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Title: The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay — Volume 2
Author: Burney, Fanny
Language: English
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Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay — Volume 2" ***

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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

Page 32

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
Page 34

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
Page 57

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

Page 60

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.
Page 62

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

Page 63


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

Page 64

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."
Page 65

"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

Page 66

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

Page 67

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

Page 68

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

Page 69

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.

Page 70

"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.

Page 71

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

Page 97
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

Page 109

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

Page 121

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,

Page 122

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

Page 123

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

Page 124

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

Page 125

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

Page 126

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,

Page 127

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
Page 129

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.

Page 131

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

Page 132

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

Page 134

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,

Page 136

"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.

Page 159

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

Page 161

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

Page 162

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

Page 163

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-


Page 164

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

Page 168

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

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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


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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.

Page 174

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

Page 175

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 scruple to discuss, in such a way as I can,
this point, and to vindicate as well as I am able my opposite
opinion.

He told me he had heard a fifth week was to be now added to this
excursion, and he confessed a most anxious solicitude to be gone
before that time.  He dropped something, unexplained, yet very
striking, of a peculiar wish to be away ere some approaching
period.

I felt his meaning, though I had no key to it; I felt that he
coveted to spend in quiet the anniversary of the day on which he
lost his lady.  You may believe I could say nothing to it; the
idea was too tender for discussion; nor can I divine whether or
not he wishes to open more on this subject, or is better pleased
by my constant silence to his own allusions.  I know not, indeed,
whether he thinks I even understand them.


                          COURTS AND COURT LIFE.

We then talked over Cheltenham and our way of life, and then ran
into discourse upon Courts and Court life in general.  I frankly
said I liked them not, and that, if I had the direction of any
young person's destination, I would never risk them into such a
mode of living; for, though Vices may be as well avoided there as
anywhere 'and in this Court particularly, there were mischiefs of
a smaller kind, extremely pernicious to all nobleness of
character, to which this Court, with all its really bright
examples, was as liable as any other,--the mischiefs of jealousy,
narrowness, and selfishness.

He did not see, he said, when there was a place of settled income
and appropriated business why it might not be filled both with
integrity and content in a Court as well as elsewhere.  Ambition,
the desire of rising, those, he said, were the motives that envy
which set such little passions in motion.  One situation,
however, there was, he said, which he looked upon as truly
dangerous, and as almost certain to pervert the fairest
disposition- it was one in which he would not place any person
for whom he had the smallest regard, as he looked upon it to

Page 176

be the greatest hazard a character could run.  This was, being
maid of honour.


                          THE VINDICTIVE BARETTI.

Tuesday, July 22-To-day, at noon, I had a surprise with which I
was very well pleased.  His majesty opened the door of my little
parlour, called out, "Come, Come in -," and was followed by Major
Price.  He was just arrived from his little farm in
Herefordshire, and will stay here some days.  It is particularly
fortunate just now, when another gentleman was really required to
assist in attendance upon the royal party.

Mr. Seward, with a good-humoured note, sent me the magazine with
Baretti's strictures on Mrs.  Thrale.  Good heaven, how abusive!
It can hardly hurt her--it is so palpably meant to do it.  I
could not have suspected him, with all his violence, of a
bitterness of invective so cruel, so ferocious!

I well remember his saying to me, when first I saw him after the
discovery of "Evelina"......  I see what it is you can do, you
little witch--it is, that you can hang us all up for laughing-
stocks; but hear me this one thing--don't meddle with me.  I see
what they are, your powers; but remember, when you provoke an
Italian you run a dagger into your own breast!"

I half shuddered at the fearful caution from him, because the
dagger was a word of unfortunate recollection:(284) but, good
heaven! it could only be a half Shudder when the caution was
against an offence I could sooner die than commit, and which, I
may truly say, if personal attack was what he meant, never even
in sport entered my mind, and was ever, in earnest, a thing I
have held in the deepest abhorrence.

I must do, however, the justice to his candour to add, that upon
a newer acquaintance with me, which immediately followed, he
never repeated his admonition; and when "Cecilia" came out, and
he hastened to me with every species of extravagant encomium, he
never hinted at any similar idea, and it seemed evident he
concluded me, by that time, incapable

Page 177

meriting such a suspicion; though, to judge by his own conduct, a
proceeding of this sort may to him appear in a very different
light.  He thinks, at least, a spirit of revenge may authorize
any attack, any insult.  How unhappy and how strange! to join to
so much real good nature as this man possesses when pleased, a
disposition so savagely vindictive when offended.


              SPECULATIONS UPON COLONEL FAIRLY'S RE-MARRYING.
Thursday, July 24--"Pray, Miss Burney," cried Colonel Gwynn, "do
you think Mr. Fairly will ever marry again?"

"I think it very doubtful," I answered, "but I hope he will, for,
whether he is happy or not in marrying, I am sure he will be
wretched in singleness; the whole turn of his mind is so social
and domestic.  He is by no means formed for going always abroad
for the relief of society; he requires it more at hand."

"And what do you think of Miss Fuzilier?"

"That he is wholly disengaged with her and with everybody."

"Well, I think it will be, for I know they correspond ; and what
should he correspond with her for else?"

"Because, I suppose, he has done it long before this could be
suggested as the motive.  And, indeed, the very quickness of the
report makes me discredit it; 'tis so utterly impossible for a
man whose feelings are so delicate to have taken any steps
towards a second connexion at so early a period."

"Why, I know he's very romantic,--but I should like to know your
opinion."

"I have given it you," cried I, "very exactly."


                  COLONEL FAIRLY AGAIN PRESENTS HIMSELF.

Not long after, when all the party was broke up from my little
parlour, though not yet set out for Gloucester, who should again
surprise me by entering but Mr. Fairly! I was quite rejoiced by
his sight.  He was better, though not well.  His face is almost
reduced to its natural size.  He had a letter for her majesty
from Lord Aylesbury, and had determined to venture bringing it
himself.

He said he would carry it in to the queen, and then return to my
parlour, if I would give him some breakfast.

You may suppose I answered "No!"  But, afterwards, fearing he
might

Page 178

be detained and fatigued, he asked me to present it for him, and
only say he was waiting in my room for commands.  I was forced to
say "Yes," though I had rather not.

Her majesty was much surprised to hear he was again out so
unexpectedly, and asked if he thought of going to Gloucester?

"No," I said, "I believed he was not equal to that."

She bid me tell him she would see him before she went.

I returned with this message, and would then have ordered him
fresh breakfast; but he declared if I was fidgety he should have
no comfort, and insisted on my sitting quietly down, while he
drew a chair by my side, and made his own cold tea, and drank it
weak and vapid, and eat up all the miserable scraps, without
suffering me to call for plate, knife, bread, butter, or anything
for replenishment.  And when he had done, and I would have made
some apology, he affected me for him a good deal by gravely
saying, "Believe me, this is the pleasantest breakfast I have
made these six days."

He then went on speaking of his late confinement, and its
comfortless circumstances, in very strong terms, dwelling on its
solitude and its uselessness, as if those only formed its
disagreeability, and the pain went for nothing.  Social and kind
is his heart, and finely touched to the most exquisite sensations
of sympathy; and, as I told Colonel Gwynn, I must needs wish he
may yet find some second gentle partner fitted to alleviate his
sorrows, by giving to him an object whose happiness would become
his first study.

He brought me back the few books I had procured him but I had no
fresh supply.  He spoke again of the favourite "Letters," and
said he felt so sure I should be pleased with them, that he was
desirous I should look at them, adding There is no person into
whose hands I would not put them not even my daughter's."

It was now impossible to avoid saying I should be glad to see
them: it would seem else to doubt either his taste or his
delicacy, while I have the highest opinion of both.  In talking
them over he told me he believed them to be genuine; "But the
woman," he said, "throughout the whole correspondence, is too
much the superior.  She leaves the man far behind.  She is so
collected, so composed, so constantly mistress of herself, so
unbiased by her passions, so rational, and so dignified, that I
would even recommend her as an example to any young woman in
similar circumstances to follow."

Page 179
He was summoned to her majesty, in the dining-parlour.  But when
they were all set out on the Gloucester expedition, he returned
to my little parlour, and stayed with me a considerable time.

Grave he came back--grave quite to solemnity, and almost wholly
immersed in deep and sad reflections, He spoke little, and that
little with a voice so melancholy, yet so gentle, that it filled
me with commiseration.

At length, after much silence and many pauses, which I never
attempted to interrupt or to dissipate, continuing my work as if
not heeding him, he led himself distantly, yet intelligibly--to
open upon the immediate state of his mind.

I now found that the king's staying on at Cheltenham a fifth week
was scarcely supportable to him; that the 16th of next month was
the mournful anniversary of his loss, and that he had planned to
dedicate it in some peculiar manner to her memory, with his four
children.  Nothing of this was positively said; for

"He feels the chastity of silent woe."

But all of it was indubitably comprised in the various short but
pointed sentences which fell from him.


THE COLONEL AND THE "ORIGINAL LOVE LETTERS."

Friday, July 25.-Again, to a very late breakfast came Mr. Fairly,
which again he made for himself, when the rest were dispersed, of
all the odd remnants, eatable and drinkable.  He was much better,
and less melancholy.  He said he should be well enough to join
the royal party to-morrow, who were to dine and spend the whole
day at Lord Coventry's at Coombe. . . .

In the afternoon, while Miss Planta and myself were Sitting over
our dessert, a gentle rap at the parlour-door preceded Mr.
Fairly.  How we both started! He was muffled up in a great coat,
and said he came quite incog., as he was not well enough to dine
anywhere but in his private apartment, nor to attend the royals
to the walks, whither they go every evening.  He had only
strolled out for a walk by himself.

I could not persuade him to sit down; he said he must be gone
immediately, lest he should be seen, and the king, not aware of
his unfitness, should order his attendance.

Miss Planta, presently, was obliged to go to the princesses,

Page 180

and wait with them till the promenade took place.  Quietly, then,
he drew a chair to the table, and I saw he had something to say;
but, after a little general talk he rose and was going : when,
hearing by the dogs the royal family were just in motion, he
pulled off his great coat and seated himself again.

And then, he took from his pocket a small volume, which he said
he had taken this opportunity to bring me.  You Will be sure it
was the "Original Letters.;"

I took them, and thanked him: he charged me with a very grave air
to keep them safe, and I put them into my work-box--my dear
Fredy's work-box--which here is my universal repository of small
goods and chattels, and useful past all thanks.

By the time they Were set off, however, we were entered into
conversation, and he said he would venture to stay tea; "though,
as I tell you," he added, "what I do not tell everybody, I must
confess I have upon me some certain symptoms that make me a
little suspect these Cheltenham waters are going to bring me to a
fit of the gout."

And then he told me that that dreadful disorder had been
frequently and dangerously in his family, though he had himself
never had it but once, which was after a very bad fall from his
horse when hunting with the king.

Miss Planta now joined us, looking not a little surprised to find
Mr. Fairly still here, and I ordered tea.  After it was over, she
went to take her usual evening exercise; and then Mr. Fairly,
pointing to my work-box, said, "Shall I read a little to you?"

Certainly, I said, if it would not too much fatigue him; and
then, with the greatest pleasure in renewing again a mode in
which I had taken so much delight, I got my work and gave him his
book.  Unluckily, however, it was the second volume; the first,
having read, he had left in town.  "It is quite, however," he
said, "immaterial whether You begin with the first volume or the
second; the story is nothing; the language and the sentiments are
all you can care for."

I did not quite agree in this, but would not say so, lest he
should think of me as Colonel Gwynn does of him, "that I am very
romantic which, however, I am not, though I never like to
anticipate an end ere I know a beginning.

Indeed, he had not praised them too highly, nor raised my
expectations beyond what could answer them, They are full

Page 181

of beauties-moral, elegant, feeling, and rational.  He seemed
most unusually gratified by seeing me so much pleased with them.
I am so glad," he cried, "You like them, for I thought you
would!"  But we began so late that he could only, get through two
letters, when the time of my retiring arrived.  I was sorry also
to have him out so late after his long confinement; but he
wrapped himself up in his great coat, and did not seem to think
he should suffer from it.

Miss Planta came to my room upstairs, to Inquire how long Mr.
Fairly had stayed, and I was quite happy to appease her
astonishment that he should come without sending in to the king,
by assuring her he was only nursing for the next day, when he
meant to attend the Coombe party.

I thought it so absolutely right to mention his visit to the
queen, lest, hearing of it from the princesses through Miss
Planta, she Should wonder yet more, that I put aside the
disagreeable feel of exciting that wonder myself, and told her he
had drank tea here, when I attended her at night.  She seemed
much more surprised than pleased, till I added that he was
preparing and hardening himself for the Coombe expedition the
next day, and then she was quite satisfied.(285)


                   THE GOUT AND THE LOVE LETTERS, AGAIN.

Saturday, July 26.-The royal party were to be Out the whole day,
and I had her majesty's permission to go to the play at night
with Miss Port and her friends, and to introduce MISS Planta to
them for the same purpose.  The breakfast was at seven o'clock ;
we were all up at half after five.  How sorry was I to see
Colonel Gwynn enter alone, and to hear that Mr. Fairly was again
ill

Soon after the king came into the room and said, "So, no Mr.
Fairly again?"

"No, sir; he's very bad this morning."

"What's the matter? His face?"

"No, sir; he has got the gout.  These waters., he thinks, have
brought it on."

"What, in his foot?"

"Yes, sir; he is quite lame, his foot is swelled prodigiously."

Page 182

"So he's quite knocked up! Can't he come out?"

"No, sir; he's obliged to order a gouty shoe and stay at home and
nurse."

The king declared the Cheltenham waters were admirable friends to
the constitution, by bringing disorders out of the habit.  Mr.
Fairly, he said, had not been well some time, and a smart fit of
the gout might set him all to rights again.  Alas,
thought I, a smart fit of the gout in a lonely lodging at a
water-drinking place!

They all presently set off; and so fatigued was my poor little
frame, I was glad to go and lie down; but I never can sleep when
I try for it in the daytime; the moment I cease all employment,
my thoughts take such an ascendance over my morphetic faculty,
that the attempt always ends in a deep and most Wakeful
meditation.

About twelve o'clock I was reading In my private loan book, when,
hearing the step of Miss Planta on the stairs, I put it back in
my work-box, and Was just taking thence some other employment,
when her voice struck my ear almost in a scream "Is it possible?
Mr. Fairly!"

My own with difficulty refrained echoing it when I heard his
voice answer her, and in a few minutes they parted, and he rapped
at the door and entered my little parlour.  He came in hobbling,
leaning on a stick, and with a large cloth shoe over one of his
feet, which was double the size of the other.

We sat down together, and he soon inquired what I had done with
his little book.  I had only, I answered, read two more letters.

"Have you read two?" he cried, in a voice rather disappointed;
and I found he was actually come to devote the morning, which he
knew to be unappropriated on my part, to reading it on to me
himself.  Then he took up the book and read on from the fifth
letter.  But he read at first with evident uneasiness, throwing
down the book at every noise, and stopping to listen at every
sound.  At last he asked me if anybody was likely to come?

Not a soul, I said, that I knew or expected.

He laughed a little at his question and apparent anxiety but with
an openness that singularly marks his character, he frankly
added, I must put the book away, pure as it is, if any one comes
or, without knowing a word of the contents, they will run away
with the title alone, exclaiming, 'Mr. Fairly

Page 183

reading love letters to Miss Burney!'  A fine story that would
make!"

'Pon honour, thought I, I would not hear such a tale for the
world.  However, he now pursued his reading more at his ease.

I will not tell you what we said of them in talking them over.
Our praise I have chiefly given--our criticism must wait till you
have read them yourselves.  They are well worth your seeking.  I
am greatly mistaken if you do not read them with delight.

in the course of the discussion he glided, I know not how, upon
the writings of another person, saying he never yet had talked
them over with me.

"It is much kinder not," cried I hastily. . . .

"Well, but," cried he laughing, "may I find a fault?  Will you
hear a criticism, if nothing of another sort?" I was forced to
accede to this.

He told me, then, there was one thing he wholly disallowed and
wished to dispute, which was, Cecilia's refusing to be married on
account of the anonymous prohibition to the ceremony.  He could
not, he said, think such an implied distrust of Delvile, after
consenting to be his, was fair or generous.

"To that," cried I, "I cannot judge what a man may think, but I
will own it is what most precisely and indubitably I could not
have resisted doing myself.  An interruption so mysterious and so
shocking I could never have had the courage to pass over."

This answer rather silenced him from politeness than convinced
him from reason, for I found he thought the woman who had given
her promise was already married, and ought to run every risk
rather than show the smallest want of confidence in the man of
her choice.

Columb now soon came in to inquire what time I should dine, but a
ghost could not have made him stare more than Mr. Fairly, whose
confinement with the gout had been spread all over the house by
Colonel Gwynn.

I ordered an early dinner on account of the play."

"Will you invite me," cried Mr. Fairly, laughing, "to dine with
you?"

"Oh yes!" I cried, "with the greatest pleasure." and he said he
would go to his home and dress, and return to my hour.

Page 184


               A DINNER WITH COLONEL FAIRLY AND MISS PLANTA,
As he was at leisure, I had bespoke the queen's hairdresser, on
account of the play; but Miss Planta came to inform me that she
could not be of that party, as she had received a letter from
Lady Charlotte Finch, concerning Princess Mary, that she must
stay to deliver herself.

I told her she would have a beau at dinner.  "Well," she
exclaimed, "'tis the oddest thing in the world He should come so
when the king and queen are away!  I am sure, if I was you, I
would not mention it."

"Oh yes, I shall," cried I; "I receive no visitors in private;
and I am sure if I did, Mr. Fairly is the last who would
condescend to make one of them."  Such was my proud, but true
speech, for him and for myself.

At dinner we all three met; Mr. Fairly in much better spirits
than I have yet seen him at Cheltenham.  He attacks Miss Planta
upon all her little prejudices, and rallies her into a defence of
them, in a manner so sportive 'tis impossible to hurt her, yet so
nearly sarcastic that she is frequently perplexed whether to take
it in good or ill part.  But his intentions are so decidedly
averse to giving pain, that even when she is most alarmed at
finding the laugh raised against her, some suddenly good-humoured
or obliging turn sets all to rights, and secures any sting from
remaining, even where the bee has been most menacing to fix
itself.

I believe Mr. Fairly to possess from nature high animal spirits,
though now curbed by misfortune - and a fine vein of satire,
though constantly kept in order by genuine benevolence.  He is
still, in mixed company, gay, shrewd, and arch ; foremost in
badinage, and readiest for whatever may promote general
entertainment.  But in chosen society his spirits do not rise
above cheerfulness; he delights in moral discourse, on grave and
instructive subjects, and though always ready to be led to the
politics or business of the day, in which he is constantly well
versed and informing I never observe him to lead but to themes of
religion, literature, or moral life.

When dinner and a very sociable dessert were over, we proposed
going to the king's dining-parlour, while the servants removed
the things, etc., against tea.  But the weather was so very fine
we were tempted by the open door to go out into the air.  Miss
Planta said she would take a walk; Mr. Fairly could not, but all
without was so beautiful he would not go into the

Page 185

parlour, and rather risked the fatigue of standing, as he leant
against the porch, to losing the lovely prospect of sweet air.

And here, for near two hours, on the steps of Fauconberg Hall, we
remained; and they were two hours of such pure serenity, without
and within, as I think, except in Norbury park, with its loved
inhabitants and my Susan, I scarce ever remember to have spent.
Higher gaiety and greater happiness many and many periods of my
life have at different times afforded me; but a tranquillity more
perfect has only, I think, been lent to me in Norbury park,
where, added to all else that could soothe and attract, every
affection of my heart could be expanded and indulged.  But what
have I to do with a comparison no longer cherished but by memory

The time I have mentioned being past, Miss Planta returned from
her walk, and we adjourned to the little parlour, where I made
tea, and then I equipped myself for the play.

The sweet Miss Port received me with her usual kind joy, and
introduced me to her friends, who are Mr. Delabere, the master of
the house, and chief magistrate of Cheltenham, and his family.

We all proceeded to the play-house, which is a very pretty little
theatre.  Mrs. Jordan played the "Country Girl," most admirably;
but the play is so disagreeable in Its whole plot and tendency,
that all the merit of her performance was insufficient to ward
off disgust.(286) My principal end, however, was wholly answered,
in spending the evening with my poor M-----. . . .

Lady Harcourt is come to take the place of Lady Weymouth, whose
waiting is over; and Lord Harcourt will lodge in the town of
Cheltenham.  We have no room here for double accommodations.


                   ROYAL CONCERN FOR THE COLONEL's GOUT.

Sunday, July 27.-This morning in my first attendance I seized a
moment to tell her majesty of yesterday's dinner.

Page 186

"So I hear!" she cried; and I was sorry any one had anticipated
my information, nor can I imagine who it might be.

"But pray, ma'am," very gravely, how did it happen ? I understood
Mr. Fairly was confined by the gout."

"He grew better, ma'am, and hoped by exercise to prevent a
serious fit."

She said no more, but did not seem pleased.  The fatigues of a
Court attendance are so little comprehended, that persons known
to be able to quit their room and their bed are Instantly
concluded to be qualified for all the duties of their office.

We were again very early, as their majesties meant to go to the
cathedral at Gloucester, where the Bishop of Gloucester, Dr.
Halifax, was to Preach to them.  But I -was particularly glad,
before our breakfast, was over, to see Mr. Fairly enter my little
parlour.  He was Still In his gouty Shoe, and assisted by a
stick, but he had not suffered from his yesterday's exertion.

Before the things were removed, a page opened the door, and all
the royal family--king, queen, and three princesses--came into
the room to see Mr. Fairly and Inquire how he did.  I hardly know
with which of the five he is most in favour, or by which most
respected, and they all expressed their concern for this second
attack, in the kindest terms.

The king, however, who has a flow of spirits at this time quite
unequalled, would fain have turned the whole into ridicule, and
have persuaded him he was only fanciful.

"Fanciful, Sir?" he repeated, a little displeased; and the good
king perceiving it, graciously and good-humouredly drew back his
words, by saying "Why I should wonder indeed if you were to be
that!"

When they all decamped I prepared for church.  I had appointed to
go with Miss Port, and to meet her on the road.  Mr. Fairly said,
if I would give him leave, he would stay and write letters in my
little parlour.  I supplied him with materials, and emptied my
queen's writing-box for a desk, as we possess nothing here but a
low dining-table.  So away went journals, letters, memorandums,
etc., into the red portfolio given me by my dear father.

page 187

As soon as I presented him with this, not at all aware of the
goods and chattels removed for the occasion, he said it was so
very comfortable he should now write all his letters here, for at
his lodgings he had such a miserable low table he had been forced
to prop it up by brick-bats!

Mr. Fairly sealed and made up his dispatches, and then said he
would stroll a little out to put his foot in motion.  "And what,"
he asked, "shall you do?"

I had a great mind to say, Why, stroll with you; for that, I
think, was the meaning OF his question; but I feared it might
prevent my being dressed against the return Of the queen, and I
do not think she would have thought it an adequate excuse.


                       YOUNG REPUBLICANS CONVERTED.


Monday, July 28.--Miss Ogle acquainted me that this was the last
day of her remaining at Cheltenham, and I promised to drink tea
with her in the afternoon; and the queen honoured me with a
commission to bring Mrs. Ogle on the walks, as his majesty wished
again to see her. . . .

I found Mrs. Ogle and her daughters all civility and good humour.
 Poor Mrs. Ogle has lately (by what means I do not know) wholly
lost her eye-sight; but she is perfectly resigned to this
calamity, and from motives just such as suit a bishop's daughter.
 When I told her who desired her to be on the walks, she was
extremely gratified.  Spotty is a complete rebel, according to
the principles of her republican father, and protested it would
only be a folly and fuss to go, for their notice.  The younger
sisters are bred rebels too; but the thought of guiding their
mother, when such royal distinction was intended her, flattered
and fluctuated them.  There was another lady with them, who told
me that Dr. Warton, of Winchester, had desired her to make
acquaintance with me; but I have forgotten her name, and have no
time to refresh my memory with it.

To the walks we went, the good and pious Mrs. Ogle between her
two young daughters, and Spotty and I together.  Spotty begged me
to go to the ball with her, but I had neither licence nor
inclination.

The queen immediately espied Mrs. Ogle, by seeing me, as I heard
her say to the king; and they approached the spot where we stood,
in the most gracious manner.  The king spoke with such kindness
to Mrs. Ogle, and with such great regard

Page 188

of her late father, that the good lady was most deeply affected
with pleasure.  I believe they stayed half an hour with her,
talking over old scenes and circumstances.  Spotty kept pulling
me all the time, to decamp; but I kept "invincible,"--not quite
like Mr. Pitt, yet "invincible."  At last the king spoke
to her: this confused her so much, between the pleasure of the
notice, and the shame of feeling that pleasure, that she knew not
what she either did or said, answered everything wrong, and got
out of the line, and stood with her back to the queen, and turned
about she knew not why, and behaved like one who had lost her
wits.

When they left us, Mrs. Ogle expressed her grateful sense of the
honour done her, almost with tears ; the two young ones said,
they had never conceived the king and queen could be such sweet
people and poor Spotty was so affected and so constrained in
denying them praise, and persisting that she thought it "all a
bore," that I saw the republican heart was gone, though the
tongue held its ground.

A second time, after a few more turns, the same gracious party
approached, with fresh recollections and fresh questions
concerning interesting family matters.  This was more than could
be withstood; Mrs. Ogle was almost overpowered by their
condescension; the young ones protested they should never bear to
hear anything but praise of them all their lives to come and poor
Spotty was quite dumb! She could not, for shame, join the chorus
of praise, and to resist it she had no longer any power.

We did not, however, stop here; for still a third time they
advanced, and another conference ensued, in which Mrs. Ogle's
sons were inquired for, and their way of life, and designs and
characters.  This ended and completed the whole; Mrs. Ogle no
longer restrained the tears of pleasure from flowing; her little
daughters declared, aloud, the king and queen were the two most
sweet persons in the whole world, and they would say so as long
as they lived; and poor Spotty, colouring and conscious, said--
"But I hope I did not behave so bad this time as the first?" Nay,
so wholly was she conquered, that, losing her stubbornness more
and more by reflection, she would not let me take leave till she
obliged me to promise I would either call the next morning,
before their departure, or write her a little note, to say if
they found out or mentioned her ungraciousness.

I was too well pleased in the convert to refuse her this satis-

page 189

action; and so full was her mind of her new loyalty, that when
she found me steady in declining to go with her to the ball, she
gave it up herself, and said she would go home with her mother
and sisters, to talk matters over.



                       THE PRINCES' ANIMAL SPIRITS.

July 31.---Miss Planta said the Duke of York was expected the
next day.  This led to much discourse on the princes, in which
Mr. Fairly, with his usual but Most uncommon openness, protested
there was something in the violence of their animal spirits that
Would make him accept no post and no pay to live with them.
Their very voices, he said, had a loudness and force that wore
him.

Immediately after he made a little attack--a gentle one, Indeed--
upon me, for the contrary extreme, of hardly speaking, among
strangers at least, so as to be heard.  "And why," cried he, "do
you speak so low? I used formerly not to catch above a word in a
sentence from you."  In talking about the princes, he asked me
how I managed with them.

Not at all, I said, for since I had resided under the royal roof
they were rarely there, and I had merely seen them two or three
times.

He congratulated me that I had not been in the family in earlier
days, when they all lived together; and Miss Planta enumerated
various of their riots, and the distresses and difficulties they
caused in the household.

I was very glad, I said, to be out of the way, though I did not
doubt but I might have kept clear of them had I been even then a
resident.

"O no, no," cried Mr. Fairly; "they would have come to you, I
promise you; and what could you have done--what would have become
of you?--with Prince William in particular? Do you not think,
Miss Planta, the Prince of Wales and Prince William would have
been quite enough for Miss Burney? Why she would have been quite
subdued."

I assured him I had not a fear but I might always have avoided
them.

"Impossible! They would have come to your tea-room."

"I would have given up tea."

"Then they would have followed you--called for you--sent for
you--the Prince of Wales would have called about him, 'Here !
where's Miss Burney?"'

Page 190

"O, no, no, no!" cried I; "I would have kept wholly out of the
way, and then they would never have thought about me."
"O, ho!" cried he, laughing, "never think of seeing Miss Burney
 Prince William, too! what say you to that, Miss Planta?

She agreed there was no probability of such escape.  I was only
the more glad to have arrived in later times.

Here a page came to call Mr. Fairly to backgammon with his
majesty.


               THE DUKE OF YORK: ROYAL VISIT TO THE THEATRE.
Friday, Aug. 1.-This was a very busy day; the Duke of York was
expected, and his fond father had caused a portable wooden house
to be moved from the further end of Cheltenham town up to join to
Fauconber, Hall.  The task had employed twenty or thirty men
almost ever since our arrival, and so laborious, slow, difficult,
and all but impracticable had it proved, that it was barely
accomplished before it was wanted.  There was no room, however,
in the king's actual dwelling, and he could not endure not to
accommodate his son immediately next himself.

His joy upon his arrival was such joy as I have only seen here
when he arrived first from Germany; I do not mean it was equally
violent, or, alas! equally unmixed, but yet it was next and
nearest to that which had been most perfect.

Mr. Bunbury attended his royal highness.  We had all dispersed
from breakfast, but the king came in, and desired me to make him
some.  Mr. Fairly had brought him to my little parlour, and,
having called Columb, and assisted in arranging a new breakfast,
he left us, glad, I suppose, of a morning to himself, for his
majesty was wholly engrossed by the duke.

We talked over his usual theme--plays and players--and he
languished to go to the theatre and see Mrs. Jordan.  Nor did he
languish in vain: his royal master, the duke, imbibed his wishes,
and conveyed them to the king; and no sooner were they known than
an order was hastily sent to the play-house, to prepare a royal
box.  The queen was so gracious as to order Miss Planta and
myself to have the same entertainment.

The delight of the people that their king and queen should visit
this country theatre was the most disinterested I ever witnessed;
for though they had not even a glance of their royal
countenances, they shouted, huzzaed, and clapped, for

Page 191

many minutes.  The managers had prepared the front boxes for
their reception, and therefore the galleries were over them.
They made a very full and respectable appearance in this village
theatre.  The king, queen, Duke of York, and three princesses,
were all accommodated with front seats ; Lord Harcourt stood
behind the king, Lady Harcourt and Mr. Fairly behind the queen;
Lord and Lady Courtown and Lady Pembroke behind the princesses;
and at the back, Colonel Gwynn and Mr. Bunbury; Mr. Boulby and
Lady Mary were also in the back group.

I was somewhat taken up in observing a lady who sat opposite to
me, Miss W---.  My Susanna will remember that extraordinary young
lady at Bath, whose conduct and conversation I have either
written or repeated to her.(287)

I could not see her again without being much struck by another
recollection, of more recent and vexatious date.  Mrs. Thrale, in
one of the letters she has published, and which was written just
after I had communicated to her my singular rencontre with this
lady, says to Dr. Johnson, "Burney has picked up an infidel, and
recommended to her to read 'Rasselas.'

This has a strange sound, but when its circumstances are known,
its strangeness ceases; it meant Miss W--- and I greatly fear,
from the date and the book, she cannot but know the "infidel" and
herself are one.  I was truly Concerned in reading it, and I now
felt almost ashamed as well as concerned in facing her, though
her infidelity at that time, was of her own public avowal.  Mr.
Bunbury is particularly intimate with her, and admires her beyond
all women.


                          AN UN-COURTLY VISITOR.

Miss Planta and myself, by the queen's direction, went in a
chaise to see Tewkesbury.  We were carried to several very
beautiful points of view, all terminating with the noble hills of
Malvern; and we visited the cathedral. . . . The pews seem the
most unsafe, strange, and irregular that were ever constructed;
they are mounted up, story after story, without any order, now
large, now small, now projecting out wide, now almost indented in
back, nearly to the very roof of the building.  They look as if,
ready-made, they had been thrown up, and stuck wherever they
could, entirely by chance.

We returned home just in time to be hastily dressed before

Page 192

the royals came back.  I was a little, however, distressed on
being told, as I descended to dinner, that Mr. Richard
Burney(288) was in my parlour.  The strict discipline observed
here, in receiving no visits, made this a very awkward
circumstance, for I as much feared hurting him by such a hint, as
concurring in an impropriety by detaining him.  Miss Planta
suffers not a soul to approach her to this house ; and Lady
Harcourt has herself told me she thinks it would be wrong to
receive even her sisters, Miss Vernons, so much all-together is
now the house and household!

My difficulty was still increased, when, upon entering the
parlour, I found him in boots, a riding dress, and hair wholly
without curl or dressing.  Innocently, and very naturally, he had
called upon me in his travelling garb, never suspecting that in
visiting me he was at all in danger of seeing or being seen by
any one else.  Had that indeed been the case, I should have been
very glad to see him; but I knew, now, his appearance must prove
every way to his disadvantage, and I felt an added anxiety to
acquaint him with my situation.

Miss Planta looked all amazement; but he was himself all ease and
sprightly unconsciousness.

We were obliged to sit down to dinner; he had dined.  I was quite
in a panic the whole time, lest any of the royals should come in
before I could speak - but, after he had partaken of our dessert,
as much en badinage as I could, I asked him if he felt stout
enough to meet the king? and then explained to him, as concisely
as I had power, that I had here no room whatsoever at my own
disposal, in such a manner as to enable my having the happiness
to receive any of my private friends even Miss Port, though known
to all the royal family,, I could never venture to invite, except
when they were abroad: such being, at present, the universal
practice and forbearance of all the attendants in this tour.

He heard me with much surprise, and much laughter at his own
elegant equipment for such encounters as those to which he now
found himself liable; but he immediately proposed decamping, and
I could not object, Yet, to soften this disagreeable explanation,
I kept him a few minutes longer, settling concerning our further
meeting at the concerts- at Worcester, and, in this little
interval, we were startled by a rap at my door.  He laughed, and
started back; and I, alarmed,

Page 193

also retreated.  Miss Planta opened the door, and called out
"'Tis Mr. Fairly."

I saw him in amaze at sight of a gentleman; and he was himself
immediately retiring, concluding, I suppose, that nothing less
than business very urgent could have induced me to break through
rules so rigidly observed by himself and all
others.  I would not, however, let him go .  but as I continued
talking with Richard about the music meeting and my cousins, he
walked up to the window with Miss Planta.  I now kept Richard as
long as I well could, to help off his own embarrassment at this
interruption; at length he went.



                MR. FAIRLY READS "AKENSIDE" TO MISS BURNEY.
Hearing now the barking of the dogs, I knew the royals must be
going forth to their promenade; but I found Mr. Fairly either did
not hear or did not heed them.  While I expected him every moment
to recollect himself, and hasten to the walks, he quietly said,
"They are all gone but me.  I shall venture, to-night, to
shirk;--though the king will soon miss me.  But what will follow?
He will say--'Fairly is tired! How shabby!'  Well! let him say
so; I am tired!"  Miss Planta went off, soon after, to her walk.
He then said, "Have you done with my little book?"

"O yes!" I cried, "and this morning I have sent home the map of
Gloucester you were so good as to send us.  Though, I believe, I
have kept both so long, You will not again be in any haste to
lend me either a map of the land, or a poem of the sea."  I then
gave him back "The Shipwreck."

"Shall I tell you," cried I, "a design I have been forming upon
you?"

"A design upon me?"

"Yes; and I may as well own it, for I shall be quite as near
success as if I disguise it."  I then went to my little drawer
and took out Akenside."

"Here," I cried, "I intended to have had this fall in your way,
by pure accident, on the evening you were called to the conjurer,
and I have planned the same ingenious project every evening
since, but it has never taken, and so now I produce it fairly!"

"That," cried he, taking it, with a very pleased smile, "is the
only way in all things!"

Page 194

He then began reading "The Pleasures of the Imagination," and I
took some work, for which I was much in haste, and my imagination
was amply gratified.  He only looked out for favourite passages,
as he has the poem almost by heart, and he read them with a
feeling and energy that showed his whole soul penetrated with
their force and merit.

After the first hour, however, he grew uneasy'; he asked me when
I expected the king and queen from their walk, and whether they
were likely to come into my room?

"All," I said, "was uncertain."

"Can nobody," he cried, "let you know when they are coming?"

"Nobody," I answered, "would know till they were actually
arrived."

"But," cried he, "can you not bid somebody watch?"

'Twas rather an awkward commission, but I felt it would be an
awkwardness still less pleasant to me to decline it, and
therefore I called Columb, and desired he would let me know when
the queen returned.

He was then easier, and laughed a little, while he explained
himself, "Should they come in and find me reading here before  I
could put away my book, they would say we were two blue
stockings!"

At tea Miss Planta again joined us, and instantly behind him went
the book.  He was very right; for nobody would
have thought it more odd--or more blue.

During this repast they returned home, but all went straight
upstairs, the duke wholly occupying the king - and Mr. Bunbury
went to the play.  When Miss Planta, therefore, took her evening
stroll, "Akenside" again came forth, and with more security.

"There is one ode here," he cried, "that I wish to read to you,
and now I think I can."

I told him I did not in general like Akenside's odes, at least
what I had chanced to read, for I thought they were too inflated,
and filled with "liberty cant."

"But this, however," cried he, "I must read to you, it is so
pretty, though it is upon love!"

'Tis addressed to Olympia: I dare say my dearest Fredy recollects
it.(289)  It is, indeed, most feelingly written; but we

Page 195

had only got through the first stanza when the door Suddenly
opened, and enter Mr. Bunbury.

After all the precautions taken, to have him thus appear at the
very worst moment! Vexed as I was, I could really have laughed;
but Mr. Fairly was ill disposed to take it so merrily.  He
started, threw the book forcibly behind him, and instantly took
up his hat, as if decamping.  I really believe he was afraid Mr.
Bunbury would caricature us "The sentimental readers!" or what
would he have called us? Luckily this confusion passed unnoticed.
Mr. Bunbury had run away from the play to see after the horses,
etc., for his duke, and was fearful of coming too late.

plays and players now took up all the discourse, with Miss W--,
till the duke was ready to go.  They then left me together, Mr.
Fairly smiling drolly enough in departing, and looking at
"Akenside" with a very arch shrug, as who should say "What a
scrape you had nearly drawn me into, Mr. Akenside!"


                        THE DOCTOR's EMBARRASSMENT.

Sunday, Aug. 3.-This morning I was so violently oppressed by a
cold, which turns out to be the influenza, it was with the utmost
difficulty I could dress myself.  I did indeed now want some
assistant most wofully.

The princess royal has already been some days disturbed with this
influenza.  When the queen perceived it in me she told his
majesty, who came into the room just as she was going to
breakfast.  Without making any answer, he himself went
immediately to call Mr. Clerk, the apothecary, who was then with
the princess royal.

"Now, Mr. Clerk," cried he, "here's another patient for you."

Mr. Clerk, a modest, sensible man, concluded, by the king himself
having called him, that it was the queen he had

Page 196

now to attend, and he stood bowing profoundly before her but soon
observing she did not notice him, he turned in some confusion to
the Princess Augusta, who was now in the group.

"No, no! it's not me, Mr. Clerk, thank God!" cried the gay
Princess Augusta.

Still more confused, the poor man advanced to Princess Elizabeth.

"No, no; it's not her!" cried the king.

I had held back, having scarce power to open my eyes, from a
vehement head-ache, and not, indeed, wishing to go through my
examination till there were fewer witnesses.  But his majesty now
drew me out.

"Here, Mr. Clerk," he cried, "this is your new patient!"

He then came bowing up to me, the king standing close by, and the
rest pretty near.


"You--you are not well, ma'am?" he cried in the greatest
embarrassment,

"No, sir, not quite," I answered in ditto.

"O, Mr. Clerk will cure you!" cried the king.

"Are-are you feverish, ma'am?"

"Yes, sir, a little."

"I--I will send you a saline draught, ma'am."

"If you please."

And then he bowed and decamped.

Did you ever hear a more perfectly satisfactory examination? The
poor modest man was overpowered by such royal listeners and
spectators, and I could not possibly relieve him, for I was
little better myself.

I went down to breakfast, but was so exceedingly oppressed I
could not hold up my head, and as soon as I could escape I went
to my own room, and laid down till my noon attendance, which I
performed with so much difficulty I was obliged to return to the
same indulgence the moment I was at liberty.


                            FROM GRAVE TO GAY.

Down at last I went, slow and wrapped up.  I found Mr. Fairly
alone in the parlour, reading letters with such intentness that
he did not raise his head, and with an air of the deepest
dejection.  I remained wholly unnoticed a considerable time; but
at last he looked up, and with some surprise, but a voice  OF

Page 197

of extreme sadness, he said, "Is that Miss Burney? I thought it
had been Miss Planta."

I begged him to read on, and not mind me; and I called for tea.
When we had done tea, "See, ma'am," he cried, "I have brought You
'Carr,' and here is a sermon upon the text I mean, when I preach,
to choose 'Keep innocency, and take heed to the thing that is
right; for that will bring a man peace at the last.'"

Sincerely I commended his choice ; and we had a most solemn
discussion of happiness, not such as coincides with gaiety here,
but hope of salvation hereafter.  His mind has so religious a
propensity, that it seems to me, whenever he leaves it to its
natural bent, to incline immediately and instinctively to
subjects of that holy nature.

Humility, he said, in conclusion, humility was all in all for
tranquillity of mind; with that, little was expected and much was
borne, and the smallest good was a call for gratitude and
content.  How could this man be a soldier? Might one not think he
was bred in the cloisters?

"Well," cried he, again taking up the volume of "Carr," "I will
just sit and read this sermon, and then quietly go home."

He did so, feelingly, forcibly, solemnly; it is an excellent
sermon; yet so read--he so sad, and myself so ill--it was almost
too much for me, and I had some difficulty to behave with proper
propriety.  To him subjects of this sort, ill or well, bring
nothing, I believe, but strength as well as comfort.  The voice
of dejection with which he began changed to one of firmness ere
he had read three pages.

Something he saw of unusual sinking, notwithstanding what
I hid; and, with a very kind concern, when he had finished the
sermon, he said, "Is there anything upon your spirits?"

"No," I assured him, "but I was not well; and mind and body
seemed to go together sometimes, when they did not."

"But they do go together," cried he, "and will."

However, he took no further- notice: he is like me, for myself,
in that--that whatever he thinks only bodily is little worth
attention; and I did not care to risk explaining to his strong
and virtuous mind the many fears and mixed sensations of mine,
when brought to a close disquisition of awaiting eternity.

I never, but with Mrs. Delany and Dr. Johnson, have entered so
fully and so frequently upon this awful subject as

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with Mr. Fairly.  My dear and most revered Mrs. Delany dwelt upon
it continually, with joy, and pure, yet humble hope.  My
ever-honoured Dr. Johnson recurred to it perpetually, with a
veneration compounded of diffidence and terror, and an incessant,
yet unavailing plan, of amending all errors, and rising into
perfection.  Mr. Fairly leans upon it as the staff of his
strength--the trust, the hope, the rest of his soul--too big for
satisfaction in aught this world has given, or can reserve for
him.                                                   '

He did not, however, "go quietly home," when he had finished the
sermon; on the contrary, he revived in his spirits, and animated
in his discourse, and stayed on.

In speaking of the king he suddenly recollected some very fine
lines of Churchill, made on his accession to the throne.  I wish
I could transcribe them, they are so applicable to that good
king, from that moment of promise to the present of performance.
But I know not in what part of Churchill's works they may be
found.

Finding me unacquainted with his poems he then repeated several
passages, all admirably chosen ; but among them his memory called
forth some that were written upon Lord H--, which were of the
bitterest severity I ever heard:--whether deserved or not, Heaven
knows; but Mr. Fairly said he would repeat them, for the merit of
the composition.  There was no examining his opinion of their
veracity, and he made no comments; but this: Lord H-- was the
famous man so often in the House of Commons accused of expending,
or retaining, unaccounted millions

Having run through all he could immediately recollect, he said,
with a very droll smile, "Come, now I'll finish our ode," and
went to my drawer for "Akenside."

His fears of surprise, however, again came upon him so strongly
while reading it, that he flung away the book in the utmost
commotion at every sound, lest any one was entering, always
saying in excuse, "We must not be called two blue stockings;"
and, "They are so glad to laugh; the world is so always on the
watch for ridicule." . . .

I know not by what means, but after this we talked over Mr.
Hastings's trial.  I find he is very much acquainted with Mr.
Windham, and I surprised him not a little, I saw, by what I told
him of part Of My conferences with that gentleman.

This matter having led us from our serious subjects, he took

Page 199)

up "Akenside" once more, and read to me the first book
throughout, What a very, very charming poem is the "Pleasures of
the Imagination!" He stayed to the last moment, and left me all
the better for the time he thus rescued from feverish lassitude
and suffering.


                           A VISIT TO WORCESTER.

Tuesday, Aug. 5-The journey to Worcester was very pleasant, and
the country through which we passed extremely luxuriant and
pretty.  We did not go in by the Barborne road ; but all the
road, and all avenues leading to it, were lined with people, and
when we arrived at the city we could see nothing but faces ; they
lined the windows from top to bottom, and the pavement from end
to end.

We drove all through the city to come to the palace of Bishop
Hurd, at which we were to reside.  Upon stopping there, the king
had an huzza that seemed to vibrate through the whole town ; the
princess royal's carriage had a second, and the equerries a
third; the mob then, as ours drew on in succession, seemed to
deliberate whether or not we also should have a cheer: but one of
them soon decided the matter by calling out, "These are the maids
of honour!" and immediately they gave us an huzza that made us
quite ashamed, considering its vicinity.

Mr. Fairly and Colonel Goldsworthy having performed the royal
attendance, waited to hand us out of the carriage ; and then the
former said he believed he should not be wanted, and would go and
make a visit in the town.  I should have much liked walking off
also, and going to my cousins at Barborne Lodge; but I was no
free agent, and obliged to wait for commands.

The house is old and large; part of it looks to the Severn but
the celebrated "Fair Sabrina" was so thick and muddy, that at
this time her vicinity added but little to the beauty of the
situation.

My bed-room is pleasant, with a view of the distant country and
the Severn beneath it; but it is through that of the princess
royal; which is an inconvenience her royal highness submits to
with a grace that would make me ashamed to call it one to myself.
The parlour for our eating is large and dark, and old-fashioned.
I made tea in it to-night for Lord Courtown and the two colonels,
and Miss Planta, and was so much the

Page 200

better for my journey, that I felt the influenza nearly
conquered.

Wednesday, Aug. 6.-I had the pleasure to arrange going to the
music meeting with my own family.  Notes were immediately
interchanged from and to Barborne Lodge, and the queen was very
well pleased that I should have this opportunity of joining my
friends.  Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins and Betsy called for me at the
bishop's.

I was heartily glad to see Betsy and Mrs. Hawkins I introduced
Miss Planta to them, who was of our party.  We sat in what are
called the steward's places, immediately under their majesties.
The performance was very long, and tolerably tedious, consisting
of Handel's gravest pieces and fullest choruses, and concluding
with a sermon concerning the institution of the charity, preached
by Dr. Langhorne.  I was, however, so glad to be with my cousins,
that the morning was very comfortable and pleasant to me.
Richard and James joined us occasionally.; the rest of the family
are at Shrewsbury.

It was over very late, and we then went about the church, to see
King John's tomb, etc, They were very earnest with me to go to
Barborne but it was impossible.  I promised, however, to
accompany them to the concert at night, and be of their party to
all the morning meetings at the cathedral. '

My parlour at the bishop's afforded me a good deal of
entertainment, from observing the prodigious concourse of people
from all the tops of houses, and looking over the walls to watch
his majesty's entrance into the court-yard.  Poor Lord Courtown,
on account of his star, was continually taken for the king, and
received so many huzzas and shouts, that he hardly dared show
himself except when in attendance.


                         THE QUEEN AND MR. FAIRLY.

Saturday, Aug. 9.-Her majesty this morning a little surprised me
by gravely asking me what were Mr. Fairly's designs with regard
to his going away ? I could not tell her I did not know what I
was really acquainted with; yet I feared it might seem odd to her
that I should be better informed than herself, and it was truly
unpleasant to me to relate anything he had told me without his
leave.  Her question, therefore, gave me a painful sensation; but
it was spoken with an air so strongly denoting a belief that I
had power to answer it, that I felt no choice in making a plain
reply.  Simply, then, "I understand,

Page 201

ma'am," I said, "that he means to go to-morrow morning
early."

"Will he stay on to-night, then, at Worcester?"

"N-o, ma'am, I believe not."

"I thought he meant to leave us to-day?  He said so."

"He intended it, ma'am,--he would else not have said it."

"I know I understood so, though he has not spoke to me of his
designs this great while."

I saw an air bordering upon displeasure as this was said and how
sorry I felt!--and how ashamed of being concluded the person
better informed!  Yet, as he had really related to me his plan,
and I knew it to be what he had thought most respectful to
herself, I concluded it best, thus catechised, to speak it all,
and therefore, after some hesitation uninterrupted by her, I
said, "I believe, ma'am, Mr. Fairly had intended fully to begin
his journey to-day, but, as Your majesty is to go to the play
to-night, he thinks it his duty to defer setting out till
to-morrow, that he may have the honour to attend your majesty as
usual."

This, which was the exact truth, evidently pleased her.

Here the inquiry dropped; but I was very uneasy to relate it to
Mr. Fairly, that the sacrifice I knew he meant to make of another
day might not lose all its grace by wanting to be properly
revealed.


                           MR. FAIRLY MORALIZES.

Our journey back to Cheltenham was much more quiet than it had
been to Worcester, for the royal party too], another route to see
Malvern hills, and we went straight forward.

Miss Planta having now caught the influenza, suffered very much
all the way, and I persuaded her immediately to lie down when we
got to Fauconberg Hall.  She could not come down to dinner, which
I had alone.  The Princess Elizabeth came to me after it, with
her majesty's permission that I might go to the play with my
usual party ; but I declined it, that I might make some tea for
poor Miss Planta, as she had no maid, nor any creature to help
her.  The princess told me they were all going first upon the
walks, to promener till the play time.

I sat down to make my solitary tea, and had just sent up a basin
to Miss Planta, when, to my equal surprise and pleasure, Mr.
Fairly entered the room.  "I come now," he said, "to take my
leave."

They were all, he added, gone to the walks, whither he must

Page 202

in a few minutes follow them, and thence attend to the play, and
the next morning, by five o'clock, be ready for his post-chaise.
Seeing me, however, already making tea, with his Usual and
invariable sociability he said he would venture to stay and
partake, though he was only come, he gravely repeated, to take
his leave.

"And I must not say," cried I, "that I am sorry you are going,
because I know so well you wish to be gone that it makes me wish
it for you myself."

"No," answered he, "you must not be sorry; when our friends are
going to any joy.  We must think of them, and be glad to part
with them."

Readily entering the same tone, with similar plainness of truth I
answered, No, I will not be sorry you go, though miss you at
Cheltenham I certainly must."

"Yes," was his unreserved assent, "you will miss me here, because
I have spent my evenings with you; but You Will not long remain
at Cheltenham."

Oim`e!" thought I, you little think how much Worse will be the
quitting it.  He owned that the bustle and fatigue of this life
was too much both for his health and his spirits.

I told him I Wished it might be a gratification to him, in his
toils, to hear how the queen always spoke of him; With what
evident and constant complacency and distinction.  "And you may
credit her sincerity," I added, "Since it is to so little a
person as me she does this, and when no one else is present."

He was not insensible to this, though he passed it over without
much answer.  He showed me a letter from his second son, very
affectionate and natural.  I congratulated him, most sincerely,
on his approaching happiness in collecting them all together.
"Yes he answered, "my group will increase, like a snow-ball, as I
roll along, and they will soon all four be as happy as four
little things know how to be."

This drew him on into some reflections upon affection and upon
happiness.  "There is no happiness," he said, "without
participation; no participation without affection.  There is,
indeed, in affection a charm that leaves all things behind it,
and renders even every calamity that does not interfere with it
inconsequential and there is no difficulty, no toil, no labour,
no exertion, that will not be endured where there is a view of
reaping it."

He ruminated some time, and then told me of a sermon he had heard
preached some months ago, sensibly demonstrating

Page 203

the total vanity and insufficiency, even for this world, of all
our best affections, and proving their fallibility from our most
infirm humanity.

My concurrence did not here continue: I cannot hold this doctrine
to be right, and I am most sure it is not desirable.  our best
affections, I must and do believe, were given us for the best
purposes, for every stimulation to good, and every solace in
evil.

But this was not a time for argument.  I said nothing, while he,
melancholy and moralizing, continued in this style as long as he
could venture to stay.  He then rose and took his hat, saying, "
Well, so much for the day; what may come to-morrow I know not;
but, be it what it may, I stand prepared."

I hoped, I told him, that his little snowball would be all he
could wish it, and I was heartily glad he would so soon collect
it.

"We will say," cried he, "nothing of any regrets," and bowed, and
was hastening off.

The "we," however, had an openness and simplicity that drew from
me an equally open and simple reply.  "No," I cried, "but I will
say-for that you will have pleasure in hearing that you have
lightened my time here in a manner that no one else could have
done, of this party."

To be sure this was rather a circumscribed compliment, those he
left considered - but it was strict and exact truth, and
therefore like his own dealing.  He said not a word of answer,
but bowed, and went away, leaving me firmly impressed with a
belief that I shall find in him a true, an honourable, and even
an affectionate friend, for life.


                    MAJOR PRICE IS TIRED OF RETIREMENT.

Sunday, Aug. 10.-Major Price was of the breakfast party this
morning, to my great contentment.  I heartily wish he was again
in the king's household, he is so truly attached to his majesty,
and he so earnestly himself wishes for a restoration, not to the
equerryship, which is too laborious an office, but to any
attendance upon the king's person of less fatigue.

He opened to me very much upon his situation and wishes.  he has
settled himself in a small farm near the house of his eldest
brother, but I could see too plainly he has not found there the
contentment that satisfies him.  He sighs for society ; he owns
books are insufficient for everything, and his evenings

Page 204
begin already to grow wearisome.  He does not wish it to be
talked of publicly, but he is solicitous to return to the king,
in any place attached to his person, of but mild duty.  Not only
the king, he said, he loved, but all his society, and the way of
life in general; and he had no tie whatsoever to Herefordshire
that would make him hesitate a moment in quitting it, if another
place could be made adequate to his fortune.  His income was
quite too small for any absence from his home of more than a few
weeks, in its present plight; and therefore it could alone be by
some post under government that he must flatter himself with ever
returning to the scenes he had left.

How rarely does a plan of retirement answer the expectations upon
which it is raised!  He fears having this suspected, and
therefore keeps the matter to himself; but I believe he so much
opened it to me, in the hope I might have an opportunity to make
it known where it might be efficacious; for he told me, at the
same time, he apprehended his majesty had a notion his fondness
for Herefordshire, not his inability to continue equerry, had
occasioned his resignation.

I shall certainly make it my business to hint this to the queen.
So faithful and attached a servant ought not to be thrown aside,
and, after nine years' service, left unrewarded, and seem
considered as if superannuated.


                         MR. FAIRLY'S LITTLE NOTE.

When I came from her majesty, just before she went down to
dinner, I was met by a servant who delivered me a letter, which
he told me was just come by express.  I took it in some alarm,
fearing that ill news alone could bring it by such haste, but,
before I could open it, he said, "'Tis from Mr. Fairly, ma'am."

I hastened to read, and will now copy it:-

"Northleach, Aug. 10, 1788.
"Her majesty may possibly not have heard that Mr. Edmund Waller
died on Thursday night.  He was master of St. Catherine's, which
is in her majesty's gift.  It may be useful to her to have this
early intelligence of this circumstance, and you will have the
goodness to mention it to her.  Mr. W. was at a
house upon his own estate within a mile and a half of this place,
Very truly and sincerely yours,
"S. Fairly."
"Miss Burney, Fauconberg Hall."

Page 205

How to communicate this news, however, was a real distress to me.
I know her majesty is rather scrupulous that all messages
immediately to herself should be conveyed by the highest
channels, and I feared she would think this ought to have been
sent through her lady then in waiting, Lady Harcourt.  Mr.
Fairly, too, however superior to such small matters for himself,
is most punctiliously attentive to them for her.  I could
attribute this only to haste.  But my difficulty was not alone to
have received the intelligence-the conclusion of the note I was
sure would surprise her.  The rest, as a message to herself,
being without any beginning, would not strike her; but the words
"very truly and sincerely yours," come out with such an abrupt
plainness, and to her, who knows not with what intimacy of
intercourse we have lived together so much during this last
month, I felt quite ashamed to show them.

While wavering how to manage, a fortunate circumstance seemed to
come to my relief; the Princess Elizabeth ran up hastily to her
room, which is just opposite to mine, before she followed the
queen down to dinner; I flew after her, and told her I had just
heard of the death of Mr. Waller, the Master of St. Catherine's,
and I begged her to communicate it to her majesty.

She undertook it, with her usual readiness to oblige, and I was
quite delighted to have been so speedy without producing my note,
which I determined now not even to mention unless called upon,
and even then not to produce; for now, as I should not have the
first telling, it might easily be evaded by not having it in my
pocket.

The moment, however, that the dinner was over, Princess Elizabeth
came to summon me to the queen.  This was very unexpected, as I
thought I should not see her till night; but I locked up my note
and followed.

She was only with the princesses.  I found the place was of
importance, by the interest she took about it.  She asked me
several questions relative to Mr. Waller.  I answered her all I
could collect from my note, for further never did I hear; but the
moment I was obliged to stop she said, "Pray have you known him
long?"

"I never knew him at all, ma'am."

"No? Why, then, how came you to receive the news about his
death?"

Was not this agreeable? I was forced to say, "I heard of it only
from Mr. Fairly, ma'am."

Page 206
Nothing Could exceed the surprise with which she now lifted up
her eyes to look at me.  "From Mr. Fairly?--Why did he not tell
it me?"

O, worse and worse! I was now compelled to answer, "He did not
know It when he was here, ma'am; he heard it at Northleach, and,
thinking it might be of use to your majesty to have the account
immediately, he sent it over express."

A dead silence so uncomfortable ensued, that I thought it best
presently to go on further, though unasked.
"Mr. Fairly, ma'am, wrote the news to me, on such small paper,
and in such haste, that it is hardly fit to he shown to your
majesty; but I have the note upstairs."

No answer; again all silent; and then Princess Augusta said,
"Mamma, Miss Burney says she has the note upstairs."

"If your majesty pleases to see it"--

She looked up again, much more pleasantly, and said, "I shall be
glad to see it," with a little bow.

Out I went for it, half regretting I had not burned it, to make
the producing it impossible.  When I brought it to her, she
received it with the most gracious smile, and immediately read it
aloud, with great complacency, till she came to the end and then,
with a lowered and somewhat altered tone, the "very truly and
sincerely yours," which she seemed to look at for a moment with
some doubt if it were not a mistake, but in returning it she
bowed again, and simply said, "I am very much obliged to Mr.
Fairly."

