage to desire it; but upon Miss
Planta's looking at each of us with some surprise, and repeating
her amendment to his proposal, he faintly said, "Would Miss
Burney be so good as to take that trouble?"
An opportunity offering favourably, I spoke at night to the
queen, and she gave leave for his attending the chase. I
intended to send this permission to Miss Planta, but I had scarce
returned to my own room from her majesty, before a rap at my door
was followed by his appearance. He stood quite aloof,
looking grave and contrite. I Immediately called out "I have
spoken, sir, to the queen, and you have her leave to go."
He bowed very profoundly, and thanked me, and was retreating, but
came back again, and advancing, assumed an air of less humility,
and exclaimed, "Allons donc, Mademoiselle, j'espère que vous
n'êtes plus si méchante qu'hier au soir!"
I said nothing; he came nearer, and, bowing upon his own hand,
held it out for mine, with a look of most respectful
Supplication. I had no intention of cutting the matter so short,
yet from shame to sustain resentment, I was compelled to hold out
a finger: he took it with a look of great gratitude, and very
reverently touching the tip of my glove with his lip, instantly
let it go, and very solemnly said, "Soyez sûr que je n'ai
jamais eu la moindre idée de vous offenser." and then he thanked
me again for his licence, and went his way.
A SURPRISE AT THE PLAY.
I had the pleasure of two or three visits from Mr. Bryant, whose
loyal regard for the king and queen makes him eagerly accept
every invitation, from the hope of seeing them in my room; and
one of the days they both came in to speak to him, and were
accompanied by the two eldest princesses, who stood
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chatting with me by the door the whole time, and saying comical
things upon royal personages in tragedies, particularly Princess
Augusta, who has a great deal of sport in her disposition. She
very gravely asserted she thought some of those princes on the
stage looked really quite as well as some she knew off it.
Once about this time I went to a play myself, which surely I may
live long enough and never forget. It was "Seduction," a very
clever piece, but containing a dreadful picture of vice and
dissipation in high life, written by Mr. Miles Andrews, with an
epilogue--O, such an epilogue! I was listening to it with
uncommon attention, from a compliment paid in it to Mrs. Montagu,
among other female writers; but imagine what became of my
attention when I suddenly was struck with these lines, or
something like them:--
Let sweet Cecilia gain your just applause, Whose every passion
yields to Reason's laws."
To hear, wholly unprepared and unsuspicious, such lines in a
theatre--seated in a royal box--and with the whole royal family
and their suite immediately opposite me--was it not a singular
circumstance? To describe my embarrassment would be impossible.
My whole head was leaning forward, with my opera glass in my
hand, examining Miss Farren, who spoke the epilogue. Instantly I
shrank back, so astonished and so ashamed of my public situation,
that I was almost ready to take to my heels and run, for it
seemed as if I were there purposely in that conspicuous place--
"To list attentive to my own applause."
The king immediately raised his opera-glass to look at me,
laughing heartily--the queen's presently took the same
direction--all the princesses looked up, and all the attendants,
and all the maids of honour!
I protest I was never more at a loss what to do with myself:
nobody was in the front row with me but Miss Goldsworthy, who
instantly seeing how I was disconcerted, prudently and
good-naturedly forbore taking any notice of me. I sat as far
back as I could, and kept my fan against the exposed profile for
the rest of the night, never once leaning forward, nor using my
glass.
None of the royal family spoke to me on this matter till a few
days after; but I heard from Mrs. Delany they had all declared
Page 33
themselves sorry for the confusion it had caused me. And some
time after the queen could not forbear saying, "I hope, Miss
Burney, YOU minded the epilogue the other night?"
And the king, very comically, said, "I took a peep at you!--I
could not help that. I wanted to see how you looked when your
father first discovered your writing--and now I think I know!"
THE KING's BIRTHDAY.
St. James's Palace, June 4-Take a little of the humours of this
day, with respect to myself, as they have arisen. I quitted my
downy pillow at half-past six o'clock, for bad habits in sickness
have lost me half an hour of every morning; and then, according
to an etiquette I discovered but on Friday night, I was quite new
dressed: for I find that, on the king's birthday, and on the
queen's, both real and nominal, two new attires, one half, the
other full dressed, are expected from all attendants that come
into the royal presence.
This first labour was happily achieved in such good time, that I
was just seated to my breakfast--a delicate bit of roll
half-eaten, and a promising dish of tea well stirred--when I
received my summons to attend the queen.
She was only with her wardrobe-woman, and accepted most
graciously a little murmuring congratulation upon the- day, which
I ventured to whisper while she looked another way. Fortunately
for me, she is always quick in conceiving what is meant, and
never wastes time in demanding what is said. She told me she had
bespoke Miss Planta to attend at the grand toilette at St.
James's, as she saw my strength still diminished by my late
illness. Indeed it still is, though in all other respects I am
perfectly well.
The queen wore a very beautiful dress, of a new manufacture, of
worked muslin, thin, fine, and clear, as the chambery gauze. I
attended her from the blue closet, in which she dresses, through
the rooms that lead to the breakfast apartment. In One of these
while she stopped for her hair-dresser to finish her head-dress,
the king joined her. She spoke to him in German, and he kissed
her hand.
The three elder princesses came in soon after: they all went up,
with congratulatory smiles and curtsies, to their royal father,
who kissed them very affectionately; they then, as usual every
Morning, kissed the queen's hand. The door was thrown open
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to the breakfast-room, which is a noble apartment, fitted up with
some of Vandyke's best works; and the instant the king, who led
the way, entered, I was surprised by a sudden sound of music, and
found that a band of musicians were stationed there to welcome
him. The princesses followed, but Princess Elizabeth turned
round to me to say she could hardly bear the sound: it was the
first morning of her coming down to breakfast for many months, as
she had had that repast in her own room ever since her dangerous
illness. It overcame her, she said, more than the dressing, more
than the early rising, more than the whole of the hurry and
fatigue of all the rest of a public birthday. She loves the king
most tenderly; and there is a something in receiving any person
who is loved, by sudden music, that I can easily conceive to be
very trying to the nerves.
Princess Augusta came back to cheer and counsel her; she begged
her to look out at the window, to divert her thoughts, and said
she would place her where the sound might be less affecting to
her.
A lively "How d'ye do, Miss Burney? I hope you are quite well
now?" from the sweet Princess Mary, who was entering the
ante-room, made me turn from her two charming sisters; she passed
on to the breakfast, soon followed by Princess Sophia, and then a
train of their governesses, Miss Goldsworthy, Mademoiselle
Montmoulin, and Miss Gomme, all in full dress, with fans. We
reciprocated little civilities, and I had then the pleasure to
see little Princess Amelia, with Mrs. Cheveley, who brought up
the rear. Never, in tale or fable, were there six sister
princesses more lovely.
As I had been extremely distressed upon the queen's birthday, in
January, where to go or how to act, and could obtain no
information from my coadjutrix, I now resolved to ask for
directions from the queen herself; and she readily gave them, in
a manner to make this day far more comfortable to me than the
last. She bade me dress as fast as I could, and go to St.
James', by eleven o'clock; but first come into the room to her.
Then followed my grand toilette. The hair-dresser was waiting
for me, and he went to work first, and I second, with all our
might and main. When my adorning tasks were accomplished, I went
to the blue closet. No one was there, I then hesitated whether
to go back or seek the queen. I have a dislike insuperable to
entering a royal presence, except by an
Page 35
immediate Summons: however, the directions I had had prevailed,
and I- went into the adjoining apartment. There stood Madame de
la Fite! she was talking in a low voice with M. de Luc. They
told me the queen was in the next room, and on I went.
She was seated at a glass, and the hair-dresser was putting on
her jewels, while a clergyman in his canonicals was standing
near and talking to her. I imagined him some bishop unknown to
me, and stopped; the queen looked round, and called out "it's
Miss Burney!--come in, Miss Burney." in I came, curtseying
respectfully to a bow from the canonicals, but I found not out
till he answered something said by the queen, that it was no
other than Mr. Turbulent.
Madame de la Fite then presented herself at the door (which was
open for air) of the ante-room. The queen bowed to her, and said
she would see her presently: she retired, and her majesty, in a
significant low voice, said to me, "Do go to her, and keep her
there a little!" I obeyed, and being now in no fright nor hurry,
entered into conversation with her sociably and comfortably.
I then went to St. James's. The queen was most brilliant in
attire; and when she was arrayed, Mr. West(233) was allowed to
enter the dressing-room, in order to give his opinion of the
disposition -of her jewels, which indeed were arranged with great
taste and effect.
The three princesses, Princess Royal, Augusta, and Elizabeth,
were all very splendidly decorated, and looked beautiful. They
are indeed uncommonly handsome, each in their different Way-the
princess royal for figure, the Princess Augusta for countenance,
and the Princess Elizabeth for face.
THE EQUERRIES: COLONEL MANNERS.
Friday, June 8-This day we came to Windsor for the Summer, during
which we only go to town for a Drawing-room once a fortnight, and
to Kew in the way. Mrs. Schwellenberg remained in town, not well
enough to move.
The house now was quite full, the king having ordered a party to
it for the Whitsun holidays. This party was Colonel
page 36
Manners, the equerry in waiting; Colonel Ramsden, a good-humoured
and well-bred old officer of the king's household; Colonels
Wellbred and Goldsworthy, and General Budé.
Colonel Ramsden is gentle and pleasing, but very silent; General
Budé is always cheerful, but rises not above a second; Colonel
Hotham has a shyness that looks haughty, and therefore distances;
Colonel Goldsworthy reserves his sport and humour for particular
days and particular favourites; and Colonel Wellbred draws back
into himself unless the conversation promises either instruction
or quiet pleasure; nor would any one of these, during the whole
time, speak at all, but to a next neighbour, nor even then,
except when that neighbour suited his fancy.
You must not, however, imagine we had no public speakers; M. del
Campo harangued aloud to whoever was willing to listen, and
Colonel Manners did the same, without even waiting for that
proviso. Colonel Manners, however, I must introduce to you by a
few specimens: he is so often, in common with all the equerries,
to appear on the scene, that I wish you to make a particular
acquaintance with him.
One evening, when we were all, as usual, assembled, he began a
discourse upon the conclusion of his waiting, which finishes with
the end of June:--"Now I don't think," cried he, "that it's well
managed: here we're all in waiting for three months at a time,
and then for nine months there's nothing!"
"Cry your mercy!" cried Colonel Goldsworthy, "if three months-
-three whole months--are not enough for you, pray take a few more
from mine to make up your market!"
"No, no, I don't mean that;--but why can't we have our waitings
month by month?--would not that be better?"
"I think not!--we should then have no time unbroken."
"Well, but would not that be better than what it is now? Why,
we're here so long, that when one goes away nobody knows one!--
one has quite to make a new acquaintance! Why, when I first come
out of waiting, I never know where to find anybody!"
The Ascot races were held at this time; the royal family were to
be at them one or two of the days. Colonel Manners earnestly
pressed Miss Port to be there. Colonel Goldsworthy said it was
quite immaterial to him who was there, for when he was attending
royalty he never presumed to think of any private comfort.
"Well, I don't see that!" cried Colonel Manners,--"for if
Page 37
I was you, and not in my turn for waiting, I should go about just
as I liked;--but now, as for me, as it happens to be my own turn,
Why I think it right to be civil to the king."
We all looked round;--but Colonel Goldsworthy broke forth aloud--
"Civil, quotha?" cried he; "Ha! ha! civil, forsooth!--You're
mighty condescending!--the first equerry I ever heard talk of his
civility to the king!--'Duty,' and 'respect,' and 'humble
reverence,'--those are words we are used to,--but here come you
with Your civility!----Commend me to such affability!"
you see he is not spared; but Colonel Goldsworthy is the wag
professed of their community, and privileged to say what he
pleases. The other, with the most perfect good-humour, accepted
the joke, without dreaming of taking offence at the sarcasm.
Another evening the king sent for Colonel Ramsden to play at
backgammon.
"Happy, happy man!" exclaimed Colonel Goldsworthy, exultingly;
but scarce had he uttered the words ere he was summoned to follow
himself. "What! already!" cried he,--"without even my tea! Why
this is worse and worse!--no peace in Israel!--only one half hour
allowed for comfort, and now that's swallowed! Well, I must
go;--make my complaints aside, and my bows and smiles in full
face!"
Off he went, but presently, in a great rage, came back, and,
while he drank a hot dish of tea which I instantly presented him,
kept railing at his stars for ever bringing him under a royal
roof. "If it had not been for a puppy," cried he, "I had never
got off even to scald my throat in this manner But they've just
got a dear little new ugly dog: so one puppy gave Way to t'other,
and I just left them to kiss and hug it, while I stole off to
drink this tea! But this is too much!---no peace for a moment!--
no peace in Israel!"
When this was passed, Colonel Wellbred renewed some of the
conversation of the preceding day with me; and, just as he named
Dr. Herschel Colonel Manners broke forth with his dissenting
opinions. "I don't give up to Dr. Herschel at all," cried he;
"he is all system; and so they are all: and if they can but make
out their systems, they don't care a pin for anything else. As
to Herschel, I liked him well enough till he came to his
volcanoes in the moon, and then I gave him up, I saw he was just
like the rest. How should he know anything Of the matter?
There's no such thing as pretending to measure, at such a
distance as that?"
Page 38
Colonel Wellbred, to whom I looked for an answer, instead of
making any, waited in quiet silence till he had exhausted all he
had to say upon the subject, and then, turning to me, made some
inquiry about the Terrace, and went on to other general matters.
But, some time after, when all were engaged, and this topic
seemed quite passed, he calmly began, in general terms, to lament
that the wisest and best of people were always so little honoured
or understood in their own time, and added that he had no doubt
but Sir Isaac Newton had been as much scoffed and laughed at
formerly as Herschel was now; but concluded, in return,
Herschel, hereafter, would be as highly reverenced as Sir Isaac
was at present. . . .
We had then some discourse upon dress and fashions. Virtuosos
being next named, Colonel Manners inveighed against them quite
violently, protesting they all wanted common honour and honesty;
and to complete the happy subject, he instanced, in particular,
Sir William Hamilton, who, he declared, had absolutely robbed
both the king and state of Naples!
After this, somebody related that, upon the heat in the air being
mentioned to Dr. Heberden, he had answered that he supposed it
proceeded from the last eruption in the volcano in the moon:
"Ay," cried Colonel Manners, "I suppose he knows as much of the
matter as the rest of them: if you put a candle at the end of a
telescope, and let him look at it, he'll say, what an eruption
there is in the moon! I mean if Dr, Herschel would do it to him;
I don't say he would think so from such a person as me."
"But Mr. Bryant himself has seen this volcano from the
telescope."
"Why, I don't mind Mr. Bryant any more than Dr. Heberden: he's
just as credulous as t'other."
I wanted to ask by what criterion he settled these points in so
superior a manner:--but I thought it best to imitate the silence
of Colonel Wellbred, who constantly called a new subject, upon
every pause, to avoid all argument and discussion while the
good-humoured Colonel Manners was just as ready to start forward
in the new subject, as he had been in that which had been set
aside.
One other evening I invited Madame de la Fite: but it did not
prove the same thing; they have all a really most undue dislike
of her, and shirk her conversation and fly to one another, to
discourse on hunting and horses.
Page 39
THE DUCHESS DE POLIGNAC AT WINDSOR.
The following Sunday, June 17, I was tempted to go on the
Terrace, in order to se the celebrated Madame de Polignac,(234)
and her daughter, Madame de Guiche. They were to be presented,
with the Duke de Polignac, to their majesties, upon the Terrace.
Their rank entitled them to this distinction; and the Duchess of
Ancaster, to whom they had been extremely courteous abroad, came
to Windsor to introduce them. They were accompanied to the
Terrace by Mrs. Harcourt and the general 'with whom they were
also well acquainted.
They went to the place of rendezvous at six o'clock; the royal
party followed about seven, and was very brilliant upon the
occasion. The king and queen led the way, and the Prince of
Wales, who came purposely to honour the interview, appeared at it
also, in the king's Windsor uniform. Lady Weymouth was in
waiting upon the queen. The Duchess of Ancaster, Lady Charlotte
Bertie, and Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave, with some other ladies, I
think, attended: but the two eldest princesses, to the very great
detriment of the scenery, were ill, and remained at home.
Princess Elizabeth and Mary were alone in the queen's suite.
I went with Miss Port and Mrs. and Miss Heberden. The crowd was
so great, it was difficult to move. Their majesties and their
train occupied a large space, and their attendants
Page 40
had no easy task in keeping them from being incommoded by the
pressing of the people. They stopped to converse with these
noble travellers for more than an hour. Madame la Duchesse de
Polignac is a very well-looking woman, and Madame de Guiche is
very pretty. There were other ladies and gentlemen in their
party. But I was much amused by their dress, which they meant
should be entirely `a l'Angloise--for which purpose they had put
on plain undress gowns, with close ordinary black silk bonnets! I
am sure they must have been quite confused when they saw the
queen and princesses, with their ladies, who were all dressed
with uncommon care, and very splendidly.
But I was glad, at least, they should all witness, and report,
the reconciliation of the king and the Prince of Wales, who
frequently spoke together, and were both in good spirits.
COLONEL MANNERS' MUSICAL ACCOMPLISHMENTS.
Miss Port and myself had, afterwards, an extremely risible
evening with Colonels Goldsworthy, Wellbred, and Manners the rest
were summoned away to the king, or retired to their own
apartments. Colonel Wellbred began the sport, undesignedly, by
telling me something new relative to Dr. Herschel's volcanoes.
This was enough for Colonel Manners, who declared aloud his utter
contempt for such pretended discoveries. He was deaf to all that
could be said in answer, and protested he wondered how any man of
common sense could ever listen to such a pack of stuff.
Mr. de Luc's opinion upon the subject being then mentioned--he
exclaimed, very disdainfully, "O, as to Mr. de Luc, he's another
man for a system himself, and I'd no more trust him than anybody:
if you was only to make a little bonfire, and put it upon a hill
a little way off, you might make him take it for a volcano
directly!--And Herschel's not a bit better. Those sort of
philosophers are the easiest taken in in the world."
Our next topic was still more ludicrous. Colonel Manners asked
me if I had not heard something, very harmonious at church in the
morning? I answered I was too far off, if he meant from himself.
"Yes," said he; "I was singing with Colonel Wellbred; and he said
he was my second.--How did I do that song?"
"Song?--Mercy!" exclaimed Colonel Goldsworthy, "a song at
church!--why it was the 104th Psalm!"
Page 41
"But how did I do it, Wellbred; for I never tried at it before?"
"why--pretty well," answered Colonel Wellbred, very composedly;
"Only now and then you run me a little into 'God save the king.'"
This dryness discomposed every muscle but of Colonel Manners, who
replied, with great simplicity, "Why, that's because that's the
tune I know best!"
"At least," cried I, "'twas a happy mistake to make so near their
majesties."
"But: pray, now, Colonel Wellbred, tell me sincerely)--could you
really make out what I was singing?"
"O yes," answered Colonel Wellbred; "with the words."
"Well, but pray, now, what do you call my voice?"
"Why--a--a--a counter-tenor."
"Well, and is that a good voice?"
There was no resisting,-even the quiet Colonel Wellbred could not
resist laughing out here. But Colonel Manners, quite at his
ease, continued his self-discussion.
"I do think, now, if I was to have a person to play over a thing
to me again and again, and then let me sing it, and stop me every
time I was wrong, I do think I should be able to sing 'God save
the king' as well as some ladies do, that have always people to
show them."
"You have a good chance then here," cried I, "of singing some
pieces of Handel, for I am sure you hear them again and again!"
"Yes, but that is not the thing for though I hear them do it' so
often over, they don't stop for me to sing it after them, and
then to set me right. Now I'll try if you'll know what this is."
He then began humming aloud, "My soul praise," etc., so very
horribly, that I really found all decorum at an end, and laughed,
with Miss Port, `a qui mieux mieux. Too much engaged to mind
this, he very innocently, when he had done, applied to us all
round for our opinions.
Miss Port begged him to sing another, and asked for that he had
spouted the other day, "Care, thou bane of love and joy."
He instantly complied; and went on, in such shocking, discordant
and unmeaning sounds, that nothing in a farce could be more
risible: in defiance however of all interruptions, he Continued
till he had finished one stanza; when Colonel Goldsworthy loudly
called out,--"There,--there's enough!--have mercy!"
Page 42
"Well, then, now I'll try something else."
"O, no!" cried Colonel Goldsworthy, hastily, "thank you, thank
you for this,-but I won't trouble you for more--I'll not bear
another word."
Colonel Wellbred then, with an affected seriousness, begged to
know, since he took to singing, what he should do for a shake,
which was absolutely indispensable.
"A shake?" he repeated, "what do you mean?"
"Why--a shake with the voice, such as singers make."
"Why, how must I do it?"
"O, really, I cannot tell you."
"Why, then, I'll try myself--is it so?"
And he began such a harsh hoarse noise, that Colonel Goldsworthy
exclaimed, between every other sound,--"No, no,--no more!" While
Colonel Wellbred professed teaching him, and gave such ridiculous
lessons and directions,-now to stop short, now to swell,-now to
sink the voice, etc., etc., that, between the master and the
scholar, we were almost demolished.
MRS. SCHWELLENBERG'S "LUMP OF LEATHER."
Tuesday, June 19.-We were scarcely all arranged at tea when
Colonel Manners eagerly said, "Pray, Mrs. Schwellenberg, have you
lost anything?"
"Me?--no, not I
"No?--what, nothing?"
"Not I!"
"Well, then, that's very odd! for I found something that had your
name writ upon it."
"My name? and where did you find that?"
"Why--it was something I found in my bed."
"In your bed?--O, very well! that is reelly comeecal?"
"And pray what was it?" cried Miss Port.
"Why--a great large, clumsy lump of leather."
"Of leadder, sir?--of leadder? What was that for me?"
"Why, ma'am, it was so big and so heavy, it was as much as I
could do to lift it!"
"Well, that was nothing from me! when it was so heavy, you might
let it alone!"
"But, ma'am, Colonel Wellbred said it was somewhat of yours."
Page 43
"Of mine?--O, ver well! Colonel Wellbred might not say such
thing! I know nothing, Sir, from your leadder, nor from your
bed, sir,--not I!"
"Well, ma'am, then your maid does. Colonel Wellbred says he
supposes it was she."
"Upon my vord! Colonel Wellbred might not say such things from my
maid! I won't not have it so!"
"O yes, ma'am; Colonel Wellbred says she often does SO. He says
she's a very gay lady."
She was quite too much amazed to speak: one of her maids, Mrs.
Arline, is a poor humble thing, that would not venture to jest, I
believe, with the kitchen maid, and the other has never before
been at Windsor.
"But what was it?" cried Miss Port.
"Why, I tell you--a great, large lump of leather, with 'Madame
Schwellenberg' wrote upon it. However, I've ordered it to be
sold."
"To be sold? How will you have it sold, Sir? You might tell me
that, when you please."
"Why, by auction, ma'am."
"By auction, Sir? What, when it had my name upon it? Upon my
vord!--how come you to do dat, sir? Will you tell me, once?"
"Why, I did it for the benefit of my man, ma'am, that he might
have the money."
"But for what is your man to have it, when it is mine?"
"Because, ma'am, it frightened him so."
"O, ver well! Do you rob, sir? Do you take what is not your own,
but others', sir, because your man is frightened?"
"O yes, ma'am! We military men take all we can get!"
"What! in the king's house, Sir!"
"Why then, ma'am, what business had it in my bed? My room's my
castle: nobody has a right there. My bed must be my treasury;
and here they put me a thing into it big enough to be a bed
itself."----
"O! vell! (much alarmed) it might be my bed-case, then!"
(Whenever Mrs. Schwellenberg travels, she carries her bed in a
large black leather case, behind her servants' carriage.)
" Very likely, ma'am."
"Then, sir," very angrily, "how Come you by it?"
"Why, I'll tell you, ma'am. I was just going to bed; so MY
servant took one candle, and I had the other. I had just had my
hair done, and my curls were just rolled up, and he
Page 44
was going away; but I turned about, by accident, and I saw a
great lump in my bed; so I thought it was my clothes.
'What do you put them there for?' says I. 'Sir,' says he, 'it
looks as if there was a drunken man in the bed.' 'A drunken
man?' says I; 'Take the poker, then, and knock him on the head!'"
"Knock him on the head?" interrupted Mrs. Schwellenberg, "What!
when it might be some innocent person? Fie! Colonel Manners. I
thought you had been too good-natured for such thing--to poker
the people in the king's house!"
"Then what business have they to get into my bed, ma'am? So then
my man looked nearer, and he said, 'Sir, why, here's your
night-cap and here's the pillow!--and here's a great, large lump
of leather!' 'Shovel it all out!' says I. 'Sir,' says he, 'It's
Madame Schwellenberg's! here's her name on it.' 'Well, then,'
says I, 'sell it, to-morrow, to the saddler.'"
"What! when you knew it was mine, sir? Upon my vord, you been ver
good!" (bowing very low).
"Well, ma'am, it's all Colonel Wellbred, I dare say; so, suppose
you and I were to take the law of him?"
"Not I, sir!" (Scornfully).
"Well, but let's write him a letter, then, and frighten him:
let's tell him it's sold, and he must make it good. You and I'll
do it together."
"No, sir; you might do it yourself. I am not so familiar to
write to gentlemens."
"Why then, you shall only sign it, and I'll frank it."
Here the entrance of some new person stopped the discussion.
Happy in his success, he began, the next day, a new device: he
made an attack in politics, and said, he did not doubt but Mr.
Hastings would come to be hanged; though, he assured us,
afterwards, he was firmly his friend, and believed no such
thing.(236)
Even with this not satisfied, he next told her that he had just
heard Mr. Burke was in Windsor. Mr. Burke is the name
Page 45
in the world most obnoxious, both for his Reform bill,(237) which
deeply affected all the household, and for his prosecution of Mr.
Hastings; she therefore declaimed against him very warmly.
"Should you like to know him, ma'am?" cried he.
"Me?--No; not I."
"Because, I dare say, ma'am, I have interest enough with him to
procure you his acquaintance. Shall I bring him to the Lodge to
see you?"
"When you please, sir, you might keep him to yourself!"
Well, then, he shall come and dine with me,'and after it drink
tea with you."
"No, no, not I! You might have him all to yourself."
"but if he comes, you must make his tea."
"There is no such 'must,' sir! I do it for my pleasure--only
when I please, sir!"
At night, when we were separating, he whispered Miss Port that he
had something else in store for the next meeting, when he
intended to introduce magnetising.
MRS. SCHWELLENBERG's FROGS.
July 2.-What a stare was drawn from our new equerry(238) by Major
Price's gravely asking Mrs. Schwellenberg, after the health of
her frogs? She answered they were very well, and the major said,
" You must know, Colonel Gwynn, Mrs. Schwellenberg keeps a pair
of frogs,"
"Of frogs?--pray what do they feed upon?"
"Flies, sir," she answered.
"And pray, ma'am, what food have they in winter?"
"Nothing other."
The stare was now still wider.
"But I can make them croak when I will," she added, "when I only
go so to my snuff-box, knock, knock, knock, they croak all what I
please."
Page 46
"Very pretty, indeed!" exclaimed Colonel Goldsworthy.
"I thought to have some spawn," she continued; "but then Maria
Carlton, what you call Lady Doncaster, came and frightened them;
I was never so angry!"
"I am sorry for that," cried the major, very seriously, "for else
I should have begged a pair."
"So you meant, ma'am, to have had a breed of them," cried Colonel
Goldsworthy; "a breed of young frogs? Vastly clever, indeed!;
Then followed a formal enumeration of their virtues and endearing
little qualities, which made all laugh except the new equerry,
who sat in perfect amaze.
Then, suddenly, she stopped short, and called out, "There! now I
have told you all this, you might tell something to me. I have
talked enoff; now you might amuse me."
July 19.-In the afternoon, while I was working in Mrs.
Schwellenberg's room, Mr. Turbulent entered, to summon Miss
Planta to the princesses; and, in the little while of executing
that simple commission, he made such use of his very ungovernable
and extraordinary eyes, that the moment he was gone, Mrs.
Schwellenberg demanded "for what he looked so at me?"
I desired to know what she meant.
"Why, like when he was so cordial with you? Been you acquainted?"
"O, yes!" cried I, "I spent three hours twice a-week upon the
road with him and Miss Planta, all the winter; and three or four
dinners and afternoons besides."
"O that's nothing! that's no acquaintance at all. I have had
people to me, to travel and to dine, fourteen and fifteen years,
and yet they been never so cordial!"
This was too unanswerable for reply; but it determined me to try
at some decided measure for restraining or changing looks and
behaviour that excited such comments. And I thought my safest
way would be fairly and frankly to tell him this very inquiry.
It might put him upon his guard from such foolishness, without
any more serious effort.
July 20.-This evening Mrs. Schwellenberg was not well, and sent
to desire I would receive the gentlemen to tea, and make her
apologies. I immediately summoned my lively, and lovely young
companion, Miss Port, who hastens at every call with
good-humoured delight.
Page 47
We had really a pleasant evening, though simply from the absence
of spleen and jealousy, which seemed to renew and invigorate the
spirits of all present: namely, General Budé, Signor del Campo,
and Colonel Gwynn. They all stayed very late but when they made
their exit, I dismissed my gay assistant and thought it incumbent
on me to show myself upstairs; a reception was awaiting me!--so
grim! But, what O heaven! how depressing, how cruel, to be
fastened thus on an associate so exigeante, so tyrannical, and so
ill-disposed!
I feared to blame the equerries for having detained me, as they
were already so much out of favour. I only, therefore, mentioned
M. del Campo, who, as a foreign minister, might be allowed so
much civility as not to be left to himself: for I was openly
reproached- that I had not quitted them to hasten to her!
Nothing, however, availed; and after vainly trying to appease
her, I was obliged to go to my own room, to be in attendance for
my royal summons.
July 21.-I resolved to be very meek and patient, as I do, now and
then, when I am good, and to bear this hard trial of causeless
offence without resentment; and, therefore, I went this afternoon
as soon as I had dined, and sat and worked, and forced
conversation, and did my best, but with very indifferent success;
when, most perversely, who should be again announced -but Mr.
Turbulent. As I believe the visit was not, just after those
"cordial" looks, supposed to be solely for the lady of the
apartment, his reception was no better than mine had been the
preceding days! He did not, however, regard it, but began a
talk, in which he made it his business to involve me, by
perpetual reference to my opinion. This did not much conciliate
matters; and his rebuffs, from time to time, were so little
ceremonious, that nothing but the most confirmed contempt could
have kept off an angry resentment. I could sometimes scarcely
help laughing at his utterly careless returns to an imperious
haughtiness, vainly meant to abash and distance him. I took the
earliest moment in my power to quit the room and the reproach
with which he looked at my exit, for leaving him to such a
tête-à-tête, was quite risible. He knew he could not, in
decency, run away immediately, to and he seemed ready to commit
some desperate act for having drawn himself into such a
difficulty. I am always rejoiced when his flights and follies
bring their own punishment.
Page 48
MR. TURBULENT'S ANTICS.
July 25-Mr. Turbulent amused himself this morning with giving me
yet another panic. He was ordered to attend the queen during her
hair-dressing, as was Mr. de Luc. I remained in the room the
queen conversed with us all three, as occasions arose, with the
utmost complacency; but this person, instead of fixing there his
sole attention, contrived, by standing behind her chair, and
facing me, to address a language of signs to me the whole time,
casting up his eyes, clasping ],is hands, and placing himself in
various fine attitudes, and all with a humour so burlesque, that
it was impossible to take it either ill or seriously. Indeed,
when I am on the very point of the most alarmed displeasure with
him, he always falls upon some such ridiculous devices of
affected homage, that I grow ashamed of my anger, and hurry it
over, lest he should perceive it, and attribute it to a
misunderstanding he might think ridiculous in his turn.
How much should I have been discountenanced had her majesty
turned about and perceived him!
(230) Colonel Greville, called in the "Diary" "Colonel Wellbred,"
one of the king's equerries, whom M. de Guiffardiere ("Mr.
Turbulent") was particularly anxious to introduce to Miss
Burney.-ED.
(231) I "The Paston Letters" were first published, from the
original manuscripts, in 1787. They were chiefly written by or
to members of the Paston family in Norfolk during the reigns of
Henry VI., Edward IV., Richard III., and Henry VII. The letter
above alluded to is No. 91 in the collection. It is a letter of
good Counsel to his young son, written in a very tender and
religious strain, by the Duke of Suffolk, on the 30th of April,
1450, the day on which he quitted England to undergo his five
years' banishment. The duke had been impeached of high treason,
and condemned to this term of banishment, through the king's
interposition, to save him from a worse fate. But his fate was
not to be eluded. He set sail on the 30th of April, was taken on
the sea by his enemies, and beheaded on the 2nd of May
following.-ED.
(232) Miss Burney had obtained the tacit consent of the queen
that M. de Guiffardiere should travel occasionally with the
equerries, instead of taking his usual place in the coach
assigned to the keepers of the robes. Her real motive in making
the application had been a desire to see less of this boisterous
gentleman, but she had put it upon his attachment to Colonel
Greville-ED.
(233) Benjamin -west, R.A., who succeeded Reynolds as President
of the Royal Academy, on the death of the latter in 1792. This
mediocre painter was a prodigious favourite with George III., for
whom many of his works were executed.-ED.
(234) The Duchess Jules de Polignac, the celebrated favourite of
Marie Antoinette. She and her husband, who had been raised by
the queen from a condition of positive poverty, were hated in
France, both as Court favourites, and on account of the wealth
which, it was believed, they had taken advantage of their
position to amass. "Mille 6cus," cried Mirabeau, "A la famille
d'Assas pour avoir sauv6 l'etat; un million a la famille Polignac
pour l'avoir perdu!"
The ostensible object of the duches,'s visit to England was to
drink the Bath Waters, but there are good grounds for believing
that her real purpose was to make an arrangement with M. de la
Motte for the suppression of some scurrilous Memoirs which it was
rumoured his wife had written, and in which, among other things,
Marie Antoinette was accused of being the principal culprit in
the notorious Diamond Necldace fraud. M. de la Motte states in
his autobiography that he met the Duchess Jules and her
Sister-in-law, the Countess Diane, at the Duchess of Devonshire's
(the beautiful Georgiana), at the request of the latter, when
certain overtures were made to him, and trustworthy authorities
assert that a large sum of money was afterwards paid to the De la
Mottes, to suppress the Memoirs which were however eventually
published. When the French Revolution broke out the Polignacs
were among the first to emigrate. The duchess died at Vienna in
December, 1793, a few months after Marie Antoinette had perished
on the scaffold.-ED.
(235) Mrs. Schwellenberg had returned to Windsor the day
before.-ED.
(236) The storm had been gathering round Hastings ever since his
return to England in June, 1785, within a week of which Burke had
given notice in the House of Commons of a motion affecting the
conduct of the late Governor-General in India. His impeachment
was voted in May, 1787, and preparations for his trial were now
going actively forward. We shall find hereafter, in the Diary,
some sketches, from Fanny's point of view, of scenes in this
famous trial, which commenced in February, 1788.-ED.