You will be sure how much I was pleased during this last week to
hear that the place of the Master of St. Catherine's was given by
her majesty to Mr. Fairly.  It is reckoned the best in her gift,
as a sinecure.  What is the income I know not: reports differ
from 400 to 500 per annum.


                          THE RETURN TO WINDSOR.

Saturday, Aug. 16.-We left Cheltenham early this morning.  Major
Price breakfasted with us, and was so melancholy at the king's
departure he could hardly speak a word.  All Cheltenham was drawn
out into the High-street, the gentles on one side and the commons
on the other, and a band, and "God save the king," playing and
singing.

My dear Port, with all her friends, was there for a last look,
and a sorrowful one we interchanged; Mr. Seward also, whom again
I am not likely to meet for another two years at least.

Page 207

The journey was quite without accident or adventure.

And thus ends the Cheltenham episode.  May I not justly call it
so, different as it is to all the mode of life I have hitherto
lived here, or alas I am in a way to live henceforward?

melancholy--most melancholy-was the return to Windsor destitute
of all that could solace, compose, or delight ; replete with
whatever could fatigue, harass, and depress! Ease, leisure,
elegant society, and interesting communication, were now to give
place to arrogant manners, contentious disputation, and arbitrary
ignorance!  Oh, heaven! my dearest friends, what scales could
have held and have weighed the heart of your F.B. as she drove
past the door of her revered, lost comforter, to enter the
apartment inhabited by such qualities!

But before I quit this journey let me tell one very pleasant
anecdote.  When we stopped to change horses at Burford I alighted
and went into the inn, to meet Mrs. Gast, to whom I had sent by
Mrs. Frodsham a request to be there as we passed through the
town.  I rejoiced indeed to see again the sister of our first and
wisest friend.  My Susanna, who knows her too enthusiastic
character, will easily suppose my reception.  I was folded in her
arms, and bathed in her tears all my little stay, and my own,
from reflected tenderness for her ever-honoured, loved, and
lamented brother, would not be kept quite back; 'twas a species
of sorrowful joy--painful, yet pleasing--that seemed like a fresh
tribute to his memory and my affection, and made the meeting
excite an emotion that occupied my mind and reflections almost
all the rest of my journey.

She inquired most kindly after my dear father and my Susanna, and
separately and with interest of all the rest of the family; but
her surprise to see me now, by this most un expected journey,
when she had concluded me inevitably shut up from her sight for
the remainder of her life, joined to the natural warmth of her
disposition, seemed almost to suffocate her.  I was very sorry to
leave her, but my time was unavoidably short and hurried.  I
inquired after Chesington, and heard very good accounts.



            AT WINDSOR AGAIN  THE CANON AND MRS. SCHWELLENBERG.
Windsor, Sunday, Aug. 17.-This day, after our arrival, began
precisely the same as every day preceding our journey.  The
Sleeping Beauty in the Wood could not awake more completely to
the same scene; yet I neither have been asleep, nor
Page 208

am quite a beauty! O! I wish I were as near to the latter as the
former at this minute!

We had all the set assembled to congratulate his majesty on his
return--generals and colonels without end.  I was very glad while
the large party lasted, its diminution into a solitary pair
ending in worse than piquet--a tête-à-tête!--and such a one,
too! after being so spoiled!

Monday, Aug. 18.-Well, now I have a new personage to introduce to
you, and no small one; ask else the stars, moon and planets!
While I was surrounded with bandboxes, and unpacking, Dr.
Shepherd was announced.  Eager to make his compliments on the
safe return, he forced a passage through the back avenues and
stairs, for he told me he did not like being seen coming to me at
the front door, as it might create some jealousies amongst the
other canons! A very commendable circumspection! but whether for
my sake or his own he did not particularize.

M. de Lalande, he said, the famous astronomer,(290) was just
arrived in England, and now at Windsor, and he had expressed a
desire to be introduced to me.

Well, while he was talking this over, and I was wondering and
evading, entered Mr. Turbulent.  What a surprise at sight of the
reverend canon!  The reverend canon, also, was interrupted and
confused, fearing, possibly, the high honour he did me might now
transpire amongst his brethren, notwithstanding his generous
efforts to spare them its knowledge.

Mr. Turbulent, who looked big with heroics, was quite provoked to
see he had no chance of giving them vent.  They each outstayed
the patience of the other, and at last both went off together.

Some hours after, however, while I was dressing, the canon
returned.  I could not admit him, and bid Goter tell him at the
door I was not visible.  He desired he might wait till I was
ready, as he had business of importance.  I would not let him
into the next room, but said he might stay in the eating-parlour.

When I was dressed I sent Goter to bring him in.  She came back,
grinning and colouring,; she had not found him, she said, but
only Mrs. Schwellenberg, who was there alone, and had

Page 209

called her in to know what she wanted.  She answered she came to
seek for a gentleman.

"There's no gentleman," she cried, "to come into my parlour.  it
is not permit.  When he comes I will have it locked up."

O, ho, my poor careful canon! thought I.  However, soon after a
tap again at my door introduced him.  He said he had been waiting
below in the passage, as he saw Madame Schwellenberg in the
parlour, and did not care to have her know him; but his business
was to settle bringing M. de Lalande to see me in the evening.  I
told him I was much honoured, and so forth, but that I received
no evening company, as I was officially engaged.

He had made the appointment, he said, and could not break it
without affronting him; besides, he gave me to understand it
would be an honour to me for ever to be visited by so great an
astronomer.  I agreed as to that, and was forced, moreover, to
agree to all the rest, no resource remaining

I mentioned to her majesty the state of the case.  She thought
the canon very officious, and disapproved the arrangement, but
saw it was unavoidable.

But when the dinner came I was asked by the présidente, "What for
send you gentlemen to my parlour?"

" I was dressing, ma'am, and could not possibly receive company
in mine, and thought the other empty."

"Empty or full is the same! I won't have it.  I will lock up the
room when it is done so.  No, no, I won't have no gentlemen here;
it is not permit, perticklere when they Nvon't not speak to me!"

I then heard that "a large man, what you call," had entered that
sacred domain, and seeing there a lady, had quitted it "bob
short!"

I immediately explained all that had passed, for I had no other
way to save myself from an imputation of favouring the visits and
indiscretion of this most gallant canon.

"Vell, when he comes so often he might like you.  For what won't
you not marry him?"

This was coming to the point, and so seriously, I found myself
obliged to be serious in answer, to avoid misconstruction, and to
assure her, that were he Archbishop of Canterbury, and actually
at my feet, I would not become archbishopess.

"Vell, you been right when you don't not like him; I don't not
like the men neither: not one from them!"

Page 210

So this settled us very amicably till tea-time, and in the midst
of that, with a room full of people, I was called out by
Westerhaults to Dr. Shepherd!

Mrs. Schwellenberg herself actually te-he'd at this, and I could
not possibly help laughing myself, but I hurried into the next
room, where I found him with his friend, M. de Lalande.  What a
reception awaited me! how unexpected a one from a famed and great
astronomer.


               COMPLIMENTS FROM A FAMOUS FOREIGN ASTRONOMER.
M. de Lalande advanced to meet me---I will not be quite positive
it was on tiptoe, but certainly with a mixture of jerk and strut
that could not be quite flat-footed.  He kissed my hand with the
air of a petit-maître, and then broke forth into such an harangue
of éloges, so solemn with regard to its own weight and
importance, and so fade(291) with respect to the little personage
addressed, that I could not help thinking it lucky for the
planets, stars, and sun, they were not bound to hear his
comments, though obliged to undergo his calculations.

On my part sundry profound reverences, with now and then an "O,
monsieur!" or "c'est trop d'honneur," acquitted me so well, that
the first harangue being finished, on the score of general and
grand reputation, éloge the second began, on the excellency with
which "cette célèbre demoiselle" spoke French!

This may surprise you, my dear friends; but You must consider M.
de Lalande is a great discoverer.

Well, but had you seen Dr. Shepherd! he looked lost in sleek
delight and wonder, that a person to whom he had introduced M. de
Lalande should be an object for such fine speeches.

This gentleman's figure, meanwhile, corresponds no better with
his discourse than his scientific profession, for he is an ugly
little wrinkled old man, with a fine showy waistcoat, rich  lace
ruffles, and the grimaces of a dentist.  I believe he chose  to
display that a Frenchman of science could be also a man of
gallantry.

I was seated between them, but the good doctor made no greater
interruption to the florid professor than I did myself; he only
grinned applause, with placid, but ineffable satisfaction.

Nothing therefore intervening, éloge the third followed, after a
pause no longer than might be necessary for due admiration

Page 211

of éloge the second.  This had for sujet the fair female sex; how
the ladies were now all improved; how they could write, and read,
and spell; how a man now-a-days might talk with them and be
understood, and how delightful it was to see such pretty
creatures turned rational!

And all this, of course, interspersed with particular
observations and most pointed applications; nor was there in the
whole string of compliments which made up the three bouquets, one
single one amongst them that might have disgraced any petit
maître to utter, or any petite maîtresse to hear.

The third being ended, a rather longer pause ensued.  I believe
he was dry, but I offered him no tea.  I would not voluntarily be
accessory to detaining such great personages from higher
avocations.  I wished him next to go and study the stars: from
the moon he seemed so lately arrived there was little occasion
for another journey.

I flatter myself he was of the same opinion, for the fourth éloge
was all upon his unhappiness in tearing himself away from so much
merit, and ended in as many bows as had accompanied his entrance.

I suppose, in going, he said, with a shrug, to the canon, "M. le
docteur, c'est bien gênant, mais il faut dire des jolies choses
aux dames!"(293)

He was going the next day to see Dr. Maskelyne's observatory.
Well! I have had him first in mine!

I was obliged on my return to the tea-room to undergo much dull
raillery from my fair companion, and Much of wonder that "since
the canon had such good preferment" I did not "marry him at
once," for he "would not come so often if he did not want it."


                  THE PRINCE EYES MISS BURNEY CURIOUSLY.

Tuesday, Aug. 18.--The Duke of York's birthday was kept this day,
instead of Saturday, that Sunday morning might not interfere with
the ball.

The Prince of Wales arrived early, while I was yet with the
queen.  He kissed her hand, and she sent for the princesses.
Only Princess Elizabeth and Princess Sophia were dressed.  Her
majesty went into the next room with Mrs. Sandys, to have her
shoes put on, with which she always finishes.  The prince and
princesses then chatted away most fluently.
Page 212

Princess Elizabeth frequently addressed me with great sweetness
but the prince only with curious eyes.  Do not, however,
understand that his looks were either haughty or impertinent far
from it ; they were curious, however, in the extreme.


                        COLONEL MANNERS'S BEATING.

Colonel Manners made me laugh as If I had been at a farce, by his
history of the late Westminster election, in which Lord John
Townshend conquered Lord Hood.  Colonel Manners is a most eager
and active partisan on the side of the government, but so
indiscreet, that he almost regularly gets his head broke at every
contested election; and he relates it as a thing of course.
I inquired if he pursued his musical studies, so happily begun
with Colonel Wellbred?  "Why," answered he, "not much, because of
the election; but the thing is, to get an ear: however, I think I
have got one, because I know a tune when I hear it, if it's one
that I've heard before a good many times so I think that's a
proof.  but I can never get asked to a concert, and that keeps me
a little behind."

"Perhaps," cried I, "your friends conclude you have music enough
in your three months' waiting to satisfy you for all the year?"

"O, ma'am, as to that, I'd just as lief hear so many pots and
pans rattled together; one noise is just as well as another to
me."

I asked him whether his electioneering with so much activity did
not make his mother, Lady Robert, a little uneasy?--N.B.  She is
a methodist.

"O, it does her a great deal of good," cried he;"for I could
never get her to meddle before ; but when I'd had my head broke,
it provoked her so, she went about herself canvassing among the
good people,--and she got us twenty votes."

"So then," cried Colonel Goldsworthy, "there are twenty good
people in the world?  That's your calculation, is it?"

Mr. Fisher, who just then came in, and knew nothing of what had
passed, starting the election, said to Colonel Manners, "So, sir,
you have been beat, I hear!"

He meant only his party ; but his person having shared the same
fate, occasioned a violent shout among the rest at this innocent
speech, and its innocent answer - for Colonel Man-

Page 213
ners, looking only a little surprised, simply said, "Yes, I was
beat, a little."

"A little, sir?" exclaimed Mr. Fisher, "no, a great deal you were
shamefully beat--thrashed thoroughly."
In the midst of a violent second shout, Colonel Manners only
said, "Well, I always hated all that party, and now I hate them
worse than ever."

"Ay, that I'll be bound for you," cried Colonel Goldsworthy.

"Yes  for having been so drubbed by them," cried Mr. Fisher.

As I   now, through all his good humour, saw Colonel Manners
colour a little, I said in a low voice to Mr. Fisher, "Pray is it
in innocence, or in malice, that you use these terms."

I saw his innocence by his surprise, and I whispered him the
literal state of all he said; he was quite shocked, and coloured
in his turn, apologising instantly to Colonel Manners, and
protesting he had never heard of his personal ill usage, but only
meant the defeat of his party.


             MR. FAIRLY IS DISCUSSED BY HIS BROTHER EQUERRIES.
Everybody was full of Mr. Fairly's appointment, and spoke of it
with pleasure.  General Budé had seen him in town, where he had
remained some days, to take the oaths, I believe, necessary for
his place.  General Budé has long been intimate with him, and
spoke of his character exactly as it has appeared to me; and
Colonel Goldsworthy, who was at Westminster with him, declared he
believed a better man did not exist.  "This, in particular,"
cried General Budé, "I must say of Fairly: whatever he thinks
right he pursues straightforward and I believe there is not a
sacrifice upon earth that he would not make, rather than turn a
moment out of the path that he had an opinion it was his duty to
keep in."

They talked a good deal of his late lady; none of them knew her
but very slightly, as she was remarkably reserved.  "More than
reserved," cried General Budé, "she was quite cold.  Yet she
loved London and public life, and Fairly never had any taste for
them; in that they were very mal assortis, but in all other
things very happy."

"Yes," cried Colonel Goldsworthy, "and how shall we give praise
enough to a man that would be happy himself, and make

Page 214

his wife so too, for all that difference of opinion ? for it was
all his management, and good address, and good temper.  I hardly
know such another man."

General Budé then related many circumstances of his most
exemplary conduct during the illness of his poor suffering wife,
and after her loss; everybody, indeed, upon the occasion of this
new appointment, has broke forth to do justice to his deserving
it.  Mrs. Ariana Egerton, who came twice to drink tea with me on
my being sensa Cerbera, told me that her brother-in-law, Colonel
Masters, who had served with him at Gibraltar, protested there
was not an officer in the army of a nobler and higher character,
both professional and personal.

She asked me a thousand questions of what I thought about Miss
Fuzilier?  She dislikes her so very much, she cannot bear to
think of her becoming Mrs. Fairly.  She has met with some marks
of contempt from her in their official meetings at St. James's,
that cannot be pardoned.  Miss Fuziller, indeed, seemed to me
formerly, when I used to meet her in company, to have an
uncertainty of disposition that made her like two persons; now
haughty, silent, and supercilious--and then gentle, composed, and
interesting.  She Is, however, very little liked, the worst being
always what most spreads abroad.


BARON TRENCK: MR. TURBULENT"S RAILLERY.

Sept. 1.-Peace to the manes of the poor slaughtered partridges!

I finished this morning the "Memoirs of Baron Trenck," which have
given me a great deal of entertainment; I mean in the first
volume, the second containing not more matter than might fill
four pages.  But the singular hardiness, gallantry, ferocity, and
ingenuity of this copy of the knights of ancient times, who has
happened to be born since his proper epoch, have wonderfully
drawn me on, and I could not rest without finishing his
adventures.  They are reported to be chiefly of his own
invention; but I really find an air of self-belief in his
relations, that inclines me to think he has but narrated what he
had persuaded himself was true.  His ill-usage is such as to
raise the utmost indignation in every reader and if it really
affected his memory and imagination, and became thence the parent
of some few embellishments and episodes, I can neither wonder nor
feel the interest of his narrative diminished.

Sept. 2.-Mr. Turbulent was in high rage that I was utterly

Page 215
invisible since my return from Cheltenham; he protested he had
called seven times at my door without gaining admission, and
never was able to get in but when " Dr.  Shepherd had led the
way.

He next began a mysterious attack upon the proceedings of
Cheltenham.  He had heard, he said, strange stories of
flirtations there.  I could not doubt what he meant, but I would
not seem to understand him: first, because I know not from whom
he has been picking up this food for his busy spirit, since no
one there appeared collecting it for him ; and secondly, because
I would not degrade an acquaintance which I must hope will prove
as permanent as it is honourable, by conceiving the word
flirtation to be possibly connected with it.

By every opportunity, in the course of the day, he renewed this
obscure raillery; but I never would second it, either by question
or retort, and therefore it cannot but die away unmeaningly as it
was born.  Some effect, however, it seems to have had upon him,
who has withdrawn all his own heroics, while endeavouring to
develop what I have received elsewhere.


                     AMIABLE MRS. SCHWELLENBERG AGAIN.

Sept. 4.-To-day there was a Drawing-room, and I had the blessing
of my dearest father while it lasted; but not solus; he was
accompanied by my mother; and my dear Esther and her little
innocent Sophy spent part of the time with us.  I am to be
god-mother to the two little ones, Esther's and James's.  Heaven
bless them!

We returned to Kew to a late dinner; and, indeed, I had one of
the severest evenings I ever passed, where my heart took no share
in unkindness and injustice.  I was wearied in the extreme, as I
always am on these drawing-room days, which begin with full
hair-dressing at six o'clock in the morning, and hardly ever
allow any breakfast time, and certainly only standing, except
while frizzing, till the drawing-room commences; and then two
journeys in that decked condition--and then another dressing,
with three dressing attendances--and a dinner at near seven
o'clock.

Yet, not having power to be very amusing after all this, I was
sternly asked by Mrs. Schwellenberg, "For what I did not talk?"

I answered simply, "Because I was tired."

"You tired!--what have you done?  when I used to do so much more-
-you tired! what have you to do but to be happy:

Page 216

--have you the laces to buy? have you the wardrobe to part? have
you--you tired? Vell, what will become next, when you have every
happiness!--you might not be tired.  No, I can't bear It."

This, and so much more than it would be possible to write, all
uttered with a haughtiness and contempt that the lowest servant
could not have brooked receiving, awoke me pretty completely,
though before I was scarce able to keep my eyelids a moment open;
but so sick I turned, that indeed it was neither patience nor
effort that enabled me to hear her; I had literally hardly
strength, mental or bodily, to have answered her.  Every
happiness mine!--O gracious heaven! thought I, and is this the
companion of my leisure--the associate of my life!  Ah, my dear
friends, I will not now go on--I turn sick again.


                               A ROYAL JOKE.

Sept. 29.-The birth-day of our lovely eldest princess.
  It happens to be also the birth-day of Miss Goldsworthy; and
her majesty, in a sportive humour, bid me, as soon as she
was dressed, go and bring down the two "Michaelmas geese."
    I told the message to the Princess Augusta, who repeated It
in its proper words.  I attended them to the queen's dressing-
room, and there had the pleasure to see the cadeaux
presentations.  The birth-days in this house are made extremely
interesting at the moment, by the reciprocations of presents and
congratulations in this affectionate family.  Were they but
attended with less of toil (I hate to add ette, for I am sure it
is not little toil), I should like them amazingly.


                COLONEL GOLDSWORTHY'S BREACH OF ETIQUETTE.
Mrs. Schwellenberg has become both colder and fiercer.  I cannot
now even meet her eyes-they are almost terrifying.  Nothing upon
earth having passed between us, nor the most remote subject of
offence having occurred, I have only one thing on which to rest
my conjectures, for the cause of this newly-awakened evil spirit,
and this is from the gentlemen.  They had all of late been so
wearied that they could not submit even for a quarter of an hour
to her society : they had swallowed a dish of tea and quitted the
room all in five minutes, and Colonel Goldsworthy in particular,
when without any companion in his waiting, had actually always
fallen asleep,

Page 217

even during that short interval, or at least shut his
eyes, to save himself the toil of speaking.

This she brooked very ill, but I was esteemed innocent, and
therefore made, occasionally, the confidant of her complaints.
But lately, that she has been ill, and kept upstairs every night,
she has always desired me to come to her as soon as tea was over,
which, she observed, "need not keep me five minutes." On the
contrary, however, the tea is now at least an hour, and often
more.

I have been constantly received with reproaches for not coming
sooner, and compelled to declare I had not been sooner at
liberty.  This has occasioned a deep and visible resentment, all
against them, yet vented upon me, not in acknowledged
displeasure--pride there interfered--but in constant ill-humour,
ill-breeding, and ill-will.

At length, however, she has broken out into one inquiry, which,
if favourably answered, might have appeased all; but truth was
too strongly in the way.  A few evenings after her confinement
she very gravely said, "Colonel Goldsworthy always sleeps with
me! sleeps he with you the same?"

In the midst of all my irksome discomfort, it was with difficulty
I could keep my countenance at this question, which I was forced
to negative.

The next evening she repeated it.  "Vell, sleeps he yet with you-
-Colonel Goldsworthy?"

"Not yet, ma'am," I hesitatingly answered.

"O! ver vell! he will sleep with nobody but me!  O, i von't come
down."

And a little after she added, "I believe he vill marry you."

"I believe not, ma'am," I answered.

And then, very gravely,, she proposed him to me, saying he only
wanted a little encouragement, for he was always declaring he
wished for a wife, and yet wanted no fortune-" so for what won't
you not have him?"

I assured her we were both perfectly well satisfied apart, and
equally free from any thoughts of each other.

"Then for what," she cried, "won't you have Dr.  Shepherd?"  She
Is now in the utmost haste to dispose of me! And then she added
she had been told that Dr.  Shepherd would marry me!

She is an amazing woman ! Alas, I might have told her I knew too
well what it was to be tied to a companion ill-assorted and
unbeloved, where I could not help myself, to

Page 218

make any such experiment as a volunteer!

If she asks me any more about Colonel Goldsworthy and his
sleeping, I think I will answer I am too near-sighted to be sure
if he is awake or not!

However, I cannot but take this stroke concerning the table
extremely ill; for though amongst things of the very least
consequence in itself, it is more openly designed as an affront
than any step that has been taken with me yet.

I have given the colonel a hint, however,-that he may keep awake
in future. . . .


                      ILLNESS OF MRS. SCHWELLENBERG.

Oct. 2.-Mrs. Schwellenberg, very ill indeed, took leave of the
queen at St. James's, to set off for Weymouth, in company with
Mrs. Hastings.  I was really very sorry for her; she was truly in
a situation Of suffering, from bodily pain, the most pitiable.  I
thought, as I looked at her, that if the ill-humours I so often
experience could relieve her, I would consent to bear them
unrepining, in preference to seeing or knowing her so ill.  But
it is just the contrary; spleen and ill-temper only aggravate
disease, and while they involve others in temporary participation
of their misery, twine it around themselves in bandages almost
stationary.  She was civil, too, poor woman.  I suppose when
absent she could not well tell why she had ever been otherwise.


                  GENERAL GRENVILLE'S REGIMENT AT DRILL.

Oct. 9.-I go on now pretty well; and I am so much acquainted with
my party, that when no strangers are added, I begin to mind
nothing but the first entree of my male visitants.  My royal
mistress is all sweetness to me; Miss Planta is most kind and
friendly; General Budé is ever the same, and ever what I do not
wish to alter; Colonel Goldsworthy seems coming round to
good-humour; and even General Grenville begins to grow sociable.
He has quitted the corner into which he used to cast his long
figure, merely to yawn and lounge ; and though yawn and lounge he
does still, and must, I believe, to the end of the chapter, he
yet does it in society, and mixes between it loud sudden laughter
at what is occasionally said, and even here and there a question
relative to what is going forward.  Nay-yesterday he even seated
himself at the tea

Page 219

table, and amused himself by playing with my work-box, and making
sundry inquiries about its contents.

Oct. 10.-This evening, most unwittingly, I put my new neighbour's
good-humour somewhat to the test.  He asked me whether I had
walked out in the morning? Yes, I answered, I always walked.
"And in the Little park?" cried he.  Yes, I said, and to Old
Windsor, and round the park wall, and along the banks of the
Thames, and almost to Beaumont Lodge, and in the avenue of the
Great park, and in short, in all the vicinage of Windsor.  "But
in the Little park?" he cried.

Still I did not understand him, but plainly answered, "Yes, this
morning,; and indeed many mornings."

"But did you see nothing--remark nothing there?

No, not that I recollect, except some soldiers drilling."
You never heard such a laugh as now broke forth from all for,
alas for my poor eyes, there had been in the Little park General
Grenville's whole regiment, with all his officers, and himself at
their head!  Fortunately it is reckoned one of the finest in the
king's service : this I mentioned, adding that else I could never
again appear before him.

He affected to be vehemently affronted, but hardly knew how, even
in joke, to appear so ; and all the rest helped the matter on, by
saying that they should know now how to distinguish his regiment,
which henceforth must always be called " the drill."

The truth is, as soon as I perceived a few red-coats I had turned
another way, to avoid being marched at, and therefore their
number and splendour had all been thrown away upon me.

(278) "Cerbera" was Fanny's not inappropriate name for
Mrs. Schwellenberg.-ED.

(279) By William Falconer, born at Edinburgh in 1730.  His poem,
"The Shipwreck," was suggested by his own experience at sea, and
was first published in 1762.  Falconer sailed for Bengal in 1769,
the vessel touched at the Cape in December, and was never heard
of more.-ED.

(280) In the "European Magazine" for May 1788, appeared an
article from the pen of Baretti, headed "On Signora Piozzi's
publication of Dr. Johnson's Letters, Stricture the First."  It
is filled with coarse, personal abuse of the lady, whom the
author terms "the frontless female, who goes now by the mean
appellation of Piozzi."  "Stricture the Second," in the same
tone, appeared the following month, and the "Third," which closed
the series, in August of the same year.  In the last number
Baretti comments, with excessive bitterness, on Mrs. Piozzi's
second marriage.-ED.

(281) "Original Love-letters between a Lady of Quality and a
Person of Inferior Station." Dublin, 1784.  Though by no means
devoid of "nonsense and romance," the little book is not
altogether undeserving of Colonel Digby's encomium.  The story is
very slight, and concludes, quite unnecessarily and rather
unexpectedly, with the death of the gentleman, just as his good
fortune seems assured.-ED.

(282) Robert Raikes, who was born at Gloucester in 1735, was a
printer and the son of a printer.  His father was proprietor of
the "Gloucester journal."  In conjunction with the Rev.  Mr.
Stocks, Raikes founded the institution of Sunday Schools in 1781.
He died at Gloucester in 1811.-ED.

(283) "Cui Bono? or, an Inquiry what Benefits can arise either to
the English or the Americans, the French, Spaniards, or Dutch,
from the greatest victories, or successes, in the present War,
being a Series of Letters, addressed to Monsieur Necker, late
Controller- General of the Finances of France," By Josiah Tucker,
D.D., published at Gloucester, 1781.  The pamphlet was written in
the advocacy of a general peace, and attracted much attention.
The third edition appeared in 1782.-ED,

(284) Fanny alludes to an old adventure of Baretti's.  He was
accosted in the Haymarket by a prostitute, October 6, 1769.  The
woman was importunate, and the irritable Italian struck her on
the hand; upon which three men came up and attacked him.  He then
drew a dagger in self defence, and mortally wounded one of his
assailants.  Baretti was tried at the Old Bailey for murder,
October 20, and acquitted; Johnson, Burke, and Garrick appearing
as witnesses to his character.-ED.

(285) With all Fanny's partiality for the "sweet queen," the
evidences of that sweet creature's selfishness keep turning up in
a very disagreeable manner-ED.

(286)) "The Country Girl," Which is still occasionally performed,
is an adaptation by Garrick of one of the most brilliant, and
most indecent, of Restoration comedies--Wycherley's "Country
Wife." Mrs. Jordan played the part of "Peggy," the "Margery
Punchwife" of Wycherley's play.  It was in this part that she
made her first appearance in London, at Drury Lane, October 18,
1785.  She was one of the most admired actresses of her time.
Genest, who saw her, writes of her, "As an actress she never had
a superior in her proper line Mrs. Jordan's Country Girl, Romp,
Miss Hoyden, and all characters of that description were
exquisite--in breeches parts no actress can be put in competition
with her but Mrs. Woffington, and to Mrs. Woffington she was as
superior in point of voice as Mrs. Woffington was superior to her
in beauty" (viii. p. 430).  Mrs. Jordan died at St. Cloud, July
5, 1816, aged fifty.  There is an admirable portrait of her by
Romney in the character of the "Country Girl."-ED.

(287) See ante, vol. i., p. 151.-ED.

(288) Fanny's cousin, the son of Dr. Burney's brother, Richard
Burney of Worcester.-ED.

(289) The poem in question is the "Ode to the Evening Star," the
fifteenth of the first hook of Odes.  Mr. Akenside, having paid
his tear on fair Olympia's virgin tomb, roams in quest of
Philomela's bower, and desires the evening star to send its
golden ray to guide him.  it is pretty, however.  The first
stanza runs as follows:--

"To night retired, the queen of heaven
With young Endymion strays;
And now to Hesper it is given
Awhile to rule the vacant sky,
Till she shall to her lamp supply
A stream of lighter rays."-ED.

(290) Joseph jérome le Français de Lalande, one of the most
distinguished of French astronomers.  He was born in 1732, and
died in 1807.-ED.

(291) Silly: insipid.

(292) 'Tis too much honour."

(293) "'Tis very troublesome, but one must say pretty things to
ladies."



Page 220
                               SECTION 14
                                 (1788-9.)


                            THE KING'S ILLNESS.


[Fanny's vivid account of the king's illness, from the autumn of
1788 to the spring of 1789, needs no recommendation to the
reader.  It requires only to be supplemented by a very brief
sketch of the consequent proceedings in Parliament, which excited
so much foolish indignation in the royal household, and in Fanny
herself.  That she should display more feeling than judgment
under circumstances so affecting, was, perhaps, only to be
expected, but it is none the less evident, from certain passages
in the " Diary, that the tainted Court atmosphere had already
clouded, to some extent, her naturally clear understanding.  The
insanity of a sovereign is, to her, a purely private and personal
matter, with respect to which the only business of the public is
to offer up prayers for his majesty's speedy recovery.  That
ministers should take steps to provide for the performance of the
royal functions in government, during the period of the king's
incapacity, is an act of effrontery at which she wants words to
express her indignation.  Mrs. Schwellenberg, who thought it
treason to say that the King was ever at all indisposed, was
scarcely more unreasonable in this particular than Miss Fanny
Burney, who shuddered, with sentimental horror, at the mention of
a Regency Bill.

About the commencement of November, 1788, there was no longer any
doubt as to the serious nature of the king's malady.  At the
meeting of Parliament the prime minister, Mr. Pitt, Moved that a
committee be appointed to examine the physicians attendant upon
his majesty.  This motion was agreed to, and on the 10th of
December the report of the committee was laid upon the table of
the House.  The physicians agreed that his Majesty was then
totally incapable of attending to public business.  They agreed
also in holding Out strong hopes of his ultimate recovery, but
none of them would venture to give any opinion as to the probable
duration of his derangement.  Upon this, Mr. Pitt

Page 221

moved for a committee to examine and report upon such precedents
as might be found of proceedings in cases of the interruption,
from any cause, of the personal exercise of the royal authority.
The motion was strenuously resisted by the opposition, headed by
Mr. Fox, who argued that whenever the sovereign was incapacitated
from performing the functions of his office, the heir-apparent,
if of full age and capacity, had an inalienable right to act as
his substitute.  This doctrine seems certainly inconsistent with
the liberal principles professed by the opposition, but it will
be remembered that at this time the Prince of Wales was
politically in alliance with that party, and that he was on terms
of friendship with Mr. Fox himself.  On the other hand, Pitt
protested that in such circumstances the heir-apparent had no
more claim to exercise, as a matter of right, the royal
functions, than any other Subject of the crown ; and that it
belonged only to the two Houses of Parliament to make such
provision for supplying the deficiency in the government as they
should think proper.  As to the person of the Regent there was no
dispute ; the question was, simply, whether the Prince of Wales
should assume the Regency in his own right, or by the authority
of Parliament.

Pitt's motion being carried, the committee was accordingly
appointed, and proceeded at once to make their examination and
report.  The prime minister then (December 16) moved two
resolutions, declaring, firstly, that the king was incapable of
performing the functions of his office, and, secondly, that it
was the duty of Parliament to provide for the exercise of those
functions.  In spite of Fox's opposition both resolutions were
carried, and a third resolution was moved by Pitt, and passed
(December 23), empowering the lord chancellor to affix the great
seal to the intended Regency Bill.

Early in January, 1789, a fresh examination of the physicians Was
voted, but gave no more definite hopes of an early recovery. Pitt
now wrote to the Prince of Wales, informing him of the plan
intended to be pursued : that the prince should be invested with
the authority of Regent, under certain restrictions, regarding
especially the granting of peerages, offices, or pensions ; and
that the care of the king's person and the control of the royal
household should remain with the queen.  The prince, in reply,
expressed his readiness to accept the Regency, while protesting
strongly against the proposed limitations of his authority ; and
on the 16th of January, a bill, in which the prime ministers
scheme was embodied, was introduced into the House.  The question
was actively debated in both Houses, until, in the latter part of
February, the king's recovery put a stop to further
proceedings.-ED.]

Page 222
                   UNCERTAIN STATE OF THE KING's HEALTH.

Kew, Friday, Oct. 17.-Our return to Windsor is postponed till to-
morrow.  The king is not well; he has not been quite well some
time, yet nothing I hope alarming, though there is an uncertainty
as to his complaint not very satisfactory; so precious, too, is
his health.

Oct. 18.-The king was this morning better.  My royal mistress
told me Sir George Baker(294) was to settle whether we returned
to Windsor to-day or to-morrow.

Sunday, Oct. 19.-The Windsor journey is again postponed, and the
king is but very indifferent.  Heaven preserve him! there is
something unspeakably alarming in his smallest indisposition.  I
am very much with the queen, who, I see, is very uneasy, but she
talks not of it.

We are to stay here some time longer, and so unprepared were we
for more than a day or two, that our distresses are prodigious,
even for clothes to wear; and as to books, there are not three
amongst us; and for company only Mr. de Luc and Miss Planta; and
so, in mere desperation for employment, I have just begun a
tragedy.(295)  We are now in so spiritless a situation that my
mind would bend to nothing less sad, even in fiction.  But I am
very glad something of this kind has occurred to me; it may while
away the tediousness of this unsettled, unoccupied, unpleasant
period.

Oct. 20.-The king was taken very ill in the night, and we have
all been cruelly frightened - but it went off, and, thank heaven!
he is now better.

I had all my morning devoted to receiving inquiring visits.  Lady
Effingham, Sir George Howard, Lady Frances Howard, all came from
Stoke to obtain news of the king; his least illness spreads in a
moment.  Lady Frances Douglas came also.  She is wife of the
Archibald Douglas who caused the famous Hamilton trial in the
House of Peers, for his claim to the Douglas name.(296)  She is
fat, and dunch, and heavy, and ugly; otherwise, they say,
agreeable enough.

Page 223

Mr. Turbulent has been sent for, and he enlivens the scene
somewhat.  He is now all he should be, and so altered ! scarce a
flight left.

Oct. 21.-The good and excellent king is again better, and we
expect to remove to Windsor in a day or two.

Oct. 23.-The king continues to mend, thank God!  Saturday we hope
to return to Windsor.  Had not this composition fit seized me,
societyless, and bookless, and viewless as I am, I know not how I
could have whiled away my being; but my tragedy goes on, and
fills up all vacancies.

Oct. 25.-Yesterday was so much the same, I have not marked it;
not so to-day.  The king was so much better that our Windsor
journey at length took place, with permission of Sir George
Baker, the only physician his majesty will admit.  Miss Cambridge
was with me to the last moment.

I have been hanging up a darling remembrance of my revered,
incomparable Mrs. Delany.  Her "Sacharissa" is now over my
chimney.  I could not at first bear it, but now I look at it, and
call her back to my eye's mind perpetually.  This, like the
tragedy I have set about, suits the turn of things in this
habitation.

I had a sort of conference with his Majesty, or rather I was the
object to whom he spoke, with a manner so uncommon, that a high
fever alone could account for it, a rapidity, a hoarseness of
voice, a volubility, an earnestness--a vehemence, rather--it
startled me inexpressibly; yet with a graciousness exceeding even
all I ever met with before--it was almost kindness!

Heaven--Heaven preserve him! The queen grows more

Page 224

and more uneasy.  She alarms me sometimes for herself, at other
times she has a sedateness that wonders me still more.

Sunday, Oct. 26-The king was prevailed upon not to go to chapel
this morning.  I met him in the passage from the queen's room; he
stopped me, and conversed upon his health near half-an-hour,
still with that extreme quickness of Speech and manner that
belongs to fever; and he hardly sleeps, he tells me, one minute
all night; indeed, if he recovers not his rest, a most delirious
fever seems to threaten him.  He is all agitation, all emotion,
yet all benevolence and goodness, even to a degree that makes it
touching to hear him speak.  He assures everybody of his health;
he seems only fearful to give uneasiness to others, yet certainly
he is better than last night.  Nobody speaks of his illness, nor
what they think of it.

Oct. 29.-The dear and good king again gains ground, and the queen
becomes easier.

To-day Miss Planta told me she heard Mr. Fairly was confined at
Sir R- F--'s, and therefore she would now lay any wager he was to
marry Miss F--.(297)

In the evening I inquired what news of him of General Bude: he
told me he was still confined at a friend's house, but avoided
naming where--probably from suggesting that, however little truth
there may yet have been in the report, more may belong to it from
this particular intercourse.



                   THE KING COMPLAINS OF WANT OF SLEEP.

Nov. 1.-Our king does not advance in amendment; he grows so weak
that he walks like a gouty man, yet has such spirits that he has
talked away his voice, and is so hoarse it is painful to hear
him.  The queen is evidently in great uneasiness.  God send him
better!

She read to me to-day a lecture of Hunter's.  During the reading,
twice, at pathetic passages, my poor queen shed tears.  "How
nervous I am?" she cried; "I am quite a fool! Don't you think
so?"

No, ma'am," was all I dared answer.

She revived, however, finished the lecture, and went upstairs and
played upon the Princess Augusta's harpsichord.

The king was hunting.  Her anxiety for his return was

Page 225

greater than ever.  The moment he arrived he sent a page to
desire to have coffee and take his bark in the queen's dressing-
room.  She said she would pour it out herself, and sent to
inquire how he drank it.

The king is very sensible of the great change there is in
himself, and of her disturbance at it.  It seems, but heaven
avert it! a threat of a total breaking up of the constitution.
This, too, seems his own idea.  I was present at his first seeing
Lady Effingham on his return to Windsor this last time.  "My dear
Effy," he cried, "you see me, all at once, an old man."
I was so much affected by this exclamation, that I wished to run
out of the room.  Yet I could not but recover when Lady
Effingham, in her well-meaning but literal way, composedly
answered, "We must all grow old, sir,- -I am sure I do."

He then produced a walking-stick which he had just ordered.  "He
could not," he said, "get on without it; his strength seemed
diminishing hourly."

He took the bark, he said But the queen," he cried, "is my
physician, and no man need have a better; she is my friend, and
no Man can have a better."

How the queen commanded herself I cannot conceive; but there was
something so touching in this speech, from his hoarse voice and
altered countenance, that it overset me very much.

Nor can I ever forget him in what passed this night.  When I came
to the queen's dressing-room he was still with her.  He
constantly conducts her to it before he retires to his own.  He
was begging her not to speak to him when he got to his room, that
he might fall asleep, as he felt great want of that refreshment.
He repeated this desire, I believe, at least a hundred times,
though, far enough from need Ing it, the poor queen never uttered
one syllable! He then applied to me, saying he was really very
well, except in that one particular, that he could not sleep.

The kindness and benevolence of his manner all this time was most
penetrating: he seemed to have no anxiety but to set the queen at
rest, and no wish but to quiet and give pleasure to all around
him, To me, he never yet spoke with such excess of benignity: he
appeared even solicitous to satisfy me that he should do well,
and to spare all alarm; but there was a hurry in his manner and
voice that indicated sleep to be

page 226

indeed wanted.  Nor could I, all night, forbear foreseeing "He
sleeps now, or to-morrow he will be surely delirious!"

Sunday, Nov. 2.-The king was better, and prevailed upon to give
up going to the early prayers.  The queen and princesses went.
After they were gone, and I was following towards my room, the
king called after me, and he kept me in discourse a full half
hour nearly all the time they were away.

It was all to the same purport; that he was well, but wanted more
rest ; yet he said he had slept the last night like a child.  But
his manner, still, was so touchingly kind, so softly
gracious, that it doubled my concern to see him so far from well.


                          DISTRESS OF THE QUEEN.

Nov. 3.--We are all here in a most uneasy state.  The king is
better and worse so frequently, and changes so, daily, backwards
and forwards, that everything is to be apprehended, if his nerves
are not some way quieted.  I dreadfully fear he is on the eve of
some severe fever.  The queen is almost overpowered with some
secret terror.  I am affected beyond all expression in her
presence, to see what struggles she makes to support serenity.
To-day she gave up the conflict when I was alone with her, and
burst into a violent fit of tears.  It was very, very terrible to
see!  How did I wish her a Susan or a Fredy!  To unburthen her
loaded mind would be to relieve it from all but inevitable
affliction.  O, may heaven in its mercy never, never drive me to
that solitary anguish more!- I have tried what it would do; I
speak from bitter recollection of past melancholy experience.

Sometimes she walks up and down the room without uttering a word,
but shaking her head frequently, and in evident distress and
irresolution.  She is often closeted with Miss Goldsworthy, of
whom, I believe, she makes inquiry how her brother has found the
king, from time to time.

The princes both came to Kew, in several visits to the king.  The
Duke of York has also been here, and his fond father could hardly
bear the pleasure of thinking him anxious for his health.  "So
good," he says "is Frederick!"

To-night, indeed, at tea-time, I felt a great shock, in hearing,
from General Budé, that Dr, Heberden had been called in.  It is
true more assistance seemed much wanting, yet the king's rooted
aversion to physicians makes any new-comer tremen-

Page 227

dous.  They said, too, it was merely for counsel, not that his
majesty was worse.

Nov. 4.-Passed much the same as the days preceding it, the queen
in deep distress, the king in a state almost incomprehensible,
and all the house uneasy and alarmed.  The Drawing-room was again
put off, and a steady residence seemed fixed at Windsor.

Nov. 5.-I found my poor royal mistress, in the morning, sad and
sadder still; something horrible seemed impending, and I saw her
whole resource was in religion.  We had talked lately much upon
solemn Subjects, and she appeared already preparing herself to be
resigned for whatever might happen.

I was still wholly unsuspicious of the greatness of the cause she
had for dread.  Illness, a breaking up of the constitution, the
payment of sudden infirmity and premature old age for the waste
of unguarded health and strength,--these seemed to me the threats
awaiting her; and great and grievous enough, yet how short of the
fact!

I had given up my walks some days; I was too uneasy to quit the
house while the queen remained at home, and she now never left
it.  Even Lady Effingham, the last two days, could not obtain
admission; She Could only hear from a page how the royal family
went on.

At noon the king went out in his chaise, with the princess royal,
for an airing.  I looked from my window to see him; he was all
smiling benignity, but gave so many orders to the postilions, and
got in and out of the carriage twice, with such agitation, that
again my fear of a great fever hanging over him grew more and
more powerful.  Alas! how little did I imagine I should see him
no more for so long--so black a period!

When I went to my poor queen, still worse and worse I found her
spirits.  She had been greatly offended by some anecdote in a
newspaper--the "Morning Herald"--relative to the king's
indisposition.  She declared the printer should be called to
account.  She bid me burn the paper, and ruminated upon who could
be employed to represent to the editor that he must answer at his
peril any further such treasonable paragraphs.  I named to her
Mr. Fairly, her own servant, and one so peculiarly fitted for any
office requiring honour and discretion.  "Is he here, then?" she
cried.  "No," I answered, but he was expected in a few days.

I saw her concurrence with this proposal.  The princess royal
soon returned.  She came in cheerfully, and gave, in

Page 228

German, a history of the airing, and one that seemed Comforting.
Soon after, suddenly arrived the Prince of Wales.  He came into
the room.- He had just quitted Brighthelmstone.  Something
passing within seemed to render this meeting awfully distant on
both sides.  She asked if he should not return to
Brighthelmstone?         He answered yes, the next day, He
desired to speak with her          they retired together.


                  FIRST OUTBURST OF THE KING's DELIRIUM.

I had but just reached my own room, deeply musing on the state
of' things, when a chaise stopped at the rails; and I saw Mr.
Fairly and his son Charles alight, and enter the house.  He
walked lamely, and seemed not yet recovered from his late attack.
Though most happy to see him at this alarming time, when I
knew he could be most useful, as there is no one to whom the
queen opens so confidentially upon her affairs, I had yet a fresh
stair to see, by his anticipated arrival, though still lame, that
he must have been sent for, and hurried hither.

Only Miss Planta dined with me.  We were both nearly silent: I
was shocked at I scarcely knew what, and she seemed to know too
much for speech.  She stayed with me till six o'clock, but
nothing passed, beyond general solicitude that the king might get
better.

Meanwhile, a stillness the most uncommon reigned over the whole
house.  Nobody stirred ; not a voice was heard - not a step, not
a motion.  I could do nothing but watch, without knowing for what
: there seemed a strangeness in the house most extraordinary.

At seven o'clock     Columb came to tell me that the music was
all forbid, and      the musicians ordered away !          This
was the last step to be expected, so fond as his majesty is -of
his concert, and I thought it might have rather soothed him: I
could not understand the prohibition; all seemed stranger and
stranger.

Very late came General Budé.  He looked extremely uncomfortable.
 Later still came Colonel Goldsworthy: his countenance all gloom,
and his voice scarce articulating no or yes.  General Grenville
was gone to town.  General Bud  asked me if I had seen Mr.
Fairly; and last Of all, at length, he also entered.  How grave
he looked, how shut up in himself! A silent bow was his only
salutation
Page 229

how changed I thought it,--and how fearful a meeting, SO long
expected as a solace!

Colonel Goldsworthy was called away: I heard his voice whispering
some time in the passage, but he did not return.  Various small
speeches now dropped, by which I found the house was all in
disturbance, and the king in some strange way worse, and the
queen taken ill!

At length, General Budé said he would go and see if any one was
in the music-room.  Mr. Fairly said he thought he had better not
accompany him, for as he had not yet been seen, his appearance
might excite fresh emotion.  The general agreed, and went.

We were now alone.  But I could not speak: neither did Mr.
Fairly.  I worked---I had begun a hassock for my Fredy.  A long
and serious pause made me almost turn sick with anxious wonder
and fear, and an inward trembling totally disabled me from asking
the actual situation of things; if I had not had my work, to
employ my eyes and hands, I must have left the room to quiet
myself.

I fancy he penetrated into all this, though, at first, he had
concluded me informed of everything; but he now, finding me
silent, began an inquiry whether I was yet acquainted how bad
all was become, and how ill the king? I really had no utterance
for very alarm, but my look was probably sufficient; he kindly
saved me any questions, and related to me the whole of the
mysterious horror!

O my dear friends, what a history! The king, at dinner, had
broken forth into positive delirium, which long had been menacing
all who saw him most closely; and the queen was so overpowered as
to fall into violent hysterics.  All the princesses were in
misery, and the Prince of Wales had burst into tears.  No one
knew what was to follow-- no one could conjecture the event.

He spoke of the poor queen, in terms of the most tender
compassion; he pitied her, he said, from the bottom of his soul;
and all her sweet daughters, the lovely princesses--there was no
knowing to what we might look forward for them all!

I was an almost silent listener ; but, having expressed himself
very warmly for all the principal sufferers, he kindly, and with
interest, examined me.  "How," he cried, "are You? Are you
strong? are you stout? can you go through such scenes as these?
you do not look much fitted for them."

Page 230
"I shall do very well," I cried, "for, at a time such as this, I
shall surely forget myself utterly.  The queen will be all to me.
 I shall hardly, I think, feel myself at liberty to be unhappy!"
. . .



                             AN ANXIOUS NIGHT.

Mr. Fairly stayed with me all the evening, during which we heard
no voice, no sound! all was deadly still!

At ten o'clock I said, " I must go to my own room, to be in
waiting." He determined upon remaining downstairs, in the
equerries' apartment, there to wait some intelligence.  We parted
in mutual expectation of dreadful tidings.  In separating, he
took my hand, and earnestly recommended me to keep myself stout
and firm.

If this beginning of the night was affecting, what did it not
grow afterwards Two long hours I waited-alone, in silence, in
ignorance, in dread! I thought they would never be over; at
twelve o'clock I seemed to have spent two whole days in waiting.
I then opened my door, to listen, in the passage, if anything
seemed stirring.
Not a sound could I hear.  My apartment seemed wholly separated
from life and motion.  Whoever was in the house kept at the other
end, and not even a servant crossed the stairs or passage by my
rooms.

I would fain have crept on myself, anywhere in the world, for
some inquiry, or to see but a face, and hear a voice, but I did
not dare risk losing a sudden summons.  I re-entered my room and
there passed another endless hour, in conjectures too horrible to
relate.

A little after one, I heard a step--my door opened--and a page
said I must come to the queen.  I could hardly get along--hardly
force myself into the room.  dizzy I felt, almost to falling.
But, the first shock passed, I became more collected.  Useful,
indeed, proved the previous lesson of the evening : it had
stilled, If not fortified my mind, which had else, in a scene
Such is this, been all tumult and emotion.

My poor royal mistress! never can I forget her countenance--pale,
ghastly pale she looked; she was seated to be undressed, and
attended by Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave and Miss Goldsworthy ; her
whole frame was disordered, yet she was still and quiet.  These
two ladies assisted me to undress her, or rather I assisted them,
for they were firmer, from being

Page 231

longer present; my shaking hands and blinded eyes could scarce be
of any use.  I gave her some camphor julep, which had been
ordered her by Sir George Baker.  "How cold I am!" she cried, and
put her hand on mine; marble it felt! and went to my heart's
core!

The king, at the instance of Sir George Baker, had consented to
sleep in the next apartment, as the queen was ill.  For himself,
he would listen to nothing.  Accordingly, a bed was put up for
him, by his own order, in the queen's second dressing-room,
immediately adjoining to the bed-room.  He would not be further
removed.  Miss Goldsworthy was to sit up with her, by the king's
direction.

I would fain have remained in the little dressing-room, on the
other side the bed-room, but she would not permit it.  She
ordered Sandys, her wardrobe-woman, in the place of Mrs.
Thielky, to sit up there.  Lady Elizabeth also pressed to stay;
but we were desired to go to our own rooms.

How reluctantly did I come away ! how hardly to myself leave her!
Yet I went to bed, determined to preserve my strength to the
utmost of my ability, for the service of my unhappy mistress.  I
could not, however, sleep. I do not suppose an eye was closed in
the house all night.

Nov. 6.-I rose at six, dressed in haste by candle-light, and
unable to wait for my summons in a suspense so awful, I stole
along the passage in the dark, a thick fog intercepting all faint
light, to see if I could meet with Sandys, or any one, to tell me
how the night had passed.

When I came to the little dressing-room, I stopped, irresolute
what to do.  I heard men's voices; I was seized with the most
cruel alarm at such a sound in her majesty's dressing-room.  I
waited some time, and then the door opened, and I saw Colonel
Goldsworthy and Mr. Batterscomb.(298)  I was relieved from my
first apprehension, yet shocked enough to see them there at this
early hour.  They had both sat up there all night, as well as
Sandys.  Every page, both of the king and queen, had also sat up,
dispersed in the passages and ante-rooms! and O what horror in
every face I met! I waited here, amongst them, till Sandys was
ordered by the queen to carry her a pair of gloves.  I could not
resist

Page 232

the opportunity to venture myself before her.  I glided into the
room, but stopped at the door: she was in bed, sitting up; Miss
Goldsworthy was on a stool by her side! I feared approaching
without permission, yet could not prevail with myself to retreat.
 She was looking down, and did not see me.  Miss Goldsworthy,
turning round, said, "'Tis Miss Burney, ma'am."

She leaned her head forward, and in a most soft manner, said,
"Miss Burney, how are you?"

Deeply affected, I hastened up to her, but, in trying to speak,
burst into an irresistible torrent of tears.

My dearest friends, I do it at this moment again, and can hardly
write for them; yet I wish you to know all this piercing history
right.

She looked like death--colourless and wan; but nature is
infectious; the tears gushed from her own eyes, and a perfect
agony of weeping ensued, which, once begun, she could not stop;
she did not, indeed, try; for when it subsided, and she wiped her
eyes, she said, "I thank you, Miss Burney--you have made me cry--
it is a great relief to me--I had not been able to cry before,
all this night long." O, what a scene followed! what a scene was
related! The king, in the middle of the night, had insisted upon
seeing if his queen was not removed from the house and he had
come into her room, with a candle in his hand, opened the bed-
curtains, and satisfied himself she was there, and Miss
Goldsworthy by her side.  This observance of his directions had
much soothed him; but he stayed a full half hour, and the depth
of terror during that time no words can paint.  The fear of such
another entrance was now so strongly upon the nerves of the poor
queen, that she could hardly support herself.


                      THE KING'S DELIRIOUS CONDITION.

The king-the royal sufferer-was still in the next room, attended
by Sir George Baker and Dr. Heberden, and his pages, with Colonel
Goldsworthy occasionally, and as he called for him. He kept
talking unceasingly; his voice was so lost in hoarseness and
weakness, it was rendered almost inarticulate; but its tone was
still all benevolence--all kindness--all touching graciousness.

It was thought advisable the queen should not rise, lest the king
should be offended that she did not go to him; at present

Page 233

he was content, because he conceived her to be nursing for her
illness.

But what a situation for her!  She would not let me leave her
now; she made me remain In the room, and ordered me to sit down.
I was too trembling to refuse.  Lady Elizabeth soon joined us.
We all three stayed with her; she frequently bid me listen, to
hear what the king was saying or doing.  I did, and carried the
best accounts I could manage, without deviating from truth,
except by some omissions.  Nothing could be so afflicting as this
task; even now, it brings fresh to my ear his poor exhausted
voice.  "I am nervous," he cried; "I am not ill, but I am
nervous: if you would know what is the matter with me, I am
nervous.  But I love you both very well; if you would tell me
truth: I love Dr. Heberden best, for he has not told me a lie:
Sir George has told me a lie--a white lie, he says, but I hate a
white lie.  If you will tell me a lie, let it be a black lie!"

This was what he kept saying almost constantly, mixed in with
other matter, but always returning, and in a voice that truly
will never cease vibrating in my recollection.

The queen permitted me to make her breakfast and attend her, and
was so affectingly kind and gentle in her distress, that I felt a
tenderness of sorrow for her that almost devoted my whole mind to
her alone! Miss Goldsworthy was a fixture at her side; I,
therefore, provided her breakfast also.

Lady Elizabeth was sent out on inquiries of Colonel Goldsworthy,
and Mr. Batterscomb, and the pages, every ten minutes; while I,
at the same intervals, was ordered to listen to what passed in
the room, and give warning if anything seemed to threaten another
entrance. . .     .

The queen bid me bring the prayer book and read the morning
service to her.  I could hardly do it, the poor voice from the
next room was so perpetually in my ears.

When I came to my room, about twelve o'clock, for some breakfast,
I found a letter from Lady Carmarthen.  It was an answer to my
congratulation upon her marriage, and written with honest
happiness and delight.  She frankly calls herself the luckiest of
all God's creatures ; and this, if not elegant, is sincere, and I
hope will be permanently her opinion.

While swallowing my breakfast, standing and in haste, and the
door ajar, I heard Mr. Fairly's voice, saying, "Is Miss Burney
there? is she alone?" and then he sent in Columb, to inquire if
he might come and ask me how I did.

Page 234
I received him with as much gladness as I could then feel, but it
was a melancholy reception.  I consulted with him upon many
points in which I wanted counsel : he is quick and deep at once
in expedients where anything, is to be done, and simple and clear
in explaining himself where he thinks it is best to do nothing.
Miss Goldsworthy herself had once stolen out to Consult with him.
He became, indeed, for all who belonged to the queen, from this
moment the oracle.


                    THE KING REFUSES TO SEE DR. WARREN.

Dr. Warren(299) had been sent for express, in the middle of the
night, at the desire of Sir George Baker, because he had been
taken ill himself, and felt unequal to the whole toll.

I returned speedily to the room of woe.  The arrival of the
physicians was there grievously awaited, for Dr.  Heberden and
Sir George would now decide upon nothing till Dr. Warren came.
The poor queen wanted something very positive to pass, relative
to her keeping away, which seemed thought essential at this time,
though the courage to assert it was wanting In everybody.

The princesses sent to ask leave to come to their mother.  She
burst into tears, and declared she could neither see them, nor
pray, while in this dreadful situation, expecting every moment to
be broken in upon, and quite uncertain in what manner, yet
determined not to desert her apartment, except by express
direction from the physicians.  Who could tell to what height the
delirium might rise? There was no constraint, no power: all
feared the worst, yet none dared take any measures for security.

The princes also sent word they were at her majesty's command,
but she shrunk still more from this Interview: it filled her with
a thousand dreadful sensations, too obvious to be wholly hid.

At length news was brought that Dr. Warren was arrived.  I never
felt so rejoiced: I could have run out to welcome him with
rapture.  With what cruel impatience did we then wait to hear his
sentence! An impatience how fruitless!  It ended in information
that he had not seen the king, who refused him admittance.

Page 235

This was terrible.  But the king was never so despotic; no one
dared oppose him.  He would not listen to a word, though, when
unopposed, he was still all gentleness and benignity to every one
around him.  Dr. Warren was then planted where he could hear his
voice, and all that passed, and receive Intelligence concerning
his pulse, etc., from Sir George Baker.



            THE QUEEN'S ANXIETY TO HEAR DR. WARREN'S OPINION.
We now expected every moment Dr. Warren would bring her majesty
his opinion ; but he neither came nor sent.  She waited in dread
incessant.  She sent for Sir George--he would not speak alone:
she sent for Mr. Hawkins, the household surgeon; but all referred
to Dr. Warren.

Lady Elizabeth and Miss Goldsworthy earnestly pressed her to
remove to a more distant apartment, where he might not hear the
unceasing voice of the unhappy king ; but she would only rise and
go to the 'little dressing-room, there to wait in her
night-clothes Dr. Warren's determination what step she should
take.

At length Lady Elizabeth learnt among the pages that Dr. Warren
had quitted his post of watching.  The poor queen now, in a
torrent of tears, prepared herself for seeing him.

He came not.

All astonished and impatient, Lady Elizabeth was sent out on
inquiries.  She returned, and said Dr. Warren was gone.

"Run! stop him!" was the queen's next order.  "Let him but let me
know what I am to do."

Poor, poor queen! how I wept to hear those words!

Abashed and distressed, poor Lady Elizabeth returned.  She had
seen Colonel Goldsworthy, and heard Dr. Warren, -with the other
two physicians, had left the house too far to be recalled they
were gone over to the Castle, to the Prince of Wales.

I think a deeper blow I have never witnessed.  Already to become
but second, even for the king! The tears were now wiped;
indignation arose, with pain, the severest pain, of every
species.


              THE QUEEN REMOVES TO MORE DISTANT APARTMENTS.
In about a quarter of an hour Colonel Goldsworthy sent in to beg
an audience.  It was granted, a long cloak only being thrown over
the queen.  He now brought the opinion of all the physicians in
consultation, " That her majesty would re-
Page 236

move to a more distant apartment, since the king would
undoubtedly be worse from the agitation of seeing her, and there
Could be no possibility to prevent it while she remained so
near."

She instantly agreed, but with what bitter anguish!  Lady
Elizabeth, Miss Goldsworthy, and myself attended her; she went to
an apartment in the same row, but to which there Was no entrance
except by its own door.  It consisted of only two rooms, a
bed-chamber and a dressing-room.  They are appropriated to the
lady-in-waiting, when she is here.

At the entrance into this new habitation the poor wretched queen
once more gave way to a perfect agony of grief and affliction;
while the words "What will become of me!  What will become of me
! " uttered with the most piercing lamentation, struck deep and
hard into all our hearts.  Never can I forget their desponding
sound ; they implied such complicated apprehensions.

Instantly now the princesses were sent for.  The three elder
hastened down.  O, what a meeting!  They all, from a habit that
has become a second nature, struggling to repress all outward
grief, though the queen herself, wholly overcome, wept even
aloud.  They all went into the bedroom, and the queen made a
slight dressing, but only wore a close gauze cap, and her long
dressing gown, which is a dimity chemise.

I was then sent back to the little dressing-room, for something
that was left; as I opened the door, I almost ran against a
gentleman close to it in the passage.

"Is the queen here?" he cried, and I then saw the Prince of
Wales.

"Yes," I answered, shuddering at this new scene for her "should I
tell her majesty your royal highness is here?"

This I said lest he should surprise her.  But he did not intend
that: he was profoundly respectful, and consented to wait at the
door while I went in, but called me back, as I turned away, to
add, "You will be so good to say I am come by her orders."

She wept a deluge of tears when I delivered my commission, but
instantly admitted him.  I then retreated.  The other two ladies
went to Lady Elizabeth's room, which is next the queen's new
apartments.

In the passage I was again stopped; it was by Mr. Fairly.  I
would have hurried on, scarce able to speak, but he desired to
know how the queen did.  "Very bad," was all I could say,

Page 237
and on I hastened to my own room, which, the next minute, I would
as eagerly have hastened to quit, from its distance from all that
was going forward ; but now once the prince had entered the
queen's rooms, I could go thither no more unsummoned.

Miserable, lonely, and filled with dreadful conjectures, I
remained here till a very late dinner brought Miss Planta to the
dining-parlour, where I joined her.  After a short and dismal
meal we immediately parted : she to wait in the apartments of the
princesses above-stairs, in case of being wanted; I to my own
solitary parlour.

The Prince of Wales and Duke of York stayed here all the day, and
were so often in and out of the queen's rooms that no one could
enter them but by order.  The same etiquette is observed when the
princes are with the queen as when the king is there-no
interruption whatever is made.  I now, therefore, lost my only
consolation at this calamitous time, that of attending my poor
royal mistress.


                         A VISIT FROM MR. FAIRLY.

Alone wholly, without seeing a human being, or gathering any, the
smallest intelligence of what was going forwards, I remained till
tea-time.  Impatient then for information, I planted myself in
the eating-parlour; but no one came.  Every minute seemed an
hour.  I grew as anxious for the tea society as heretofore I had
been anxious to escape it; but so late it grew, and so hopeless,
that Columb came to propose bringing in the water.

No; for I could swallow nothing voluntarily.

In a few minutes he came again, and with the compliments of Mr.
Fairly, who desired him to tell me he would wait Upon me to tea
whenever I pleased.

A little surprised at this single message, but most truly
rejoiced, I returned my compliments, with an assurance that all
time was the same to me.  He came directly, and indeed his very
sight, at this season of still horror and silent suspense, was a
repose to my poor aching eyes.

"You will see," he said, "nobody else.  The physicians being now
here, Colonel Goldsworthy thought it right to order tea for the
whole party in the music-room, which we have now agreed to make
the general waiting-room for us all.  It is near the king, and we
ought always to be at hand."
Page 238

Our tea was very sad.  He gave me no hope Of a short seizure ; he
saw it, in perspective, as long as it was dreadful : perhaps even
worse than long, he thought it--but that he said not.  He related
to me the whole of the day's transactions, but my most dear and
most honourable friends will be the first to forgive me when I
promise that I shall commit nothing to paper on this terrible
event that is told me in confidence.

He did not stay long--he did not think it right to leave his
waiting friends for any time, nor could I wish it, valued as I
know he is by them all, and much as they need his able counsel.
He left me plunged in a deep gloom, yet he was not gloomy
himself; he sees evils as things of course, and bears them,
therefore, as things expected.  But he was tenderly touched for
the poor queen and the princesses.


                        THE KING'S NIGHT WATCHERS.

Not till one in the morning did I see another face, and then I
attended my poor unhappy queen.  She was now fixed in her new
apartments, bed-room and dressing-room, and stirred not a step
but from one to the other.  Fortunately all are upon the
ground-floor, both for king and queen; so are the two Lady
Waldegraves' and mine; the princesses and Miss Planta, as usual,
are upstairs, and the gentlemen lodge above them.

Miss Goldsworthy had now a bed put up in the queen's new
bed-room.  She had by no means health to go on sitting up, and it
had been the poor king's own direction that she should remain
with the queen.  It was settled that Mrs. Sandys and Mrs.
Macenton should alternately sit up in the dressing-room.

The queen would not permit me to take that office, though most
gladly I would have taken any that would have kept me about her.
But she does; not think my strength sufficient. She allowed me
however to stay with her till she was in bed, which I had never
done till now; I never, indeed, had even seen her in her bed-room
till the day before.  She has always had the kindness and
delicacy, to dismiss me from her dressing-room as soon as I have
assisted her with her night-clothes; the wardrobe-woman then was
summoned, and I regularly
made my courtesy.  it was a satisfaction to me, however, now to
leave her the last, and to come to her the first.

Her present dressing-room is also her dining-room, her

Page 239

drawing-room, her sitting-room; she has nothing else but her
bed-room!

I left her with my fervent prayers for better times, and saw her
nearer to composure than I had believed possible in such a
calamity.  She called to her aid her religion, and without it
what, indeed, must have become of her? It was near two in the
morning when I quitted her.

In passing through the dressing-room to come away, I found Miss
Goldsworthy in some distress how to execute a commission of the
queen's: it was to her brother, who was to sit up in a room
adjoining to the king's ; and she was undressed, and knew not how
to go to him, as the princes were to and fro everywhere.  I
offered to call him to her she thankfully accepted the proposal.
I cared not, just then, whom I encountered, so I could make
myself of any use.

When I gently opened the door of the apartment to which I was
directed, I found it was quite filled with gentlemen and
attendants, arranged round it on chairs and sofas in dead
silence.  It was a dreadful start, with which I retreated; for
anything more alarming and shocking could not be conceived! the
poor king within another door, unconscious any one was near him,
and thus watched, by dread necessity, at such an hour of the
night!  I pronounced the words "Colonel Goldsworthy," however,
before I drew back, though I could not distinguish one gentleman
from another, except the two princes, by their stars.

I waited in the next room; but instead of Colonel Goldsworthy, my
call was answered by Mr. Fairly.  I acquainted him with my
errand.  He told me he had himself insisted that Colonel
Goldsworthy should go to bed, as he had sat up all the preceding
night and he had undertaken to supply his place.

I went back to Miss Goldsworthy with this account.  She begged me
to entreat Mr. Fairly would come to her, as she must now make the
commission devolve on him, and could less than ever appear,
herself, as they were all assembled in such a party.

Mr. Fairly, most considerately, had remained in this quiet room
to see if anything more might be wanted, which spared me the
distress of again intruding into the public room.  I begged him
to follow, and we were proceeding to the dressing-room, when I
was stopped by a gentleman, who said, "Does the queen want
anybody?"

Page 240

It was the Prince of Wales.  "Not the queen, sir," I answered, "
but Miss Goldsworthy, has desired to see Mr. Fairly."

He let me pass, but stopped Mr. Fairly; and, as he seemed
inclined to detain him some time, I only told Miss Goldsworthy
what had retarded him, and made off to my own room, and soon
after two o'clock, I believe, I was in bed.


                     A CHANGE IN MISS BURNEYs DUTIES.

Friday, Nov. 7.-I was now arrived at a sort of settled regularity
of life more melancholy than can possibly be described.  I rose
at six, dressed, and hastened to the queen's apartments,
uncalled, and there waited in silence and in the dark till I
heard her move or speak with Miss Goldsworthy, and then presented
myself to the sad bedside of the unhappy queen.  She sent Miss
Goldsworthy early every morning, to make inquiry what sort of
night his majesty had passed; and in the middle of the night she
commonly Also sent for news by the wardrobe-woman, or Miss
Macenton, whichever sat up.

She dismissed Miss Goldsworthy, on my arrival, to dress herself.
Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave accommodated her with her own room for
that purpose.  I had then a long conference with this most
patient sufferer - and equal forbearance and quietness during a
period of suspensive unhappiness never have I seen, never could I
have imagined.

At noon now I never saw her, which I greatly regretted but she
kept on her dressing-gown all day, and the princes were
continually about the passages, so that no one unsummoned dared
approach the queen's apartments.  It was only therefore at night
and morning I could see her - but my heart was with her the
livelong day.  And how long, good heaven! how long that day
became!  Endless I used to think it, for
nothing could I do--to wait and to watch--starting at every
sound, yet revived by every noise.

                 MR. FAIRLY SUCCEEDS IN SOOTHING THE KING.
While I was yet with my poor royal sufferer this morning the
Prince of Wales came hastily into the room.  He apologized for
his intrusion, and then gave a very energetic history of the
preceding night.  It had been indeed most affectingly dreadful !
The king had risen in the middle of the night, and

Page 241

would take no denial to walking into the next room.  There he saw
the large congress I have mentioned : amazed and in
consternation, he demanded what they did there--Much followed
that I have heard since, particularly the warmest éloge on his
dear son Frederick--his favourite, his friend.  "Yes," he cried,
"Frederick is my friend!" and this son was then present amongst
the rest, but not seen!

Sir George Baker was there, and was privately exhorted by the
gentlemen

to lead        the king back to his room; but he had not courage:
he attempted only to speak, and the king penned him in a corner,
told him he was a mere old woman--that he wondered he had ever
followed his advice, for he knew nothing of his complaint, which
was only nervous!

The Prince of Wales, by signs and whispers, would have urged
others to have drawn him away, but no one dared approach him, and
he remained there a considerable time.  "Nor do I know when he
would have been got back," continued the prince, "if at last Mr.
Fairly had not undertaken him.      I am extremely obliged to Mr.
Fairly indeed. He came boldly up to him, and took him by the arm,
and begged him to go to bed, and then drew him along,      and
said he must go. Then he said he would not, and cried    'Who are
you?'  'I am Mr. Fairly, sir,' he answered, 'and your majesty has
been very good to me often, and now I am going to be very good to
you, for you must come to bed, sir: it is necessary to your
life.' And then he was so surprised,      that he let himself be
drawn along just like a child; and so they got him to bed. I
believe else he would have stayed all night.

Mr. Fairly has had some melancholy experience in a case of this
sort, with a very near connexion of his own.       How fortunate
he was present!


                             NEW ARRANGEMENTS.

At noon I had the most sad pleasure of receiving Mr. and Mrs.
Smelt. They had heard in York of the illness of the king, and had
travelled -post to Windsor. Poor worthy, excellent couple!--Ill
and infirm, what did they not suffer from an attack like this--so
wonderfully unexpected upon a patron so adored!

They wished the queen to be acquainted with their arrival, yet
would not let me risk meeting the princes in carrying the news.
Mr. Smelt I saw languished to see his king: he was

Page 242

persuaded he might now repay a part of former benefits, and he
wished to be made his page during his illness, that he might
watch and attend him hourly.

I had had a message in the morning by Mr. Gorton, the clerk of
the kitchen, to tell me the Prince of Wales wished our
dining-parlour to be appropriated to the physicians, both for
their dinner and their consultations.  I was therefore obliged to
order dinner for Miss Planta, and myself in my own
Sitting-parlour, which was now unmaterial, as the equerries did
not come to tea, but continued +altogether in the music-room.

In the evening, of course, came Mr. Fairly, but then it was only
to let me know it would be of course no longer.  He then rang the
bell for my tea-urn, finding I had waited, though he 0 declined
drinking tea with me; but he sat down, and staved half an hour,
telling me the long story he had promised which Was a full detail
of the terrible preceding night.  The transactions of the day
also he related to me, and the designs for the future.  How
alarming were they all!  yet many particulars, he said, he
omitted, merely because they were yet more affecting, and could
be dwelt upon to no purpose.


                     THE PRINCESS AUGUSTA'S BIRTHDAY.

Saturday, Nov. 8-This was, if possible, the saddest day yet
passed: it was the birthday of Princess Augusta, and Mrs. Siddons
had been invited to read a play, and a large party of company to
form the audience.  What a contrast from such an intention was
the event!

When I went, before seven o'clock in the morning, to my most
unhappy royal mistress, the princes were both in the room.  I
retreated to the next apartment till they had finished their
conference.  The Prince of Wales upon these occasions has always
been extremely well-bred and condescending in his manner, which,
in a situation such as mine, is no immaterial circumstance.

The poor queen then spoke to me of the birthday present she had
designed for her most amiable daughter.  She hesitated a little
whether or not to produce it, but at length meekly said, "Yes, go
to Miss Planta and bring it.  Do you think there can be any harm
in giving it now?"

"O, no!" I said, happy to encourage whatever was a little less
gloomy, and upstairs I flew.  I was met by all the poor
princesses and the Duke of York, who inquired if he might go

Page 243

again to the queen.  I begged leave first to execute my
commission.  I did; but so engrossed was my mind with the whole
of this living tragedy, that I so little noticed what it was I
carried as to be now unable to recollect it.  I gave it, however,
to the queen, who then sent for the princesses, and carried her
gift to her daughter, weeping, who received it with a silent
courtesy, kissing and wetting with her gentle tears the hand of
her afflicted mother.


            STRANGE BEHAVIOUR OF THE FIRST GENTLEMAN IN EUROPE.
During my mournful breakfast poor Mr. Smelt arrived from Kew,
where he had now settled himself.  Mr. de Luc also joined us, and
they could neither prevail upon themselves to go away all the
morning.  Mr. Smelt had some thoughts of taking up his abode in
Windsor till the state of things should be more decisive.  The
accounts of the preceding night had been most cruel, and to quit
the spot was scarce supportable to him.  Yet he feared the
princes might disapprove his stay, and he well knew his influence
and welcome at Court was all confined to the sick-room: thence,
there could now issue no mandate.

Yet I encouraged him to stay; so did Mr. de Luc; and while he was
still wavering he saw Dr. Warren in the courtyard, and again
hastened to speak with him.  Before he returned the Prince of
Wales went out and met him; and you may imagine how much I was
pleased to observe from the window that he took him by the arm,
and walked up and down with him.

When he came to us he said the prince had told him he had better
stay, that he might see the queen. He determined, therefore, to
send off an express to Mrs. Smelt, and go and secure an apartment
at the inn.  This was very soothing to me, who so much needed
just such consolation as he could bestow - and I begged he would
come back to dinner, and spend the whole day in my room, during
his stay.

What, however, was my concern and amaze, when, soon after,
hastily returning, he desired to speak to me alone, and, as Mr.
de Luc moved off, told me he was going back immediately to Kew!
He spoke with a tremor that alarmed me. I entreated to know why
such a change?  He then informed
me that the porter, Mr. Humphreys, had refused him re-entrance,
and sent him his great coat ! He had resented this

Page 244

impertinence, and was told it was by the express order of the
prince!  In utter astonishment he then only desired admittance
for one moment to my room, and having acquainted me with this
circumstance, he hurried off, in a state of distress, and
indignation that left me penetrated with both.

>From this time, as the poor king grew worse, general hope seemed
universally to abate; and the Prince of Wales now took the
government of the house into his own hands.  Nothing was done but
by his orders, and he was applied to in every difficulty.  The
queen interfered not in anything - she lived entirely in her two
new rooms, and spent the whole day in patient sorrow and
retirement with her daughters.



                        STRINGENT NEW REGULATIONS.

The next news that reached me, through Mr. de Luc, was, that the
prince had sent his commands to the porter, to admit only four
persons into the house on any pretence whatever these were Mr.
Majendie, Mr. Turbulent, General Harcourt, and Mr. de Luc
himself; and these were ordered to repair immediately to the
equerry-room below stairs, while no one whatsoever was to be
allowed to go to any other apartment.

>From this time commenced a total banishment from all intercourse
out of the house, and an unremitting confinement within its
walls.

Poor Mr. de Luc, however, could not forego coming to my room.  He
determined to risk that, since he was upon the list of those who
might enter the house.  I was glad, because he is a truly good
man, and our sentiments upon this whole melancholy business were
the same.  But otherwise, the weariness of a great length of
visit daily from a person so slow and methodical in discourse, so
explanatory of everything and of nothing, at this agitating
period, was truly painful to endure.  He has often talked to me
till my poor burthened head has seemed lost to all understanding.

I had now, all tea-meetings being over, no means of gaining any
particulars of what was passing, which added so much to the
horror of the situation, that by the evening I was almost
petrified.  Imagine, then, alike my surprise and satisfaction at
a visit from Mr. Fairly.  He had never come to me so
unexpectedly.  I eagerly begged an account of what was going on,
and, with his usual readiness and accuracy, he gave it me in full
detail.  And nothing could be more tragic than all the

Page 245

particulars every species of evil seemed now hanging over this
unhappy family.

He had had his son with him in his room upstairs; "And I had a
good mind," he said, "to have brought him to visit YOU."

I assured him he would have been a very welcome guest; and when
he added that he could no longer have him at the Equerry table to
dinner, as the Prince of Wales now presided there, I invited him
for the next day to mine.

He not only instantly accepted the proposal, but cried, with
great vivacity, "I wish you would invite me too."

I thought he was laughing, but said, "Certainly, if such a thing
might be allowed;" and then, to my almost speechless surprise, he
declared, If I would give him permission, he would dine with me
next day.
He then proceeded to say that the hurry, and fatigue, and violent
animal spirits of the other table quite overpowered him, and a
respite of such a quiet sort would be of essential service to
him.  Yet he paused a little afterwards, upon the propriety of
leaving the Prince of Wales's table, and said "He would first
consult with General Budé, and hear his opinion."
Sunday, Nov. 9.-No one went to church - not a creature now quits
the house: but I believe devotion never less required the aid and
influence of public worship.  For me, I know, I spent almost my
whole time between prayer and watching.  Even my melancholy
resource, my tragedy, was now thrown aside ; misery so actual,
living, and present, was knit too closely around me to allow my
depressed imagination to fancy any woe beyond what my heart felt.

In coming early from the queen's apartment this morning I was
addressed by a gentleman who inquired how I did, by my name; but
my bewilderment made him obliged to tell his own before I could
recollect him.  It was Dr. Warren.

I eagerly expressed my hopes and satisfaction in his attendance
upon the poor king, but he would not enter upon that subject.  I
suppose he feared, from my zeal, some indiscreet questions
concerning his opinion of the case; for he passed by all I could
start, to answer only with speeches relative to myself-of his
disappointment in never meeting me, though residing under the
same roof, his surprise in not dining with me when told he was to
dine in my room, and the strangeness of never seeing me when so
frequently he heard my name.

I could not bring myself to ask him to my apartment, when

Page 246

I saw, by his whole manner, e held it imprudent to speak with me
about the only subject on which I wished to talk--the king; and
just then seeing the Duke of York advancing, I hastily retreated.

While I was dressing, Mr. Fairly rapped at my door.  I sent out
Goter, who brought me his compliments, and, if it would not be
inconvenient to me, he and his son would have the pleasure of
dining with me.

I answered, I should be very glad of their company, as would Miss
Planta.  Miss Goldsworthy had now arranged herself with the Lady
Waldegraves.

Our dinner was as pleasant as a dinner at such a season could be.
Mr. Fairly holds cheerfulness as a duty in the midst of every
affliction that can admit it; and, therefore,, whenever his
animal spirits have a tendency to rise, he encourages and
sustains them, So fond, too, is he of his son, that his very
sight is a cordial to him - and that mild, feeling, amiable boy
quite idolizes his father, looking up to him, hanging on his arm,
and watching his eye to smile and be smiled upon, with a fondness
like that of an infant to its maternal nurse.

Repeatedly Mr. Fairly exclaimed, "What a relief is this, to dine
thus quietly!"

What a relief should I, too, have found it, but for a little
circumstance, which I will soon relate,


                     MRS. SCHWELLENBERG IS BACK AGAIN.

We were still at table, with the dessert, when Columb entered and
announced the sudden return from Weymouth of Mrs. Schwellenberg.

Up we all started; Miss Planta flew out to receive her, and state
the situation of the house; Mr. Fairly, expecting, I believe, she
was coming into my room, hastily made his exit without a word;
his son eagerly scampered after him, and I followed Miss Planta
upstairs.
My reception, however, was such as to make me deem it most proper
to again return to my room.  What an addition this to the gloom
of all ! and to begin at once with harshness and rudeness! I
could hardly tell how to bear it.

Nov. 10.-This was a most dismal day.  The dear and most suffering
king was extremely ill, the queen very wretched, poor Mrs.
Schwellenberg all spasm and horror, Miss Planta all restlessness,
the house all mystery, and my only informant and

Page 247

comforter distanced.  Not a word, the whole day through, did I
hear of what was passing or intending.  Our dinner was worse than
an almost famished fasting; we parted after it, and met no more.
Mrs.  Schwellenberg, who never drinks tea herself, hearing the
general party was given up, and never surmising there had ever
been any particular one, neither desired me to come to her, nor
proposed returning to me.  She took possession of the poor
queen's former dressing-room, and between that and the adjoining
apartments she spent all the day, except during dinner.

Nov. 11.-This day passed like the preceding; I only saw her
majesty in the morning, and not another human being from that
hour till Mrs. Schwellenberg and Miss Planta came to dinner.  Nor
could I then gather any information of the present state of
things, as Mrs. Schwellenberg announced that nothing must be
talked of.

To give any idea of the dismal horror of passing so many hours in
utter ignorance, where every interest of the mind was sighing for
intelligence, would not be easy: the experiment alone could give
it its full force; and from that, Heaven ever guard my loved
readers!

Nov. 12.-To-day a little brightened upon us some change appeared
in the loved royal sufferer, and though it was not actually for
the better in itself, yet any change was pronounced to be
salutary, as, for some days pas'' there had been a monotonous
continuation of the same bad symptoms, that had doubly depressed
us all.  My spirits rose immediately ; indeed, I thank God, I
never desponded, though many times I stood nearly alone in my
hopes.

In the passage, in the morning, I encountered Colonel Gwynn.  I
had but just time to inform him I yet thought all would do well,
ere the princes appeared.  All the equerries are now here except
Major Garth, who is ill; and they have all ample employment in
watching and waiting.  From time to time they have all
interviews; but it is only because the poor king will not be
denied seeing them: it is not thought light.  But I must enter
into nothing of this sort-it is all too closely connected with
private domestic concerns for paper.
After dinner, my chief guest, la Présidente, told me, " If my
room was not so warm, she would stay a little with me." I felt
this would be rather too superlative an obligation; and therefore
I simply answered that "I was too chilly to sit in a

Page 248

cold room;" and I confess I took no pains to temper it according
to this hint.



PUBLIC PRAYERS FOR THE KING DECIDED UPON.

Finding there was now no danger Of disagreeable interviews, Mr.
Fairly renewed his visits as usual.  He came early this evening,
and narrated the state of things; and then, with a laugh, he
Inquired What I had done With my head companion, and how I got
rid of her?  I fairly told him my malice about the temperature.

He could not help laughing, though he instantly remonstrated
against an expedient that might prove prejudicial to my health.
"You had better not," he cried, "try any experiments of this
sort: if you hurt Your nerves, it may prove a permanent evil;
this other can only be temporary."

He took up the "Task"  again; but he opened, by ill luck, upon
nothing striking or good; and soon, with distaste, flung the book
down, and committed himself wholly to conversation.

He told me he wished  much he had been able to consult with me on
the preceding morning, when he had the queen's orders to write,
in her majesty's name, to the Archbishop of Canterbury, to issue
out public prayers for the poor king, for all the churches.

I assured him I fancied it might do very well without my aid.
There was to be a privy council summoned, in consequence of the
letter, to settle the mode of compliance.

How right a step in my ever-right royal mistress is this! If you
hear less of her now, my dearest friends, and of the internal
transactions, it is only because I now rarely saw her but alone,
and all that passed, therefore, was in promised confidence.  And,
for the rest, the whole of my information concerning the princes,
and the plans and the proceedings of the house, was told me in
perfect reliance on my secrecy and honour.

I know this is saying enough to the most honourable of all
confidants and friends to whom I am writing.  All that passes
with regard to myself is laid completely before them.

Nov. 13- This was the fairest day we have passed since the first
seizure of the most beloved of monarchs.  He was considerably
better.  O what a ray of joy lightened us, and how mildly did my
poor queen receive it

Page 249

Nov. 14--Still all was greatly amended, and better
spirits reigned throughout the house.

Mr. Fairly--I can write of no one else, for no one else did I
see--called early, to tell me he had received an answer relative
to the prayer for his majesty's recovery, in consequence of which
he had the queen's commands for going to town the next day, to
see the archbishop.  This was an employment so suited to the
religious cast of his character, that I rejoiced to see it fall
into his hands.

He came again in the evening, and said he had now got the prayer.
He did not entirely approve it, nor think it sufficiently warm
and animated.  I petitioned to hear it, and he readily complied,
and read it with great reverence, but very unaffectedly and
quietly.  I was very, very much touched by It ; yet not, I own,
quite so much as once before by another, which was read to me by
Mr. Cambridge, and composed by his son, for the sufferings of his
excellent daughter Catherine.  It was at once so devout, yet so
concise--so fervent, yet so simple, and the many tender relations
concerned in it--father, brother, sister,--so powerfully affected
me, that I had no command over the feelings then excited, even
though Mr. Cambridge almost reproved me for want of fortitude;
but there was something so tender in a prayer of a brother for a
sister.

Here, however, I was under better control - for though my whole
heart was filled with the calamitous state of this unhappy
monarch, and with deepest affliction for all his family, I yet
knew so well my reader was one to severely censure all failure in
calmness and firmness, that I struggled, and not ineffectually,
to hear him with a steadiness like his own.  But, fortunately for
the relief of this force, he left the room for a few minutes to
see if he was wanted, and I made use of his absence to give a
little vent to those tears which I had painfully restrained in
his presence.

When he returned we had one of the best (on his part)
conversations in which I have ever been engaged, upon the highest
and most solemn of all subjects, prayers and supplications to
heaven.  He asked my opinion with earnestness, and gave his own
with unbounded openness.

Nov. 15-This morning my poor royal mistress herself presented me
with one of the prayers for the king.  I shall always keep it --
how--how fervently did I use it!

Whilst I was at breakfast Mr. Fairly once more called before he
set off for town and he brought me also a copy of the

Page 250

prayer.  He had received a large packet of them from the
archbishop, Dr. Moore, to distribute in the house.

The whole day the king continued amended.

Sunday, Nov. 16.-This morning I ventured out to church.  I did
not like to appear abroad, but yet I had a most irresistible
earnestness to join the public congregation in the prayer for the
king.  Indeed nothing could be more deeply moving: the very sound
of the cathedral service, performed in his own chapel, overset me
at once; and every prayer in the service in which he was
mentioned brought torrents of tears from all the suppliants that
joined in them.  I could scarcely keep my place, scarce command
my voice from audible sobs.  To come to the House of prayer from
such a house of woe!  I ran away when the service was over, to
avoid inquiries.  Mrs. Kennedy ran after me, with swollen eyes; I
could not refuse her a hasty answer, but I ran the faster after
it, to avoid any more.

The king was worse.  His night had been very bad ; all the fair
promise of amendment was shaken; he had now some symptoms even
dangerous to his life.  O good heaven, what a day did this prove!
I saw not a human face, save at dinner and then, what faces!
gloom and despair in all, and silence to every species of
intelligence. . . .

It was melancholy to see the crowds of former welcome visitors
who were now denied access.  The prince reiterated his former
orders; and I perceived from my window those who had ventured to
the door returning back in deluges of tears.  Amongst them to-day
I perceived poor Lady Effingham, the Duchess of Ancaster, and Mr.
Bryant ; the last sent me In, afterwards, a mournful little
letter, to which he desired no answer.  Indeed I was not at
liberty to write a word.


                 SIR LuCAS PEPYS ON THE KING's CONDITION.

Nov. 19.-The account of the dear king this morning was rather
better.

Sir Lucas Pepys was now called in, and added to Dr. Warren, Dr.
Heberden, and Sir George Baker.  I earnestly wished to see him,
and I found my poor royal mistress was secretly anxious to know
his opinion.  I sent to beg to speak with him, as soon as the
consultation was over; determined, however, to make that request
no more if he was as shy of giving information as Dr. Warren,

Page 251

poor Mr. de Luc was with me wen he came ; but it was
necessary I should see Sir Lucas alone, that I might have a
better claim upon his discretion : nevertheless I feared he would
have left me, without the smallest intelligence, before I was
able to make my worthy, but most slow companion comprehend the
necessity of his absence.

The moment we were alone, Sir Lucas opened upon the subject in
the most comfortable manner.  He assured me there was nothing
desponding in the case, and that his royal patient would
certainly recover, though not immediately.

Whilst I was in the midst of the almost speechless joy with which
I heard this said, and ready to kiss the very feet of Sir Lucas
for words of such delight, a rap at my door made me open it to
Mr. Fairly, who entered, saying, "I must come to ask you how you
do, though I have no good news to bring you; but--"

He then, with the utmost amaze, perceived Sir Lucas.  In so very
many visits he had constantly found me alone, that I really
believe he had hardly thought it possible he should see me in any
other way.

They then talked over the poor king's situation, and Sir Lucas
was very open and comforting.  How many sad meetings have I had
with him heretofore ; first in the alarming attacks of poor Mr.
Thrale, and next in the agonizing fluctuations of his unhappy
widow!

Sir Lucas wished to speak with me alone, as he had something he
wanted, through me, to communicate to the queen; but as he saw
Mr. Fairly not disposed to retire first, by his manner of saying
"Sir Lucas, you will find all the breakfast ready below stairs,"
he made his bow, and said he would see me again.

Mr. Fairly then informed me he was quite uneasy at the recluse
life led by the queen and the princesses, and that he was anxious
to prevail with them to take a little air, which must be
absolutely necessary to their health.  He was projecting a scheme
for this purpose, which required the assistance of the Duke of
York, and he left me, to confer upon it with his royal highness,
promising to return and tell its success.

Sir Lucas soon came back, and then gave me such unequivocal
assurances of the king's recovery, that the moment he left me I
flew to demand a private audience of the queen, that I might
relate such delightful prognostics.

The Duke of York was with her, I waited in the passage,

Page 252

where I met Lady Charlotte Finch, and tried what I could to
instil into her mind the hopes I entertained: this, however, was
not possible; a general despondency prevailed throughout the
house, and Lady Charlotte was infected by it very deeply.

At length I gained admission and gave my account, which was most
meekly received by the most patient of sorrowers.

At night came Mr. Fairly again; but, before he entered into any
narrations he asked "DO you expect Sir Lucas?"

"No," I said, "he had been already."

"I saw him rise early from table," he added, "and I thought he
was coming to YOU."

He has taken no fancy to poor Sir Lucas, and would rather,
apparently, avoid meeting him.  However, it is to me so essential
a comfort to hear his opinions, that I have earnestly entreated
to see him by every opportunity.


                       FURTHER CHANGES AT THE LODGE.

The equerries now had their own table as usual, to which the
physicians were regularly invited, downstairs, and our
eating-party was restored.  The princes established a table of
their own at the Castle, to which they gave daily invitations to
such as they chose, from time to time, to select from the Lodge.

The noise of so large a party just under the apartment of the
queen occasioned this new regulation, which took place by her
majesty's own direction.

Nov. 20.-Poor Miss Goldsworthy was now quite ill, and forced to
retire and nurse.  No wonder, for she had suffered the worst sort
of fatigue, that of fearing to sleep, from the apprehension the
queen might speak, and want her.  Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave now
took her place Of sleeping in the queen's room, but the office of
going for early intelligence how his majesty had passed the night
devolved upon me.

Exactly at seven o'clock I now went to the queen's apartment -
Lady Elizabeth then rose and went to her own room to dress, and I
received the queen's commands for my inquiries.  I could not,
however, go myself into the room where they assembled, which Miss
Goldsworthy, who always applied to her brother, had very properly
done : I sent in a message to beg to speak with General Bud, or
whoever could bring an account.

Mr. Charles Hawkins came; he had sat up.  O, how terrible a
narrative did he drily give of the night!--short, abrupt,

Page 253

peremptorily bad, and indubitably hopeless!  I did not dare
alter, but I greatly softened this relation, in giving it to my
poor queen.  I had been, indeed, too much shocked by the hard way
in which I had been told it, to deliver it in the same manner;
neither did I, in my own heart, despair.

I saw Sir Lucas afterwards, who encouraged all my more sanguine
opinions.  He told me many new regulations had been made.  His
majesty was to be kept as quiet as possible, and see only
physicians, except for a short and stated period in every day,
during which he might summon such among his gentlemen as he
pleased.

Mr. Fairly came also early, and wrote and read letters of great
consequence relative to the situation of affairs ; and he told me
he was then to go to the king, who had refused his assent to the
new plan, and insisted upon seeing him when he came in from his
ride, which, to keep him a little longer quiet, they had made him
believe he was then taking.  The gentlemen had agreed to be
within call alternately, and he meant to have his own turn always
in the forenoon, that his evenings might have some chance for
quiet, The rest of the day was comfortless; my coadjutrix was now
grown so fretful and affronting that, though we only met at
dinner, it was hard to support her most unprovoked harshness.



                    MR. FAIRLY AND THE LEARNED LADIES.

At night, while I was just sealing a short note to my dear Miss
Cambridge, who had an anxiety like that of my own Susan and Fredy
lest I should suffer from my present fatigues, I heard the
softest tap at my door, which, before I could either put down my
letter or speak, was suddenly but most gently opened.

I turned about and saw a figure wrapped up in a great, coat, with
boots and a hat on, who cautiously entered, and instantly closed
the door.  I stared, and looked very hard, but the face was much
hid by the muffling of the high collar to the great coat.  I
wondered, and could not conceive who it could be.  The figure
then took off his hat and bowed, but he did not advance, and the
light was away from him.  I courtsied, and wondered more, and
then a surprised voice exclaimed, "Don't you know me?" and I
found it was Mr. Fairly.

"I cannot," he said, "stop now, but I will come again; however,
you know it, perhaps, already?

Page 254

"Know what?"

"Why--the--news."

"What news?"

"Why--that the king is much better, and--"

"Yes, Sir Lucas said so, but I have seen nobody since."

"No?  And have you heard nothing more?"

"Nothing at all; I cannot guess what you mean."

"What, then, have not you heard--how Much the king has talked?
And--and have not you heard the charge."

"No; I have heard not a word of any charge."

"Why, then, I'll tell you."

A long preamble, uttered very rapidly, of "how much the king had
been talking," seemed less necessary to introduce his
intelligence than to give him time to arrange it; and I was so
much struck with this, that I could not even listen to him, from
impatience to have him proceed.

Suddenly, however, breaking off, evidently from not knowing how
to go on, he exclaimed, "Well, I shall tell it you all by and by;
you come in for your share!"

Almost breathless now with amaze, I could hardly cry,

"Do I?"

"Yes, I'll tell you," cried he; but again he stopped, and,
hesitatingly, said, "You--you won't be angry?"

"No," I answered, still more amazed, and even almost terrified,
at what I had now to expect.

"Well, then," cried he, instantly resuming his first gay and
rapid manner, "the king has been calling them all to order for
staying so long away from him.  'All the equerries and gentlemen
here,' he said, 'lost their whole time at the table, by drinking
so much wine and sitting so long over their bottle, which
constantly made them all so slow in returning to their waiting,
that when he wanted them in the afternoon they were never ready;
and-and-and Mr. Fairly,' says he, 'is as bad as any of them; not
that he stays so long at table, or is so fond of wine, but he's
just as late as the rest; for he's so fond of the company of
learned ladies, that he gets to the tea-table with Miss Burney,
and there he stays and spends his whole time.'"

He spoke all this like the velocity of lightning- but, had it
been with the most prosing slowness, I had surely never
interrupted him, so vexed I was, so surprised, so completely
disconcerted.  Finding me silent, he began again, and as rapidly
as ever; "I know exactly," he cried, "what it all means--what

Page 255
the king has in his head--exactly what has given rise to the
idea--'tis Miss Fuzilier."

Now, indeed, I stared afresh, little expecting to hear her named
by him.  He went on in too much hurry for me to recollect his
precise words, but he spoke of her very highly, and mentioned her
learning, her education, and her acquirements, with great praise,
yet with that sort of general commendation that disclaims all
peculiar interest; and then, with some degree of displeasure
mixed in his voice, mentioned the report that had been spread
concerning- them, and its having reached the ears of the king
before his Illness.  He then lightly added something I could not
completely hear, of its utter falsehood, in a way that seemed to
hold even a disavowal too important for it, and then concluded
with saying, "And this in the present confused state of his mind
is altogether, I know, what he means by the learned ladies."

When he had done he looked earnestly for my answer, but finding I
made none, he said, with some concern, "You won't think any more
of it?"

"No," I answered, rather faintly.

In a lighter manner then, as if to treat the whole as too light
for a thought, he said, as he was leaving the room to change his
dress, "Well, since I have now got the character of being so fond
of such company, I shall certainly"--he stopped short, evidently
at a loss how to go on; but quickly after, with a laugh, he
hastily added, "come and drink tea with you very often;" and
then, with another laugh, which he had all to himself, he hurried
away.

He left me, however, enough to think upon and the predominant
thought was an immediate doubt whether or not, since his visits
had reached the king, his majesty's observation upon them ought
to stop their continuance?

Upon the whole, however, when I summed up all, I found not cause
sufficient for any change of system.  No raillery had passed upon
me; and, for him, he had stoutly evinced a determined contempt of
it.  Nothing of flirtation had been mentioned for either; I had
merely been called a learned lady, and he had merely been accused
Of liking such company.  I had no other social comfort left me
but Mr. Fairly, and I had discomforts past all description or
suggestion.  Should I drive him from me, what would pay me, and
how had he deserved it? and which way could it be worth while?
His friendship offered me a solace without hazard; it was held
out to me
Page 256

when all else was denied me; banished from every friend, confined
almost to a state of captivity, harrowed to the very soul with
surrounding afflictions, and without a glimpse of light as to
when or how all might terminate, it seemed to me, in this
situation, that providence had benignly sent in my way a
character of so much worth and excellence, to soften the rigour
of my condition, by kind sympathy and most honourable confidence.

This idea was sufficient; and I thence determined to follow as he
led, in disdaining any further notice, or even remembrance, if
possible, of this learned accusation.

Nov. 21.-All went better and better to-day, and I received from
the king's room a more cheering account to carry to my poor
queen.  We had now hopes of a speedy restoration :

the king held long conferences with all his gentlemen, and,
though far from composed, was so frequently rational as to- make
any resistance to his will nearly impossible.  Innumerable
difficulties attended this state, but the general promise it gave
of a complete recovery recompensed them all.

Sir Lucas Pepys came to me in the morning and acquainted me with
the rising hopes of amendment.  But he disapproved the admission
of so many gentlemen, and would have limited the license to only
the equerry in waiting, Colonel Goldsworthy, and Mr. Fairly, who
was now principal throughout the house, in universal trust for
his superior judgment.

The king, Sir Lucas said, now talked of everybody and everything
he could recollect or suggest.

So I have heard, thought I.

And, presently after, he added, "No one escapes; you will have
your turn."

Frightened lest he knew I had had it, I eagerly exclaimed, "O,
no; I hope not."

"And why?" cried he, good-humouredly; "what need you care? He can
say no harm of you."

I ventured then to ask if yet I had been named? He believed not
yet.

This doubled my curiosity to know to whom the "learned ladies"
had been mentioned, and whether to Mr. Fairly himself, or to
someone who related it; I think the latter, but there is no way
to inquire.

Very early in the evening I heard a rap at my door.  I was in my
inner room, and called out, "Who's there?" The door opened and
Mr, Fairly appeared.

Page 257

He had been so long in attendance this morning with our poor sick
monarch, that he was too much fatigued to join the dinner-party.
He had stood five hours running, besides the concomitant
circumstances of attention.  He had instantly laid down when he
procured his dismission, and had only risen to eat some cold
chicken before he came to my room.  During that repast he had
again been demanded, but he charged the gentleman to make his
excuse, as he could go through nothing further.

I hope the king did not conclude him again with the learned; This
was the most serene, and even cheerful evening,, I had passed
since the poor king's first seizure.



                     REPORTS ON THE KING'S CONDITION.

Nov. 22.-When I went for my morning inquiries, Colonel Manners
came out to me.  He could give me no precise account, as the
sitters-up had not yet left the king, but he feared the night had
been bad.  We mutually bewailed the mournful state of the house.
He is a very good creature at heart, though as unformed as if he
had just left Eton or Westminster.  But he loves his master with
a true and faithful heart, and is almost as ready to die as to
live for him, if any service of that risk was proposed to him.

While the queen's hair was dressing, though only for a close cap,
I was sent again.  Colonel Manners came out to me, and begged I
would enter the music-room, as Mr. Keate, the surgeon, had now
just left the king, and was waiting to give me an account before
he laid down.

I found him in his night-cap: he took me up to a window, and gave
me but a dismal history : the night had been very unfavourable,
and the late amendment very transient.  I heard nothing further
till the evening, when my constant companion came to me.  All, he
said, was bad: he had been summoned and detained nearly all the
morning, and had then rode to St. Leonard's to get a little rest,
as he would not return till after dinner.

He had but just begun his tea when his name was called aloud in
the passage: up he started, seized his hat, and with a hasty bow,
decamped.  I fancy it was one of the princes; and the more, as he
did not come back.

Sunday, Nov. 23.-A sad day this! I was sent as usual for

Page 258

the night account, which I had given to me by Mr. Fairly, and a
very dismal one indeed.  Yet I never, upon this point, yield
implicitly to his opinion, as I see him frequently of the
despairing side, and as for myself, I thank God, my hopes never
wholly fall.  A certain faith in his final recovery has uniformly
supported my spirits from the beginning. . .

In the evening, a small tap at my door, with, "Here I am again,"
ushered in Mr. Fairly.  He seemcd much hurried and disturbed, and
innately uncomfortable; and very soon he entered into a detail of
the situation of affairs that saddened me in the extreme.  The
poor king was very ill indeed, and so little aware of his own
condition, that he would submit to no rule, and chose to have
company with him from morning till night, sending out for the
gentlemen one after another without intermission, and chiefly for
Mr. Fairly, who, conscious it was hurtful to his majesty, and
nearly worn out himself, had now no chance of respite or escape
but by leaving the house and riding out. . . .

I have never seen him so wearied, or so vexed, I know not which.
"How shall I rejoice," he cried, "when all this is over, and I
can turn my back to this scene!"

I should rejoice, I said, for him when he could make his escape;
but his use here, in the whole round, is infinite; almost nothing
is done without consulting him.

"I wish," he cried, while he was making some memorandums, "I
could live without sleep; I know not now how to spare my night."
He then explained to me various miscellaneous matters of
occupation, and confessed himself forced to break from the
confused scene of action as much as possible, where the tumult
and bustle were as overpowering, as the affliction, in the more
quiet apartments, was dejecting.  Then, by implication, what
credit did he not give to my Poor still room, which he made me
understand was his only refuge and consolation in this miserable
house!


           MR. FAIRLY THINKS THE KING NEEDS STRICTER MANAGEMENT.
Nov. 24.-Very bad again was the night's account, which
I received at seven o'clock this morning from Mr. DUndas.  I
returned with it to my Poor royal mistress, who heard it with her
usual patience.

Page 259

While I was still with her, Lady Elizabeth came with a
request from Mr. Fairly, for an audience before her majesty's
breakfast.  As soon as she was ready she ordered me to tell Lady
Elizabeth to bring him. . . .

Soon after,--with a hasty rap, came Mr. Fairly.  He brought his
writing to my table, where I was trying to take off impressions
of plants.  I Saw he meant to read me his letter; but before he
had finished it Lady Charlotte Finch came in search of him.  It
was not for the queen, but herself; she wished to speak and
consult with him upon the king's seeing his children, which was
now his vehement demand.

He was writing for one of the king's messengers, and could not
stop till he had done.  Poor Lady Charlotte, overcome with
tenderness and compassion, wept the whole time he was at his pen;
and when he had put it down, earnestly remonstrated on the
cruelty of the present regulations, which debarred his majesty
the sight of the princesses.  I joined with her, though more
firmly, believe me; my tears I suppress for my solitude.  I have
enough of that to give them vent, and, with all my suppression,
my poor aching eyes can frequently scarce see one object from
another.

When Mr. Fairly left off writing he entered very deeply into
argument with Lady Charlotte.  He was averse to her request; he
explained the absolute necessity of strong measures, and of the
denial of dangerous indulgences, while the poor king was in this
wretched state.  The disease, he said, was augmented by every
agitation, and the discipline of forced quiet was necessary till
he was capable of some reflection.  At present he spoke
everything that occurred to him, and in a manner so wild,
unreasonable, and dangerous, with regard to future constructions,
that there could be no kindness so great to him as to suffer him
only to see those who were his requisite attendants.

He then enumerated many instances very forcibly, in which he
showed how much more properly his majesty might have been
treated, by greater strength of steadiness in his management.  He
told various facts which neither of us had heard, and, at last,
in speaking of the most recent occurrences, he fell into a
narrative relating to himself.

The king, he said, had almost continually demanded him of late,
and with the most extreme agitation; he had been as much with him
as it was possible for his health to bear.  "Five hours,,,
continued he, "I spent with him on Friday, and four

Page 260

on Saturday, and three and a half yesterday; yet the moment I
went to him last night, he accused me of never coming near him.
He said I gave him up entirely; that I was always going out,
always dining out, always going to Mrs. Harcourt's--riding to St.
Leonard's; but he knew why--'twas to meet Miss Fuzilier." . . .

Poor Lady Charlotte was answered, and, looking extremely sorry,
went away.

He then read me his messenger's letter.  'Twas upon a very
delicate affair, relative to the Prince of Wales, in whose
service, he told me, he first began his Court preferment.

When he had made up his packet he returned to the subject of the
king's rage, with still greater openness.  He had attacked him,
he said, more violently than ever about Miss Fuzilier which,
certainly, as there had been such a report, was very unpleasant.
"And when I seriously assured him," he added, "that there was
nothing in it, he said 'I had made him the happiest of men."'

Nov. 25.---My morning account was from General Bud, and
a very despairing one.  He has not a ray of hope for better days.

My poor queen was so much pleased with a sort of hymn for the
king, which she had been reading In the newspapers, that I
scrupled not to tell her of one in manuscript, which, of course,
she desired to read; but I stipulated for its return, though I
could not possibly stay in the room while she looked at it.


                        MR. FAIRLY WANTS A CHANGE.

In the evening Mr. Fairly came, entering with a most gently civil
exclamation of "How long it is since I have seen you!"

I could not answer, it was only one evening missed; for, in
truth, a day at this time seems liberally a week, and a very slow
one too.  He had been to town, suddenly sent by the queen last
night, and had returned only at noon.

he gave me a full account of all that was passing and projecting;
and awfully critical everything seemed.  "He should now soon," he
said, "quit the tragic scene, and go to relax and recruit, with
his children, in the country.  He regarded his service here as
nearly over, since an entirely new regulation was planning, in
which the poor king was no longer to be allowed the sight of any
of his gentlemen.  His continual long conversations with them
were judged utterly improper, and

Page 261
he was only to be attended by the medical people and his pages."

He then gave into my hands the office of hinting to the queen his
intention, if he could be dispensed with by her majesty, to go
into the Country on the 12th of next month (December), with his
boy Charles, who then left Eton for the Christmas holidays.  I
knew this would be unwelcome intelligence, but I wished to
forward his departure, and would not refuse the commission.  When
this was settled he said he would go and take a circuit, and see
how matters stood; and then, if he could get away after showing
himself, return--if I would give him leave to drink his tea with
me.

He had not been gone ten minutes before Lady Charlotte came in
search of him.  She had been told, she said, that he was with me.
I laughed, but could not forbear asking if I passed for his
keeper, since whenever he was missing I was always called to
account for him.  Again, however, he came and drank his tea, and
stayed an hour, in most confidential discourse.

When the new regulation is established, only one gentleman is to
remain--which will be the equerry in waiting.  This is now
Colonel Goldsworthy.  The rest will disperse.


                REMOVAL OF THE KING To KEW DETERMINED UPON.
Nov. 26.-I found we were all speedily to remove to Kew.  This was
to be kept profoundly secret till almost the moment of departure.
The king will never consent to quit Windsor and to allure him
away by some stratagem occupies all the physicians, who have
proposed and enforced this measure.  Mr. Fairly is averse to it:
the king's repugnance he thinks insurmountable, and that it ought
not to be opposed.  But the princes take part with the
physicians.

He left me to ride out, but more cordial and with greater
simplicity of kindness than ever, he smilingly said in going,
"Well, good bye, and God bless you."

"Amen," quoth I, after he had shut the door.

Nov. 27.-This morning and whole day were dreadful My early
account was given me by Mr. Charles Hawkins, and with such
determined decision of incurability, that I left him quite in
horror.  All that I dared, I softened to my poor queen, who was
now harassed to death with state affairs, and impending storms of
state dissensions, I would have given

Page 262
the world to have spent the whole day by her side, and poured in
what balm of hope I could, since it appeared but too Visibly she
scarce received a ray from any other.

Universal despondence now pervaded the whole house.  Sir Lucas,
indeed, sustained his original good opinion, but he was nearly
overpowered by standing alone, and was forced to let the stream
take its course with but little opposition.  Even poor Mr. de Luc
was silenced ; Miss Planta easily yields to fear; and Mrs.
Schwellenberg--who thinks it treason to say the king is ever at
all indisposed--not being able to say all was quite well, forbade
a single word being uttered upon the subject
The dinners, therefore, became a time of extremest pain; all was
ignorance, mystery, and trembling expectation of evil.

In the evening, thank heaven! came again my sole relief, Mr.
Fairly.  He brought his son.  and they entered with such serene
aspects, that I soon shook off a little of my gloom; and I heard
there was no new cause, for though all was bad, nothing was
worse.  We talked over everything; and that always opens the
mind, and softens the bitterness of sorrow.

The prospect before us, with respect to Kew, is indeed terrible.
There is to be a total seclusion from all but those within the
walls, and those are to be contracted to merely necessary
attendants.  Mr. Fairly disapproved the scheme, though a gainer
by it of leisure and liberty.  Only the equerry in waiting Is to
have a room in the house; the rest of the gentlemen are to take
their leave.  He meant, therefore, himself, to go into the
country with all speed.

Nov. 28.-How woful-how bitter a day, in every part, was this!

My early account was from the king's page, Mr. Stillingfleet, and
the night had been extremely bad.  I dared not sink the truth to
my poor queen, though I mixed in it whatever I Could devise of
cheer and hope; and she bore it with the most wonderful calmness.

Dr. Addington was now called in: a very old physician, but
peculiarly experienced in disorders such as afflicted our poor
king, though not professedly a practitioner in them.

Sir Lucas made me a visit, and informed me of all the medical
proceedings; and told me, in confidence, we were to go to Kew
to-morrow, though the queen herself had not yet concurred in the
measure; but the physicians joined to desire

Page 263
it, and they were supported by the princes.  The difficulty how
to get the king away from his favourite abode was all that
rested.  If they even attempted force, they had not a doubt but
his smallest resistance would call up the whole country to his
fancied rescue!  Yet how, at such a time, prevail by persuasion?

He moved me even to tears,
by telling me that none of their own lives would be safe if the
king did not recover so Prodigiously high ran the tide of
affection and loyalty.  All the physicians received threatening
letters daily to answer for the safety of their monarch with
their lives!  Sir George Baker had already been Stopped in his
carriage by the mob to give an account of the king; and when he
said it Was a bad one, they had furiously exclaimed, "The more
shame for you!"


                           A PRIVY COUNCIL HELD.

After he left me, a privy council was held at the Castle, with
the Prince of Wales; the chancellor,(300) Mr. Pitt, and all the
officers of state were summoned, to sign a Permission for the
king's removal.  The poor queen gave an audience to the
chancellor--it was necessary to sanctify their proceedings.  The
princess royal and Lady Courtown attended her.  It was a tragedy
the most dismal!

The queen's knowledge of the king's aversion to Kew made her
consent to this measure with the extremest reluctance yet it was
not to be opposed: It Was stated as much the best for him, on
account of the garden: as here there is none but what Is Public
to spectators from the terrace or tops of houses.  I believe they
were perfectly right though the removal was so tremendous.  The
physicians were summoned to the privy Council, to give their
Opinions, upon oath, that this step was necessary.

Inexpressible was the alarm of everyone, lest the king, if he
recovered, should bear a lasting resentment against the authors
and promoters of this Journey.  To give it, therefore, every
possible sanction it was decreed that he should be seen, both by
the chancellor and Mr. Pitt.

The chancellor went in to his presence with a tremor such as,
before, he had been only accustomed to inspire; and when he came
out, he was so extremely affected by the state in which he

Page 264

saw his royal master and patron that the tears ran down his
cheeks, and his feet had difficulty to support him.  Mr. Pitt was
more composed, but expressed his grief with so much respect and
attachment, that it added new weight to the universal admiration
with which he is here beheld.

All these circumstances, with various others, of equal sadness
which I must not relate, came to my knowledge from Sir Lucas, Mr.
de Luc, and my noon attendance upon her majesty, who was
compelled to dress for her audience of the chancellor.  And,
altogether, with the horror of the next day's removal, an([ the
gloom of the ensuing Kew residence, I was so powerfully
depressed, that when Mr. Fairly came in the evening, not all my
earnestness to support my firmness could re-animate me, and I
gave him a most solemn reception, and made the tea directly, and
almost in silence.

He endeavoured, at first, to revive me by enlivening discourse,
but finding that fail, he had recourse to more serious means.  He
began his former favourite topic-the miseries of life-the
inherent miseries, he thinks them, to which we are so universally
born and bred, that it was as much consonant with our reason to
expect as with our duty to support them.

I heard him with that respect his subject and his character alike
merited; but I could not answer--my heart was sunk--my spirits
were all exhausted: I knew not what to expect next, nor how I
might be enabled to wade through the dreadful winter. . . .

He had not, I saw, one ray of hope to offer me of better times,
yet he recommended me to cheer myself; but not by more sanguine
expectations--simply and solely by religion.  To submit, he said,
to pray and to submit, were all we had to do.  . . .

The voice of the Prince of Wales, in the passage, carried him
away.  They remained together, in deep conference, all the rest
of the evening, consulting upon measures for facilitating the
king's removal, and obtaining his consent.

I went very late to the queen, and found her in deep sorrow but
nothing confidential passed: I found her not alone, nor alone did
I leave her.  But I knew what was passing in her mind--the
removing the king!-Its difficulty and danger at present, and the
dread of his permanent indignation hereafter.

Page 265
                            THE REMOVAL To KEW.

Nov. 29.-Shall I ever forget the varied emotions of this dreadful
day!  I rose with the heaviest of hearts, and found my poor royal
mistress in the deepest dejection: she told me now of our
intended expedition to Kew.  Lady Elizabeth hastened away to
dress, and I was alone with her for some time.  Her mind, she
said, quite misgave her about Kew: the king's dislike was
terrible to think of, and she could not foresee in what it might
end.  She would have resisted the measure herself, hut that she
had determined not to have upon her own mind any opposition to
the opinion of the physicians.

The account of the night was still more and more discouraging: it
was related to me by one of the pages, Mr. Brawan; and though a
little I softened or omitted particulars, I yet most sorrowfully
conveyed it to the queen.

Terrible was the morning!--uninterruptedly terrible! all spent in
hasty packing up, preparing for we knew not what, nor for how
long, nor with what circumstances, nor scarcely with what view!
We seemed preparing for captivity, without having committed any
offence; and for banishment, without the least conjecture when we
might be recalled from it.

The poor queen was to get off in private: the plan settled,
between the princes and the physicians, was, that her majesty and
the princesses should go away quietly, and then that the king
should be told that they were gone, which was the sole method
they could devise to prevail with him to follow.  He was then to
be allured by a promise of seeing them at Kew again, as they knew
he would doubt their assertion, he was to go through the rooms
and examine the house himself.

I believe it was about ten o'clock when her majesty departed
drowned in tears, she glided along the passage, and got softly
into her carriage, with two weeping princesses, and Lady
Courtown, who was to be her lady-in-waiting during this dreadful
residence.  Then followed the third princess, With Lady Charlotte
Finch.  They went off without any state or parade, and a more
melancholy Scene cannot be imagined.  There was not a dry eye in
the house.  The footmen, the house-maids, the porter, the
sentinels--all cried even bitterly as they looked on.

The three younger princesses were to wait till the event was
known.  Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave and Miss Goldsworthy had their
royal highnesses in charge,

Page 266
It was settled the king was to be attended by three of his
gentlemen, in the carriage, and to be followed by the physicians,
and preceded by his pages.  But all were to depart on his arrival
at Kew, except his own equerry-in-waiting.  It Was not very
pleasant to these gentlemen to attend his majesty at such a time,
and upon such a plan, so adverse to his inclination, without any
power of assistance : however, they would rather have died than
refused, and it was certain the king would no other way travel
but by compulsion, which no human being dared even mention.
Miss Planta and I were to go as soon as the packages could be
ready, with some of the queen's things.  Mrs. Schwellenberg was
to remain behind, for one day, in order to make arrangements
about the jewels.