(237) This was an old grievance. In 1780 Burke had introduced a
hill "for the better regulation of his majesty's civil
establishments, and of certain public offices; for the limitation
of pensions, and the suppression of sundry useless, expensive and
inconvenient places; and for applying the monies saved thereby to
the public service." The bill was defeated at the time, but was
re-introduced with certain alterations, and finally passed both
houses by a large majority in 1782.-ED.
(238) Colonel Gwynn who had just arrived at Windsor to succeed
Colonel Manners in the office of equerry in waiting to the King.
Colonel Gwynn was the husband of Mary Horneck, Goldsmith's
"Jessamy Bride."-ED.
Page 49
SECTION 11.
(1787-8.)
COURT DUTIES: SOME VARIATIONS IN THEIR ROUTINE.
MEETING OF THE TWO PRINCES.
To-day, after a seven years' absence, arrived the Duke of York.
I saw him alight from his carriage, with an eagerness, a
vivacity, that assured me of the affectionate joy with which he
returned to his country and family. But the joy of his excellent
father!-O, that there is no describing It was the glee of the
first youth--nay, of ai ardent and innocent infancy,--so pure it
seemed, so warm, so open, so unmixed! Softer joy was the
queen's--mild, equal, and touching while all the princesses were
in one universal rapture.
To have the pleasure of seeing the royal family in this happy
assemblage, I accompanied Miss Port on the Terrace. It was
indeed an affecting sight to view the general content; but that
of the king went to my very heart, so delighted he looked-so
proud Of his son--so benevolently pleased that every one should
witness his satisfaction. The Terrace was very full; all Windsor
and its neighbourhood poured in upon it, to see the prince whose
whole demeanour seemed promising to merit his flattering
reception--gay yet grateful--modest, yet unembarrassed......
Early the next morning arrived the Prince of Wales, who had
travelled all night from Brighthelmstone. The day was a day Of
complete happiness to the whole of the royal family; the king was
in one transport of delight, unceasing, invariable;
Page 50
and though the newly-arrived duke was its source and Support the
kindness of his heart extended and expanded to his eldest' born,
whom he seemed ready again to take to his paternal breast;
indeed, the whole world seemed endeared to him by the happiness
he now felt in it.
Sunday, Aug. 5.-General Grenville brought in the duke this
evening to the tea-room. I was very much pleased with his
behaviour, which was modest, dignified, and easy. Might he but
escape the contagion of surrounding examples, he seems promising
of all his fond father expects and merits. . . .
Kew, Aug. 7-The next day the now happy family had the delight of
again seeing the two princes in its circle. They dined
here; and the Princess Augusta, who came to Mrs. Schwellenberg's
room in the evening, on a message, said, "There never had been so
happy a dinner since the world was created," The king, In the
evening, again drove out the queen and princesses. The Prince of
Wales, seeing Mr. Smelt in our room (which, at Kew, is in the
front of the house, as well as at Windsor), said he would come in
and ask him how he did. Accordingly, in he came, and talked to
Mr. Smelt for about a quarter of an hour; his subjects almost
wholly his horses and his rides. He gave some account of his
expedition to town to meet his brother. He was just preparing,
at Brighton, to give a supper entertainment to Madame La
Princesse de Lamballe,--when he perceived his courier. "I dare
say," he cried, "my brother's come!" set off instantly to excuse
himself to the princess, and arrived at Windsor by the time of
early prayers, at eight o'clock the next morning.
"To-day, again," he said, "I resolved to be in town to meet my
brother; we determined to dine somewhere together, but had not
settled where; so hither we came. When I went last to Brighton,
I rode one hundred and thirty miles, and then danced at the
ball,. I am going back directly; but I shall ride to Windsor
again for the birthday, and shall stay there till my brother's,
and then back on Friday. We are going now over the way: my
brother wants to see the old mansion."
The Prince of Wales's house is exactly opposite to the Lodge
The duke then came in, and bowed to every one present, very
attentively; and presently after, they went over the way, arm in
arm; and thence returned to town.
I had a long and painful discourse afterwards with Mr. Smelt,
deeply interested in these young princes , upon the many dangers
awaiting the newly-arrived, who seemed alike
Page 51
unfitted and unsuspicious for encountering them. Mr. Smelt's
heart ached as if he had been their parent, and the regard
springing from his early and long care of them seemed all revived
in his hopes and fears of what might ensue from this reunion.
I rejoiced at the public reconciliation with the Prince of Wales,
which had taken place during my illness, and which gave the
greater reason for hope that there might not now be a division!
BUNBURY, THE CARICATURIST.
Windsor, Aug. 14.-General Budé came in, with two strangers, whom
he introduced to us by the names of Bunbury and Crawfurd. I was
very curious to know if this was the Bunbury;(239) and I
conjectured it could be no other. When Colonel Gwynn joined us,
he proposed anew the introduction; but nothing passed to
ascertain my surmise. The conversation was general And
good-humoured, but without anything striking, or bespeaking
character or genius. Almost the whole consisted of inquiries
what to do, whither to go, and how to proceed; which, though
natural and sensible for a new man, were undistinguished by any
humour, or keenness of expression or manner.
Mr. Crawfurd spoke not a word. He is a very handsome young man,
just appointed equerry to the Duke of York.
I whispered my inquiry to Colonel Gwynn as soon as I found an
opportunity, and heard, "Yes,--'tis Harry Bunbury, sure enough!"
So now we may all be caricatured at his leisure! He is made
another of the equerries to the Duke. A man with such a turn,
and with talents so inimitable in displaying it, was rather a
dangerous character to be brought within a Court!
Aug. 15.-My sole conversation this evening was with Mr.
Bunbury, who drew a chair next mine, and chatted incessantly,
with great good humour, and an avidity to discuss the subjects he
started, which were all concerning plays and Players.
Presently the voice of the Duke of York was heard, calling aloud
for Colonel Goldsworthy. Off he ran. Mr. Bunbury laughed, but
declared he would not take the hint: "What," cried
he, "if I lose the beginning?(240)--I think I know it pretty
Page 52
well by heart'-'Why did I marry' '"--And then he began to spout,
and act, and rattle away, with all his might,-till the same voice
called out "Bunbury !--you'll be too late!"--And off he flew,
leaving his tea untasted--so eager had he been in discourse.
MRS. SIDDONS PROVES DISAPPOINTING ON NEAR ACQUAINTANCE.
Wednesday, Aug. 15.-Mrs. Schwellenberg's illness occasioned my
attending the queen alone; and when my official business was
ended, she graciously detained me, to read to me a new paper
called "Olla Podrida," which is now Publishing periodically.
Nothing very bright--nothing very deficient.
In the afternoon, while I was drinking coffee with Mrs.
Schwellenberg,--or, rather, looking at it, since I rarely,
swallow any,--her majesty came Into the room, and soon after a
little German discourse with Mrs. Schwellenberg told me Mrs.
Siddons had been ordered to the Lodge, to read a play, and
desired I would receive her in my room
I felt a little queer in the office ; I had only seen her twice
or thrice, in large assemblies, at Miss Monckton's, and at Sir
Joshua Reynolds's, and never had been introduced to her, nor
spoken with her. However, in this dead and tame life I now lead,
such an interview was by no means undesirable.
I had just got to the bottom of the stairs, when she entered the
passage gallery. I took her into the tea-room, and endeavoured
to make amends for former distance and taciturnity, by an open
and cheerful reception. I had heard from sundry people (in old
days) that she wished to make the acquaintance; but I thought it
then one of too conspicuous a sort for the quietness I had so
much difficulty to preserve in my ever increasing connections.
Here all was changed; I received her by the queen's commands, and
was perfectly well inclined to reap some pleasure from the
meeting.
But, now that we came so near, I was much disappointed in my
expectations. I know not if my dear Fredy has met with her in
private, but I fancy approximation is not highly in her favour.
I found her the heroine of a tragedy,--sublime, elevated, and
solemn. In face and person truly noble and commanding; in
manners quiet and stiff; in voice deep and dragging; and in
conversation, formal, sententious, calm, and
Page 53
dry. I expected her to have been all that is interesting; the
delicacy and sweetness with which she seizes every opportunity to
strike and to captivate upon the stage had persuaded me that her
mind was formed with that peculiar susceptibility which, in
different modes, must give equal powers to attract and to delight
in common life. But I was very much mistaken. As a stranger I
must have admired her noble appearance and beautiful countenance,
and have regretted that nothing in her conversation kept pace
with their promise and, as a celebrated actress I had
still only to do the same.
Whether fame and success have spoiled her, or whether she only
possesses the skill of representing and embellishing materials
with which she is furnished by others, I know not but still I
remain disappointed.
She was scarcely seated, and a little general discourse begun,
before she told me--at once--that "There was no part she had ever
so much wished to act as that of Cecilia."
I made some little acknowledgment, and hurried to ask when she
had seen Sir Joshua Reynolds, Miss Palmer, and others with whom I
knew her acquainted.
The play she was to read was "The Provoked Husband." She
appeared neither alarmed nor elated by her summons, but calmly to
look upon it as a thing of course, from her celebrity.
I should very much have liked to have heard her read the play,
but my dearest Mrs. Delany spent the whole evening with me, and I
could therefore take no measures for finding out a convenient
adjoining room. Mrs. Schwellenberg, I heard afterwards, was so
accommodated, though not well enough for the tea-table.
MR. FAIRLY'S BEREAVEMENT.
Aug. 23.-At St. James's I read in the newspapers a paragraph that
touched me much for the very amiable Mr. Fairly: it was the death
of his wife, which happened on the Duke of York's birth-day, the
16th.(242) Mr. Fairly has devoted his whole time, strength,
thoughts, and cares solely to nursing and attending her
during a long and most painful illness which she sustained. They
speak of her here as being amiable, but so
Page 54
cold and reserved, that she was little known, and by no means in
equal favour with her husband, who stands, upon the whole the
highest in general esteem and regard of any individual of the
household. I find every mouth open to praise and pity, love and
honour him.
TROUBLESOME MR. TURBULENT.
Upon returning to Kew, I had a scene for which I was little
enough, indeed, prepared, though willing, and indeed, earnest to
satisfy Mr. Turbulent, I wished him to make an alteration of
behaviour. After hastily changing my dress, I went, as usual, to
the parlour, to be ready for dinner; but found there no Mrs.
Schwellenberg; she was again unwell; Miss Planta was not ready,
and Mr. Turbulent was reading by himself.
Away he flung his book in a moment, and hastening to shut the
door lest I should retreat, he rather charged than desired me to
explain my late "chilling demeanour."
Almost startled by his apparent entire ignorance of deserving it,
I found an awkwardness I had not foreseen in making myself
understood. I wished him rather to feel than be told the
improprieties I meant to obviate - and I did what was possible by
half evasive, half expressive answers, to call back his own
recollection and consciousness. In vain, however, was the
attempt; he protested himself wholly innocent, and that he would
rather make an end of his existence than give me offence.
He saw not these very protestations were again doing it, and he
grew so vehement in his defence, and so reproachful in his
accusation of unjust usage, that I was soon totally in a
perplexity how to extricate myself from a difficulty I had
regarded simply as his own. The moment he saw I grew
embarrassed, he redoubled his challenges to know the cause of my
"ill-treatment." I assured him, then, I could never reckon
silence ill-treatment.
"Yes," he cried, "yes, from you it is ill-treatment, and it has
given me the most serious uneasiness."
"I am sorry," I said, "for that, and did not mean it."
"Not mean it?" cried be. "Could you imagine I should miss your
conversation, your ease, your pleasantness, your gaiety, and take
no notice of the loss?"
Then followed a most violent flow of compliments, ending with a
fresh demand for an explanation, made with an energy
Page 55
that, to own the truth, once more quite frightened me. I
endeavoured to appease him, by general promises of becoming more
voluble - and I quite languished to say to him the truth at once;
that his sport, his spirit, and his society would all be
acceptable to me, would he but divest them of that redundance of
-gallantry which rendered them offensive : but I could only think
how to say this--I could not bring it out.
This promised volubility, though it softened him, he seemed to
receive as a sort of acknowledgment that I owed him some
reparation for the disturbance I had caused him. I stared enough
at such an interpretation, which I could by no means allow; but
no sooner did I disclaim it than all his violence was resumed,
and he urged me to give in my charge against him with an
impetuosity that almost made me tremble.
I made as little answer as possible, finding everything I said
seemed but the more to inflame his violent spirit; but his
emotion was such, and the cause so inadequate, and my uncertainty
so unpleasant what to think of him altogether, that I was seized
with sensations so nervous, I Could almost have cried. In the
full torrent of his offended justification against my displeasure
towards him, he perceived my increasing distress how to proceed,
and, suddenly stopping, exclaimed in quite another tone, "Now,
then, ma'am, I see your justice returning; you feel that you have
used me very ill!"
To my great relief entered Miss Planta. He contrived to say,
"Remember, you promise to explain all this."
I made him no sort of answer, and though he frequently, in the
course of the evening, repeated, "I depend upon your promise! I
build upon a conference," I sent his dependence and his building
to Coventry, by not seeming to hear him.
I determined, however, to avoid all tête-à-têtes with him
whatsoever, as much as was in my power. How very few people are
fit for them, nobody living in trios and quartettos can imagine!
A CONCEITED PARSON.
Windsor.-Who should find me out now but Dr. Shepherd.(243) He is
here as canon, and was in residence. He told me he had long
wished to come, but had never been able to find the
Page 56
way of entrance before. He made me an immense length of visit,
and related to me all the exploits of his life,-so far as they
were prosperous. In no farce did a man ever more floridly open
upon his own perfections. He assured me I should be delighted to
know the whole of his life; it was equal to anything; and
everything he had was got by his own address and ingenuity.
"I could tell the king," cried he, "more than all the chapter. I
want to talk to him, but he always gets out of my way; he does
not know me; he takes me for a mere common person, like the rest
of the canons here, and thinks of me no more than if I were only
fit for the cassock;--a mere Scotch priest! Bless 'em!--they
know nothing about me. You have no conception what things I have
done! And I want to tell 'em all this;--It's fitter for them to
hear than what comes to their ears. What I want is for somebody
to tell them what I am."
They know it already, thought I.
Then, when he had exhausted this general panegyric, he descended
to some few particulars; especially dilating upon his preaching,
and applying to me for attesting its excellence.
"I shall make one sermon every year, precisely for you!" he
cried; "I think I know what will please you. That on the
creation last Sunday was just to your taste. You shall have such
another next residence. I think I preach in the right tone--not
too slow, like that poor wretch Grape, nor too fast like Davis
and the rest of 'em; but yet fast enough never to tire them.
That's just my idea of good preaching."
Then he told me what excellent apartments he had here and how
much he should like my opinion in fitting them up.
MR. TURBULENT BECOMES A NUISANCE.
Aug.30.-Mrs. Schwellenberg invited Mr. Turbulent to dinner, for
she said he had a large correspondence, and might amuse her. He
came early; and finding nobody in the eating-parlour, begged to
wait in mine till Mrs. Schwellenberg came downstairs. This was
the last thing I wished; but he required no answer, and instantly
resumed the Kew discussion, entreating me to tell him what he had
done. I desired him to desist--in vain, he affirmed I had
promised him an explanation, and he had therefore a right to it.
"You fully mistook me, then," cried I, "for I meant no
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such thing then; I mean no such thing now; and I never shall mean
any such thing in future. Is this explicit? I think it best to
tell you so at once, that you may expect nothing more, but give
over the subject, and talk of something else. What is the news?"
"I'll talk of nothing else!--it distracts me;--pray No, no, tell
Me!--I call upon your good-nature!"
"I have none--about this! "
"Upon your goodness of heart!"
"'Tis all hardness here!"
"I will cast myself at your feet,--I will kneel to you!" And he
was preparing his immense person for prostration, when Goter(244)
opened the door. Such an interruption to his heroics made me
laugh heartily; nor could he help joining himself; though the
moment she was gone he renewed his importunity with unabated
earnestness.
"I remember," he cried, "it was upon the Terrace you first shewed
me this disdain; and there, too, you have shown it me repeatedly
since, with public superciliousness. . . . You well know you
have treated me ill,--you know and have acknowledged it!"
"And when?" cried I, amazed and provoked; "when did I do what
could never be done?"
"At Kew, ma'am, you were full of concern--full of remorse for the
treatment you had given me!--and you owned it!"
"Good heaven, Mr. Turbulent, what can induce you to say this?"
"Is it not true?"
"Not a word of it! You know it is not!"
"Indeed," cried he, "I really and truly thought so--hoped so;--I
believed you looked as if you felt your own ill-usage,- and it
gave to me a delight inexpressible!"
This was almost enough to bring back the very same supercilious
Distance of which he complained; but, in dread of fresh
explanations, I forbore to notice this flight, and only told him
he might be perfectly satisfied, since I no longer Persevered in
the taciturnity to which he objected.
"But how," cried he, "do you give up, without deigning to assign
one reason for It"?
"The greater the compliment!" cried I, laughing; "I give up to
your request."
"Yes, ma'am, upon my speaking,-but why did you keep Me so long in
that painful suspense?"
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"Nay," cried I, "could I well be quicker? Till you spoke could I
know if you heeded it?"
"Ah, ma'am--is there no language but of words? Do you pretend to
think there is no other?'--Must I teach it you,,--teach it to
Miss Burney who speaks, who
understands it so well?--who is never silent, and never can b
silent?"
And then came his heroic old homage to the poor eyebrows
vehemently finishing with, "Do you, can you affect to know no
language but speech?"
" Not," cried I, coolly, " without the trouble of more
investigation than I had taken here."
He called this "contempt," and, exceedingly irritated, de sired
me, once more, to explain, from beginning to end, how he had ever
offended me.
"Mr. Turbulent," cried I, "will you be satisfied if I tell you it
shall all blow over?"
"Make me a vow, then, you will never more, never while you live,
resume that proud taciturnity."
"No, no,--certainly not; I never make vows; it is a rule with me
to avoid them."
"Give me, then, your promise,--your solemn promise,--at least I
may claim that?"
"I have the same peculiarity about promises; I never make them."
He was again beginning to storm, but again I assured him I would
let the acquaintance take its old course, if he would but be
appeased, and say no more; and, after difficulties innumerable,
he at length gave up the point: but to this he was hastened, if
not driven, by a summons to dinner.
DR. HERSCHEL AND HIS SISTER.
Sept.-Dr. Herschel is a delightful man; so unassuming with his
great knowledge, so willing to dispense it to the ignorant, and
so cheerful and easy in his general manners, that were he no
genius it would be impossible not to remark him as a pleasing and
sensible man. I was equally pleased with his sister, whom I had
wished to see very much, for her great celebrity in her brother's
science. She is very little, very gentle, very modest, and very
ingenious; and her manners are those of a person unhackneyed and
unawed by the world, yet desirous to meet
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and to return its smiles. I love not the philosophy that braves
it. This brother and sister seem gratified with its favour, at
the same time that their own pursuit is all-sufficient to them
without it.
I inquired of Miss Herschel if she was still comet-hunting, or
content now with the moon? The brother answered that he had the
charge of the moon, but he left to his sister to sweep the
heavens for comets.
Their manner of working together is most ingenious and curious.
While he makes his observations without-doors, he has a method of
communicating them to his sister so immediately, that she can
instantly commit them to paper, with the precise moment in which
they are made. By this means he loses not a minute, when there
is anything particularly worth observing, by writing it down, but
can still proceed, yet still have his accounts and calculations
exact. The methods he has contrived to facilitate this commerce
I have not the terms to explain, though his simple manner of
showing them made me, fully, at the time, comprehend them.
The night, unfortunately, was dark, and I could not see the moon
with the famous new telescope. I mean not the great telescope
through which I had taken a walk, for that is still incomplete,
but another of uncommon powers. I saw Saturn, however, and his
satellites, very distinctly, and their appearance was very
beautiful.
GAY AND ENTERTAINING MR. BUNBURY.
Sept.-I saw a great deal of Mr. Bunbury in the course of this
month, as he was in waiting upon the Duke of York, who spent
great part of it at Windsor, to the inexpressible delight of his
almost idolising father. Mr. Bunbury did not open upon me with
that mildness and urbanity that might lead me to forget the
strokes of his pencil, and power of his caricature: he early
avowed a general disposition to laugh at, censure, or despise all
around him. He began talking of everybody and everything about
us, with the decisive freedom of a confirmed old intimacy.
"I am in disgrace here, already!" he cried almost exultingly.
"In disgrace?" I repeated.
"Yes,--for not riding out this morning!--I was asked--what Could
I have better to do?--Ha! ha!"
The next time that I saw him after your departure from
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Windsor,(245) he talked a great deal of painting and painters,
and then said, "The draftsman of whom I think the most highly of
any in the world was in this room the other day, and I did not
know it, and was not introduced to him!"
I immediately assured him I never held the honours of the room
when its right mistress was in it, but that I would certainly
have named them to each other had I known he desired it.
"O, yes,"' cried he, "of all things I wished to know him. He
draws like the old masters. I have seen fragments in the style
of many of the very best and first productions of the greatest
artists of former times. He could deceive the most critical
judge. I wish greatly for a sight of his works, and for the
possession of one of them, to add to my collection, as I have
something from almost everybody else and a small sketch of his I
should esteem a greater curiosity than all the rest put
together."(246)
Moved by the justness of' this praise, I fetched him
the sweet little cadeaux so lately left me by Mr. William's
kindness. He was very much pleased, and perhaps thought I
might bestow them. O, no--not one stroke of that pencil could I
relinquish!
Another evening he gave us the history, of his way of life
at Brighthelmstone. He spoke highly of the duke, but with much
satire of all else, and that incautiously, and evidently with
an innate defiance of consequences, from a consciousness of
secret powers to overawe their hurting him.
Notwithstanding the general reverence I pay to extraordinary
talents, which lead me to think it even a species of
impertinence to dwell upon small failings in their rare
possessors, Mr. Bunbury did not gain my good-will. His serious
manner is supercilious and haughty, and his easy conversation
wants rectitude in its principles. For the rest, he is
entertaining and gay, full of talk, sociable, willing to enjoy
what is going forward, and ready to speak his opinion with
perfect unreserve.
Plays and players seem his darling theme; he can rave about them
from morning to night, and yet be ready to rave again when
morning returns, He acts as he talks, spouts as
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he recollects, and seems to give his whole soul to dramatic
feeling and expression. This is not, however, his only subject
Love and romance are equally clear to his discourse, though they
cannot be introduced with equal frequency. Upon these topics he
loses himself wholly--he runs into rhapsodies that discredit him
at once as a father, a husband, and a moral man. He asserts that
love Is the first principle of life, and should take place of
every other; holds all bonds and obligations as nugatory that
would claim a preference; and advances such doctrines of exalted
sensations in the tender passion as made me tremble while I heard
them.
He adores Werter, and would scarce believe I had not read it-
-still less that I had begun It and left it off, from distaste at
its evident tendency. I saw myself sink instantly in his
estimation, though till this little avowal I had appeared to
Stand in it very honourably.
THE PRINCE OF WALES AT WINDSOR AGAIN.
One evening, while I was sitting with Mrs. Delany, and her fair
niece, when tea was over, and the gentlemen all withdrawn, the
door was Opened, and a star entered, that I perceived presently
to be the Prince of Wales. He was here to hunt with his royal
father and brother. With great politeness he made me his first
bow, and then advancing to Mrs. Delany, insisted, very
considerately, on her sitting still, though he stood himself for
half an hour--all the time he stayed. He entered into discourse
very good-humouredly, and with much vivacity; described to her
his villa at Brighthelmstone, told several anecdotes of
adventures there, and seemed desirous to entertain both her and
myself . . . . .
NOV. 8.-At near one o'clock in the morning, while the wardrobe
woman was pinning up the queen's hair, there was a sudden rap-tap
at the dressing-room door. Extremely surprised, I looked at the
queen, to see what should be done; she did not speak. I had
never heard such a sound before, for at the royal doors there
Is always a peculiar kind of scratch used, instead of tapping. I
heard it, however, again,--and the queen called out, "What is
that?" I Was really startled, not conceiving who could take so
strange a liberty as to come to the queen's apartment without the
announcing of a page - and no page, I was very sure, would make
such a noise.
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Again the sound was repeated, and more smartly. I grew quite
alarmed, imagining some serious evil at hand--either regarding
the king or some of the princesses. The queen, however, bid me
open the door. I did--but what was MY surprise to see there a
large man, in an immense wrapping great coat, buttoned up round
his chin, so that he was almost hid between cape and hat!
I stood quite motionless for a moment--but he, as if also
surprised, drew back; I felt quite sick with sudden terror--I
really thought some ruffian had broke into the house, or a
madman.
"Who is it?" cried the queen.
"I do not know, ma'am," I answered.
"Who is it?" she called aloud; and then, taking off his hat,
entered the Prince of Wales!
The queen laughed very much, so did I too, happy in this
unexpected explanation.
He told her, eagerly, he merely came to inform her there were the
most beautiful northern lights to be seen that could possibly be
imagined, and begged her to come to the gallery windows.
FALSE RUMOURS OF Miss BURNEY'S RESIGNATION.
Wednesday, Sept. 14--We went to town for the drawing-room, and I
caught a most severe cold, by being oblige to have the glass down
on my side, to suit Mrs. Schwellenberg, though the sharpest wind
blew in that ever attacked a poor phiz. However, these are the
sort of desagremens I can always best bear; and for the rest, I
have now pretty constant civility.
My dear father drank tea with me - but told me of a paragraph in
"The World," that gave me some uneasiness; to this effect:--"We
hear that Miss Burney has resigned her place about the queen, and
is now promoted to attend the princesses, an office far more
suited to her character and abilities, which will now be called
forth as they merit."--Or to that purpose. As "The World" is not
taken in here, I flattered myself it would not be known; for I
knew how little pleasure such a paragraph would give, and was
very sorry for it.
The next day, at St. James's, Miss Planta desired to speak to me,
before the queen arrived. She acquainted me Of the same "news,"
and said, "Everybody spoke of it;" and the queen might receive
twenty letters of recommend, to
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my place before night. Still I could only be sorry. Another
paragraph had now appeared, she told me, contradicting the first,
and saying, "The resignation of Miss Burney is premature; it only
arose from an idea of the service the education of the princesses
might reap from her virtues and accomplishments."
I was really concerned - conscious how little gratified my royal
mistress would be by the whole :-and, presently, Miss Planta came
to me again, and told me that the princesses had mentioned it!
They never read any newspapers; but they had heard of it from the
Duke of York.
I observed the queen was most particularly gracious with me,
softer, gentler, more complacent than ever; and, while dressing,
she dismissed her wardrobe-woman, and, looking at me very
steadfastly, said, "Miss Burney, do you ever read newspapers?"
"Sometimes," I answered, "but not often: however. I believe I
know what your majesty means!"
I could say no less; I was so sure of her meaning.
"Do you?" she cried.
"Yes, ma'am, and I have been very much hurt by it: that is, if
your majesty means anything relative to myself?"
"I do!" she answered, still looking at me with earnestness.
"My father, ma'am," cried I, "told me of it last night, with a
good deal of indignation."
"I," cried she, "did not see it myself: you know how little I
read the newspapers."
"Indeed," cried I, "as it was in a paper not taken in here, I
hoped it would quite have escaped your majesty."
".So it did: I only heard of it."
I looked a little curious, and she kindly explained herself.
"When the Duke of York came yesterday to dinner, he said almost
immediately, 'Pray, ma'am, what has Miss Burney left You for?'
'Left me?' 'Yes, they say she's gone; pray what's the reason?'
'Gone?' 'Yes, it's at full length in all the newspapers: is not
she gone?' 'Not that I know of.'"
"All the newspapers" was undoubtedly a little flourish of the
duke; but we jointly censured and lamented the unbridled liberty
of the press, in thus inventing, contradicting, and bringing on
and putting off, whatever they pleased.
I saw, however, she had really been staggered: she concluded, I
fancy, that the paragraph arose from some latent Muse, which
might end in matter of fact; for she talked to me of Mrs.
Dickenson, and of all that related to her retreat, and
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dwelt upon the subject with a sort of solicitude that seemed
apprehensive--if I may here use such a word-of a similar action.
It appeared to me that she rather expected some further assurance
on my part that no such view or intention had given rise to this
pretended report; and therefore, when I had again the honour of
her conversation alone, I renewed the subject, and mentioned that
my father had had some thoughts of contradicting the paragraph
himself.
"And has he done it ? " cried she quite eagerly.
"No, ma'am; for, upon further consideration, he feared it might
only excite fresh paragraphs, and that the whole would sooner
die, if neglected."
"So," said she, "I have been told; for, some years ago, there
was a paragraph in the papers I wanted myself to have had
contradicted, but they acquainted me it was best to be patient,
and it would be forgot the sooner."
"This, however, ma'am, has been contradicted this morning."
"By your father?" cried she, again speaking eagerly.
"No, ma'am; I know not by whom."
She then asked how it was done. This was very distressing but I
was forced to repeat It as well as I could, reddening enough,
though omitting, you may believe, the worst.
just then there happened an interruption; which was vexatious, as
it prevented a concluding speech, disclaiming all thoughts of
resignation, which I saw was really now become necessary for the
queen's satisfaction; and since it was true--why not say it?
And, accordingly, the next day, when she was most excessively
kind to me, I seized an opportunity, by attending her through the
apartments to the breakfast-room, to beg, permission to speak to
her. It was smilingly granted me.
"I have now, ma'am, read both the paragraphs."
"Well?" with a look of much curiosity.
"And indeed I thought them both very impertinent. They
say that the idea arose from a notion of my being promoted to a
place about the princesses!"
"I have not seen either of the paragraphs," she answered, "but
the Prince of Wales told me of the second yesterday."
"They little know me, ma'am," I cried, "who think I should regard
any other place as a promotion that removed me from your
majesty."
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"I did not take it ill, I assure you," cried she, gently.
"Indeed, ma'am, I am far from having a wish for any such
promotion--far from it! your majesty does not bestow a smile upon
me that does not secure and confirm my attachment."
one of her best smiles followed this, with a very condescending
little bow, and the words, "You are very good," uttered in a most
gentle Voice; and she went on to her breakfast.
I am most glad this complete explanation passed. Indeed it is
most true I would not willingly quit a place about the queen for
any place; and I was glad to mark that her smiles were to me the
whole estimate of its value.
This little matter has proved, in the end, very gratifying to me
for it has made clear beyond all doubt her desire of retaining
me, and a considerably increased degree of attention and
complacency have most flatteringly shown a wish I should be
retained by attachment.
TYRANNICAL MRS. SCHWELLENBERG.
Nov. 27-I had a terrible journey indeed to town, Mrs.
Schwellenberg finding it expedient to have the glass down on my
side, whence there blew in a sharp wind, which so painfully
attacked my eyes that they were inflamed even before we -arrived
in town.
Mr. de Luc and Miss Planta both looked uneasy, but no one durst
speak; and for me, it was among the evils that I can always best
bear yet before the evening I grew so ill that I could not
propose going to Chelsea, lest I should be utterly unfitted for
Thursday's drawing-room.
The next day, however, I received a consolation that has been
some ease to my mind ever since. My dear father spent the
evening with me, and was so incensed at the state of my eyes,
which were now as piteous to behold as to feel, and at the
relation of their usage, that he charged me, another time, to
draw up my 'glass in defiance of all opposition, and to abide by
all consequences, since my place was wholly immaterial when put
in competition with my health.
I was truly glad of this permission to rebel, and it has given Me
an internal hardiness in all similar assaults, that has at least
relieved my mind from the terror of giving mortal offence where
most I owe implicit obedience, should provocation overpower my
capacity of forbearance.
When we assembled to return to Windsor, Mr. de Luc was
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in real consternation at sight of my eyes; and I saw an indignant
glance at my coadjutrix, that could scarce content itself without
being understood. Miss Planta ventured not at such a glance, but
a whisper broke out, as we were descending the stairs, expressive
of horror against the same poor person--poor person indeed--to
exercise a power productive only of abhorrence, to those who view
as well as to those who feel it!
Some business of Mrs. Schwellenberg's occasioned a delay of the
journey, and we all retreated back; and when I returned to my
room, Miller, the old head housemaid, came to me, with a little
neat tin saucepan in her hand, saying, "Pray, ma'am, use this for
your eyes; 'tis milk and butter, much as I used to make for
Madame Haggerdorn when she travelled in the winter with Mrs.
Schwellenberg."
Good heaven! I really shuddered when she added, that all that
poor woman's misfortunes with her eyes, which, from inflammation
after inflammation, grew nearly blind, were attributed by herself
to these journeys, in which she was forced to have the glass down
at her side in all weathers, and frequently the glasses behind
her also! Upo n my word this account of my predecessor was the
least exhilarating intelligence I could receive! Goter told me,
afterwards, that all the servants in the house had remarked I was
going just the same way!
Miss Planta presently ran into my room, to say she had hopes we
should travel without this amiable being; and she had left me but
a moment when Mrs. Stainforth succeeded her, exclaiming, "O, for
heaven's sake, don't leave her behind; for heaven's sake, Miss
Burney, take her with you!"
'Twas impossible not to laugh at these opposite' interests, both,
from agony of fear, breaking through all restraint. Soon after,
however, we all assembled again, and got into the coach. Mr.' de
Luc, who was my vis-`a-vis, instantly pulled up the glass.
"Put down that glass!" was the immediate order.
He affected not to hear her, and began conversing. She enraged
quite tremendously, calling aloud to be obeyed without delay. He
looked compassionately at me, and shrugged his shoulders, and
said, "But, ma'am-"
"Do it, Mr. de Luc, when I tell you! I will have it! When you
been too cold, you might bear it!"
""It is not for me, ma'am, but poor Miss Burney."
"O, poor Miss Burney might bear it the same! put it down, Mr. de
Luc! without, I will get out! put it down, when I tell
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you! It is my coach! I will have it selfs! I might go alone in
it, or with one, or with what you call nobody, when I please!"
Frightened for good Mr. de Luc, and the more for being much
obliged to him, I now interfered, and begged him to let down the
glass. Very reluctantly he complied, and I leant back in the
coach, and held up my muff to my eyes. What a journey ensued!
To see that face when lighted up with fury is a sight for horror!
I was glad to exclude it by my muff.
Miss Planta alone attempted to speak. I did not think it
incumbent on me to "make the agreeable," thus used; I was
therefore wholly dumb : for not a word, not an apology, not one
expression of being sorry for what I suffered, was uttered. The
most horrible ill-humour, violence, and rudeness, were all that
were shown. Mr. de Luc was too much provoked to take his usual
method of passing all off by constant talk and as I had never
seen him venture to appear provoked before, I felt a great
obligation to his kindness. When we were about half way, we
stopped to water the horses. He then again pulled up the glass,
as if from absence. A voice of fury exclaimed, "Let it down!
without I won't go!"
"I am sure," cried he, "all Mrs. de Luc's plants will be killed
by this frost For the frost was very severe indeed.
Then he proposed my changing places with Miss Planta, who sat
opposite Mrs. Schwellenberg, and consequently on the sheltered
side. "Yes!" cried Mrs. Schwellenberg, "MISS Burney might sit
there, and so she ought!"
I told her, briefly, I was always sick in riding backwards.
"O, ver well! when you don't like it, don't do it. You might
bear it when you like it? what did the poor Haggerdorn bear it!
when the blood was all running down from her eyes!"