In what a confusion was the house!  Princes, equerries,
physicians, pages--all conferring, whispering, plotting, and
caballing, how to induce the king to set off!

At length we found an opportunity to glide through the passage to
the coach; Miss Planta and myself, with her maid and Goter.  But
the heaviness of heart with which we began this journey, and the
dreadful prognostics of the duration of misery to which it led
us--who can tell?

We were almost wholly silent all the way.  When we arrived at
Kew, we found the suspense with which the king was awaited truly
terrible.  Her majesty had determined to return to Windsor at
night, if he came not.  We were all to forbear unpacking in the
mean while.

The house was all now regulated by express order of the Prince of
Wales, who rode over first, and arranged all the apartments, and
writ, with chalk, the names of the destined inhabitants on each
door.  My own room he had given to Lady Courtown ; and for me, he
had fixed on one immediately adjoining to Mrs. Schwellenberg's; a
very pleasant room, looking into the garden, but by everybody
avoided, because the partition is so thin of the next apartment,
that not a word can be spoken in either that is not heard in
both.



                           A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR.

While I was surveying this new habitation, the princess royal
came into it, and, with a cheered countenance, told me that the
queen had just received intelligence that the king was rather
better, and would come directly, and therefore I was

Page 267,

commissioned to issue orders to Columb to keep out of sight, and
to see that none of the servants were in the way when the king
passed.

Eagerly, and enlivened, downstairs I hastened, to speak to
Columb.  I flew to the parlour to ring the bell for him, as In my
new room I had no bell for either man or maid; but judge my
surprise, when, upon opening the door, and almost rushing in, I
perceived a Windsor uniform!  I was retreating with equal haste,
when the figure before me started, in so theatric an attitude of
astonishment, that it forced me to look again.  The arms were
then wide opened, while the figure fell back, in tragic paces.


Much at a loss, and unable to distinguish the face, I was again
retiring, when the figure advanced, but in such measured steps as
might have suited a march upon a stage.  I now suspected it was
Mr. Fairly; yet so unlikely I thought it, I could not believe it
without speech.  "Surely," I cried, " it is not--it is not--" I
stopped, afraid to make a mistake.

With arms yet more sublimed, he only advanced, in silence and
dumb heroics.  I now ventured to look more steadily at the face,
and then to exclaim-" "Is it Mr. Fairly?"

The laugh now betrayed him: he could hardly believe I had really
not known him.  I explained that my very little expectation of
seeing him at Kew had assisted my near-sightedness to perplex me.

But I was glad to see him so sportive, which I found was Owing to
the good spirits of bringing good news; he had mounted his horse
as soon as he had heard the king had consented to the journey,
and he had galloped to Kew, to acquaint her majesty with the
welcome tidings.

I rang and gave my orders to Columb and he then begged me not to
hurry away, and to give him leave to wait, in this parlour, the
king's arrival.  He then explained to me the whole of the
intended proceedings and arrangements, with details innumerable
and most interesting.

He meant to go almost immediately into the country--all was
settled with the queen.  I told him I was most cordially glad his
recruit was so near at hand.

"I shall, however," he said, "be in town a few days longer, and
come hither constantly to pay you all a little visit."

Miss Planta then appeared.  A more general conversation now took
place, though in its course Mr. Fairly had the malice to give me
a start I little expected from him.  We were talk-

Page 268
ing of our poor king, and wondering at the delay of his arrival,
when Mr. Fairly said, "The king now, Miss Planta, mentions
everybody and everything that he knows or has heard mentioned in
his whole life.  Pray does he know any Of your secrets? he'll
surely tell them if he does!"

"So I hear," cried she, "but I'm sure he can't tell anything of
Me!  But I wonder what he says of everybody?"

"Why, everything,"  cried he.  "Have you not heard of yourself?"

"Dear, no! Dear me, Mr. Fairly!"

"And, dear Miss Planta! why should not you have your share?  Have
you not heard he spares nobody?"

"Yes, I have; but I can't think what he says of them!"

Fearful of anything more, I arose and looked at the Window to see
if any sign of approach appeared, but he dropped the subject
without coming any nearer, and Miss Planta dropped it too.

I believe he wished to discover if she had heard of his learned
ladies!


                            THE KING's ARRIVAL.

Dinner went on, and still no king.  We now began to grow very
anxious, when Miss Planta exclaimed that she thought she heard a
carriage.  We all listened.  "I hope!" I cried.  "I see you do!"
cried he, "you have a very face of hope at this moment!"--and it
was not disappointed.  The sound came nearer, and presently a
carriage drove into the front court.  I could see nothing, it was
so dark; but I presently heard the much-respected voice of the
dear unhappy king, speaking rapidly to the porter, as he alighted
from the coach.  Mr. Fairly flew instantly upstairs, to acquaint
the queen with the welcome tidings.

The poor king had been prevailed upon to quit Windsor with the
utmost difficulty: he was accompanied by General Harcourt, his
aide-de-camp, and Colonels Goldsworthy and Wellbred--no one else!
He had passed all the rest with apparent composure, to come to
his carriage, for they lined the passage, eager to see him once
more! and almost all Windsor was collected round the rails, etc.
to witness the mournful spectacle of his departure, which left
them in the deepest despondence, with scarce a ray of hope ever
to see him again.

Page 269

The bribery, however, which brought, was denied him!--he was by
no means to see the queen

When I went to her at night, she was all graciousness, and kept
me till very late.  I had not seen her alone so long, except for
a few minutes in the morning, that I had a thousand things I
wished to say to her.  You may be sure they were all, as far as
they went, consolatory.

Princess Augusta had a small tent-bed put up in the queen's
bed-chamber: I called her royal highness when the queen dismissed
me.  She undressed in an adjoining apartment.


                      THE ARRANGEMENTS AT KEW PALACE.

I must now tell you how the house is disposed. The whole of the
ground-floor that looks towards the 'garden is appropriated to
the king, though he is not indulged with its range.  In the side
wing is a room for the physicians, destined to their
consultations; adjoining to that is the equerry's dining-room.
Mrs. Schwellenberg's parlours, which are in the front of the
house, one for dining, the other for coffee and tea, are still
allowed us.  The other front rooms below are for the pages to
dine, and the rest of the more detached buildings are for the
servants of various sorts.

All the rooms immediately over those which are actually occupied
by the king are locked up; her majesty relinquishes them, that he
may never be tantalized by footsteps overhead.  She has retained
only the bed-room, the drawing-room, which joins to it, and the
gallery, in which she eats.  Beyond this gallery are the
apartments of the three elder princesses, in one .of which rooms
Miss Planta sleeps.  There is nothing more on the first floor.

On the second a very large room for Mrs. Schwellenberg, and a
very pleasant one for myself, are over the queen's rooms.
Farther on are three bed-rooms, one for the surgeon or apothecary
in waiting, the next for the equerry, and the third, lately mine,
for the queen's lady--all written thus with chalk by the prince.

Then follows a very long dark passage, with little bed-rooms on
each side, for the maids, and one of the pages.  These look like
so many little cells of a convent.

Mrs. Sandys has a room nearer the queen's, and Goter has one
nearer to mine.  At the end of this passage there is a larger
room, formerly appropriated to Mr. de Luc, but now

Page 270

chalked "The physicians'."  One physician, one equerry, and one
surgeon or apothecary, are regularly to sleep in the house.  This
is the general arrangement.

The prince very properly has also ordered that one of his
majesty's grooms of' the bedchamber should be in constant
waiting; he is to reside in the prince's house, over the way,
which is also fitting up for some others.  This gentleman is to
receive all inquiries about the king's health.  The same
regulation had taken place at Windsor, in the Castle, where the
gentlemen waited in turn.  Though, as the physicians send their
account to St. James's, this is now become an almost useless
ceremony, for everybody goes thither to read the bulletin.

The three young princesses are to be in a house belonging to the
king on Kew green, commonly called Princess Elizabeth's, as her
royal highness has long inhabited it in her illness.  There will
lodge Miss Goldsworthy, Mlle. Montmoulin, and Miss Gomme.  Lady
Charlotte Finch is to be at the Prince of Wales's.

I could not sleep all night----I thought I heard the poor king.
He was under the same range of apartments, though far distant,
but his indignant disappointment haunted me.  The queen, too, was
very angry at having promises made in her
name which could not be kept.  What a day altogether was this!


                           A REGENCY HINTED AT.

Sunday, Nov. 30.-Here, in all its dread colours, dark as its
darkest prognostics, began the Kew campaign.  I went to my poor
queen at seven o'clock: the Princess Augusta arose and went away
to dress, and I received her majesty's commands to go down for
inquiries.  She had herself passed a wretched night, and already
lamented leaving Windsor.

I waited very long in the cold dark passages below, before I
could find any one of whom to ask intelligence.  The parlours
were without fires, and washing.  I gave directions afterwards,
to have a fire in one of them by seven o'clock every morning.

At length I procured the speech of one of the pages, and heard
that the night had been the most violently bad of any yet
passed!--and no wonder!

I hardly knew how to creep upstairs, frozen both within and
without, to tell such news; but it was not received as if
unexpected, and I omitted whatever was not essential to be known.

Page 271

Afterwards arrived Mrs: Schwellenberg, so oppressed
between her spasms and the house's horrors, that the oppression
she inflicted ought perhaps to be pardoned.  It was, however,
difficult enough to bear!  Harshness, tyranny, dissension, and
even insult, seemed personified.    I cut short details upon this
subject-they would but make you sick. . . .

My dear Miss Cambridge sent to me immediately.             I saw
she had a secret hope she might come and sit with me now and then
in this confinement. It would have been my greatest possible
solace in this dreary abode: but I hastened to acquaint her of
the absolute seclusion, and even to beg she would not send her
servant to the house - for I found it was much desired to keep
off all who might carry away any intelligence.

She is ever most reasonable, and never thenceforward hinted upon
the subject.  But she wrote continually long letters, and filled
with news and anecdotes of much interest, relating to anything
she could gather of "out-house proceedings," which now became
very important--the length of the malady threatening a regency!--
a Word which I have not yet been able to articulate.


                        MR. FAIRLY'S KIND OFFICES.

Kew, Monday, Dec. 1.-Mournful was the opening of the month!  My
account of the night from Gezewell, the page, was very alarming,
and my poor royal mistress began to sink more than I had ever yet
seen.         No wonder; the length of the malady so uncertain,
the steps which seemed now requisite so shocking: for new advice,
and such as suited only disorders that physicians in general
relinquish, was now proposed, and compliance or refusal were
almost equally tremendous.

In sadness I returned from her, and, moping and unoccupied, I was
walking up and down my room, when Columb came to say Mr. Fairly
desired to know if I could see him.

Certainly, I said, I would come to him in the parlour.        He
was not at all well, nor did he seem at all comfortable.       He
had undertaken, by his own desire, to purchase small carpets for
the princesses, for the house is in a state of cold and
discomfort past all imagination.      It has never been a winter
residence, and there was nothing prepared for its becoming one.
He could not, he told me, look at the rooms of their royal
highnesses without shuddering for them; and he longed, he said,
to cover all the naked, cold boards, to render them

Page 272

more habitable.  He had obtained permission to execute this as a
commission: for so miserable is the house at present that no
general orders to the proper people are either given Or thought
about; and every one is so absorbed in the general calamity, that
they would individually sooner perish than offer up complaint or
petition.  I Should never end were I to explain the reasons there
are for both.

What he must next, he said, effect, was supplying them with
sand-bags for windows and doors, which he intended to fill and to
place himself.  The wind which blew in upon those lovely
princesses, he declared, was enough to destroy them.

When he had informed me of these kind offices, he began an
inquiry into how I was lodged.  Well enough, I said; but he would
not accept so general an answer.  He insisted upon knowing what
was my furniture, and in particular if I had any carpet; and when
I owned I had none, he smiled, and said he would bring six,
though his commission only extended to three.

He did not at all like the parlour, which, indeed, is wretchedly
cold and miserable: he wished to bring it a carpet, and
new fit it up with warm winter accommodations.  He reminded me of
my dearest Fredy, when she brought me a decanter of barley-water
and a bright tin saucepan, under her hoop.  I Could not tell him
that history in detail, but I rewarded his good-nature by hinting
at the resemblance it bore, in its active zeal, to my sweet Mrs.
Locke. . . .

The queen afterwards presented me with a very pretty little new
carpet; only a bed-side slip, but very warm.  She knew not how
much I was acquainted with its history, but I found she had
settled for them all six.  She gave another to Mrs.
Schwellenberg.


                       MRS. SCHWELLENBERG'S PARLOUR.

Dec. 3.-Worse again to-day was the poor king: the little fair
gleam, how soon did it pass away!

I was beginning to grow ill myself, from the added fatigue of
disturbance in the night, unavoidably occasioned by the
neighbourhood to an invalid who summoned her maids at all hours;
and my royal mistress issued orders for a removal to take place.

My new apartment is at the end of the long dark passage
mentioned, with bed-room cells on each side it.  It is a

Page 273

very comfortable room, carpeted all over, with one window
looking- to the front of the house and two into a court-yard.  It
is the most distant from the queen, but in all other respects is
very desirable.

I must now relate briefly a new piece of cruelty.  I happened to
mention to la première présidente my waiting for a page to bring
the morning accounts.

"And where do you wait?"

"In the parlour, ma'am."

"In my parlour?  Oh, ver well!  I will see to that!"

"There is no other place, ma'am, but the cold passages, which, at
that time in the morning, are commonly wet as well as dark."

"O, ver well! When everybody goes to my room I might keep an
inn--what you call hotel."

All good humour now again vanished; and this morning, when I made
my seven o'clock inquiry, I found the parlour doors both locked!
I returned so shivering to my queen, that she demanded the cause,
which I simply related; foreseeing inevitable destruction from
continuing to run such a hazard.  She instantly protested there
should be a new arrangement.

Dec. 4.-No opportunity offered yesterday for my better security,
and therefore I was again exposed this morning to the cold dark
damp of the miserable passage.  The account was tolerable, but a
threat of sore-throat accelerated the reform.

It was now settled that the dining-parlour should be made over
for the officers of state who came upon business to the house,
and who hitherto had waited in the hall; and the room which was
next to Mrs. Schwellenberg's, and which had first been mine, was
now made our salle à manger.  By this means, the parlour being
taken away for other people, and by command relinquished, I
obtained once again the freedom of entering it, to 'gather my
account for her majesty.  But the excess of ill-will awakened by
my obtaining this little privilege, which was actually necessary
to my very life, was so great, that more of personal offence and
harshness could not have been shown to the most guilty of
culprits.

One of the pages acquainted me his majesty was not worse, and the
night had been as usual.  As usual, too, was my day sad and
solitary all the morning--not solitary but worse during dinner
and coffee.

just after it, however, came the good and sweet Mr. Smelt.

Page 274

The Prince of Wales sent for him, and condescended to apologise
for the Windsor transaction, and to order he might regain
admission.

How this was brought about I am not clear: I only know it is
agreed by all parties that the prince has the faculty of making
his peace, where he wishes it, with the most captivating grace In
the world.


                         A NEW PHYSICIAN SUMMONED.

Mr. Fairly told me this evening that Dr. Willis, a physician of
Lincoln, of peculiar skill and practice in intellectual maladies,
had been sent for by express.  The poor queen had most painfully
concurred in a measure which seemed to fix the nature of the
king's attack in the face of the world; but the necessity and
strong advice had prevailed over her repugnance.

Dec. 6.-Mr. Fairly came to me, to borrow pen and ink for a few
memorandums.  Notwithstanding much haste.  he could not, he said,
go till he had acquainted me with the opening of Dr. Willis with
his royal patient.  I told him there was nothing I more anxiously
wished to hear.

He then gave me the full narration, interesting, curious,
extraordinary; full of promise and hope.  He is extremely pleased
both with the doctor and his son, Dr. John, he says they are
fine, lively, natural, independent characters.

Sunday, Dec. 7.-Very bad Was this morning's account.   Lady
Charlotte Finch read prayers to the queen and princess, and Lady
Courtown, and the rest for themselves.  M r. Fairly wishes her
majesty would summon a chaplain, and let the house join in
congregation.  I think he is right, as far as the house extends
to those who are still admitted into her majesty's presence.

Dec. 8.-The accounts began mending considerably, and hope broke
in upon all.

Dec. 9.---All gets now into a better channel, and the dear royal
invalid gives every symptom of amendment.  God be praised!

Dec. 11.-To-day We have had the fairest hopes: the king took his
first walk in Kew garden! There have been impediments to this
trial hitherto, that have been thought insurmountable, though, in
fact, they were most frivolous.  The walk seemed to do him good,
and we are all in better

Page 275

spirits about him than for this many and many a long day past.



                      MRS. SCHWELLENBERG'S OPINION OF MR. FAIRLY.
Dec. 12.-This day passed in much the same manner.  Late in the
evening, after Mr. Smelt was gone, Mrs. Schwellenberg began
talking about Mr. Fairly, and giving free vent to all her strong
innate aversion to him.  She went back to the old history of the
"newseepaper," and gave to his naming it every unheard motive of
spite, disloyalty, and calumny! three qualities which I believe
equally and utterly unknown to him.  He was also, she said, "very
onfeeling, for she had heard him laugh prodigious with the Lady
Waldegraves, Perticleer with lady Carlisle, what you call Lady
Elizabeth her sister, and this in the king's illness."  And, in
fine, she could not bear him.

Such gross injustice I could not hear quietly.  I began a warm
defence, protesting I knew no one whose heart was more feelingly
devoted to the royal family, except, perhaps, Mr. Smelt; and that
as to his laughing, it must have been at something of passing and
accidental amusement, since he was grave even to melancholy,
except when he exerted his spirits for the relief or
entertainment of others.

Equally amazed and provoked, she disdainfully asked me what I
knew of him?

I made no answer.  I was not quite prepared for the
interrogatory, and feared she might next inquire when and where I
had seen him?

My silence was regarded as self-conviction of error, and she
added, "I know you can't not know him; I know he had never seen
you two year and half ago; when you came here he had not heard
your name."

"Two years and a half," I answered coolly, "I did not regard as a
short time for forming a judgment of any one's character."

"When you don't not see them ? You have never seen him, I am
sure, but once, or what you call twice."

I did not dare let this pass, it was so very wide from the truth;
but calmly said I had seen him much oftener than once or twice.
"And where? when have you seen him?"

"Many times; and at Cheltenham constantly; but never to observe
in him anything but honour and goodness."

"O ver well! you don't not know him like me, you can't

Page 276
not know him; he is not from your acquaintance--I know that ver
well!"

She presently went on by herself.  "You could not know such a
person--he told me the same himself: he told me he had not never
seen you when you first came.  You might see him at Cheltenham,
that is true; but nothing others, I am
sure.  At Windsor there was no tea, not wonce, so you can't not
have seen him, only at Cheltenham."

I hardly knew whether to laugh or be frightened at this width of
error; nor, indeed, whether it was not all some artifice to draw
me out, from pique, into some recital: at all events I thought it
best to say nothing, for she was too affronting to deserve to be
set right.

She went on to the same purpose some time, more than insinuating
that a person such as Mr. Fairly could never let him self down to
be acquainted with me; till finding me too much offended to think
her assertions worth answering, she started, at last, another
subject.  I then forced myself to talk much as usual.  But how
did I rejoice when the clock struck ten--how wish it had been
twelve!


                       THE KING'S VARYING CONDITION.

Dec. 15.-This whole day was passed in great internal agitation
throughout the house, as the great and important business of the
Regency was to be discussed to-morrow in Parliament.  All is now
too painful and intricate for writing a word.  I begin to confine
my memorandums almost wholly to my own personal proceedings.

Dec. 16.-Whatsoever might pass in the House on this momentous
subject, it sat so late that no news could arrive. Sweeter and
better news, however, was immediately at hand than any the whole
senate could transmit; the account from the pages was truly
cheering.  With what joy did I hasten with it to the queen, who
immediately ordered me to be its welcome messenger to the three
princesses.  And when Mr. Smelt came to my breakfast, with what
rapture did he receive it! seizing and kissing my hand, while his
eyes ran over, and joy seemed quite to bewitch him.  He flew away
in a very few minutes, to share his happiness with his faithful
partner.

After breakfast I had a long conference in the parlour with Sir
Lucas Pepys, who justly gloried in the advancement of his
original prediction; but there had been much dissension
Page 277

amongst the physicians, concerning the bulletin to go to St.
James's, no two agreeing in the degree of better to be announced
to the world.

Dr. Willis came in while we were conversing, but instantly
retreated, to leave us undisturbed.  He looks a very fine old
man.  I wish to be introduced to him.  Mr. Smelt and Mr. Fairly
are both quite enchanted with all the family; for another son
now, a clergyman, Mr.  Thomas Willis, has joined their forces.

Dec. 17.-MY account this morning was most afflictive once more:
it was given by Mr. Hawkins, and was cruelly subversive of all
our rising hopes.  I carried it to the queen in trembling but she
bore it most mildly.  What resignation is hers!

Dec. 22.-With what joy did I carry, this morning, an exceeding
good account of the king to my royal mistress!  It was trebly
welcome., as much might depend upon it in the resolutions of the
House concerning the Regency, which was of to-day's discussion.

Mr. Fairly took leave, for a week, he said, wishing me my health,
while I expressed my own wishes for his good journey But, in
looking forward to a friendship the most permanent, saw the
eligibility of rendering it the most open.  I therefore went back
to Mrs. Schwellenberg; and the moment I received a reproach for
staying so long, I calmly answered, "Mr. Fairly had made me a
visit, to take leave before he went into the country."

Amazement was perhaps never more indignant.  Mr. Fairly to take
leave of me! while not once he even called upon her! This offence
swallowed up all other comments upon the communication.  I seemed
not to understand it; but we had a terrible two hours and a-half.
Yet to such, now, I may look forward without any mixture, any
alleviation, for evening after evening in this sad abode.

N.B.  My own separate adventures for this month, and year,
concluded upon this day.

The king went on now better, now worse, in a most fearful manner;
but Sir Lucas Pepys never lost sight of hope, and the management
of Dr. Willis and his two sons was most wonderfully acute and
successful.  Yet so much were they perplexed and tormented by the
interruptions given to their plans and methods, that they were
frequently almost tempted to resign the undertaking from anger
and confusion.

Page 278

                          DR. WILLIS AND His SON.

Kew Palace, Thursday, Jan. 1, 1789.-The year opened with an
account the most promising of our beloved king.  I saw Dr,
Willis, and he told me the night had been very tranquil and he
sent for his son, Dr. John Willis, to give me a history of the
morning.  Dr. John's narration was in many parts very affecting:
the dear and excellent king had been praying for his own
restoration!  Both the doctors told me that such strong symptoms
of true piety had scarce ever been discernible through so
dreadful a malady.

How I hastened to my queen!--and with what alacrity I besought
permission to run next to the princesses!  It was so sweet, so
soothing, to open a new year with the solace of anticipated good!

Jan. 3.-I have the great pleasure, now, of a change in my
morning's historiographers; I have made acquaintance with Dr.
Willis and his son, and they have desired me to summon one of
them constantly for my information.  I am extremely struck with
both these physicians.  Dr. Willis is a man of ten thousand;
open, holiest, dauntless, lighthearted, innocent, and high
minded: I see him impressed with the most animated reverence and
affection for his royal patient; but it is wholly for his
character,--not a whit for his rank.

Dr. John, his eldest son, is extremely handsome, and inherits, in
a milder degree, all the qualities of his father; but living
more in the general world, and having his fame and fortune still
to settle, he has not yet acquired the same courage, nor is he,
by nature, quite so sanguine in his opinions.  The manners of
both are extremely pleasing, and they both proceed completely
their own way, not merely unacquainted with court etiquette, but
wholly, and most artlessly, unambitious to form any such
acquaintance.

Jan. 11.-This morning Dr. John gave me but a bad account of the
poor king.  His amendment is not progressive; it fails, and goes
back, and disappoints most grievously; yet it would be nothing
were the case and its circumstances less discussed,
and were expectation more reasonable.

Jan. 12.-A melancholy day: news bad both at home and abroad.  At
home the dear unhappy king still worse--abroad new examinations
voted of the physicians!  Good heaven! what an insult does this
seem from parliamentary power, to investigate and bring forth to
the world every circumstance Of

Page 279
such a malady as is ever held sacred to secrecy in the most
private families!  How indignant we all feel here no words can
say.


                            LEARNING IN WOMEN.

Jan. 13.-The two younger Willises, Dr. John and Mr.  Thomas, came
upstairs in the afternoon, to make a visit to Mrs. Schwellenberg.
I took the opportunity to decamp to my own room, where I found
Mr. Fairly in waiting.

In the course of conversation that followed, Mrs. Carter was
named: Mr. Smelt is seriously of opinion her ode is the best in
our language.(301)  I spoke of her very highly, for indeed I
reverence her.

Learning in women was then Our theme.  I rather wished to hear
than to declaim upon this subject, yet I never seek to disguise
that I think it has no recommendation of sufficient value to
compensate its evil excitement of envy and satire.

He spoke with very uncommon liberality on the female powers and
intellects, and protested he had never, in his commerce with the
world, been able to discern any other inferiority in their parts
than what resulted from their Pursuits -and yet, with all this,
he doubted much whether he had ever seen any woman who might not
have been rather better without than with the learned languages,
one only excepted.

He was some time silent, and I could not but suppose he meant his
correspondent, Miss Fuzilier; but, with a very tender sigh, he
said, "And she was my mother,--who neglected nothing else, while
she cultivated Latin, and who knew it very well, and would have
known it very superiorly, but that her brother disliked her
studying, and one day burnt all her books!"

This anecdote led to one in return, from myself.  I told him,
briefly the history of Dr. Johnson's most kind condescension, in
desiring to make me his pupil, and beginning to give me regular
lessons of the Latin language, and i proceeded to the speedy
conclusion--my great apprehension,-- conviction rather,--that
what I learnt of so great a man could never be private, and that
he himself would contemn concealment, if any

Page 280

progress should be made; which to Me was sufficient motive for
relinquishing the scheme, and declining the honour, highly as I
valued it, of obtaining Such a master--"and this," I added,
"though difficult to be done without offending,
was yet the better effected, as my father himself likes and
approves all accomplishments for women better than the dead
languages."



                    THE QUEEN AND MR. FAIRLY'S VISITS.

Jan. 14.-I must now mention a rather singular conversation.  I
had no opportunity last night to name, as usual, my visitor; but
I have done it so often, so constantly indeed, that I was not
uneasy In the omission.

But this morning, while her hair was dressing, my royal Mistress
suddenly said, "Did you see any body yesterday?" I could not but
be sure of her meaning, and though vexed to be anticipated in my
avowal, which had but waited the departure of the wardrobe-woman,
Sandys, I instantly answered, "Yes, ma'am; Mr, Smelt in the
morning and Mr. Fairly in the evening."

"O! Mr. Fairly was here, then?"

I was now doubly sorry she should know this only from me!  He had
Mentioned being just come from town, but I had concluded Lady
Charlotte Finch, as usual, knew of his arrival, and had made it
known to her Majesty.  A little while after,--"Did he go away
from you early?" she said.

"No, ma'am," I Immediately answered, "not early: he drank tea
with Me, as he generally does, I believe, when he is here for the
night."

"Perhaps," cried she after a pause, "the gentlemen below do not
drink tea."

"I cannot tell, ma'am, I never heard him say; I only know he
asked me if I would give him some, and I told him yes, with great
pleasure."

Never did I feel so happy in unblushing consciousness of internal
liberty as in this little catechism!  However, I soon found I had
Mistaken the Motive of the catechism: it was not on account of
Mr. Fairly and his visit; it was all for Mrs. Schwellenberg and
her no visits; for she soon dropped something of "poor Mrs.
Schwellenberg" and her Miserable state, that opened her whole
meaning.

Page 281

                          A MELANCHOLY BIRTHDAY.

Sunday, Jan. 18.-The public birthday of my poor royal mistress.
How sadly did she pass it; and how was I filled With sorrow for
her reflections upon this its first anniversary for these last
twenty-eight years in which the king and the nation have not
united in its celebration!  All now was passed over in silence
and obscurity; all observance of the day was prohibited, both
abroad and at home.

The poor king whose attention to times and dates is unremittingly
exact, knew the day, and insisted upon seeing the queen and three
of the princesses; but--it was not a good day.


                           MR. FAIRLY ON FANS.


Jan. 21.-I came to my room; and there, in my own corner, sat poor
Mr. Fairly, looking a little forlorn, and telling me he had been
there near an hour.  I made every apology that could mark in the
strongest manner how little I thought his patience worth such
exertion. . . .

He was going to spend the next day at St. Leonard's, where he was
to meet his son; and he portrayed to me the character of Mrs.
Harcourt so fairly and favourably, that her flightiness sunk away
on the rise of her good qualities.  He spoke of his chapel of St.
Catherine's, its emoluments, chaplain, brothers, sisters, and
full establishment.

Finding I entered into nothing, he took up a fan which lay on my
table, and began playing off various imitative airs with it,
exclaiming, "How thoroughly useless a toy!"

"No," I said; "on the contrary, taken as an ornament, it was the
most useful ornament of any belonging to full dress, occupying
the hands, giving the eyes something to look at, and taking away
stiffness and formality from the figure and deportment."

"Men have no fans," cried he, "and how do they do?"

"Worse," quoth I, plumply.

He laughed quite out, saying, "That's ingenuous, however; and,
indeed, I must confess they are reduced, from time to time, to
shift their hands from one pocket to another."

"Not, to speak of lounging about in their chairs from one side to
another."

"But the real use of a fan," cried he, "if there is any, is it
not--to hide a particular blush that ought not to appear?"

Page 282

"O, no; it Would rather make it the sooner noticed."
"Not at all; it may be done under pretence of absence--rubbing
the cheek, or nose--putting it up accidentally to the eye--in a
thousand ways."

He went through all these evolutions comically enough, and then,
putting aside his toy, came back to graver matters.


                     MR. FAIRLY CONTINUES HIS VISITS:
                    THE QUEEN AGAIN REMARKS UPON THEM.

Jan. 26.-In the evening Mr. Fairly came to tea.  He was grave,
and my reception did not make him gayer.  General discourse took
place till Mrs. Dickenson happened to be named.  He knew her very
well as Miss Hamilton.  Her conjugal conduct, in displaying her
Superior power over her husband, was our particular theme, till
in the midst of it he exclaimed, "How well you will be trained in
by Mrs. Schwellenberg--if you come to trial!"

Ah! thought I, the more I suffer through her, the less and less
do I feel disposed to run any new and more lasting risk, But I
said not this.  I only protested I was much less her humble
servant than might be supposed.

"How can that be," cried he, "when you never contest any one
point with her?"

Not, I said, in positive wrangling, which could never answer its
horrible pain; but still I refused undue obedience when exacted
with indignity, and always hastened to retire when offended and
affronted.

He took up Mrs. Smith's "Emmeline,"(302) which is just lent me by
the queen; but he found it not piquant and putting it down,
begged me to choose him a Rambler." I had a good deal of
difficulty In my decision, as he had already seen almost all I
could particularly wish to recommend; and, when he saw me turn
over leaf after leaf with some hesitation, he began a serious
reproach to me of inflexible reserve.  And then away he went.

I hastened immediately to Mrs. Schwellenberg; and found all in a
tumult.  She had been, she said, alone all the evening, and was
going to have sent for me, but found I had my company.  She sent
for Mlle. Montmoulin but she had a cold; for Miss Gomme, but she
could not come because of the snow;

Page 283

for Miss Planta but she was ill with a fever, "what you call
head-ache:" she had then "sent to princess royal, who had been to
her, and pitied her ver moch, for princess royal was really
sensible."

And all this was communicated with a look of accusation, and a
tone of menace, that might have suited an attack upon some
hardened felon. . . .

I made no sort of apology nor any other answer than that I had
had the honour of Mr. Fairly's company to tea, which was always a
pleasure to me.

I believe something like consciousness whispered her here, that
it might really be possible his society was as pleasant as I had
found hers, for she then dropped her lamentation, and said she
thanked God she wanted nobody, not one; she could always amuse
herself, and was glad enough to be alone.

Were it but true!

I offered cards: she refused, because it was too late, though we
yet remained together near two hours.

If this a little disordered me, You will not think what followed
was matter of composure.  While the queen's hair was rolling up,
by the wardrobe woman, at night, Mrs. Schwellenberg happened to
leave the room, and almost instantly her majesty, in a rather
abrupt manner, said "Is Mr. Fairly here to-night?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"When did he come back?"

I could not recollect.

"I did not know he was here."

This thunderstruck me; that he should come again, or stay, at
least, without apprising his royal mistress, startled me
inwardly, and distressed me outwardly.

"I knew, indeed," she then added, "he was here in the morning,
but I understood he went away afterwards."

The idea of connivance now struck me with a real disdain, that
brought back my courage and recollection in full force, and I
answered, "I remember, ma'am, he told me he had rode over to
Richmond park at noon, and returned here to dinner with Colonel
Wellbred, and in the evening he drank tea with me, and said he
should sup with General Harcourt."

All this, spoken with an openness that rather invited than
shunned further investigation, seemed to give an immediate
satisfaction ; the tone of voice_ changed to its usual com-

Page 284
placency, and she inquired various things concerning the Stuart
family, and then spoke upon more common topics.

I concluded it now all over; but soon after Mrs. Sandys went
away, and then, very unexpectedly, the queen renewed the subject.
"The reason," she said, "that I asked about Mr. Fairly was that
the Schwellenberg sent to ask Miss Planta to come to her, because
Mr. Fairly was--no, not with her--he never goes to her."

She stopped; but I was wholly silent.  I felt instantly with how
little propriety I could undertake either to defend or to excuse
Mr. Fairly, whom I determined to consider as a visitor,, over
whom, having no particular influence, I could be charged with no
particular responsibility.

After waiting a few minutes,-"With you," she said, "Mr. Fairly
was and the Schwellenberg was alone."

My spirits quite panted at this moment to make a full Confession
of the usage I had endured from the person thus compassionated;
but I had so frequently resolved, in moments Of cool
deliberation, not even to risk doing mischief to a favourite old
servant, that I withstood the impulse ; but the inward conflict
silenced me from saying anything else.

I believe she was surprised but she added, after a long pause, "I
believe--he comes to you every evening when here."

"I do not know, ma'am, always, when he is here or away; but I am
always very glad to see him, for indeed his visits make all the
little variety that--"

I hastily stopped, lest she should think me discontented with
this strict confinement during this dreadful season ; and that I
can never be, when it is not accompanied by tyranny and
injustice.

She immediately took up the word, but without the slightest
displeasure.  "Why here there might be more variety than
anywhere, from the nearness to town, except for--"

" The present situation of things."  I eagerly interrupted her to
say, and went on: "Indeed, ma'am, I have scarce a wish to break
into the present arrangement, by seeing anybody while the house
is in this state; nor have I, from last October, seen one human
being that does not live here, except Mr. Smelt, Mr. Fairly, and
Sir Lucas Pepys; and they all come upon their own calls, and not
for me."

"The only objection," she gently answered, "to seeing anybody, is
that every one who comes carries some sort of information away
with them."

Page 285

I assured her I was perfectly content to wait for better
times, Here the matter dropped ; she appeared satisfied with what
I said, and became soft and serene as before the little attack.

Jan. 27.-The intelligence this morning was not very pleasant.  I
had a conference afterwards with Sir Lucas Pepys, who keeps up
undiminished hope.  We held our council in the physicians' room,
which chanced to be empty; but before it broke up Colonel
Wellbred entered.  It was a pleasure to me to see him, though
somewhat an embarrassment to hear him immediately lament that we
never met, and add that he knew not in what manner to procure
himself that pleasure.  I joined in the lamentation, and its
cause, which confined us all to our cells.  Sir Lucas declared my
confinement menaced my health, and charged me to walk out, and
take air and exercise very sedulously, if I would avoid an
illness.

Colonel Wellbred instantly offered me a key of Richmond gardens,
which opened into them by a nearer door than what was used in
common.  I accepted his kindness, and took an hour's walk,-for
the first time since last October; ten minutes in Kew gardens are
all I have spent without doors since the middle of that month.


                        THE SEARCH FOR MR. FAIRLY.

Jan. 30.-To-day my poor royal mistress received the address of
the Lords and Commons, of condolence, etc., upon his majesty's
illness.  What a painful, but necessary ceremony!  It was most
properly presented by but few members, and those almost all
chosen from the household: a great propriety.

Not long after came Mr. Fairly, looking harassed.  "May I," he
cried, "come in?--and-for an hour?  Can you allow me entrance and
room for that time?"

Much Surprised, for already it was three o'clock, I assented: he
then told me he had something to copy for her majesty, which was
of the highest importance, and said he could find no quiet room
in the house but mine for such a business.  I gave him every
accommodation in my power.  When he had written a few lines, he
asked if I was very busy, or could help him ? Most readily I
offered my services, and then I read to him the original,
sentence by sentence, to facilitate his copying; receiving his
assurances of my "great assistance" every two lines.  In the
midst of this occupation,

Page 286

a tap at my door made me precipitately put down the paper to
receive-lady Charlotte Finch!

"Can you," she cried, "have the goodness to tell me any thing of
Mr. Fairly?"

The screen had hidden him; but, gently,--though, I believe ill
enough pleased,--he called out himself, "Here is Mr. Fairly."

She flew up to him, crying, "O, Mr. Fairly, what a search has
there been for you, by the queen's orders !  She has wanted you
extremely, and no one knew where to find you.  They have been to
the waiting-room, to the equerries', all over the garden, to the
prince's house, in your own room, and could find you nowhere, and
at last they thought you were gone back to town."

He calmly answered, while he still wrote on, he was sorry they
had had so much trouble, for he had only been executing her
majesty's commands.

She then hesitated a little, almost to stammering, in adding
"So--at last--I said--that perhaps--you might be here!"

He now raised his head from the paper, and bowing it towards me,
"Yes," he cried, "Miss Burney is so good as to give me leave, and
there is no other room in the house in Which I can be at rest."

"So I told her majesty," answered Lady Charlotte, "though she
said she was sure you could not be here ; but I said there was
really no room of quiet here for any business, and so then I came
to see."

"Miss Burney," he rejoined, "has the goodness also to help me--
she has taken the trouble to read as I go on, which forwards me
very much."

Lady Charlotte stared, and I felt sorry at this confession of a
confidence she could not but think too much, and I believe he
half repented it, for he added, "This, however, you need not
perhaps mention, though I know where I trust!"

He proceeded again with his writing, and she then recollected her
errand.  She told him that what he was copying was to be carried
to town by Lord Aylesbury, but the queen desired to see it first.
 She then returned to her majesty.

She soon, however, returned again.  She brought the queen's seal,
and leave that he might make up the packet, and give it to Lord
Aylesbury, without showing it first to her majesty, who was just
gone to dinner.  With her customary good-humour

Page 287

and good-breeding, she then chatted with me some time, and again
departed.

We then went to work with all our might, reading and copying.
The original was extremely curious--I am sorry I must make it
equally secret.


             Miss BURNEY's ALARM ON BEING CHASED BY THE KING.
Kew Palace, Monday, Feb. 2.-What an adventure had I this morning!
one that has occasioned me the severest personal terror I ever
experienced in my life.

Sir Lucas Pepys still persisting that exercise and air were
absolutely necessary to save me from illness, I have continued my
walks, varying my gardens from Richmond to Kew, according to the
accounts I received of the movements of the king.  For this I had
her majesty's permission, on the representation of Sir Lucas.
This morning, when I received my intelligence of the king from
Dr. John Willis, I begged to know where I might walk in safety?
"In Kew gardens," he said, "as the king would be in Richmond."

"Should any unfortunate circumstance," I cried, "at any time,
occasion my being seen by his majesty, do not mention my name,
but let me run off without call or notice." This he promised.
Everybody, indeed, is ordered to keep out of sight.  Taking,
therefore, the time I had most at command, I strolled into the
gardens.  I had proceeded, in my quick way, nearly half the
round, when I suddenly perceived, through some trees, two or
three figures.  Relying on the instructions of Dr. John, I
concluded them to be workmen and gardeners; yet tried to look
sharp, and in so doing, as they were less shaded, I thought I saw
the person of his majesty!

Alarmed past all possible expression, I waited not to know more,
but turning back, ran off with all my might.  But what was my
terror to hear myself pursued!--to hear the voice of the king
himself loudly and hoarsely calling after me, "MISS Burney! Miss
Burney!

I protest I was ready to die.  I knew not in what state he might
be at the time; I only knew the orders to keep out of his way
were universal; that the queen would highly disapprove any
unauthorized meeting, and that the very action of my running away
might deeply, in his present irritable state,
offend him.  Nevertheless, on I ran, too terrified to stop, and
Page 288

In search Of some short passage, for the g)arden is full of
labyrinths, by which I might escape.

The steps still pursued me, and Still the poor hoarse and altered
voice rang in my ears:--more and more footsteps sounded
frightfully behind me,--the attendants all running to catch their
eager master, and the voices of the two Doctor Willises loudly
exhorting him not to heat himself so unmercifully.

Heavens, how I ran!  I do not think I should have felt the hot
lava from Vesuvius--at least not the hot cinders--hadd I so run
during its eruption.  My feet were not sensible that they even
touched the ground.

Soon after, I heard other voices, shriller, though less nervous,
call out "Stop! stop! stop!"

I could by no means consent: I knew not what was purposed, but I
recollected fully my agreement with Dr. John that very morning,
that I should decamp if Surprised, and not b named.  My own fears
and repugnance, also, after a flight and disobedience like this,
were doubled in the thought of not
escaping; I knew not to what I might be exposed, should the
malady be then high, and take the turn of resentment.  Still,
therefore, on I flew; and such was my speed, so almost incredible
to relate or recollect, that I fairly believe no one of the whole
party could have overtaken me, if these words, from one of the
attendants, had not reached me, "Doctor Willis begs you to stop!"


"I cannot! I cannot!" I answered, still flying on, when he called
out, "You must, ma'am; it hurts the king to run."

Then, indeed, I stopped--in a state of fear really amounting to
agony.  I turned round, I saw the two doctors had got the king
between them, and three attendants of Dr. Willis's were hovering
about.  They all slackened their pace, as they saw me stand
still; but such was the excess of my alarm, that I was wholly
insensible to the effects of a race which, at any other time,
would have required an hour's recruit.

As they approached, some little presence of mind happily came to
my command it occurred to me that, to appease the wrath of my
flight, I must now show some confidence: I therefore faced them
as undauntedly as I was able, only charging the nearest of the
attendants to stand by my side.

When they were within a few yards of me, the king called out,
"Why did you run away?"

Shocked at a question impossible to answer, yet a little

Page 289

assured by the mild tone of his voice, I instantly forced myself
forward, to meet him, though the internal sensation which
satisfied me this was a step the most proper, to appease his
suspicions and displeasure, was so violently combated by the
tremor of my nerves, that I fairly think I may reckon it the
greatest effort of personal courage-I have ever made.



                   A ROYAL SALUTE AND ROYAL CONFIDENCES.

The effort answered : I looked up, and met all his wonted
benignity of countenance, though something still of wildness in
his eyes.  Think, however, of my surprise, to feel him put both
his hands round my two shoulders, and then kiss my cheek ! * I
wonder I did not really sink, so exquisite was my affright when I
saw him spread out his arms! Involuntarily, I concluded he meant
to crush me: but the Willises, who have never seen him till this
fatal illness, not knowing how very extraordinary an action this
was from him, simply smiled and looked pleased, supposing,
perhaps, it was his customary salutation!

I believe, however, it was but the joy of a heart unbridled, now,
by the forms and proprieties of established custom and sober
reason.  To see any of his household thus by accident, seemed
such a near approach to liberty and recovery, that who can wonder
it should serve rather to elate than lessen what yet remains of
his disorder!

He now spoke in such terms of his pleasure in seeing me, that I
soon lost the whole of my terror; astonishment to find him so
nearly well, and gratification to see him so pleased, removed
every uneasy feeling, and the joy that succeeded, in my
conviction of his recovery, made me ready to throw myself at his
feet to express it.

What conversation followed! When he saw me fearless, he grew more
and more alive, and made me walk close by his side, away from the
attendants, and even the Willises themselves, who, to indulge
him, retreated.  I own myself not completely composed, but alarm
I could entertain no more.

Everything that came uppermost in his mind he mentioned; he
seemed to have just such remains of his flightiness as heated his
imagination without deranging his reason, and robbed him of all
control over his speech, though nearly in his perfect state Of
mind as to his opinions.  What did he not say !--He opened

Page 290

his whole heart to me,--expounded all his sentiments, and
acquainted me with all his intentions.

The heads of his discourse I must give you briefly, as I am sure
you will be highly curious to hear them, and as no accident can
render of much consequence what a man says in such a state of
physical intoxication.  He assured me he was quite well--as well
as he had ever been in his life ; and then inquired how I did,
and how I went on? and whether I was more comfortable?  If these
questions, in their implications, surprised me, imagine how that
surprise must increase when he proceeded to explain them!  He
asked after the coadjutrix, laughing, and saying "Never mind
her!--don't be oppressed--I am your friend! don't let her cast
you down!--I know you have a hard time of it--but don't mind
her!"

Almost thunderstruck with astonishment, I merely curtsied to his
kind "I am your friend," and said nothing.  Then presently he
added, "Stick to your father--stick to your own family--let them
be your objects."

How readily I assented!
Again he repeated all I have just written, nearly in the same
words, but ended it more seriously: He suddenly stopped, and held
me to stop too, and putting his hand on his breast.  in the most
solemn manner, he gravely and slowly said, "I will protect you!--
I promise you that--and therefore depend upon me!"

I thanked him ; and the Willises, thinking him rather too
elevated, came to propose my walking on.  "No, no, no!" he cried,
a hundred times in a breath and their good humour prevailed, and
they let him again walk on with his new Companion.

He then gave me a history of his pages, animating almost into a
rage, as he related his subjects of displeasure with them,
particularly with Mr. Ernst, who he told me had been brought up
by himself.  I hope his ideas upon these men are the result of
the mistakes of his malady.

Then he asked me some questions that very greatly &stressed me,
relating to information given him in his illness, from various
motives, but which he suspected to be false, and which I knew he
had reason to suspect: yet was It most dangerous to set anything
right, as I was not aware what might be the views of their having
been stated wrong.  I was as discreet as I knew how to be, and I
hope I did no mischief; but this was the worst part of the
dialogue.

Page 291

He next talked to me a great deal of my dear father, and
made a thousand inquiries concerning his "History of Music."
This brought him to his favourite theme, Handel; and he told  me
innumerable anecdotes of him, and particularly that celebrated
tale of Handel's saying of himself, when a boy, "While that boy
lives, my music will never want a protector." And this, he said,
I might relate to my father.  Then he ran over
most of his oratorios, attempting to sing the subjects of several
airs and choruses, but so dreadfully hoarse that the sound was
terrible.

Dr. Willis, quite alarmed at this exertion, feared he would do
himself harm, and again proposed a separation.  " "No! no! no!"
he exclaimed, "not yet; I have something I must just mention
first."

Dr. Willis, delighted to comply, even when uneasy at compliance,
again gave way.  The good king then greatly affected me.  He
began upon my revered old friend, Mrs. Delany and he spoke of her
with such warmth--such kindness!  "She was my friend!" he cried,
"and I loved her as a friend!  I have made a memorandum when I
lost her--I will show it YOU."

He pulled out a pocket-book, and rummaged some time, but to no
purpose.  The tears stood in his eyes--he wiped them, and Dr.
Willis again became very anxious.  "Come, sir," he cried, "now do
you come in and let the lady go on her walk,-come, now you have
talked a long while,-so we'll go in,--if your majesty pleases."

"No, no!" he cried, "I want to ask her a few questions ; --I have
lived so long out of the world, I know nothing!"

This touched me to the heart.  We walked on together, and he
inquired after various persons, particularly Mrs. Boscawen,
because she was Mrs. Delany's friend!  Then, for the same reason,
after Mr. Frederick Montagu,(303) of whom he kindly said,  "I
know he has a great regard for me, for all he joined the
opposition." Lord Grey de Wilton, Sir Watkin Wynn, the Duke of
Beaufort, and various others, followed.  He then told me he was
very much dissatisfied with several of his state officers, and
meant to form an entire new establishment.  He took a paper out
of his pocket-book, and showed me his new list.

Page 292

This was the wildest thing that passed ; and Dr. John Willis now
seriously urged our separating; but he would not consent he had
only three more words to say, he declared, and again he
conquered.

He now spoke of my father, with still more kindness, and told me
he ought to have had the post of master of the band, and not that
little poor musician Parsons, who was not fit for it: "But Lord
Salisbury," he cried, "used your father vary ill in that
business, and so he did me!  However, I have dashed out his name,
and I shall put your father's in,--as soon as I
get loose again!"

This again--how affecting was this!

"And what," cried he,"has your father got, at last?  nothing but
that poor thing at Chelsea?(304) O fie! fie! fie! But never mind!
I will take care of him.  I will do it myself!"  Then presently
he added, "As to Lord Salisbury, he is out already, as this
memorandum will Show you, and so are many more.  I shall be much
better served and when once I get away, I shall rule with a rod
of iron!"

This was very unlike himself, and startled the two good doctors,
who could not bear to cross him, and were exulting at seeing his
great amendment, but yet grew quite uneasy at his earnestness and
volubility.  Finding we now must part, he stopped to take leave,
and renewed again his charges about the coadjutrix.  "Never mind
her!" he cried, "depend upon me! I will be your friend as long as
I live--I here pledge myself to be your friend!"  And then he
saluted me again just as at the meeting, and suffered me to go
on.

What a scene! how variously was I affected by it! but, upon the
whole, how inexpressibly thankful to see him so nearly himself--
so little removed from recovery!


         CURIOSITY REGARDING Miss BURNEY'S MEETING WITH THE KING.

I went very soon after to the queen to whom I was most eager to
avow the meeting, and how little I could help it.  Her
astonishment, and her earnestness to hear every particular, were
very great.  I told her almost all.  Some few things relating to
the distressing questions I could not repeat nor
Page 293

many things said of Mrs. Schwellenberg, which would much, very
needlessly, have hurt her.

This interview, and the circumstances belonging to it, excited
general curiosity, and all the house watched for opportunities to
beg a relation of it.  How delighted was I to tell them all my
happy prognostics!

But the first to hasten to hear of it was Mr. Smelt; eager and
enchanted was the countenance and attention of that truly loyal
and most affectionate adherent to his old master.  He wished me
to see Lady Harcourt and the general, and to make them a brief
relation of this extraordinary rencounter but for that I had not
effort enough left.

I did what I Could, however, to gratify the curiosity of Colonel
Wellbred, which I never saw equally excited.  I was passing him
on the stairs, and he followed me, to say he had heard what had
happened--I imagine from the Willises.  I told him, with the
highest satisfaction, the general effect produced upon my mind by
the accident, that the king seemed so nearly, himself, that
patience itself could have but little longer trial.  He wanted to
hear more particulars: I fancy the Willises had vaguely related
some: "Did he not," he cried, "promise to do something for you?"
I only laughed, and answered, "O yes! if you want any thing,
apply to me;--now is my time!"

Feb. 3.--I had the great happiness to be assured this morning, by
both the Dr. Willises, that his majesty was by no means the worse
for our long conference.  Those good men are inexpressibly happy
themselves in the delightful conviction given me, and by me
spread about, of the near recovery of their royal patient.

While I was dressing came Mr. Fairly: I could not admit him, but
he said he would try again in the evening.  I heard by the tone
of his voice a peculiar eagerness, and doubted not he was
apprized of my adventure.

He came early, before I could leave my fair companion, and sent
on Goter.  I found him reading a new pamphlet of Horne Tooke:
"How long," he cried, "it is since I have been here!"

I was not flippantly disposed, or I would have said I had thought
the time he spent away always short, by his avowed eagerness to
decamp.

He made so many inquiries of how I had gone on and what I had
done since I saw him, that I was soon satisfied he was

Page 294
not uninformed of yesterday's transaction.  I told him so; he
could not deny it, but wished to hear the whole from myself.

I most readily complied.  He listened with the most eager, nay,
anxious attention, scarce breathing: he repeatedly ex_ claimed,
when I had finished, "How I wish I had been there! how I should
have liked to have seen you!"

I assured him he would not wish that, if he knew the terror I had
suffered.  He was quite elated with the charges against Cerberic
tyranny, and expressed himself gratified by the promises of
favour and protection.


                             THE REGENCY BILL.

Feb. 6.-These last three days have been spent very unpleasantly
indeed: all goes hardly and difficultly with my poor royal
mistress.

Yet his majesty is now, thank heaven, so much better, that he
generally sees his gentlemen in some part of the evening; and Mr.
Fairly, having no particular taste for being kept in waiting
whole hours for this satisfaction of a few minutes, yet finding
himself, if in the house, indispensably required to attend with
the rest, has changed his Kew visits from nights to mornings.

He brought me the "Regency Bill!"--I shuddered to hear it named.
It was just printed, and he read it to me, with comments and
explanations, which took up all our time, and in a manner, at
present, the most deeply interesting in which it could be
occupied.

'Tis indeed a dread event!--and how it may terminate who can say?
My poor royal mistress is much disturbed.  Her daughters behave
like angels - they seem content to reside in this gloomy solitude
for ever, if it prove of comfort to their mother, or mark their
duteous affection for their father.


                          INFINITELY LICENTIOUS!

Feb. 9.-I now walk on the road-side, along the park-wall, every
fair morning, as I shall venture no more into either of the
gardens.  In returning this morning, I was overtaken by Mr.
Fairly, who rode up to me, and, dismounting, gave his horse to
his groom, to walk on with me.

About two hours after I was, however, surprised by a visit from
him in my own room, He came, he said, only to ask

Page 295
me a second time how I did, as he should be here now less and
less, the king's amendment rendering his services of smaller and
smaller importance.

He brought me a new political parody of Pope's "Eloisa to
Abelard," from Mr. Eden to Lord Hawkesbury.  It is a most daring,
though very clever imitation.  It introduces many of the present
household.  Mrs. Schwellenberg is now in eternal abuse from all
these scribblers; Lady Harcourt, and many others, less notorious
to their attacks, are here brought forward.  How infinitely
licentious!


              MISS BURNEY IS TAXED WITH VISITING GENTLEMEN.
Feb. 10.-The amendment of the king is progressive, and without
any reasonable fear, though not without some few drawbacks.  The
Willis family were surely sent by heaven to restore peace, and
health, and prosperity to this miserable house

Lady Charlotte Finch called upon me two days ago, almost
purposely, to inquire concerning the report of my young friend's
marriage; and she made me promise to acquaint her when I received
any further news: at noon, therefore, I went to her apartment at
the Prince of Wales's, with this information.  Mr. Fairly, I
knew, was with the equerries in our lodge.  Lady Charlotte had
the Duchess of Beaufort and all the Fieldings with her, and
therefore I only left a message, by no means, feeling spirits for
encountering any stranger.

At noon, when I attended her majesty, she inquired if I had
walked?--Yes.--Where?--In Richmond gardens.--And nowhere else?--
No.  She looked thoughtful,--and presently I recollected my
intended visit to Lady Charlotte, and mentioned it.  She cleared
up, and said, "O!--you.  went to Lady Charlotte?"

"Yes, ma'am," I answered, thinking her very absent,--which I
thought with sorrow, as that is so small a part of her character,
that I know not I ever saw any symptom of it before.  Nor, in
fact, as I found afterwards, did I see it now.  It was soon
explained.  Miss Gomme, Mlle. Montmoulin, and Miss Planta, all
dined with Mrs. Schwellenberg to-day.  The moment I joined them,
Mrs. Schwellenberg called out,--"Pray,
Miss Berner, for what visit you the gentlemen?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you,--and for what, I say?"

Page 296

Amazed, I declared I did not know what she meant.

"O," cried she, scoffingly, "that won't not do!--we all saw
you,--princess royal the same,--so don't not say that."

I stared,-and Miss Gomme burst out in laughter, and then Mrs.
Schwellenberg added,--"For what go you over to the Prince of
Wales his house?--nobody lives there but the gentlemen,--nobody
others."

I laughed too, now, and told her the fact.

"O," cried she, "Lady Charlotte!--ver true.  I had forgot Lady
Charlotte!"

"O, very well, imagine," cried I,--"so only the gentlemen were
remembered!"

I then found this had been related to the queen; and Mlle.
Montmoulin said she supposed the visit had been to General
Gordon!--He is the groom now in waiting.

Then followed an open raillery from Mlle. Montmoulin of Mr.
Fairly's visits; but I stood it very well, assuring her I should
never seek to get rid of my two prison-visitors, Mr. Smelt and
Mr. Fairly, till I Could replace them by better, or go abroad for
others


                    IMPROVEMENT IN THE KING'S, HEALTH.

Feb. 14.-The king is infinitely better.  O that there were
patience in the land ! and this Regency Bill postponed Two of the
princesses regularly, and in turn, attend their royal mother in
her evening visits to the king.  Some of those who stay behind
now and then spend the time in Mrs. Schwellenberg's room.  They
all long for their turn of going to the king, and count the hours
till it returns.  Their dutiful affection is truly beautiful to
behold.

This evening the Princesses Elizabeth and Mary came into Mrs.
Schwellenberg's room while I was yet there.  They sang songs in
two parts all the evening, and vary prettily in point of voice.
Their good humour, however, and inherent condescension and
sweetness of manners, would make a much worse performance
pleasing.

Feb. 16-All well, and the king is preparing for an interview with
the chancellor Dr. Willis now confides in me all his schemes and
notions; we are growing the best of friends and his son Dr. John
is nearly as trusty.  Excellent people! how I love and honour
them all!

I had a visit at noon from Mr. Fairly.  He hastened to tell

Page 297

me the joyful news that the king and queen were just gone out, to
walk in Richmond gardens, arm in arm.--what a delight to all the
house!

When I came to tea, I found Mr. Fairly waiting in my room.  He
had left Kew for Richmond park, but only dined there.  We had
much discussion of state business.  The king is SO much himself,
that he is soon to be informed of the general situation of the
kingdom.  O what an information!--how we all tremble in looking
forward to it., Mr. Fairly thinks Mr. Smelt the fittest man for
this office; Mr. Smelt thinks the same of Mr. Fairly: both have
told me this.


                        MR. FAIRLY AND MR. WINDHAM.

Mr. Fairly began soon to look at his watch, complaining very much
of the new ceremony imposed, of this attendance of handing the
Queen, which, he said, broke into his whole evening.  Yet he does
as little as possible.  "The rest of them," he said, " think it
necessary to wait in an adjoining apartment during the whole
interview, to be ready to show themselves when it is over!

He now sat with his watch in his hand, dreading to pass his time,
but determined not to anticipate its occupation, till half past
nine o'clock, when he drew on his white gloves, ready for action.
But then, stopping short, he desired me to guess whom, amongst my
acquaintance, he had met in London this last time of his going
thither.  I could not guess whom he meant--but I saw it was no
common person, by his manner.  He then continued--"A tall, thin,
meagre, sallow, black-eyed, penetrating, keen-looking figure."

I could still not guess,-and he named Mr. Windham.

"Mr. Windham!" I exclaimed, "no, indeed,--you do not describe him
fairly,-he merits better colouring."

He accuses me of being very partial to him: however, I am  angry
enough with him just now, though firmly persuaded still, that
whatever has fallen from him, that is wrong and unfeeling on the
subject of the Regency, has been the effect of his
enthusiastic friendship for Mr. Burke: for he has never risen, on
this cruel business, but in Support of that most misguided of
Vehement and wild orators.  This I have observed in the debates,
and felt that Mr. Burke was not more run away with by violence of
temper, and passion, than Mr. Windham by excess of friendship and
admiration.

Page 298
Mr. Fairly has, I fancy, been very intimate with him, for he told
me he observed he was passing him, in Queen Anne Street, and
stopped his horse, to call out, "O ho, Windham! so I see you will
not know me with this servant!"  He was on business of the
queen's, and had one of the royal grooms with him.

Mr. Windham laughed, and said he was very glad to see who it was,
for, on looking at the royal servant, he had just been going to
make his lowest bow.

"O, I thank you!" returned Mr. Fairly, "you took me, then, for
the Duke of Cumberland,"


                      THE KING CONTINUES TO IMPROVE.

Feb. 17.-The times are now most interesting and critical.  Dr.
Willis confided to me this morning that to-day the king is to see
the chancellor.  How important will be the result of his
appearance!--the whole national fate depends upon it!

Feb. 18.-I had this morning the highest gratification, the purest
feelings of delight, I have been regaled with for many months: I
saw, from the road, the king and queen, accompanied by Dr.
Willis, walking in Richmond gardens, near the farm, arm in arm!--
It was a pleasure that quite melted me, after a separation so
bitter, scenes so distressful-to witness such harmony and
security! Heaven bless and preserve them was all I could
incessantly say while I kept in their sight.  I was in the
carriage with Mrs. Schwellenberg at the time.  They saw us also,
as I heard afterwards from the queen.

In the evening Mrs. Arline, Mrs. Schwellenberg's maid, came into
Mrs. Schwellenberg's room, after coffee, and said to me, "If you
please, ma'am, somebody wants you." I concluded this somebody my
shoemaker, or the like; but in my room I saw Mr. Fairly.  He was
in high spirits.  He had seen his majesty; Dr. Willis had carried
him in.  He was received with open arms, and embraced; he found
nothing now remaining of the disorder, but too in much hurry of
spirits.  When he had related the particulars of the interview,
he suddenly exclaimed, "How amazingly well you have borne all
this!"

I made some short answers, and would have taken-refuge in some
other topic: but he seemed bent upon pursuing his own, and
started various questions and surmises, to draw me on, In vain,
however; I gave but general, or evasive answers,

Page 299

           THE KING'S HEALTH IS COMPLETELY            RESTORED.
This was a sweet, and will prove a most      memorable day:
Regency was put off, in the House    of Lords, by a motion from
the chancellor!--huzza! huzza!
And this evening,  for the first time, the king came upstairs, to
drink tea with the queen and princesses in the drawing-room!   My
heart was so full of joy and thankfulness, I could hardly
breathe!  Heaven--heaven be praised! What a different house is
this house become!--sadness and terror, that wholly occupied it
so lately, are now flown away, or rather are now driven out ; and
though anxiety still forcibly prevails, 'tis in so small a
proportion to joy and thankfulness, that it is borne as if scarce
an ill!

Feb. 23.-This morning opened wofully to me, though gaily to the
house; for as my news of his majesty was perfectly comfortable, I
ventured, in direct words, to ask leave to receive my dear
friends Mr. and Mrs. Locke, who were now in town:--in understood
sentences, and open looks, I had already failed again and again.
My answer was-" I have no particular objection, only you'll keep
them to your room." Heavens!--did they ever, unsummoned, quit it?
or have they any wish to enlarge their range of visit?  I was
silent, and then heard a history of some imprudence in Lady
Effingham, who had received some of her friends.  My resolution,
upon this, I need not mention: I preferred the most lengthened
absence to such a permission.         But I felt it acutely! and
I hoped, at least, that by taking no steps, something more
favourable might soon pass. . . .

The king I have seen again in the queen's dressing-room.  On
opening    the door, there he stood!     He smiled at my start,
and saying he had waited on purpose to see me, added, "I am quite
well now,--I was nearly so when I saw you before, but I could
overtake you better now."           And then he left the room. I
was quite melted with joy and thankfulness at this so entire
restoration.

End of February, 1789. Dieu merci!

(294) Physician-in-ordinary to the king-ED.

(295) Her tragedy of "Edwy and Elgiva," which was produced at
Drury Lane in 1795.  See note ante, vol. i., p. xlv.--ED.

(296) The "Douglas cause" was one of the causes celebres of its
tine.  Its history is briefly as follows.  In 1746 Lady Jane
Douglas married Sir John Stewart.  At Paris, in July, 1748, she
gave birth to twins, Archibald and Sholto, of whom the latter
died an infant.  Lady Jane herself died in 1753.  The surviving
child, Archibald, was always recognized as their son by Lady Jane
and Sir John.  In 1760 the Duke of Douglas, the brother of Lady
Jane, being childless, recognised his sister's son as his heir,
and bequeathed to him by will the whole of the Douglas estates,
revoking, for that purpose, a previous testament which he had
made in favour of the Hamilton family.  The Duke died in 1761,
and Archibald, who had assumed his mother's, name of Douglas,
duly succeeded to the estates.  His right, however, Was disputed
at law by the Duke of Hamilton, on the pretence, which he sought
to establish, that Archibald Douglas was not in fact the son of
his reputed mother.  The Lords of Session in Scotland decided in
favour of the Duke of Hamilton, whereupon Mr. Douglas appealed to
the House of Lords, which reversed the decision of the Scottish
court (February 2-, 1769), 1, "thereby confirming to Mr. Douglas
his Filiation and his Fortune."-ED.

(297) "Miss Fuzilier," the Diary-name for Miss Gunning, whom
Colonel Digby did subsequently marry.  "Sir R- F-" is her father,
Sir Robert Gunning.-ED,

(298) One of the apothecaries to the royal household.-ED.

(299) Dr. Richard Warren, one of the physicians in ordinary to
the king and the Prince of Wales.-ED.

(300) The Lord chancellor Thurlow.-ED.

(301) Mrs. Elizabeth Carter's "Ode to Wisdom," printed in
"Clarissa Harlowe" (vol. ii., letter x.), with a musical setting,
given as the composition of Clarisa herself.  The Ode is by no
means without merit of a modest kind, but can scarcely be ranked
the production of a genuine poet.-ED.

(302) "Emmeline, the Orphan of the Castle," a novel in four
volumes, by Charlotte Smith. Published 1788.-ED.

(303) Mr. Frederick Montagu was not only a member of the
opposition but One of the managers of the impeachment of Warren
Hastings.-ED.

(304) Burke's last act before quitting office at the close of
1783, had been to procure for Dr. Burney the post of organist to
Chelsea hospital, to which was attached a salary of fifty pounds
a year.-ED.



Page 300


                                SECTION 15.
                                  (1789-)


                           THE KING'S RECOVERY:
                         ROYAL VISIT To WEYMOUTH.

                         THE KING'S REAPPEARANCE.

Kew Palace, Sunday, March 1.-What a pleasure was mine this
morning! how solemn, but how grateful! The queen gave me the
"Prayer of Thanksgiving" upon the king's recovery.  It was this
morning read in all the churches throughout the metropolis, and
by this day week it will reach every church in the kingdom.  It
kept me in tears all the morning,--that such a moment should
actually arrive! after fears so dreadful, scenes so terrible.

The queen gave me a dozen to distribute among the female
servants: but I reserved one of them for dear Mr. Smelt, who took
it from me in speechless extacy--his fine and feeling eyes
swimming in tears of joy.  There is no describing--and I will not
attempt it--the fullness, the almost overwhelming fullness of
this morning's thankful feelings!

I had the great gratification to see the honoured object of this
joy, for a few minutes, in the queen's dressing-room.  He was all
calmness and benevolent graciousness.  I fancied my strong
emotion had disfigured me; or perhaps the whole of this long
confinement and most affecting winter may have somewhat marked my
countenance; for the king presently said to me, "Pray, are you
quite well to-day?"

" I think not quite, sir," I answered,


Page 301

"She does not look well," said he to the queen; "she looks a
little yellow, I think."

How kind, to think of anybody and their looks, at this first
moment of reappearance!


                      AN AIRING AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

Wednesday, March 4.-A message from Mrs. Schwellenberg this
morning, to ask me to air with her, received my most reluctant
acquiescence; for the frost is so severe that any air, without
exercise, is terrible to me; though, were her atmosphere milder,
the rigour of the season I might not regard.

When we came to the passage the carriage was not ready. She
murmured most vehemently; and so bitterly cold was I, I could
heartily have joined, had it answered any purpose. In this cold
passage we waited in this miserable manner a full quarter of an
hour; Mrs. Schwellenberg all the time scolding the servants,
threatening them With exile, sending message after message,
repining, thwarting, and contentious.

Now we were to go, and wait in the king's rooms--now in the
gentlemen's--now in Dr. Willis's--her own--and this, in the end,
took place.

In our way we encountered Mr. Fairly. He asked where we were
going.    "To my own parlour!" she answered.

He accompanied us in; and, to cheer the gloom, seized some of the
stores of Dr. Willis,--sandwiches, wine and water, and other
refreshments,--and brought them to us, one after another in a
sportive manner, recommending to us to break through common
rules, on such an occasion, and eat and drink to warm ourselves.
Mrs. Schwellenberg stood in stately silence, and bolt upright,
scarce deigning to speak even a refusal; till, upon his saying,
while he held a glass of wine in his hand, "Come, ma'am, do
something eccentric for once--it will warm you," she angrily
answered, "You been reely--what you call--too much hospital!"

Neither of us could help laughing.  "Yes," cried he, "with the
goods of others;--that makes a wide difference in hospitality!"
Then he rattled away upon the honours the room had lately
received, of having had Mr. Pitt, the Chancellor, Archbishop of
Canterbury, etc., to wait in it. This she resented highly, as
seeming to think it more honoured in her absence than presence.

Page 302

At length we took our miserable airing, in which I was treated
with as much fierce harshness as if I was being conveyed to some
place of confinement for the punishment Of some dreadful offence!

She would have the glass down on my side; the piercing wind cut
my face; I put my muff up to it: this incensed her so much, that
she vehemently declared "she never, no never would trobble any
won to air with her again but go always selfs."--And who will
repine at that? thought I.

Yet by night I had caught a violent cold, which flew to my face,
and occasioned me dreadful pain.

March 10.-I have been in too much pain to write these last five
days; and I became very feverish, and universally ill, affected
with the fury of the cold.

My royal mistress, who could not but observe me very unwell,
though I have never omitted my daily three attendances, which I
have performed with a difficulty all but insurmountable,
concluded I had been guilty of some imprudence: I told the simple
fact of the glass,--but quite simply, and without one
circumstance.  She instantly said she was surprised I could catch
cold in an airing, as it never appeared that it disagreed with me
when I took it with Mrs. Delany.

"No, ma'am," I immediately answered, "nor with Mrs, Locke; nor
formerly with Mrs. Thrale:--but they left me the regulation of
the glass on my own side to myself; or, if they interfered, it
was to draw it up for me."

This I could not resist.  I can be silent; but when challenged to
speak at all, it must be plain truth.

I had no answer.  Illness here--till of late--has been so
unknown, that it is commonly supposed it must be wilful, and
therefore meets little notice, till accompanied by danger, or
incapacity of duty.  This is by no means from hardness of
heart-far otherwise ; there is no hardness of heart in any one of
them ; but it is prejudice and want of personal experience.


                   ILLUMINATIONS ON THE KING's RECOVERY.

March 10.-This was a day of happiness indeed!---a day of such
heartfelt public delight as Could not but suppress all private
disturbance.  The general illumination of all London proved the
universal joy of a thankful and most affectionate people, who
have shown so largely, on this trying occasion, how well they
merited the monarch thus benignantly preserved.


Page 303
The queen, from the privy purse, gave private orders for a
Splendid illumination at this palace.(305)  The King--
Providence--Health--and Britannia, were displayed with elegant
devices; the queen and princesses, all but the youngest, went to
town to see the illumination there; and Mr. Smelt was to conduct
the surprise.--It was magnificently beautiful.

When it was lighted and prepared, the Princess Amelia went to
lead her papa to the front window: but first she dropped on -her
knees, and presented him a paper with these lines-which, at the
queen's desire, I had scribbled in her name, for the happy
occasion:--

                               TO THE KING.

Amid a rapt'rous nation's praise
That sees Thee to their prayers restor'd,
Turn gently from the gen'ral blaze,--
Thy Charlotte woos her bosom's lord.

Turn and behold where, bright and clear,
Depictur'd with transparent art,
The emblems of her thoughts appear,
The tribute of a grateful heart.

O! small the tribute, were it weigh'd
With all she feels--or half she owes!
But noble minds are best repaid
>From the pure spring whence bounty flows.

PS. The little bearer begs a kiss
>From dear papa for bringing this.

I need not, I think, tell you, the little bearer begged not in
vain.  The king was extremely pleased.  He came into a room
belonging to the princesses, in which we had a party to look at
the illuminations, and there he stayed above an hour; cheerful,
composed, and gracious! all that could merit the great national
testimony to his worth this day paid him.


                    MR FAIRLY ON MISS BURNEY's DUTIES.

Windsor, March 18.-A little rap announced Mr. Fairly, who came
in, saying, "I am escaped for a little while, to have some quiet
conversation with you, before the general assemblage and storm of
company." He then gravely said, "Tomorrow I shall take leave of
you--for a long time


Page 304

He intended setting off to-morrow morning for town, by the
opportunity of the equerries' coach, which would convey him to
Kew, where his majesty was to receive an address.

He told me, with a good deal of humour, that he suspected me of
being rather absent in my official occupation, from little
natural care about toilettes and such things.  I could not
possibly deny this,--on the contrary, I owned I had, at first,
found my attention unattainable, partly from flutter and
embarrassment, and partly from the reasons he so discerningly
assigned.  "I have even," I added, "and not seldom, handed her
fan before her gown, and her gloves before her cap but I am
better in all that now!"

"I should think all that very likely," cried he, smiling; "yet it
is not very trifling with her majesty, who is so exact and
precise, such things seem to her of moment."

This is truth itself.

I said, "No,--she is more gracious, more kind, indeed, to me than
ever: she scarce speaks, scarce turns to me without a smile."

" Well," cried he, extremely pleased, "this must much soften your
employment and confinement.  And, indeed, it was most natural to
expect this time of distress should prove a cement."



                        A VISIT FROM MISS FUZILIER.

I think I need not mention meeting my beloved Fredy in town, on
our delightful excursion thither for the grand restoration
Drawing-room, in which the queen received the compliments and
congratulations of almost all the Court part of the nation.  Miss
Cambridge worked me, upon this occasion, a suit, in silks upon
tiffany, most excessively delicate and pretty, and much admired
by her majesty.

All I shall mention of this town visit is, that, the day after
the great Drawing-room, Miss Fuzilier, for the first time since I
have been in office, called upon me to inquire after the queen.
Miss Tryon, and Mrs. Tracey, and Mrs. Fielding were with her.

She looked serious, sensible, interesting. I thought instantly of
the report concerning Mr. Fairly, and of his disavowal : but it
was singular that the only time she opened her mouth to speak was
to name him!  Miss Tryon, who chatted incessantly, had spoken of
the great confusion at the Drawing-room, from the crowd: "It was
intended to be better regulated," said Miss


Page 305

 F., "Mr. Fairly told me."  She dropped her eye the moment she
had spoken his name.  After this, as before it, she said nothing.
. . .

Mr. George Villiers, a younger brother of Lord Clarendon, was now
here as groom of the bedchamber.  He is very clever, somewhat
caustigue, but so loyal and vehement in the king's cause, that he
has the appellation, from his party, of "The Tiger."

He would not obtain it for his person, which is remarkably slim,
slight, and delicate.


                        A COMMAND FROM HER MAJESTY.

Kew, April, 1789. My dearest friends, - I have her majesty's
commands to inquire--whether you have any of a certain breed of
poultry?

N.B. What breed I do not remember.

And to say she has just received a small group of the same
herself.

N.B. The quantity I have forgotten.

And to add, she is assured they are something very rare and
scarce, and extraordinary and curious.

N.B. By whom she was assured I have not heard.

And to subjoin, that you must send word if you have any of the
same sort.

N.B. How you are to find that out, I cannot tell.

And to mention, as a corollary, that, if you have none of them,
and should like to have some, she has a cock and a hen she can
spare, and will appropriate them to Mr. Locke and my dearest
Fredy.

This conclusive stroke so pleased and exhilarated me, that
forthwith I said you would both be enchanted, and so forgot all
the preceding particulars.  And I said, moreover, that I knew you
would rear them, and cheer them, and fondle them like your
children.

So now-pray write a very fair answer fairly, in fair hand, and to
her fair purpose.



               COLONEL MANNERS MYSTIFIES MRS. SCHWELLENBERG.

Queen's Lodge, Windsor, April.-Mrs. Schwellenberg is softened
into nothing but civility and courtesy to me.  To what the change
is owing I cannot conjecture; but I do all that in me lies
Page 306

to support it, preferring the entire sacrifice of every moment,
from our dinner to twelve at night, to her harshness and horrors.
Nevertheless, a lassitude of existence creeps sensibly upon me.

Colonel Manners, however, for the short half-hour of tea-time, is
irresistibly diverting.  He continues my constant friend and
neighbour, and, while he affects to play off the coadjutrix to
advantage, he nods at me, to draw forth my laughter or
approbation, with the most alarming undisguise.  I often fear her
being affronted ; but naturally she admires him very much for his
uncommon share of beauty, and makes much allowance for his
levity.  However, the never-quite-comprehended affair of the
leather bed-cover,(306) has in some degree intimidated her ever
since, as she constantly apprehends that, if he were provoked, he
would play her some trick.

He had been at White's ball, given in town upon his majesty's
recovery.  We begged some account of it: he ranted away with
great fluency, uttering little queer sarcasms at Mrs,
Schwellenberg by every opportunity, and colouring when he had
done, with private fear of enraging her.  This, however, she
suspected not, or all his aim had been lost; for to alarm her is
his delight.

"I liked it all," he said, in summing up his relation, "very
well, except the music, and I like any caw-caw-caw, better than
that sort of noise,--only you must not tell the king I say that,
ma'am, because the king likes it."

She objected to the words " must not," and protested she would
not be directed by no one, and would tell it, if she pleased.

Upon this, he began a most boisterous threatening of the evil
consequences which would accrue to herself, though in so
ludicrous a manner, that how she could suppose him serious was my
wonder.  "Take care of yourself, ma'am," he cried, holding up his
finger as if menacing a child; "take care of yourself! I am not
to be provoked twice!"

This, after a proud resistance, conquered her - and, really
frightened at she knew not what, she fretfully exclaimed, "Ver
well, sir!--I wish I had not come down!  I won't no more! you
might have your tea when you can get It."

Returning to his account, he owned he had been rather a little
musical himself for once, which was when they all sang "God save
the king," after the supper; for then he joined in

Page 307
the chorus, as well and as loud as any of them, "though some of
the company," he added, "took the liberty to ask me not to be so
loud, because they pretended I was out of tune; but it was In
such a good cause that I did not mind that."

She was no sooner recovered than the attack became personal
again; and so it has continued ever since: he seems bent upon
"playing her off" in all manners; he braves her, then compliments
her, assents to her opinion, and the next moment contradicts her;
pretends uncommon friendship for her, and then laughs in her
face.  But his worst manoeuvre is a perpetual application to me,
by looks and sly glances, which fill me with terror of passing
for an accomplice; and the more, as I find it utterly impossible
to keep grave during these absurdities.  And yet, the most
extraordinary part of the story is that she really likes him!
though at times she is so angry, she makes vows to keep to her
own room.

Mr. George Villiers, with far deeper aim, sneers out his own more
artful satire, but is never understood ; while Colonel Manners
domineers with so high a hand, he carries all before him; and
whenever Mrs. Schwellenberg, to lessen her mortification, draws
me into the question, he instantly turns off whatever she begins
into some high-flown compliment, so worded also as to convey some
comparative reproach.  This offends more than all.

When she complains to me of him, in his absence, I answer he is a
mere schoolboy, for mischief, without serious design of
displeasing: but she tells me she sees he means to do her some
harm, and she will let the king know, if he goes on at that rate,
for she does not choose such sort of familiarness.

Once she apologised suddenly for her English, and Colonel Manners
said, "O, don't mind that, ma'am, for I take no particular notice
as to your language."

"But," says she, "Miss Berner might tell me, when I speak it
sometimes not quite right, what you call."

"O dear no, ma'am!" exclaimed he; "Miss Burney is of too mild a
disposition for that: she could not correct you strong enough to
do you good."

"Oh!-ver well, sir!" she cried, confounded by his effrontery.

One day she lamented she had been absent when there was so much
agreeable company in the house; "And now," she


Page 308
added, "now that I am comm back, here is nobody.--not one!--no
society!"                                             .

He protested this was not to be endured, and told her that to
reckon all us nobody was so bad, he should resent it.

"What will you do, my good colonel?" she cried.

"O ma'am, do?--I will tell Dr. Davis."

"And who bin he?"

"Why, he's the master of Eton school, ma'am," with a thundering
bawl in her ears, that made her stop them.

"No, sir!" she cried, indignantly, "I thank you for that, I won't
have no Dr. schoolmaster, what you call!  I bin too old for
that."

"But, ma'am, he shall bring you a Latin oration upon this
subject, and you must hear it!"

"O, 'tis all the same!  I shan't not understand it, so I won't
not hear it."

"But you must, ma'am.  If I write it, I shan't let you off so:--
you must hear it!"

"No, I won't!--Miss Berner might,--give it her."

"Does Miss Burney know Latin?" cried Mr. G. Villiers.

"Not one word," quoth I.

"I believe that cried she "but she might hear it the sam!"


                            THE SAILOR PRINCE.

On the 2nd of May I met Colonel Manners, waiting at the corner of
a passage leading towards the queen's apartments.  "Is the king,
ma'am," he cried, "there? because Prince William(307) is come."

I had heard he was arrived in town,-and with much concern, since
it was without leave of the king.  It was in the illness, indeed,
of the king he sailed to England, and when he had probably all
the excuse of believing his royal father incapable of further
governance.  How did I grieve for the feelings of that royal
father, in this idea! yet it certainly offers for Prince William
his best apology.

In the evening, while Mrs. Schwellenberg, Mrs. Zachary and myself
were sitting in the eating parlour, the door was suddenly opened
by Mr. Alberts, the queen's page, and "prince William" was
announced.

He came to see Mrs. Schwellenberg.  He is handsome, as

Page 309

are all the royal family, though he is not     of a height to be
called a good figure.  He looked very       hard at the two
strangers, but made us all sit, very civilly, and drew a chair
for himself, and began to discourse with the most unbounded
openness and careless ease, of everything that Occurred to him.

Mrs. Schwellenberg said she had pitied him for the grief he must
have felt at the news of the king's illness : "Yes," cried he, "I
was very sorry, for his majesty, very sorry indeed, -no man loves
the king better ; of that be assured.  but all sailors
love their king.  And I felt for the queen, too,--I did, faith.
I was horridly agitated when I saw the king first.  I could
hardly stand."

Then Mrs. Schwellenberg suddenly said, "Miss Berner, now you
might see his royal highness; you wanted it so moch, and now you
might do it.  Your royal highness, that is Miss Berner."

He rose very civilly, and bowed, to this strange freak of an
introduction; and, of course, I rose and Curtsied low, and waited
his commands to sit again; which were given instantly, with great
courtesy.

"Ma'am," cried he, "you have a brother in the service?"  "Yes,
sir," I answered, much pleased with this professional attention.
He had not, he civilly said, the pleasure to know him, but he had
heard of him.

Then, turning suddenly to Mrs. Schwellenberg, "Pray," cried he, "
what is become of Mrs.--Mrs.--Mrs. Hogentot?"

"O, your royal highness!" cried she, stifling much offence, "do
you mean the poor Haggerdorn?--O your royal highness! have you
forgot her?"

"i have, upon my word!" cried he, plumply "upon my soul, I have!"

Then turning again to me, "I am very happy, ma'am," he cried, "to
see you here; it gives me great pleasure the queen should appoint
the sister of a sea-officer to so eligible a situation.  As long
as she has a brother in the service, ma'am,, cried he to Mrs.
Schwellenberg, "I look upon her as one of us.  O, faith I do!  I
do indeed! she is one of the corps."

Then he said he had been making acquaintance with a new princess,
one he did not know nor remember-Princess Amelia.  "Mary, too,"--
he said, "I had quite forgot; and they did not tell me who she
was; so I went up to her, and, without in the least recollecting
her, she's so monstrously grown, I said, 'Pray, ma'am, are you
one of the attendants?'"

Princess Sophia is his professed favourite.  "I have had the

Page 310

honour," he cried, "of about an hour's conversation with that
young lady, in the old style; though I have given up my mad
frolics now.  To be sure, I had a few in that style formerly;
upon my word I am almost ashamed;--Ha! ha! ha!"

Then, recollecting particulars, he laughed vehemently; but Mrs.
Schwellenberg eagerly interrupted his communications.  I fancy
some of them might have related to our own sacred person!

"Augusta," he said "looks very well,--a good face and
countenance,--she looks interesting,--she looks as if she knew
more than she Would say; and I like that character."

He stayed a full hour, chatting in this good-humoured and
familiar manner.


              LOYAL RECEPTION OF THE KING IN THE NEW FOREST.

Thursday, June 25.-This morning I was called before five o'clock,
though various packages and business had kept me up till near
three.

The day was rainy, but the road was beautiful; Windsor great
park, in particular, is charming.  The crowds increased as we
advanced, and at Winchester the town was one head.  I saw Dr.
Warton, but could not stop the carriage.  The king was everywhere
received with acclamation.  His popularity is greater than ever.
Compassion for his late sufferings seems to have endeared him now
to all conditions of men.

At Romsey, on the steps of the town-hall, an orchestra was
formed, and a band of musicians, in common brown coarse cloth and
red neckcloths, and even in carters' loose gowns, made a chorus
of "God save the king," In which the countless multitude joined,
in such loud acclamation, that their loyalty and heartiness, and
natural joy, almost surprised me into a sob before I knew myself
at all affected by them.

The New Forest Is all beauty, and when we approached Lyndhurst
the crowds wore as picturesque an appearance as the landscapes ;
They were all in decent attire, and, the great space giving them
full room, the cool beauty of the verdure between the groups took
away all idea of inconvenience, and made their live gaiety a
scene to joy beholders.

Carriages of all sorts lined the road-side :-chariots, chaises,
landaus, carts, waggons, whiskies, gigs, phatons--mixed and
intermixed, filled Within and surrounded without by faces all
glee and delight.


Page 311

Such was the scenery for miles before we reached Lyndhurst.  The
old law of the forest, that his majesty must be presented with
two milk-white greyhounds, peculiarly decorated, upon his
entrance into the New Forest, gathered together multitudes to see
the show.  A party, also, of foresters, habited in green, and
each with a bugle-horn, met his majesty at the same time.

Arrived at Lyndhurst, we drove to the Duke of Gloucester's.  The
royal family were just before us, but the two colonels came and
handed us through the crowd.  The house, intended for a mere
hunting-seat, was built by Charles II., and seems quite
unimproved and unrepaired from its first foundation.  It is the
king's, but lent to the Duke of Gloucester.  It is a straggling,
inconvenient, old house, but delightfully situated, in a
village,--looking, indeed, at present, like a populous town, from
the amazing concourse of people that have crowded into it.

The bow-men and archers and bugle-horns are to attend the king
while he stays here, in all his rides.

The Duke of Gloucester was ready to receive the royal family, who
are all in the highest spirits and delight.

I have a small old bed-chamber, but a large and commodious
parlour, in which the gentlemen join Miss Planta and me to
breakfast and to drink tea.  They dine at the royal table.  We
are to remain here some days.

During the king's dinner, which was in a parlour looking into the
garden, he permitted the people to come to the window; and their
delight and rapture in seeing their monarch at table, with the
evident hungry feeling it occasioned, made a contrast of
admiration and deprivation, truly comic.  They crowded, however,
so excessively, that this can be permitted them no more.  They
broke down all the paling, and much of the hedges, and some of
the windows, and all by eagerness and multitude, for they were
perfectly civil and well-behaved.

In the afternoon the royal party came into my parlour; and the
moment the people saw the star, they set up such a shout as made
a ring all around the village; for my parlour has the same view
with the royal rooms into the garden, where this crowd was
assembled, and the new rapture was simply at seeing the king in a
new apartment!

They all walked out, about and around the village, in the
evening, and the delighted mob accompanied them.  The


Page 312

moment they stepped out of the house, the people, With voice,
struck up "God save the king!"  I assure you I cried like a child
twenty times in the day, at the honest and rapturous effusions of
such artless and disinterested loyalty.  The king's illness and
recovery make me tender, as Count Mannuccia said, upon every
recollection.

These good villagers continued singing this loyal song during the
whole walk, without any intermission, except to shout "huzza!" at
the end of every stanza.  They returned so hoarse, that I longed
to give them all some lemonade.  Probably they longed for
something they would have called better!  'Twas well the king
could walk no longer; I think, if he had, they would have died
singing around him.

June 30.-We continued at Lyndhurst five days and the tranquillity
of the life, and the beauty of the country, would have made it
very regaling to me indeed, but for the fatigue of having no
maid, yet being always in readiness to play the part of an
attendant myself.

I went twice to see the house of Sir Phillip Jennings Clerke, my
old acquaintance at Streatham.  I regretted he was no more; he
would so much have prided and rejoiced in shewing his place.  His
opposition principles would not have interfered with that private
act of duty from a subject to a sovereign.  How did I call to
mind Mrs. Thrale, upon this spot! not that I had seen it with
her, or ever before; but that its late owner was one of her
sincerest admirers.

Miss Planta and myself drove also to Southampton, by the queen's
direction.  It is a pretty clean town, and the views from the
Southampton water are highly picturesque : but all this I had
seen to far greater advantage, with Mr. and Mrs. and Miss Thrale.
Ah, Mrs. Thrale!--In thinking her over, as I saw again the same
spot, how much did I wish to see with it the same--once so dear--
companion!

On the Sunday we all went to the parish church ; and after the
service, instead of a psalm, imagine our surprise to hear the
whole congregation join in "God save the king!"  Misplaced as
this was in a church, its intent was so kind, loyal, and
affectionate, that I believe there was not a dry eye amongst
either singers or hearers.  The king's late dreadful illness has
rendered this song quite melting to me.
This day we quitted Lyndhurst; not without regret, for so private
is its situation, I could stroll about in its beautiful
neighbourhood quite alone.


Page 313

                      THE ROYAL JOURNEY TO WEYMOUTH.

The journey to Weymouth was one scene of festivity and rejoicing.
The people were everywhere collected, and everywhere delighted.
We passed through Salisbury, where a magnificent arch was
erected, of festoons of flowers, for the king's carriage to pass
under, and mottoed with "The king restored," and "Long live the
king," in three divisions.  The green bowmen accompanied the
train thus far; and the clothiers and manufacturers here met it,
dressed out in white loose frocks, flowers, and ribbons, with
sticks or caps emblematically decorated from their several
manufactories.  And the acclamations with which the king was
received amongst them--it was a rapture past description.  At
Blandford there was nearly the same ceremony.

At every gentleman's seat which we passed, the owners and their
families stood at the gate, and their guests Or neighbours were
in carriages all round.

At Dorchester the crowd seemed still increased.  The city had so
antique an air, I longed to investigate its old buildings.  The
houses have the most ancient appearance of any that are inhabited
that I have happened to see: and inhabited they were indeed!
every window-sash was removed, for face above face to peep Out,
and every old balcony and all the leads of the houses seemed
turned into booths for fairs.  It seems, also, the most populous
town I have seen; I judge by the concourse of the young and
middle-aged--those we saw everywhere alike, as they may gather
together from all quarters-but from the amazing quantity of
indigenous residers; old women and young children.  There seemed
families of ten or twelve of the latter in every house; and the
old women were so numerous, that they gave the whole scene the
air of a rural masquerade.

Girls, with chaplets, beautiful young creatures, strewed the
entrance of various villages with flowers.


                           WELCOME TO WEYMOUTH.

Gloucester House, which we now inhabit, at Weymouth, is Situated
in front of the sea, and the sands of the bay before it are
perfectly smooth and soft.  The whole town, and Melcomb Regis,
and half the county of Dorset, seemed assembled to
welcome their majesties.

I have here a very good parlour, but dull, from its aspect.


Page 314

Nothing but the sea at Weymouth affords any life Or Spirit.  My
bed-room is in the attics.  Nothing like living at a Court for
exaltation.  Yet even with this gratification, which extends to
Miss Planta, the house will only hold the females of the party.
The two adjoining houses are added, for the gentlemen, an(] the
pages, and some other of the suite, cooks, etc.--but the footmen
are obliged to lodge still farther off.

The bay is very beautiful, after its kind; a peninsula shuts out
Portland island and the broad ocean.

The king, and queen, and princesses, and their suite, walked out
in the evening; an immense crowd attended them--sailors bargemen,
mechanics, countrymen; and all united with so vociferous a volley
of "God save the king," that the noise was stunning.

At near ten o'clock Lord Courtown came into my parlour, as it is
called, and said the town was all illuminated, and invited Miss
Planta and me to a walk upon the sands.  Their majesties were
come in to supper.  We took a stroll under his escort, and found
it singularly beautiful, the night being very fine, and several
boats and small vessels lighted up, and in motion upon the sea.
The illumination extended through Melcomb Regis and Weymouth.
Gloucester-row, in which we live, is properly in Melcomb Regis;
but the two towns join each other, and are often confounded.

The preparations of festive loyalty were universal.  Not a child
could we meet that had not a bandeau round its head, cap, or hat,
of "God save the king;" all the bargemen wore it in cockades and
even the bathing-women had it in large coarse girdles round their
waists.  It is printed in golden letters upon most of the
bathing-machines, and in various scrolls and devices it adorns
every shop and almost every house in the two towns.


                  THE ROYAL PLUNGE WITH MUSICAL HONOURS.
                          "YOU MUST KNEEL, SIR!"

 Gloucester House, Weymouth, Wednesday, July 9.-We are settled
here comfortably enough.  Miss Planta and I breakfast as well as
dine together alone; the gentlemen have a breakfast parlour in
the adjoining house, and we meet only at tea, and seldom then.
They have all acquaintance here, in this Gloucester-row, and
stroll from the terrace or the sands, to visit them during the
tea vacation time.


Page 315.'

I like this much: I see them just enough to keep up sociability,
without any necessary constraint; for I attend the     tea-table
only at my own hour, and they come,         or not, according to
chance or their convenience.

The king bathes, and with great success; a machine follows the
royal one into the sea, filled with fiddlers, who play "God save
the king," as his majesty takes his plunge!

I am delighted with the soft air and soft footing upon the sands,
and stroll up and down them morning, noon, and night.  As they
are close before the house, I can get to and from them in a
moment.

Her majesty has graciously hired a little maid between Miss
Planta and me, who comes for the day.  We have no accommodation
for her sleeping here; but it is an unspeakable relief to our
personal fatigues.

Dr. Gisburne is here, to attend his majesty; and the queen has
ordered me to invite him to dine at my table.  He comes
regularly.

(Fanny Burney to Dr. Burney.)
Gloucester Rowe, Weymouth, July 13, 1789.
My dearest padre's kind letter was most truly welcome to me.
When I am so distant, the term of absence or of silence seems
always doubly long to me.

The bay here is most beautiful; the sea never rough, generally
calm and gentle, and the sands perfectly smooth and pleasant.  I
have not bathed, for I have had a cold in my head, which I caught
at Lyndhurst, and which makes me fear beginning; but I have hopes
to be well enough to-morrow, and thenceforward to ail nothing
more.  It is my intention to cast away all superfluous complaints
into the main ocean, which I think quite sufficiently capacious
to hold them ; and really my little frame will find enough to
carry and manage without them. . . .

His majesty is in delightful health, and much-improved spirits.
All agree he never looked better.  The loyalty of all this place
is excessive; they have dressed out every street with labels of
"God save the king:" all the shops have it over the doors: all
the children wear it in their caps, all the labourers in their
hats, and all the sailors in their voices, for they never
approach the house without shouting it aloud, nor see the king,
or his shadow, without beginning to huzza, and going on to three
cheers.


Page 316

The bathing-machines make it their motto over the windows; and
those bathers that belong to the royal dippers wear it in
bandeaus on their bonnets, to go into the sea; and have it again,
in large letters, round their waists, to encounter the waves.
Flannel dresses, tucked up, and no shoes nor stockings, with
bandeaus and girdles, have a most singular appearance, and when
first I surveyed these loyal nymphs it was with some difficulty I
kept my features in order.  Nor is this all.  Think but Of the
Surprise of his majesty when, the first time of his bathing, he
had no sooner popped his royal head under water than a band of
music, concealed in a neighbouring machine, struck up "God save
great George our king."

One thing, however, was a little unlucky ,--when the mayor and
burgesses came with the address, they requested leave to kiss
hands: this was graciously accorded; but, the mayor advancing, in
a common way, to take the queen's hand, as he might that of any
lady mayoress, Colonel Gwynn, who stood by, whispered, "You must
kneel, sir!"  He found, however, that he took no notice of this
hint, but kissed the queen's hand erect.  As he passed him, in
his way back, the colonel Said, "You should have knelt, Sir!"

"Sir," answered the poor mayor, "I cannot."

"Everybody does, sir."

"Sir,--I have a wooden leg!"

Poor man! 'twas such a surprise!  and such an excuse as no one
could dispute.  But the absurdity of the matter followed--all the
rest did the same; taking the same privilege, by the example,
without the same or any cause!


                    ROYAL DOINGS IN AND ABOUT WEYMOUTH.


July 15.-The Magnificent, a man-of-war Of 74 guns, commanded by
an old captain of James's (Onslow), is now stationed at the
entrance of the bay, for the security at once and pleasure of the
king; and a fine frigate, the Southampton, Captain Douglas, is
nearer in, and brought for the king to cruise about.  Captain
Douglas is nephew to Sir Andrew Snape Hammond, who married a
cousin of our Mr. Crisp.  The king and royal party have been to
visit the frigate.  Miss Planta and myself went to see the
ceremony from a place called the Look-out,--a beautiful spot.
But I have not much taste for sea receptions and honours: the
firing a salute is SO strange a mode of hospitality and
politeness. . . .


Page 317

Mrs. Gwynn(308) is arrived, and means to spend the royal
season here.  She lodges at the hotel just by, and we have met
several times.  She is very soft and pleasing, and still as
beautiful as an angel.  We have had two or three long tête-Š-
têtes and talked over, with great pleasure, anecdotes Of Our
former mutual acquaintances--Dr. Johnson, Sir Joshua Reynolds,
Mrs. Thrale, Baretti, Miss Reynolds, Miss Palmer, and her old
admirer, Dr. Goldsmith, of whom she relates--as who does not?--a
thousand ridiculous traits.

The queen is reading Mrs. Piozzi's tour(309) to me, instead of my
reading it to her.  She loves reading aloud, and in this work
finds me an able commentator.  How like herself, how
characteristic is every line--Wild, entertaining, flighty,
inconsistent, and clever!

July 16.-Yesterday we all wen to the theatre.  The king has taken
the centre front box for himself, family, and attendants.  The
side boxes are too small.  The queen ordered places for Miss
Planta and me, which are in the front row of a box next but one
to the royals.  Thus, in this case, Our want of rank to be in
their public suite gives us better seats than those high enough
to stand behind them,

Lady Sydney, Lady Courtown's sister, and Miss Townshend, her
daughter, are in the intermediate box, and were very sociable.  I
have met them here occasionally, and like them very well.

'Tis a pretty little theatre: but its entertainment was quite in
the barn style a mere medley,--songs, dances, imitations,- and
all very bad.  But Lord Chesterfield, who is here, and who seems
chief director, promises all will be better.

This morning the royal party went to Dorchester, and I strolled
upon the sands with Mrs. Gwynn.  We overtook a lady, of a very
majestic port and demeanour, who solemnly returned Mrs. Gwynn's
salutation, and then addressed herself to me with similar
gravity.  I saw a face I knew, and of very
uncommon beauty; but did not immediately recollect it was Mrs.
Siddons.  She is come here, she says, solely for her health : she
has spent some days with Mrs. Gwynn, at General Harcourt's.  Her
husband was with her, and a sweet child.  I wished to have tried
if her solemnity would have worn away


Page 318
by length of conversation ; but I was obliged to hasten home.
But my dearest Fredy's opinion, joined to that of my Sister
Esther, satisfies me I was a loser by this necessary forbearance.

Sunday, July 26.-Yesterday we wen again to the play, and saw "The
Midnight Hour" and "The Commissary."  The latter from the
"Bourgeois Gentilhomme," is comic to convulsion and the burlesque
of Quick and Mrs.  Wells united made ne laugh quite
immoderately.(310)

July 29.-We went to the play, and saw Mrs. Siddons in Rosalind.
She looked beautifully, but too large for that shepherd's dress;
and her gaiety sits not naturally upon her,--it seems more like
disguised gravity.  I must own my admiration for her confined to
her tragic powers; and there it is raised so high that I feel
mortified, in a degree, to see her so much fainter attempts and
success in comedy.


                            A PATIENT AUDIENCE.

Monday, Aug. 3.-The whole royal party went to see Lulworth
Castle, intending to be back to dinner, and go to the play at
night, which their majesties had ordered, with Mrs. Siddons to
play Lady Townly.(311)  Dinner-time, however, came and passed,
and they arrived not.  They went by sea, and the wind proved
contrary; and about seven o'clock a hobby groom was despatched
thither by land, with intelligence that they had only reached
Lulworth Castle at five o'clock.  They meant to be certainly back
by eight ; but sent their commands that the farce might be
performed first, and the play wait them.

The manager repeated this to the audience,--already waiting and
wearied but a loud applause testified their agreeability to
whatever could be proposed.  The farce, however, was much sooner
over than the passage from Lulworth Castle.  It was ten o'clock
when they landed!  And all this time the audience--spectators
rather--quietly waited!

They landed, just by the theatre, and went to the house of Lady
Pembroke, who is now here in attendance upon the queen : and
there they Sent home for the king's page, with

Page 319

a wig, etc.; and the queen's wardrobe woman, with similar
decorations; and a message to Miss Planta and me, that we might
go at once to the theatre.

We obeyed; and soon after they appeared, and were received with
the most violent gusts of joy and huzzas, even from the galleries
over their heads, whose patience had not the reward of seeing
them at last.  Is not this a charming trait of provincial
popularity?

Mrs. Siddons, in her looks, and the tragic part, was exquisite.


                       A FATIGUING BUT PLEASANT DAY.

Aug. 4.-To-day all the royals went to Sherborne Castle.  My day
being perfectly at liberty, Mrs. Gwynn stayed and spent it with
me.  The weather was beautiful; the sea-breezes here keep off
intense heat in the warmest season.  We walked first to see the
shrubbery and plantation of a lady, Mrs. B--, who has a very
pretty house about a mile and a half out of the town.  Here we
rested, and regaled ourselves with sweet flowers, and then
proceeded to the old castle,-its ruins rather,- which we most
completely examined, not leaving one stone' untrod, except such
as must have precipitated us into the sea.  This castle is built
almost in the sea, upon a perpendicular rock, and its situation,
therefore, is nobly bold and striking.  It is little more now
than walls, and a few little winding staircases at its four
corners.

I had not imagined my beautiful companion could have taken so
much pleasure from an excursion so romantic and ,lonely ; but she
enjoyed it very much, clambered about as unaffectedly as if she
had lived in rural scenes all her life, and left nothing
unexamined.

We then prowled along the sands at the foot of the adjoining
rocks, and picked up sea-weeds and shells - but I do not think
they were such as to drive Sir Ashton Lever,(312) or the Museum
keepers, to despair!  We had the queen's two little dogs, Badine
and Phillis, for our guards and associates.  We returned home to
a very late tea, thoroughly tired, but very much pleased.  To me
it was the only rural excursion I had taken for more than three
years.

 Page 320
The royal party came not home till past eleven o'clock.  The
queen was much delighted with Sherborne Castle, which abounds
with regal curiosities, honourably acquired by the family.



                             LULWORTH CASTLE.

Aug. 8.--To-day we went to Lulworth Castle; but not with Mrs.
Gwynn.  Her majesty ordered our royal coach and four, and
directed me to take the two De Lucs.

Lulworth Castle is beautifully situated, with a near and noble
view of the sea, It has a spacious and very fine park, and
commands a great extent of prospect.  It is the property of Mr.
Weld, a Roman Catholic, whose eldest brother was first husband of
Mrs. Fitzherbert.(313)  A singular circumstance, that their
majesties should visit a house in which, so few years ago, she
might have received them.

There is in it a Roman Catholic chapel that is truly elegant,--a
Pantheon in miniature,--and ornamented with immense expense and
richness.  The altar is all of finest variegated marbles, and
precious stones are glittering from every angle.  The priests'
vestments, which are very superb, and all the sacerdotal array,
were shown us as particular favours: and Colonel Goldsworthy
comically said he doubted not they had incense and oblations for
a week to come, by way of purification for our heretical
curiosity.

The castle is built with four turrets.  It is not very ancient,
and the inside is completely modern, and fitted up with great
elegance.  It abounds in pictures of priests, saints, monks, and
nuns, and is decorated with crosses and Roman Catholic devices
without end.  They show one room in which two of our kings have
slept; Charles II. and poor James II.

We returned home to dinner, and in the evening went to the

Page 321
play.  Mrs. Siddons performed Mrs. Oakley.(313)  What pity thus
to throw away her talents !  but the queen dislikes tragedy, and
the honour to play before the royal family blinds her to the
little credit acquired by playing comedy.


                  THE ROYAL PARTY AT THE ASSEMBLY Rooms.

Sunday, Aug 9.-The king had a council yesterday, which brought
most of the great officers of state to Weymouth.

In the evening, her majesty desired Miss Planta and me to go to
the rooms, whither they commonly go themselves on Sunday
evenings, and, after looking round them, and speaking where they
choose, they retire to tea in an inner apartment with their own
party, but leave the door wide open, both to see and be seen.

The rooms are convenient and spacious : we found them very full.
As soon as the royal party came, a circle was formed, and they
moved round it, just as before the ball at St. James's, the king
one way with his chamberlain, the new-made Marquis of Salisbury,
and the queen the other with the princesses, Lady Courtown, etc.
The rest of the attendants planted themselves round in the
circle.

I had now the pleasure, for the first time, to see Mr. Pitt but
his appearance is his least recommendation ; it is neither noble
nor expressive.  Lord Chatham, the Duke of Richmond, Mr.
Villiers, Lord Delawarr, etc., were in the circle, and spoken to
a long time each.


                     A JOURNEY To EXETER AND SALTRAM.

Thursday, Aug. 13.-We began our Western tour.  We all went in the
same order as we set out from Windsor.  We arrived at Exeter to a
very late dinner.  We were lodged at the Deanery; and Dr.
Buller, the dean, desired a conference with me, for we came
first, leaving the royals at Sir George Young's.  He was very
civil, and in highest glee: I had never seen him before; but he
told me he introduced himself, by this opportunity, at the
express desire of Mrs. Chapone and Mrs. Castle, who were both his
relations, as well as of Dr. Warton.  I was glad to hear myself
yet remembered by them.

The crowds, the rejoicings, the hallooing, and singing, and
garlanding, and decorating of all the inhabitants of this old
Page 322

city, and of all the country through which we passed, made the
journey quite charming : such happy loyalty as beamed from all
ranks and descriptions of men carried close to the heart in
sympathetic joy.

We passed all the next day at the Deanery, which was insufficient
to our party, that not only the gentlemen, one an(l all, lodged
at the hotel, but even Lady Courtown and the two Lady
Waldegraves.  I saw nothing of any of them while we stayed at
Exeter.  I strolled with Miss Planta about the town, which is
populous and busy enough, but close and ugly.  The principal
parade for company, however, takes in a fine view of the country;
and the cathedral is old and curious.

The next morning, Saturday the 15th, we quitted Exeter, in which
there had been one constant mob surrounding the Deanery from the
moment of our entrance.  We proceeded through a country the most
fertile, varied, rural, and delightful, in England, till we came
to the end of our aim, Saltram.  We passed through such beautiful
villages, and so animated a concourse of people, that the whole
journey proved truly delectable.  Arches of flowers were-erected
for the royal family to pass under at almost every town, with
various loyal devices, expressive of their satisfaction in this
circuit.  How happy must have been the king!-how deservedly ! The
greatest conqueror could never pass through his dominions with
fuller acclamations of joy from his devoted subjects than George
III. experienced, simply from having won their love by the even
tenor of an unspotted life, which, at length, has vanquished all
the hearts of all his subjects.

Our entrance at Saltram was, personally to Miss Planta and me,
very disagreeable: we followed immediately after the royals and
equerries and so many of the neighbouring gentry, the officers,
etc., were assembled to receive them, that we had to make our way
through a crowd of starers the most tremendous, while the royals
all stood at the windows, and the other attendants in the hall.

The house is one of the most magnificent in the kingdom.  It
accommodated us all, even to every footman, without by any means
filling the whole.  The state apartments on the ground floor are
superb, hung with crimson damask, and ornamented with pictures,
some few of the Spanish school, the rest by Sir Joshua Reynolds,
Angelica, and some few by other artists.

Its view is noble; it extends to Plymouth, Mount-Edge-


Page 323

cumbe, and the neighbouring fine country.  The sea at times fills
up a part of the domain almost close to the house, and then its
prospect is Complete.


                            MAY "ONE" COME IN?

Sunday, Aug. 16.-Lord Courtown brought me a very obliging message
from Lady Mount-Edgecumbe, who had been here at noon to kiss
hands, on becoming a countess from a baroness.  She sent to
invite me to see her place, and contrive to dine and spend the
day there.  Her majesty approves the Mount-Edgecumbe invitation.

Aug. 18.-This morning the royals were all at a grand naval
review.  I spent the time very serenely in my favourite wood,
which abounds in seats of all sorts - and then I took a fountain
Pen, and wrote my rough journal for copying to my dear
Sorelle.(314)

In the evening, Lord Courtown, opening my parlour door, called
out, "May one come in?"

"May one?" exclaimed Colonel Goldsworthy; "may two, may
three,--may four?--I like your one, indeed!"

And in they all entered, and remained in sociable conversation
till they were all called, late, to cards.


                    AN EXCURSION To PLYMOUTH DOCKYARD.

Aug. 19.-Again this morning was spent by the royals at Plymouth
dock--by me in strolls round the house.  The wood here is truly
enchanting--the paths on the slant down to the water resemble
those of sweet Norbury park.

The tea, also, was too much the same to be worth detailing.  I
will only mention a speech which could not but divert me, of Mr.
Alberts, the queen's page.  He said nobody dared represent to the
king the danger of his present continual exertion in this hot
weather,--"unless it is Mr. Fairly," he added, "who can say
anything, in his genteel roundabout way."

Aug. 21.-To-day the royals went to Mount-Edgecumbe, and her
majesty had commissioned Lady Courtown to arrange a plan for Miss
Planta and me to see Plymouth Dock.  According, therefore, to her
ladyship's directions, we set off for that place, and, after a
dull drive of about five miles, arrived at the house of the
commissioner, Admiral La Forey.  Here


Page 324
Mrs.  La Forey and her daughters were prepared to expect us, and
take the trouble of entertaining us for the day.

Three large and populous towns, Plymouth, Stockton, and
Dock,(315) nearly join each other.        Plymouth is long,
dirty, ill built, and wholly unornamented with any edifice worth
notice. Stockton is rather neater,-nothing more.          Dock
runs higher and Is newer, and looks far cleaner and more
habitable.           The commissioner's is the best-situated
house in Dock: it is opposite a handsome quay, on an arm of the
sea, with a pretty paved walk, or terrace, before the house,
which seems used as a mall by the inhabitants, and is stored with
naval offices innumerable.

The two ladies received us very pleasantly. Mrs. La Forey Is well
bred, in the formal way ; but her eldest daughter, Mrs. Molloy,
is  quite free from stiffness, yet perfectly obliging, very easy,
very  modest, and very engaging, and, when dressed for a ball in
the evening, very handsome.        She does not become a
déshabille, but cannot look otherwise than pleasing and
agreeable, from  her manners and countenance.

Captain Molloy, her husband, was gone to attend in the naval
procession that conducted the royals to Mount-Edgecumbe, where he
expected to dine ; but he had left a younger officer, Lieutenant
Gregory, to do the honours of the naval show to us.

The commissioner himself is yet more formal than his lady, but
equally civil. An unmarried daughter appeared next, who seems
sensible and good humoured, but very plain.

We sallied forth to the dockyard, with these two daughters, and
Lieutenant Gregory, a very pleasing and well-bred young officer.
How often I wished my dear James had happened to be here, in any
employment, at this time!

The dockyard you will dispense with my describing. It is a noble
and tremendous sight, and we were shown it with every advantage
of explanation.       It was a sort of sighing satisfaction to
see such numerous stores of war's alarms !-ropes, sails, masts,
anchors,--and all in the finest symmetry, divided and subdivided,
as if placed only for show, The neatness and exactness of all the
arrangement of those stores for tempest, filled me with
admiration; so did the whole scene--though not with pleasure.
All assurances, however well to be depended upon, of safety, are
but so many indications of danger.

Page 325

While we were seeing the anchor business,--which seemed
performed by Vulcanic demons, so black they looked, so savage was
their howl in striking the red-hot iron, and so coarse and slight
their attire,--we were saluted with three cheers, from the
accidental entrance of Lord Stopford, Lord Courtown's son, and
Mr. Townshend, his nephew, a son of Lord Sydney, just made a lord
of the Admiralty.  And the sound, in those black regions, where
all the light was red-hot fire, had a Very fine demoniac effect.
In beating the anchor they all strike at the same instant, giving
about three quick strokes to one slow stroke; and were they not
to time them with the most perfect conformity, they must
inevitably knock out one another's brains.  The sight of this
apparently continual danger gave to the whole the appearance of
some wild rite performed from motives of superstition in some
uncivilised country.

While we were yet ]it the dockyard we were joined by two
sea-captains, Captain Molloy and Captain Duckworth.  Captain
Molloy is a sensible and agreeable man, but somewhat haughty, and
of conscious consequence.  Captain Duckworth is both sensible and
amiable in his style of conversation, and has a most perfect and
kind openness of manner and countenance; but he greatly amused me
by letting me see how much I amused him.  I never surprised him
looking near me, without seeing on his face so irresistible a
simper, that I expected him every moment to break forth; never
even trying to keep a grave face, except when I looked at him in
full front.  I found he knew "Burney, of the Bristol," as he
called our James, and I named and conversed about him by every
opportunity.                                              .


                        A VISIT TO A SEVENTY-FOUR.

Captain Molloy invited us, when we had exhausted the show on
land, to see his ship.  I dislike going anywhere beyond the reach
of the Humane society, but could not be left without breaking up
the party: this was my first water-excursion, though two had been
proposed to me at Weymouth, which I had begged leave to decline.

All, however, was smooth and calm, and we had the best possible
navigators.  We went to the ship in Captain Molloy's large boat,
which was very trim and neat, and had all its rowers new dressed
and smart for royal attendance, as it followed the king in all
his water-excursions.


Page 326

The Ship is the Bombay Castle, of seventy-four guns.  It had the
Admiralty flag hoisted, as Lord Chatham had held a board there in
the morning.  It is a very fine ship, and I was truly edified by
the sight of all its accommodations, ingenuity, utility,
cleanliness, and contrivances.  A man-of-war, fitted out and
manned,- is a glorious and a fearful sight!

In going over the ship we came to the midshipmen's mess, and
those young officers were at dinner, but we were taken in: they
were lighted by a few candles fastened to the wall in sockets.
Involuntarily I exclaimed, "Dining by candle-light at noon-day!"
A midshipman, starting forward, said, "Yes', ma'am, and Admiral
Lord Hood did the same for seven years following!"

 I liked his spirit so much that I turned to him, and said I was
very glad they looked forward to such an example, for I had a
brother in the service, which gave me a warm interest in its
prosperity.  This made the midshipman so much my friend, that we
entered into a detailed discourse upon the accommodations of
their cabin, mess, etc., and various other matters.  I liked him
much, though I know not his name; but my constant Captain
Duckworth kept me again wholly to his own cicerone-ing, when I
turned out of the cabin.

A little, however, he was mortified to find me a coward upon the
water.  I assured him he should cure me if he could convince me
there was no reason for fear.  He would not allow of any, but
could not disprove it.

"Tell me," I said, "and honestly,--should we be overturned in the
boat while out at sea, what would prevent our being drowned?"  He
would not suppose such an accident possible.

I pressed him, however, upon the possibility it might happen once
in a century, and he could not help laughing, and answered, "O,
we should pick you all up!" --I desired to know by what means.
"Instruments," he said.  I forced him, after a long and comic
resistance, to show me them.  Good heaven! they were
three-pronged iron forks,--very tridents of Neptune!

I exclaimed with great horror, "These!---why, they would tear the
body to pieces!"

"O," answered he calmly, "one must not think of legs and arms
when life is in danger."

I would not, however, under such protection, refuse sailing round
Mount-Edgecumbe, which we did in Captain Molloy's boat, and just
at the time when the royals, in sundry garden-

Page 327
chairs, were driving about the place.  It was a beautiful view
the situation is delightful.  But Captain Molloy was not in the
best harmony with its owners, as they had disappointed his
expectations of an Invitation to dinner.


                         A DAY AT MOUNT-EDGECUMBE.

Aug. 24.-To-day the royals went to Marystow, Colonel Heywood's,
and Miss Planta and myself to Mount-Edgecumbe.  The queen had
desired me to take Miss Planta, and I had written to prepare Lady
Mount-Edgecumbe for a companion.

We went in a chaise to the ferry, and thence in a boat.  I did
not like this part of the business, for we had no pilot we knew,
nor any one to direct us.  They would hardly believe, at
Mount-Edgecumbe, we had adventured in so unguarded a manner: but
our superior is too high to discover difficulties, or know common
precautions ; and we fare, therefore, considerably worse in all
these excursions, from belonging to crowned heads, than we should
do in our own private stations, if visiting at any part of the
kingdom.