This was too much! "I must take, then," I cried, "the more
warning!" After that I spoke not a word. I ruminated all the
rest of the way upon my dear father's recent charge and
permission. I was upon the point continually of availing myself
of both, but alas! I felt the deep disappointment I should give
him, and I felt the most cruel repugnance to owe a resignation to
a quarrel.
These reflections powerfully forbade the rebellion to which this
unequalled arrogance and cruelty excited me; and after revolving
them again and again, I----accepted a bit of cake which she
suddenly offered me as we reached Windsor, and
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determined, since I submitted to my monastic destiny from motives
my serious thoughts deemed right, I would not be prompted to
oppose it from mere feelings of resentment to one who, strictly,
merited only contempt. . . .
I gulped as well as I could at dinner; but all civil fits are
again over. Not a word was said to me: yet I was really very ill
all the afternoon; the cold had seized my elbows, from holding
them up so long, and I was stiff and chilled all over.
In the evening, however, came my soothing Mrs. Delany. Sweet
soul ! she folded me in her arms, and wept over my shoulder! Too
angry to stand upon ceremony she told Mrs. Schwellenberg, after
our public tea, she must retire to my room, that she might speak
with me alone. This was highly resented, and I was threatened,
afterwards, that she would come to tea no more, and we might talk
our secrets always.
Mr. de Luc called upon me next morning, and openly avowed his
indignation, protesting it was an oppression he could not bear to
see used, and reproving me for checking him when he would have
run all risks. I thanked him most cordially; but assured him the
worst of all inflammations to me was that of a quarrel, and I
entreated him, therefore, not to interfere. But we have been
cordial friends from that time forward.
Miss Planta also called, kindly bringing me some eye-water, and
telling me she had "Never so longed to beat anybody in her life;
and yet, I assure you," she added, "everybody remarks that she
behaves, altogether, better to you than to any body!"
O heavens!
MRS. SCHWELLENBERG'S CAPRICIOUSNESS.
Saturday, Dec. 1.-'Tis strange that two feelings so very opposite
as love and resentment should have nearly equal power in
inspiring courage for or against the object that excites them yet
so it is. In former times I have often, on various occasions,
felt it raised to anything possible, by affection, and now I have
found it mount to the boldest height, by disdain For, be it
known, such gross and harsh usage I experienced at the end of
last month, since the inflammation of the eyes which I bore much
more composedly than sundry personal indignities that followed,
that I resolved upon a new mode of
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conduct--namely, to go out every evening, in Order to show that I
by no means considered myself as bound to stay at home after
dinner, if treated very ill; and this most courageous plan I
flattered myself must needs either procure me a liberty of
absence, always so much wished, or occasion a change of behaviour
to more decency and endurability. I had received for to-day an
invitation to meet Lady Bute and Lady Louisa Stuart at my dearest
Mrs. Delany's, and I should have wished it at all times, so much
I like them both. I had no opportunity to speak first to my
royal mistress, but I went to her at noon, rather more dressed
than usual, and when I saw her look a little surprised, I
explained my reason. She seemed very well satisfied with it, but
my coadjutrix appeared in an astonishment unequalled, and at
dinner, when we necessarily met again, new testimonies of conduct
quite without example were exhibited: for when Mrs. Thackeray and
Miss Planta were helped, she helped herself, and appeared
publicly to send me to Coventry--though the sole provocation was
intending to forego her society this evening!
I sat quiet and unhelped a few minutes, considering what to do:
for so little was my appetite, I was almost tempted to go without
dinner entirely. However, upon further reflection, I concluded
it would but harden her heart still more to have this fresh
affront so borne, and so related, as it must have been, through
Windsor, and therefore I calmly begged some greens from Miss
Planta.
The weakness of my eyes, which still would not bear the light,
prevented me from tasting animal food all this time.
A little ashamed, she then anticipated Miss Planta's assistance,
by offering me some French beans. To curb my own displeasure, I
obliged myself to accept them. Unfortunately, however, this
little softening was presently worn out, by some speeches which
it encouraged from Mrs. Thackeray, who seemed to seize the moment
of permission to acknowledge that I was in the room, by telling
me she had lately met some of my friends in town, among whom Mrs.
Chapone and the Burrows family had charged her with a thousand
regrets for My Seclusion from their society, and as many kind
compliments and good wishes.
This again sent me to Coventry for the rest of the dinner. When
it was over, and we were all going upstairs to coffee, I spoke to
Columb,(247) in passing, to have a chair for me at seven o'clock.
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"For what, then," cried a stern voice behind me, "for What go you
upstairs at all, when you don't drink coffee?
Did she imagine I should answer "For your society, ma'am"? No--I
turned back quick as lightning, and only saying, "Very well,
ma'am," moved towards my own room.
Again a little ashamed of herself, she added, rather more
civilly, "For what should you have that trouble?"
I simply repeated my "Very well, ma'am," in a voice of, I
believe, rather pique than calm acquiescence, and entered my own
apartment, unable to enjoy this little release, however speedy to
obtain it, from the various, the grievous emotions of my mind,
that this was the person, use me how she might, with whom I must
chiefly pass my time!
So unpleasant were the sensations that filled me, that I could
recover no gaiety, even at the house of my beloved friend, though
received there by her dear self, her beautiful niece, and Lady
Bute and Lady Louisa, in the most flattering manner. . . .
The behaviour of my coadjutrix continued in the same strain--
-really shocking to endure. I always began, at our first
meeting, some little small speech, and constantly received so
harsh a rebuff at the second word, that I then regularly seated
myself by a table, at work, and remained wholly silent the rest
of the day. I tried the experiment of making my escape; but I
was fairly conquered from pursuing it. The constant black
reception depressed me out of powers to exert for flight; and
therefore I relinquished this plan, and only got off, as I could,
to my own room, or remained dumb in hers.
To detail the circumstances of the tyranny and the grossieret`e I
experienced at this time would be afflicting to my beloved
friends, and oppressive to myself, I am fain, however, to confess
they vanquished me. I found the restoration of some degree of
decency quite necessary to my quiet, since such open and horrible
ill-will from one daily in my sight even affrighted me: it
pursued me in shocking visions even when I avoided her presence;
and therefore I was content to put upon myself the great and
cruel force of seeking to conciliate a person who had no
complaint against me, but that she had given me an inflammation
of the eyes, which had been witnessed and resented by her
favourite Mr. de Luc. I rather believe that latter circumstance
was what incensed her so inveterately.
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The next extraordinary step she took was one that promised me
amends for all: she told me that there was no occasion we should
continue together after coffee, unless by her invitation. I
eagerly exclaimed that this seemed a most feasible way of
producing some variety in our intercourse, and that I would adopt
it most readily. She wanted instantly to call back her words :
she had expected I should be alarmed, and solicit her leave to be
buried -with her every evening! When she saw me so eager in
acceptance, she looked mortified and disappointed ; but I would
not suffer her to retract, and I began, at once, to retire to my
room the moment coffee was over.
This flight of the sublime, which, being her own, she could not
resent, brought all round: for as she saw me every evening
prepare to depart with the coffee, she constantly began, at that
period, some civil discourse to detain me. I always suffered it
to succeed, while civil, and when there was a failure, or a
pause, I retired.
By this means I recovered such portion of quiet as is compatible
with a situation like mine: for she soon returned entirely to
such behaviour as preceded the offence of my eyes; and I
obtained a little leisure at which she could not repine, as a
caprice of her own bestowed it. . . .
To finish, however, with respect to the présidente, I must now
acquaint you that, as my eyes entirely grew -well, her incivility
entirely wore off, and I became a far greater favourite than I
had ever presumed to think myself till that time! I was obliged
to give up my short-lived privilege of retirement, and live on as
before, making only my two precious little visits to my beloved
comforter and supporter, and to devote the rest of my wearisome
time to her presence--better satisfied, however, since I now saw
that open war made me wretched, even When a victor, beyond what
any subjection could do that had peace for its terms.
This was not an unuseful discovery, for it has abated all
propensity to experiment in shaking off a yoke which, however
hard to bear, is so annexed to my place, that I must take one
with the other, and endure them as I can.
My favour, now, was beyond the favour of all others; I was "good
Miss Berner," at every other word, and no one else was listened
to if I would speak, and no one else was Accepted for a partner
if I would play! I found no cause to Which I could attribute
this change. I believe the whole mere Matter of caprice.
Page 72
New YEAR's DAY.
Queen's Lodge, Windsor, Tuesday, Jan. 1, 1788-I began the new
year, as I ended the old one, by seizing the first moment it
presented to my own disposal, for flying to Mrs. Delany, and
begging her annual benediction. She bestowed it with the
sweetest affection, and I spent, as usual all the time with her I
had to spare. . . .
In the evening, by long appointment, I was to receive Mr. Fisher
and his bride.(248) Mrs. Schwellenberg, of her own accord desired
me to have them in my room, and said she would herself make tea
for the equerries in the eating-parlour. Mrs. Delany and Miss
Port came to meet them. Mrs. Fisher seems good-natured,
cheerful, and obliging, neither well nor ill in appearance, and,
I fancy, not strongly marked in any way. But she adores Mr.
Fisher, and has brought him a large fortune.
The Princess Amelia was brought by Mrs. Cheveley, to fetch Mrs.
Delany to the queen. Mrs. Fisher was much delighted in seeing
her royal highness, who, when in a grave humour, does 'the
honours of her rank with a seriousness extremely entertaining.
She commands the company to sit down, holds out her little fat
hand to be kissed, and makes a distant courtesy, with an air of
complacency and encouragement that might suit any princess of
five times her age.
I had much discourse, while the rest were engaged, with Mr.
Fisher, about my ever-valued, ever-regretted Mrs. Thrale. Can I
call her by another name, loving that name so long, so well, for
her and her sake? He gave me concern by information that she is
now publishing, not only the "Letters " of Dr. Johnson, but her
own. How strange!
Jan. 4.-In the morning, Mrs. Schwellenberg presented me, from the
queen, with a new year's gift. It is plate, and very elegant.
The queen, I find, makes presents to her whole household every
year: more or less, according to some standard of their claims
which she sets up, very properly, in her own mind.
CHATTY MR. BRYANT AGAIN.
Jan. 8.-I met Mr. Bryant, who came, by appointment to give me
that pleasure. He was in very high spirits, full Of anecdote and
amusement. He has as much good-humoured
Page 73
chit-chat and entertaining gossiping as if he had given no time
to the classics and his studies, instead of having nearly devoted
his life to them. One or two of his little anecdotes I will try
to recollect.
in the year thirty-three of this century, and in his own memory,
there was a cause brought before a judge, between two highwaymen,
who had quarrelled about the division of their booty; and these
men had the effrontery to bring their dispute to trial. "In the
petition of the plaintiff," said Mr. Bryant, "he asserted that he
had been extremely ill-used by the defendant: that they had
carried on a very advantageous trade together, upon Black-heath,
Hounslow-heath, Bagshot-heath, and other places; that their
business chiefly consisted in watches, wearing apparel, and
trinkets of all sorts, as well as large concerns between them in
cash; that they had agreed to an equitable partition of all
profits, and that this agreement had been violated. So impudent
a thing, the judge said, was never before brought out in a court,
and so he refused to pass sentence in favour of either of them,
and dismissed them from the court."
Then he told us a great number of comic slip-slops, of the first
Lord Baltimore, who made a constant misuse of one word for
another: for instance, "I have been," says he, "upon a little
excoriation to see a ship lanced; and there is not a finer going
vessel upon the face of God's earth: you've no idiom how well it
sailed."
Having given us this elegant specimen of the language of one
lord, he proceeded to give us one equally forcible of the
understanding of another. The late Lord Plymouth, meeting in a
country town with a puppet-show, was induced to see it; and, from
the high entertainment he received through Punch, he determined
to buy him, and accordingly asked his price, and paid it, and
carried the puppet to his country-house, that he might be
diverted with him at any odd hour. Mr. Bryant protests he met
the same troop Just as the purchase had been made, and went
himself to the puppet-show, which was exhibited senza punch!
Next he spoke upon the Mysteries, or origin of our theatrical
entertainments, and repeated the plan and conduct Of several Of
these strange compositions, in particular one he remembered which
was called "Noah's Ark," and in which that patriarch and his
sons, just previous to the Deluge, made it all their delight to
speed themselves into the ark without Mrs. Noah,
Page 74
whom they wished to escape; but she surprised them just as they
had embarked, and made so prodigious a racket against the door
that, after a long and violent contention, she forced them to
open it, and gained admission, having first content, them by
being kept out till she was thoroughly wet to the skin. These
most eccentric and unaccountable dramas filled up the chief of
our conversation.
DR. JOHNSON's LETTERS To MRS. THRALE DISCUSSED.
Wednesday, Jan. 9.-To-day Mrs. Schwellenberg did me a real
favour, and with real good nature; for she sent me the "Letters"
of my poor lost friends, Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale,(249) which
she knew me to be almost pining to procure. The book belongs to
the Bishop of Carlisle, who lent it to Mr. Turbulent, from whom
it was again lent to the queen, and so passed on to Mrs.
Schwellenberg. It is still unpublished.(249)
With what a sadness have I been reading!--what scenes in it
revived!--what regrets renewed! These letters have not been more
improperly published in the whole, than they are injudiciously
displayed in their several parts. She has all--every word--and
thinks that, perhaps, a justice to Dr. Johnson, which, in fact,
is the greatest injury to his memory. The few she has selected
of her own do her, indeed, much credit; she has discarded all
that were trivial and merely local, and given only such as
contain something instructive, amusing, or ingenious.
About four of the letters, however, of my ever-revered Dr.
Johnson are truly worthy his exalted powers: one is upon death,
in considering its approach as we are surrounded, or not by
mourners; another, upon the sudden and premature loss of poor
Mrs. Thrale's darling and only son.(250)
Our name once occurs: how I started at its sight It is to mention
the party that planned the first visit to our house: Miss Owen,
Mr. Seward, Mrs. and Miss Thrale, and Dr. Johnson. How well
shall we ever, my Susan, remember that morning!
I have had so many attacks upon her subject, that at last I
fairly begged quarter,--and frankly owned to Mrs. Schwellenberg
that I could not endure to speak any more upon the matter,
endeavouring, at the same time, to explain to her my
Page 75
long and intimate connection with the family. Yet nothing I
could say put a stop to "How can you defend her in this?--how can
you justify her in that?"" etc. Alas! that I cannot defend her
is precisely the reason I can so ill bear to speak of her. How
differently and how sweetly has the queen conducted herself -upon
this occasion! Eager to see the "Letters," she began reading
them with the utmost avidity : a natural curiosity arose to be
informed of several names and several particulars, which she knew
I could satisfy; yet, when she perceived how tender a string she
touched, she soon suppressed her inquiries, or only made them
with so much gentleness towards the parties mentioned, that I
could not be distressed in my answers; and even In a short time I
found her questions made so favourable a disposition, that I
began secretly to rejoice in them, as the means by which I reaped
opportunity of clearing several points that had been darkened by
calumny, and of softening others that had been viewed wholly
through false lights.
Jan. 10.-When we were summoned to the tea-room I met Miss de Luc
coming out. I asked if she did not stay tea? "O How can I,"
cried she, in a voice of distress, "when already, as there is
company here without me, Mrs. Schwellenberg has asked me what I
came for?" I was quite shocked for her, and could only shrug in
dismay and let her pass. When there is no one else she is
courted to stay!
Mr. and Mrs. Fisher came soon after; and the Princesses Augusta
and Amelia fetched away Mrs. Delany.
Soon after Colonel Wellbred came, ushering in Mr. Fairly and his
young son, who is at Eton school. I had seen Mr. F. but once
since his great and heavy loss, though now near half a year had
elapsed. So great a personal alteration in a few months I have
seldom seen: thin, haggard, worn with care, grief, and watching--
his hair turned grey--white, rather, and some of his front teeth
vanished. He seemed to have suffered, through his feelings, the
depredations suffered by Others through age and time. His
demeanour, upon this trying occasion, filled me with as much
admiration as his countenance did with compassion : calm,
composed, and gentle, he seemed bent on appearing not only
resigned, but cheerful. I might even have supposed him verging
on being happy, had not the havoc of grief on his face, and the
tone of deep melancholy in his voice, assured me his Solitude was
all sacred to his sorrows.
Page 76
Mr. Fisher was very sad himself, grieving at the death of Dr.
Harley, Dean of Windsor and Bishop of Hereford. He began,
however, talking to me of these "Letters," and, with him, I could
speak of them, and of their publisher, without reserve: but the
moment they were named Mrs. Schwellenberg uttered such hard and
harsh things, that I could not keep my seat and the less,
because, knowing my strong friendship there in former days, I was
sure it was meant I should be hurt, I attempted not to speak,
well aware all defence is irritation, where an attack is made
from ill-nature, not justice.
The gentle Mr. Fisher, sorry for the cause and the effect of this
assault, tried vainly to turn it aside: what began with censure
soon proceeded to invective; and at last, being really sick from
crowding recollections of past scenes, where the person now thus
vilified had been dear and precious to my very heart, I was
forced, abruptly, to walk out of the room.
It was indifferent to me whether or not my retreat was noticed.
I have never sought to disguise the warm friendship that once
subsisted between Mrs. Thrale and myself, for I always hoped
that, where it was known, reproach might be spared to a name I
can never hear without a secret pang, even when simply mentioned.
Oh, then, how severe a one is added, when its sound is
accompanied by the hardest aspersions!
I returned when I could, and the subject was over.
When all were gone Mrs. Schwellenberg said, "I have told it Mr.
Fisher that he drove you out from the room, and he says he won't
not do it no more."
She told me next--that in the second volume I also was mentioned.
Where she may have heard this I cannot gather, but it has given
me a sickness at heart inexpressible. It is not that I expect
severity: for at the time of that correspondence--at all times,
indeed, previous to the marriage with Piozzi, if Mrs. Thrale
loved not F. B., where shall we find faith in words, or give
credit to actions? But her present resentment, however unjustly
incurred, of my constant disapprobation of her conduct, may
prompt some note, or other mark, to point out her change of
sentiments--but let me try to avoid such painful expectations; at
least, not to dwell upon them.
O, little does she know how tenderly at this moment I could run
again into her arms, so often opened to receive me with a
cordiality I believed inalienable. And it was sincere then, I am
satisfied: pride, resentment of disapprobation, and consciousness
of unjustifiable proceedings --- these have now
Page 77
changed her: but if we met, and she saw and believed my faithful
regard, how would she again feel all her own return!
Well, what a dream am I making!
Jan. 11.-Upon this ever-interesting subject, I had to-day a very
sweet scene with the queen. While Mrs. Schwellenberg and myself
were both in our usual attendance at noon, her majesty inquired
of Mrs. Schwellenberg if she had yet read any of the "Letters"?
"No," she answered, "I have them not to read."
I then said she had been so obliging as to lend them to me, to
whom they were undoubtedly of far greater personal value.
"That is true," said the queen; "for I think there is but little
in them that can be of much consequence or value to the public at
large."
"Your majesty, you will hurt Miss Burney if you speak about that;
poor Miss Burney will be quite hurt by that."
The queen looked much surprised, and I hastily exclaimed, "O,
no!--not with the gentleness her majesty names it."
Mrs. Schwellenberg then spoke in German; and, I fancy, by the
names she mentioned, recounted how Mr. Turbulent and Mr. Fisher
had "driven me out of the room."
The queen seemed extremely astonished, and I was truly vexed at
this total misunderstanding; and that the goodness she has
exerted upon this occasion should seem so little to have
succeeded. But I could not explain, lest it should seem to
reproach what was meant as kindness in Mrs. Schwellenberg, who
had not yet discovered that it was not the subject, but her own
manner of treating it, that was so painful to me.
However, the instant Mrs. Schwellenberg left the room, and we
remained alone, the queen, approaching me in the softest manner,
and looking earnestly in my face, said, "You could not be
offended, surely, at what I said."
"O no, ma'am," cried I, deeply indeed penetrated by such
unexpected condescension. "I have been longing to make a speech
to your majesty upon this matter; and it was but yesterday that I
entreated Mrs. Delany to make it for me, and to express to your
majesty the very deep sense I feel of the lenity with which this
Subject has been treated in my hearing."
"Indeed," cried she, with eyes strongly expressive of the
complacency with which she heard me, "I have always spoke as
little as possible upon this affair. I remember but twice that I
have named it: once I said to the Bishop of Carlisle,
Page 78
that I thought most of these letters had better have been spared
the printing; and once to Mr. Langton, at the Drawing-room, I
said, 'Your friend Dr. Johnson, sir, has had many friends busy to
publish his books, and his memoirs, and his meditations, and his
thoughts; but I think he wanted one friend more.' 'What for?
ma'am,' cried he; 'A friend to suppress them,' I answered. And,
indeed, this is all I ever said about the business."
A PAIR OF PARAGONS.
.....I was amply recompensed in spending an evening the most to
my natural taste of any I have spent officially under the royal
roof. How high Colonel Wellbred stands with me you know; Mr.
Fairly., with equal gentleness, good breeding, and delicacy, adds
a far more general turn for conversation, and seemed not only
ready, but pleased, to open upon subjects of such serious import
as were suited to his state of mind, and could not but be
edifying, from a man of such high moral character, to all who
heard him.
Life and death were the deep themes to which he .led; and the
little space between them, and the little value of that space
were the subject of his comments. The unhappiness of man at
least after the ardour of his first youth, and the near
worthlessness of the world, seemed so deeply impressed on his
mind, that no reflection appeared to be consolatory to it, save
the necessary shortness of our mortal career. . . .
"Indeed," said he, "there is no time--I know of none--in which
life is well worth having. The prospect before us is never such
as to make it worth preserving, except from religious motives."
I felt shocked and sorry. Has he never tasted happiness, who so
deeply drinks of sorrow? He surprised me, and filled me, indeed,
with equal wonder and pity. At a loss how to make an answer
sufficiently general, I made none at all, but referred to Colonel
Wellbred: perhaps he felt the same difficulty, for he said
nothing; and Mr. Fairly then gathered an answer for himself, by
saying, "Yes, it may, indeed, be attainable in the only actual as
well as only right way to seek it,--that of doing good!"
"If," cried Colonel Wellbred, afterwards, "I lived always in
London, I should be as tired of life as you are: I always sicken
of it there, if detained beyond a certain time."
Page 79
They then joined in a general censure of dissipated life, and a
general distaste of dissipated characters, which seemed, however,
to comprise almost all their acquaintance; and this presently
occasioned Mr. Fairly to say,
"It is, however, but fair for you and me to own, Wellbred, that
if people in general ,'are bad, we live chiefly amongst those who
are the worst."
Whether he meant any particular set to which they belong, or
whether his reflection went against people in high life, such 'as
constitute their own relations and connexions in general, I
cannot say, as he did not explain himself.
Mr. Fairly, besides the attention due to him from all, in
consideration of his late loss, merited from me peculiar
deference, in return for a mark I received of his disposition to
think favourably of me from our first acquaintance: for not more
was I surprised than pleased at his opening frankly upon the
character of my coadjutrix, and telling me at once, that when
first he saw me here, just before the Oxford expedition, he had
sincerely felt for and pitied me. . . .
Sunday, Jan. 13.-There is something in Colonel Wellbred so
elegant, so equal, and so pleasing, it is impossible not to see
him with approbation, and to speak of him with praise. But I
found in Mr. Fairly a much greater depth of understanding, and
all his sentiments seem formed upon the most perfect basis of
religious morality.
During the evening, in talking over plays and players, we all
three united warmly in panegyric of Mrs. Siddons; but when Mrs.
Jordan was named, Mr. Fairly and myself were left to make the
best of her. Observing the silence of Colonel Wellbred, we
called upon him to explain it.
"I have seen her," he answered, quietly, "but in one part."
"Whatever it was," cried Mr. Fairly, "it must have been well
done."
"Yes," answered the colonel, "and so well that it seemed to be
her real character: and I disliked her for that very reason, for
it was a character that, off the stage or on, is equally
distasteful to me--a hoyden."
I had had a little of this feeling myself when I saw her in "The
Romp,"(251) where she gave me, in the early part, a real disgust;
but afterwards she displayed such uncommon humour that it brought
me to pardon her assumed vulgarity, in favour of a representation
of nature, which, In its particular class, seemed to me quite
perfect.
Page 80
MR. TURBULENT'S SELF CONDEMNATION.
At the usual tea-time I sent Columb, to see if anybody had come
upstairs. He brought me word the eating-parlour was empty. I
determined to go thither at once, with my work, that there might
be no pretence to fetch me when the party assembled; but upon
opening the door I saw Mr. Turbulent there, and alone!
I entered with readiness into discourse with him, and showed a
disposition to placid good-will, for with so irritable a spirit
resentment has much less chance to do good than an appearance of
not supposing it deserved. Our conversation was in the utmost
gravity. He told me he was not happy, though owned he had
everything to make him so; but he was firmly persuaded that
happiness in this world was a real stranger. I combated this
misanthropy in general terms; but he assured me that such was his
unconquerable opinion of human life.
How differently did I feel when I heard an almost similar
sentiment from Mr. Fairly! In him I imputed it to unhappiness of
circumstances, and was filled with compassion for his fate: in
this person I impute it to something blameable within, and I
tried by all the arguments I could devise to give him better
notions. For him, however, I soon felt pity, though not of the
same composition : for he frankly said he was good enough to be
happy-that he thought human frailty incompatible with happiness,
and happiness with human frailty, and that he had no wish so
strong as to turn monk!
I asked him if he thought a life of uselessness and of goodness
the same thing?
"I need not be useless," he said; "I might assist by my counsels.
I might be good in a monastery--in the world I cannot! I am not
master of my feelings: I am run away by passions too potent for
control!"
This was a most unwelcome species of confidence, but I affected
to treat it as mere talk, and answered it only slightly, telling
him he spoke from the gloom of the moment.
"No," he answered, "I have tried in vain to conquer them. I have
made vows--resolutions--all in vain! I cannot keep them!"
"Is not weakness," cried I, "sometimes fancied, merely to save
the pain and trouble of exerting fortitude."
"No, it is with me inevitable. I am not formed for success in
self-conquest. I resolve--I repent--but I fall! I blame--
Page 81
reproach--I even hate myself--I do everything, in short, yet
cannot save myself! Yet do not," he continued, seeing me shrink,
"think worse of me than I deserve: nothing of injustice, of
ill-nature, of malignancy--I have nothing of these to reproach
myself with."
"I believe you," I cried, "and surely, therefore, a general
circumspection, an immediate watchfulness---"
"No, no, no--'twould be all to no purpose."
"'Tis that hopelessness which is most your enemy. If you would
but exert your better reason--"
"No, madam, no!--'tis a fruitless struggle. I know myself too
well--I can do nothing so right as to retire--to turn monk--
hermit."
"I have no respect," cried I, "for these selfish seclusions. I
can never suppose we were created in the midst of society, in
order to run away to a useless solitude. I have not a doubt but
you may do well, if you will do well."
Some time after he suddenly exclaimed, "Have you--tell me--have
you, ma'am, never done what you repent?"
O "yes!--at times."
"You have?" he cried, eagerly.
"O yes, alas!--yet not, I think, very often--for it is not very
often I have done anything!"
"And what is it has saved you?"
I really did not know well what to answer him; I could say
nothing that would not sound like parade, or implied superiority.
I suppose he was afraid himself of the latter ; for, finding me
silent, he was pleased to answer for me.
"Prejudice, education, accident!--those have saved you."
"Perhaps so," cried I. "And one thing more, I acknowledge myself
obliged to, on various occasions--fear. I run no risks that I
see--I run--but it is always away from all danger that I
perceive."
"You do not, however, call that virtue, ma'am--you do not call
that the rule of right?"
"No--I dare not--I must be content that it is certainly not the
rule of wrong."
He began then an harangue upon the universality of depravity and
frailty that I heard with much displeasure; for, it seems to me,
those most encourage such general ideas of
general worthlessness who most wish to found upon them partial
excuses for their own.
Page 82
MISS BURNEY AMONG HER OLD FRIENDS.
Jan. 31.--And now I must finish my account of this month by my
own assembly at my dear Mrs. Ord's.
I passed through the friendly hands of Miss Ord to the most
cordial ones of Mrs. Garrick,(252) who frankly embraced me,
saying, "Do I see you, once more, before I die, my tear little
spark? for your father is my flame, all my life, and you are a
little spark of that flame!"
She added how much she had wished to visit me at the queen's
house, when she found I no longer came about the world; but that
she was too discreet, and I did not dare say "Do come!"
unauthorized.
Then came Mr. Pepys, and he spoke to me instantly, of the
'Streatham Letters.' He is in agony as to his own fate, but said
there could be no doubt of my faring well. Not, I assured him,
to my own content, if named at all.
We were interrupted by Sir Joshua Reynolds. I was quite glad to
see him; and we began chatting with all our old spirit,
and he quite raved against my present life of confinement, an the
invisibility it had occasioned, etc., etc.
The approach of Mrs. Porteus stopped this. She is always most
obliging and courteous, and she came to inquire whether now she
saw I really was not wholly immured, there was any chance of a
more intimate cultivation of an acquaintance long begun, but
stopped in its first progress. I could only make a general
answer of acknowledgment to her kindness. Her bishop, whom I had
not seen since his preferment from Chester to London, joined us,
and most good-naturedly entered into discourse upon my health.
I was next called to Mrs. Montagu, who was behind with no one in
kind speeches, and who insisted upon making me a visit at the
queen's house, and would take no denial to my fixing my own time,
whenever I was at leisure, and sending her word; and she promised
to put off any and every engagement for that Purpose. I could
make no other return to such
Page 83
civility, but to desire to postpone it till my dear Mr. and Mrs.
Locke came to town, and could meet her.
Mrs. Boscawen(253) was my next little t`ete-`a-t`ete, but I had
only begun it when Mr. Cambridge came to my side.
"I can't get a word!" cried he, with a most forlorn look, "and
yet I came on purpose!" I thanked him, and felt such a real
pleasure in his sight, from old and never-varying regard, that I
began to listen to him with my usual satisfaction. He related to
me a long history of Lavant, where the new-married Mrs. Charles
Cambridge is now very unwell: and then he told me many good
things of his dear and deserving daughter; and I showed him her
muff, which she had worked for me, in embroidery, and we were
proceeding a little in the old way, when I saw Mrs. Pepys leaning
forward to hear us; and then Lady Rothes, who also seemed all
attention to Mr. Cambridge and his conversation.
The sweet Lady Mulgrave came for only a few words, not to take
me, she said, from older claimants; the good and wise Mrs.
Carter(254) expressed herself with equal kindness and goodness on
our once more meeting; Miss Port, looking beautiful as a little
angel, only once advanced to shake hands, and say, "I can see you
another time, so I won't be unreasonable now."
Mr. Smelt, who came from Kew for this party, made me the same
speech, and no more, and I had time for nothing beyond a "how do
do " with Mr. Langton, his Lady Rothes,(255) Mr. Batt, Mr.
Cholmondoley, Lord Mulgrave, Sir Lucas Pepys, and Lady Herries.
Then up came Mrs. Chapone, and, after most cordially shaking
hands with me, "But I hope," she cried, "you are not always to
appear only as a comet, to be stared at, and then vanish? If you
are, let me beg at least to be brushed by your tail, and not hear
you have disappeared before my telescope is ready for looking at
you!"
When at last I was able to sit down, after a short conference
with every one, it was next to Mr. Walpole,(256) who had secured
Page 84
me a place by his side ; and with him was my longest
conversation, for he was in high spirits, polite, ingenious,
entertaining, quaint, and original.
But all was so short!--so short!--I was forced to return home so
soon! 'Twas, however, a very great regale to me, and the sight of
so much kindness, preserved so entire after so long an absence,
warmed my whole heart with pleasure and satisfaction. My dearest
father brought me home.
SOME TRIVIAL COURT INCIDENTS.
Friday, Feb. 1.-To-day I had a summons in the morning to Mrs.
Schwellenberg, who was very ill; so ill as to fill me with
compassion. She was extremely low-spirited, and spoke to me with
quite unwonted kindness of manner, and desired me to accept a
sedan-chair, which had been Mrs. Haggerdorn's, and now devolved
to her, saying, I might as well have it while she lived as when
she was dead, which would soon happen.
I thanked her, and wished her, I am sure very sincerely, better.
Nor do I doubt her again recovering, as I have frequently seen
her much worse. True, she must die at last, but who must not?
Feb. 2.-The king always makes himself much diversion with Colonel
Goldsworthy, whose dryness of humour and pretended servility of
submission, extremely entertain him. He now attacked him upon
the enormous height of his collar, which through some mistake of
his tailor, exceeded even the extremity of fashion. And while
the king, who was examining and pulling it about, had his back to
us, Colonel Wellbred had the malice to whisper me, "Miss Burney,
I do assure you it is nothing to what it was; he has had two
inches cut off since morning!
Fortunately, as Colonel Wellbred stood next me, this was not
heard for the king would not easily have forgotten. He soon
after went away, but gave no summons to his gentlemen.
And now Colonel Wellbred gave me another proof of his
extraordinary powers of seeing. You now know, my dear friends,
that in the king's presence everybody retreats back, as far as
they can go, to leave him the room to himself. In all this,
through the disposition of the chairs, I was placed so much
behind Colonel Wellbred as to conclude myself out of his sight;
but the moment the king retired, he said, as
Page 85
we all dropped on Our seats, "Everybody is tired--Miss Burney the
most--for she has stood the stillest. Miss Planta has leant on
her chair, Colonel Goldsworthy against the wall, myself
occasionally on the screen, but Miss Burney has stood perfectly
still--I perceived that without looking."
'Tis, indeed, to us standers, an amazing addition to fatigue to
keep still.
We returned to town next day. In the morning I had had a very
disagreeable, though merely foolish, embarrassment. Detained, by
the calling in of a poor woman about a subscription, from
dressing myself, I was forced to run to the queen, at her
summons, without any cap. She smiled, but said nothing. Indeed,
she is all indulgence in those points of externals, which rather
augments than diminishes my desire of showing apparent as well as
my feeling of internal respect but just as I had assisted her
with her peignoir, Lady Effingham was admitted, and the moment
she sat down, and the hair-dresser began his office, a page
announced the Duke of York, who instantly followed his name.
I would have given the world to have run away, but the common
door of entrance and exit was locked, unfortunately, on account
of the coldness of the day; and there was none to pass, but that
by which his royal highness entered, and was standing. I was
forced. therefore, to remain, and wait for dismission.
Yet I was pleased, too, by the sight of his affectionate manner
to his royal mother. He flew to take and kiss her hand, but she
gave him her cheek; and then he began a conversation with her, so
open and so gay, that he seemed talking to the most intimate
associate.
His subject was Lady Augusta Campbell's elopement from. the
masquerade. The Duchess of Ancaster had received masks at her
house on Monday, and sent tickets to all the queen's household.
I, amongst the rest, had one; but it was impossible I could be
spared at such an hour, though the queen told me that she had
thought of my going, but could not manage it, as Mrs.
Schwellenberg was so ill. Miss Planta went, and I had the entire
equipment of her. I started the Project of dressing her at Mrs.
Delany's, in all the most antique and old-fashioned things we
could borrow; and this was Put very happily in execution, for she
was, I have heard, one of the best and most grotesque figures in
the room.