Safe, however, though not pleasantly, we arrived on the opposite
shore ; when we found a gardener and a very commodious
garden-chair waiting for us.  We drove through a sweet park to
the house, at the gate of which stood Lord and Lady
Mount-Edgecumbe, who told us that they had just heard an
intention of their majesties to sail the next day up the River
Tamer, and therefore they thought it their duty to hasten off to
a seat they have near its banks, Coteil, with refreshments and
accommodations, in case they should be honoured with a visit to
see the place, which was very ancient and curious.  They should
leave Lord Valletort to do the honours, and expressed much civil
regret in the circumstance: but the distance was too great to
admit of the journey, over bad roads, if they deferred it till
after dinner.

We then proceeded, in the chair, to see the place: it is truly
noble; but I shall enter into no description from want of time:
take a list simply of its particular points.  The sea, in some
places, shows itself in its whole vast and unlimited expanse; at
others, the jutting land renders it merely a beautiful basin or
canal: the borders down to the sea are in some parts flourishing
with the finest evergreens and most vivid verdure, and in others
are barren, rocky, and perilous.  In one moment you might suppose
yourself cast on a desert island,


Page 328

and the next find yourself in the most fertile and luxurious
country.  In different views we were shown Cawsand bay, the
Hamoaze, the rocks called "the Maker," etc.,--Dartmoor hills,
Plymouth, the dockyard, Saltram, and St. George's channel.
Several noble ships, manned and commissioned -were in the Hamoaze
amongst them our Weymouth friends' the Magnificent and
Southampton.

A very beautiful flower-garden is enclosed in one part of the
grounds ; and huts, seats, and ornaments in general, were well
adapted to the scenery of the place.  A seat is consecrated to
Mrs. Damer,(316) with an acrostic on her name by Lord Valletort.
It is surprising to see the state of vegetation at this place, so
close to the main.  Myrtles, pomegranates, everg.reens, and
flowering shrubs, all thrive, and stand the cold blast, when
planted in a southern aspect, as safely as in an inland country.
As it is a peninsula, it has all aspects, and the plantations and
dispositions of the ground are admirably and skilfully assorted
to them.

The great open view, however, disappointed me : the towns it
shows have no prominent features, the country is as flat as it is
extensive, and the various branches of the sea which run into it
give, upon their retreat, a marshy, muddy, unpleasant appearance.
There is, besides, a want of some one striking object to arrest
the eye, and fix the attention, which wearies from the general
glare.  Points, however, there are, both of the sublime and
beautiful, that merit all the fame which this noble place has
acquired.

In our tour around it we met Lord Stopford, Mr.  Townshend, and
Captain Douglas ; and heard a tremendous account of the rage of
the sea-captains, on being disappointed of a dinner at the royal
visit to Mount-Edgecumbe.

We did not quit these fine grounds till near dinner-time.  The
housekeeper then showed us the house, and a set of apartments
newly fitted up for the royals, had they chosen to sleep at
Mount-Edgecumbe.  The house is old, and seems pleasant and
convenient.

Page 329

In a very pretty circular parlour, which had the appearance of
being the chief living room, I saw amongst a small collection of
books, "Cecilia."  I immediately laid a wager with myself the
first volume would open upon Pacchierotti; and I won it very
honestly, though I never expect to be paid it.  The chapter, "An
Opera Rehearsal," was so well read, the leaves always flew apart
to display it.

The library is an exceeding good room, and seems charmingly
furnished.  Here Lord Valletort received us.  His lady was
confined to her room by indisposition.  He is a most neat little
beau, and his face has the roses and lilies as finely blended as
that of his pretty young wife.  He was extremely civil and
attentive, and appears to be really amiable in his disposition.

Mr. Brett, a plain, sensible, conversible man, who has an estate
in the neighbourhood, dined with us; and a young Frenchman.  The
dinner was very cheerful: my lord, at the head of the table,
looked only like his lady in a riding-dress.  However, he
received one mortifying trial of his temper - he had sent to
request sailing up the Tamer next day with Sir Richard Bickerton;
and he had a blunt refusal, in a note, during our repast.  Not an
officer in the fleet would accommodate him; their resentment of
the dinner slight is quite vehement.

We returned home the same way we came; the good-natured little
lord, and Mr. Brett also, quite shocked we had no better guard or
care taken of us.


                        MR. FAIRLY ON A COURT LIFE.

Weymouth, Sunday, Sept. 6.-This evening, the royals and their
train all went again to the rooms to drink their tea.  Miss
Planta and myself were taking ours quietly together, and I was
finishing a charming sermon of Blair while she was running over
some old newspapers, when, suddenly, but very gently, the
room-door was opened, and then I heard, "Will Miss Burney permit
me to come in, and give me a dish of tea?"  'Twas Mr. Fairly.

He said we were to go on Monday se'nnight to Lord Bath's, on
Wednesday to Lord Aylesbury's, and on Friday to return to
Windsor.  He was himself to be discharged some days sooner, as he
should not be wanted on the road.  He said many things relative -
to Court lives and situations: with
respect, deference, and regard invariable, mentioned the leading
individuals ; but said nothing could be so weak as to


Page 330

look there, in such stations, for such impossibilities as
sympathy, friendship, or cordiality !  And he finished with
saying, "People forget themselves who look for them!"

Such, however, is not my feeling ; and I am satisfied he has met
with some unexpected coldness.  Miss Planta being present, he
explained only in generals.


                       A BRIEF SOJOURN AT LONGLEAT.

Monday, Sept. 14.-We all left Weymouth.  All possible honours
were paid the king on his departure; lords, ladies, and sea-
officers, lined the way that he passed, the guns of the
Magnificent and Southampton fired the parting salute, and the
ships were under sail.

We all set out as before, but parted on the road.  The royals
went to breakfast at Redlinch, the seat of Lord Ilchester, where
Mr, Fairly(317) was in waiting for them, and thence proceeded to
a collation at Sherborne Castle, whither he was to accompany
them, and then resign his present attendance, which has been long
and troublesome and irksome, I am sure.

Miss Planta and myself proceeded to Longleat, the seat of the
Marquis of Bath, late Lord Weymouth; where we were all to dine,
sleep, and spend the following day and night.  Longleat was
formerly the dwelling of the Earl of Lansdowne, uncle to Mrs.
Delany; and here, at this seat, that heartless uncle, to promote
some political views, sacrificed his incomparable niece, at the
age of seventeen, marrying her to an unwieldly, uncultivated,
country esquire, near sixty years of age, and scarce ever sober--
his name Pendarves.

With how sad an awe, in recollecting her submissive unhappiness,
did I enter these doors!--and with what indignant hatred did I
look at the portrait of the unfeeling earl, to whom her gentle
repugnance, shown by almost incessant tears, was thrown away, as
if she, her person, and her existence were nothing in the scale,
where the disposition of a few boroughs opposed them! Yet was
this the famous Granville--the poet, the fine gentleman, the
statesman, the friend and patron of Pope, of whom he wrote--

"What Muse for Granville can refuse to sing?"

Mine, I am sure, for one.

Page 331

Lady Bath showed us our rooms, to which we repaired immediately,
to dress before the arrival of the royals.


We dined with the gentlemen, all but the marquis, who was
admitted, in his own house, to dine with the king and queen, as
were all the ladies of his family.  Lord Weymouth, the eldest
son, was our president; and two of his brothers, Lords George and
John, with Lord Courtown and the two colonels, made the party.
The Weymouths, Thynnes rather, are silent, and we had but little
talk or entertainment.

The house is very magnificent, and of in immense magnitude.  It
seems much out of repair, and by no means cheerful or
comfortable.  Gloomy grandeur seems the proper epithet for the
building and its fitting-up.  It had been designed for a
monastery, and as such was nearly completed when Henry VIII.
dissolved those seminaries.  It was finished as a- dwelling-house
in the reign of his son, by one of the Thynnes, who
 was knighted in a field of battle by the protector
Somerset.(318)

Many things in the house, and many queer old portraits, afforded
me matter of Speculation, and would have filled up more time than
I had to bestow.  There are portraits of Jane Shore and Fair
Rosamond, which have some marks of originality, being miserable
daubs, yet from evidently beautiful subjects.  Arabella Stuart is
also at full length, and King Charleses and Jameses in abundance,
with their queens, brethren, and cousins.  There are galleries in
this house of the dimensions of college halls.

The state rooms on the ground floor are very handsome but the
queer antique little old corners, cells, recesses, "passages that
lead to nothing," unexpected openings, and abrupt stoppages, with
the quaint devices of various old-fashioned ornaments, amused me
the most.

     Page 332

My bed-room was furnished with crimson velvet, bed included, yet
so high, though only the second story, that it made me giddy to
look into the park, and tired to wind up the flight of stairs.
It was formerly the favourite room, the housekeeper told me, of
Bishop Ken, who put on his shroud in it before he died.  Had I
fancied I had seen his ghost, I might have screamed my voice
away, unheard by any assistant to lay it; for so far was I from
the rest of the habitable part of the mansion, that not the lungs
of Mr. Bruce could have availed me.(319)

The park is noble and spacious.  It was filled with country
folks, permitted to enter that they might see their sovereigns,
and it looked as gay without as it seemed gloomy within.  The
people were dressed in their best, as if they came to a fair ;
and such shouts and hallooings ensued, whenever the king appeared
at a window, that the whole building rang again with the
vibration.  Nothing upon earth can be more gratifying than the
sight of this dear and excellent king thus loved and received by
all descriptions of his subjects.


                    TOTTENHAM COURT: RETURN TO WINDSOR.

Sept. 16.-We set out, amidst the acclamations of a multitude,
from Longleat for Tottenham park, the seat of Lord Aylesbury.
The park is of great extent and moderate beauty.  The house is
very well.

We had only our own party, the three gentlemen, at dinner and
breakfast.  These gentlemen only dine with the king when he keeps
house, and keeps it incog. himself.  At Tottenham park, only my
Lord Aylesbury, as master of the house, was admitted.  He and his
lady were both extremely desirous to make all their guests
comfortable ; and Lady Aylesbury very politely offered me the use
of her own collection of books.  But I found, at the top of the
house, a very large old library, in which there were sundry
uncommon and curious old English tracts, that afforded me much
entertainment.  'Tis a library of long standing.

Here are many original portraits also, that offer enough for
speculation.  A "Bloody Mary," by Sir Anthony More, which I saw
with much curiosity, and liked better than I expected.  The
beautiful Duchesses of Cleveland and Portsmouth, I fancy

Page 333

by Kneller; but we had no cicerone.  A very fine picture of a
lady in black, that I can credit to be Vandyke, but who else can
I know not.  Several portraits by Sir Peter Lely, extremely soft
and pleasing, and of subjects uncommonly beautiful; many by Sir
Godfrey Kneller, well enough; and many more by Sir Something
Thornhill,(320) very thick and heavy.

The good lord of the mansion put up a new bed for the king and
queen that cost him nine hundred pounds.

Two things I heard here with concern-that my godmother, Mrs.
Greville, was dead; and that poor Sir Joshua Reynolds had lost
the sight of one of his eyes.(321)

Sept. 18.-We left Tottenham Court, and returned to Windsor.  The
royals hastened to the younger princesses, and I to Mrs.
Schwellenberg.  I was civilly received, however.  But deadly dead
sunk my heart as I entered her apartment.

The next day I had a visit from my dear brother Charles full of
business, letters, etc.  I rejoiced to see him, and to confab
over all his affairs, plans, and visions, more at full length
than for a long time past.  I was forced to introduce him to Mrs.
Schwellenberg, and he flourished away successfully enough; but it
was very vexatious, as he had matters innumerable for discussion.

(305) The palace of Kew.-ED.

(306) See ante, p. 44.-ED.

(307) The Duke of Clarence, third son of George III.; afterwards
William IV.-ED.

(308) The Jessamy Bride."  See ante, vol. i, p. 111.-ED.

(309) "Observations and Reflections made in the course of a
Journey through France, Italy, and Germany," by published in
1789.

(310) "The Midnight Hour," a comedy by Mrs. Inchbald, well known
as the authoress of "A Simple Story," and "Nature and Art," was
originally produced at Covent Garden, May 22, 1787.  "The
Commissary," a comedy by Samuel Foote, partly taken from "Le
Bourgeois Gentilhomme," was first performed at the Haymarket in
June, 1765.  Mr. Quick and Mrs. Wells were popular comedians of
the time.-ED.

(311) In "The Provoked Husband," by Vanbrugh and Cibber.-ED.

(312) Sir Ashton Lever was noted for his extensive and valuable
collection of objects of natural history.  In 1775 he opened a
museum in Leicester Square, in which his collection was shown to
the public; but ten years later he was compelled to dispose of
it.  The new proprietor exhibited the collection for some years,
but it was finally sold and dispersed.-ED.

(312) Maria Anne Smythe was born in 1756, and married, in 1775,
Edward Weld of Lulworth Castle.  He died within a year, and she
married, in 1778, Thomas Fitzherbert of Swinnerton,
Staffordshire, who died in 1781.  In December, 1785, Mrs.
Fitzherbert was privately married to the Prince of Wales.  The
marriage was never publicly recognised, and its legality was
perhaps disputable: for by the Act of 1772 the marriage of any
member of the Royal family under the age of twenty-five without
the king's consent, was declared invalid, and at the date of his
marriage with the beautiful Mrs Fitzherbert, the Prince was but
twenty-three years of age.  he always treated her as his wife,
however, and she was received in society.  She continued to live
with him even after his marriage with the Princess Caroline, and
finally parted from him in 1803, retiring with an allowance of
6,000 pounds a year to Brighton, where she died in 1837.-ED.

(313) A character in Colman's comedy of "The Jealous Wife."-ED.

(314) Sisters--the Italian word.-ED.

(315) Dock is now called Devonport.-ED.

(316) The lady-sculptor, the Hon. Mrs. Damer, daughter of General
Conway and kinswoman of Horace Walpole, who bequeathed to her,
for the term of her life, his villa at Strawberry Hill.  Her
performances in sculpture were of no great merit, but were
prodigiously admired by Horace Walpole, who had a notorious
weakness for the works of persons of quality.  Mrs. Damer was a
staunch whig, and canvassed Westminster on behalf of Charles Fox
at the election of 1784, in company with the Duchess of
Devonshire and Mrs. Crewe.-ED.

(317) His late wife, it will be remembered, was a daughter of
Lord Ilchester.-ED.

(318) Longleat, in Wiltshire, was never intended for a monastery,
but Was built from a design, it is said, by John of Padua, for
Sir John Thynne, who was knighted by Somerset on the field, after
the battle of Pinkie.  Sir John's descendant, Thomas Thynne,
Esq., of Longleat, the wealthy friend of Monmouth, and the "wise
Issachar" of Dryden's "Absalom and Achitophel," was murdered in
his coach in Pall-Mall (February 12, 1682), by the contrivance of
Count Koenigsmark, who was tried for the murder and acquitted,
although his confederates, the actual perpetrators of the crime,
were hanged for it.  Thomas Thynne was succeeded in his estates
by his cousin, Sir Thomas Thynne, who was the same year created
Baron Thynne and Viscount Weymouth, titles which have descended
in the family, and to which that of Marquis of Bath has since
been added." (See "Count Koenigsmark and Tom of Ten Thousand," by
H. Vizetelly, London, 1890.)-ED.

(319) James Bruce, the famous African traveller, made the
acquaintance of the Burney family in 1775.  He was about seven
feet in height.  In her early letters to Mr. Crisp, Fanny calls
him the "man-mountain."-ED.

(320) Sir James Thornhill, the father-in-law of Hogarth.-ED.

(321) "One day, in the month of July, 1789, while finishing the
portrait of the Marchioness of Hereford, he felt a sudden decay
of sight in his left eye.  He laid down the pencil, sat a little
while in mute consideration, and never lifted it more.  His sight
gradually darkened, and within ten weeks of the first attack his
left eye was wholly blind." (Allan Cunningham.) For some time
after this he attended to his duties as President of the Royal
Academy, and he delivered his last address to the students in
1790.  Sir Joshua died in his sixty-ninth year, February 23,
1792-ED.



Page 334
                                SECTION 16.
                                (1789-90.)

                MR. FAIRLY'S'MARRIAGE: THE HASTINGS TRIAL,

                RUMOURS OF MR. FAIRLY'S IMPENDING MARRIAGE.

Colonel Gwynn told us, at tea-time, of the wonderful
recovery of Colonel Goldsworthy, who has had an almost desperate
illness; and then added that he had dined the preceding day with
him, and met Mr. Fairly, who was coming to Windsor, and all
prepared, when he was suddenly stopped, on the very preceding
evening, by a fresh attack of the gout.

I heard this with much concern, and made many inquiries, which
were presently interrupted by an exclamation of Major Garth, who
was now in waiting: "The gout?" he cried: "nay, then, it is time
he should get a nurse; and, indeed, I hear he has one in view."
Colonel Gwynn instantly turned short, with a very significant
smile of triumph, towards me, that seemed to confirm this
assertion, while it exulted in his own prediction at Cheltenham.


The following morning, while I was alone with my royal mistress,
she mentioned Mr. Fairly for the first time since we left
Weymouth.  It was to express much displeasure against him: e had
misled Lord Aylesbury about the ensuing Drawing-room, by
affirming there would be none this month.  After saying how wrong
this was, and hearing me venture to answer I could not doubt but
he must have had some reason, which, if known, might account for
his mistake, she suddenly, and with some severity of accent,
said, "He will not come

Page 335

here!  For some reason or other he does not choose it!  He cannot
bear to come!"

How was I amazed! and silenced pretty effectually

She then added, "He has set his head against coming.  I know he
has been in town some considerable time, but he has desired it
may not be told here.  I know, too, that when he has been met in
the streets, he has called out, 'For heaven's sake, if you are
going to Windsor, do not say you have seen me.'"

Nov. 18.-We were to go to town: but while I was taking my hasty
breakfast Miss Planta flew into the room, eagerly exclaiming,
"Have you heard the news?"  I saw, instantly, by her eyes and
manner, what she meant and therefore answered, "I believe so."

"Mr. Fairly is going to be married!  I resolved I would tell
you."

I heard the rumour," I replied, "the other day, from Colonel
Gwynn."

"O, it's true!" she cried; "he has written to ask leave; but for
heaven's sake don't say so!"

I gave her my ready promise, for I believed not a syllable of the
matter; but I would not tell her that.


            A ROYAL VISIT TO THE THEATRE: JAMMED IN THE CROWD.

We went to town not only for the Drawing-room on the next day,
but also for the play on this Wednesday night,(322) and the party
appointed to sit in the queen's private box, as, on these
occasions, the balcony-box opposite to the royals is called,
dined with Mrs. Schwellenberg,--namely, Mrs. Stainforth, Miss
Planta, Mr. de Luc, and Mr. Thomas Willis,

When we arrived at the playhouse(323) we found the lobby and all
the avenues so crowded, that it was with the utmost difficulty we
forced our way up the stairs.  It was the first appearance of the
good king at the theatre since his illness.

When we got up stairs, we were stopped effectually: there was not
room for a fly ; and though our box was not only taken and kept,
but partitioned off, to get to it was wholly impracticable.

Mr. Willis and Miss Planta protested they would go down

Page 336
again, and remonstrate with Mr. Harris, the manager; and I must
own the scene that followed was not unentertaining.  Mrs.
Stainforth and myself were fast fixed in an angle at the corner
of the stairs, and Mr. de Luc stood in the midst of the crowd,
where he began offering so many grave arguments, with such
deliberation and precision, every now and then going back in his
reasoning to correct his own English, representing our right to
proceed, and the wrong of not making way for us, that it was
irresistibly comic to see the people stare, as they pushed On,
and to see his unconscious content in their passing him, so long
as he completed his expostulations on their indecorum.

Meanwhile, poor Mrs. Stainforth lost her cloak, and in her loud
lamentations, and calls upon all present to witness her distress
(to which, for enhancing its importance, she continually added,
"Whoever has found it should bring it to the Queen's house"), she
occupied the attention of all upon the stairs as completely as it
was occupied by Mr. de Luc for all in 'the passages : but, alas!
neither the philosophic harangue of the one, nor the royal
dignity of the other, prevailed; and while there we stood,
expecting an avenue to be formed, either for our eloquence or our
consequence, not an inch of ground did we gain, and those who had
neither made their way, and got on in multitudes.

Offended, at length, as well as tired, Mrs. Stainforth proposed
our going down, and waiting in the lobby, till Mr. Harris
arrived.  Here we were joined by a gentleman, whose manner of
fixing me showed a half-recollection of my face, which I
precisely returned him, without being able to recollect where I
had seen him before.  He spoke to Mrs. Stainforth, who answered
as if she knew him, and then he came to me and offered to assist
in getting me to my box.  I told him the manager had already been
sent to.  He did not, however, go off, but entered into
conversation upon the crowd, play, etc., with the ease of an old
acquaintance.  I took the first opportunity to inquire of Mrs.
Stainforth who he was, and heard--Lord Mountmorres, whom you may
remember I met with at the theatre at Cheltenham.

What, however, was ridiculous though was, that, after a
considerable length of time, he asked me who Mrs. Stainforth was,
and I afterwards heard he had made the same inquiry of herself
about me!  The difference of a dressed and undressed head had
occasioned, I suppose, the doubt.  The moment,


Page 337

however, he had completely satisfied himself in this, he fairly
joined me, as if he had naturally belonged to our party.  And it
turned out very acceptable, for we were involved in all such sort
of difficulties as our philosopher was the least adapted to
remove.

We now went about, in and out, up and down, but without any power
to make way, the crowd every instant thickening.  We then were
fain to return to our quiet post, behind the side-boxes in the
lobby, where we remained till the arrival of the king, and then
were somewhat recompensed for missing the sight of his entrance,
by hearing the sound of his reception: for so violent an huzzaing
commenced, such thundering clapping, knocking with sticks, and
shouting, and so universal a chorus of "God save the king," that
not all the inconveniences of my situation could keep my heart
from beating with joy, nor my eyes from running over with
gratitude for its occasion.

Lord Mountmorres, who joined in the stick part of the general
plaudit, exclaimed frequently, "What popularity is this! how fine
to a man's feelings! yet he Must find it embarrassing."  Indeed I
should suppose he could with difficulty bear it, 'Twas almost
adoration! How much I lament that I lost the sight of his benign
countenance, during such glorious moments as the most favoured
monarchs can scarce enjoy twice in the longest life!

Miss Planta and Mr. Willis now returned: they had had no success;
Mr. Harris said they might as well stem the tide of the ocean as
oppose or rule such a crowd.  The play now began ; and Lord
Mountmorres went away to reconnoitre, but, presently returning,
said, "If you will trust yourselves with me I will show you your
chance."  And then he conducted me to the foot of the stairs
leading to our box, which exhibited such a mass of living
creatures, that the insects of an ant-hill could scarce be more
compact.

We were passed by Lord Stopford, Captain Douglas, and some other
of our acquaintance, who told us of similar distresses; and in
this manner passed the first act!  The boxkeeper came and told
Lord Mountmorres he could now give his lordship one seat: but the
humours of the lobby he now preferred, and refused the place:
though I repeatedly begged that we might not detain him.  But he
was determined to see us safe landed before he left us.


Page 338
Mr. Harris now came again, and proposed taking us another way, to
try to get up some back-stairs.  We then went behind the scenes
for this purpose : but here Mr. Harris was called away, and we
were left upon the stage.  Lord Mountmorres led me to various
peep-holes, where I could at least have the satisfaction of
seeing the king and royal family, as well as the people, and the
whole was a sight most grateful to my eyes.

So civil, however, and so attentive he was, that a new perplexity
now occurred to me : he had given up his place, and had taken so
much trouble, that I thought, if we at last got to our box, he
would certainly expect to be accommodated.  in it.  And to take
any one, without previous permission, into the queen's private
box, and immediately facing their majesties, was a liberty I knew
not how to risk ; and, in truth, I knew not enough of his present
politics to be at all sure if they might not be even peculiarly
obnoxious.  This consideration, therefore, began now so much to
reconcile me to this emigrant evening, that I ceased even to wish
for recovering our box.


                           IN THE MANAGER's Box.

When Mr. Harris came back, he said he had nothing to propose but
his own box, which was readily accepted.  To this our access was
easy, as it was over the king and queen, and consequently not
desirable to those who came to see them.  I too now preferred it,
as it was out of their sight, and enabled me to tell Lord
Mountmorres, who led me to it through the crowd with unceasing
trouble and attention, that till he could get better accommodated
a place was at his service.

He closed instantly with the offer, placing himself behind me ;
but said he saw some of his relations in the opposite stage-box,
Lady Mornington and her beautiful daughter Lady Ann Wellesley,
and, as soon as the act was over, he would go down and persuade
them to make room for him.

I was shocked, however, after all this, to hear him own himself
glad to sit down, as he was still rather lame, from a dreadful
overturn in a carriage, in which his leg had been nearly crushed
by being caught within the coach-door, which beat down upon it,
and almost demolished it.

This anecdote, however, led to another more pleasant; for it
brought on a conversation which showed me his present principles,
at least, were all on the government side.  The accident had
happened during a Journey to Chester, in his way to


Page 339

Ireland, whither he was hastening upon the Regency business, last
winter: and he went to the Irish House of Peers the first time he
quitted his room, after a confinement of three weeks from this
terrible bruise.

"But how," cried I, "could you stand?"

"I did not stand," he answered; "they indulged me with leave to
speak sitting."

"What a useful opening, then, my lord," cried I, "did you lose
for every new paragraph!" I meant, the cant of "Now I am upon my
legs." He understood it instantly, and laughed heartily,
protesting it was no small detriment to his oratory.

The play was the "Dramatist,"(324) written with that species of
humour in caricature that resembles O'Keefe's performances; full
of absurdities, yet laughable in the extreme.  We heard very ill,
and, missing the beginning, we understood still worse: so that,
in fact, I was indebted to my new associate for all the
entertainment I received the whole evening.

When the act was over, the place on which he had cast his eye,
near Lady Mornington, was seized; he laughed, put down his hat,
and composed himself quietly for remaining where he was.  He must
be a man of a singular character, though of what sort I know not:
but in his conversation he showed much information, and a
spirited desire of interchanging ideas with those who came in his
way.

We talked a great deal of France, and he related to me a variety
of anecdotes just fresh imported thence.  He was there at the
first assembling of the Notables, and he saw, he said impending
great events from that assemblage.  The two most remarkable
things that had struck him, he told me, in this wonderful
revolution, were--first, that the French guards should ever give
up their king; and secondly, that the chief spirit and capacity
hither-to shown amongst individuals had come from the
ecclesiastics.

He is very much of the opinion the spirit of the times will come
round to this island.  In what, I asked, could be its pretence?--
The game-laws, he answered, and the tithes.  He told me, also, a
great deal of Ireland, and enlarged my political knowledge
abundantly,--but I shall not be so generous, my dear friends, as
to let you into all these state matters.

But I must tell you a good sort of quirk of Mr.  Wilkes, who,
when the power of the mob and their cruelty were first reciting,

Page 340

quarrelled with a gentleman for saying the French government was
become a democracy and asserted it was rather a mobocracy.  The
pit, he said, reminded him of a sight he once saw in Westminster
Hall,--a floor of faces.

He was a candidate for Westminster at that time, with Charles
Fox!--thus do we veer about.

At the end of the farce, "God save the king" was most
vociferously called for from all parts of the theatre, and all
the singers of the theatre came on the stage to sing it, joined
by the whole audience, who kept it up till the sovereign of his
people's hearts left the house.  It was noble and heart-melting
at once to hear and see such loyal rapture, and to feel and know
it so deserved.


                      MR. FAIRLY'S MARRIAGE IMMINENT.

NOV. 20.-Some business sent me to speak with Miss Planta before
our journey back to Windsor.  When it was executed and I was
coming away, she called out, "O! Špropos--it's all declared, and
the princesses wished Miss Fuzilier joy yesterday in the
Drawing-room.  She looked remarkably well ; but said Mr. Fairly
had still a little gout, and could not appear."

Now first my belief followed assertion;--but it was only because
it was inevitable, since the princesses could not have proceeded
so far without certainty. . . . . .

We returned to Windsor as usual, and there I was, just as usual,
obliged to finish every evening with picquet !--and to pass all
and every afternoon, from dinner to midnight, in picquet company.

Nov. 28.-The queen, after a very long airing, came * in to dress,
and summoned me immediately; and in two minutes the princess
royal entered, and said something in German, and then added, "And
Mr. Fairly, ma'am, begs he may see you a moment, now, if
possible."

This is his first coming to the house since her royal highness's
birthday, just two months ago.

"I am very sorry," was answered coolly, "but I am going to
dress."

"He won't keep you a moment, mamma, only he wants to get on to
St. Leonards to dinner,"

Miss Fuzilier is now there."

"Well, then," she answered, "I'll slip on my powdering-gown, and
see him."


Page 341

I found, however, they had already met, probably in the
passage, for the queen added, "How melancholy he looks, does not
he, princess royal?"

"Yes, indeed, mamma!"--They then again talked ' German.

The princess then went to call him ; and I hastened into the next
room, with some caps just then inspecting.

Mr. Turbulent again dined with us, and said, "I find Mr. Fairly
is here to-day? when is he to be married?"

Mrs. Schwellenberg reproved him for talking of "soch things:" she
holds it petty treason to speak of it, as they are both in office
about the Court; though she confessed it would be in a fortnight.

At tea, when the gentlemen--General Budé, Majors Price and Garth,
and Mr. Willis--appeared, she said, "Where be Mr. Fairly?" They
all exclaimed, "Is he here?"

"O, certain, if he ben't gone!"

I then said he had gone on to St. Leonards.

They all expressed the utmost surprise that he should come, and
go, and see none of them.

When they retired, Mrs. Schwellenberg exclaimed, "For what not
stay one night? For what not go to the gentlemen? It looks like
when he been ashamed.--O fie! I don't not like soch ting.  And
for what always say contrarie?--always say to everybody he won't
not have her!--There might be something wrong in all that--it
looks not well."

I saw a strong desire to have me enter into the merits of the
case; but I constantly answer to these exclamations, that these
sort of situations are regarded in the world as licensing denials
first, and truancy from all others afterwards.


                          COURT DUTIES DISCUSSED.

December.-Let me now, to enliven you a little, introduce to you a
new acquaintance, self-made, that I meet at the chapel, and who
always sits next me when there is room,-- Mrs. J--, wife to the
Bishop of K--: and before the service begins, she enters into
small talk, with a pretty tolerable degree of frankness, not much
repressed by scruples of delicacy.

Take a specimen.  She opened, the other morning, upon my
situation and occupation, and made the most plump inquiries into
its particulars, with a sort of hearty good humour

Page 342

that removed all impertinence, whatever it left of inelegance and
then began her comments.

"Well; the queen, to be sure, is a great deal better dressed than
she used to be; but for all that, I really think it is but an odd
thing for you!--Dear! I think it's something so out of the way
for you!--I can't think how you set about it.  It must have been
very droll to you at first.  A great deal of honour, to be sure,
to serve a queen, and all that: but I dare say a lady's-maid
could do it better,--though to be called about a queen, as I say,
is a great deal of honour: but, for my part, I should not like
it; because to be always obliged to go to a person, whether one
was in the humour or not, and to get up in a morning, if one was
never so sleepy!--dear! it must be a mighty hurry-skurry life!
you don't look at all fit for it, to judge by appearances, for
all its great honour, and all that."

Is not this a fit bishop's wife? is not here primitive candour
and veracity? I laughed most heartily,--and we have now commenced
acquaintance for these occasional meetings.

If this honest dame does not think me fit for this part of my
business, there is another person, Mlle. Montmoulin, who, with
equal simplicity, expresses her idea of my unfitness for another
part.-- How you bear it," she cries, "living with Mrs.
Schwellenberg!--I like it better living in prison!--'pon
m'honneur, I prefer it bread and water; I think her so cross
never was.  If I you, I won't bear it--poor Miss Burney!--I so
sorry!--'pon m'honneur, I think to you oftens!--you so confined,
you won't have no pleasures!--"

Miss Gomme, less plaintive, but more solemn, declared the other
day, "I am sure you must go to heaven for living this
life!"---So, at least, you see, though in a court, I am not an
object of envy.


                       MR. FAIRLY'S STRANGE WEDDING.

January, 1790.-Mr. Fairly was married the 6th--I must wish
happiness to smile on that day, and all its anniversaries, it
gave a happiness to me unequalled, for it was the birthday of my
Susanna!

One evening, about this time, Mr. Fisher, now Doctor, drank tea
with us at Windsor, and gave me an account of Mr. Fairly's
marriage that much amazed me.  He had been called upon to perform
the ceremony.  It was by special licence, and at the house of Sir
R- G-.(325)  @


Page 343

So religious, so strict in all ceremonies, even, of religion, as
he always appeared, his marrying out of a church was to me very
unexpected.  Dr. Fisher was himself surprised, when called upon,
and said he supposed it must be to please the lady.

Nothing, he owned, could be less formal or solemn than the whole.
Lady C., Mrs. and Miss S., and her father and brother and sister,
were present.  They all dined together at the usual hour,'and
then the ladies, as usual, retired.  Some time after, the clerk
was sent for, and then, with the gentlemen, joined the ladies,
who were in the drawing-room, seated on sofas, just as at any
other time, Dr. Fisher says he is not sure they were working, but
the air of common employment was such, that he rather thinks it,
and everything of that sort was spread about as on any common
day--workboxes, netting-cases, etc.  Mr. Fairly then asked Dr.
Fisher what they were to do?  He answered, he could not tell; for
he had never married anybody in a room before.

Upon this, they agreed to move a table to the upper end of the
room, the ladies still sitting quietly, and then Put on it
candles and a prayer-book.  Dr. Fisher says he hopes it was not a
card-table, and rather believes it was only a Pembroke
work-table.  The lady and Sir R. then came forward, and Dr.
Fisher read the service.

So this, methinks, seems the way to make all things easy!

Yet--with so little solemnity-without even a room prepared and
empty--to go through a business of such portentous seriousness!--
'Tis truly amazing from a man who seemed to delight so much in
religious regulations and observances.  Dr. Fisher himself was
dissatisfied, and wondered at his compliance, though he
attributed the plan to the lady.

The bride behaved extremely well, he said, and was all smile and
complacency.  He had never seen her to such advantage, or in such
soft looks, before; and perfectly serene, though her sister was
so much moved as to go into hysterics.

Afterwards, at seven o'clock, the bride and bride-groom set off
for a friend's house in Hertfordshire by themselves, attended by
servants with white favours.  The rest of the party, father,
sister, and priest included, went to the play, which happened to
be Benedict.


Page 344

                          A VISIT FROM THE BRIDE.

I shall say nothing of the queen's birthday, but that I had a
most beautiful trimming worked me for it by Miss Cambridge, who
half fatigued herself to death, for the kind pleasure that I
should have my decorations from her hands.  If in some points my
lot has been unenviable, what a constant solace, what sweet and
soft amends, do I find and feel in the almost unexampled union of
kindness and excellence in my chosen friends!

The day after the birthday produced a curious scene.  To soften
off, by the air, a violent headache, I determined upon walking to
Chelsea to see my dear father.  I knew I should thus avoid
numerous visitors of the household, who might pay their devoirs
to Mrs. Schwellenberg.

I missed my errand, and speedily returned, and found many cards
from bed-chamber women and maids of honour; and, while still
reading them, I was honoured with a call from the Bishop of
Salisbury; and in two minutes my dear father came himself.

A pleasant conversation was commencing, when Columb opened the
door, and said, "Colonel Fairly begs leave to ask you how you
do."  He had been married but a week before he came into the
midst of all the Court bustle, which he had regularly attended
ever since!

It was a good while before the door opened again - and I heard a
buzz of voices in the passage: but when it was thrown open, there
appeared--the bride herself--and alone!  She looked quite
brilliant in smiles and spirits.  I never saw a countenance so
enlivened.  I really believe she has long cherished a passionate
regard for Mr. Fairly, and brightens now from its prosperity.

I received her with all' the attention in my power, immediately
wishing her joy: she accepted it with a thousand dimples, and I
seated her on the sofa, and myself by her side.  Nobody followed;
and I left the bishop to my father, while we entered into
conversation, upon the birthday, her new situation in being
exempt from its fatigues, and other matters of the time being.

I apologised to Mrs. Fairly for my inability to return the honour
of her visit, but readily undertook to inform her majesty of her
inquiries, which she earnestly begged from me,


Page 345

                      RENEWAL OF THE HASTINGS TRIAL:
                           A POETICAL IMPROMPTU.

Feb. 16-Mr. Hastings's trial re-commenced; and her majesty
graciously presented me with tickets for Mr. Francis, Charlotte,
and myself.  She acknowledged a very great curiosity to know
whether my old friends amongst the managers would renew their
intercourse with a Court friend, or include me in the distaste
conceived against herself, and drop their visits.  I had not once
been to the trial the preceding year, nor seen any of the set
since the king's illness.

We were there hours before they entered, all spent in a harmony
of converse and communication I never for three hours following
can have elsewhere: no summons impending--no fear of accidental
delay drawing off attention to official solicitude.

At the stated time they entered in the usual form, Mr. Burke
first.  I felt so grieved a resentment of his late conduct,(326)
that I was glad to turn away from his countenance.  I looked
elsewhere during the whole procession, and their subsequent
arrangement, that I might leave totally to themselves and their
consciences whether to notice a friend from Court or not.  Their
consciences said not.  No one came; I only heard through
Charlotte that Mr. Windham was of the set.

Mr. Anstruther spoke, and all others took gentle naps!  I don't
believe he found it out.  When all was concluded, I saw one of
them ascending towards our seats : and presently heard the voice
of Mr. Burke.

I wished myself many miles off! 'tis so painful to see with utter
disapprobation those faces we have met, with joy and pleasure! He
came to speak to some relations of Mr. Anstruther.  I was next
them, and, when recovered from my first repugnance, I thought it
better to turn round, not to seem leading the way myself to any
breach.  I met his eyes immediately, and curtsied.  He only said,
"O! is it you?"  then asked how I did, said something in praise
of Mr. Anstruther, partly to his friends and partly to me--heard
from me no reply--and hurried away, coldly, and with a look
dissatisfied and uncordial.  I was much concerned; and we came
away soon after.

Here is an impromptu, said to have been written by Mr.

Page 346

Hastings during Mr. Grey's speech, which was a panegyric on Mr,
Philip Francis:--

"It hurts me not, that Grey,, as Burke's assessor,
Proclaims me Tyrant, Robber, and Oppressor,
Tho' for abuse alone meant:
For when he call'd himself the bosom friend,
The Friend of Philip Francis,--I con'end
He made me full atonement."

I was called upon, on my return, to relate the day's business.
Heavy and lame was the relation - but their majesties were
curious, and nothing better suited truth.


                     AN ILLBRED EARL OF CHESTERFIELD.

Our tea-party was suddenly enlarged by the entrance of the Lords
Chesterfield, Bulkley, and Fortescue.  Lord Chesterfield brought
in the two latter without any ceremony, and never introduced nor
named them, but chatted off with them apart, as if they were in a
room to themselves: and Colonel Wellbred, to whom all gentlemen
here belong, was out of the room ]if search of a curious
snuff-box that he had promised to show to us.  Major Price, who
by great chance was seated next me, jumped up as if so many wild
beasts had entered, and escaped to the other side of the room,
and Mr. Willis was only a sharp looker-on.

This was awkward enough for a thing so immaterial, as I could not
even ask them to have any tea, from uncertainty how to address
them; and I believe they were entirely ignorant whither Lord
Chesterfield was bringing them, as they came In only to wait for
a royal summons.

How would that quintessence of high ton, the late Lord
Chesterfield, blush to behold his successor! who, with much share
of humour, and of good humour also, has as little good breeding
as any mail I ever met with.

Take an instance.-Lord Bulkley, who is a handsome man, is
immensely tall; the major, who is middle-sized, was standing by
his chair, in close conference with him--"Why, Bulkley," cried
Lord Chesterfield, "you are just the height sitting that Price is
standing."

Disconcerted a little, they slightly laughed; but Lord Bulkley
rose, and they walked off to a greater distance.  Lord
Chesterfield, looking after them, exclaimed, "What a


Page 347
walking steeple he is!--why, Bulkley, you ought to cut off your
legs to be on a level with society!"

When they were all summoned away, except Mr. Willis, who has
never that honour but in private, he lifted up his hands and
eyes, and called out, "I shall pity those men when the book comes
out!--I would not be in their skins!"

I understood him perfectly,--and answered, truly, that I was
never affronted more than a minute with those by whom I could
never longer be pleased.


                      Miss BURNEY IN A NEW CAPACITY.

March 2.- In one of our Windsor excursions at this time, while I
was in her majesty's dressing-room, with only Mr. de Luc present,
she suddenly said, "Prepare yourself, Miss Burney, with all your
spirits, for to-night you must be reader."

She then added that she recollected what she had been told by my
honoured Mrs. Delany, of my reading- Shakspeare to her, and was
desirous that I should read a play to herself and the princesses;
and she had lately heard, from Mrs. Schwellenberg, "nobody could
do it better, when I would."

I assured her majesty it was rather when I could, as any reading
Mrs. Schwellenberg had heard must wholly have been better or
worse according to my spirits, as she had justly seemed to
suggest.

The moment coffee was over the Princess Elizabeth came for me.  I
found her majesty knotting, the princess royal drawing, Princess
Augusta spinning, and Lady Courtown I believe in the same
employment, but I saw none of them perfectly well.

"Come, Miss Burney," cried the queen, " how are your spirits?--
How is your voice?"                                       '

"She says, ma'am," cried the kind Princess Elizabeth, "she shall
do her best!"

This had been said in attending her royal highness back.  I could
only confirm it, and that cheerfully-to hide fearfully.

I had not the advantage of choosing my play, nor do I know what
would have been my decision had it fallen to my lot.  Her
majesty, had just begun Colman's works, and "Polly Honeycomb" was
to open my campaign.

"I think," cried the queen most graciously, "Miss Burney will
read the better for drawing a chair and sitting down,".


Page 348
" yes, mamma! I dare say so!" cried Princess Augusta and Princess
Elizabeth, both in a moment.

The queen then told me to draw my chair close to her side.  I
made no scruples.  Heaven knows I needed not the addition of
standing!  but most glad I felt in being placed thus near, as it
saved a constant painful effort of loud reading.

"Lady Courtown," cried the queen, "you had better draw nearer,
for Miss Burney has the misfortune of reading rather low at
first."

Nothing could be more amiable than this opening.  Accordingly, I
did, as I had promised, my best; and, indifferent as that was, it
would rather have surprised you, all things considered, that it
was not yet worse.  But I exerted all the courage I possess, and,
having often read to the queen, I felt how much it behoved me not
to let her surmise I had any greater awe to surmount.

It is but a vulgar performance; and I was obliged to omit, as
well as I could at sight, several circumstances very unpleasant
for reading, and ill enough fitted for such hearers.  it went off
pretty flat.  Nobody is to comment, nobody is to interrupt; and
even between one act and another not a moment's pause is expected
to be made.

I had been already informed of this etiquette by Mr.  Turbulent
and Miss Planta; nevertheless, it is not only oppressive to the
reader, but loses to the hearers so much spirit and satisfaction,
that I determined to endeavour, should I again be called upon, to
introduce a little break into this tiresome and unnatural
profundity of respectful solemnity.  My own embarrassment,
however, made it agree with me for the present uncommonly well.

Lady Courtown never uttered one single word the whole time; yet
is she one of the most loquacious of our establishment.  But such
is the settled etiquette.

The queen has a taste for conversation, and the princesses a
good-humoured love for it, that doubles the regret of such an
annihilation of all nature and all pleasantry.  But what will not
prejudice and education inculcate?  They have been brought up to
annex silence to respect and decorum: to talk, therefore, unbid,
or to differ from any given opinion even when called upon, are
regarded as high improprieties, if not presumptions.

They none of them do justice to their own minds, while they
enforce this subjection upon the minds of others.  I had not


Page 349

experienced it before ; for when reading alone with the queen, or
listening to her reading to me, I have always frankly spoken
almost whatever has occurred to me.  But there I had no other
examples before me, and therefore I might inoffensively be guided
by myself; and her majesty's continuance of the same honour has
shown no disapprobation of my proceeding.  But here it was not
easy to make any decision for myself: to have done what Lady
Courtown forbore doing would have been undoubtedly a liberty.

So we all behaved alike - and easily can I now conceive the
disappointment and mortification of poor Mr. Garrick when he read
"Lethe" to a royal audience.  Its tameness must have tamed even
him, and I doubt not he never acquitted himself so ill.


         THE LONG-FORGOTTEN TRAGEDY: MISS BURNEY AGAIN AS READER.

On Easter Sunday, the 4th of April, when I left my beloved Susan
at St. James's, I left with her all spirit for any voluntary
employment, and it occurred to me I could best while away the
leisure allowed me by returning to my long-forgotten tragedy.
This I have done, in those moments as yet given to my journal,
and it is well I had so sad a resource, since any merrier I must
have aimed at in vain.

It was a year and four months since I had looked at or thought of
it.  I found nothing but unconnected speeches, and hints, and
ideas, though enough in quantity, perhaps, for a whole play.  I
have now begun planning and methodising, and have written three
or four regular scenes.  I mention all these particulars of my
progress, in answer to certain queries in the comments of my
Susan and Fredy, both of old date.


Well (for that is my hack, as "however" is my dear Susanna's), we
set off rather late for Windsor,-Mr. de Luc, Miss Planta, and
myself; Mrs. Schwellenberg stayed in town. . . .

I invited my old beau, as her majesty calls Mr. Bryant, to
dinner, and he made me my best day out of the ten days of our
Windsor sojourn.  He has insisted upon lending me some more
books, all concerning the most distant parts of the earth, or on
subjects the most abstruse.  His singular simplicity in
constantly conceiving that, because to him such books alone are
new, they must have the same recommendation to me, is


Page 350

extremely amusing; and though I do all that is possible to clear
up the distinction, he never remembers it.

The king, for which I was very sorry, did not come Into the room.
He made it but one visit, indeed, during this week.  He then
conversed almost wholly with General Grenville upon the affairs
of France; and in a manner so unaffected, open and manly, so
highly superior to all despotic principles, even while most
condemning the unlicensed fury of the Parisian mob, that I wished
all the nations of the world to have heard him, that they might
have known the real existence of a patriot king.

Another reading took place, and much more comfortably; it was to
the queen and princesses, without any lady-in-waiting.  The
queen, as before, condescended to order me to sit close to her
side; and as I had no model before me, I scrupled much less to
follow the bent of my own ideas by small occasional comments.
And these were of use both to body and mind; they rested the
lungs from one invariable exertion, as much as they saved the
mind from one strain of attention.

Our play was "The Man of Business," a very good comedy, but too
local for long life.  And another of Colman's which I read
afterwards has the same defect.  Half the follies and
peculiarities it satirises are wholly at an end and forgotten.
Humour springing from mere dress, or habits, or phraseology, is
quickly obsolete; when it sinks deeper, and dives into character,
it may live for ever.

I dedicated my Wednesday evening to a very comfortable visit to
our dear James, whose very good and deserving wife, and fine
little fat children, with our Esther and her fair Marianne and
Fanny, all cordially conspired to make me happy.  We read a good
deal of Captain Bligh's interesting narrative,(327)

Page  351

every word Of which James has taken as much to heart as if it
were his own production.

I go on, occasionally, with my tragedy.  It does not much
enliven, but it soothes me.


                COLONEL MANNERS IN HIS SENATORIAL CAPACITY.

April 23.--I shall add nothing at present to my Journal but the
summary of a conversation I have had with Colonel Manners, who,
at our last excursion, was here without any other gentleman.

Knowing he likes to be considered as a senator, I thought the
best subject for our discussion would be the House of Commons; I
therefore made sundry political inquiries, so foreign to My Usual
mode, that you would not a little have smiled to have heard them.
I had been informed he had once made an attempt to speak, during
the Regency business, last winter ; I begged to know how the
matter stood, and he made a most frank display of its whole
circumstances.  "Why, they were speaking away," he cried, "upon
the Regency, and so,---and they were saying if the king could not
reign, and recover; and Burke was making some of his eloquence,
and talking; and, says he, 'hurled from his throne,'---and so I
put out my finger in this manner, as if I was in a great passion,
for I felt myself very red, and I was in a monstrous passion I
suppose, but I was only going to say 'Hear! Hear!' but I happened
to lean one hand down upon my knee, in this way, just as Mr. Pitt
does when he wants to speak.- and I stooped forward, just as if I
was going to rise up and begin but just then I caught Mr. Pitt's
eye, looking at me so pitifully; he thought I was going to speak,
and he was frightened to death, for he thought--for the thing
was, he got up himself, and he said over all I wanted to say; and
the thing is, he almost always does; for just as I have something
particular to say, Mr. Pitt begins, and goes through it all, so
that he don't leave anything more to be said about it; and so, I
suppose, as he looked at me so pitifully, he thought I should say
it first, or else that I


Page 352

should get into some scrape, because I was so warm and looking so
red."

Any comment would disgrace this; I will therefore only tell you
his opinion, in his own words, of one of our late taxes.

"There's only one tax, ma'am, that ever I voted for against my
conscience, for I've always been very particular about that; but
that is the bacheldor's tax, and that I hold to be very
unconstitutional, and I am very sorry I voted for it, because
it's very unfair; for how can a man help being a bacheldor, if
nobody will have him? and besides, it's not any fault to be taxed
for, because We did not make ourselves bacheldors, for we were
made so by God, for nobody was born married, and so I think it's
a very unconstitutional tax."



          A CONVERSATION WITH MR. WINDHAM AT THE HASTINGS TRIAL.

April 27.-I had the happiness of my dearest Fredy's society in
Westminster Hall--if happiness and that place may be named
together.

The day was mixed: Evidence and Mr. Anstruther weighing it down,
and Mr. Burke speaking from time to time, and lighting it up.  O,
were his purpose worthy his talents, what an effect would his
oratory produce!  I always hear him with so much concern, I can
scarce rejoice even in being kept awake by him.

The day was nearly passed, and I was eating a biscuit to prevent
an absolute doze while Mr. Anstruther was talking, when, raising
myself from a listening bend, I turned to the left, and perceived
Mr. Windham, who had quietly placed himself by my side without
speaking.

My surprise was so great, and so totally had I given up all idea
of renewing our conferences, that I could scarce refrain
expressing it.  Probably it was visible enough, for he said, as
if apologising for coming up, that so to do was the only regale
their toils allowed them.  He then regretted that it was a stupid
day, and, with all his old civility about me and my time,
declared he was always sorry to see me there when nothing worth
attention was going forward.

This soon brought us round to our former intimacy of converse ;
and, the moment I was able, I ventured at my usual inquiry about
his own speaking, and if it would soon take place.


Page 353
"No," he answered, with a look of great pleasure, "I shall now
not speak at all.--I have cleared myself from that task, and
never with such satisfaction did I get rid of any!"

Amazed, yet internally glad, I hazarded some further inquiry into
the reason of this change of plan.

They were drawing, he said, to a conclusion, and the particular
charge which he had engaged himself to open was
relinquished.(328)  "I have therefore," he cried, "washed my
hands of making a speech, yet satisfied my conscience, my honour,
my promises, and my intentions; for I have declined undertaking
anything new, and no claim therefore remains upon me."

"Well," quoth I, "I am at a loss whether to be glad or sorry."

He comprehended instantly,--glad for Mr. Hastings, or sorry for
not hearing him.  He laughed, but said something a little
reproachful, upon my continued interest for that gentleman.  I
would not pretend it was diminished; I determined he should find
me as frank as heretofore, and abscond, or abide, as his nerves
stood the firmness.

"You are never, then" (I said afterwards), "to speak here?"

"Once," he answered, "I said a few words--"

"O when?" I cried; "I am very sorry I did not know it, and hear
you,--as you did speak!"

"O," cried he, laughing, "I do not fear this flattery now, as I
shall speak no more."

"But what," cried I, "was the occasion that drew you forth?"

"Nothing very material but I saw Burke run hard, and I wished to
help him."

"That was just," cried I, "what I should have expected from you--
and just what I have not been able not to honour, on some other
occasions, even where I have most blamed the matter that has
drawn forth the assistance."

This was going pretty far:--he could not but instantly feel I
meant the Regency discussions.  He neither made me any answer,
nor turned his head, even obliquely, my way.

I was not sorry, however.  'Tis always best to be sincere.
Finding him quite silent, to soften matters as well as I could
with honesty, I began an éloge of Mr.  Burke, both warm and true,
as far as regards his wonderful abilities.  But he soon


Page 354

distinguished the rigorous precision with which, Involuntarily, I
praised the powers without adverting to their Use.

Suddenly then, and with a look of extreme keenness, he turned his
eyes upon me, and exclaimed, "Yes,--and he has very highly, also
the faculty of being right!"  I would the friendship that
dictated this assertion were as unwarped as it is animated.

I could not help saying rather faintly, "Has he?"

Not faintly he answered, "He has!--but not the world alone, even
his friends, are apt to misjudge him.  What he enters upon,
however with earnestness, YOU will commonly find turn out as he
represents it."

His genius, his mental faculties, and the natural goodness of his
heart, I then praised as warmly as Mr. Windham could have praised
them himself; but the subject ran me aground a second time, as,
quite undesignedly, I concluded my panegyric with declaring that
I found it impossible not to admire,--nay, love him, through all
his wrong.  Ending another total silence and averted head, I
started something more general upon the trial.

His openness then returned, with all its customary vivacity, and
he expressed himself extremely irritated upon various matters
which had been carried against the managers by the judges.

"But, Mr. Windham!" exclaimed I, "the judges!--is it possible you
can enter into such a notion as to suppose Mr. Hastings capable
of bribing them?"

"O, for capable," cried he, "I don't know--"

"Well, leave that word out, and suppose him even willing--can you
imagine all the judges and all the lords--for they must concur--
disposed to be bribed?"

"No; but I see them all determined to acquit Mr. Hastings."

"Determined?--nay, that indeed is doing him very little honour."

"O, for honour!--if he is acquitted--"  He stopped,--as if that
were sufficient.

I ventured to ask why the judges and the lords-should make such a
determination.

"From the general knavery and villainy of mankind." was his hard
answer, "which always wishes to abet successful guilt."

"Well!" cried I, shaking my head, "you have not,


Page 355

relinquished your speech from having nothing to say.  But I am
glad you have relinquished it, for I have always been most afraid
of you ; and the reason is, those who know how to hold back will
not for nothing come forward.  There is one down there, who, if
he knew how ever to hold back, would be great indeed!"

He could not deny this, but would not affirm it.  Poor Mr.
Burke!--so near to being wholly right, while yet wholly wrong!

When Mr. Burke mounted the rostrum, Mr. Windham stopped short,
saying, "I won't interrupt you-" and, in a moment, glided back to
the managers' box; where he stood behind Mr. Burke, evidently at
hand to assist in any difficulty.  His affection for him seems to
amount to fondness.  This is not for me to wonder at.  Who was so
captivated as myself by that extraordinary man, till he would no
longer suffer me to reverence the talents I must still ever
admire?


                         A GLIMPSE OF MRS. PIOZZI.

Sunday, May 2.-This morning, in my way to church, just as I
arrived at the iron gate of our courtyard, a well-known voice
called out, "Ah, there's Miss Burney!"

I started, and looked round--and saw--Mrs. Piozzi!  I hastened up
to her; she met my held-out hand with both hers: Mr. Piozzi an
Cecilia(329) were with her--all smiling and good-humoured.

"You are going," she cried, "to church?--so, am I.  I must run
first to the inn: I suppose one--may sit--anywhere one pleases?"

"Yes," I cried, "but you must be quick, or you will sit nowhere,
there will be such a throng."  This was all;--she hurried on,--so
did I.

I received exceeding great satisfaction in this little and
unexpected meeting.  She had been upon the Terrace, and was going
to change her hat, and haste on both sides prevented awkwardness
on either.

Yet I saw she had taken in good part my concluding hand-
presentation at my dear Mr. Locke's:(330) she met me no more

 356
with that fiert`e of defiance: it was not-nor can it ever be with
her old cordiality, but it was with some degree of pleasure, and
that species of readiness which evinces a consciousness of
meeting with a good reception.


              CAPTAIN BURNEY WANTS A SHIP AND TO GO TO COURT.

May 6.-This being the last Pantheon, I put in my long intended
claim; and it was greatly facilitated by the circumstance of a
new singer, Madame Benda, making her first appearance.  My
dearest father fetched me from the Queen's house.  Esther and
Marianne kept me places between them.  Marianne never looked so
pretty; I saw not a face there I thought equally lovely.  And,
oh, how Pacchierotti sung!--How -with what exquisite feeling,
what penetrating pathos! I could almost have cried the whole
time, that this one short song was all I should be able to hear !

At the beginning of the second act I was obliged to decamp.
James, who had just found me out, was my esquire.  "Well," he
cried, in our way to the chair, "will there be war with Spain?"
I assured him I thought not.

"So I am afraid!" answered the true English tar.  " "However, if
there is, I should be glad of a frigate of thirty-two guns.  Now,
if you ask for it, don't say a frigate, and get me one of
twenty-eight!"

Good heaven!--poor innocent James!--

And just as I reached the chair--"But how shall you feel," he
cried, "when I ask you to desire a guard-ship for me, in about
two years' time?"


I could make no precise answer to that!  He then added that he
intended coming to Court!  Very much frightened, I besought him
first to come and drink tea with me--which he promised.

In my way home, as I went ruminating upon this apparently but
just, though really impracticable demand, I weighed well certain
thoughts long revolving, and of late nearly bursting forth and
the result was this--to try all, while yet there is time.
Reproach else may aver, when too late, greater courage Would
have had greater success.  This idea settled my resolutions, and
they all bent to one point, risking all risks.


Page 357
 May 10.-This evening, by appointment came our good James and his
wife, and soon afterwards, to my great pleasure, Captain Phillips
joined us.  I take it, therefore, for granted, he will have told
all that passed in the business way.  I was very anxious to
gather more intelligibly the wishes and requests of poor James,
and to put a stop to his coming to Court without taking such
previous steps as are customary.  I prevailed, and promised, in
return, to make known his pretensions.

You may believe, my dear friends, this promise was the result of
the same wish of experiment, and sense of claim upon me of my
family to make it while I may, that I have mentioned.  I did--
this very evening.  I did it gaily, and in relating such
anecdotes as were amusingly characteristic of a sailor's honest
but singular notions of things: yet I have done it completely;
his wishes and his claims are now laid open--Heaven knows to what
effect!  The Court scheme I have also told; and my royal mistress
very graciously informed me, that if presented by some superior
officer there could be no objection; but otherwise, unless he had
some promotion, it was not quite usual.



                      CAPTAIN BURNEY AND MR. WINDHAM.

May 11.-This morning my royal mistress had previously arranged
for me that I should go to the trial, and had given me a ticket
for my little Sarah(331) to accompany me; and late last night, I
believe after twelve o'clock, she most graciously gave me another
for James.  just at this time she could not more have gratified
me than by a condescension to my dear brother.  Poor Columb was
sent with the intelligence, and directions for our meeting at
seven o'clock this morning, to Norton-street.

Sarah came early; but James was so late we were obliged to leave
word for him to follow us.  He did,--two hours afterwards! by way
of being our esquire; and then told me he knew it would be in
good time, and so he had stopped to breakfast at Sir Joseph
Banks's.  I suppose the truth is, it saved him a fresh puff of
powder for some other day.

We talked over all affairs, naval and national, very comfortably.
The trial is my only place for long dialogues!  I gave him a new
and earnest charge that he would not speak home concerning the
prosecution to Mr. Winndham, should he join

358

us.  He made me a less reluctant promise than heretofore, for
when last with Charlotte at Aylsham he had frequently visited Mr.
Windham, and had several battles at draughts or backgammon with
him; and there is no Such good security against giving offence as
seeing ourselves that our opponents are worth pleasing.  Here,
too, as I told James, however we might think all the managers in
the wrong, they were at least open enemies, and acting a public
part, and therefore they must fight it Out, as he would do with
the Spaniards, if, after all negotiation, they came to battle.

He allowed this; and promised to leave him to the attacks of the
little privateer, without falling foul of him with a broadside.

Soon after the trial began Mr. Windham came up to us, and after a
few minutes' chat with me addressed himself to James about the
approaching war.  "Are you preparing," he cried, "for a
campaign?"

"Not such one," cried James, "as we had last summer at Aylsham!"

"But what officers you are!" he cried, "you men of Captain Cook;
you rise upon us in every trial!  This Captain Bligh,--what
feats, what wonders he has performed!  What difficulties got
through!  What dangers defied!  And with such cool, manly skill!"

They talked the narrative over as far as Mr. Windham had in
Manuscript seen its sketch; but as I had not read it, I could not
enter into its detail.


                   MR. WINDHAM SPEAKS ON A LEGAL POINT.

Mr. Windham took his seat by my elbow, and renewed one of his old
style of conversations about the trial ; each of us firmly
maintaining our original ground.  I believe he has now
relinquished his expectation of making me a convert.  He
surprised me soon by saying, "I begin to fear, after all, that
what you have been talking about to me will come to pass."

I found he meant his own speaking upon a new charge, which, when
I last saw him, he exultingly told me was given up.  He explained
the apparent inconsistency by telling me that some new change of
plan had taken place, and that Mr. Burke was extremely urgent
with him to open the next charge: "And I cannot," he cried
emphatically, "leave Burke in the lurch!"  I both believed and
applauded him so far; but why


)Page 59
are either of them engaged in a prosecution so uncoloured by
necessity?

One chance he had still of escaping this tremendous task, he told
me, which was that it might devolve upon Grey but Burke, he did
not disavow, wished it to be himself.  "However," he laughingly
added, "I think we may toss up In that case, how I wish he may
lose! not only from believing him the abler enemy, but to reserve
his name from amongst the active list in such a cause.

He bewailed,---with an arch look that showed his consciousness I
should like the lamentation,--that he was now all unprepared,--
all fresh to begin in documents and materials, the charge being
wholly new and unexpected, and that which he had considered
relinquished.

"I am glad, however," cried I, "your original charge is given up;
for I well remember what you said of it."

"I might be flattered," cried he, "and enough, that you should
remember anything I say--did I not know it was only for the sake
of its subject,"--looking down upon Mr. Hastings.

I could not possibly deny this but added that I recollected he
had acknowledged his charge was to prove Mr. Hastings mean,
pitiful, little, and fraudulent."

The trial this day consisted almost wholly in dispute upon
evidence - the managers offered such as the counsel held
improper, and the judges and lords at last adjourned to debate
the matter in their own chamber.  Mr. Burke made a very fine
speech upon the rights of the prosecutor to bring forward his
accusation, for the benefit of justice, in such mode as appeared
most consonant to his own reason and the nature of things,
according to their varying appearances as fresh and fresh matter
Occurred.

The counsel justly alleged the hardship to the client, if thus
liable to new allegations and suggestions, for which he came
unprepared, from a reliance that those publicly given were all
against which he need arm himself, and that, if those were
disproved, he was cleared; while the desultory and shifting
charges of the managers put him out in every method of defence,
by making it impossible to him to discern where he might be
attacked.

In the course of this debate I observed Mr. Windham so agitated
and so deeply attentive, that it prepared me for what soon
followed : he mounted the rostrum-for the third time only since
this trial commenced.


Page 360

His speech was only to a point Of law respecting evidence he kept
close to his subject, with a clearness and perspicuity very
uncommon indeed amongst these orators.  His voice, however, is
greatly in his disfavour ; for he forces it so violently, either
from earnestness or a fear of not being heard, that, though it
answered the purpose of giving the most perfect distinctness to
what he uttered, its sound had an unpleasing and crude quality
that amazed and disappointed me.  The command of his language and
fluency of his delivery, joined to the compact style of his
reasoning and conciseness of his arguments, were all that could
answer my expectations: but his manner--whether from energy or
secret terror--lost all its grace, and by no means seemed to
belong to the elegant and high-bred character that had just
quitted me.

In brief,--how it may happen I know not,--but he certainly does
not do justice to his own powers and talents in public.  He was
excessively agitated: when he had done and dismounted, I saw his
pale face of the most fiery red.  Yet he had uttered nothing in a
passion.  It must have been simply from internal effort.

The counsel answered him, and he mounted to reply.  Here, indeed,
he did himself honour; his readiness of answer, the vivacity of
his objections, and the instantaneous command of all his
reasoning faculties, were truly striking.  Had what he said not
fallen in reply to a speech but that moment made, I must have
concluded it the result Of Study, and all harangue learnt by
heart.   He was heard with the most marked attention.

The second speech, like the first, was wholly upon the laws of
evidence, and Mr. Hastings was not named in either.  He is
certainly practising against his great day.  And, in truth, I
hold still to my fear of it; for, however little his manner in
public speaking may keep pace with its promise in private
conversation, his matter was tremendously pointed and severe.

The trial of the day concluded by an adjournment to consult upon
the evidence in debate, with the judges, in the House of Lords.

Mr. Windham came up to the seats of the Commons in my
neighbourhood, but not to me; he spoke to the Misses
Francis,--daughters of Mr. Hastings's worst foe,--and hurried
down.

On my return I was called upon to give an account of the


Page 361
trial to their majesties and the princesses, and a formidable
business, I assure you, to perform.


                          AN EMPHATIC PERORATION.

May 18.-This morning I again went to the trial of poor Mr.
Hastings.  Heavens! who can see him sit there unmoved? not even
those who think him guilty,--if they are human.

I took with me Mrs. Bogle.  She had long since begged a ticket
for her husband, which I could never before Procure.  We now went
all three.  And, indeed, her original speeches and remarks made a
great part of my entertainment.

Mr. Hastings and his counsel were this day most victorious.  I
never saw the prosecutors so dismayed.  Yet both Mr. Burke and
Mr. Fox spoke, and before the conclusion so did Mr. Windham.
They were all in evident embarrassment.  Mr. Hastings's counsel
finished the day, with a most noble appeal to justice and
innocence, protesting that, if his client did not fairly claim
the one, by proving the other, he wished himself that the
prosecutors-that the lords--that the nation at large--that the
hand of God--might fall heavy upon him!

This had a great and sudden effect,-- not a word was uttered.
The prosecutors looked dismayed and astonished ; and the day
closed.

Mr. Windham came up to speak to Misses Francis about a dinner:
but he only, bowed to me, and with a look so conscious---so much
saying, "'TiS your turn to triumph now!: that I had not the spite
to attack him.

But when the counsel had uttered this animated speech, Mrs. Bogle
was so much struck, she hastily arose, and, clapping her hands,
called out audibly, in a broad Scotch accent, "O, charming!"  I
could hardly, quiet her till I assured her we should make a
paragraph for the newspapers.  I had the pleasure to deliver this
myself to their majesties, and the princesses--and as I was
called upon while it was fresh in my memory, I believe but little
of the general energy was forgotten.

It gave me great pleasure to repeat so striking an affirmation of
the innocence of so high, so injured I believe, a character.  The
queen eagerly declared I should go again the next sitting.

Wednesday, May 19.--The real birthday of my royal mistress, to
whom may Heaven grant many, many and prosperous!  Dressing, and
so forth, filled up all the morning


Page 362

and at night I had a t`ete-`a-t`ete with Charles, till twelve.  I
got to bed about five in the morning.  The sweet princesses had a
ball, and I could not lament my fatigue.


                   AN APTITUDE FOR LOGIC AND FOR GREEK.

May 20.-To-day again to the trial, to which I took MISS Young,
her majesty having given me two tickets very late overnight.
Miss Young is singularly, as far as I can see, the reverse of her
eccentric parents she is moderation personified.

Mr. Windham again spoke in the course of this morning's business,
which was chiefly occupied in debating on the admissibility of
the evidence brought forward by the prosecutors.  The quickness
and aptness of his arguments, with the admirable facility and
address with which he seized upon those of his opponents, the
counsel, were strong marks of that high and penetrating capacity
so strikingly his characteristic.  The only defect in his
speaking is the tone of his voice, which, from exertion, loses
all its powers of modulation, and has a crude accent and
expression very disagreeable.

During the examination of Mr. Anderson, one of Mr. Hastings's
best friends,--a sensible, well-bred, and gentlemanlike man,--Mr.
Windham came up to my elbow.

"And can this man," cried he, presently, "this man--so
gentle---be guilty?"

I accused him of making a point to destroy all admiration of
gentleness in my opinion.  "But you are grown very good now!" I
added, "No, very bad I mean!"  He knew I meant for speaking ; and
I then gave him burlesqued, various definitions of good, which
had fallen from Mr. Fox in my hearing, the most contradictory,
and, taken out of their place, the most ridiculous imaginable.

He laughed very much, but seriously confessed that technical
terms and explanations had better have been wholly avoided by
them all, as the counsel were sure to out-technicalise them, and
they were then exposed to greater embarrassments than by steering
clear of the attempt, and resting only upon their common forces.

"There is one praise," I cried, "which I am always sure to meet
in the newspapers whenever I meet with your name; and I begin to
quite tire of seeing it for you,-your skill in logic!"


Page 363

"O, I thank you," he cried, earnestly "I am indeed quite ashamed
of the incessant misappropriation of that word."

"No, no," cried I; "I only tire of it because they seem to think,
when once the word logic and your name are combined, they have
completely stated all.  However, in what little I have heard, I
could have suspected you to have been prepared with a speech
ready written, had I not myself heard just before all the
arguments which it answered."

I then added that I was the less surprise(! at this facility of
language, from having heard my brother declare he knew no man who
read Greek with that extraordinary rapidity--no, not Dr. Parr,
nor any of the professed Grecians, whose peculiar study it had
been through life.

This could be nothing, he said, but partiality.

"Not mine, at least," cried I, laughing, "for Greek excellence is
rather Out Of my sphere of panegyric!"

"
Well," cried he, laughing too at my disclaiming, "'Tis' your
brother's partiality.  However, 'tis one I must try not to lose.
I must take to my Greek exercises again."

They will do you a world of good, thought I, if they take you but
from your prosecution-exercises.


                       MORE TALK WITH MR. WINDHAM.

We then talked of Mr. Burke.  "How finely," I cried, "he has
spoken! with what fullness of intelligence, and what fervour!"
He agreed, with delighted concurrence.  "Yet,--so much so long!"
I added.


"True!"  cried he, ingenuously, yet concerned.  "What pity he can
never stop!"

And then I enumerated some of the diffuse and unnecessary
paragraphs which had weakened his cause, as well as his speech.

He was perfectly candid, though always with some reluctance.
"But a man who speaks in public," he said, "should never forget
what will do for his auditors: for himself alone, it is not
enough to think ; but for what is fitted, and likely to be
interesting to them."

"He wants nothing," cried I, "but a flapper."


"Yes, and he takes flapping inimitably."

"You, then," I cried, "should be his flapper."

"And sometimes," said he, smiling, "I am."

"O, I often see," said I, "of what use you are to him.  I


Page 364

see you watching him,--reminding, checking him in turn,--at
least, I fancy all this as I look into the managers' box, which
is no small amusement to me,--when there is any commotion there!"

He bowed; but I never diminished from the frank unfriendliness to
the cause with which I began.  But I assured him I saw but too
well how important and useful he was to them, even without
speaking.

"Perhaps," cried he, laughing, "more than with speaking."

"I am not meaning to talk Of that now," said I, "but yet, one
thing I will tell you: I hear you more distinctly than any one;
the rest I as often miss as catch, except when they turn this
way,--a favour Which you never did me!"

"No, no, indeed!" cried he; "to abstract myself from all, is all
that enables me to get on."  And then, with his native candour,
he cast aside prejudice, and very liberally praised several
points in this poor persecuted great man.

I had seen, I said, an initiation from Horace, which had
manifested, I presumed, his scholarship."

"O, ay," cried he, "an Ode to Mr. Shore, who is one of the next
witnesses.  Burke was going to allude to it, but I begged him
not.  I do not like to make their lordships smile in this grave
business."

"That is so right!: cried I: "Ah, you know it IS you and your
attack I have feared most all along!"

"This flattery"--cried he.

"Do not use that word any more, Mr. Windham," interrupted I; "if
you do, I shall be tempted to make a very shocking speech to
you--the very reverse of flattery, I assure you."  He stared,--
and I went on.  "I shall say,--that those who think themselves
flattered--flatter themselves.!"

"What?--hey?--How?" cried he.

"Nay, they cannot conclude themselves flattered, without
concluding they have de quoi to make it worth while!"

"Why, there--there may be something In that but not here!--no,
here it must flow simply front general benevolence,--from a wish
to give comfort or pleasure."

I disclaimed all and turned his attention again to Mr. Hastings.
"See!" I cried, "see but how thin--how ill--looks that poor
little uncle of yours!"(332)  Again I upbraided him with being
unnatural; and lamented Mr. Hastings's

Page 365

change since I had known him in former days.  "And shall I tell
you," I added, "something in which you had nearly been involved
with him?"

"Me?--with Mr. Hastings?"

"Yes ! and I regret it did not happen ! You may recollect my
mentioning my original acquaintance with him, before I lived
where I now do."                                      '

"Yes, but where you now....I understand you,--expect ere long you
may see him!"

He meant from his acquittal, and reception at the Queen's house.
And I would not contradict him.

But, however," I continued, "my acquaintance and regard began
very fairly while I lived at home at my father's and indeed I
regret you could not then and so have known him, as I am
satisfied you would have been pleased with him, which now you
cannot judge.  He is so gentle-mannered, so intelligent, so
unassuming, yet so full-minded."

I have Understood that," he answered; "yet 'tis amazing how
little unison there may be between mariners and characters, and
how softly gentle a man may appear without, whose nature within
is all ferocity and cruelty.  This is a part of mankind of which
you cannot judge--of which, indeed, you can scarce form an idea."

After a few comments I continued what I had to say, which, in
fact, was nothing but another malice of my own against him.  I
reminded him of one day in a former year of this trial, when I
had the happiness of sitting at it with my dearest Mrs. Locke, in
which he had been so obliging, with reiterated offers, as to
propose seeing for my servant, etc.-" "Well," I continued, "I was
afterwards extremely sorry I had not accepted your kindness; for
just as we were going away, who should be passing, and turn back
to speak to me, but Mr. Hastings!"
'O!' he cried, 'I must come here to see you, I find!'  Now, had
you but been with me at that moment! I own it would have been the
greatest pleasure to me to have brought you together though I am
quite at a loss to know whether I ought, in that case, to have
presented you to each other."

He laughed most heartily,-half, probably, with joy at his escape;
but he had all his wits about him in his answer.  "If you," he
cried, "had been between US, we might, for once, have coalesced--
in both bowing to the same shrine!"

(322) Wednesday, November 18.-ED.

(323) Covent Garden.-ED.

(324) A comedy by Reynolds, originally produced at Covent Garden,
May 15, 1789.-ED.

(325) Sir Robert Gunning, the bride's father.-ED.

(326) Fanny refers to Burke's attitude during the Regency
debates, in which, as a member of the opposition, he had
supported Mr. Fox.-ED,

(327) "A Narrative of the mutiny on board his majesty's ship
Bounty; and the subsequent Voyage of part of the Crew, in the
ship's boat, from Tofoa, one of the Friendly Islands, to Timor, a
Dutch settlement in the East Indies.  Written by Lieutenant
William Bligh."  London, 1790.  Lieutenant (afterwards Admiral)
Bligh was appointed to the command of the Bounty in August, 1787.
He sailed from England in December, and arrived at Otaheite,
October 26, 1788, the object of his voyage being to transplant
the bread fruit tree from the South Sea Islands to the British
colonies in the West Indies, with a view to its acclimatisation
there.  A delay of more than five months at Otaheite demoralized
the crew, to whom the dolce far mente of life in a Pacific
island, and the Charms of the Otaheitan women, offered greater
attractions than the toils of sea-faring under a somewhat
tyrannical captain.  The Bounty left Otaheite April 4, 1789, and
on the 28th of the same month a mutiny broke out under the
leadership of the mater's mate, Fletcher Christian.  Captain
Bligh and eighteen of his men were set adrift in the ship's boat,
in which they sailed for nearly three months, undergoing terrible
privations, and reaching the Dutch settlement at Timor, an island
off the east coast of Java, June 14.  Bligh arrived in England,
March 14, 1790.  The mutineers finally settled in Pitcairn's
island, where their descendants are still living.-ED.

(328) See note ante 263, p. 102.-ED.

(329) Mrs. Piozzi's youngest daughter, who had accompanied her
mother and step-father abroad.-ED. 2 It appears from a note in
(330) It appears from a note in the "Memoirs of Dr. Burney" (vol.
iii. p. 199), that Fanny had once before met Mrs Piozzi since her
marriage, at an assembly at Mrs. Locke's.  This meeting must have
taken place Soon after the marriage, as Mrs. Piozzi went abroad
              with her husband shortly afterwards.-ED.

(331) Fanny's half-sister.-ED.

(332) An allusion to the personal resemblance between Windham and
Hastings.  See ante, p. 149.-ED.



Page 366
                                SECTION 17.
                                 (1790-1)


                  MISS BURNEY RESIGNS HER PLACE AT COURT.


[The following section concludes the story of Fanny's life at
Court.  Her entire unfitness for the position which she there
occupied had been, from the commencement, no secret to herself;
but her tenderness for her father had determined her to endure to
the utmost before resigning a place to which her appointment had
been to him, in his short-sighted folly, a source of such extreme
gratification.  But now she could endure no longer.  The
occasional relief which she had found in the society of Mrs.
Delany and Colonel Digby had been brought to an end by the death
of the one and the marriage of the other ; her spirits were
broken, her state of health was becoming daily more alarming and
she at last summoned up courage to consult her father on the
subject, and to make known to him her desire of resigning.  Blind
as he had shown himself to the true interests of his daughter,
Dr. Burney was still the most affectionate of parents.  He heard
Fanny's complaint with grief and disappointment, but with instant
acquiescence in her wishes.  His consent to her plan being
obtained, Fanny for some months took no further steps in the
matter.  She was willing to remain at her post so long as she was
capable, with whatever difficulty, of supporting its fatigues.
But her health failed more and more, and the memorial was at last
(December, 1790) presented to the queen.  Even yet the day of
release was far distant.  The "sweet queen" was in no hurry to
part with so faithful a servant, and although she had accepted
the resignation, she did not conceal her displeasure at being
reminded of it.  Meanwhile the unfortunate victim of royal
selfishness was growing daily weaker.  Her friends were seriously
alarmed: even her fellow-slaves at Court commiserated her, and
urged her retirement.  A successor was at length appointed, and
on the 7th of July, 1791, Fanny found herself once more free.


Page 367

During the interval which elapsed between the consultation with
Dr. Burney and the presentation of the memorial, an incident
occurred which occasioned to Fanny much distress and not a little
annoyance.  Her own narrative of the affair we have not thought
it necessary to include in our selection from the "Diary," but
here a few words on the subject may be not unacceptable.  Fanny's
man-servant, a Swiss named Jacob Columb, had fallen dangerously
ill in the summer of 1790, and was sent, in August, to St.
George's Hospital.  He was much attached to his mistress, who, he
said, had treated him with greater kindness than father, mother,
or any of his relatives, and on leaving Windsor he begged her to
hold in trust for him the little money in his possession,
amounting to ten guineas.  She offered him a receipt for the
money, but he refused it, and when she insisted, exclaimed, "No,
ma'am, I won't take it!  You know what it is, and I know what it
is; and if I live I'm sure you won't wrong me: and if I don't,
nobody else sha'n't have it!"  Moved to tears by the poor
fellow's earnestness, Fanny complied with his request.  In the
following month he died at the hospital, desiring, in his last
moments, to leave everything to his sisters in Switzerland.  "He
certainly meant," writes Fanny, "everything of his wearing
apparel, watches, etc., for what money he had left in my hands he
would never tell anybody." She was preparing, accordingly, to
transmit Columb's effects, including, of course, the ten guineas,
to Switzerland, when a claimant appeared in the person of Peter
Bayond, a countryman of the deceased.  This man produced a will,
purporting to be Columb's, by which the property was left to be
divided between Bayond himself and James Columb, a cousin of the
pretended testator, then in service with Horace Walpole.  Fanny's
instant conviction was that the will was a forgery, and the
appearance and behaviour of Bayond confirmed her in this belief.
James Columb, moreover, concurred in her opinion, and she had
decided to ignore this new claim, when she received an attorney's
letter, desiring her to pay to Bayond the sum in her hands of the
late Jacob Columb.  She then wrote to Walpole, who offered her
his assistance, with many expressions of warm regard.  But
finally, after much trouble, and threats of a lawsuit, she was
advised that her best plan would be to let the will take its
course, and to pay over to the claimant the sum in question ; and
thus the matter was settled, "in a manner," she writes, "the most
mortifying to Mr. Walpole and myself."-ED.)


Page 368

               A MELANCHOLY CONFESSION.

 May 25.-The Princess Augusta condescended to bring me a most
gracious message from the king, desiring to know if I wished to
go to Handel's Commemoration, and if I should like the "Messiah,"
or prefer any other day?

With my humble acknowledgments for his goodness, I fixed
instantly on the "Messiah" and the very amiable princess came
smiling back to     me, bringing me my ticket from the king.
This would not, indeed, much have availed me, but that I
fortunately knew my dear father meant to go to the Abbey.  I
despatched Columb to Chelsea, and he promised to call for me the
next morning.

My "Visions" I had meant to produce in a few days; and to know
their chance before I left town for the summer.(333) But I
thought the present opportunity not to be slighted, for some
little opening, that might lighten the task of the exordium upon
the day of attempt.  He was all himself--all his native self-
-kind, gay, open, and full fraught with converse.

Chance favoured me: we found so little room, that we were fain to
accept two vacant places at once, though they separated us from
my uncle, Mr. Burney, and his brother James, who were all there,
and all meant to be of the same party.

I might not, at another time, have rejoiced in this disunion, but
it was now most opportune: it gave me three hours' conference
with my dearest father--the only conference of that length I have
had in four years.

Fortune again was kind ; for my father began relating various
anecdotes of attacks made upon him for procuring to sundry
strangers some acquaintance with his daughter,(334) particularly
with the Duchesse de Biron, and the Mesdames de Boufflers(335) to
whom he answered, he had no power; but was somewhat

Page 369

struck by the question of Madame de B.  in return, who exclaimed,
"Mais, monsieur, est-ce possible! Mademoiselle votre fille n'a-t-
elle point de vacance?"(336)

This led to much interesting discussion, and to many confessions
and explanations on my part, never made before; which induced him
to enter more fully into the whole of the situation, and its
circumstances, than he had ever yet had the leisure or the
spirits to do; and he repeated sundry speeches of discontent at
my seclusion from the world.

All this encouraged me to much detail: I spoke my high and
constant veneration for my royal mistress, her merits, her
virtues, her condescension, and her even peculiar kindness
towards me.  But I owned the species of life distasteful to me; I
was lost to all private comfort, dead to all domestic endearment;
I was worn with want of rest, and fatigued with laborious
watchfulness and attendance.  My time was devoted to official
duties; and all that in life was dearest to me--my friends, my
chosen society, my best affections--lived now in my mind only by
recollection, and rested upon that with nothing but bitter
regret.  With relations the most deservedly dear, with friends of
almost unequalled goodness, I lived like an orphan-like one who
had no natural ties, and must make her way as she could by those
that were factitious.  Melancholy was the existence where
happiness was excluded, though not a complaint could be made!
where the illustrious personages who were served possessed almost
all human excellence, yet where those who were their servants,
though treated with the most benevolent condescension, could
never, in any part of the live-long day, command liberty, or
social intercourse, or repose.

The silence of my dearest father now silencing myself, I turned
to look at him; but how was I struck to see his honoured head
bowed down almost into his bosom with dejection and discomfort!--
we were both perfectly still a few moments; but when he raised
his head I could hardly keep my seat, to see his eyes filled with
tears!--"I have long," he cried, "been uneasy, though I have not
spoken; but if you wish to resign, my house, my purse, my arms,
shall be open to receive you, back;"

Page 370

The emotion of my whole heart at this speech-this sweet, this
generous speech--O my dear friends, I need not say it

We were mutually forced to break up Our conference.  I could only
instantly accept his paternal offer, and tell him it was my
guardian angel, it was Providence in its own benignity, that
inspired him with such goodness.  I begged him to love the day in
which he had given me such comfort, and assured him it would rest
upon my heart with grateful pleasure till it ceased to beat.

He promised to drink tea with me before I left town, and settle
all our proceedings.  I acknowledged my intention to have
ventured to solicit this very permission of resigning.- "But I,"
cried he, smiling with the sweetest kindness, "have spoken first
myself."

What a joy to me, what a relief, this very circumstance! it will
always lighten any evil that may, unhappily, follow this proposed
step.


              CAPTAIN BURNEY's LACONIC LETTER AND INTERVIEW.


June.-I went again to the trial of poor Mr. Hastings : Mrs. Ord
received from me my companion ticket, kindly giving up the Duke
of Newcastle's box to indulge me with her company.

But I must mention an extraordinary circumstance that happened in
the last week.  I received in a parcel--No, I will recite it you
as I told it to Mr. Windham, who, fortunately, saw and came up to
me--fortunately, I say, as the business of the day was very
unedifying, and as Mrs. Ord much wished to hear some of his
conversation.

He inquired kindly about James and his affairs, and if he had yet
a ship; and, to let him see a person might reside in a Court, and
yet have no undue influence, I related his proceedings with Lord
Chatham, and his laconic letter and interview.  The first running
thus:--

"My Lord,--I should be glad of an audience; if your Lordship will
be so good to appoint a time, I will wait upon you.  I am, my
Lord, your humble servant,
"James Burney."

"And pray," quoth I to James, when he told me this, "did you not
say the honour of an audience?"


Page 371
"No," answered he, "I was civil enough without that; I said, If
you will be so good--that was very civil--and honour is quite
left off now."

How comic! to run away proudly from forms and etiquettes, and
then pretend it was only to be more in the last mode.  Mr.
Windham enjoyed this characteristic trait very much; and he likes
James so well that he deserved it, as well as the interview which
ensued.

"How do you do, Captain Burney?"

"My lord, I should be glad to be employed."

" You must be sensible, Captain Burney, we have many claimants
just now, and more than it is possible to satisfy immediately."

"I am very sensible of that, my lord; but, at the same time, I
wish to let your lordship know what I should like to have--a
frigate of thirty-two guns."

"I am very glad to know what you wish, sir."

He took out his pocket-book, made a memorandum, and wished James
a good morning.

Whether or not it occurred to Mr. Windham, while I told this,
that there seemed a shorter way to Lord Chatham, and one more in
his own style, I know not: he was too delicate to let such a hint
escape, and I would not for the world intrust him with my
applications and disappointments.


                 BURKE'S SPEECH ON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.

But I have found," cried I afterwards, "another newspaper praise
for you now, 'Mr. Windham, with his usual vein of irony."'

"O, yes," cried he, "I saw that!  But what can it mean?--I use no
'vein of irony;'--I dislike it, except for peculiar purposes,
keenly handled, and soon passed over."

" Yet this is the favourite panegyric you receive continually,--
this, or logic, always attends your name in the newspapers."

"But do I use it?"

"Nay, not to me, I own.  As a manner, I never found it out, at
least.  However, I am less averse now than formerly to the other
panegyric--close logic,--for I own the more frequently I come
hither the more convinced I find myself that that is no character
of commendation to be given universally."


He could say nothing to this; and really the dilatory,

Page 372

desultory style of these prosecutors in general deserved a much
deeper censure.

"If a little closeness of logic and reasoning were observed by
one I look at now, what a man would he be, and who could compare
with him!"  Mr. Burke you are sure was here my object; and his
entire, though silent and unwilling, assent was obvious.

"What a speech," I continued, "has he lately made!(337)  how
noble, how energetic, how enlarged throughout!"

"O," cried he, very unaffectedly, "upon the French Revolution?"

"Yes; and any party might have been proud of it, for liberality,
for feeling, for all in one--genius.  I, who am only a reader of
detached speeches, have read none I have thought its equal."

"Yet, such as you have seen it, it does not do him justice.  I
was not in the House that day ; but I am assured the actual
speech, as he spoke it at the moment, was highly superior to what
has since been printed.  There was in it a force--there were
shades of reflection so fine--allusions so quick and so happy--
and strokes of satire and observation so pointed and so apt,--
that it had ten times more brilliancy when absolutely extempore
than when transmitted to paper."

"Wonderful, wonderful! He is a truly wonderful creature!"  And,
alas, thought I, as wonderful in inconsistency as in greatness!

In the course of a discussion more detailed upon faculties, I
ventured to tell him what impression they had made upon James,
who was with me during one of the early long speeches.  "I was
listening," I said, " with the most fer-

Page 373

vent attention to such strokes of eloquence as, while I heard
them, carried all before them, when my brother pulled me by the
sleeve to exclaim, 'When will he come to the point?"'

The justness, notwithstanding his characteristic conciseness, of
this criticism, I was glad thus to convey.  Mr. Windham however,
would not subscribe to it; but, with a significant smile, coolly
said, "Yes, 'tis curious to hear a man of war's ideas of
rhetoric."

"Well," quoth I, to make a little amends, "shall I tell you a
compliment he paid you?"


"Me?"

"Yes.  'He speaks to the purpose,' he cried."



                            AN AWKWARD MEETING.

Some time after, with a sudden recollection, he eagerly
exclaimed, "O, I knew I had something I wished to tell you!  I
was the other day at a place to see Stuart's Athenian
architecture, and whom do you think I met in the room?"

I could not guess.

"Nay, 'tis precisely what you will like--Mr. Hastings!"

"Indeed!" cried I, laughing; "I must own I am extremely glad to
hear it.  I only wish you could both meet without either knowing
the other."

"Well, we behaved extremely well, I assure you ; and looked each
as if we had never seen one another before.  I determined to let
you know it." . . .


                       A NEW VISIT FROM MRS. FAIRLY.

The day after the birthday I had again a visit from Mrs. Fairly.
I was in the midst of packing, and breakfasting, and confusion -
for we left town immediately, to return no more till next year,
except to St. James's for the Drawing-room.  However, I made her
as welcome as I was able, and she was more soft and ingratiating
in her manners than I ever before observed her.  I apologised two
or three times for not waiting upon her, representing my confined
abilities for visiting.


                ONE TRAGEDY FINISHED AND ANOTHER COMMENCED.

August.-As I have only my almanac memorandums for this month, I
shall hasten immediately to what I think my dear partial
lecturers will find most to their taste in the course of it.


Page 374

Know then, fair ladies, about the middle of this August, 17 90,
the author finished the rough first draft and copy of her first
tragedy.  What species of a composition it may prove she is very
unable to tell; she only knows it was an almost spontaneous work,
and soothed the melancholy of imagination for a while, though
afterwards it impressed it with a secret sensation of horror, so
like real woe, that she believes it contributed to the injury her
sleep received about this period.

Nevertheless, whether well or ill, she is pleased to have done
something at last, she had so long lived in all ways as nothing.

You will smile, however, at my next trust; but scarce was this
completed,-as to design and scenery I mean, for the whole is in
its first rough state, and legible only to herself,- scarce,
however, had this done with imagination, to be consigned over to
correction, when imagination seized upon another subject for
another tragedy.

The first therefore I have deposited in my strong-box, in all its
imperfections, to attend to the other; I well know correction may
always be summoned, Imagination never will come but by choice.  I
received her, therefore, a welcome guest,--the best adapted for
softening weary solitude, where only coveted to avoid irksome
exertion.


                    MISS BURNEY's RESIGNATION MEMORIAL.

October.-I now drew up my memorial, or rather, showed it to my
dearest father.  He so much approved it, that he told me he would
not have a comma of it altered.  I will copy it for you.  It is
as respectful and as grateful as I had words at command to make
it, and expressive of strong devotion and attachment; but it
fairly and firmly states that my strength is inadequate to the
duties of my charge, and, therefore, that I humbly crave
permission to resign it and retire into domestic life.  It was
written in my father's name and my own.  I had now that dear
father's desire to present it upon the first auspicious moment:
and O! with what a mixture of impatience and dread unspeakable
did I look forward to such an opportunity!

The war was still undecided : still I inclined to wait its issue,
as I perpetually brought in my wishes for poor James, though
without avail.  Major Garth, our last equerry, was raised to a
high post in the West Indies, and the rank of colonel, I
recommended James to his notice and regard if


Page 375
they met; and a promise most readily and pleasantly made to seek
him out and present him to his brother, the general, if they ever
served in the same district, was all, I think, that my Court
residence obtained for my marine department of interest!

Meanwhile, one morning at Kew, Miss Cambridge was so much alarmed
at my declining state of health that she would take no denial to
my seeing and consulting Mr. Dundas.  He ordered me the bark, and
it strengthened me so much for awhile, that I was too much
recruited for presenting my sick memorial, which I therefore cast
aside.

Mrs. Ord spent near a week at Windsor in the beginning of this
month.  I was ill, however, the whole time, and suffered so much
from my official duties, that my good Mrs. Ord, day after day,
evidently lost something more and more of her partiality to my
station, from witnessing fatigues of which she had formed no
idea, and difficulties and disagreeabilities in carrying on a
week's intercourse, even with so respectable a friend, which I
believe she had thought impossible.

Two or three times she burst forth into ejaculations strongly
expressive of fears for my health and sorrow at its exhausting
calls.  I could not but be relieved in my own mind that this
much-valued, most maternal friend should thus receive a
conviction beyond all powers of representation, that my place was
of a sort to require a strength foreign to my make.

She left me in great and visible uneasiness, and wrote to me
continually for bills of health, I never yet so much loved her,
for, kind as I have always found her, I never yet saw in her so
much true tenderness.


                          MR. WINDHAM INTERVENES.

In this month, also, I first heard of the zealous exertions and
chivalrous intentions of Mr. Windham.  Charles told me they never
met without his demounting the whole thunders of his oratory
against the confinement by which he thought my health injured;
with his opinion that it must be counteracted speedily by
elopement, no other way seeming effectual.

But with Charlotte he came more home to the point.  Their
vicinity in Norfolk occasions their meeting, though very seldom
at the house of Mr. Francis, who resents his prosecution of Mr.
Hastings, and never returns his visits; but at assemblies at
Aylsham and at Lord Buckingham's dinners they are certain of now
and then encountering.


Page 376

This summer, when Mr. Windham went to Felbrig, his Norfolk seat,
they soon met at an assembly, and he immediately opened upon his
disapprobation of her sister's monastic life, adding, "I do not
venture to speak thus freely upon this subject to everybody, but
to you I think I may; at least, I hope it."

Poor dear Charlotte was too full-hearted for disguise, and they
presently entered into a confidential cabal, that made her quite
disturbed and provoked when hurried away.  From this time,
whenever they met, they were pretty much of a mind.  "I cannot
see you," he always cried, "without recurring to that painful
subject--your sister's situation."  He then broke forth in an
animated offer of his own services to induce Dr. Burney to finish
such a captivity, if he could flatter himself he might have any
influence.

Charlotte eagerly promised him the greatest, and he gave her his
promise to go to work.

O What a noble Quixote! How much I feel obliged to him!  How
happy, when I may thank him!

He then pondered upon ways and means.  He had already sounded my
father: "but it is resolution," he added, "not inclination, Dr.
Burney wants."  After some further reflection, he then fixed upon
a plan : "I will set the Literary Club(338) upon him!" he cried:
"Miss Burney has some very true admirers there, and I am sure
they will all eagerly assist.  We will present him a petition--an
address."

Much more passed: Mr. Windham expressed a degree of interest and
kindness so cordial, that Charlotte says she quite longed to
shake hands with him; and if any success ever accrues, she
certainly must do it.

Frightened, however, after she returned home, she feared our
dearest father might unfairly be overpowered, and frankly wrote
him a recital of the whole, counselling him to see Mr. Windham in
private before a meeting at the club should take place.


                  AN AMUSING INTERVIEW WITH MR. BOSWELL.

And now for a scene a little surprising.

The beautiful chapel of St. George, repaired and finished by the
best artists at an immense expense, which was now opened after a
very long shutting up for its preparations, brought in-

Page 377

numerable strangers to Windsor, and, among others, Mr. Boswell.

This I heard, in my way to the chapel, from Mr. Turbulent, who
overtook me, and mentioned having met Mr. Boswell at the Bishop
of Carlisle's the evening, before.  He proposed bringing him to
call upon me; but this I declined, certain how little
satisfaction would be given here by the entrance of a man so
famous for compiling anecdotes.  But yet I really wished to see
him again, for old acquaintance sake, and unavoidable amusement
from his oddity and good humour, as well as respect for the
object of his constant admiration, my revered Dr. Johnson.  I
therefore told Mr. Turbulent I should be extremely glad to speak
with him after the service was over.

Accordingly, at the gate of the choir, Mr. Turbulent brought him
to me.  We saluted With mutual glee: his comic-serious face and
manner have lost nothing of their wonted singularity nor yet have
his mind and language, as you will soon confess.

"I am extremely glad to see you indeed," he cried, "but very
sorry to see you here.  My dear ma'am, why do you stay ?--it
won't do, ma'am!  You must resign!--we can put up with it no
longer.  I told my good host the bishop so last night; we are all
grown quite outrageous!"

Whether I laughed the most, or stared the most, I am at a loss to
say, but i hurried away from the cathedral, not to have such
treasonable declarations overheard, for We Were surrounded by a
multitude.

He accompanied me, however, not losing one moment in continuing
his exhortations: "If you do not quit, ma'am, very soon, some
violent measures, I assure you, will be taken.  We shall address
Dr. Burney in a body; I am ready to make the harangue myself.  We
shall fall upon him all at once."

I stopped him to inquire about Sir Joshua; he said he saw him
very often, and that his spirits were very good.  I asked about
Mr. Burke's book.(339)  "O," cried he "it Will come Out next
week: 'tis the first book in the World, except my own, and that's
coming out also very soon; only I want your help."

"My help?"

"Yes, madam,--you must give me some of your choice little notes
of the doctor's; we have seen him long enough upon

 Page 378

stilts; I want to show him in a new light.  Grave Sam, and great
Sam, and solemn Sam, and learned Sam,--all these he has appeared
over and over.  Now I want to entwine a wreath of the graces
across his brow; I want to show him as gay Sam, agreeable Sam,
pleasant Sam; so you must help me with some
of his beautiful billets to yourself."

I evaded this by declaring I had not any stores at hand.  He
proposed a thousand curious expedients to get at them, but I was
invincible.

Then I was hurrying on, lest I should be too late.  He followed
eagerly, and again exclaimed, "But, ma'am, as I tell you, this
won't do; you must resign off hand!  Why, I would farm you out
myself for double, treble the money! I wish I had the regulation
of such a farm,--yet I am no farmer-general.  But I should like
to farm you, and so I will tell Dr. Burney.  I mean to address
him; I have a speech ready for the first opportunity."

He then told me his " Life of Dr. Johnson " was nearly printed,
and took a proof-sheet out of his pocket to show me; with crowds
passing and repassing, knowing me well, and staring well at him:
for we were now at the iron rails of the Queen's lodge.


I stopped; I could not ask him in : I saw he expected it, and was
reduced to apologise, and tell him I must attend the queen
immediately.

He uttered again stronger and stronger exhortations for my
retreat, accompanied by expressions which I was obliged to check
in their bud.  But finding he had no chance for entering, he
stopped me again at the gate, and said he would read me a part of
his work.

There was no refusing this: and he began with a letter of Dr.
Johnson's to himself.  He read it in strong imitation of the
doctor's manner, very well, and not caricature.  But Mrs.
Schwellenberg was at her window, a crowd was gathering to stand
round the rails, and the king and queen and royal family now
approached from the Terrace.  I made a rather quick apology, and,
with a step as quick as my now weakened limbs have left in my
power, I hurried to my apartment.

You may suppose I had inquiries enough, from all around, of "Who
was the gentleman I was talking to at the rails? And an
injunction rather frank not to admit him beyond those limits.

However, I saw him again the next morning, in coming

Page 379

from early prayers, and he again renewed his remonstrances, and
his petition for my letters of Dr. Johnson.  I cannot consent to
print private letters, even of a man so justly celebrated, when
addressed to myself: no, I shall hold sacred those revered and
but too scarce testimonies of the high honour his kindness
conferred upon me.  One letter I have from him that is a
masterpiece of elegance and kindness united.  'Twas his last,


                       ILL, UNSETTLED, AND UNHAPPY.

November.-This month will be very brief of annals; I was so ill,
so unsettled, so unhappy during every day, that I kept not a
memorandum.  All the short benefit I had received from the bark
was now at an end : languor, feverish nights, and restless days
were incessant.  My memorial was always in my mind ; my courage
never rose to bringing it from my letter-case.  Yet the war was
over, the hope of a ship for my brother demolished, and my health
required a change of life equally with my spirits and my
happiness.

The queen was all graciousness; and her favour and confidence and
smiles redoubled my difficulties.  I saw she had no suspicion but
that I was hers for life ; and, unimportant as I felt myself to
her, in any comparison with those for whom I quitted her, I yet
knew not how to give her the unpleasant surprise of a resignation
for which I saw her wholly unprepared. .

It is true, my depression of spirits and extreme alteration of
person might have operated as a preface; for I saw no one, except
my royal mistress and Mrs. Schwellenberg, who noticed not the
change, or who failed to pity and question me upon my health and
my fatigues; but as they alone saw it not, or mentioned it not,
that afforded me no resource.  And thus, with daily intention to
present my petition and conclude this struggle, night always
returned with the effort unmade, and the watchful morning arose
fresh to new purposes that seemed only formed for demolition.
And the month expired as it began, with a desire the most
strenuous of liberty and peace, combated by reluctance
unconquerable to give pain, displeasure, or distress to my very
gracious royal mistress.

December.-My loss of health was now so notorious, that no part of
the house could wholly avoid acknowledging it; yet was the
terrible picquet the catastrophe of every evening,


Page 380

though frequent pains in my side forced me, three or four times
in a game, to creep to my own room for hartshorn and for rest.
And so weak and faint I was become, that I was compelled to put
my head out into the air, at all hours, and in all weathers, from
time to time, to recover the power of breathing, which seemed not
seldom almost withdrawn.

Her majesty was very kind during this time, and the princesses
interested themselves about me with a sweetness very grateful to
me; indeed, the whole household showed compassion and regard, and
a general opinion that I was falling into a decline ran through
the establishment. . . .  Thus there seemed about my little
person a universal commotion ; and it spread much farther,
amongst those I have never or slightly mentioned.  There seemed,
indeed, but one opinion, that resignation of place or of life was
the only remaining alternative.

There seemed now no time to be lost - when I saw my dear father
he recommended to me to be speedy,, and my mother was very kind
in urgency for immediate measures.  I could
not, however, summon courage to present my memorial; my heart
always failed me, from seeing the queen's entire freedom from
such an expectation: for though I was frequently so ill in her
presence that I could hardly stand, I saw she concluded me, while
life remained, inevitably hers.


               A MEDICAL OPINION ON MISS BURNEY'S CONDITION.

Finding my inability unconquerable, I at length determined upon
consulting Mr. Francis.  I wrote to Charlotte a faithful and
Minute account of myself', with all my attacks--cough, pain In
the side, weakness, sleeplessness, etc.,--at full length, and
begged Mr. Francis's opinion how I must proceed.  Very kindly he
wrote directly to my father, exhorting instantaneous resignation,
as all that stood before me to avert some dangerous malady.

The dear Charlotte at the same time wrote to me conjuring my
prompt retreat with the most affecting earnestness.

The uneasiness that preyed upon my spirits in a task so difficult
to perform for myself, joined to my daily declension in health,
was now so apparent, that, though I could go no farther, I paved
the way for an opening, by owning to the queen that Mr. Francis
had been consulted upon my health.

The queen now frequently inquired concerning his answer;


Page 381

but as I knew he had written to my father, I deferred giving the
result till I had had a final conference with that dear parent.
I told her majesty my father Would show me the letter when I saw
him.  This I saw raised for the first time a surmise that
something was in agitation, though I am certain the suspicion did
not exceed an expectation that leave would be requested for a
short absence to recruit.

My dearest father, all kindness and goodness, yet all alarm,
thought time could never be more favourable; and when next I saw
him at Chelsea, I wrote a second memorial to enclose the original
one.  With a beating heart, and every pulse throbbing, I returned
thus armed to the Queen's house.

Mrs. Schwellenberg sent for me to her room.  I could hardly
articulate a word to her.  My agitation was so great that I was
compelled to acknowledge something very awful was impending in my
affairs, and to beg she would make no present inquiries.  I had
not meant to employ her in the business, nor to name it to her,
but I was too much disturbed for concealment or evasion.  She
seemed really sorry, and behaved with a humanity I had not had
much reason to expect.

I spent a terrible time till I went to the queen at night,
spiriting myself up for my task, and yet finding apprehension
gain ground every moment.  Mrs. Schwellenberg had already been
some time with her majesty when I was summoned.  I am sure she
had already mentioned the little she had gathered.  I could
hardly perform my customary offices from excess of trepidation.
The queen looked at me with the most inquisitive solicitude.
When left with her a moment I tried vainly to make an opening: I
could not.  She was too much impressed herself by my manner to
wait long.  She soon inquired what answer had arrived from Mr.
Francis?

That he could not, I said, prescribe at a distance.

I hoped this would be understood, and said no more.  The queen
looked much perplexed, but made no answer.


                MISS BURNEY BREAKS THE MATTER TO THE QUEEN.

The next morning      I was half dead with real illness,
excessive nervousness, and    the struggle of what I had to force
myself to perform.  The queen again was struck with my
appearance, which I believe    indeed to have been shocking.
When I was alone with her, she began upon Mr. Francis with more
inquiry.  I then tried to articulate that I had something of

Page 382

deep consequence to myself to lay before her majesty; but that I
was so unequal in my weakened state to speak it, that I had
ventured to commit it to Writing, and entreated Permission to
produce it.

She could hardly hear me, yet understood enough to give immediate
consent.

I then begged to know if I might present it -myself, or whether I
should give it to Mrs. Schwellenberg.

"O, to me! to me!" she cried, with kind eagerness.  She added,
however, not then; as she was going to breakfast.

This done was already some relief, terrible as was all that
remained; but I now knew I must go on, and that all my fears and
horrors were powerless to stop me.

This was a Drawing-room day.  I saw the king at St. James's, and
he made the most gracious inquiries about my health: so did each
of the princesses.  I found they were now all aware of its
failure.  The queen proposed to me to see Dr. Gisburne: the king
seconded the proposition.  There was no refusing; yet, just now,
it was distressing to comply.

The next morning, Friday, when again I was alone with the queen,
she named the subject, and told me she would rather I should give
the paper to the Schwellenberg, who had been lamenting to her my
want of confidence in her, and saying I confided and told
everything to the queen.  "I answered," continued her majesty,
"that you were always very good; but that, with regard to
confiding, you seemed so happy with all your family, and to live
so well together, that there was nothing to say."

I now perceived Mrs. Schwellenberg suspected some dissension at
home was the cause of my depression.  I was sorry not to deliver
my memorial to the Principal person, and yet glad to have it to
do where I felt so much less compunction in giving pain.


                    THE MEMORIAL AND EXPLANATORY NOTE.

I now desired an audience of Mrs. Schwellenberg.  With what
trembling agitation did I deliver her my paper, requesting her to
have the goodness to lay it at the feet of the queen before her
majesty left town ! We were then to set out for Windsor before
twelve o'clock.  Mrs. Schwellenberg herself remained in town.

Here let me copy the memorial.


Page 383


Most humbly presented to Her Majesty.

"Madam,
"With the deepest sense of your Majesty's goodness and
condescension, amounting even to sweetness--to kindness who can
wonder I should never have been able to say what I know not how
to write--that I find my strength and health unequal to my duty?

"Satisfied that I have regularly been spared and favoured by your
Majesty's humane consideration to the utmost, I could never bring
myself to the painful confession of my secret disquietude ; but I
have long felt creeping upon me a languor, a feebleness, that
makes, at times, the most common attendance a degree of capital
pain to me, and an exertion that I could scarce have made, but
for the revived alacrity with which your Majesty's constant
graciousness has inspired me, and would still, I believe, inspire
me, even to my latest hour, while in your Majesty's immediate
presence.  I kept this to myself while I thought it might wear
away,-or, at least, I only communicated it to obtain some medical
advice: but the weakness, though it comes only in fits, has of
late so much Increased, that I have hardly known how, many days,
to keep myself about--or to rise up in the morning, or to stay up
at night.

"At length, however, as my constitution itself seems slowly, yet
surely, giving way, my father became alarmed.

"I must not enter, here, upon his mortification and
disappointment: the health and preservation of his daughter could
alone be more precious to him than your Majesty's protection.

"With my own feelings upon the subject it would ill become me to
detain your Majesty, and the less, as I am fully sensible my
place, in point of its real business, may easily he far better
supplied;--In point of sincere devotion to your majesty, I do not
so readily yield.  I can only, therefore, most humbly entreat
that your Majesty will deign to accept from my father and myself
the most dutiful acknowledgments for the uniform benignity so
graciously shown to me during the whole of my attendance.  My
father had originally been apprehensive of my inability, with
regard to strength, for sustaining any but the indulgence of a
domestic life : but your Majesty's justice and liberality will
make every allowance for the flattered feelings of a parent's
heart, which could not endure, untried, to relinquish for his
daughter so high an honour as a personal office about your
Majesty.


Page 384

I dare not, Madam, presume to hope that Your Majesty's
condescension will reach to the smallest degree of concern at
parting with me; but permit me, Madam, humbly, earnestly, and
fervently, to solicit that I may not be deprived of the mental
benevolence of your Majesty, which so thankfully I have
experienced, and so gratefully must for ever remember.

That every blessing, every good, may light upon your Majesties
here, and await a future and happier period hereafter, will be
always amongst the first prayers of,

"Madam, your Majesty's ever devoted, ever grateful, most
attached, and most dutiful subject and servant,
"Frances Burney."

With this, though written so long ago, I only wrote an
explanatory note to accompany it, which I will also copy:--

"Madam,
"May I yet humbly presume to entreat your Majesty's patience for
a few added lines, to say that the address which I now most
respectfully lay at your Majesty's feet was drawn up two months
ago, when first I felt so extreme a weakness as to
render the smallest exertion a fatigue?  While I waited, however,
for firmness to present it, I took the bark, and found myself,
for some time, so much amended, that I put it aside, and my
father, perceiving me better, lost his anxious uneasiness for my
trying a new mode of life.  But the good effect has, of late, so
wholly failed, that an entire change of air and manner of living
are strongly recommended as the best chance for restoring my
shattered health.  We hold it, therefore, a point of that
grateful duty we owe to your Majesty's goodness and graciousness,
to make this melancholy statement at once, rather than to stay
till absolute incapacity might disable me from offering one small
but sincere tribute of profound respect to your Majesty,--the
only one in my power--that of continuing the high honour of
attending your Majesty, till your Majesty's own choice, time, and
convenience nominate a successor."


                  THE KEEPER OF THE ROBES' CONSTERNATION.

Mrs. Schwellenberg took the memorial, and promised me her
services, but desired to know its contents.  I begged vainly to
be excused speaking them.  She persisted, and I then was
compelled to own they contained my resignation.

How aghast she looked!--how inflamed with wrath!--how

Page 385


Petrified with astonishment!  It was truly a dreadful moment to
me.  She expostulated on such a step, as if it led to destruction
: she offered to save me from it, as if the peace of my life
depended on averting it and she menaced me with its bad
consequences, as it life itself, removed from these walls, would
become an evil.

I plainly recapitulated the suffering state in which I had lived
for the last three months; the difficulty with which I had waded
through even the most common fatigues of the day; the constraint
of attendance, however honourable, to an invalid; and the
impracticability of pursuing such a life, when thus enfeebled,
with the smallest chance of ever recovering the health and
strength which it had demolished.

To all this she began a vehement eulogium on the superior
happiness and blessing of my lot, while under such a protection ;
and angrily exhorted me not to forfeit what I could never regain.

I then frankly begged her to forbear SO painful a discussion, and
told her that the memorial was from my father as well as
myself--that I had no right or authority to hesitate in
delivering it--that the queen herself was prepared to expect it
-and that I had promised my father not to go again to Windsor
till it was presented.  I entreated her, therefore, to have the
goodness to show it at once.

This was unanswerable, and she left me with the paper in her
hand, slowly conveying it to its place of destination.

just as she was gone, I was called to Dr. Gisburne or, rather,
without being called, I found him in my room, as I returned to
it.

Think If my mind, now, wanted not medicine the most I told him,
however, my corporeal complaints and he ordered me opium and
three glasses of wine in the day, and recommended rest to me, and
an application to retire to my friends for some weeks, as freedom
from anxiety was as necessary to my restoration as freedom from
attendance.


                      LEAVE OF ABSENCE IS SUGGESTED.

During this consultation I was called to Mrs. Schwellenberg.  Do
you think I breathed as I went along?--No!  She received me,
nevertheless, with complacency and smiles; she began a laboured
panegyric of her own friendly zeal and goodness, and then said
she had a proposal to make to me, which she con-

Page 386

sidered as the most fortunate turn my affairs could take, and a,,
a proof that I should find her the best friend I had in the
world.  She then premised that she had shown the paper,--that the
queen had read it, and said it was very modest, and nothing
improper.

Her proposal was, that I should have leave of absence for six
weeks, to go about and change the air, to Chelsea, and Norbury
Park, and Capitan Phillips, and Mr. Francis, and Mr. Cambrick,
which would get me quite well; and, during that time, she would
engage Mlle. Montmoulin to perform my office.

I was much disturbed at this; and though rejoiced and relieved to
understand that the queen had read my memorial without
displeasure, I was grieved to see it was not regarded as final.
I only replied I would communicate her plan to my father.  Soon
after this we set out for Windsor.

Here the first presenting myself before the queen was a task the
heaviest, if possible, of any.  Yet I was ill enough, heaven
knows, to carry the apology of my retreat in my countenance.
However, it was a terrible effort.  I could hardly enter her
room.  She spoke at once, and with infinite softness, asking me
how I did after my journey ? "Not well, indeed," I simply
answered.  "But better?" she cried; "are you not a little
better?"

I only shook my head; I believe the rest of my frame shook
without my aid.

"What! not a little?--not a little bit better?" she cried, in the
most soothing voice.

"To-day, ma'am," I said, "I did indeed not expect to be better."
I then muttered something indistinctly enough, of the pain I had
suffered in what I had done: she opened, however, upon another
subject immediately, and no more was said upon this.  But she was
kind, and sweet, and gentle, and all consideration with respect
to my attendance.

I wrote the proposal to my poor father, I received by return of
post, the most truly tender letter he ever wrote me.  He returns
thanks for the clemency With which my melancholy memorial has
been received, and is truly sensible of the high honour shown me
In the new proposition; but he sees my health so impaired, my
strength so decayed, my whole frame so nearly demolished, that he
apprehends anything short of a permanent resignation, that would
ensure lasting rest and recruit, might prove fatal.  He quotes a
letter from Mr. Francis,


Page 387

containing his opinion that I must even be speedy in my retiring
or risk the utmost danger - and he finishes a letter filled with
gratitude towards the queen and affection to his daughter, with
his decisive opinion that I cannot go on, and his prayers and
blessings on my retreat.

The term "speedy," in Mr. Francis's opinion, deterred me from
producing this letter, as it seemed indelicate and unfair to
hurry the queen, after offering her the fullest time.  I
therefore waited till Mrs. Schwellenberg came to Windsor before I
made any report of my answer.

A scene almost horrible ensued, when I told Cerbera the offer was
declined.  She was too much enraged for disguise, and uttered the
most furious expressions of indignant contempt at our
proceedings.  I am sure she would gladly have confined us both in
the Bastille, had England such a misery, as a fit place to bring
us to ourselves, from a daring so outrageous against imperial
wishes.

(Fanny Burney to Dr. Burney)
January, 1791-......I thank heaven, there was much softness in
the manner of naming you this morning.  I see no ill-will mixed
with the reluctance, which much consoles me.  I do what is
possible to avoid all discussion; I see its danger still so
glaring.  How could I resist, should the queen condescend to
desire, to ask, that I would yet try another year?--and another
year would but be uselessly demolishing me; for never could I
explain to her that a situation which unavoidably casts all my
leisure into the presence of Mrs. Schwellenberg must necessarily
be subversive of my health, because incompatible with my peace,
my ease, my freedom, my spirits, and my affections.

The queen is probably kept from any suspicion Of the true nature
of the case, by the praises of Mrs. Schwellenberg, who, with all
her asperity and persecution, is uncommonly partial to my
society; because, in order to relieve myself from sullen gloom,
or apparent dependency, I generally make my best exertions to
appear gay and chatty; for when I can do this, she forbears both
rudeness and imperiousness.  She then, I have reason to believe,
says to the queen, as I know She does to some others, "The Bernan
bin reely agribble"; and the queen, not knowing the incitement
that forces my elaborate and painful efforts, may suppose I am
lively at heart, when she hears I am so in discourse.  And there
is no developing this without giving the queen the severest
embarrassment as well as chagrin.


Page 388

I would not turn Informer for the world.  Mrs. Schwellenberg too,
with all her faults, is heart and soul devoted to her roil
mistress, with the truest faith and loyalty.  I hold, therefore,
silence on this subject to be a sacred duty.  To return to you,
my dearest padre, is the only road that has open for my return to
strength and comfort, bodily and mental.  I m inexpressibly
grateful to the queen, but I burn to be delivered from Mrs.
Schwellenberg, and I pine to be again in the arms of my padre.