(239) Henry William Bunbury, the well-known caricaturist. He was
connected by marriage with Colonel Gwynn, having married, in
1771, Catherine, the "Little Comedy," sister of the "Jessamy
Bride."-ED.
(240) i.e., of the Play which was to be read by Mrs. Siddons.
See P- 55.-ED.
(241) This excellent comedy was completed by Colley Cibber, from
an unfinished play of Sir John Vanbrugh's.-ED.
(242) See note 210, ante, vol. 1, P. 370.-ED.
(243) Mr. Anthony Shepherd, Plumian Professor of Astronomy at
Cambridge. We meet with him occasionally in the "Early Diary:"
"dullness itself" Fanny once calls him (in 1774).-ED.
(244) Fanny's maid.-ED.
(245) Susan Phillips and the Lockes had stayed at Windsor from
the 10th to the 17th of September.-ED.
(246) This magnificent panegyric relates to a young amateur,
William Locke, the son of Fanny's friends, Mr. and Mrs. Locke.
But there was more than a little of the amateur about Mr.
Bunbury himself. His works bear no comparison with those of the
great masters of caricatured Rowlandson and Gulray.-ED.
(247) Fanny's man-servant, a Swiss.-ED.
(248) Mr. Fisher was a canon at Windsor, and an amateur
landscape-painter. He had recently married.-ED.
(249) "Letters to and from Dr. Johnson," published by Mrs. Piozzi
in 1788.-ED.
(250) Thrale's only son died, a child, in March, 1776.--ED.
(251) A farce, adapted from Bickerstaff's opera, "Love in the
City."-ED.
(252) Eva Maria Feigel, a Viennese dancer, whom Garrick married
in 1749. Fanny writes of her in 1771: "Mrs. Garrick is the most
attentively polite and perfectly well-bred woman in the world;
her speech is all softness; her manners all elegance; her smiles
all sweetness. There is something so peculiarly graceful in her
motion, and pleasing in her address, that the most trifling words
have weight and power, when spoken by her, to oblige and even
delight." ("Early Diary," vol. i. p. 111.) She died in 1822;
her husband in 1779.-ED.
(253) The Hon. Mrs. Boscawen, widow of Admiral Boscawen.-ED.
(254) Elizabeth Carter, the celebrated translator of Epictetus.
She was now in her seventieth year, and had been for many years
an esteemed friend of Dr. Johnson. She died in 1806.-ED. , '
(255) Mr. Langton's wife was the Countess dowager of Rothes,
widow of the eighth earl. Lady Jane Leslie, who married Sir
Lucas Pepys, the physician, also enjoyed, in her own right, the
title of Countess of Rothes.-ED.
(256) Horace Walpole. -E D.
Page 86
SECTION 12.
(1788.)
THE TRIAL OF WARREN HASTINGS.
[Probably few events in the history of England are more familiar
to the general reader than the trial of Warren Hastings. If
nowhere else, at least in the best known and, perhaps, most
brilliant of Macaulay's essays every one has read of the career
of that extraordinary man, and of the long contest in Westminster
Hall, from which he came forth acquitted, after an ordeal of
seven years' duration. We shall, accordingly, confine our
remarks upon this subject within the narrowest limits consistent
with intelligibility: Fanny's experiences of the trial, recorded
in the following pages, rendering some review of the proceedings
which caused it here indispensable.
Warren Hastings was a lad of seventeen when, in 1750, he was
first sent out to India as a writer in the East India Company's
service. His abilities attracted the notice of Clive, and, after
the downfall of the Nawab Suraj-u-Dowlah, Hastings was chosen to
represent the Company at the Court of Mir Jafir, the new Nawab of
Bengal. In 1761 he was appointed Member of Council at Calcutta,
and he returned to England in 1765, unknown as yet to fame, but
with an excellent reputation both for efficiency and integrity.
He left Bengal in a state of anarchy. The actual power was in
the possession of a trading company, whose objects were at once
to fill their coffers, and to avoid unnecessary political
complications. The show of authority was invested in a Nawab who
was a mere puppet in the hands of the English company. Disorder
was rampant throughout the provinces, and the unhappy Hindoos,
unprotected by their native princes, were left a helpless prey to
the rapacity of their foreign tyrants.
At a time when to enrich himself with the plunder of the natives
was the aim of every servant of the East India Company, it is
much to the honour of Hastings that he returned home a
comparatively poor man. In England he indulged his taste for
literary society, busied himself with a scheme for introducing at
Page 87
oxford the study of the Persian language and literature, and made
the acquaintance of Dr. Johnson. But generosity and imprudence
together soon reduced his small means. He applied to the
Directors of the Company for employment, was appointed to a seat
on the Council at Madras, and made his second voyage to India in
1769. Among his fellow-passengers on board the "Duke of Grafton"
was Madame Imhoff, whom he afterwards married.
At Madras Hastings managed the export business of the Company
with conspicuous success, and so completely to the satisfaction
of the Directors, that, two years later, he was promoted to the
governorship of Bengal, and sent to exercise his administrative
ability and genius for reform -%N here they were then 'greatly
needed-at Calcutta. With this appointment his historic career
may be said to commence. He found himself at the outset in a
situation of extreme difficulty. He was required to establish
something- resembling a stable government in place of the
prevailing anarchy, and, above all things, with disordered
finances, to satisfy the expectations of his' employers by
constant remittances of money. Both these tasks he accomplished,
but the difficulties in the way of the latter led him to the
commission of those acts for which he was afterwards denounced by
his enemies as a monster of injustice and barbarity.
Hastings's conduct with respect to the Great Mogul has been
sketched by Macaulay in words which imply a reprehension in
reality undeserved. Little remained at this time of the
magnificent empire of Aurungzebe beyond a title and a palace at
Delhi. In 1765 Lord Clive had ceded to the titular master of the
Mogul empire the districts of Corah and Allahabad, lying to the
south of Oude, and westwards of Benares. The cession had been
made in pursuance of the same policy which Hastings afterwards
followed; that, namely, of sheltering the British possessions
behind a barrier of friendly states, which should be sufficiently
strong to withstand the incursions of their hostile neighbours,
and particularly of the Mahrattas, the most warlike and dreaded
of the native powers. But Clive's purpose had been completely
frustrated; for the Mogul, far from shielding the English, had
not been able to hold his own against the Mahrattas, to whom he
had actually ceded the very territories made over to him by the
Company. Under these circumstances the English authorities can
hardly be blamed for causing their troops to re-occupy the
districts in question, nor can it fairly be imputed as a crime to
Hastings that in September, 1773, he concluded with the Vizier of
Oude the treaty of Benares, by which he sold Allahabad and Corah
to that friendly potentate for about half a million sterling.
But the next act of foreign policy on the part of the Governor of
Bengal--his share in the subjugation of the Rohillas--does not
admit of so favourable an interpretation. The Rohillas occupied
territory lying under the southern slopes of the Himalayas, to
the north-west of Oude. The dominant race in Rohilcund was of
Page 88
Afghan origin, although the majority of the population was
Hindoo. Of the rulers of Rohilcund Hastings himself wrote, in
terms which we may accept as accurate, "They are a tribe of
Afghans or Pathans, freebooters who conquered the country about
sixty years ago, and have ever since lived upon the fruits of it,
without contributing either to its cultivation or manufactures,
or even mixing with the native inhabitants."(257)
In 1772, the Rohillas, hard pressed by their foes, the Mahrattas,
sought the assistance of the Vizier of Oude, Shuja-u-Dowlah, to
whom they agreed to pay, in return for his aid, a large sum of
money. This agreement was signed in the presence of an English
general, and an English brigade accompanied the vizier's army,
which co-operated with the Rohilla forces, and obliged the
Mahrattas to withdraw. But when Shula-u-Dowlah demanded his
promised hire, he received from the Rohillas plenty of excuses
but no money. Hereupon he resolved to annex Rohilcund to his own
dominions, and, to ensure success, he concerted measures with
Hastings, who, willing at once to strengthen a friendly power and
to put money into his own exchequer, placed an English brigade at
the vizier's disposal for a consideration Of 400,000 pounds. In
the spring of 1774 the invasion took place. The desperate
bravery of the Rohillas was of no avail against English
discipline, and the country was so reduced to submission.
Macaulay's stirring account of the barbarities practised by the
invaders has been proved to be greatly exaggerated. Disorders,
however, there were: the people were plundered, and some of the
villages were burnt by the vizier's troops. Many of the Rohilla
families were exiled, but the Hindoo inhabitants of Rohilcund
were left to till their fields as before, and were probably not
greatly affected by their change of master.
Hastings's conduct in this affair is, from the most favourable
point of view, rather to be excused than applauded. It may have
been politic under the circumstances, but it was hardly in
accordance with a high standard of morality to let out on hire an
English force for the subjugation of a people who, whatever
grounds of complaint the Vizier of Oude might have had against
them, had certainly given no provocation whatsoever to the
English Government. As to the plea which has been put forward in
his favour, that the Rohillas were merely the conquerors, and not
the original owners of Rohilcund, it is sufficiently answered, by
Macaulay's query, "What were the English themselves?"
In 1773 Lord North's "Regulating Act" introduced considerable
changes in the constitution of the Indian government, and marked
the first step in the direction of a transfer of the control over
Indian affairs from the Company to the Crown. By this act "the
governorship of Bengal, Bahar, and Orissa was vested in the
Governor-General, with four Councillors, having authority over
Page 89
Madras and Bombay ; and all correspondence relating to civil
government or military affairs was to be laid by the Directors of
the Company in London before his -Majesty's Ministers, who Could
disapprove or cancel any rules or orders. A Supreme Court of
judicature, appointed by the Crown, was established in
Calcutta."(258) The Governor-General was appointed for a term of
five years, and the first Governor-General was Hastings. Of the
four councillors with whom he was associated, three were sent out
from England to take their places at the board, and landed at
Calcutta, together with the judges of the Supreme Court, in
October, 1771. Indisputably the ablest, and, as it proved,
historically the most noteworthy of these three, was Philip
Francis, the supposed author of "Junius's Letters."
Even before the council commenced its duties dissensions arose.
The newcomers, Francis, Clavering, and Monson, were in constant
opposition to the Governor-General. Indeed, the hostility
between Hastings and Francis rose by degrees to such a height
that, some years later, they met in a duel, in which Francis was
severely wounded. For the present, however, the opponents of
Hastings formed a majority on the council, and his authority was
in eclipse. His ill-wishers in the country began to bestir
themselves, and a scandalous and, there is no doubt, utterly
untrue charge of accepting bribes was brought against him by an
old enemy, the Maharajah Nuncomar. Hastings replied by
prosecuting Nuncomar and his allies for conspiracy. The accused
were admitted to bail, but a little later Nuncomar was arrested
on a charge of having forged a bond some years previously, tried
before an English jury, condemned to death, and hanged, August 5,
1775, his application for leave to appeal having been rejected by
the Chief justice, Sir Elijah Impey. Hastings solemnly declared
his innocence of any share in this transaction, nor is there any
evidence directly implicating him. On the other hand, it must he
remembered that Nuncomar had preferred a most serious charge
against Hastings; that the majority on the council were only too
ready to listen to any charge, well or ill founded, against the
Governor-General; and that Nuncomar's triumph would, in all
probability, have meant Hastings's ruin. Even Mr. Forrest admits
that "it is extremely probable, as Francis stated, that if
Nuncomar had never stood forth in politics, his other offences
would not have hurt him."(259) Macaulay comments upon the
scandal of this stringent enforcement Of the English law against
forgery under circumstances so peculiar, and in a country where
the English law was totally unknown.(260) That Nuncomar was
fairly tried and convicted
Page 90
in the ordinary course of law is now beyond doubt, but we still
hold that it was Impey's clear duty to respite his prisoner.
That he did not do so is a fact which, beyond all others, gave
colour to the assertion of Hastings's enemies, that the execution
of Nuncomar was the result of a secret understanding between the
Governor-General of Bengal and the Chief justice of the Supreme
Court. But, however brought about, the death of Nuncomar was to
the opponents of Hastings a blow from which they never recovered.
The death of Monson, in September, 1776, and that of Clavering, a
year later, placed him in a majority on the council ; his
authority was more undisputed than ever ; and at the expiration
of his term he was re-appointed Governor-General.
During the years 1780 and 1781 British rule in India passed
through the most dangerous crisis that had befallen it since the
days of Clive. A formidable confederacy had been formed between
the Nizam, the Mahrattas, and the famous Hyder Ali, Sultan of
Mysore, with the object of crushing their common enemy, the
English. The hostility of these powerful states had been
provoked by the blundering and bad faith of the governments of
Bombay and Madras, which had made, and broken, treaties with each
of them in turn. "As to the Mahrattas," to quote the words of
Burke, "they had so many cross treaties with the states general
of that nation, and with each of the chiefs, that it was
notorious that no one of these agreements could be kept without
grossly violating the rest."(261) The war in which the Bombay
Government had engaged with the Mahrattas had been as
unsuccessful in its prosecution as it was impolitic in its
commencement, until, early in 1780, a force under General Goddard
was dispatched from Bengal to co-operate with the Bombay troops.
Goddard's arrival turned the tide of events. The province of
Gujerat was reduced, the Mahratta chiefs, Sindia and Holkar, were
defeated, and everything portended a favourable termination of
the war, when the whole face of affairs was changed by news from
the south.
Hyder Ali, the most able and warlike of the native princes, swept
down upon the Carnatic in July, 1780, at the head of a
disciplined army of nearly 100,000 men. He was now an old man,
but age had not broken his vigour. He rapidly overran the
country; an English force, under Colonel Baillie, which opposed
him, was cut to pieces, and Madras itself was threatened. The
prompt measures adopted by Hastings on this occasion saved the
colony. Reinforcements were hurried to Madras; the veteran, Sir
Eyre Coote, was entrusted with the command of the army; and the
triumphant
Page 91
career of Hyder Ali was checked by the victory of Porto Novo,
July 1st, 1781. The end of the war, however, was yet far off.
Peace was concluded with the Mahrattas, on terms honourable to
them, in 1782, but in the south the struggle was still maintained
by Hyder Ali and his French allies, and after Hyder Ali's death,
in December of that year, by his son Tippoo; nor was it brought
to a termination until after the general peace Of 1783.
To support the financial strain of these wars Hastings had
recourse to measures which, with the colouring given to them by
his enemies, gave subsequent rise to two of the heaviest charges
brought forward by the managers of his impeachment. His first
victim was Cheyt Sing, the Rajah of Benares, a tributary of the
English Government. Cheyt Sing had been formerly a vassal of the
Vizier of Oude, and when, in 1775, the vizier transferred his
sovereign rights over Benares to the English, the Bengal
Government confirmed the possession of the city and its
dependencies to Cheyt Sing and his heirs for ever, stipulating
only for the payment of an annual tribute, and undertaking that
the regular payment of this tribute should acquit the Rajah of
further obligations. It was afterwards contended on behalf of
Hastings that this undertaking did not annul the right of the
superior power to call upon its vassal for extraordinary aid on
extraordinary occasions, and this view was upheld by Pitt.
Hastings began operations in 1778 by demanding of the Rajah, in
addition to his settled tribute, a large contribution towards the
war expenses. The sum was paid, but similar requisitions in the
following years were met with procrastination or evasion, and a
demand that the Rajah should furnish a contingent of cavalry was
not complied with. This conduct on the part of Cheyt Sing
appeared to the Governor-General and his Council "to require
early punishment, and, as his wealth was great and the Company's
exigencies pressing," in 1781 a fine of fifty lakhs, of rupees
(500,000 pounds) was laid upon the unlucky Rajah; Hastings
himself proceeding to Benares, with a small escort, to enforce
payment. Cheyt Sing received his unwelcome visitor with due
respect, but with ambiguous answers, and Hastings, most
imprudently, gave the order for the Rajah's arrest. The Rajah
submitted, but his troops and the population of Benares rose to
the rescue : a portion of Hastings's little force was massacred,
the Rajah regained his liberty, and the Governor-General found
safety only in flight. The insurrection rapidly spread to the
country around, and assumed dangerous proportions, but the
promptitude and vigour of-Hastings soon restored order. Cheyt
Sing was deposed, compelled to flee his country, his estates were
confiscated, and a new Rajah of Benares was appointed in his
stead.
The charge subsequently preferred against Hastings in connection
with this affair turned upon the question whether Cheyt Sing Was,
as the prosecutors affirmed, a sovereign prince who owed no duty
to the Bengal government beyond the payment (which he
Page 92
had regularly performed) of a fixed annual tribute; or as
Hastings contended, a mere feudal vassal, bound to furnish aid
when called upon by his over-lord. Pitt, as we have said, took
the latter view, yet he gave his support to the charge on the
ground that the fine imposed upon the Rajah of Benares was
excessive., Upon the whole, it would appear that Hastings was
acting within his rights in demanding an extraordinary subsidy
from the Rajah but the enormous amount of the fine, and the
harshness and in' dignity with which Cheyt Sing was treated,
point to a determination on the part of the Governor-General to
ruin a subject prince, with whom, moreover, it was known he had
personal grounds of pique.
The deposition of Cheyt Sing was followed by an act on which was
afterwards founded the most sensational of all the charges
brought against Warren Hastings. Shuja-u-Dowlah, the Nawab
Vizier of Oude, to whom Hastings had sold the Rohillas, died in
1775, and was succeeded by his son Asaph-u-Dowlah. At the time
of his death Shuja-u-Dowlah was deeply in debt, both to his own
army and to the Bengal Government. The treasure which he left
was estimated at two millions sterling, but this vast sum of
money and certain rich estates were appropriated by his mother
and widow, the begums, or princesses, of Oude, under the pretence
of a will which may possibly have existed, but was certainly
never Produced. With this wealth at their disposal the begums
enjoyed a practical independence of the new vizier, who was no
match in energy and resolution for his mother and grandmother. A
small portion, however, of the money was paid over to the vizier,
on the understanding, guaranteed by the Bengal Government, that
the begums should be left in undisturbed enjoyment of the
remainder of their possessions. Hastings believed, and, it would
seem, on good grounds, that the younger begum had busied herself
actively in fomenting the insurrection which broke out upon the
arrest of Cheyt Sing at Benares. He conceived a plan by which he
might at once punish the rebellious princesses, and secure for
the exchequer at Calcutta the arrears of debt due from the
Government of Oude. He withdrew the guarantee, and urged the
Vizier to seize upon the estates possessed by the begums.
Asaph-u-Dowlah came willingly into the arrangement, but, when it
became necessary to act, his heart failed him. Hastings,
however, was not to be trifled with. English troops were
employed: the begums were closely confined in their palace at
Fyzabad; and, to the lasting disgrace of Hastings, their personal
attendants were starved and even tortured, until they consented
to surrender their money and estates. Hastings's conduct in
withdrawing the guarantee was not without justification ; the
means which he suffered to be employed in carrying out his
purpose, and for the employment of which he must be held
primarily responsible, were utterly indefensible.
Page 93
Long before his return to England, the Governor-General's
proceedings had engaged no little share of public attention in
this country. In Parliament
the attack was led by Burke and Fox;
Hastings's chief defender was one Major Scott, an Indian officer
whom he had sent over to England as his agent in 1780, and who
maintained his patron's cause by voice and pen, in Parliament and
in the press, with far more energy than discretion. In 1784 Mrs.
Hastings arrived in England, bringing home with her, says
Wraxall, "about 40,000 pounds, acquired without her husband's
privity or approval;" and a year later her husband followed her,
having
resigned his Governor-Generalship. The fortune which he now
possessed was moderate, his opportunities considered, and had
been honourably acquired; for his motives had never been
mercenary, and the money which he had wrung from Indian princes
had invariably been applied to the service of the Company or the
necessities of his administration. He was received with honour
by the Directors and with favour by the Court. There was talk of
a peerage for him, and he believed himself not only beyond
danger, but in the direct road to reward and distinction. But
all this was the calm which preceded the storm. The enemies of
Hastings were active and bitterly in earnest, and they were
receiving invaluable assistance from his old opponent in council,
Francis, who had returned to England in 1781. In April, 1786,
the charges, drawn up by Burke, were laid on the table of the
House of Commons. The first charge, respecting the Rohilla war,
was thrown out by the House, ministers siding with the accused.
But on the second charge, relating to the Rajah of Benares, the
Prime Minister, Pitt, declared against Hastings on the ground
that, although the Governor-General had the right to impose a
fine upon his vassal, the amount of the fine was excessive, and
the motion was affirmed by a majority of forty votes. Early the
next session, in February, 1787, Sheridan moved the third charge,
touching the begums of Oude, in a speech which was pronounced the
most brilliant ever delivered in the House of Commons. The
majority against Hastings was on this occasion increased to one
hundred and seven, Pitt, as before, supporting the motion. Other
charges of oppression and corruption were then gone into and
affirmed, and in May, by order of the House, Burke formally
impeached Warren Hastings of high crimes and misdemeanours at the
bar of the House of Lords. The accused was admitted to bail,
himself in 20,000 pounds, and two sureties in 10,000 pounds each.
The Committee of Management, elected by the Commons to conduct
the impeachment, included Burke and Fox, Sheridan and Windham,
and the trial was opened before the Lords, in Westminster Hall,
on the 13th of February, 1788.
After two days occupied in reading the charges and the
defendant's replies, Burke arose and opened the case for the
prosecution in a speech full of eloquent exaggeration and
honourable
Page 94
zeal in the cause of an oppressed people. He spoke during days,
after which the Benares charge was brought forward by Fox and
Grey (afterwards Earl Grey), the youngest of the managers, and
that relating to the Begums by Adam and Sheridan. The court then
adjourned to the next session. But it is unnecessary here to
follow the details of this famous trial which "dragged its slow
length along" for seven years. In the spring of 1795 Hastings
was acquitted, by a large majority, on all counts; and, although
his conduct had, in some particulars, been far from faultless,
and the sincerity of his principal accusers was beyond question,
his acquittal must be owned as just as it was honourable,
especially when we remember that his action had been entirely
uninfluenced by considerations of private advantage, that he had
endured for so many anxious years the burden of an impeachment,
that he was ruined in fortune by the expenses of the trial, and
that his great services to his country had been left wholly
without reward.
His poverty, however, was relieved by the Directors of the East
India Company, who bestowed upon him a pension of 4,000 a year,
and he passed the remainder of his long life in honourable
retirement. He died in 1818, his wife, to whom he was always
devotedly attached, surviving him by a few Years.
The following section contains little besides the account of
Fanny's visits to Westminster Hall during the early days of the
trial. One other event, however, it relates, of sorrowful
significance to the diarist. By the death of Mrs. Delany, on the
11th of April, 17; she lost at once a dear and venerated friend,
and her only occasional refuge from the odious tyranny of Court
routine.-ED.]
Page 95
WESTMINSTER HALL AT THE OPENING OF THE HASTINGS TRIAL.
February 13th.
O what an interesting transaction does this day open! a day,
indeed, of strong emotion to me, though all upon matters foreign
to any immediate concern of my own--if anything may be called
foreign that deeply interests us, merely because it is not
personal.
The trial, so long impending, of Mr. Hastings, opened to-day.
The queen yesterday asked me if I wished to be present at the
beginning, or had rather take another day. I was greatly obliged
by her condescension, and preferred the opening. I thought it
would give me a general view of the court, and the manner of
proceeding, and that I might read hereafter the speeches and
evidence. She then told me she had six tickets from Sir Peter
Burrell, the grand chamberlain, for every day; that three were
for his box, and three for his gallery. She asked me who I would
go with, and promised me a box-ticket not only for myself, but my
companion. Nor was this consideration all she showed me for she
added, that as I might naturally wish for my father, she would
have me send him my other ticket.
I thanked her very gratefully, and after dinner went to St.
Martin's-street; but all there was embarrassing: my father could
not go; he was averse to be present at the trial, and he was a
little lame from a fall. In the end I sent an express to
Hammersmith, to desire Charles(262) to come to me the next
morning by eight o'clock. I was very sorry not to have my
father, as he had been named by the queen; but I was glad to have
Charles.
I told her majesty at night the step I had ventured to take, and
she was perfectly content with it. "But I must trouble you," she
said, "with Miss Gomme, who has no other way to go."
This morning the queen dispensed with all attendance from me
after her first dressing, that I might haste away. Mrs.
Schwellenberg was fortunately well enough to take the whole duty,
and the sweet queen not only hurried me off, but sent me some
cakes from her own breakfast-table, that I might
Page 96
carry them, in my pocket, lest I should have no time for eating
before I went.
Charles was not in time, but we all did well in the end We got to
Westminster Hall between nine and ten O'clock; and, as I know my
dear Susan, like my-self, was never at a trial, I will
give some account of the place and arrangements'; and whether the
description be new to her or old, my partial Fredy will not blame
it.
The grand chamberlain's box Is in the centre of the upper end of
the Hall: there we sat, Miss Gomme and myself, immediately behind
the chair placed for Sir Peter Burrell. To the left, on the same
level, were the green benches for the House of Commons, which
occupied a third of the upper end of the Hall, and the whole of
the left side: to the right of us, on the same level, was the
grand chamberlain's gallery.
The right side of the Hall, opposite to the green benches for the
commons, was appropriated to the peeresses and peers' daughters.
The bottom of the Hall contained the royal family's box and the
lord high steward's, above which was a large gallery appointed
for receiving company with peers' tickets.
A gallery also was run along the left side of the Hall, above the
green benches, which is called the Duke of Newcastle's box, the
centre of which was railed off into a separate apartment for the
reception of the queen and four eldest princesses, who were then
incog., not choosing to appear in state, and in their own box.
Along the right side of the Hall ran another gallery, over the
seats of the peeresses, and this was divided into boxes for
various people--the lord chamberlain, (not the great
chamberlain,) the surveyor, architect, etc.
So much for all the raised buildings ; now for the disposition of
the Hall itself, or ground. In the middle was placed a large
table, and at the head of it the seat for the chancellor, and
round it seats for the judges, the masters in chancery, the
clerks, and all who belonged to the law; the upper end, and the
right side of the room, was allotted to the peers in their robes;
the left side to the bishops and archbishops.
Immediately below the great chamberlain's box was the place
allotted for the prisoner. On his right side was a box for his
own counsel, on his left the box for the managers, or committee,
for the prosecution; and these three most important of all the
divisions in the Hall were all directly adjoining to where I was
seated.
Almost the moment I entered I was spoken to by a lady I
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did not recollect, but found afterwards to be Lady Claremont and
this proved very agreeable, for she took Sir Peter's place: and
said she would occupy it till he claimed it; and then, when just
before me, she named to me all the order of the buildings, and
all the company, pointing out every distinguished person, and
most obligingly desiring me to ask her any questions I wanted to
have solved, as she knew, she said, "all those creatures that
filled the green benches, looking so little like gentlemen, and
so much like hair-dressers," These were the Commons. In truth,
she did the honours of the Hall to me with as much good nature
and good breeding as if I had been a foreigner of distinction, to
whom she had dedicated her time and attention. My acquaintance
with her had been made formerly at Mrs. Vesey's.
The business did not begin till near twelve o'clock. The opening
to the whole then took place, by the entrance of the managers of
the prosecution; all the company were already long in their boxes
or galleries. I shuddered, and drew Involuntarily back, when, as
the doors were flung open, I saw Mr. Burke, as head of the
committee, make his solemn entry. He held a scroll in his hand,
and walked alone, his brow knit with corroding care and deep
labouring thought,---a brow how different to that which had
proved so alluring to my warmest admiration when first I met him!
so highly as he had been my favourite, so captivating as I had
found his manners; and conversation in our first acquaintance,
and so much as I had owed to his zeal and kindness to me and my
affairs in its progress! How did I grieve to behold him now the
cruel prosecutor (such to me he appeared) of an injured and
innocent man!
Mr. Fox followed next, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Windham, Messrs.
Anstruther, Grey, Adam, Michael Angelo Taylor, Pelham, Colonel
North, Mr. Frederick Montagu, Sir Gilbert Elliot, General
Burgoyne, Dudley Long, etc. They were all named over to me by
Lady Claremont, or I should not have recollected even those of my
acquaintance, from the shortness of my sight,
When the committee box was filled the House of Commons at large
took their seats on their green benches, which stretched, as I
have said, along the whole left side of the Hall, and, taking in
a third of the upper end, joined to the great Chamberlain's box,
from which nothing separated them but a Partition of about two
feet in height.
Then began the procession, the clerks entering first, then
Page 98
the lawyers according to their rank, and the peers, bishops, and
officers, all in their coronation robes; concluding with the
princes of the blood,--Prince William, son to the Duke of
Gloucester, coming first, then the Dukes of Cumberland,
Gloucester, and York, then the Prince of Wales; and the whole
ending by the chancellor, with his train borne. They then all
took their seats.
WARREN HASTINGS APPEARS AT THE BAR.
A sergeant-at- arms arose, and commanded silence in court, on
pain of imprisonment. Then some other officer, in a loud voice,
called out, as well as I can recollect, words to this purpose:--
"Warren Hastings, esquire, come forth! Answer to the charges
brought against you; save your bail, or forfeit your
recognizance."
Indeed I trembled at these words, and hardly Could
keep my place when I found Mr. Hastings was being brought to the
bar. He came forth from some place immediately under the great
chamberlain's box, and was preceded by Sir Francis Molyneux,
gentleman-usher of the black rod; and at each side of him walked
his bail, Messrs. Sulivan and Sumner.
The moment he came in sight, which was not for full ten minutes
after his awful summons, he made a low bow to the chancellor and
court facing him. I saw not his face, as he was directly under
me. He moved on slowly, and, I think, supported between his two
bails, to the opening of his own box; there, lower still, he
bowed again; and then, advancing to the bar, he leant his hands
upon it, and dropped on his knees; but a voice in the same minute
proclaiming he had leave to rise, he stood up almost
instantaneously, and a third time, profoundly bowed to the court.
What an awful moment this for such a man!--a man fallen from such
height of power to a situation so humiliating--from the almost
unlimited command of so large a part of the eastern World to be
cast at the feet of his enemies, of the great tribunal of his
country, and of the nation at large, assembled thus in a body to
try and to judge him! Could even his prosecutors at that moment
look on--and not shudder at least, if they did not blush?
The crier, I think it was, made, in a loud and hollow voice, a
public proclamation, "That Warren Hastings, esquire, late
governor-general of Bengal, was now on his trial for high
Page 99
crimes and misdemeanours, with which he was charged by the
commons of Great Britain; and that all persons whatsoever who had
aught to allege against him were now to stand forth."
A general silence followed, and the chancellor, Lord Thurlow, now
made his speech. I will give it you to the best of my power from
memory; the newspapers have printed it far less accurately than I
have retained it, though I am by no means exact or secure.
THE LORD CHANCELLOR'S SPEECH.
Warren Hastings, you are now brought into this court to answer to
the charge, brought against you by the knights, esquires,
burgesses, and commons of Great Britain--charges now standing
only as allegations, by them to be legally proved, or by you to
be disproved. Bring forth your answer and defence, with that
seriousness, respect, and truth, due to accusers so respectable.
Time has been allowed you for preparation, proportioned to the
intricacies in which the transactions are involved, and to the
remote distances whence your documents may have been searched and
required. You will be allowed bail, for the better forwarding
your defence, and-whatever you can require will still be yours,
of time, witnesses, and all things else you may hold necessary.
This is not granted you as any indulgence: it is entirely your
due: it is the privilege which every British subject has a right
to claim, and which is due to every one who is brought before
this high tribunal."
This speech, uttered in a calm, equal, solemn manner, and in a
voice mellow and penetrating, with eyes keen and black, yet
softened into some degree of tenderness while fastened full upon
the prisoner--this speech, its occasion, its portent, and its
object, had an effect upon every hearer of producing the most
respectful attention, and, out of the committee box at least, the
strongest emotions in the cause of Mr. Hastings. Again Mr.
Hastings made the lowest reverence to the court, and, leaning
over the bar answered, with much agitation, through evident
efforts to suppress it, "My lords --Impressed--deeply impressed--
I come before your lordships, equally confident in my own
integrity, and in the justice of the court before which I am to
clear it."
"Impressed" and "deeply impressed," too, was my mind, by this
short yet comprehensive speech, and all my best wishes
Page 100
for his clearance and redress rose warmer than ever in my heart.
THE READING OF THE CHARGES COMMENCED.
A general silence again ensued, and then one of the lawyers
opened the cause. He began by reading from an immense roll of
parchment the general charges against Mr. Hastings, but he read
in so monotonous a chant that nothing more could I hear or
understand than now and then the name of Warren Hastings.
During this reading, to which I vainly lent all my attention, Mr.
Hastings, finding it, I presume, equally impossible to hear a
word, began to cast his eyes around the house, and having taken a
survey of all in front and at the sides, he turned about and
looked up; pale looked his face--pale, ill, and altered. I was
much affected by the sight of that dreadful harass which
was written on his countenance. Had I looked at him without
restraint, it could not have been without tears. I felt shocked,
too, shocked and ashamed, to be seen by him in that place. I had
wished to be present from an earnest interest in the business,
joined to a firm confidence in his powers of defence; but his
eyes were not those I wished to meet in Westminster Hall. I
called upon Miss Gomme and Charles to assist me in looking
another way, and in conversing with me as I turned aside, and I
kept as much aloof as possible till he had taken his survey, and
placed himself again in front.
>From this time, however, he frequently looked round, and I was
soon without a doubt that he must see me. . . . In a few minutes
more, while this reading was still continued, I perceived Sir
Joshua Reynolds in the midst of the committee. He, at the same
moment, saw me also, and not only bowed, but smiled and nodded
with his usual good-humour and
intimacy, making at the same time a sign to his ear, by which I
understood he had no trumpet; whether he had forgotten or lost it
I know not.
I would rather have answered all this dumb show anywhere else, as
my last ambition was that of being noticed from such a box. I
again entreated aid in turning away; but Miss Gomme, who is a
friend of Sir Gilbert Elliot, one of the managers and an
ill-wisher, for his sake, to the opposite cause, would only
laugh, and ask why I should not be owned by them.
I did not, however, like it, but had no choice from my near
Page 101
situation; and in a few seconds I had again a bow, and a
profound one, and again very ridiculously I was obliged to
inquire of Lady Claremont who my own acquaintance might be. Mr.
Richard Burke, senior, she answered. He is a brother of the
great--great in defiance of all drawbacks--Edmund Burke.
Another lawyer now arose, and read so exactly in the same manner,
that it was utterly impossible to discover even whether it was a
charge or an answer. Such reading as this, you may well suppose,
set every body pretty much at their ease and but for the interest
I took in looking from time to time at Mr. Hastings, and watching
his countenance, I might as well have been away. He seemed
composed after the first half-hour, and calm; but he looked with
a species of indignant contempt towards his accusers, that could
not, I think, have been worn had his defence been doubtful. Many
there are who fear for him; for me, I own myself wholly confident
in his acquittal.
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.
Soon after, a voice just by my side, from the green benches,
said, "Will Miss Burney allow me to renew my acquaintance with
her?" I turned about and saw Mr. Crutchley.
All Streatham rose to my mind at sight of him. I have never
beheld him since the Streatham society was abolished. We entered
instantly upon the subject of that family, a Subject ever to me
the most Interesting. He also had never seen poor Mrs. Thrale
since her return to England; but he joined with me very earnestly
in agreeing that, since so unhappy a step
was now past recall, it became the duty, however painful a one,
of the daughters, to support, not cast off and contemn, one who
was now as much their mother as when she still bore their own
name.
"But how," cried he, "do you stand the fiery trial of this
Streatham book that is coming upon us?"
I acknowledged myself very uneasy about it, and he assured me all
who had ever been at Streatham were in fright and consternation.
We talked all these matters over more at length, till I was
called away by an "How d'ye do, Miss Burney?" from the committee
box! And then I saw young Mr. Burke, who had jumped up on the
nearest form to speak to me.
Pleasant enough! I checked my vexation as well as I was able,
since the least shyness on my part to those with whom
Page 102
formerly I had been social must instantly have been attributed to
Court influence; and therefore, since I could not avoid the
notice, I did what I could to talk with him as heretofore. He is
besides so amiable a young man that I could not be sorry to see
him again, though I regretted it should be Just In that place,
and at this time.
While we talked together, Mr. Crutchley went back to his more
distant seat, and the moment I was able to withdraw from young
Mr. Burke, Charles, who sat behind me, leant down and told me a
gentleman had just desired to be presented to me.
"Who?" quoth I.
" Mr. Windham," he answered.
I really thought he was laughing, and answered accordingly, but
he assured me he was in earnest, and that Mr. Windham had begged
him to make the proposition. What could I do? There was no
refusing; yet a planned meeting with another of the committee,
and one deep in the prosecution, and from whom one of the hardest
charges has come(263)--could anything be less pleasant as I was
then situated? The great chamberlain's box is the only part of
the Hall that has any communication with either the committee box
or the House of Commons, and it is also the very nearest to the
prisoner.
WILLIAM WINDHAM) ESQ., M.P.
Mr. Windham I had seen twice before-both times at Miss
Monckton's; and anywhere else I should have been much gratified
by his desire of a third meeting, as he is one of the most
agreeable, spirited, well-bred, and brilliant conversers I have
ever spoken with. He is a neighbour, too, now, of
Page 103
Charlotte's. He is member for Norwich, and a man of family and
fortune, with a very pleasing though not handsome face, a very
elegant figure, and an air of fashion and vivacity.
The conversations I had had with him at Miss Monckton's had been,
wholly- by his own means, extremely spirited and entertaining. I
was sorry to see him make one of a set that appeared so
inveterate against a man I believe so injuriously treated; and my
concern was founded upon the good thoughts I had conceived of
him, not merely from his social talents, which are yet very
uncommon, but from a reason clearer to my remembrance. He loved
Dr. Johnson,-and Dr. Johnson returned his affection. Their
political principles and connexions were opposite, but Mr.
Windham respected his venerable friend too highly to discuss any
points that could offend him ; and showed for him so true a
regard, that, during all his late illnesses, for the latter part
of his life, his carriage and himself were alike at his service,
to air, visit, or go out, whenever he was disposed to accept
them.
Nor was this all; one tender proof he gave of warm and generous
regard, that I can never forget, and that rose instantly to my
mind when I heard his name, and gave him a welcome in my eyes
when they met his face : it is this: Dr. Johnson, in his last
visit to Lichfield, was taken ill, and waited to recover strength
for travelling back to town in his usual vehicle, a stage-coach--
as soon as this reached the ears of Mr. Windham, he set off for
Lichfield in his own carriage, to offer to bring hint back to
town in it, and at his own time.
For a young man of fashion, such a trait towards an old, however
dignified philosopher, must surely be a mark indisputable of an
elevated mind and character; and still the more strongly it
marked a noble way of thinking, as it was done in favour of a
person in open opposition to his own party, and declared
prejudices.
Charles soon told me he was it my elbow. He had taken the place
Mr. Crutchley had just left. The abord was, oil my , part, very
awkward, from the distress I felt lest Mr. Hastings should look
up, and from a conviction that I must not name
Page 104
that gentleman, of whom alone I could then think, to a person in
a committee against him.
He, however, was easy, having no embarrassing thoughts, since the
conference was of his own seeking. 'Twas so long since I had
seen him, that I almost wonder he remembered me. After the first
compliments he looked around him, and exclaimed "What an assembly
is this! How striking a spectacle! I had not seen half its
splendour down there. You have it here to great advantage; you
lose some of the lords, but you gain all the ladies. You have a
very good place here,"
"Yes and I may safely say I make a very impartial use of it for
since here I have sat, I have never discovered to which side I
have been listening!"
He laughed, but told me they were then running through the
charges.
"And is it essential," cried I, "that they should so run them
through that nobody can understand them? Is that a form of law?"
He agreed to the absurdity - and then, looking still at the
spectacle, which indeed is the most splendid I ever saw, arrested
his eyes upon the chancellor.
"He looks very well from hence," cried he; "and how well he
acquits himself on these solemn occasions! With what dignity,
what loftiness, what high propriety, he comports himself!"
This praise to the chancellor, who is a known friend to Mr.
Hastings, though I believe he would be the last to favour him
unjustly now he is on trial, was a pleasant sound to my ear, and
confirmed my original idea of the liberal disposition of my new
associate. i joined heartily in the commendation, and warmly
praised his speech.
"Even a degree of pompousness," cried I, "in such a court as
this, seems a propriety."
"Yes," said he "but his speech had one word that might as well
have been let alone: 'mere allegations' he called the charges;
the word 'mere,' at least, might have been spared, especially as
it is already strongly suspected on which side he leans!"
I protested, and with truth, I had not heard the word in his
speech; but he still affirmed it.
"Surely," I said, "he was as fair and impartial as possible: he
called the accusers 'so respectable!'"
"Yes, but 'mere--mere' was no word for this occasion and it could
not be unguarded, for he would never come to
Page 105
speak in such a court as this, without some little thinking
beforehand. However, he is a fine fellow,--a very fine fellow!
and though, in his private life, guilty of so many inaccuracies,
in his public capacity I really hold him to be unexceptionable."
This fairness, from an oppositionist professed, brought me at
once to easy terms with him. I begged him to inform me for what
reason, at the end of the chancellor's speech, there had been a
cry of "Hear! hear! hear him!" which had led me to expect another
speech, when I found no other seemed intended. He laughed very
much, and confessed that, as a parliament man, he was so used to
that absurdity, that he had ceased to regard it; for that it was
merely a mark of approbation to a speech already spoken; "And, in
fact, they only," cried he, "say 'Hear!' when there is nothing
more to be heard!" Then, still looking at the scene before him,
he suddenly laughed, and said, "I must not, to Miss Burney, make
this remark, but-it is observable that in the king's box sit the
Hawkesbury family, while, next to the Speaker, who is here as a
sort of representative of the king, sits Major Scott!"
I knew his inference, of Court influence in favour of Mr.
Hastings, but I thought it best to let it pass quietly. I knew,
else, I should only be supposed under the same influence myself.
Looking still on, he next noticed the two archbishops. "And see,"
cried he, "the Archbishop of York, Markham,--see how he affects
to read the articles of impeachment, as if he was still open to
either side! My good lord archbishop! your grace might, with
perfect safety, spare your eyes, for your mind has been made up
upon this subject before ever it was investigated. He holds
Hastings to be the greatest man in the world--for Hastings
promoted the interest of his son in the East Indies!"
WINDHAM INVEIGHS AGAINST WARREN HASTINGS.
Somewhat sarcastic, this - but I had as little time as power for
answering, since now, and suddenly, his eye dropped down upon
poor Mr. Hastings; the expression of his face instantly lost the
gaiety and ease with which it had addressed me; he stopped short
in his remarks; he fixed his eyes steadfastly on this new, and
but too interesting object, and after viewing him
106
some time in a sort of earnest silence, he suddenly exclaimed as
if speaking to himself, and from an impulse irresistible
"What a sight is that! to see that man, that small portion of
human clay, that poor feeble machine of earth, enclosed now in
that little space, brought to that bar, a prisoner in a spot six
foot square--and to reflect on his late power! Nations at his
command! Princes prostrate at his feet!--What a change! how Must
he feel it!--"
He stopped, and I said not a word. I was glad to see him thus
impressed; I hoped it might soften his enmity. I found, by his
manner, that he had never, from the committee box, looked at him.
He broke forth again, after a pause of Some length,--"Wonderful
indeed! almost past credibility, is such a reverse! He that, so
lately, had the Eastern world nearly at his beck; he, under whose
tyrant power princes and potentates sunk and trembled; he, whose
authority was without the reach of responsibility!--"
Again he stopped, seeming struck, almost beyond the power of
speech, with meditative commiseration ; but then, suddenly
rousing himself, as if recollecting his "almost blunted purpose,"
he passionately exclaimed, "Oh could those--the thousands, the
millions, who have groaned and languished under the iron rod of
his oppressions- -could they but--whatever region they inhabit--
be permitted one dawn of light to look into this Hall, and see
him there! There--where he now stands--It might prove, perhaps,
some recompense for their sufferings!"
I can hardly tell you, my dearest Susan, how shocked I felt at
these words! words so hard, and following sensations so much more
pitying and philosophic! I cannot believe Mr. Hastings guilty; I
feel in myself a strong internal evidence of his innocence, drawn
from all I have seen of him; I can only regard the prosecution as
a party affair; but yet, since his adversaries now openly stake
their names, fame, and character against him, I did not think it
decent to intrude such an opinion. I could only be sorry, and
silent.
Still he looked at him, earnest in rumination, and as if unable
to turn away his eyes; and presently he again exclaimed, "How
wonderful an instance of the instability of mortal power is
presented ]In that object! From possessions so extensive, from a
despotism so uncontrolled. to see him, now there, in that small
circumference! In the history Of human nature how memorable will
be the records of this day!
Page 107
a day that brings to the great tribunal of the nation a man whose
power, so short a time since, was of equal magnitude with his
crimes!"
Good heaven! thought I, and do you really believe all this? Can
Mr. Hastings appear to you such a monster? and are you not merely
swayed by party? I could not hear him without shuddering, nor see
him thus in earnest without alarm. I thought myself no longer
bound to silence, since I saw, by the continuance as well as by
the freedom of his exclamations, he conceived me of the same
sentiments with himself; and therefore I hardily resolved to make
known to him that mistake, which, indeed, was a liberty that
seemed no longer impertinent, but a mere act of justice and
honesty.
His very expressive pause, his eyes still steadfastly fixed on
Mr. Hastings, gave me ample opportunity for speaking - though I
had some little difficulty how to get out what I wished to say.
However, in the midst of his reverie, I broke forth, but not
without great hesitation, and, very humbly, I said, "Could you
pardon me, Mr. Windham, If I should forget, for a moment, that
you are a committee man, and speak to you frankly?"
He looked surprised, but laughed at the question, and very
eagerly called out "Oh yes, yes, pray speak out, I beg it!"
"Well, then, may I venture to say to you that I believe it
utterly impossible for any one, not particularly engaged on the
contrary side, ever to enter a court of justice, and not
instantly, and involuntarily, wish well to the prisoner!"
His surprise subsided by this general speech, which I had not
courage to put in a more pointed way, and he very readily
answered, "'Tis natural, certainly, and what must almost
unavoidably be the first impulse; yet, where justice--"
I stopped him; I saw I was not comprehended, and thought else he
might say something to stop me.
"May I," I said, " go yet a little farther ?
"Yes," cried he, with a very civil smile, "and I feel an assent
beforehand."
" Supposing then, that even you, if that may be supposed, could
be divested of all knowledge of the particulars of this affair,
and in the same state of general Ignorance that I confess myself
to be, and could then, like me, have seen Mr. Hastings make his
entrance into this court, and looked at him when he was brought
to that bar; not even you, Mr. Windham, could then have reflected
on such a vicissitude for him, on all he has
Page 108
left and all he has lost, and not have given him, like me, all
your best wishes the moment you beheld him."
The promised assent came not, though he was too civil to
contradict me ; but still I saw he Understood me only in a
general sense. I feared going farther : a weak advocate is apt
to be a mischievous one and, as I knew nothing, it was not to a
professed enemy I could talk of what I only believed.
Recovering, now, from the strong emotion with which the sight of
Mr. Hastings had filled him, he looked again around the court,
and pointed out several of the principal characters present, with
arch and striking remarks upon each of them, all uttered with
high spirit, but none with ill-nature.
("Pitt," cried he, "is not here!--a noble stroke that for the
annals of his administration! A trial is brought on by the whole
House of Commons In a body, and he is absent at the very opening!
However," added he, with a very meaning laugh, "I'm glad of it,
for 'tis to his eternal disgrace!"
Mercy! thought I, what a friend to kindness Is party!
"Do you see Scott?" cried he.
"No, I never saw him; pray show him to me,"
"There he is, in green; just now by the Speaker, now moved by the
committee; in two minutes more he will be somewhere else,
skipping backwards and forwards; what a grasshopper it is!"
"I cannot look at him," cried I, "without recollecting a very
extraordinary letter from him, that I read last summer in the
newspaper, where he answers some attack that he says has been
made upon him, because the term is used of 'a very insignificant
fellow,' and he printed two or three letters in 'The Public
Advertiser,' in following days, to prove, with great care and
pains, that he knew it was all meant as an abuse of himself, from
those words!"
"And what," cried he, laughing, "do you say to that notion now
you see him?"
"That no one," cried I, examining him with my glass, "can
possibly dispute his claim!"
What pity that Mr. Hastings should have trusted his cause to so
frivolous an agent! I believe, and indeed it is the general
belief, both of foes and friends, that to his officious and
injudicious zeal the present prosecution is wholly owing.
Next, Mr. Windham pointed out Mr. Francis to me. 'TIS a singular
circumstance, that the friend who most loves and the enemy Who
most hates Mr. Hastings should bear the same
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name!(264) Mr. Windham, with all the bias of party, gave me then
the highest character of this Mr. Francis, whom he called one of
the most ill-used of men. Want of documents how to answer forced
me to be silent, oppositely as I thought. But it was a very
unpleasant situation to me, as I saw that Mr. Windham still
conceived me to have no other interest than a common, and
probably to his mind, a weak compassion for the prisoner--that
prisoner who, frequently looking around, saw me, I am certain,
and saw with whom I was engaged.
The subject of Mr. Francis again drew him back to Mr. Hastings,
but with more severity of mind. "A prouder heart," cried he, "an
ambition more profound, were never, I suppose, lodged in any
mortal mould than in that man! With what a port he entered! did
you observe him? his air! I saw not his face, but his air his
port!"
"Surely there," cried I, "he could not be to blame! He comes upon
his defence; ought he to look as if he gave himself up?"
"Why no; 'tis true he must look what vindication to himself he
can; we must not blame him there."
Encouraged by this little concession, I resolved to venture
farther, and once more said "May I again, Mr. Windham, forget
that you are a committee-man, and say something not fit for a
committee man to hear?"
"O yes!" cried he, laughing very much, and looking extremely
curious.
"I must fairly, then, own myself utterly ignorant upon this
subject, and--and--may I go on?"
"I beg you will!"
"Well, then,--and originally prepossessed in favour of the
object!"
He quite started, and with a look of surprise from which all
pleasure was separated, exclaimed--"Indeed!"
"Yes!" cried I, "'tis really true, and really out, now!"
"For Mr. Hastings, prepossessed!" he repeated, in a tone that
seemed to say--do you not mean Mr. Burke?
Page 110
"Yes," I said, "for Mr. Hastings! But I should not have presumed
to own it just at this time,--so little as I am able to do honour
to my prepossession by any materials to defend it,--but that you
have given me courage, by appearing so free from all malignity in
the business. Tis, therefore, Your own fault!"
"But can you speak seriously," cried he, " "when You say you know
nothing of this business?"
"Very seriously: I never entered into it at all; it was always
too intricate to tempt me."
"But, surely you must have read the charges?"
"No; they are so long, I had never the courage to begin."
The conscious look with which he heard this, brought--all too
late--to my remembrance, that one of them was drawn up, and
delivered in the House, by himself! I was really very sorry to
have been so unfortunate; but I had no way to call back the
words, so was quiet, perforce.
"Come then," cried he, emphatically, "to hear Burke! come and
listen to him, and you will be mistress of the whole. Hear
Burke, and read the charges of the Begums, and then you will form
your judgment without difficulty."
I would rather (thought I) hear him upon any other subject: but I
made no answer; I only said, "Certainly, I can gain nothing by
what is going forward to-day. I meant to come to the opening
now, but it seems rather like the shutting up!"
He was not to be put off. "You will come, however, to hear
Burke? To hear truth, reason, justice, eloquence! You will then
see, in other colours, 'That man!' There is more cruelty, more
oppression, more tyranny, in that little machine, with an
arrogance, a self-confidence, unexampled, unheard of!"
MISS BURNEY BATTLES FOR THE ACCUSED.
"Indeed, sir!" cried I; "that does not appear, to those who know
him and--I--know him a little."
"Do you?" cried he earnestly; "personally, do you know him?"
"Yes; and from that knowledge arose this prepossession I have
confessed."
"Indeed, what you have seen of him have you then so much
approved?"
"Yes, very much! I must own the truth!"
"But you have not seen much of him?"
Page 111
"No, not lately. My first knowledge of him was almost
immediately upon his coming from India; I had heard nothing of
all these accusations; I had never been in the way of hearing
them, and knew not even that there were any to be heard. I saw
him, therefore, quite without prejudice, for or against him ; and
indeed, I must own, he soon gave me a strong interest in his
favour."
The surprise with which he heard me must have silenced me on the
subject, had it not been accompanied with an attention so earnest
as to encourage me still to proceed. It is evident to me that
this committee live so much shut Lip with one another, that they
conclude all the world of the same opinions with themselves, and
universally imagine that the tyrant they think themselves
pursuing is a monster in every part of his life, and held in
contempt and abhorrence by all mankind. Could I then be sorry,
seeing this, to contribute my small mite towards clearing, at
least, so very wide a mistake? On the contrary, when I saw he
listened, I was most eager to give him all I could to hear,
"I found him," I continued, "so mild, so gentle, so extremely
pleasing in his manners--"
"Gentle!" cried he, with quickness.
"Yes, Indeed; gentle even to humility--"
"Humility? Mr. Hastings and humility!"
"Indeed it is true; he is perfectly diffident in the whole of his
manner, when engaged in conversation; and so much struck was I,
at that very time, by seeing him so simple, so unassuming, when
just returned from a government that had accustomed him to a
power superior to our monarchs here, that it produced an effect
upon my mind in his favour which nothing can erase!"
"Yes, Yes!" cried he, with great energy, "you will give it up!
you must lose it, must give it up! it will be plucked away,
rooted wholly out of your mind ."
"Indeed, sir," cried I, steadily, "I believe not!"
"You believe not?" repeated he, with added animation; "then there
will be the more glory in making you a convert!"
If "conversion" is the word, thought I, I would rather make than
be made.
"But --Mr. Windham," cried I, "all my amazement now is at your
condescension in speaking to me upon this business at all, when I
have confessed to you my total ignorance of the subject, and my
original prepossession in favour of the object. Why
Page 112
do you not ask me when I was at the play ? and how I liked the
last opera?"
He laughed; and we talked on a little while in that strain, till
again, suddenly fixing his eyes on poor Mr. Hastings, his gaiety
once more vanished, and he gravely and severely examined his
countenance. "'Tis surely," cried he, "an unpleasant one. He
does not know, I suppose, 'tis reckoned like his own!"
"How should he," cried I, "look otherwise than unpleasant here?"
"True," cried he; "yet still, I think, his features, his look,
his whole expression, unfavourable to him. I never saw him but
once before; that was at the bar of the House of Commons and
there, as Burke admirably said, he looked, when first he glanced
an eye against him, like a hungry tiger, ready to howl for his
prey!"
"Well," cried I, "I am sure he does not look fierce now!
Contemptuous, a little, I think he does look!"
I was sorry I used this word; yet its truth forced it to escape
me. He did not like it; he repeated it; he could not but be sure
the contempt could only be levelled at his prosecutors. I feared
discussion, and flew off as fast as I could, to softer ground.
"It was not," cried I, "with that countenance he gave me my
prepossession! Very differently, indeed, he looked then!"
"And can he ever look pleasant? can that face ever obtain an
expression that is pleasing?"
"Yes, indeed and in truth, very pleasant! It was in the country
I first saw him, and without any restraint on his part; I saw
him, therefore, perfectly natural and easy. And no one, let me
say, could so have seen him without being pleased with him--his
quietness and serenity, joined to his intelligence and
information--"
"His information?--in what way?"
"In such a way as suited his hearer: not upon committee
business--of all that I knew nothing. The only conversation in
which I could mix was upon India, considered simply as, a country
in which he had travelled; and his communications upon the
people, the customs, habits, cities, and whatever I could name,
were so instructive as well as entertaining, that I think I never
recollect gaining more intelligence, or more pleasantly conveyed,
from any conversation in which I ever have been engaged."
Page 113
To this he listened with an attention that, but for the secret
zeal which warmed me must have silenced and shamed me. I am
satisfied this committee have concluded Mr. Hastings a mere man
of blood, with slaughter and avarice for his sole ideas! The
surprise with which he heard this just testimony to his social
abilities was only silent from good-breeding, but his eyes
expressed what his tongue withheld; something that satisfied me
he concluded
I had undesignedly been duped by him. I answered this silence by
saying "There was no object for hypocrisy, for it was quite in
retirement I met with him : it was not lately ; it is near two
years since I have seen him; he had therefore no point to gain
with me, nor was there any public character, nor any person
whatever, that Could induce him to act a part; yet was he all I
have said-informing, Communicative, instructive, and at the same
time, gentle and highly pleasing."
"Well," said he, very civilly, "I begin the less to wonder, now,
that You have adhered to his side; but--"
"To see him, then," cried I, stopping his 'but,'--"to see him
brought to that bar! and kneeling at it!--indeed, Mr. Windham, I
must own to you, I could hardly keep my seat--hardly forbear
rising and running out of the Hall."
"Why, there," cried he, "I agree with you! 'Tis certainly a
humiliation not to be wished or defended: it is, indeed, a mere
ceremony, a mere formality; but it is a mortifying one, and so
obsolete, so unlike the practices of the times, so repugnant from
a gentleman to a gentleman, that I myself
looked another way: it hurt me, and I wished it dispensed with."
"O, Mr. Windham," cried I, surprised and pleased, "and can you be
so liberal?"
"Yes," cried he, laughing, "but 'tis only to take you in!"
Afterwards he asked what his coat was, whether blue Or purple;
and said, "is it not customary for a prisoner to come black?"
"Whether or not," quoth I, "I am heartily glad he has not done
it; why should he seem so dismal, so shut out from hope?"
"Why, I believe he is in the right. I think he has judged that
not ill."
"O, don't be so candid," cried I, "I beg you not."
"Yes, yes, I must; and you know the reason," cried he, gaily; but
presently exclaimed, "one unpleasant thing belong-
Page 114
ing to being a manager is that I must now go and show myself in
the committee."
And then he very civilly bowed, and went down to his box, leaving
me much persuaded that I had never yet been engaged in a
conversation so curious, from its circumstances, in my life. The
warm well-wisher myself of the prisoner, though formerly the
warmest admirer of his accuser, engaged, even at his trial and in
his presence, in so open a discussion with one of his principal
prosecutors; and the queen herself in full view, unavoidably
beholding me in close and eager conference with an avowed member
of the opposition!
These circumstances made me at first enter into discourse with
Mr. Windham with the utmost reluctance ; but though I wished to
shun him, I could not, when once attacked, decline to converse
with him. It would but injure the cause of Mr. Hastings to seem
to fear hearing the voice of his accusers; and it could but be
attributed to undue court-influence had I avoided any intercourse
with an acquaintance so long ago established as a member of the
opposition.
A WEARIED M.P.-MR. CRUTCHLEY REAPPEARS.
In the midst of the opening of a trial such as this, so important
to the country as well as to the individual who is tried, what
will you say to a man--a member of the House of Commons who kept
exclaiming almost perpetually, just at my side, "What a bore!-
-when will it be over?--Must one come any more?--I had a great
mind not to have come at all.--Who's that?--Lady Hawkesbury and
the Copes?--Yes.--A pretty girl, Kitty.--Well, when will they
have done?--I wish they'd call the question--I should vote it a
bore at once!
just such exclamations as these were repeated, without
intermission, till the gentleman departed: and who should it be
that spoke with so much legislative wisdom but Mr. W---!
In about two or three hours--this reading still lasting--Mr.
Crutchley came to me again. He, too, was so wearied, that he was
departing; but he stayed some time to talk over our constant
topic--my poor Mrs. Thrale. How little does he suspect the
interest I unceasingly take in her--the avidity with which I
seize every opportunity to gather the smallest intelligence
concerning her!
One little trait of Mr. Crutchley, so characteristic of that
queerness which distinguishes him, I must mention. He said
Page 115
he questioned whether he should comme any more: I told him I had
imagined the attendance of every member to be indispensable.
"No," cried he, "ten to one if another day they are able to make
a house!"
"The Lords, however, I suppose, must come?"
"Not unless they like it."
" But I hear if they do not attend they have no tickets."
"Why, then, Miss Primrose and Miss Cowslip must stay away too!"
I had the pleasure to find him entirely for Mr. Hastings, and to
hear he had constantly voted on his side through every stage of
the business. He is a very independent man, and a man of real
good character, and, with all his oddity, of real understanding.
We compared notes very amicably upon this subject, and both
agreed that those who looked for every flaw in the conduct of a
man in so high and hazardous a station, ought first to have
weighed his merits and his difficulties.
MR. WINDHAM DISCUSSES THE IMPEACHMENT.
A far more interesting conference, however, was now awaiting me.
Towards the close of the day Mr. Windham very unexpectedly came
again from the committee-box, and seated himself by my side. I
was glad to see by this second visit that my frankness had not
offended him. He began, too, in so open and social a manner,
that I was satisfied he forgave it.
"I have been," cried he, "very busy since I left you.--writing--
reading--making documents."
I saw he was much agitated ; the gaiety which seems natural to
him was flown, and had left in its place the most evident and
unquiet emotion. I looked a little surprised, and rallying
himself, in a few moments he inquired if I wished for any
refreshment, and proposed fetching me some. But, well as I liked
him for a conspirator, I could not break bread with him!
I thought now all was over of communication between us, but I was
mistaken. He spoke for a minute or two upon the crowd--early
hour of coming--hasty breakfasting and such general nothings; and
then, as if involuntarily, he returned to the sole subject on
his mind.
"Our plan," cried he, "is all changing: we have all been busy--we
are coming into a new method. I have been making preparations--I
did not intend speaking for a considerable time--not till after
the circuit, but now, I may be called upon, I know not how soon."
Page 116
Then he stopped--ruminating--and I let him ruminate without
interruption for some minutes, when he broke forth with these
reflections: "How strange, how infatuated a frailty has man with
respect to the future! Be our views, our designs, our
anticipations what they may, we are never prepared for it!--It
always takes us by surprise--always comes before we look for it!"
He stopped; but I waited his explanation without speaking, and,
after pausing thoughtfully for some time, he went on:
"This day--for which we have all been waiting so anxiously, so
earnestly--the day for which we have fought, for which we have
struggled--a day, indeed, of national glory, in bringing to this
great tribunal a delinquent from so high an office--this day, so
much wished, has seemed to me, to the last moment, so distant,
that now--now that it Is actually arrived, it takes me as if I
had never thought of it before--it comes upon me all unexpected,
and finds me unready!"
Still I said nothing, for I did not fully comprehend him, till he
added, "I will not be so affected as to say to you that I have
made no preparation--that I have not thought a little upon what I
have to do; yet now that the moment is actually come--"
Again he broke off. but a generous sentiment was, bursting from
him, and would not be withheld.
"It has brought me," he resumed, "a feeling of which I am not yet
quite the master! What I have said hitherto, when I have spoken
in the house, has been urged and stimulated by the idea of
pleading for the injured and the absent, and that gave me spirit.
Nor do I tell you (with a half-conscious smile) that the ardour
of the prosecution went for nothing--a prosecution in favour of
oppressed millions! But now,. when I am to speak here, the
thought of that man, close to my side--culprit as he is--that man
on whom all the odium is to fall--gives me, I own, a sensation
that almost disqualifies me beforehand!" . . .
"That this day was ever brought about," continued he, "must ever
remain a noble memorial of courage and perseverance in the
Commons. Every possible obstacle has been thrown in our way--
every art of government has been at work to impede us--nothing
has been left untried to obstruct us--every check and clog of
power and influence."
"Not by him," cried I, looking at poor Mr. Hastings; "he has
raised no impediments--he has been wholly careless."
Page 117
"Come," cried he, with energy, "come and hear Burke!--Come but
and hear him!--'tis an eloquence irresistible!--a torrent that
sweeps all before it with the force of a whirlwind! It will Cure
You, indeed, of your prepossession, but it will give you truth
and right in its place. What discoveries has he not made!--what
gulfs has he not dived into! Come and hear him, and your conflict
will end!"
I could hardly stand this, and, to turn it off', asked him if Mr.
Hastings was to make his own defence?
"No," he answered, "he will only speak by counsel. But do not
regret that, for his own sake, as he is not used to public
speaking, and has some impediment in his speech besides. He
writes wonderfully--there he shines--and with a facility quite
astonishing. Have you ever happened to see any of his writings?"
"No: only one short account, which he calls 'Memoirs relative to
some India transactions,' and that struck me to be extremely
unequal--in some places strong and finely expressed, In others
obscure and scarce intelligible."
"That is just the case--that ambiguity runs through him in
everything. Burke has found an admirable word for it in the
Persian tongue, for which we have no translation, but it means an
intricacy involved so deep as to be nearly unfathomable--an
artificial entanglement."
I inquired how it was all to end--whether this reading was to
continue incessantly, or any speaking was to follow it?
"I have not inquired how that is," he answered, "but I believe
you will now soon be released."
"And will the chancellor speak to adjourn?"
"I cannot tell what the form may be, or how we are to be
dissolved. I think myself there is nothing more difficult than
how to tell people they may go about their business. I remember,
when I was in the militia, it was just what I thought the most
awkward, when I had done with my men. Use gives one the habit;
and I found, afterwards, there was a regular mode for it: but, at
first, I found it very embarrassing how to get rid of them."
Nothing excites frankness like frankness ; and I answered him in
return with a case of my own. "When first I came to my present
residence I was perpetually," I said, "upon the point of making a
blunder with the queen; for when, after she had honoured me with
any conversation, she used to say 'Now I won't keep you--now I
will detain you no longer,' .
Page 118
I was always ready to answer, 'Ma'am, I am in no haste,- ma'am, I
don't wish to go!' for I was not, at first, aware that it was
only her mode of dismissing people from her presence."
WINDHAM AFFECTS TO COMMISERATE HASTINGS.
Again he was going: but glancing his eyes once more down upon Mr.
Hastings, he almost sighed--he fetched, at least, a deep breath,
while he exclaimed with strong emotion, "What a place for a man
to stand in to hear what he has to hear!--'tis almost too much!"
It would not be easy to tell you how touching at such a time was
the smallest concession from an avowed opponent, and I could not
help exclaiming again, "O, Mr. Windham, you must not be so
liberal!"
"O!" cried he, smiling, and recovering himself, "'tis all the
deeper malice, only to draw you in!"
Still, however, he did not go : he kept gazing upon Mr. Hastings
till he seemed almost fascinated to the spot; and presently
after, growing more and more open in his discourse, he began to
talk to me of Sir Elijah Impey. I presume my dearest friends,
little as they hear of politics and state business, must yet know
that the House of Commons is threatening Sir Elijah with an
impeachment, to succeed that of Mr. Hastings, and all upon East
India transactions of the same date.(265)
When he had given me his sentiments upon this subject, which I
had heard with that sort of quietness that results from total
ignorance of the matter, joined to total ignorance of the person
concerned, he drew a short comparison, which, nearly, from him,
and at such a moment, drew the tears from my eyes--nearly do I
say?--Indeed more than that!
"Sir Elijah," cried he, "knows how to go to work, and by getting
the lawyers to side with him professionally, has set
Page 119
about his defence in the most artful manner. He is not only
wicked, but a very pitiful fellow. Let him but escape fine or
imprisonment, and he will pocket all indignity, and hold himself
happy in getting off: but Hastings (again looking steadfastly at
him)--Hastings has feeling--'tis a proud feeling, an ambitious
feeling--but feeling he has! Hastings--come to him what may--
fine, imprisonment, whatsoever is inflicted--all will be nothing.
The moment of his punishment--I think it, upon my honour!--was
the moment that brought him to that bar!"
When he said "I think it, upon my honour," he laid his hand on
his breast, as if he implied, "I acquit him henceforward."
Poor Mr. Hastings! One generous enemy he has at least, who
pursues him with public hate, but without personal malignity! yet
sure I feel he can deserve neither!
I did not spare to express my sense of this liberality from a
foe; for, indeed, the situation I was in, and the sight of Mr.
Hastings, made it very affecting to me. He was affected too,
himself; but presently, rising, he said with great quickness, "I
must shake all. this off; I must have done with it--dismiss it--
forget that he is there."
"O, no," cried I, earnestly, "do not forget it!"
"Yes, yes; I must."
" No, remember it rather," cried I; "I could almost (putting up
my hands as if praying) do thus and then, like poor Mr. Hastings
just now to the house, drop down on my knees to you, to call out
'Remember it.'"
"Yes, Yes," cried he, precipitately, "how else shall I go on? I
must forget that he is there, and that you are here." And then
he hurried down to his committee.
Was it not a most singular scene ?
I had afterwards to relate great part of this to the queen
herself. She saw me engaged in such close discourse, and with
such apparent interest on both sides, with Mr. Windham, that I
knew she must else form conjectures innumerable. So candid, so
liberal is the mind of the queen, that she not only heard me with
the most favourable attention towards Mr. Windham, but was
herself touched even to tears by the relation.
We stayed but a short time after this last conference ; for
nothing more was attempted than reading on the charges and
answers, in the same useless manner,
120
MISS BURNEY IS AGAIN PRESENT AT HASTINGS'S TRIAL..
The interest of this trial was so much upon my mind, that I have
not kept even a memorandum of what passed from the 13th of
February to the day when I went again to Westminster Hall; nor,
except renewing the Friday Oratorios with Mrs. Ord, do I
recollect one circumstance.
The second time that the queen, who saw my wishes, indulged me
with one of her tickets, and a permission of absence for the
trial, was to hear Mr. Burke, for whom my curiosity and my
interest stood the highest. One ticket, however, would not do; I
could not go alone, and the queen had bestowed all her other'
tickets before she discovered that this was a day in my
particular wishes. She entered into my perplexity with a
sweetness the most gracious, and when I knew not how to obviate
it, commanded me to write to the Duchess of Ancaster, and beg
permission to be put under the wing of her grace, or any of her
friends that were going to the Hall.
The duchess, unluckily, did not go, from indisposition, nor any
of her family; but she sent me a very obliging letter, and
another ticket from Sir Peter Burrell, to use for a companion.
I fixed upon James, who, I knew, wished to hear Mr. Burke for
once, and we went together very comfortably. When the managers,
who, as before, made the first procession, by entering their box
below us, were all arranged, one from among them, whom I knew
not, came up into the seats of the House of Commons by our side,
and said, "Captain Burney, I am very glad to see you."
"How do you do, sir ?" answered James; "here I am, come to see
the fine show."
Upon this the attacker turned short upon his heel, and abruptly
walked away, descending into the box, which he did not quit any
more. I inquired who he was; General Burgoyne, James told me.
"A manager!" cried I, "and one of the chargers! and you treat the
business of the Hall with such contempt to his face!"
James laughed heartily at his own uncourtly address, but I would
not repent, though he acknowledged he saw the offence his slight
and slighting speech had given.
Fearful lest he should proceed in the same style with my friend
Mr. Windham, I kept as aloof as possible, to avoid his notice,
entreating James at the same time to have the complaisance to be
silent upon this subject, should he discover me
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and approach. My own sentiments were as opposite to those of the
managers as his, and I had not scrupled to avow honestly my
dissent; but I well knew Mr. Windham might bear, and even
respect, from a female, the same openness of opposition that
might be highly offensive to him from a man. But I could obtain
no positive promise; he would only compromise with my request,
and agree not to speak unless applied to first. This, however,
contented me, as Mr. Windham was too far embarked in his
undertaking to solicit any opinion upon it from accidentally
meeting any common acquaintance.
>From young Burke and his uncle Richard I had bows from the
committee box. Mr. Windham either saw me not, or was too much
engaged in business to ascend.
BURKE'.S SPEECH IN SUPPORT OF THE CHARGES.
At length the peers' procession closed, the prisoner was brought
in, and Mr. Burke began his speech. It was the second day of his
harangue;(266) the first I had not been able to attend.
All I had heard of his eloquence, and all I had conceived of his
great abilities, was more than answered by his performance.
Nervous, clear, and striking was almost all that he uttered: the
main business, indeed, of his coming forth was frequently
neglected, and not seldom wholly lost , but his excursions were
so fanciful, so entertaining, and so ingenious, that no
miscellaneous hearer, like myself, could blame them. It is true
he was unequal, but his inequality produced an effect which, in
so long a speech, was perhaps preferable to greater consistency
since, though it lost attention in its falling off, it recovered
it with additional energy by some ascent unexpected and
wonderful. When he narrated, he was easy, flowing, and natural;
when he declaimed, energetic, warm, and brilliant. The
sentiments he interspersed were as nobly conceived as they were
highly coloured; his satire had a poignancy of wit that made it
as entertaining as it was penetrating; his allusions and
quotations, as far as they were English and within my reach, were
apt and ingenious - and the wild and sudden flights of his fancy,
bursting forth from his creative imagination in language fluent,
forcible, and varied, had a charm for my ear and my attention
wholly new and perfectly irresistible.
Were talents such as these exercised in the service of truth,
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unbiased by party and prejudice, how could we sufficiently
applaud their exalted possessor? But though frequently he made
me tremble by his strong and horrible representations,
his own violence recovered me, by stigmatizing his assertions
with personal ill-will and designing illiberality. Yet, at times
I confess, with all that I felt, wished, and thought concerning
Mr. Hastings, the whirlwind of his eloquence nearly drew me into
its vortex. I give no particulars of the speech, because they
will all be printed.
The observations and whispers of our keen as well as honest
James, during the whole, were highly characteristic and
entertaining.
"When will he come to the point?"-"These are mere words!"--"This
is all sheer detraction!"--"All this is nothing to the purpose!"
etc., etc.
"Well, ma'am, what say you to all this? how have you been
entertained?" cried a voice at my side; and I saw Mr. Crutchley,
who came round to speak to me.
"Entertained?" cried I, "indeed, not at all, it is quite too
serious and too horrible for entertainment: you ask after my
amusement as if I were at an opera or a comedy."
"A comedy?" repeated he, contemptuously, "no, a farce! It is not
high enough for a comedy. To hear a man rant such stuff. But
you should have been here the first day he spoke; this is milk
and honey to that. He said then, ' His heart was as black--as--
black!' and called him the captain-general of iniquity."
"Hush! hush!" cried I, for he spoke very loud; "that young man
you see down there, who is looking up, is his son."
"I know it," cried he, "and what do I care?"
How I knew Mr. Crutchley again, by his ready talent of defiance,
and disposition to contempt ! I was called aside from him by
James.
Mr. Crutchley retired, and Mr. Windham quitted his den, and
approached me, with a smile of good-humour and satisfaction that
made me instantly exclaim, "No exultation, Mr. Windham, no
questions; don't ask me what I think of the speech; I can bear no
triumph just now."
"No, indeed," cried he, very civilly, "I will not, I promise you,
and you may depend upon me."
He then spoke to James, regretting with much politeness that he
had seen so little of him when he was his neighbour in Norfolk,
and attributing it to the load of India business he had carried
into the country to study. I believe I have mentioned
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that Felbrig, Mr. Windham's seat, is within a few miles of my
brother-in-law, Mr. Francis's house at Aylsham.
After this, however, ere we knew where we were, we began
commenting upon the speech. It was impossible to refuse applause
to its able delivery and skilful eloquence; I, too, who so long
had been amongst the warmest personal admirers of Mr. Burke,
could least of all withhold from him the mite of common justice.
In talking over the speech, therefore, while I kept clear of its
purpose, I gave to its execution the amplest praise; and I
secretly grieved that I held back more blame than I had
commendation to bestow.
He had the good breeding to accept it just as I offered it,
without claiming more, or endeavouring to entangle me in my
approbation. He even checked himself, voluntarily, when he was
asking me some question of my conversion, by stopping short, and
saying, "But, no, it is not fair to press you; I must not do
that."
"You cannot," cried I, "press me too much, with respect to my
admiration of the ability of the speaker; I never more wished to
have written short-hand. I must content myself, however, that I
have at least a long memory."
He regretted very much that I had missed the first opening of the
speech, and gave me some account of it, adding, I might judge
what I had lost then by what I had heard now.
I frankly confessed that the two stories which Mr. Burke had
narrated had nearly overpowered me; they were pictures of cruelty
so terrible.
"But General Caillot," cried he, smiling, "the hero of one of
them, you would be tempted to like: he is as mild, as meek, as
gentle in his manners--"
I saw he was going to say "As your Mr. Hastings;" but I
interrupted him hastily, calling out, "Hush! hush! Mr. Windham;
would you wish me in future to take to nothing but lions?
FURTHER CONVERSATION WITH MR. WINDHAM.
We then went into various other particulars of the speech, till
Mr. Windham observed that Mr. Hastings was looking up, and, after
examining him some time, said he did not like his countenance. I
could have told him that he is generally reckoned extremely like
himself but after such an observation I would not venture, and
only said, "Indeed, he is cruelly altered: it
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was not so he looked when I conceived for him that prepossession
I have owned to you."
"Altered, is he?" cried he, biting his lips and looking somewhat
shocked.
"Yes, and who can wonder? Indeed, it is quite affecting to see
him sit there to hear such things."
"I did not see him," cried he, eagerly "I did not think it right
to look at him during the speech, nor from the committeebox; and,
therefore, I constantly kept my eyes another way."
I -had a great inclination to beg he would recommend a little of
the same decency to some of his colleagues, among whom are three
or four that even stand on the benches to examine him, during the
severest strictures, with opera-glasses. Looking at him again
now, myself, I could not see his pale face and haggard eye
without fresh concern, nor forbear to exclaim, "Indeed, Mr.
Windham, this is a dreadful business!" He seemed a little struck
with this exclamation; and, lest it should offend him, I hastened
to add, in apology, "You look so little like a bloody-minded
prosecutor, that I forget I ought not to say these things to
you."
"Oh!" cried he, laughing, "we are only prosecutors
there--(pointing to the committee-box), we are at play up here."
. . .
I wished much to know when he was himself to speak, and made
sundry inquiries relative to the progress of the several
harangues, but all without being comprehended, till at length I
cried, "In short, Mr. Windham, I want to know when everybody
speaks."
He started, and cried with precipitancy, "Do you mean me?"
"Yes."
"No, I hope not; I hope you have no wants about my miserable
speaking?"
I Only laughed, and we talked for some time of other things; and
then, suddenly, he burst forth with, "But you have really made me
a little uneasy by what you dropped just now."
"And what was that?"
"Something like an intention of hearing me."
"Oh, if that depended wholly on myself, I should certainly do
it."
"No, I hope not! I would not have you here on any account. If
you have formed any expectations, it will give me great concern."
"Pray don't be uneasy about that; for whatever expectations
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I may have formed, I had much rather have them disappointed."
" Ho! ho!--you come, then," cried he, pointedly, "to hear me, by
way of soft ground to rest upon, after the hard course you will
have been run with these higher-spirited speakers?" . . . He
desired me not to fail to come and hear Fox. My chances, I told
him, were very uncertain, and Friday was the earliest of them.
"He speaks on Thursday," cried he, "and indeed you should hear
him."
"Thursday is my worst chance of all," I answered, "for it is the
Court-day."
"And is there no dispensation ? " cried he ; and then,
recollecting himself, and looking very archly at Mr. Fox, who was
just below us, he added, "No,--true--not for him!"
"Not for any body!" cried I; "on a Court-day my attendance is as
necessary, and I am dressed out as fine, and almost as stiff, as
those heralds are here." I then told him what were my Windsor
days, and begged he would not seize one of them to speak himself.
"By no means," cried he, quite seriously, "would I have you
here!--stay away, and only let me hope for your good wishes."
" I shall be quite sincere," cried I, laughing, "and own to you
that stay away I shall not, if I can possibly come; but as to my
good wishes, I have not, in this case, one to give you!"
He heard this with a start that was almost a jump. "What!" he
exclaimed, "would you lay me under your judgment without your
mercy?--Why this is heavier than any penal statute."
He spoke this with an energy that made Mr. Fox look up, to see to
whom he addressed his speech: but before I could answer it, poor
James, tired of keeping his promised circumspection, advanced his
head to join the conversation; and so much was I alarmed lest he
should burst forth into some unguarded expression of his vehement
hatred to the cause, which could not but have irritated its
prosecutors, that the moment I perceived his motion and
intention, I abruptly took my leave of Mr. Windham, and surprised
poor James into a necessity of following me.
Indeed I was now most eager to depart, from a circumstance that
made me feel infinitely awkward. Mr. Burke himself was just come
forward, to speak to a lady a little below me; Mr. Windham had
instantly turned towards me, with a look of congratulation that
seemed rejoicing for me, that the orator
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of the day, and of the cause, was approaching,; but I retreated
involuntarily back, and shirked meeting his eyes. He perceived
in an instant the mistake he was making, and went on with his
discourse as if Mr. Burke was out of the Hall. In a minute,
however, Mr. Burke himself saw me, and he bowed with the most
marked civility of manner; my courtesy was the most ungrateful,
distant, and cold ; I could not do otherwise ; so hurt I felt to
see him the head of such a cause, so impossible I found it to
titter one word of admiration for a performance whose nobleness
was so disgraced by its tenour, and so conscious was I the whole
time that at such a moment to say nothing must seem almost an
affront, that I hardly knew which way to look, or what to do with
myself.(267)
'
In coming downstairs I met Lord Walsingham and Sir Lucas Pepys.
"Well, Miss Burney," cried the first, "what say you to a
governor-general of India now?"
"Only this," cried I, "that I do not dwell much upon any question
till I have heard its answer!"
Sir Lucas then attacked me too. All the world against poor Mr.
Hastings, though without yet knowing what his materials may be
for clearing away these aspersions!
Miss FUZILIER LIKELY TO PECONIE MRS, FAIRLY,
February.-Her majesty at this time was a little indisposed, and
we missed going to Windsor for a fortnight, during which I
received visits of inquiry from divers of her ladies--Mrs.
Brudenell, bed-chamber woman; Miss Brudenell, her daughter, and a
maid of honour elect, would but one of that class please to marry
or die; Miss Tryon and Miss Beauclerk, maids of honour, neither
of them in a firm way to oblige Miss Brudenell, being nothing
approaching to death, though far advanced from marriage; and
various others.
Miss Brudenell's only present hope is said to be in Miss
Fuzilier,(268) who is reported, with what foundation I know not,
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to be likely to become Mrs. Fairly. She is pretty, learned, and
accomplished ; yet, from the very little I have seen of her, I
should not think she had heart enough to satisfy Mr. Fairly, in
whose character the leading trait is the most acute sensibility,
However, I have heard he has disclaimed all such intention, with
high indignation at the report, as equally injurious to the
delicacy both of Miss Fuzilier and himself, so recently after his
loss.
THE HASTINGS TRIAL AGAIN: MR. FOX IN A RAGE.
And now for my third Westminster Hall, which, by the queen's own
indulgent order, was with dear Charlott and Sarah. It was also
to hear Mr. Fox, and I was very glad to let Mr. Windham see a
"dispensation" was attainable, though the cause was accidental,
since the queen's cold prevented the Drawing-room.(269)
We went early, yet did not get very good places. The managers at
this time were all in great wrath at a decision made the night
before by the Lords, upon a dispute between them and the counsel
for Mr. Hastings, which turned entirely in favour of the
latter.(270) When they entered their committee-box, led on as
usual by Mr. Burke, they all appeared in the extremest and most
angry emotion.
When they had caballed together some time, Mr. Windham came up
among the Commons, to bow to some ladies of his acquaintance, and
then to speak to me ; but he was so agitated and so disconcerted,
he could name nothing but their recent provocation from the
Lords. He seemed quite enraged, and broke forth with a vehemence
I should not much have liked to have excited. They had
experienced, he said, in the late decision, the Most injurious
treatment that could be offered them: the Lords had resolved upon
saving Mr. Hastings, and
the chancellor had taken him under the grossest protection.
Page 128
"In short," said he, "the whole business is taken out of our
hands, and they have all determined to save him."
"Have they indeed?" cried I, with Involuntary eagerness.
"Yes," answered he, perceiving how little I was shocked for him,
"it is now all going your way."
I could not pretend to be sorry, and only inquired if Mr. Fox was
to speak.
"I know not," cried he, hastily, "what is to be done, who will
speak, or what will be resolved. Fox is in a rage! Oh, a rage!"
"But yet I hope he will speak. I have never heard him."
"No? not the other day?"
"No; I was then at Windsor."
"Oh yes, I remember you told me you were going. You have lost
every thing by it! To-day will be nothing, he is all rage! On
Tuesday he was great indeed. You should have heard him then.
And Burke, You should have heard the conclusion of Burke's
speech; 'twas the noblest ever uttered by man!"
"So I have been told."
"To-day you will hear nothing--know nothing,--there will be no
opportunity,- Fox is all fury."
I told him he almost frightened me; for he spoke in a tremor
himself that was really unpleasant.
"Oh!" cried he, looking at me half reproachfully, half
goodhumouredly, "Fox's fury is with the Lords--not there!"
pointing to Mr. Hastings.
I saw by this he entered into my feelings in the midst of his
irritability, and that gave me courage to cry out, "I am glad of
that at least!:
Mr. Fox spoke five hours, and with a violence that did not make
me forget what I had heard of his being in such a fury but I
shall never give any account of these speeches, as they will all
be printed. I shall only say a word of the speakers as far as
relates to my own feelings about them, and that briefly will be
to say that I adhere to Mr. Burke, whose oratorical powers appear
to me far more gentleman-like, scholar-like, and fraught with
true genius than those of Mr. Fox. it may be I am prejudiced by
old kindnesses of Mr. Burke, and it may be that the countenance
of Mr. Fox may have turned me against him, for it struck me to
have a boldness in it quite hard and callous. However, it is
little matter how much my judgment in this point may err. With
you, my dear friends, I have
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nothing further to do than simply to give it ; and even should it
be wrong, it will not very essentially injure you in your
politics.
MRS. CREWE, MR. BURKE, AND MR. WINDHAM.
Again, on the fourth time of my attendance at Westminster Hall,
honest James was my esquire.
We were so late from divers accidents that we did not enter till
the same moment with the prisoner. In descending the steps I
heard my name exclaimed with surprise, and looking before me, I
saw myself recognised by Mrs. Crewe. "Miss Burney," she cried,
"who could have thought of seeing you here!"
Very obligingly she made me join her immediately, which, as I was
with no lady, was a very desirable circumstance; and though her
political principles are well known, and, of course, lead her to
side with the enemies of Mr. Hastings, she had the
good sense to conclude me on the other side, and the delicacy
never once to distress me by any discussion of the prosecution.
I was much disappointed to find nothing intended for this day's
trial but hearing evidence; no speaker was preparing; all the
attention was devoted to the witnesses.
Mr. Adam, Mr. Dudley Long, and others that I know not, Came from
the committee to chat with Mrs. Crewe; but soon after one came
not so unknown to me--Mr. Burke; and Mrs. Crewe, seeing him
ascend, named him to me, but was herself a little surprised to
see it was his purpose to name himself, for he immediately made
up to me, and with an air of such frank kindness that, could I
have forgot his errand in that Hall, would have made me receive
him as formerly, when I was almost fascinated with him. But far
other were my sensations. I trembled as he approached me, with
conscious change of sentiments, and with a dread of his pressing
from me a disapprobation he might resent, but which I knew not
how to disguise.
"Near-sighted as I am," cried he, "I knew you immediately. I
knew you from our box the moment I looked up; yet how long it is,
except for an instant here, since I have seen you!"
"Yes," I hesitatingly answered, "I live in a monastery now."
He said nothing to this. He felt, perhaps, it was meant to
express my inaccessibility.
Page 130
I inquired after Mrs. Burke. He recounted to me the particulars
of his sudden seizure when he spoke last, from the cramp in his
stomach, owing to a draught of cold water which he drank in the
midst of the heat of his oration.
I could not even wear a semblance of being sorry for him on this
occasion; and my cold answers made him soon bend down to speak
with Mrs. Crewe.
I was seated in the next row to her, just above.
Mr. Windham was now talking with her. My whole curiosity and
desire being to hear him, which had induced me to make a point of
coming this time, I was eager to know if my chance was wholly
gone. "You are aware," I cried, when he spoke to me, "what
brings me here this morning
No;" he protested he knew not.
Mrs. Crewe, again a little surprised, I believe, at this second
opposition acquaintance, began questioning how often I had
attended this trial.
Mr. Windham, with much warmth of regret, told her very seldom,
and that I had lost Mr. Burke on his best day.
I then turned to speak to Mr. Burke, that I might not seem
listening, for they interspersed various civilities upon my
peculiar right to have heard all the great speeches, but Mr.
Burke was in so profound a reverie he did not hear me.
I wished Mr. Windham had not either, for he called upon him
aloud, "Mr. Burke, Miss Burney speaks to you!"
He gave me his immediate attention with an air so full of respect
that it quite shamed me.
"Indeed," I cried, " I had never meant to speak to Mr. Burke
again after hearing him in Westminster Hall. I had meant to keep
at least that " geographical timidity."
I alluded to an expression in his great speech of "geographical
morality" which had struck me very much.
He laughed heartily, instantly comprehending me, and assured me
it was an idea that had occurred to him on the moment he had
uttered it, wholly without study.
A little general talk followed; and then, one of the lords rising
to question some of the evidence, he said he must return to his
committee and business,-very flatteringly saying, in quitting his
post, "This is the first time I have played truant from the
manager's box."
However I might be obliged to him, which sincerely I felt, I was
yet glad to have him go. My total ill will to all he was about
made his conversation merely a pain to me.
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I did not feel the same With regard to Mr. Windham. He is not
the prosecutor, and seems endowed with so much liberality and
candour that it not Only encourages me to speak to him what I
think, but leads me to believe he will one day or other reflect
upon joining a party so violent as a stain to the independence of
his character.
Almost instantly he came forward, to the place Mr. Burke had
vacated.
"Are you approaching," I cried, "to hear my upbraidings?"
"Why--I don't know," cried he, looking half alarmed.
"Oh! I give you warning, if you come you must expect them; so my
invitation is almost as pleasant as the man's in 'Measure for
Measure,' who calls to Master Barnardine, 'Won't you come down to
be hanged?'"
"But how," cried he, "have I incurred your upbraidings?"
"
By bringing me here," I answered, "only to disappoint me."
"Did I bring you here?"
"Yes, by telling me you were to speak to-day."
He protested he could never have made such an assertion. I
explained myself, reminding him he had told me he was certainly
to speak before the recess; and that, therefore, when I was
informed this was to be the last day of trial till after the
recess, I concluded I should be right, but found myself so
utterly wrong as to hear nothing but such evidence as I Could not
even understand, because it was so uninteresting I could not even
listen to it.
"How strangely," he exclaimed, "are we all moulded, that nothing
ever in this mortal life, however pleasant in itself, and however
desirable from its circumstances, can come to us without alloy--
not even flattery; for here, at this moment, all the high
gratification I should feel, and I am well disposed to feel it
thoroughly in supposing you could think it worth your while to
come hither in order to hear me, is kept down and subdued by the
consciousness how much I must disappoint you."
"Not at all," cried I; "the worse you speak, the better for my
side of the question."
He laughed, but confessed the agitation of his spirits was so
great in the thought of that speech, whenever he was to make it,
that it haunted him in fiery dreams in his sleep.
"Sleep!" cried I; "do you ever sleep?"
He stared a little, but I added with pretended dryness, "Do any
of you that live down there in that prosecutor's den ever sleep
in your beds? I should have imagined that, had you
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even attempted it, the anticipating ghost of Mr. Hastings would
have appeared to you in the dead of the night, and have drawn
your curtains, and glared ghastly in your eyes. I do heartily
wish Mr. Tickell would send You that 'Anticipation' at once!"
This idea furnished us with sundry images, till, looking down
upon Mr. Hastings, with an air a little moved, he said, "I am
afraid the most insulting thing we do by him is coming up hither
to show ourselves so easy and disengaged, and to enter into
conversation with the ladies."
"But I hope," cried I, alarmed, "he does not see that."
"Why your caps," cried he, "are much in your favour for
concealment; they are excellent screens to all but the first
row!"
I saw him, however, again look at the poor, and, I sincerely
believe, much-injured prisoner, and as I saw also he still bore
With my open opposition, I could not but again seize a favourable
moment for being more serious With him.
"Ah, Mr. Windham," I cried, "I have not forgot what dropped from
you on the first day of this trial."
He looked a little surprised. "You," I continued, "probably have
no remembrance of it, for you have been living ever since down
there; but I was more touched with what you said then, than with
all I have since heard from all the others, and probably than
with all I shall hear even from you again when you mount the
rostrum."
"You conclude," cried he, looking very sharp, "I shall then be
better steeled against that fatal candour?"
"In fact," cried I, "Mr. Windham, I do really believe your
steeling to he factitious; notwithstanding you took pains to
assure me your candour was but the deeper malice; and yet I will
own, when once I have heard your speech, I have little
expectation of ever having the honour of conversing with you
again."
"And why?" cried- he, starting back "what am I to say that you
denounce such a forfeit beforehand?"
I could not explain; I left him to imagine; for, should he prove
as violent and as personal as the rest, I had no objection to his
previously understanding I could have no future pleasure in
discoursing with him.
"I think, however," I continued, with a laugh, "that since I have
settled this future taciturnity, I have a fair right in the
meanwhile to say whatever comes uppermost."
Page 133
He agreed to this with great approvance.
"Molière, you know, in order to obtain a natural opinion of his
plays, applied to an old woman: you upon the same principle, to
obtain a natural opinion of political matters, should apply to an
ignorant one--for you will never, I am sure, gain it down there."
He smiled, whether he would or not, but protested this was the
severest stricture upon his committee that had ever yet been
uttered.
MISS BURNEY'S UNBIASED SENTIMENTS.
I told him as it was the last time he was likely to hear unbiased
sentiments upon this subject, it was right they should be spoken
very intelligibly. " And permit me," I said, " to begin with
what strikes me the most. Were Mr. Hastings really the culprit
he is represented, he would never stand there."
"Certainly," cried he, with a candour he could not suppress,
"there seems something favourable in that; it has a Pod look; but
assure yourself he never expected to see this day."
"But would he, if guilty, have waited its chance? Was not all the
world before him? Could he not have chosen any other place of
residence ?"
"Yes--but the shame, the disgrace of a flight?"
"What is it all to the shame and disgrace of convicted guilt?"
He made no answer.
"And now," I continued, "shall I tell you, just in the same
simple style, how I have been struck with the speakers and
speeches I have yet heard?" He eagerly begged me to go on.
"The whole of this public speaking is quite new to me. I was
never in the House of Commons. It is all a new creation to me."
"And what a creation it is he exclaimed. "how noble, how
elevating! and what an inhabitant for it!"
I received his compliment with great courtesy, as an
encouragement. for me to proceed. I then began upon Mr. Burke;
but I must give you a very brief summary of my speech, as it
could only be intelligible at full length from your having heard
his. I told him that his opening had struck me with the highest
admiration of his powers, from the eloquence, the imagination,
the fire, the diversity of expression, and the ready flow of
language, with which he seemed gifted, in a most superior manner,
for any and every purpose to which rhetoric
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could lead. "And when he came to his two narratives," I
continued, "whence he related the particulars of those dreadful
murders, he interested, he engaged, he at last overpowered me; I
felt my cause lost. I Could hardly keep on my seat. My eyes
dreaded a single glance towards a man so accused as Mr. Hastings;
I wanted to sink on the floor, that they might be saved so
painful a sight. I had no hope he could clear himself; not
another wish in his favour remained. But When from this
narration Mr. Burke proceeded to his own comments and
declamation--when the charges of rapacity, cruelty, tyranny were
general, and made with all the violence of personal detestation,
and continued and aggravated without any further fact or
illustration; then there appeared more of study than of truth,
more of invective than of justice; and, in short, so little of
proof to so much of passion, that in a very short time I began to
lift up my head, my seat was no longer uneasy, my eyes were
indifferent which way they looked, or what object caught them;
and before I was myself aware of the declension of Mr. Burke's
powers over my feelings, I found myself a mere spectator in a
public place, and looking all around it, with my opera-glass in
my hand."
His eyes sought the ground on hearing this, and with no other
comment than a rather uncomfortable shrug of the shoulders, he
expressively and concisely said--"I comprehend you perfectly!"
This was a hearing too favourable to stop me; and Mr. Hastings
constantly before me was an animation to my spirits which nothing
less could have given me, to a manager of such a committee.
I next, therefore, began upon Mr. Fox; and I ran through the
general matter of his speech, with such observations as had
occurred to me in hearing it. "His violence," I said, "had that
sort of monotony that seemed to result from its being factitious,
and I felt less pardon for that than for any extravagance in Mr.
Burke, whose excesses seemed at least to be unaffected, and, if
they spoke against his judgment, spared his probity. Mr. Fox
appeared to have no such excuse; he looked all good humour and
negligent ease the instant before he began a speech of
uninterrupted passion and vehemence, and he wore the same
careless and disengaged air the very instant he had finished. A
display of talents in which the inward man took so little share
could have no powers of persuasion to those who saw them in that
light and therefore.
Page 135
however their brilliancy might be admired, they were useless to
their cause, for they left the mind of the hearer in the same
state that they found it."
After a short vindication of his friends, he said, "You have
never heard Pitt? You would like him beyond any other
competitor."
And then he made his panegyric in very strong terms, allowing him
to be equal, ready, splendid, wonderful!--he was in constant
astonishment himself at his powers and success;--his youth and
inexperience never seemed against him: though he mounted to his
present height after and in opposition to such a vortex of
splendid abilities, yet, alone and unsupported, he coped with
them all! And then, with conscious generosity, he finished a
most noble éloge with these words: "Take--you may take--the
testimony of an enemy--a very confirmed enemy of Mr. Pitt's!"
Not very confirmed, I hope! A man so liberal can harbour no
enmity of that dreadful malignancy that sets mitigation at
defiance for ever.
He then asked me if I had heard Mr. Grey?
" No," I answered ; " I can come but seldom, and therefore I
reserved myself for to-day."
"You really fill me with compunction," he cried. "But if,
indeed, I have drawn you into so cruel a waste of your time, the
only compensation I can make you will be carefully to keep from
you the day when I shall really speak."
"No," I answered, "I must hear you; for that is all I now wait
for to make up my final opinion."
"And does it all rest with me?--'Dreadful responsibility'--as Mr.
Hastings powerfully enough expresses himself in his narrative."
"And can you allow an expression of Mr. Hastings's to be
powerful?--That is not like Mr. Fox, who, in acknowledging some
one small thing to be right, in his speech, checked himself for
the acknowledgment by hastily saying 'Though I am no great
admirer of the genius and abilities of the gentleman at the
bar;'--as if he had pronounced a sentence in a parenthesis,
between hooks,--so rapidly he flew off to what he could
positively censure."
" And hooks they were indeed he cried.
"Do not inform against me," I continued, "and I will give you a
little more of Molière's old woman."
He gave me his parole, and looked very curious,
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"Well then,--amongst the things most striking to an unbiased
spectator was that action of the orator that led him to look full
at the prisoner upon every hard part of the charge. There was no
courage in it, since the accused is so situated he must make no
answer; and, not being courage, to Molière's old woman it could
only seem cruelty!"
He quite gave up this point without a defence, except telling me
it was from the habit of the House of Commons, as Fox, who
chiefly had done this, was a most good-humoured man, and by
nothing but habit would have been betrayed into such an error.
"And another thing," I cried, "which strikes those ignorant of
senatorial licence, is this,--that those perpetual repetitions,
from all the speakers, of inveighing against the power, the
rapacity, the tyranny, the despotism of the gentleman at the bar,
being uttered now, when we see him without any power, without
even liberty-con fined to that spot, and the only person in this
large assembly who may not leave it when he will--when we see
such a contrast to all we hear we think the simplest relation
would be sufficient for all purposes of justice, as all that goes
beyond plain narrative, instead of sharpening indignation, only
calls to mind the greatness of the fall, and raises involuntary
commiseration!"
"And you wish," he cried, "to hear me? How you add to my
difficulties!--for now, instead of thinking of Lords, Commons,
bishops, and judges before me, and of the delinquent and his
counsel at my side, I shall have every thought and faculty
swallowed up in thinking of who is behind me!"
This civil speech put an end to Molière's old woman and her
comments; and not to have him wonder at her unnecessarily, I
said, "Now, then, Mr. Windham, shall I tell you fairly what it is
that induced me to say all this to you?--Dr. Johnson!--what I
have heard from him of Mr. Windham has been the cause of all this
hazardous openness."
"'Twas a noble cause," cried he, well pleased, "and noble has
been its effect! I loved him, indeed, sincerely. He has left a
chasm in my heart-a chasm in the world ! There was in him what I
never saw before, what I never shall find again! I lament every
moment as lost, that I might have spent in his society, and yet
gave to any other."
How it delighted me to hear this just praise, thus warmly
uttered!--I could speak from this moment upon no other subject.
I told him how much it gratified me; and we agreed
Page 137
in comparing notes upon the very few opportunities his real
remaining friends could now meet with of a similar indulgence,
since so little was his intrinsic worth understood, while so
deeply all his foibles had been felt, that in general it was
merely a matter of pain to hear him even named.
How did we then emulate each other in calling to mind all his
excellences!
"His abilities," cried Mr. Windham, "were gigantic, and always at
hand no matter for the subject, he had information ready for
everything. He was fertile,--he was universal."
My praise of him was of a still more solid kind,--his principles,
his piety, his kind heart under all its rough coating: but I need
not repeat what I said,--my dear friends know every word.
I reminded him of the airings, in which he gave his time with his
carriage for the benefit of Dr. Johnson's health. "What an
advantage!" he cried, "was all that to myself! I had not merely
an admiration, but a tenderness for him,--the more I knew him,
the stronger it became. We never disagreed ; even in politics, I
found it rather words than things in which we differed."
"And if you could so love him," cried I, "knowing him only in a
general way, what would you have felt for him had you known him
at Streatham?"
I then gave him a little history of his manners and way of life,
there,--his good humour, his sport, his kindness, his
sociability, and all the many excellent qualities that, in the
world at large, were by so many means obscured.
He was extremely interested in all I told him, and regrettingly
said he had only known him in his worst days, when his health was
upon its decline, and infirmities were crowding- fast upon him.
"Had he lived longer," he cried, "I am satisfied I should have
taken to him almost wholly. I should have taken him to my heart!
have looked up to him, applied to him, advised with him in all
the most essential occurrences of my life! I am sure, too,--
though it is a proud assertion,--he would have liked me, also,
better, had we mingled more. I felt a mixed fondness and
reverence growing so strong upon me, that I am satisfied the
closest union would have followed his longer life."
I then mentioned how kindly he had taken his visit to him at
Lichfield during a severe illness, "And he left you," I said, "a
book ? "
Page 138
"Yes," he answered, "and he gave me one, also, just before he
died. 'You will look into this Sometimes,' he said, 'and not
refuse to remember whence you had it.' "(271)
And then he added he had heard him speak of me,--and with so much
kindness, that I was forced not to press a recapitulation: yet
now I wish I had heard it.
just before we broke up, "There Is nothing," he cried, with
energy, "for which I look back upon myself with severer
discipline than the time I have thrown away in other pursuits,
that might else have been devoted to that wonderful man!"
He then said he must be gone,--he was one in a committee of the
House, and could keep away no longer.
BURKE AND SHERIDAN MEET WITH COLD RECEPTIONS.
I then again joined in with Mrs. Crewe, who, meantime, had had
managers without end to converse with her.
But, very soon after, Mr. Burke mounted to the House of
Commons(272) again, and took the place left by Mr. Windham.
I inquired very much after Mrs. Burke, and we talked
of the spectacle, and its fine effect; and I ventured to
mention, allusively, some of the digressive parts of the great
speech in which I had heard him: but I saw him anxious for
speaking more to the point, and as I could not talk to him--the
leading prosecutor--with that frankness of opposing sentiments
which I used to Mr. Windham, I was anxious only to avoid talking
at all; and so brief was my speech, and so long my silences,
that, of course, he was soon wearied into a retreat. Had he not
acted such a part, with what pleasure should I have exerted
myself to lengthen his stay!
Yet he went not in wrath: for, before the close, he came yet a
third time, to say "I do not pity you for having to sit there so
long, for, with you, sitting can now be no punishment."
"No," cried I, "I may take rest for a twelvemonth back." His son
also came to speak to me; but, not long after,
Page 139
Mrs. Crewe called upon me to say, "Miss Burney, Mr. Sheridan begs
me to introduce him to you, for he thinks you have forgot him."
I did not feel very comfortable in this; the part he acts would
take from me all desire for his notice, even were his talents as
singular as they are celebrated. Cold, therefore, was my
reception of his salutations, though as civil as I could make it.
He talked a little over our former meeting at Mrs.
Cholmondeley's, and he reminded me of what he had there urged and
persuaded with all his might, namely, that I would write a
comedy; and he now reproached me for my total disregard of his
counsel and opinion.
I made little or no answer, for I am always put out by such sort
of discourse, especially when entered upon with such abruptness.
Recollecting, then, that "Cecilia" had been published since that
time, he began a very florid flourish, saying he was in my debt
greatly, not only for reproaches about what I had neglected, but
for fine speeches about what I had performed. I hastily
interrupted him with a fair retort, exclaiming,--"O if fine
speeches may now be made, I ought to begin first---but know not
where I should end!" I then asked after Mrs. Sheridan, and he
soon after left me.
Mrs. Crewe was very obligingly solicitous our renewed
acquaintance should not drop here; she asked me to name any day
for dining with her, or to send to her at any time when I could
arrange a visit: but I was obliged to decline it, on the general
score of wanting time.
In the conclusion of the day's business there was much speaking,
and I heard Mr. Fox, Mr. Burke, and several others; but the whole
turned extremely in favour of the gentleman at the bar, to the
great consternation of the accusers, whose own witnesses gave
testimony, most unexpectedly, on the side of Mr. Hastings.
We came away very late; my dear James quite delighted with this
happy catastrophe.
AT WINDSOR AGAIN.
March.-In our first journey to Windsor this month Mrs.
Schwellenberg was still unable to go, and the party was Miss
Planta, Colonel Wellbred, Mr. Fairly, Sir Joseph Banks, and Mr.
Turbulent.
Page 140
Sir Joseph was so exceedingly shy that we made no sort of
acquaintance. If instead of going round the world he had only
fallen from the moon, he could not appear less versed in the
usual modes of a tea-drinking party. But what, you will say, has
a tea-drinking party to do with a botanist, a man of science, a
president of the Royal Society?
I left him , however, to the charge of Mr. Turbulent, the two
colonels becoming, as usual, my joint supporters. And Mr.
Turbulent, in revenge, ceased not one moment to watch Colonel
Wellbred, nor permitted him to say a word, or to hear an answer,
without some most provoking grimace. Fortunately, upon this
subject he cannot confuse me; I have not a sentiment about
Colonel Wellbred, for or against, that shrinks from examination.
To-night, however, my conversation was almost wholly with him. I
would not talk with Mr. Turbulent; I could not talk with Sir
Joseph Banks - and Mr. Fairly did not talk with me : he had his
little son with him; he was grave and thoughtful, and seemed
awake to no other pleasure than discoursing with that sweet boy.
I believe I have forgotten to mention that Mrs. Gwynn had called
upon me one morning, in London, and left me a remarkably fine
impression of Mr. Bunbury's "Propagation of a Lie," which I had
mentioned when she was at Windsor, with regret at having never
seen it. This I had produced here a month ago, to show to our
tea-party, and just as it was in the hands of Colonel Wellbred,
his majesty entered the room; and, after looking at it a little
while, with much entertainment, he took it away to show it to the
queen and princesses. I thought it lost; for Colonel Wellbred
said he concluded it would be thrown amidst the general hoard of
curiosities, which, when once seen, are commonly ever after
forgotten, yet which no one has courage to name and to claim.
This evening, however, the colonel was successful, and recovered
me my print. It is so extremely humorous that I was very glad to
receive it, and in return I fetched my last
sketches, which Mr. William Locke had most kindly done for me
when here last autumn, and indulged Colonel Wellbred with looking
at them, charging him at the same time to guard them from a
similar accident. I meant to show them myself to my royal
mistress, who is all care, caution, and delicacy, to restore to
the right owner whatever she receives with a perfect knowledge
who the right owner is,
Page 141
The second volume of the "Letters" of my reverenced Dr. Johnson
was now lent me by her majesty; I found in them very frequent
mention of our name, but nothing to alarm in the reading it.
DEATH OF MRS. DELANY.
April.-I have scarce a memorandum of this fatal month, in which I
was bereft of the most revered of friends, and, perhaps, the most
perfect of women.(273) I am yet scarce able to settle whether to
glide silently and resignedly--as far as I can--past all this
melancholy deprivation, or whether to go back once more to the
ever-remembered, ever-sacred scene that closed the earthly
pilgrimage of my venerable, my sainted friend.
I believe I heard the last words she uttered : I cannot learn
that she spoke after my reluctant departure. She finished with
that cheerful resignation, that lively hope, which always broke
forth when this last--awful--but, to her, most happy change
seemed approaching.
Poor Miss Port and myself were kneeling by her bedside. She had
just given me her soft hand; without power to see either of us,
she felt and knew us. O, never can I cease to cherish the
remembrance of the sweet, benign, holy voice with which she
pronounced a blessing upon us both! We kissed her--and, with a
smile all beaming--I thought it so--of heaven, she seemed then to
have taken leave of all earthly solicitudes. Yet then, even
then, short as was her time on earth, the same soft human
sensibility filled her for poor human objects. She would not bid
us farewell--would not tell us she should speak with us no more--
she only said, as she turned gently away from us, "And now--I'll
go to sleep!"--But, O, in what a voice she said it! I felt what
the sleep would be; so did poor Miss Port.
Poor, sweet, unfortunate girl! what deluges of tears did she shed
over me! I promised her in that solemn moment my eternal regard,
and she accepted this, my first protestation of any kind made to
her, as some solace to her sufferings. Sacred shall I hold
it!--sacred to my last hour. I believe, indeed, that angelic
being had no other wish equally fervent.
How full of days and full of honours was her exit! I should
blush at the affliction of my heart in losing her, could I ever
Page 142
believe excellence was given us here to love and to revere, yet
gladly to relinquish. No, I cannot think it: the deprivation may
be a chastisement, but not a joy. We may submit to it with
patience; but we cannot have felt it with warmth where we lose it
without pain, Outrageously to murmur, or sullenly to refuse
consolation--there, indeed, we are rebels against the
dispensations of providence--and rebels yet more weak than
wicked; for what and whom is it we resist? what and who are we
for such resistance ?
She bid me--how often did she bid me not grieve to lose her! Yet
she said, in my absence, she knew I must, and sweetly regretted
how much I must miss her. I teach myself to think of her
felicity; and I never dwell upon that without faithfully feeling
I would not desire her return. But, in every other channel in
which my thoughts and feelings turn, I miss her with so sad a
void! She was all that I dearly loved that remained within my
reach; she was become the bosom repository of all the livelong
day's transactions, reflections, feelings, and wishes. Her own
exalted mind was all expanded when we met. I do not think she
concealed from me the most secret thought of her heart; and while
every word that fell from her spoke wisdom, piety, and
instruction, her manner had an endearment, her spirits a native
gaiety, and her smile, to those she loved, a tenderness so
animated.
Blessed spirit! sweet, fair, and beneficent on earth!--O, gently
mayest thou now be at rest in that last home to which fearfully I
look forward, yet not hopeless; never that--and sometimes with
fullest, fairest, sublimest expectations! If to her it be given
to plead for those she left, I shall not be forgotten in her
prayer. Rest to her sweet soul! rest and everlasting peace to
her gentle spirit!
I saw my poor lovely Miss Port twice in every day, when in town,
till after the last holy rites had been performed. I had no
peace away from her; I thought myself fulfilling a wish of that
sweet departed saint, in consigning all the time I had at my own
disposal to solacing and advising with her beloved niece, who
received this little offering with a sweetness that once again
twined her round my heart. . . .
Poor Mrs. Astley, the worthy humble friend, rather than servant,
of the most excellent departed, was the person whom, next to the
niece, I most pitied. She was every way to be lamented: unfit
for any other service, but unprovided for in this, by the
utter and most regretted inability of her much
Page 143
attached mistress, who frequently told me that leaving poor
Astley unsettled hung heavy on her mind.
My dearest friends know, the success I had in venturing to
represent her worth and situation to my royal mistress. In the
moment when she came to my room to announce his majesty's
gracious intention to pension Mrs. Astley here as housekeeper to
the same house, I really could scarce withhold myself from
falling prostrate at her feet : I never felt such a burst of
gratitude but where I had no ceremonials to repress it. Joseph,
too, the faithful footman, I was most anxious to secure in some
good service-- and I related my wishes for him to General Cary,
who procured for him a place with his daughter, Lady Amherst.
I forget if I have ever read you the sweet words that accompanied
to me the kind legacies left me by my honoured friend. I believe
not. They were ordered to be sent me with the portrait of
Sacharissa, and two medallions of their majesties: they were
originally written to accompany the legacy to the Bishop of
Worcester, Dr. Hurd, as you may perceive by the style, but it was
desired they might also be copied:--
"I take this liberty, that my much esteemed and respected friend
may sometimes recollect a person who was so sensible of the
honour of her friendship and who delighted so much in her
conversation and works."
Need I--O, I am sure I need not say with what tender, grateful,
sorrowing joy I received these sweet pledges of her invaluable
regard!
To these, by another codicil, was added the choice of one of her
mosaic flowers. And verbally, on the night but one before she
died, she desired I might have her fine quarto edition of
Shakespeare, sweetly saying she had never received so much
pleasure from him in any other way as through my reading.
THE HASTINGS TRIAL AND MR. WINDHAM AGAIN.
The part of this month in which my Susanna was in town I kept no
journal at all. And I have now nothing to add but to copy those
memorandums I made of the trial on the day I went to Westminster
Hall with my two friends,(274) previously to
Page 144
the deep calamity on which I have dwelt. They told me they could
not hear what Mr. Windham said; and there is a spirit in his
discourse more worth their hearing than any other thing I have
now to write.
You may remember his coming straight from the managers, in their
first procession to their box, and beginning at once a most
animated attack--scarcely waiting first to say "How do!"--before
he exclaimed "I have a great quarrel with you--I am come now
purposely to quarrel with you--you have done me mischief
irreparable--you have ruined me!"
"Have I?"
"Yes: and not only with what passed here, even setting that
aside, though there was mischief enough here; but you have quite
undone me since!"
I begged him to let me understand how.
"I will," he cried. "When the trial broke up for the recess I
went into the country, purposing to give my whole time to study
and business; but, most unfortunately, I had just sent for a new
set of 'Evelina;' and intending only to look at it, I was so
cruelly caught that I could not let it out of my hands, and have
been living with nothing but the Branghtons ever since."
I could not but laugh, though on this subject 'tis always
awkwardly.
"There was no parting with it," he continued. "I could not shake
it off from me a moment!--see, then, every way, what mischief you
have done me!"
He ran on to this purpose much longer, with great rapidity, and
then, suddenly, stopping, again said, "But I have yet another
quarrel with you, and one you must answer. How comes it that the
moment you have attached us to the hero and the heroine--the
instant you have made us cling to them so that there is no
getting disengaged--twined, twisted, twirled them round our very
heart-strings--how is it that then you make them undergo such
persecutions? There is really no enduring their distresses, their
Suspenses, their perplexities. Why are you so cruel to all
around--to them and their readers?"
I longed to say--Do you object to a persecution?--but I know he
spells it prosecution.
I could make no answer: I never can. Talking over one's own
writings seems to me always ludicrous, because it cannot be
impartially, either by author or commentator; one feeling,
Page 145
the other fearing, too much for strict truth and unaffected
candour.
When we found the subject quite hopeless as to discussion, he
changed it, and said "I have lately seen some friends of yours,
and I assure you I gave you an excellent character to them: I
told them you were firm, fixed, and impenetrable to all
conviction."
An excellent character, indeed! He meant to Mr. Francis and
Charlotte.
Then he talked a little of the business of the day and he told me
that Mr. Anstruther was to speak.
"I was sure of it," I cried,, "by his manner when he entered the
managers' box. I shall know when you are to speak, Mr. Windham,
before I hear you.,"
He shrugged his shoulders a little uncomfortably. I asked him to
name to me the various managers. He did ; adding, "Do you not
like to sit here, where you can look down upon the several
combatants before the battle?"
When he named Mr. Michael Angelo Taylor, I particularly desired
he might be pointed out to me, telling him I had long
wished to see him, from the companion given to him in one of the
"Probationary Odes," where they have coupled him with my dear
father, most impertinently and unwarrantably.
"That, indeed," he cried, "is a licentiousness in the press quite
intolerable--to attack and involve private characters in their
public lampoons! To Dr. Burney they could have no right; but Mr.
Michael Angelo Taylor is fair game enough, and likes that or any
other way whatever of obtaining notice. You know what Johnson
said to Boswell of preserving fame?"
"No."
"There were but two ways," he told him, "of preserving; one was
by sugar, the other by salt. 'Now,' says he, 'as the sweet way,
Bozzy, you are but little likely to attain, I would have you
plunge into vinegar, and get fairly pickled at once.' And such
has been the plan of Mr. Michael Angelo Taylor. With the sweet
he had, indeed, little chance, so he soused into the other, head
over ears."
We then united forces in repeating passages from various of the
"Probationary Odes," and talking over various of the managers,
till Mr. Anstruther was preparing to speak, and Mr. Windham went
to his cell.
I am sure you will remember that Mr. Burke came also,
Page 146
and the panic with which I saw him, doubled by my fear lest he
should see that panic.
When the speech was over, and evidence was filling up the day's
business, Mr. Windham returned. Some time after, but I have
forgotten how, we were agreeing in thinking suspense, and all
obscurity, in expectation or in opinion, almost the thing's most
trying to bear in this mortal life, especially where they lead to
some evil construction.
"But then," cried he, "on the other hand, there is nothing so
pleasant as clearing away a disagreeable prejudice; nothing SO
exhilarating as the dispersion of a black mist, and seeing all
that had been black and gloomy turn out bright and fair."
"That, Sir," cried I, "is precisely what I expect from thence,"
pointing to the prisoner.
What a look he gave me, yet he laughed irresistibly.
"However," I continued, "I have been putting my expectations from
your speech to a kind of test."
"And how, for heaven's sake?"
"Why, I have been reading--running over, rather--a set of
speeches, in which almost the whole House made a part, upon the
India bill ; and in looking over those I saw not one that had not
in it something positively and pointedly personal, except Mr.
Windham's."
"O, that was a mere accident."
"But it was just the accident I expected from Mr. Windham. I do
not mean that there was invective in all the others, for in some
there was panegyric--plenty! but that panegyric was always so
directed as to convey more of severe censure to one party than of
real praise to the other. Yours was all to the business, and
hence I infer you will deal just so by Mr. Hastings."
"I believe," cried he, looking at me very sharp, "you only want
to praise me down. You know what it is to skate a man down?"
"No, indeed."
"Why, to skate a man down is a very favourite diversion among a
certain race Of wags. It is only to praise, and extol, and
stimulate him to double and treble exertion and effort, till, in
order to show his desert of such panegyric, the poor dupe makes
so many turnings and windings, and describes circle after circle
with such hazardous dexterity, that, at last, down he drops in
the midst of his flourishes, to his own eternal disgrace, and
their entire content."
page 147
I gave myself no vindication from this charge but a laugh; and we
returned to discuss speeches and speakers, and I expressed again
my extreme repugnance against all personality in these public
harangues, except in simply stating facts.
" What say you, then," cried he, " to Pitt?" He then repeated a
warm and animated praise of his powers and his eloquence, but
finished with this censure: "He takes not," cried he, "the grand
path suited to his post as prime minister, for he is personal
beyond all men ; pointed, sarcastic, cutting ; and it is in him
peculiarly unbecoming. The minister should be always
conciliating; the attack, the probe, the invective, belong to the
assailant."
Then he instanced Lord North, and said much more on these
political matters and maxims than I can possibly write, or could
at the time do more than hear; for, as I told him, I not only am
no politician, but have no ambition to become one, thinking it by
no means a female business.
"THE QUEEN IS so KIND."
When he went to the managers' box, Mr. Burke again took his
place, but he held it a very short time, though he was in high
good humour and civility. The involuntary coldness that results
from internal disapprobation must, I am sure, have been seen, so
thoroughly was it felt. I can only talk on this matter with Mr.
Windham, who, knowing my opposite principles, expects to hear
them, and gives them the fairest play by his good humour,
candour, and politeness. But there is not one other manager with
whom I could venture such openness.
That Mr. Windham takes it all in good part is certainly amongst
the things he makes plainest, for again, after Mr. Burke's return
to the den, he came back.
"I am happy," cried I, "to find you have not betrayed me."
"Oh, no; I would not for the world."
"I am quite satisfied you have kept my counsel; for Mr. Burke has
been with me twice, and speaking with a good humour I could not
else have expected from him. He comes to tell me that he never
pities me for sitting here, whatever is going forward, as the
sitting must be rest; and, indeed, it seems as if my coming
hither was as much to rest my frame as to exercise my mind."
Page 148
"That's a very good idea, but I do not like to realize it ; I do
not like to think of you and fatigue together. Is it so? Do you
really want rest?"
"O, no."
"O, I am well aware yours is not a mind to turn complainer but
yet I fear, and not for your rest only, but your time. How is
that; have you it, as you Ought, at your own disposal?"
"Why not quite," cried I, laughing. Good heaven! what a
question, in a situation like mine!
"Well, that is a thing I cannot bear to think of--that you should
want time."
"But the queen," cried I, is so kind."
"That may be," interrupted he, "and I am very glad of it but
still, time--and to you!"
"Yet, after all, in the whole, I have a good deal, though always
Uncertain. for, if sometimes I have not two minutes when I
expect two hours, at other times I have two hours where I
expected only two minutes."
"All that is nothing, if you have them not with certainty. Two
hours are of no more value than two minutes, if you have them not
at undoubted command."
Again I answered, "The queen is so kind;" determined to sound
that sentence well and audibly into republican ears.
"Well, well," cried he, "that may be some compensation to you,
but to us, to all others, what compensation is there for
depriving you of time?"
"Mrs. Locke, here," cried I, "always wishes time could be bought,
because there are so many who have more than they know what to do
with, that those who have less might be supplied very
reasonably."
"'Tis an exceeding good idea," cried he, "and I am sure, if it
could be purchased, it ought to be given to YOU by act of
parliament, as a public donation and tribute." There was a fine
flourish!
PERSONAL RESEMBLANCE BETWEEN WINDHAM AND HASTINGS.
A little after, while we were observing Mr. Hastings, Mr. Windham
exclaimed, "He's looking up; I believe he is looking for you."
I turned hastily away, fairly saying, "I hope not."
Page 149
"Yes, he is; he seems as if he wanted to bow to you." I shrank
back. "No, he looks off; he thinks you in too bad company!"
"Ah, Mr. Windham," cried I, "you should not be so
hardhearted towards him, whoever else may; and I could
tell you, and I will tell you if you please, a very forcible
reason." He assented. "You must know, then, that people there
are in this world who scruple not to assert that there is a very
strong personal resemblance between Mr. Windham and Mr. Hastings;
nay, in the profile, I see it myself at this moment and therefore
ought not you to be a little softer than the rest, if merely in
sympathy?"
He laughed very heartily; and owned he had heard of the
resemblance before.
"I could take him extremely well," I cried, "for your uncle."
"No, no; if he looks like my elder brother, I aspire at no more."
"No, no; he is more like your uncle; he has just that air; he
seems just of that time of life. Can You then be so
unnatural as to prosecute him with this eagerness?"
And then, once again, I ventured to give him a little touch of
Molière's old woman, lest he should forget that good and honest
dame; and I told him there was one thing she particularly
objected to in all the speeches that had yet been made, and hoped
his speech would be exempt from.
He inquired what that was.
"Why, she says she does not like to hear every orator compliment
another; every fresh speaker say, he leaves to the superior
ability of his successor the prosecution of the business."
"O, no," cried he, very readily, "I detest all that sort of
adulation. I hold it in the utmost contempt."
"And, indeed, it will be time to avoid it when your turn comes,
for I have heard it in no less than four speeches already."
And then he offered his assistance about servants and carriages,
and we all came away, our different routes; but my Fredy and
Susan must remember my meeting with Mr. Hastings in coming out,
and his calling after me, and saying, with a very comic sort of
politeness, "I must come here to have the pleasure of seeing Miss
Burney, for I see her nowhere else."
What a strange incident would have been formed had this rencontre
happened thus if I had accepted Mr. Windham's offered services !
I am most glad I had not ; I should have felt myself a
conspirator, to have been so met by Mr. Hastings.
Page 150
DEATH OF YOUNG LADY MULGRAVE.
May.-On the 17th of this month Miss Port bade her sad reluctant
adieu to London. I gave what time I could command from Miss
Port's departure to my excellent and maternal Mrs. Ord, who
supported herself with unabating fortitude and resignation. But
a new calamity affected her much, and affected me greatly also,
though neither she nor I were more than distant spectators in
comparison with the nearer mourners; the amiable and lovely Lady
Mulgrave gave a child to her lord, and died, in the first dawn of
youthful beauty and sweetness, exactly a year after she became
his wife. 'Twas, indeed, a tremendous blow. It was all our
wonder that Lord Mulgrave kept his senses, as he had not been
famed for patience or piety; but I believe he was benignly
inspired with both, from his deep admiration of their excellence
in his lovely wife.
AGAIN AT WINDSOR.
I must mention a laughable enough circumstance. Her majesty
inquired of me if I had ever met with- Lady Hawke? "Oh yes," I
cried, "and Lady Say and Sele too." " She has just desired
permission to send me a novel of her own Writing," answered her
majesty.
"I hope," cried I, "'tis not the 'Mausoleum of Julia!'"
But yes, it proved no less ! and this she has now published and
sends about. You must remember Lady Say and Sele's quotation
from it.(275) Her majesty was so gracious as to lend it me, for
I had some curiosity to read it. It is all of a piece: all love,
love, love, unmixed and unadulterated with any more worldly
materials.
I read also the second volume of the "Paston Letters," and found
their character the same as in the first, and therefore read them
with curiosity and entertainment.
The greater part of the month was spent, alas! at Windsor, with
what a dreary vacuity of heart and of pleasure I need not say.
The only period of it in which my spirits could be commanded to
revive was during two of the excursions in which Mr. Fairly was
of the party; and the sight of him, calm, mild, nay cheerful,
under such superior sorrows-- --struck me with that sort of
edifying admiration that led me, perforce, to the best
Page 151
exertion in my power for the conquest of my deep depression. If
I did this from conscience in private, from a sense of obligation
to him in public I reiterated my efforts, as I received from him
all the condoling softness and attention he could possibly have
bestowed upon me had my affliction been equal or even greater
than his own.
ANOTHER MEETING WITH MR. CRUTCHLEY.
On one of the Egham race days the queen sent Miss Planta and me
on the course, in one of the royal coaches, with Lord Templeton
and Mr. Charles Fairly,(276) for our beaux. Lady Templeton was
then at the Lodge, and I had the honour of two or three
conferences with er during her stay. On the course, we were
espied by Mr. Crutchley, who instantly devoted himself to my
service for the morning--taking care of our places, naming
jockeys, horses, bets, plates, etc., and talking between times of
Streatham and all the Streathamites. We were both, I believe,
very glad of this discourse. He pointed out to me where his
house stood, in a fine park, within sight of the race-ground, and
proposed introducing me to his sister, who was his housekeeper,
and asking me if, through her invitation, I would come to Sunning
Hill park. I assured him I lived so completely in a monastery
that I could make no new acquaintance. He then said he expected
soon Susan and Sophy Thrale on a visit to his sister, and he
presumed I would not refuse coming to see them. I truly answered
I should rejoice to do it if in my power, but that most probably
I must content myself with meeting them on the Terrace. He
promised to bring them there with his sister, though he had given
up that walk these five years.
It will give me indeed great pleasure to see them again.
MR. TURBULENT'S TROUBLESOME PLEASANTRIES.
My two young beaux Stayed dinner with us, and I afterwards
strolled upon the lawn with them till tea-time. I could not go
on the Terrace, nor persuade them to go on by themselves. We
backed as the royal party returned home; and when they had all
entered the house, Colonel Wellbred, who had stood aloof, quitted
the train to join our little society. "Miss
Page 152
Burney," he cried, "I think I know which horse you betted upon!
Cordelia!"
"For the name's sake you think it," I cried; and he began some
questions and comments upon the races, when suddenly the window
of the tea-room opened, and the voice of Mr. Turbulent, with a
most sarcastic tone, called out, "I hope Miss Burney and Colonel
Wellbred are well!"
We could neither Of us keep a profound gravity, though really he
deserved it from us both. I turned from the Colonel, and said I
was coming directly to the tea-room.
Colonel Wellbred would have detained me to finish Our race
discourse, for he had shut the window when he had made his
speech, but I said it was time to go in.
"Oh no," cried he, laughing a little, "Mr. Turbulent only wants
his own tea, and he does not deserve it for this!"
In, however, I went, and Colonel Manners took the famous chair
the instant I was seated. We all began race talk, but Mr.
Turbulent, approaching very significantly, said, "Do you want a
chair On the other side, ma'am? Shall I tell the colonel-to bring
one?"
"No, indeed cried I, half seriously, lest he should do it. . . .
Colonel Wellbred, not knowing what had passed, came to that same
other side, and renewed his conversation. In the midst of all
this Mr. Turbulent hastily advanced with a chair, saying,
"Colonel Wellbred, I cannot bear to see you standing so long."
I found it impossible not to laugh under My hat, though I really
wished to bid him stand in a corner for a naughty boy. The
colonel, I suppose, laughed too, whether he would or not, for I
heard no answer. However, he took the chair, and finding me
wholly unembarrassed by this polissonnerie, though not wholly
unprovoked by it, he renewed his discourse, and kept his seat
till the party, very late, broke up; but Colonel Manners, who
knew not what to make of all this, exclaimed, "Why, ma'am, you
cannot keep Mr. Turbulent in much order."
June.-Mrs. Schwellenberg came to Windsor with us after the
birthday, for the rest of the summer.
Mr. Turbulent took a formal leave of me at the same time, as his
wife now came to settle at Windsor, and he ceased to belong to
our party. He only comes to the princesses at stated hours, and
then returns to his own home. He gave me many serious thanks for
the time passed with me, spoke in flourishing
Page 153
terms of its contrast to former times, and vowed no compensation
could ever be made him for the hours he had thrown away by
compulsion on "The Oyster."(277) His behaviour altogether was
very well--here and there a little eccentric, but, in the main,
merely good-humoured and high-spirited.
COLONEL FAIRLY AND SECOND ATTACHMENTS.
I am persuaded there is no manner of truth in the report relative
to Mr. Fairly and Miss Fuzilier, for he led me into a long
conversation with him one evening when the party was large, and
all were otherwise engaged, upon subjects of this nature, in the
course of which he asked me if I thought any second attachment
could either be as strong or as happy as a first.
I was extremely surprised by the question, and quite unprepared
how to answer it, as I knew not with what feelings or intentions
I might war by any unwary opinions. I did little, therefore, but
evade and listen, though he kept up the discourse in a very
animated manner, till the party all broke up.
Had I spoken without any consideration but what was general and
genuine, I should have told him that my idea was simply this,
that where a first blessing was withdrawn by providence, not lost
by misconduct, it seemed to me most consonant to reason, nature,
and mortal life, to accept what could come second, in this as in
all other deprivations. Is it not a species of submission to the
divine will to make ourselves as happy as we can in what is left
us to obtain, where bereft of what we had sought? My own
conflict for content in a life totally adverse to my own
inclinations, is all built on this principle, and when it
succeeds, to this owes its success.
I presumed not, however, to talk in this way to Mr. Fairly, for I
am wholly ignorant in what manner or to what degree his first
attachment may have rivetted his affections; but by the whole of
what passed it seemed to me very evident that he was not merely
entirely without any engagement, but entirely at this time
without any plan or scheme of forming any; and probably he never
may.
(257) "Selections from the State Papers preserved in the Foreign
Department of the Government of India, 1772-1785," Edited by G.
W. Forrest, VOL i. P, 178.
(258) "Warren Hastings," by Sir Alfred Lyall, p. 54.
(259) Selections from State Papers," vol. i. p. xlviii.
(260) In his defence at the bar of the House of Commons, (Feb.
4th, 1788) Sir Elijah Impey attempted to justify his conduct by
precedent, but the single precedent on which he relied does not
prove much in his favour. A Hindoo, named Radachund Metre, was
condemned to death for forgery in 1765, but was pardoned on this
very ground, that capital punishment for such a crime was unheard
of in India.
(261) Speech on Mr. Fox's East India Bill, Dec. 1st, 1783,
(262) Fanny's brother, the scholar. He was, at this time, master
of a school at Hammersmith-ED.
(263) Windham had introduced and carried through the House of
Commons the charge respecting Fyzoolla Khan, the Nawab of
Rampore; but this charge, with many others of the original
articles of impeachment, was not proceeded upon at the trial.
Fyzoolla Khan was one of the Rohilla chiefs, who, more fortunate
than the rest, had been permitted by treaty, after the conquest
of Rohilcund in 17 74, to retain possession of Rampore as a
vassal of the Vizier of Oude. By this treaty the Nawab of
Rampore was empowered to maintain an army of 5,000 horse and foot
in all and in return he bound himself to place from 2,000 to
3,000 troops at the disposal of the Vizier whenever that
assistance might be required. In November, 1780, the Vizier, or
rather, Hastings, speaking by the mouth of the Vizier, called
upon Fyzoolla Khan to furnish forthwith a contingent of 5,000
horse. The unhappy Nawab offered all the assistance in his
power, but not only Was the demand unwarranted by the terms of
the treaty, but the number of horse required was far greater than
he had the means to furnish. Thereupon Mr. Hastings gave
permission to the Vizier to dispossess his vassal of his
dominions. This iniquitous scheme, however, was never carried
out, and in 1782, Fyzoolla Khan made his peace with the
Governor-General, and procured his own future exemption from
military service, by payment of a large sum of money.-ED.
(264) Mr. Hastings's enemy was Mr. afterwards Sir Philip Francis,
by some people supposed to have been the author of "Junius's
Letters." The best friend of Mr. Hastings here alluded to was
Clement Francis, Esq. of Aylsham, in Norfolk, who married
Charlotte, fourth daughter of Dr. Burney. [Francis, though an
active supporter of the impeachment, was not one of the
"managers." He had been nominated to the committee by Burke, but
rejected by the House, on the ground of his well-known animosity
to Hastings.-ED.)
(265) After all, Impey escaped impeachment. In December, 1787,
Sir Gilbert Elliot, one of the managers of Hastings' impeachment,
brought before the House of Commons six charges against Impey, of
which the first, and most serious, related to the death of
Nuncomar. The charges were referred to a committee, before which
Impey made his defence, February 4, 1788. On May 9, a division
was taken on the first charge, and showed a majority of eighteen
in favour of Impey. The subject was resumed, May 27, and finally
disposed of by the rejection of sir Gilbert Elliot's motion
without a division-ED.
(266) Saturday, February 16, 1788.-ED.
(267) Macaulay attributes perhaps too exclusively to Court
influence Fanny's prepossession in favour of Hastings. It should
be remembered that her family and many of her friends were,
equally with herself, partisans of Hastings, to whom, moreover,
she had been first introduced by a much valued friend, Mr.
Cambridge (see ante, vol. i., P. 326).-ED.
(268) "Miss Fuzilier" is the name given in the "Diary" to Miss
Charlotte Margaret Gunning, daughter of Sir Robert Gunning. She
married Colonel Digby ("Mr. Fairly") in 1790.-ED.
(269) This would seem to fix the date as Thursday, February 21,
Thursday being mentioned by Fanny as the Court-day (see ante, p.
125). According, however, to Debrett's "History of the Trial,"
Fox spoke on the charge relating to Cheyt Sing on Friday,
February 22, the first day of the Court's sitting since the
preceding Tuesday.-ED. '
(270) The managers had desired that each charge should be taken
separately, and replied to, before proceeding to the next.
Hastings's counsel, on the other hand, demanded that all the
charges should be presented before the defence was opened. The
Lords, by a large majority, decided against the managers.-ED.
(271) Windham relates that when he called upon Dr. Johnson, six
days before his death, Johnson put into his hands a copy of the
New Testament, saying "Extremum hoc mumus morientis habeto." See
the extracts from Windham's journal in Croker's "Boswell," v.,
326. In a codicil to Johnson's will, dated Dec. 9, 1784,
we find, among other bequests of books, "to Mr. Windham, Poete
Greci Henrici per Henriculum Stephanum."-ED.
(272) i.e. to the benches assigned to the Commons in Westminster
Hall. These immediately adjoined the chamberlain's box in which
Miss Burney was seated.-ED.
(273) Mrs. Delany died on the 15th of April, 1788.-ED.
(274) Her sister Susan and Mrs. Locke. The day referred to must
have been Friday, April 11th, on which day Mr. Anstruther spoke
on the charge relating to Cheyt Sing.-ED.
(275) See ante, vol. 1, p. 220.-ED.
(276) The young son of Colonel Digby.-ED.
(277) Mrs. Haggerdorn, Fanny's predecessor in office. See ante,
p. 26.-ED.
Page 154
SECTION 13
(1788.)
ROYAL VISIT TO CHELTENHAM.
(Since her establishment at Court we have not yet found Fanny so
content with her surroundings as she shows herself in the
following section of the " Diary." The comparative quiet of
country life at Cheltenham was far more to her taste than the
tiresome splendours of Windsor and St. James's. She had still,
it is true, her official duties to perform : it was Court life
still, but Court life en déshabille. But her time was otherwise
more at her own disposal, and, above all things, the absence of
"Cerbera," as she nicknamed the amiable Mrs. Schwellenberg and
the presence of Colonel Digby, contributed to restore to her
harassed mind that tranquillity which is so pleasantly apparent
in the following pages.
In the frequent society of Colonel Digby Fanny seems to have
found an enjoyment peculiarly adapted to her reserved and
sensitive disposition. The colonel was almost equally retiring
and sensitive with herself, and his natural seriousness was
deepened by sorrow for the recent loss of his wife. A
similarity of tastes, as well as (in some respects) of
disposition, drew him continually to Fanny's tea-table, and the
gentleness of his manners, the refined and intellectual character
of his conversation, so unlike the Court gossip to which she was
usually condemned to remain a patient listener, caused her more
and more to welcome his visits and to regret his departure. "How
unexpected an indulgence," she writes, "a luxury, I may say, to
me, are these evenings now becoming!" The colonel reads to her-
-poetry, love-letters, even sermons, and while she listens to
such reading, and such a reader, her work goes on with an
alacrity that renders it all pleasure. The friendship which grew
up between them was evidently, at least on the part of Fanny, of
a more than ordinarily tender description. Whether, had
circumstances permitted, it might have ripened into a feeling yet
more tender, must remain a matter of speculation. Circumstances
did not permit, and in after years both married elsewhere.-ED.]
Page 155
THE ROYAL PARTY AND THEIR SUITE.
July.-Early in this month the king's indisposition occasioned
the plan of his going to Cheltenham, to try the effect of the
waters drank upon the spot. It was settled that the party should
be the smallest that was possible, as his majesty was to inhabit
the house of Lord Fauconberg, vacated for that purpose, which was
very small. He resolved upon only taking his equerry in waiting
and pages, etc. Lord Courtown, his treasurer of the household,
was already at Cheltenham, and therefore at hand to attend.
The queen agreed to carry her lady of the bedchamber in waiting,
with Miss Planta and F. B., and none others but wardrobe-women
for herself and the princesses.
Mr. Fairly was here almost all the month previously to our
departure. At first it was concluded he and Colonel Gwynn, the
equerry in waiting, were to belong wholly to the same table with
Miss Planta and me, and Mr. Fairly threatened repeatedly how well
we should all know one another, and how well he would study and
know us all au fond.
But before we set out the plan was all changed, for the king
determined to throw aside all state, and make the two gentlemen
dine at his own table. "We shall have, therefore," said Mr.
Fairly, with a very civil regret, "no tea-meetings at
Cheltenham."
This, however, was an opening- to me of time and leisure
such as I had never yet enjoyed.
Now, my dearest friends, I open an account which promises at
least all the charms of novelty, and which, if it fulfils its
promise, will make this month rather an episode than a
continuation of my prosaic performance. So now for yesterday,
Saturday, July 12.
We were all up at five o'clock; and the noise and confusion
reigning through the house, and resounding all around it, from
the quantities of people stirring, boxes nailing, horses
neighing, and dogs barking, was tremendous.
I must now tell you the party:--Their majesties; the princesses
Royal, Augusta, and Elizabeth; Lady Weymouth, Mr. Fairly,
Colonel Gwynn, Miss Planta, and a person you have sometimes met;
pages for king, queen, and princesses, ward-
Page 156
robe-women for ditto, and footmen for all. A smaller party for a
royal excursion cannot well be imagined. How we shall all manage
heaven knows. Miss Planta and myself are allowed no maid; the
house would not hold one.
The royal party set off first, to stop and breakfast at Lord
Harcourt's at Nuneham. You will easily believe Miss Planta and
myself were not much discomfited in having orders to proceed
straight forward. You know we have been at Nuneham!
Mrs. Sandys, the queen's wardrobe-woman, and Miss Macentomb, the
princesses', accompanied us. At Henley-on-Thames, at an inn
beautifully situated, we stopped to breakfast, and at Oxford to
take a sort of half dinner.
LOYALTY NOT DAMPED BY THE RAIN.
The crowd gathered together upon the road, waiting for the king
and queen to pass, was immense, and almost unbroken from Oxford
to Cheltenham. Every town and village within twenty miles seemed
to have been deserted, to supply all the pathways with groups of
anxious spectators. Yet, though so numerus, so quiet were they,
and so new to the practices of a hackneyed mob, that their
curiosity never induced them to venture within some yards of the
royal carriage, and their satisfaction never broke forth into
tumult and acclamation.
In truth, I believe they never were aware of the moment in which
their eagerness met its gratification. Their majesties travelled
wholly without guards or state; and I am convinced, from the time
we advanced beyond Oxford, they were taken only for their own
attendants.
All the towns through which we passed were filled with people, as
closely fastened one to another as they appear in the pit of the
playhouse. Every town seemed all face; and all the way upon the
road we rarely proceeded five miles without encountering a band
of most horrid fiddlers, scraping "God save the king" with all
their might, out of tune, out of time, and all in the rain; for,
most unfortunately, there were continual showers falling all the
day. This was really a subject for serious regret, such numbers
of men, women, and children being severely sufferers; yet
standing it all through with such patient loyalty, that I am
persuaded not even a hail or thunder storm would have dispersed
them.
The country, for the most part, that we traversed, was ex-
Page 157
tremely pretty; and, as we advanced nearer to our place Of
destination, it became quite beautiful.
ARRIVAL AT FAUCONBERG HALL.
When we arrived at Cheltenham, which is almost all one street,
extremely long, clean and well paved, we had to turn out of the
public way about a quarter of a mile, to proceed to Fauconberg
Hall, which my Lord Fauconberg has lent for the king's use during
his stay at this place.
it is, indeed, situated on a most sweet spot, surrounded with
lofty hills beautifully variegated, and bounded, for the
principal object, with the hills of Malvern, Which, here
barren, and there cultivated, here all chalk, and there all
verdure, reminded me of How hill, and gave Me an immediate
sensation of reflected as well as of visual pleasure, from giving
to my new habitation
some resemblance of NorbUry park.
When we had mounted the gradual ascent on which
the house stands,
the crowd all around it was as one head! We stopped within
twenty yards of the door, uncertain how to proceed. All the
royals were at the windows; and to pass this multitude--to wade
through it, rather,--was a most
disagreeable operation. However, we had no choice: we therefore
got out, and, leaving the wardrobe-women to find the way to the
back-door, Miss Planta and I glided on to the front one, where we
saw the two gentlemen and where, as soon as we got up the steps,
we encountered the king. He inquired
most graciously concerning our journey; and Lady Weymouth came
down-stairs to summon me to the queen, who was in excellent
spirits, and said she would show me her room.
"This, ma'am!" cried I, as I entered it--"is this little room for
your majesty?"
"O stay," cried she, laughing, "till you see your own before you
call it 'little'."
Soon after, she sent me upstairs for that purpose ; and then, to
be sure, I began to think less diminutively of that I had just
quitted.
Mine, with one window, has just space to crowd in a bed, a chest
of drawers, and three small chairs. The prospect
from the window, is extremely pretty, and all IS
new and clean. So I doubt not being very comfortable, as I am
senza Cerbera,(278)--though having no maid
is a real evil to
Page 158
one so little her own mistress as myself. I little wanted the
fagging of my own clothes and dressing, to add to my daily
fatigues.
I began a little unpacking and was called to dinner. Columb,
happily, is allowed me, and he will be very useful, I am sure.
Miss alone dined with me, and we are to be companions constant at
all meals, and t`ete-`a-t`ete, during this sejour. She is
friendly and well disposed, and I am perfectly content; and the
more, as I know she will not take up my leisure Unnecessarily,
for she finds sauntering in the open air very serviceable to her
health, and she has determined to make that her chief occupation.
Here, therefore, whenever I am not in attendance, or at meals, I
expect the singular comfort of having my time wholly unmolested,
and at my own disposal.
THE TEA-TABLE DIFFICULTY.
A little parlour, which formerly had belonged to Lord
Fauconberg's housekeeper, is now called mine, and here Miss
Planta and myself are to breakfast and dine. But for tea we
formed a new plan: as Mr. Fairly had himself told me he
understood there would be no tea-table at Cheltenham, I
determined to stand upon no ceremony with Colonel Gwynn, but
fairly and at once take and appropriate my afternoons to my own
inclinations. To prevent, therefore, any surprise or alteration,
we settled to have our tea upstairs.
But then a difficulty arose as to where ? We had each equally
small bed-rooms, and no dressing-room; but, at length, we fixed
on the passage, near a window looking over Malvern hills and much
beautiful country.
This being arranged, we went mutually on with our unpackings,
till we were both too thirsty to work longer. Having no maid to
send, and no bell to ring for my man, I then made out my way
downstairs, to give Columb directions for our teaequipage.
After two or three mistakes, of peering into royal rooms, I at
length got safe to my little parlour, but still was at a loss
where to find Columb; and while parading in and out, in hopes of
meeting with some assistant, I heard my name inquired for from
the front door. I looked out, and saw Mrs. Tracy, senior
bedchamber-woman to the queen. She is at Cheltenham for her
health, and came to pay her duty in inquiries, and so forth.
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I conducted her to my little store-room, for such it looks, from
its cupboards and short checked window curtains; and we chatted
upon the place and the expedition, till Columb came to tell me
that Mr. Fairly desired to speak with me. I waited upon him
immediately, in the passage leading to the kitchen stairs, for
that was my salle d'audience.
He was with Lord Courtown; they apologised for disturbing me, but
Mr. Fairly said he came to solicit leave that they might join my
tea-table for this night only, as they would give orders to be
supplied in their own apartments the next day, and not intrude
upon me any more, nor break into my time and retirement.
This is literally the first instance I have met, for now two
whole years, of being understood as to my own retiring
inclinations; and it is singular I should first meet with it from
the only person who makes them waver.
I begged them to come in, and ordered tea. They are well
acquainted with Mrs. Tracy, and I was very glad she happened to
stay.
Poor Miss Planta, meanwhile, I was forced to leave in the lurch;
for I could not propose the bed-room passage to my present
company, and she was undressed and unpacking.
Very soon the king, searching for his gentlemen, found out my
room, and entered. He admired It prodigiously, and inquired
concerning all our accommodations. He then gave Mr. Fairly a
commission to answer an address, or petition, or some such thing
to the master of the ceremonies, and, after half an hour's chat,
retired.
Colonel Gwynn found us out also, but was eager to find out more
company, and soon left us to go and look over the books at the
rooms, for the list of the company here.
A TETE-A-TETE WITH COLONEL FAIRLY.
After tea Mrs. Tracy went, and the king sent for Lord Courtown.
Mr. Fairly was going too, and I was preparing to return upstairs
to my toils; but he presently changed his design, and asked leave
to stay a little longer, if I was at leisure. At leisure I
certainly was not but I was most content to work double tides for
the pleasure of his company, especially where given thus
voluntarily, and not accepted officially.
Page 160
What creatures are we all for liberty and freedom! Rebels
partout!
"Soon as the life-blood warms the heart,
The love of liberty awakes!"
Ah, my dear friends! I wrote that with a sigh that might have
pierced through royal walls!
>From this circumstance we entered into discourse with no little
spirit. I felt flattered, and he knew he had given me de quoi:
so we were both in mighty good humour. Our sociability, however,
had very soon an interruption. The king re-entered ; he started
back at sight of our diminished party, and exclaimed, with a sort
of arch surprise, "What! only You two?"
Mr. Fairly laughed a little, and Ismiled ditto! But I had rather
his majesty had made such a comment on any other of his
establishment, if make it he must; since I am sure Mr. Fairly's
aversion to that species of raillery is equal to my Own.
The king gave some fresh orders about the letter, and instantly
went away. As soon as he was gone, Mr. Fairly,--perhaps to show
himself superior to that little sally,--asked me whether he might
write his letter in my room?
"O yes," cried I, with all the alacrity of the same superiority.
He then went in search of a page, for pen and ink, and told me,
on returning, that the king had just given orders for writing
implements for himself and Colonel Gwynn to be placed in the
dining-parlour, of which they were, henceforth, to have the use
as soon as the dinner-party had separated; and after to-night,
therefore, he should intrude himself upon me no
more. I had half a mind to say I was very sorry for it! I
assure you I felt so.
He pretended to require my assistance in his letter, and
consulted and read over all that he writ. So I gave my opinion
as he went on, though I think it really possible he might have
done without me!
Away then he went with it, to dispatch it by a royal footman; and
I thought him gone, and was again going myself, when he
returned,--surprising me not a little by saying. as he held the
door in his hand, "Will there be any--impropriety--in my staying
here a little logger?"
I must have said no, if I had thought yes; but it would not have
been so plump and ready a no! and I should not, with
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quite so courteous a grace, have added that his stay could do me
nothing but honour.
On, therefore, we sat, discoursing on various subjects, till the
twilight made him rise to take leave. He was in much better
spirits than I have yet seen him, and I know not when I have
spent an hour more socially to my taste. Highly cultivated by
books, and uncommonly fertile in stores of internal resource, he
left me nothing to wish, for the time I spent with him, but that
"the Fates, the Sisters Three, and suchlike branches of
learning," would interfere against the mode of future separation
planned for the remainder of our expedition. Need I more
strongly than this mark the very rare pleasure I received from
his conversation?
Not a little did poor Miss Planta marvel what had become of me;
and scarce less was her marvel when she had heard my adventures.
She had told me how gladly the gentlemen would seize the
opportunity of a new situation, to disengage themselves from the
joint tea-table, and we had mutually agreed to use all means
possible for seconding this partition; but I had been too well
satisfied this night, to make any further efforts about the
matter, and I therefore inwardly resolved to let the future take
care of itself--certain it could not be inimical to me, since
either it must give me Mr. Fairly in a party, or time for my own
disposal in solitude.
This pleasant beginning has given a spirit to all my expectations
and my fatigues in this place; and though it cost me near two
hours from my downy pillow to recover lost time, I stole them
without repining, and arose--dead asleep--this morning, without a
murmur.
THE KING's GENTLEMEN AND THE QUEEN's LADIES.
Sunday, July 13--I was obliged to rise before six o'clock, that I
might play the part of dresser to myself, before I played it to
the queen; so that did not much recruit the fatigues of
yesterday's rising and journey! Not a little was I surprised to
be told, this morning, by her majesty, that the gentlemen were to
breakfast with Miss Planta and me, every morning, by the king's
orders.
When I left the queen, I found them already in my little parlour.
Mr. Fairly came to the door to meet me, and hand me into the
room, telling me of the new arrangement of the king, with an air
of very civil satisfaction. Colonel Gwynn
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appeared precisely as I believe he felt,-perfectly indifferent to
the matter. Miss Planta joined us, and Columb was hurried to get
ready, lest the king should summon his esquires before they had
broken their fast. Mr. Fairly undertook to settle our seats, and
all the etiquette of the tea-table; and I was very well content,
for when he had placed me where he conceived I should be most
commodiously situated, he fixed upon the place next me for
himself, and desired we might all keep to our posts. It was next
agreed, that whoever came first to the room should order and make
the tea; for I must often be detained by my waiting, and the king
is so rapid in his meals, that whoever attends him must be rapid
also, or follow fasting. Mr. Fairly said he should
already have hastened Columb, had he not apprehended it might be
too great a liberty ; for they had waited near half an hour, and
expected a call every half minute. I set him perfectly at his
ease upon this subject, assuring him I should be very little at
mine if he had ever the same scruple again. He had been in
waiting, he said, himself, ever since a quarter after five
o'clock in the morning, at which time he showed himself under the
king's window, and walked before the house till six! I was
beginning to express my compassion for this harass, but he
interrupted me with shrewdly saying, "
"O, this will save future fatigue, for it will establish me such
a character for early rising and punctuality, that I may now do
as I will: 'tis amazing what privileges a man obtains for taking
liberties, when once his character is established for taking
none."
Neither Miss Planta nor myself could attempt going to church, we
had both so much actual business to do for ourselves, in
unpacking, and fitting up our rooms, etc. The rest of the day was
all fasting, till the evening, and then--who should enter my
little parlour, after all the speechifying Of only one night,"
made yesterday, but Mr. Fairly, Colonel Gwynn, and Lord Courtown!
Whether this, again, is by the king's command, or in consequence
of the morning arrangement, I know not: but not a word more has
dropped of "no evening tea-table;" so, whether we are to unite,
or to separate, in future, I know not, and, which is far more
extraordinary, I care not! Nobody but you could imagine what
a compliment that is, from me! I had made Miss Planta promise,
in case such a thing should happen, to come down; and she was
very ready, and
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we had a very cheerful evening. Great difficulties, however,
arose about our tea-equipage, So few things are brought, or at
least are yet arrived, that Columb is forced to be summoned every
other moment, and I have no bell, and dare not, for this short
time, beg for one, as my man herds with the King's men; besides,
I have no disposition to make a fuss here, where every body takes
up with every thing that they get.
In lamenting, however, the incessant trouble I was obliged to
give the gentlemen, of running after Columb, I told Mr. Fairly my
obligation, at Windsor, to Colonel Wellbred, for my bell there.
"O yes," cried he, laughing, "I am not surprised; Colonel
Wellbred is quite the man for a 'belle!'"
"Yes," cried I, "that he is indeed, and for a 'beau' too."
"O ho! you think him so, do you?" quoth he: to which my prompt
assent followed.
ROYALTY CROWDED AT FAUCONBERG HALL.
The royal family had all been upon the walks. I have agreed with
myself not to go thither till they have gone through the news-
mongers' drawing up of them and their troop. I had rather avoid
all mention and after a few days, I may walk there as if not
belonging to them, as I am not of place or rank to follow in
their train.
But let me give you, now, an account of the house and
accommodation.
On the ground-floor there is one large and very pleasant room,
which is made the dining-parlour. The king and royal family also
breakfast in it, by themselves, except the lady-in-waiting, Lady
Weymouth. They sup there also, in the same manner. The
gentlemen only dine with them, I find. They are to breakfast
with us, to drink tea where they will, and to sup--where they
can; and I rather fancy, from what I have yet seen, it will be
commonly with good Duke Humphrey.
A small, but very neat dressing-room for his majesty is on the
other side of the hall, and my little parlour is the third and
only other room on the ground-floor: so you will not think our
monarch, his consort and offspring, take up too much of the land
called their own !
Over this eating- parlour, on the first floor, is the queen's
drawing-room, in which she is also obliged to dress and to un-
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dress for she has no toilette apartment! Who, after that, can
repine at any inconvenience here for the household? Here, after
breakfast, she sits, with her daughters and her lady and Lady
Courtown, who, with her lord, is lodged in the town of
Cheltenham. And here they drink tea, and live till suppertime.
Over the king's dressing-room is his bed-room, and over my
store-room is the bed-room of the princess-royal. And here ends
the first floor.
The second is divided and sub-divided into bed-rooms, which are
thus occupied:--Princess Augusta and Princess Elizabeth sleep in
two beds, in the largest room. Lady Weymouth occupies that next
in size. Miss Planta and myself have two little rooms, built
over the king's bed-room and Mrs. Sandys and Miss Macentomb, and
Lady Weymouth's maid, have the rest.
This is the whole house! Not a man but the king sleeps In it.
A house is taken in the town for Mr. Fairly and Colonel Gwynn,
and there lodge several of the servants, and among them Columb.
The pages sleep in outhouses. Even the house-maids lodge in the
town, a quarter of a mile or more from the house!
Lord Courtown, as comptroller of the household, acts here for the
king, in distributing his royal bounty to the Wells, rooms,
library, and elsewhere. He has sent around very magnificently.
We are surrounded by pleasant meadows, in which I mean to walk a
great deal. They are so quiet and so safe, I can go quite alone;
and when I have not a first-rate companion, my second best is-
-none at all! But I expect, very soon, my poor Miss Port, and I
shall have her with me almost constantly.
AT THE WELLS.
Monday, July 14-This morning I was again up at five o'clock, Miss
Planta having asked me to accompany her to the wells. The queen
herself went this morning, at six o'clock, with his majesty. It
is distant about a quarter of a mile from Lord Fauconberg's. I
tasted the water, for once; I shall
spare myself any such future regale, for it is not prescribed to
me, and I think it very unpleasant.
This place and air seem very healthy; but the very early
Page 165
hours, and no maid! I almost doubt how this will do. The fatigue
is very great indeed.
We were too soon for the company, except the royals. We met them
all, and were spoken to most graciously by every one. We all
came back to breakfast much at the same time, and it was very
cheerful.
I spent all the rest of the day in hard fagging, at work and
business, and attendance; but the evening amply recompensed it
all. Lord Courtown, Mr. Fairly, Colonel Gwynn, and Miss Planta,
came to tea. My Lord and Colonel Gwynn retired after it, to go
to the rooms; Mr. Fairly said he Would wait to make his bow to
his majesty, and see if there were any commands for him.
CONVERSATION AND FLIRTATION WITH COLONEL FAIRLY.
And then we had another very long conversation, and if I did not
write in so much haste, my dear friends would like to read it.
Our subject to-night--his subject, rather--was, the necessity of
participation, to every species of happiness. "His" subject, you
may easily believe; for to him should I never have dared touch on
one so near and so tender to him. Fredy, however, could join
With him more feelingly--though he kept perfectly clear of all
that was personal, to which I Would not have led for a thousand
worlds. He seems born with the tenderest social affections; and,
though religiously resigned to his loss--which, I have been told,
the hopeless sufferings of Lady - rendered, at last, even a
release to be desired--he thinks life itself, single and
unshared, a mere melancholy burthen, and the wish to have done
with it appears the only wish he indulges.
I could not perceive this without the deepest commiseration, but
I did what was possible to conceal it; as it is much more easy,
both to the hearer and the speaker, to lead the discourse to
matters more lively, under an appearance of being ignorant of the
state of a sad heart, than with a betrayed consciousness.
We talked of books, and not a little I astonished him by the
discovery I was fain to make, of the number of authors I have
never yet read. Particularly he instanced Akenside, and quoted
from him some passages I have heard selected by Mr, Locke.
Page 166
Then we talked of the country, of landscapes, of walking, and
then, again, came back the favourite proposition,--participation!
That, he said, could make an interest in anything,--everything;
and O, how did I agree with him! There is sympathy enough,
heaven knows, in our opinions on this subject
But not in what followed. I am neither good nor yet miserable
enough to join with him in what he added, -that life, taken all
in all, was of so little worth and value, it could afford its
thinking possessor but one steady wish,--that its duration might
be short!
Alas! thought I, that a man so good should be so unhappy!
We then came back again to books, and he asked us if we had read
a little poem called the "Shipwreck"?(279) Neither of us had
even heard of it. He said it was somewhat too long, and somewhat
too technical, but that it contained many beautiful passages. He
had it with him, he said, and proposed sending Columb for it, to
his house, if we should like to read it. We thanked him, and off
marched Columb. It is in a very small duodecimo volume, and he
said he would leave it with me.
Soon after, Miss Planta said she would stroll round the house for
a little exercise. When she was gone, he took up the book, and
said, "Shall I read some passages to you? I most gladly assented,
and got my work,--of which I have no small store, believe me!--
morning caps, robins, etc., all to prepare from day to day;
which, with my three constant and long attendances, and other
official company ceremonies, is no small matter.
The passages he selected were really beautiful: they were chiefly
from an episode, of Palemon and Anna, excessively delicate, yet
tender in the extreme, and most touchingly melancholy.
One line he came to, that he read with an emotion extremely
affecting-- 'tis a sweet line--
"He felt the chastity of silent woe."
He stopped upon it, and sighed so deeply that his sadness quite
infected me.
Then he read various characters of the ship's company,
Page 167
which are given with much energy and discrimination. I could not
but admire every passage he chose, and I was sensible each of
them owed much obligation to his reading, which was full of
feeling and effect.
How unwillingly did I interrupt him, to go upstairs and wait my
night's summons! But the queen has no bell for me, except to my
bed-room.
He hastily took the hint, and rose to go. "Shall I leave the
poem," he cried, "or take it with me, in case there should be any
leisure to go on with it to-morrow?"
"Which you please," cried I, a little stupidly, for I did not, at
the moment, comprehend his meaning which, however, he immediately
explained by answering, "Let me take it, then;--let me make a
little interest in it to myself, by reading it with you."
And then he put it in his pocket, and went to his home in the
town, and up stairs went I to my little cell, not a little
internally simpering to see a trait so like what so often I have
done myself,--carrying off a favourite book, when I have begun it
with my Susanna, that we might finish it together, without
leaving her the temptation to peep beforehand,
MISS BURNEY MEETS AN OLD FRIEND.
Tuesday, July 15--While the royals were upon the walks, Miss
Planta and I strolled in the meadows, and who should I meet
there--but Mr. Seward! This was a great pleasure to me. I had
never seen him since the first day of my coming to St. jades's,
when he handed me into my father's coach, in my sacque and long
ruffles. You may think how much we had to talk over. He had a
gentleman with him, fortunately, who was acquainted with Miss
Planta's brother, so that we formed two parties, without
difficulty. All my aim was to inquire about Mrs. Piozzi,--I
must, at last, call her by her now real name!--and of her we
conversed incessantly. He told me Mr. Baretti's late attack upon
her, which I heard with great concern.(280) It seems he has
broken off all intercourse with her, and
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not from his own desire, but by her evident wish to drop him.
This is very surprising ; but many others of her former friends,
once highest in her favour, make the same complaint.
We strolled so long, talking over this ever- interesting subject,
that the royals were returned before us, and we found Mr. Fairly
waiting in my parlour. The rest soon joined. Mr. Seward had
expected to be invited; but it is impossible for me to invite any
body while at Cheltenham, as there is neither exit nor entrance
but by passing the king's rooms, and as I have no place but this
little common parlour in which I can sit, except my own room.
Neither could I see Mr. Seward anywhere else, as my dear friends
will easily imagine, when they recollect all that has passed, on
the subject of my visitors, with her majesty and with Mr. Smelt.
He told me he had strolled in those meadows every day, to watch
if I were of the party.
COLONEL FAIRLY AGAIN.
Mr. Fairly again out-stayed them all. Lord Courtown generally is
summoned to the royal party after tea, and Colonel Gwynn goes to
the town in quest of acquaintance and amusement. Mr. Fairly has
not spirit for such researches ; I question, indeed, if he ever
had taste for them.
When Miss Planta, went off for her exercise, he again proposed a
little reading, which again I thankfully accepted. He took out
the little poem, and read on the mournful tale of Anna, with a
sensibility that gave pathos to every word.
How unexpected an indulgence--a luxury, I may say, to me, are
these evenings now becoming! While I listen to such reading and
such a reader, all my work goes on with an alacrity that renders
it all pleasure to me. I have had no regale like this for many
and many a grievous long evening ! never since I left Norbury
park,-never since my dear Fredy there read Madame de S6vign6.
And how little could I expect, in a royal residence, a relief of
this sort! Indeed, I much question if there is one other person,
in the whole establishment, that, in an equal degree, could
afford it. Miss Planta, though extremely friendly, is almost
wholly absorbed in the cares of her royal duties, and the
solicitude
Page 169
of her ill-health : she takes little interest in anything else,
whether for conversation or action. We do together perfectly
well, for she is good, and sensible, and prudent, and ready for
any kind office: but the powers of giving pleasure are not widely
bestowed: we have no right to repine that they are wanting where
the character that misses them has intrinsic worth but, also, we
have no remedy against weariness, where that worth is united with
nothing attractive.
I was forced again, before ten o'clock, to interrupt his
interesting narrative, that I might go to my room. He now said
he would leave me the book to look over and finish at my leisure,
upon one condition, which he begged me to observe: this was, that
I would read with a pen or pencil In my hand, and mark the
passages that pleased me most as I went on. I readily promised
this.
He then gave it me, but desired I would keep it to myself,
frankly acknowledging that he did not wish to have it seen by any
other, at least not as belonging to him. There was nothing, he
said of which he had less ambition than a character for bookism
and pedantry, and he knew if it was spread that he was guilty of
carrying a book from one house to another, it would be a
circumstance sufficient for branding him with these epithets.
I could not possibly help laughing a little at this caution, but
again gave him my ready promise.
A VISIT TO MISS PALMER.
Wednesday, July 16.-This morning we had the usual breakfast, and
just as it was over I received a note from Miss Palmer, saying
she was uncertain whether or not I was at Cheltenham, by not
meeting me on the walks or at the play, but wrote to mention that
she was with Lady D'Oyley, and hoped, if I was one of the royal
suite, my friends might have some chance to see me here, though
wholly denied it in town. I sent for answer that I would call
upon her; and as no objection was made by her majesty, I went to
Sir John D'Oyley's as soon as the royal party rode out.
I found Miss Palmer quite thoroughly enraged. We had never met
since I left the paternal home, though I am always much indebted
to her warm zeal. Sir John and Lady D'Oyley are a mighty gentle
pair. Miss Palmer could make them no better present than a
little of her vivacity. Miss Elizabeth
Page 170
Johnson, her cousin, is of their party : She is pretty, soft, and
pleasing; but, unhappily, as deaf as her uncle, Sir Joshua which,
in a young female, is a real misfortune.
To quiet Miss Palmer as much as I was able, I agreed tonight that
I would join her on the walks. Accordingly, at the usual time I
set out with Miss Planta, whom I was to introduce to the
D'Oyleys. Just as we set out we perceived the king and his three
gentlemen, for Lord Courtown is a constant attendant every
evening. We were backing on as well as we Could, but his majesty
perceived us, and called to ask whither we were going. We met
Mr. Seward, who joined us.
There is nothing to describe in the walks : they are straight,
clay, and sided by common trees, without any rich foliage, or one
beautiful opening. The meadows, and all the country around, are
far preferable: yet here everybody meets. All the D'Oyley party
came, and Miss Planta slipped away.
The king and queen walked in the same state as on the Terrace at
Windsor, followed by the three princesses and their attendants.
Everybody stopped and stood up as they passed, or as they stopped
themselves to speak to any of the company.
In one of these stoppings, Lord Courtown backed a little from the
suite to talk with us, and he said he saw what benefit I reaped
from the waters! I told him I Supposed I might be the better for
the excursion, according to the definition of a water-drinking
person by Mr. Walpole, who says people go to those places well,
and then return cured! Mr. Fairly afterwards also joined us a
little while, and Miss Palmer said she longed to know him more,
there was something so fine in his countenance.
They invited me much to go home with them to tea, but I was
engaged. We left the walks soon after the royal family, and they
carried me near the house in Sir John D'Oyley's coach. I walked,
however, quietly in by myself; and in my little parlour I found
Mr. Fairly. The others were gone off to the play without tea,
and the moment it was over Miss Planta hurried to her own stroll.
"ORIGINAL LOVE LETTERS."
This whole evening I spent t`ete-`a-t`ete with Mr. Fairly. There
is something singular in the perfect trust he seems to have in my
discretion, for he speaks to me when we are alone with a
frankness unequalled and something very flattering in the
Page 171
apparent relief he seems to find in dedicating what time he has
to dispose of to my little parlour. In the long conference of
this evening I found him gifted with the justest way of thinking
and the most classical taste. I speak that word only as I may
presume 'to judge it by English literature.
"I have another little book," he said, "here, which I am sure you
would like, but it has a title so very silly that nobody reads or
names it: 'Original Love-Letters;(281)--from which you might
expect mere nonsense and romance, though, on the contrary, you
would find in them nothing but good sense, moral reflections, and
refined ideas, clothed in the most expressive and elegant
language."
How I longed to read a book that had such a character!--yet,
laughable and prudish as it may seem to you, I could not bring
myself to accept the half-offer, or make any other reply than to
exclaim against the injudiciousness of the title-page.
Yet, whatever were our subjects, books, life, or persons, all
concluded with the same melancholy burthen--speed to his
existence here, and welcome to that he is awaiting! I fear he has
been unfortunate from his first setting out.'
THE FOUNDER OF SUNDAY SCHOOLS CRITICIZED.
July 19.--The breakfast missed its best regale Mr. Fairly was
ill, and confined to his room all day.
The royal party went to Lord Bathurst's, at Cirencester, and the
queen commanded Miss Planta and me to take an airing to
Gloucester, and amuse ourselves as well as we could. Miss Planta
had a previous slight acquaintance with Mr. Raikes and to his
house, therefore, we drove.
Mr. Raikes(282) was the original founder of the Sunday-school, an
institution so admirable, so fraught, I hope, with future good
and mercy to generations yet unborn, that I saw almost with
reverence the man who had first suggested it. He lives at
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Gloucester with his wife and a large family. They all
received us with open arms. I was quite amazed, but soon
found some of the pages had been with them already, and announced
our design; and as we followed the pages, perhaps they concluded
we also were messengers, or avant-courieres, of what else might
be expected. Mr. Raikes is not a man that, without a previous
disposition towards approbation, I should greatly have admired.
He is somewhat too flourishing, somewhat too forward, somewhat
too voluble ; but he is worthy, benevolent, good-natured, and
good-hearted, and therefore the overflowing of successful spirits
and delighted vanity must meet with some allowance. His wife is a
quiet and unpretending woman: his daughters common sort of
country misses. They seem to live with great hospitality,
plenty, and good cheer. They gave us a grand breakfast, and then
did the honours of their city to us with great patriotism. They
carried us to their fine old cathedral, where we saw the tomb of
poor Edward II., and many more ancient. Several of the Saxon
princes were buried in the original cathedral, and their
monuments are preserved. Various of the ancient nobility, whose
names and families were extinct from the Wars of the Roses, have
here left their worldly honours and deposited their last remains.
It was all interesting to see, though I will not detail it,
for any "Gloucester guide" would beat me hollow at that work.
Next they carried us to the jail, to show in how small a space, I
suppose, human beings can live, as well as die or be dead. This
jail is admirably constructed for its proper purposes--
confinement and punishment. Every culprit is to have a separate
cell; every cell is clean, neat, and small, looking towards a
wide expanse of country, and, far more fitted to his speculation,
a wide expanse of the heavens. Air, cleanliness, and
health seem all considered, but no other indulgence. A
total seclusion of all commerce from accident, and an absolute
impossibility of all intercourse between themselves, must needs
render the captivity secure from all temptation to further guilt,
and all Stimulus to hardihood in past crimes, and makes the
solitude become so desperate that it not only seems to leave no
opening, for any comfort save in repentance, but to make that
almost unavoidable.
After this they carried us to the Infirmary, where I was yet more
pleased, for the sick and the destitute awaken an interest far
less painful than the wicked and contemned. We went
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entirely over the house, and then over the city, which has little
else to catch notice. The pin manufactory we did not see, as
they discouraged us by an account of its dirt.
Mr. Raikes is a very principal man in all these benevolent
institutions; and while I poured forth my satisfaction in them
very copiously and warmly, he hinted a question whether I could
name them to the queen. "Beyond doubt," I answered; "for these
were precisely the things which most interested her majesty's
humanity." The joy with which he heard this was nothing short of
rapture.
ON THE WALKS.
Sunday, July 20-Colonel Gwynn again brought but a bad account of
his companion, who was now under the care of the Cheltenham
apothecary, Mr. Clerke.
I had appointed in the evening to go on the walks with Miss
Palmer. I scarce ever passed so prodigious a crowd as was
assembled before the house when I went out. The people of the
whole county seemed gathered together to see their majesties; and
so quiet, so decent, so silent, that it was only by the eye they
could be discovered, though so immense a multitude. How unlike a
London mob!
The king, kindly to gratify their zealous and respectful
curiosity, came to his window, and seeing me go out, he called me
to speak to him, and give an account of my intentions. The
people, observing this graciousness, made way for me on every
side, so that I passed through them with as much facility as if
the meadows had been empty.
The D'Oyleys and Miss Johnson and Miss Palmer made the walking
party, and Mr. Seward joined us. Mr. Raikes and all his family
were come from Gloucester to see the royal family on the walks,
which were very much crowded, but with the same respectful
multitude, who never came forward, but gazed and admired at the
most humble distance,
Mr. Raikes introduced me to the Bishop of Gloucester, Dr.
Halifax, and afterwards, much more to my satisfaction, to the
Dean of Gloucester, Dr. Tucker, the famous author of "Cui
bono."(283) I was very glad to see him: he is past eighty, and
has a most shrewd and keen old face.
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I went afterwards to tea with the D'Oyleys and Miss Palmer, and
Mr. Seward again accompanied us. Miss Palmer brought me home in
Sir John's carriage, making it drive as near as possible to the
house.
But just before we quitted the walks I was run after by a quick
female step :--"Miss Burney, don't you know me? have you forgot
Spotty?"--and I saw Miss Ogle. She told me she had longed to
come and see me, but did not know if she might. She is here with
her mother and two younger sisters. I promised to wait on them.
Mrs. Oake was daughter to the late Bishop of Winchester, who was
a preceptor of the king's: I knew, therefore, I might promise
with approbation.
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.
Monday, July 21.-I was very much disappointed this morning to see
Colonel Gwynn come again alone to breakfast, and to hear from him
that his poor colleague was still confined.
The royal party all went at ten o'clock to Tewkesbury. About
noon, while I was writing a folio letter to my dear father, of
our proceedings, Mr. Alberts, the queen's page, came into my
little parlour, and said "If you are at leisure, ma'am, Mr.
Fairly begs leave to ask you how you do."
I was all amazement, for I had concluded his confinement
irremediable for the present. I was quite happy to receive him;
he looked very ill, and his face is still violently swelled. He
had a handkerchief held to it, and was muffled up in a great
coat; and indeed he seemed unfit enough for coming out.
He apologised for interrupting me. I assured him I should have
ample time for my letter.
"What a letter!" cried he, looking at its size, "it is just such
a one as I should like to receive, and not--"
"Read," cried I.
"No, no !--and not answer!"
He then sat down, and I saw by his manner he came with design to
make a sociable visit to me. He was serious almost to sadness,
but with a gentleness that could not but raise in whomsoever he
had addressed an implicit sympathy. He led almost immediately to
those subjects on which he loves to
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dwell--Death and Immortality, and the assured misery of all
stations and all seasons in this vain and restless world.
I ventured not to contradict him with my happier sentiments, lest
I should awaken some fresh pain. I heard him, therefore, in
quiet and meditative silence, or made but such general answers as
could hazard no allusions. Yet, should I ever see him in better
spirits, I shall not |