                 A ROYAL GIFT TO THE MASTER OF THE HORSE.

What will you give me, fair ladies, for a copy of verse, written
between the Queen of Great Britain and your most small little
journalist?

The morning of the ball the queen sent for me, and said she had a
fine pair of old-fashioned gloves, white, with stiff tops and a
deep gold fringe, which she meant to send to her new master of
the horse, Lord Harcourt, who was to be at the dance, She wished
to convey them in a copy of verses, of which she had composed
three lines, but could not get on.  She told me her ideas, and I
had the honour to help her in the metre and now I have the honour
to copy them from her own royal hand:--

"TO THE EARL OF HARCOURT.

"Go, happy gloves, bedeck Earl Harcourt's hand,
And let him know they come from fairy-land,
Where ancient customs still retain their reign;
To modernize them all attempts were vain.
Go, cries Queen Mab, some noble owner seek,
Who has a proper taste for the antique."

Now, no criticising, fair ladies !-the assistant was neither
allowed a pen nor a moment, but called upon to help finish, as
she might have been to hand a fan.  The earl, you may suppose,
was sufficiently enchanted.


                        CONFERENCES WITH THE QUEEN.

April.-In the course of this month I had two conferences with my
royal mistress upon my resignation, in which I spoke with all
possible openness upon its necessity.  She condescended to speak
very honourably of my dear father to me,--and, in a long
discourse upon my altered health with Mrs. de


Page 389

Luc, she still further condescended to speak most graciously of
his daughter, saying in particular, these strong words, in answer
to something kind uttered by that good friend in my favour.  "O,
as to character, she is what we call in German 'true as gold'
and, in point of heart, there is not, all the world over, one
better"--and added something further upon sincerity very
forcibly.  This makes me very happy.

She deigned, also, in one of these conferences, to consult with
me openly upon my successor, stating her difficulties, and making
me enumerate various requisites.  It would be dangerous, she
said, to build upon meeting in England with one who would be
discreet in point of keeping off friends and acquaintances from
frequenting the palace; and she graciously implied much
commendation of my discretion, in her statement of what she
feared from a new person.

May.-As no notice whatever was taken, all this time, of my
successor, or my retirement, after very great harass of suspense,
and sundry attempts to conquer it, I had at length again a
conference with my royal mistress.  She was evidently displeased
at again being called upon, but I took the courage to openly
remind her that the birthday was her majesty's own time, and that
my father conceived it to be the period of my attendance by her
especial appointment.  And this was a truth which flashed its own
conviction on her recollection.  She paused, and then,
assentingly, said, "Certainly."  I then added, that as, after the
birthday, their majesties went to Windsor, and the early prayers
began immediately, I must needs confess I felt myself wholly
unequal to encountering the fatigue of rising for them in my
present weakened state.  She was now very gracious again,
conscious all this was fair and true.  She told me her own
embarrassments concerning the successor, spoke confidentially of
her reasons for not engaging an Englishwoman, and acknowledged a
person was fixed upon, though something yet remained unarranged.
She gave me, however, to understand that all would be expedited:
and foreign letters were despatched, I know, immediately.


MISS BURNEY DETERMINES ON SECLUSION.

>From Sunday, May 15 to May 22.-The trial of the poor persecuted
Mr.  Hastings being now again debating and arranging for
continuance, all our house, I found, expected me now to come
forth, and my royal mistress and Mrs. Schwellenberg

Page 390

thought I should find it irresistible.  indeed it nearly was so,
from my anxious interest in the approaching defence; but when I
considered the rumours likely to be raised after my retreat, by
those terrifying watchers of Court transactions who inform the
public of their conjectures, I dreaded the probable assertion
that I must needs be disgusted or discontented, for health could
not be the true motive of my resignation, since I was in public
just before it took place.  I feared, too, that even those who
promoted the enterprise might reproach me with my ability to do
what I wished.  These considerations determined me to run no
voluntary risks - especially as I should so ill know how to parry
Mr. Windham, should he now attack me upon a subject concerning
which he merits thanks so nobly, that I am satisfied my next
interview with him must draw them forth from me.  Justice,
satisfaction in his exertions, and gratitude for their spirited
willingness, all call upon me to give him that poor return.  The
danger of it, however, now, is too great to be tried, if
avoidable : and I had far rather avoid seeing him, than either
gratify myself by expressing my sense of his kindness, or
unjustly withhold from him what I think of it.

These considerations determined me upon relinquishing all public
places, and all private visits, for the present.

The trial, however, was delayed, and the Handelian Commemoration
came on.  My beloved Mr. and Mrs. Locke will have told my Susan
my difficulties in this business, and I will now tell all three
how they ended.

The queen, unexpectedly, having given me a ticket, and enjoined
me to go the first day, that I might have longer time to recruit
against the king's birthday, I became, as you will have heard,
much distressed what course to pursue.

I took the first moment I was alone with her majesty to express
my father's obligation to her for not suffering me to sit up on
her own birthday, in this week, and I besought her permission to
lay before her my father's motives for hitherto wishing me to
keep quiet this spring, as well as my own, adding I was sure her
majesty would benignly wish this business to be done as peaceably
and unobserved as possible.  She looked extremely earnest, and
bid me proceed.

I then briefly stated that whoever had the high honour of
belonging to their majesties were liable to comments upon all
their actions, that, if the comment was only founded in truth, we
had nothing to fear, but that, as the world was much less


Page 391

addicted to veracity, than to mischief, my father and myself had
an equal apprehension that, if I should now be seen in public so
quickly before the impending change, reports might be spread, as
soon as I went home, that it could not be for health I resigned.
She listened very attentively and graciously, and instantly,
acquiesced.

When the trial actually recommenced, the queen grew anxious for
my going to it : she condescended to intimate that my accounts of
it were the most faithful and satisfactory she received, and to
express much Ill-will to giving them up.  The motives I had
mentioned, however, were not merely personal she could not but
see any comments must involve more than myself, and therefore I
abided steadily by her first agreement to my absenting myself
from all public places, and only gently joined in her regret,
which I forcibly enough felt in this instance, Without venturing
any offer of relinquishing the prudential plan previously
arranged.  She gave me tickets for Charles for every day that the
hall was opened, and I collected what I could of information from
him for her satisfaction.


       THE HASTINGS TRIAL RESUMED: 'THE ACCUSED MAKES HIS
DEFENCE.

Queen's House, London, June.-the opening of this month her
majesty told me that the next day Mr. Hastings was to make his
defence, and warmly added, "I would give the world you could go
to it!"

This was an expression so unusual in animation, that I instantly
told her I would write to my father, who could not possibly, in
that case, hesitate.

"Surely," she cried, "you may wrap up, so as not to catch cold
that once?"

I told her majesty that, as my father had never thought going out
would be really prejudicial to my health, he had only wished to
have his motive laid fairly before her majesty, and then to leave
it to her own command.  Her majesty accepted this mode of
consent, and gave me tickets for Charles and Sarah to accompany
me, and gave leave and another ticket for Mr. de Luc to be of the
party.
Thursday, June 2.-I went once more to Westminster Hall.  Charles
and Sarah came not to their time, and I left directions and
tickets, and set off with only Mr. de Luc, to secure our

Page 392

own, and keep places for them.  The Hall was more crowded than on
any day since the trial commenced, except the first.  Peers,
commoners, and counsel, peeresses, commoneresses, and the
numerous indefinites crowded every part, with a just and fair
curiosity to hear one day's defence, after seventy-three of
accusation.

Unfortunately I sat too high up to hear the opening, and when,
afterwards, the departure of some of my obstacles removed me
lower, I was just behind some of those unfeeling enemies who have
not even the decorum due to themselves, of appearing to listen to
what is offered against their own side.  I could only make out
that this great and persecuted man upon a plan all his own, and
at a risk impossible to ascertain) was formally making his own
defence, not with retaliating declamation, but by a simple,
concise, and most interesting statement of facts, and of the
necessities accompanying them in the situation to which the House
then impeaching had five times called him.  He spoke with most
gentlemanly temper of his accusers, his provocation considered,
yet with a firmness of disdain of the injustice with which he had
been treated in return for his services, that was striking and
affecting, though unadorned and manly.

His spirit, however, and the injuries which raised it, rested not
quietly upon his particular accusers: he arraigned the late
minister, Lord North, of ingratitude and double-dealing, and the
present minister, Mr. Pitt, of unjustifiably and unworthily
forbearing to Sustain him.

Here Mr. Fox, artfully enough, interrupted to say the king's
ministers were not to be arraigned for what passed in the House
of Parliament.  Mr. Burke arose also' to enter his protest.

But Mr. Hastings then lost his patience and his temper: he would
not suffer the interruption; he had never, he said, interrupted
their long speeches; and when Mr. Burke again attempted to speak,
Mr. Hastings, in an impassioned but affecting manner, extended
his arms, and called out loudly, "I throw myself Upon the
protection of your lordships:--I am not used to public speaking,
and cannot answer them.  what I wish to submit to your lordships
I have committed to paper; but, if I am punished for what I say,
I must insist upon being heard--I call upon you, my lords, to
protect me from this violence!"

This animated appeal prevailed; the managers were silenced by an
almost universal cry of "Hear, hear, hear!" from the


Page 393

lords; and by Lord Kenyon, who represented the chancellor, and
said, "Mr. Hastings, proceed."

The angry orators, though with a very ill grace, were then
silenced.  They were little aware what a compliment this
intemperate eagerness was paying to Mr. Hastings, who for so many
long days manifested that fortitude against attack, and that
patience against abuse, which they could not muster, Without any
parallel in provocation, even for three short hours.  I rejoiced
with all my heart to find Mr. Windham was not in their box.  He
did not enter with them in procession, nor appear as a manager or
party concerned, further than as a member of the House of
Commons.  I could not distinguish him in so large a group, and he
either saw not, or knew not, me.

The conclusion of the defence I heard better, as Mr. Hastings
spoke considerably louder from this time; the spirit of
indignation animated his manner and gave strength to his voice.
You will have seen the chief parts of his discourse In the
newspapers and you cannot, I think, but grow more and more his
friend as you peruse it.  He called pathetically and solemnly for
instant judgment; but the Lords, after an adjournment decided to
hear his defence by evidence, and order, the next sessions.  How
grievous such continual delay to a man past sixty, and sighing
for such a length of time for redress from a prosecution as yet
unparalleled in our annals.

When it was over, Colonel Manners came round to speak to -me and
talk over the defence.  He is warmly for Mr. Hastings.  He
inquired about Windsor; I should have made him stare a little had
I told him I never expected to see him there again.


MR. WINDHAM IS CONGRATULATED ON HIS SILENCE.

When he came down-stairs into the large waiting-hall, Mr. de Luc
went in search of William and chairs.  Sally then immediately
discerned Mr. Windham with some ladies.  He looked at me without
at first knowing me. . . . Sarah whispered me Mr. Windham was
looking harder and harder; and presently he came up to me, and in
a tone of very deep concern, and with a look that fully concurred
with 'it, he said, "Do I see Miss Burney?"

I could not but feel the extent of the interrogation, and my
assent acknowledged my comprehension.

"Indeed," he cried, "I was going to make a speech--not Very
gallant!"


Page 394

,
"But it is what I should like better," I cried, " for it is kind
if you were going to say I look miserably ill, as that is but a
necessary consequence of feeling so,--and miserably ill enough I
have felt this long time past."

He would not allow quite that, he said; but I flew from the
subject, to tell him I had been made very happy by him.  HE gave
me one of his starts,--but immediately concluded it was by no
good, and therefore would not speak in inquiry.

"Why, I did not see you in the box," I cried, "and I had been
very much afraid I should have seen you there.  But now my fears
are completely over, and you have made me completely happy!"

He protested, with a comic but reproachful smile, he knew not how
to be glad, if it was still only in the support of a bad cause,
and if still I really supported it.  And then he added he had
gone amongst the House of Commons instead of joining the
managers, because that enabled him to give his place to a friend,
who was not a member.

"You must be sure," said I, "you would see me here to-day."

I had always threatened him with giving fairest play to the
defence, and always owned I had been most afraid Of his harangue;
therefore to find the charges end without his making it saved me
certainly a shake,--either for Mr. Hastings or himself,--for one
of them must thenceforth have fallen in my estimation.  I
believe, however, this was a rather delicate point, as he made me
no answer, but a grave smile; but I am sure he instantly
understood his relinquishing his intended charge was my subject
of exultation.  And, to make it plainer, I then added, "I am
really very generous to be thus made happy, considering how great
has been my curiosity."

"But, to have gratified that curiosity," cried he, "would have
been no very particular inducement with me; though I have no
right to take it for a compliment, as there are two species of
curiosity,--yours, therefore, you leave wholly ambiguous."

"O, I am content with that," cried I so long as I am gratified, I
give you leave to take it which way you please."

He murmured something I could not distinctly hear, of concern at
my continued opinion upon this subject; but I do not think, by
his manner, it much surprised him.

"You know," cried I, "why, as well as what, I feared--that fatal
candour, of which so long ago you warned me to beware.


Page 395

to the very last moment And, indeed, I was kept n alarm
for at every figure I saw start up, just now,--Mr. Fox, Mr.
Burke, Mr. Grey,--I concluded yours would be the next."

"You were prepared, then," cried he, with no little malice, "for
a voice issuing from a distant pew."(340)


                       Miss BURNEY MAKES HER REPORT.

When we came home I was immediately summoned to her majesty, to
whom I gave a full and fair account of all I had heard of the
defence; and it drew tears from her expressive eyes as I repeated
Mr. Hastings's own words, upon the hardship and injustice of the
treatment he had sustained.

Afterwards, at night, the king called upon me to repeat my
account and I was equally faithful, sparing nothing of what had
dropped from the persecuted defendant relative to his majesty's
ministers.  I thought official accounts might be less detailed
there than against the managers, who, as open enemies, excite not
so much my "high displeasure" as the friends of government, who
so insidiously elected and panegyrised him while they wanted his
assistance, and betrayed and deserted him when he was no longer
in a capacity to serve them.  Such, at least, is the light in
which the defence places them.

The king listened with much earnestness and a marked compassion.
He had already read the account sent him officially, but he was
as eager to hear all I could recollect, as if still uninformed of
what had passed.  The words may be given to the eye, but the
impression they make can only be conveyed by the ear; and I came
back so eagerly interested, that my memory was not more stored
with the very words than my voice with the intonations of all
that had passed.

With regard to My bearing this sole unofficial exertion since my
illness, I can only say the fatigue I felt bore not any parallel
with that of every Drawing--room day, because I was seated.


PRINCE WILLIAM INSISTS ON THE KING'S HEALTH BEING DRUNK.

June 4.-Let me now come to the 4th, the last birthday of the
good, gracious, benevolent king I shall ever, in all human
probability, pass under his royal roof.

Page 396

The thought was affecting to me, in defiance of MY volunteer
conduct, and I could scarce speak to the queen when I first went
to her, and wished to say something upon a day So interesting.
The king was most gracious and kind when he came into the state
dressing-room at St. James's, and particularly inquired about my
health and strength, and if they would befriend me for the day.
I longed again to tell him how hard I would work them, rather
than let them, on such a day, drive me from my office; but I
found it better suited me to be quiet; It was safer not to trust
to any expression of loyalty, with a mind so full, and on a day
so critical.

At dinner Mrs. Schwellenberg presided, attired magnificently.
Miss Goldsworthy, Mrs. Stainforth, Messrs. de Luc and Stanhope
dined with us; and, while we were still eating fruit, the Duke of
Clarence entered.  He was just risen from the king's table, and
waiting for his equipage to go home and prepare for the ball.  To
give you an idea of the energy of his royal highness's language,
I ought to set apart a "general objection to writing, or rather
intimating, certain forcible words, and beg leave to show you, in
genuine colours, a royal sailor.

We all rose, of course, upon his entrance, and the two gentlemen
placed themselves behind their chairs while the footmen left the
room ; but he ordered us all to sit down, and called the men back
to hand about some wine.  He was in exceeding high spirits and in
the utmost good humour.  He placed himself at the head of the
table, next Mrs. Schwellenberg, and looked remarkably well, gay,
and full of sport and mischief, yet clever withal as well as
comical.

"Well, this is the first day I have ever dined with the king at
St. James's on his birthday.  Pray, have you all drunk his
majesty's health?"

"No, your roy'l highness: your roy'l highness might make dem do
dat," said Mrs. Schwellenberg.

"O, by --- will I!  Here, you (to the footman), bring champagne!
I'll drink the king's health again, if I die for it Yet, I have
done pretty well already: so has the king, I promise you!  I
believe his majesty was never taken such good care of before.  We
have kept his spirits up, I promise you: we have enabled him to
go through his fatigues; and I should have done more still, but
for the ball and Mary--I have promised to dance with Mary!"

Princess Mary made her first appearance at Court to-day
She looked most interesting and unaffectedly lovely - she is a


Page 397,

Sweet creature, and perhaps, in point of beauty, the first of
this truly beautiful race, of which Princess Mary may be called
pendant to the Prince of Wales.

Champagne being now brought for the duke, he ordered it all
round.  When it came to me I whispered to Westerhaults to carry
it on: the duke slapped his hand violently on the table, and
called out, "O, by ----, you shall drink it!"

There was no resisting this.  We all stood up, and the duke
sonorously gave the royal toast.  "And now," cried he, making us
all sit down again, "where are my rascals of servants?  I sha'n't
be in time for the ball; besides, I've got a deuced tailor
waiting to fix on my epaulette!  Here, you, go and see for my
servants! d'ye hear?  Scamper off!"

Off ran William.

"Come, let's have the king's health again.  De Luc, drink it.
Here, champagne to De Luc!"

I wish you could have seen Mr. de Luc's mixed simper half
pleased, half alarmed.  However, the wine came and he drank it,
the duke taking a bumper for himself at the same time."

Poor Stanhope!"  cried he; "Stanhope shall have a glass too.
Here, champagne!  what are you all about? Why don't YOU give
champagne to poor Stanhope?"

Mr. Stanhope, with great pleasure, complied, and the
  duke again accompanied him.

"Come hither, do you hear?" cried the duke to the servants; and
on the approach, slow and submissive, of                 Mrs.
Stainforth's man, he hit him a violent slap on the back, calling
out, "Hang you! why don't you see for my rascals?"

Away flew the man, and then he called out to Westerhaults,
"Hark'ee! bring another glass of champagne to Mr. de Luc!"

Mr. de Luc knows these royal youths too well to venture at so
vain an experiment as disputing with them, so he only shrugged
his shoulders and drank the wine.  The duke did the same.

"And now, poor Stanhope," cried the duke,                 "give
another glass to poor Stanhope, d'ye hear?"

"Is not your royal highness afraid," cried Mr. Stanhope,
displaying the full circle of his borrowed teeth, "I shall be apt
to be rather up in the world, as the folks say, if I tope on at
this rate?"


"Not at all! you can't get drunk in a better cause,
I'd get


Page 398

drunk myself' if it was not for the ball.  Here, champagne!
another glass for the philosopher!  I keep sober for Mary."

"O, your royal highness cried Mr. de Luc, gaining courage as he
drank, "you will make me quite droll Of it if you make me go
on,--quite droll!"

"So much the better! so much the better! it will do you a
monstrous deal of good.  Here, another glass of- champagne for
the queen's philosopher!"

Mr. de Luc obeyed, and the duke then addressed Mrs.
Schwellenberg's George.  "Here! you! you! why, where is my
carriage? run and see, do you hear?"

Off hurried George, grinning irrepressibly.

"If it was not for that deuced tailor, I would not stir.  I shall
dine at the Queen's house on Monday, Miss Goldsworthy; I shall
come to dine with the princess royal.  I find she does not go to
Windsor with the queen."

The queen meant to spend one day at Windsor, on account of a
review which carried the king that way.

Some talk then ensued upon the duke's new carriage, which they
all agreed to be the most beautiful that day, at court.  I had
not seen it, which, to me, was some impediment against praising
it.


                            THE QUEEN's HEALTH.

He then said it was necessary to drink the queens health.  The
gentlemen here made no demur, though Mr. de Luc arched his
eyebrows in expressive fear of consequences.

"A bumper," cried the duke, "to the queen's gentleman-usher."

They all stood up and drank the queen's health.

"Here are three of us," cried the duke, "all belonging to the
queen: the queen's philosopher, the queen's gentlemanusher, and
the queen's son; but, thank heaven, I'm the nearest!"

"Sir," cried Mr. Stanhope, a little affronted, "I am not now the
queen's gentleman-usher; I am the queen's equerry, sir."

"A glass more of champagne here! What are you all so slow for?
Where are all my rascals gone? They've put me in one passion
already this morning.  Come, a glass of champagne for the queen's
gentleman-usher!" laughing heartily.

"No, sir," repeated Mr. Stanhope; "I am equerry, sir."

"And another glass to the queen's philosopher!"

Neither gentleman objected; but Mrs. Schwellenberg, who


Page 399
had sat laughing and happy all this time, now grew alarmed, and
said, "Your royal highness, I am afraid for the ball!"

"Hold your potato-jaw, my dear," cried the duke, patting her -
but, recollecting himself, he took her hand and pretty abruptly
kissed it, and then, flinging it away hastily, laughed aloud, and
called out, "There, that will make amends for anything, so now I
may say what I will.  So here! a glass of champagne for the
queen's philosopher and the queen's gentleman-usher!  Hang me if
it will not do them a monstrous deal of good!"

Here news was brought that the equipage was in order.  He started
up, calling out, "Now, then, for my deuced tailor."

"O, your royal highness,"  cried Mr. de Luc, in a tone of
expostulation, "now you have made us droll, you go!"

Off!  however, he went.  And is it not a curious scene? All my
amaze is, how any of their heads bore such libations.


                     THE PROCESSION TO THE BALL-ROOM:
                         ABSENCE OF THE PRINCES.

In the evening I had by no means strength to encounter the
ball-room.  I gave my tickets to Mrs.  and Miss Douglas.  Mrs.
Stainforth was dying to see the Princess Mary in her Court dress.
Mr. Stanhope offered to conduct her to a place of prospect.  She
went with him.  I thought this preferable to an unbroken evening
with my fair companion, and Mr. de Luc, thinking the same, we
both left Mrs. Schwellenberg to unattire, and followed.  But we
were rather in a scrape by trusting to Mr. Stanhope after all
this champagne: he had carried Mrs. Stainforth to the very door
of the ball-room, and there fixed her--in a place which the king,
queen, and suite must brush past in order to enter the ball-room.
I had followed, however, and the crowds of beef-eaters, officers,
and guards that lined all the state-rooms through which we
exhibited ourselves, prevented my retreating alone.  I stood,
therefore, next to Mrs. Stainforth, and saw the ceremony.

The passage was made so narrow by attendants, that they were all
forced to go one by one.  First, all the king's great
state-officers, amongst whom I recognised Lord Courtown, a
treasurer of the household; Lord Salisbury carried a candle!--
'tis an odd etiquette.--These being passed, came the king--he saw
us and laughed; then the queen's master of the horse, Lord
Harcourt, who did ditto; then some more.


Page 400

The vice-chamberlain carries the queen's candle, that she may
have the arm of the lord chamberlain to lean on; accordingly,
Lord Aylesbury, receiving that honour, now preceded the queen:
she looked amazed at sight of us.  The kind princesses one by one
acknowledged us.  I spoke to sweet Princess Mary, wishing her
royal highness joy: she looked in a delight and an alarm nearly
equal.  She was to dance her first minuet.  Then followed the
ladies of the bedchamber, and Lady Harcourt was particularly
civil.  Then the maids of honour, every one of whom knew and
spoke to us.  I peered vainly for the Duke of Clarence, but none
of the princes passed us.(341)  What a crowd brought up the rear!
I was vexed not to see the Prince of Wales.

Well, God bless the king! and many and many such days may he
know!

I was now so tired as to be eager to go back; but the queen's
philosopher, the good and most sober and temperate of men, was
really a little giddy with all his bumpers, and his eyes, which
were quite lustrous, could not fix any object steadily; while the
poor gentleman-usher--equerry, I mean--kept his Mouth so wide
open with one continued grin,-I suppose from the sparkling
beverage,--that I was every minute afraid its pearly ornaments,
which never fit their case, would have fallen at our feet.  Mrs.
Stainforth gave me a significant look of making the same
observation, and, catching me fast by the arm, said, "Come, Miss
Burney, let's you and I take care of one another"; and then she
safely toddled me back to Mrs. Schwellenberg, who greeted us with
saying, "Vell! bin you Much amused? Dat Prince Villiam--oders de
Duke de Clarrence--bin raelly ver merry--oders vat you call
tipsy!"


                        BOSWELL's LIFE OF JOHNSON.

Mr, Turbulent had been reading, like all the rest of the world,
Boswell's "Life of Dr. Johnson," and the preference there
expressed of Mrs. Lenox to all other females had filled

Page 401

him with astonishment, as he had never even heard her name.(342)

These occasional sallies of Dr. Johnson, uttered from local
causes and circumstances, but all retailed verbatim by Mr.
Boswell, are filling all sort of readers with amaze, except the
small part to whom Dr. Johnson was known, and who, by
acquaintance with the power of the moment over his unguarded
conversation, know how little of his solid opinion was- to be
gathered from his accidental assertions.

The king, who was now also reading this work, applied to me for
explanations without end.  Every night at his period he entered
the queen's dressing-room, and detained her majesty's proceedings
by a length of discourse with me upon this subject.  All that
flowed from himself was constantly full of the goodness and
benevolence of his character - and I was never so happy as in the
opportunity thus graciously given me of vindicating, in instances
almost innumerable, the serious principles and various
excellences of my revered Dr. Johnson from the clouds so
frequently involving and darkening them, in narrations so little
calculated for any readers who were strangers to his intrinsic
worth, and therefore worked upon and struck by what was faulty in
his temper and manners.

I regretted not having strength to read this work to her majesty
myself.  It was an honour I should else have certainly received
_; for so much wanted clearing! so little was understood!
However, the queen frequently condescended to read over passages
and anecdotes which perplexed or offended her; and there were
none I had not a fair power to soften or to justify.


                 THE CLOSE OF MISS BURNEY'S COURT DUTIES.

Her majesty, the day before we left Windsor, gave me to
understand my attendance Would be yet one more fortnight

Page 402

requisite, though no longer.  I heard this with a fearful
presentiment I should surely never go through another fortnight
in so weak and languishing and painful a state of health.
However, I could but accede, though I fear with no very Courtly
grace.  So melancholy indeed was the state of my mind, from the
weakness of my frame, that I was never alone but to form scenes
of "foreign woe," where my own disturbance did not occupy me
wholly.  I began--almost whether I would or not--another tragedy!
The other three all unfinished! not one read! and one of them,
indeed, only generally sketched as to plan and character.  But I
could go on With nothing; I could only suggest and invent.

The power of composition has to me indeed proved a
blessing!  When incapable of all else, that, unsolicited,
unthought of, has presented itself to my solitary leisure, and
beguiled me of myself, though it has not of late regaled me with
gayer associates.

July.-I come now to write the last week of my royal residence.
The queen honoured me with the most uniform graciousness, and
though, as the time of separation approached, her cordiality
rather diminished, and traces of internal displeasure appeared
sometimes, arising from an opinion I ought rather to have
struggled on, live or die, than to quit her, yet I am sure she
saw how poor was my own chance, except by a change in the mode of
life, and at least ceased to wonder, though she could not
approve.

The king was more Courteous, more communicative, more amiable, at
very meeting: and he condescended to hold me in conversation with
him by every opportunity, and with an air of such benevolence and
goodness, that I never felt such ease and pleasure in his notice
before.  He talked over all Mr. Boswell's book, and I related to
him sundry anecdotes of Dr. Johnson, all highly to his honour,
and such as I was eager to make known, He always heard me with
the utmost complacency and encouraged me to proceed in my
accounts by every mark of attention and interest.

He told me once, laughing heartily, that, having seen my name in
the index, he was eager to come to what was said of me, but which
he found so little, he was surprised and disappointed.

I ventured to assure him how much I had myself been rejoiced at
this very circumstance, and with what satisfaction had reflected
upon having very seldom met Mr. Boswell, as

I

Page 403

new there was no other security against all manner of risks in
his relations.

About this time Mr. Turbulent made me a visit at tea-time when
the gentlemen were at the Castle and the moment William left the
room he eagerly said, "Is this true, Miss Burney, that I hear?
Are we going to lose you?"

I was much surprised, but Could not deny the charge.  He, very
good-naturedly, declared himself much pleased at a release which
he protested he thought necessary to my life's preservation.  I
made him tell me the channel through which a business I had
guarded SO scrupulously Myself had reached him; but it Is too
full of windings for writing.

 With Mr. de Luc I was already in confidence upon my resignation,
and with the knowledge of the queen, as he had received the
intelligence from Germany, whence my successor was now arriving.
I then also begged the indulgence of writing to Mr. Smelt upon
the subject, which was accorded me.

My next attack was from Miss Planta.  She expressed herself in
the deepest concern at my retiring, though she not only
acknowledged its necessity, but confessed she had not thought I
could have performed my official duty even one year!  She broke
from me while we talked, leaving me abruptly in a violent passion
of tears.


                         MISS BURNEY'S SUCCESSOR.
A PENSION FROM THE QUEEN.

I had soon the pleasure to receive Mlle. jacobi.(343)  She
brought with her a young German, as her maid, who proved to be
her niece, but so poor she could not live when her aunt left
Germany!  Mr. Best, a messenger of the king's, brought her to
Windsor, and Mrs. Best, his wife, accompanied him.

I was extremely pleased with Mlle. Jacobi, who is tall, well
made, and nearly handsome, and of a humour so gay, an
understanding so lively, and manners so frank and ingenuous, that
I felt an immediate regard for her, and we grew mutual good
friends.  She is the daughter of a dignified clergyman of
Hanover, high in theological fame.

They all dined with me, - and, indeed, Mlle. Jacobi, wanting a
thousand informations in her new situation, which I was most
happy to give her, seldom quitted me an instant.

Tuesday morning I had a conversation, very long and very
affecting to me, with her majesty.  I cannot pretend to detail


Page 404

it.  I will only tell you she began by speaking of Mlle. Jacobi,
whom I had the satisfaction to praise, as far as had appeared,
very warmly and then she led me to talk at large upon the nature
and requisites and circumstances of the situation I was leaving.
I said whatever I could suggest that would tend to render my
Successor more comfortable, and had the great happiness to
represent with success the consolation and very innocent pleasure
she might reap from the society of the young relation she had
brought over, if she might be permitted to treat her at once as a
companion, and not as a servant.  This was heard with the most
humane complacency, and I had leave given me to forward the plan
in various ways.  She then conversed upon sundry Subjects, all of
them confidential in their nature, for near an hour; and then,
after a pause, said, "Do I owe you anything, my dear Miss
Burney?"

I acquainted her with a debt or two amounting to near seventy
pounds.  She said she would settle it in the afternoon, and then
paused again, after which, with a look full of benignity, she
very expressively said, "As I don't know your plan, or what you
propose, I cannot tell what Would make you comfortable, but you
know the size of my family."

I comprehended her, and was immediately interrupting her with
assurances of my freedom from all expectation or claim; but she
stopped me, saying, "You know what you now have from me:--the
half of that I mean to continue."

Amazed and almost overpowered by a munificence I had so little
expected or thought of, I poured forth the most earnest
disclaimings of such a mark of her graciousness, declaring I knew
too well her innumerable calls to be easy in receiving it and
much more I uttered to this purpose, with the unaffected warmth
that animated me at the moment.  She heard me almost silently;
but, in conclusion, Simply, yet strongly, said, "I shall
certainly do that"  with a stress on the that that seemed to
kindly mean she would rather have done more.

The conference was in this stage when the Princess Elizabeth came
into the room.  The queen then retired to the antechamber.  My
eyes being full, and my heart not very empty, I could not then
forbear saying to her royal highness how much the goodness of the
queen had penetrated me.  The sweet princess spoke feelings I
could not expect, by the immediate glistening of her soft eyes.
She condescended to express her concern At my retiring; but most
kindly added, "However,

Page 405

Miss Burney, go when you will, that you have this to comfort you,
your behaviour has been most perfectly honourable."



                              LEAVE-TAKINGS.

This, my last day at Windsor, was filled with nothing but
packing, leave-taking, bills-paying, and lessoning to Mlle.
Jacobi, who adhered to my side through everything, and always
with an interest that made its own way for her.  All the people I
had to Settle With poured forth for my better health good wishes
without end; but amongst the most unwilling for my retreat stood
poor Mrs.  Astley.(344)  Indeed she quite saddened me by her
sadness, and by the recollections of that sweet and angelic being
her mistress, who had so solaced my early days at that place.

Mr. Bryant, too, came this same morning; he had an audience of
the queen: he knew nothing previously of my design.  He seemed
thunderstruck.  "Bless me!" he cried, in his short and simple but
expressive manner, "so I shall never see you again, never have
the honour to dine in that apartment with you more!" etc.  I
would have kept him to dinner this last day, but he was not well,
and would not be persuaded.  He would not, however, bid me adieu,
but promised to endeavour to see me some time at Chelsea.

I had then a little note from Miss Gomme, desiring to see me in
the garden.  She had just gathered the news.  I do not believe
any one Was more disposed to be sorry, if the Sight and sense of
my illness had not checked her concern.  She highly approved the
step I was taking, and was most cordial and kind.  Miss Planta
came to tell me she must decline dining with me, as she felt she
should cry all dinner-time, in reflecting upon its being our last
meal together at Windsor, and this might affront Mlle. Jacobi.

The queen deigned to come once more to my apartment this
afternoon.  She brought me the debt.  It was a most mixed feeling
with which I now saw her.

In the evening came Madame de la Fite, I need not tell you, I
imagine, that her expressions were of "la plus vife douleur,";
yet she owned she could not wonder my father should try what
another life would do for me.  My dear Mrs. de Luc came next;
She, alone, knew of this while impending.  She rejoiced the time
of deliverance was arrived, for she had


Page 406

often feared I should outstay my strength, and sink while the
matter was arranging.  She rejoiced, however, with tears in her
kind eyes; and, indeed, I took leave of her With true regret.

It was nine o'clock before I could manage to go down the garden
to the lower Lodge, to pay my duty to the younger princesses,
whom I Could not else see at all, as they never go to town for
the Court-days.  I went first up-stairs to Gomme, and had the
mortification to learn that the sweet Princess Amelia was already
gone to bed.  This extremely grieved me.  When or how I may see
her lovely little highness more, Heaven only knows!  Miss Gomme
kindly accompanied me to Miss Goldsworthy's apartment, and
promised me a few more words before I set out the next morning.

I found Mrs. Cheveley, at whose door, and at Miss Neven, her
sister's, I had tapped and left my name, with Miss Goldsworthy
and Dr. Fisher: that pleasing and worthy man has just taken a
doctor's degree.  I waited with Miss Goldsworthy till the
princesses Mary and Sophia came from the upper Lodge, which is
when the king and queen go to supper.  Their royal highnesses,
were gracious even to kindness; they shook my hand again and
again, and wished me better health, and all happiness, with the
sweetest earnestness.  Princess Mary repeatedly desired to see me
whenever I came to the Queen's house, and condescended to make me
as repeatedly promise that I would not fail.  I was deeply
touched by their goodness, and by leaving them.

Wednesday.-In the morning Mrs.  Evans, the housekeeper, came to
take leave of me; and the housemaid of my apartment, who, poor
girl, cried bitterly that I was going to give place to a
foreigner, for Mrs. Schwellenberg's severity with servants has
made all Germans feared in the house.

O, but let me first mention that, when I came from the lower
Lodge, late as it was, I determined to see my old friends the
equerries, and not quit the place without bidding them adieu.  I
had never seen them since I had dared mention my designed
retreat.  I told William, therefore, to watch their return from
the castle, and to give my compliments to either Colonel Gwynn or
Colonel Goldsworthy, and an invitation to my apartment.

Colonel Goldsworthy came instantly.  I told him I could not think
of leaving Windsor without offering first my good

Page 407

wishes to all the household.  He said that, when my intended
departure had been published, he and all the gentlemen then with
him had declared it ought to have taken place six months ago.  He
was extremely courteous, and I begged him to bring to me, the
rest of his companions that were known to me.

He immediately fetched Colonel Gwynn, General Grenville, Colonel
Ramsden, and Colonel Manners.  This was the then party.  I told
him I sent to beg their blessing upon my departure.  They were
all much pleased, apparently, that I had not made my exit without
seeing them: they all agreed on the Urgency of the measure, and
we exchanged good wishes most cordially.

My Wednesday morning's attendance upon the queen was a melancholy
office.  Miss Goldsworthy as well as Miss Gomme came early to
take another farewell.  I had not time to make any visits in the
town, but left commissions with Mrs. de Luc and Madame de la
Fite.  Even Lady Charlotte Finch I could not Call upon, though
she had made me many kind visits since my illness.  I wrote to
her, however, by Miss Gomme, to thank her, and bid her adieu.


                             FAREWELL TO KEW.

Thursday, July 7.-This, my last day of office, was big and busy,-
-joyful, yet affecting to me in a high degree.

In the morning, before I left Kew, I had my last interview with
Mrs. Schwellenberg.  She was very kind in it, desiring to see me
whenever I could in town, during her residence at the Queen's
house, and to hear from me by letter meanwhile.  She then much
Surprised me by an offer of succeeding to her own place,--when it
was vacated either by her retiring or her death.  This was,
indeed, a mark of favour and confidence I had not expected.  I
declined, however, to enter upon the subject, as the manner in
which she opened it made it very solemn, and, to her, very
affecting.  She would take no leave of me, but wished me better
hastily, and saying we should soon meet, she hurried suddenly out
of the room.  Poor woman!  If her temper were not so irascible, I
really believe her heart would be by no means wanting in
kindness.

I then took leave of Mrs. Sandys, giving her a token of
remembrance in return for her constant good behaviour, and

Page 408
she showed marks of regard, and of even grief, I was sorry to
receive, as I could so little return.

But the tragedy of tragedies was parting with Goter;(345) that
poor girl did nothing but cry incessantly from the time she knew
of our separation.  I was very sorry to have no place to
recommend her to, though I believe she may rather benefit by a
vacation that carries her to her excellent father and Mother, who
teach her nothing but good.  I did what I could to soften the
blow, by every exertion in my power in all ways; for it was
impossible to be unmoved at her violence of sorrow.

I then took leave of Kew Palace--the same party again
accompanying me, for the last time, in a royal vehicle going by
the name of Miss Burney's coach.


                            THE FINAL PARTING.

I come now near the close of my Court career.

At St. James's all was graciousness; and my royal mistress gave
me to understand she would have me stay to assist at her toilet
after the Drawing-room; and much delighted me by desiring my
attendance on the Thursday fortnight, when she came again to
town.  This lightened the parting in the pleasantest manner
possible.  When the queen commanded me to follow her to her
closet I was, indeed, in much emotion; but I told her that, as
what had passed from Mrs. Schwellenberg in the morning had given
me to understand her majesty was fixed in her munificent
intention, notwithstanding- what I had most unaffectedly urged
against it--

"Certainly," she interrupted, "I shall certainly do it."

"Yet so little," I continued, "had I thought it right to dwell
upon such an expectation, that, in the belief your majesty would
yet take it into further consideration, I had not even written It
to my father."

"Your father," she again interrupted me, "has nothing to do with
it; it is solely from me to you."

"Let me then humbly entreat," I cried, "still in some measure to
be considered as a servant of your majesty, either as reader, or
to assist occasionally if Mlle. Jacobi should be ill."

She looked most graciously pleased, and Immediately closed in
with the proposal, saying, "When your health is restored,--
perhaps sometimes."

Page 409

I then fervently poured forth my thanks for all her goodness, and
my prayers for her felicity.

She had her handkerchief in her hand or at her eyes the whole
time.  I was so much moved by her condescending kindness, that as
soon as I got out of the closet I nearly sobbed.  I went to help
Mlle. Jacobi to put up the jewels, that my emotion might the less
be observed.  The king then came into the room.  He immediately
advanced to the window, where I stood, to speak to me.  I was not
then able to comport myself steadily.  I was forced to turn my
head away from him.  He stood still and silent for some minutes,
waiting to see if I should turn about; but I could not recover
myself sufficiently to face him, strange as it was to do
otherwise; and Perceiving me quite overcome he walked away, and I
saw him no more.  His kindness, his goodness, his benignity,
never shall I forget--never think of but with fresh gratitude and
reverential affection.

They were now all going--I took, for the last time, the cloak of
the queen, and, putting It over her shoulders, slightly ventured
to press them, earnestly, though in a low voice, saying, "God
Almighty bless your majesty!"

She turned round, and, putting her hand upon my ungloved arm,
pressed it with the greatest kindness, and said, "May you be
happy!"

She left me overwhelmed with tender gratitude.

The three eldest princesses were in the next room: they ran in to
me the moment the queen went onward.  Princess Augusta and
Princess Elizabeth each took a hand, and the princess royal put
hers over them.  I could speak to none of them; but they
repeated, "I wish you happy!--I wish you health!" again and
again, with the Sweetest eagerness.

They then set off for Kew.

Here, therefore, end my Court annals; after having lived in the
service of her majesty five years within ten days--from July 17,
1786, to July 7, 1791.

(333) By her "Visions" Fanny apparently means her desire of
resigning her place at Court, and her hope of her father's
concurrence.-ED.

(334) i.e., Attempts to induce him to procure for sundry
strangers some acquaintance with his daughter.-ED.

(335) The Comtesse de Bouflers-Rouvrel and, probably, her
daughter-in-law, the Comtesse Amélie de Bouflers.  Madame de
Bouflers-Rouvrel was distinguished in Parisian society as a
bel-esbrit, and corresponded for many years with Rousseau.  Left
a widow in 1764, she became the mistress of the Prince de Conti.
Her first visit to England was in 1763, when she was taken by
Topham Beauclerk to see Dr. Johnson.  She revisited this country
at the time of the emigration, but returning to France, was
imprisoned by the Revolutionists.  The fall of Robespierre (July,
1794) restored her to liberty.  Am6lie de Bouflers, less
fortunate than her mother-in-law, perished by the guillotine,
June 27, 1794.-ED.

(336) But is it possible, sir, that your daughter has no
holidays?


(337)  Burke's speech, delivered February 9, in a debate on the
army estimates, in which he took occasion to denounce, with great
vehemence, the principles and conduct of the French Revolution,
which he contrasted, much to its disadvantage, with the English
Revolution of 1688.  "The French," he said, "had shown themselves
the ablest architects of ruin that had hitherto appeared in the
world." The sentiments uttered by Burke on this occasion
delighted the ministerialists and friends of the Court as much as
they dismayed his own party.  As the debate proceeded he found
himself in the strange position of a chief of opposition enduring
the compliments of the prime minister and the attacks of Fox and
Sheridan, who took a broader and juster view of the great events
in France, though condemning equally with Burke the Excesses of
the Revolutionists. Fox declared His grief at hearing, "from the
lips of a man whom he loved and revered," Sentiments "so hostile
to the general principles of liberty." This speech of Burke's may
be said to mark the commencement of that disagreement between
himself and Fox, which culminated in the total breach of their
friendship.-ED.

(338) Dr. Burney was a member of this famous club, having been
elected in 1784.  Mr. Windham had been a member since 1778.-ED.

(339) "Reflections on the Revolution in France," published
November 1, 1790.  it was received by the public with avidity,
and went through eleven editions within a year-ED.

(340) An allusion to the imperious interruption of the marriage
of Cecilia, and young Delvile.  See "Cecilia," book vii., ch.
7.-ED.

(341) Some weeks later Fanny has the following allusion to the
ball: "The Princess Mary chatted with me over her own adventures
on the queen's birthday, when she first appeared at Court.  The
history of her dancing at the ball, and the situation of her
partner and brother, the Duke of Clarence, she spoke of with a
sweet ingenuousness and artless openness which makes her very
amiable character.  And not a little did I divert her when I
related the duke's visit to our party!  'O,' cried she,  'he told
me of it himself the next morning, and said, "You may think how
far I was gone, for I kissed the Schwellenberg's hand!"'"-ED.

(342) "On the evening of Saturday May 15 [1784), he [Dr. Johnson]
was in fine spirits at our Essex Head Club.  He told us, 'I dined
yesterday at Patrick's with Mrs. Carter, Miss Hannah More, and
Fanny Burney.  Three such women are not to be found: I know not
where I could find a fourth, except Mrs. Lennox, who is superior
to them all.' " (Boswell.) This "occasional sally" cannot, of
course, be taken as expressing Johnson's deliberate opinion of
the relative merits of Fanny Burney and Mrs. Lenox.  He was an
old friend of Charlotte Lenox, and had written in 1752 the
dedication for her "Female Quixote," a novel of singular charm
and humour, though scarcely to be placed on a par with "Evelina"
or "Cecilia."-ED.

(343) Fanny's successor in office.-ED.

344) The old servant of Mrs. Delany.-ED.

(345) Fanny's maid.-ED.



Page 410                                             '

                                SECTION 18.
                                 (1791-2.)


                             REGAINED LIBERTY.


[Fanny's rambling journey to the west with  Mrs. Ord was a
pleasant restorative, to mind and body, and bore good fruit
hereafter in the pages, of " The Wanderer."  At Bath, in the
course of this journey, she formed an acquaintance equally
interesting and unlooked-for.  It was certainly singular, to use
her own words, "that the first visit I should make after leaving
the queen should be to meet the head of the opposition public,
the Duchess of Devonshire!"  The famous Whig duchess was then in
her thirty-fifth year.   Fanny's description of her personal
charms tallies exactly with the impression which we derive from
her portraits by Reynolds and Gainsborough: that their celebrity
was due rather to expressiveness and animation than to a
countenance regularly beautiful.      But the charming duchess,
like most other people, had a skeleton in her closet.
Notwithstanding her high spirits, and "native. cheerfulness,"
"she appeared to me not happy," writes our penetrating Diarist.
What was the skeleton?  Not gambling debts, although the duchess
followed the fashion of the day, and Sheridan declared that he
had handed her into her carriage when she was literally sobbing
at her losses. Fanny gives us a hint, slight but unmistakeable.
At their first meeting the duchess was accompanied by another
lady--a beautiful, alluring woman, with keen dark eyes, who
smiled, some one said, "like Circe."  Lady Spencer introduced her
daughter to Miss Burney with warm pleasure, and then, "slightly
and as if unavoidably," named the beautiful enchantress--Lady
Elizabeth Foster.  It is only necessary to add that in 1809, some
three years after the death of his first wife, the Duchess
Georgiana, the Duke of Devonshire married again, and his second
wife was Lady Elizabeth Foster.-ED.]


Page 411

                            RELEASED FROM DUTY.

Chelsea College, July.-My dear father was waiting for me in my
apartment at St. James's when their majesties and their fair
royal daughters were gone.  He brought me home, and welcomed me
most sweetly.  My heart was a little sad, in spite of its
contentment.  My joy in quitting my place extended not to
quitting the king and queen; and the final marks of their benign
favour had deeply impressed me.  My mother received me according
to my wishes, and Sarah Most cordially.

My dear James and Charles speedily came to see me; and one
precious half-day I was indulged with my kind Mr. Locke and his
Fredy.  If i had been stouter and stronger in health, I should
then have been almost flightily happy; but the Weakness of the
frame still kept the rest in order.  My ever-kind Miss Cambridge
was also amongst the foremost to hasten with congratulations on
my return to my old ways and to make me promise to visit
Twickenham after my projected tour with Mrs. Ord.

I could myself undertake no visiting at this time; rest and quiet
being quite essential to my recovery.  But my father did the
honours for me amongst those who had been most interested in my
resignation.  He called instantly upon Sir Joshua Reynolds and
Miss Palmer, and Mr. Burke; and he wrote to Mr. Walpole, Mr.
Seward, Mrs. Crewe, Mr. Windham, and my Worcester uncle.  Mr.
Walpole wrote the most charming of answers, In the gallantry of
the old Court, and with all its wit, concluding with a warm
invitation to Strawberry Hill. Sir Joshua and Miss Palmer Sent me
every species of kind exultation.  Mr. Burke was not in town.
Mr. Seward wrote very heartily and cordially, and came also when
my Susanna was here.  Mrs. Crewe immediately pressed me to come
and recruit at Crewe Hall in Cheshire, where she promised me
repose, and good air, and good society.


                    A WESTERN JOURNEY: FARNHAM CASTLE.

Sidmouth, Devonshire, Monday, Aug. 1.-I have now been a week out
upon my travels, but have not had the means or the time, till
this moment, to attempt their brief recital.

Page 412

Mrs. Ord called for me about ten in the morning.  I left my
dearest father with the less regret, as his own journey to Mrs.
crewe was very soon to take place.  It was a terribly rainy
morning, but I was eager not to postpone the excursion.  As we
travelled on towards Staines, I could scarcely divest myself of
the idea that I was but making again my usual journey to Windsor;
and I could with difficulty forbear calling Mrs. Ord Miss Planta
during the whole of that well-known road.  I did not, indeed,
take her maid, who was our third in the coach, for Mr. de Luc, or
Mr. Turbulent; but the place she occupied made me think much more
of those I so long had had for my vis-`a-vis than of herself.

We went on no farther than to Bagshot: thirty miles was the
extremity of our powers; but I bore them very tolerably, though
variably.  We put up at the best inn, very early, and then
inquired what we could see In the town and neighbourhood.
"Nothing!" was the concise answer of a staring maid.  We
determined, therefore, to prowl to the churchyard, and read the
tombstone inscriptions: but when we asked the way, the same
woman, staring still more wonderingly, exclaimed, "Church!
There's no church nigh here!--There's the Prince Of Wales'S, just
past the turning.  You may go and see that, if you will."

So on we walked towards this hunting Villa: but after toiling up
a long unweeded avenue, we had no sooner opened the gate to the
parks than a few score of dogs, which were lying in ambush, Set
Up so prodigious a variety of magnificent barkings, springing
forward at the same time, that, content with having caught a
brief view of the seat, we left them to lord it over the domain
they regarded as their own, and, with all due Submission, pretty
hastily shut the gate, without troubling them to give us another
salute.  We returned to the inn, and read B---'s "Lives of the
Family of the Boyles."

Aug. 2.-We proceeded to Farnham to breakfast, and thence walked
to the castle.  The Bishop of Winchester, Mrs. North.  and the
whole family are gone abroad.  The castle is a good old building,
with as much of modern elegance and fashion intermixed in its
alterations and fitting up as Mrs. North could possibly contrive
to weave into its ancient grandeur. . . . I wished I could have
climbed to the top of an old tower, much out of repair, but so
high, that I fancied I could thence have espied the hills of
Norrbury.  However, I was ready to fall already, from only
ascending the slope to reach the castle.


Page 413

                       A PARTY OF FRENCH FUGITIVES.

We arrived early at Winchester; but the town was so full, as the
judges were expected next morning, that we could only get one
bed-chamber, in which Mrs. Ord, her maid, and myself reposed.

just after we had been obliged to content ourselves with this
scanty accommodation, we saw a very handsome coach and four
horses, followed by a chaise and outriders, stop at the gate, and
heard the mistress of the house declare she- could not receive
the company; and the postilions, at the same time, protested the
horses could go no farther.  They inquired for fresh horses;
there were none to be had in the whole city; and the party were
all forced to remain in their carriages, without horses, at the
inn-gate, for the chance of what might pass on the road.  We
asked who they were, and our pity was doubled in finding them
foreigners.

We strolled about the upper part of the city, leaving the
cathedral for the next morning.  We saw a large, uniform,
handsome palace, which is called by the inhabitants "The king's
house," and which was begun by Charles II.  We did not,
therefore, expect the elegant architecture of his father's days.
One part, they particularly told us, was designed for Nell Gwynn.
It was never finished, and neglect has taken place of time in
rendering it a most ruined structure, though, as it bears no
marks of antiquity, it has rather the appearance of owing its
destruction to a fire than to the natural decay of age.  It is so
spacious, however, and stands so magnificently to overlook the
city, that I wish it to be completed for an hospital or
infirmary.  I have written Mrs. Schwellenberg an account of its
appearance and state, which I am sure will be read by her
majesty.

When we returned to the Inn, still the poor travellers were in
the same situation: they looked so desolate, and could so
indifferently make themselves understood, that Mrs. Ord good-
naturedly invited them to drink tea with us.  They most
thankfully accepted the offer, and two ladies and two gentlemen
ascended the stairs with us to our dining-room.  The chaise had
the female servants.

The elder lady was so truly French--so vive and so triste in
turn--that she seemed formed from the written character of a
Frenchwoman, such, at least, as we English write them.  She was
very forlorn in her air, and very sorrowful in her counte-


Page 414

nance; yet all action and gesture, and of an animation when
speaking nearly fiery in its vivacity: neither pretty nor young,
but neither ugly nor old; and her smile, which was rare, had a
finesse very engaging; while her whole demeanour announced a
person Of consequence, and all her discourse told that she was
well-informed, well-educated, and well-bred.

The other lady, whom they called mademoiselle, as the first
madame, was young, dark but clear and bright in her eyes and
complexion, though without good features, or a manner of equal
interest with the lady she accompanied.  She proved, however,
sensible, and seemed happy in the general novelty around her.
She spoke English pretty well, and was admired without mercy by
the rest of the party, as a perfect mistress of the language.
The madame spoke it very ill indeed, but pleasantly.

Of the two gentlemen, one they called only monsieur, and the
other the madame addressed as her brother.  The monsieur was
handsome, rather tonnish, and of the high haughty ton, and seemed
the devoted attendant or protector of the madame, who sometimes
spoke to him almost with asperity, from eagerness, and a tinge of
wretchedness and impatience, which coloured all she said; and, at
other times, softened off her vehemence with a smile the most
expressive, and which made its way to the mind immediately, by
coming with sense and meaning, and not merely from good humour
and good spirits as the more frequent smiles of happier persons.
The brother seemed lively and obliging, and entirely at the
devotion of his sister, who gave him her commands with an
authority that would not have brooked dispute.

They told us they were just come from Southampton, which they had
visited in their way from viewing the fleet at the Isle of Wight
and Portsmouth, and they meant to go on now to Bath.

We soon found they were aristocrats, which did better for them
with Mrs. Ord and me than it would have done with you republicans
of Norbury and Mickleham; yet I wish you had all met the madame,
and heard her Indignant unhappiness.  They had been in England
but two months.  They all evidently belonged to madame, who
appeared to me a fugitive just before the flight of the French
king,(346) or in consequence of his having been taken.

Page 415

She entered upon her wretched situation very soon, lamenting that
he was, in fact, no king, and bewailing his want of courage for
his trials.  the queen she never mentioned.  She spoke once or
twice of son mari, but did not say who or what he was, nor where.

"They say," she cried, "In France they have now liberty! Who has
liberty, le peuple, or the mob?  Not les honn`etes gens; for
those whose principles are known to be aristocratic must fly, or
endure every danger and indignity.  Ah! est-ce l`a la libert`e?"

The monsieur said he had always been the friend of liberty, such
as it was in England; but in France it was general tyranny.
"In England," he cried, "he was a true democrat, though bien
aristocrate in France."

"At least," said the poor madame, "formerly, in all the sorrows
of life, we had nos terres to which we could retire, and there
forget them, and dance, and sing, and laugh, and fling them all
aside, till forced back to Paris.  But now our villas are no
protection: we may be safe, but the first offence conceived by le
peuple is certain destruction; and, without a moment's warning,
we may be forced to fly our own roofs, and see them and all we
are worth burnt before our eyes in horrible triumph."

This was all said in French.  But the anguish of her Countenance
filled me with compassion, though it was scarcely possible to
restrain a smile when, the moment after, she" said she Might be
very wrong, but she hoped I would forgive her if she owned she
preferred Paris incomparably to London and pitied me very
unreservedly for never having seen that first of cities.

Her sole hope, she said, for the overthrow of that anarchy in
which the Unguarded laxity of the king had plunged the first
Country in the world,--vous me pardonnec, Mademoiselle,--was now
from the German princes, who, she flattered herself, Would rise
In their own defence.

She told me, the next moment, of les spectacles I should find at
Southampton, and asked me what she might expect at Bath of public
amusement and buildings.

I was travelling I said, for my health, and Should visit no
theatres, ball-rooms, etc., and could recommend none.

She did not seem to comprehend me; yet, in the midst of

Page 416

naming these places, she sighed as deeply from the bottom of her
heart as if she had been forswearing the world for ever in
despair.  But it was necessary, , she said, when unhappy, to go
abroad the more, pour se distraire.  In parting, they desired
much to renew acquaintance with us when we returned to London.
Mrs. Ord gave her direction to the monsieur, who in return, wrote
theirs--"The French ladies, NO. 30, Gerrard-street, Soho."

They stayed till our early hour Of retiring made Mrs. Ord suffer
them to go.  I was uneasy to know what would become of them.  I
inquired of a waiter: he unfeelingly laughed, and said, "O! they
do well enough; they've got a room."  I asked if he could yet let
them have beds to stay, or horses to proceed?  "No," answered he,
sneeringly: "but it don't matter for, now they've got a room,
they are as merry and capering as if they were going to dance."

just after this, Mrs. Stephenson, Mrs. Ord's maid, came running
in.  "La! ma'am," she cried, "I've been so frightened, you can't
think: the French folks sent for me on purpose, to ask t'other
lady's name, they said, and they had asked William before, so
they knew it; but they said I must write it down, and where she
lived; so I was forced to write, 'Miss Burney, Chelsea,' and they
fell a smiling so at one another."

'Twas impossible to help laughing; but we desired her, in return,
to send for one of their maids and ask their names also.  She
came back, and said she could not understand the maids, and so
they had called one of the gentlemen, and he had written down
"Madame la Comtesse de Menage, et Mlle. de Beaufort."

We found, afterwards, they had sat up till two in the morning,
and then procured horses and journeyed towards Oxford.

                           WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL.

Aug. 3.-We walked to the cathedral, and saw it completely.  Part
of it remains from the original Saxon building, though neglected,
except by travellers, as the rest of the church is ample for all
uses, and alone kept in repair.  The bones of eleven Saxon kings
are lodged in seven curious old chests, in which they were
deposited after being dug up and disturbed in the civil wars and
ensuing confusions.  The small number of chests is owing to the
small proportion remaining of some of the skeletons, which
occasioned their being united with others.


Page 417
The Saxon characters are in many inscriptions preserved, though
in none entire.  They were washing a plaster from the walls, to
discern some curious old painting, very miserable, but very
entertaining, of old legends, which some antiquaries are now
endeavouring to discover.

William of Wykham, by whom the cathedral was built in its present
form, lies buried, with his effigy and whole monument in very
fine alabaster, and probably very like, as it was done, they
aver, before he died.  Its companion, equally superb, is Cardinal
Beaufort, uncle of Harry VI.  William Rufus, slain in the
neighbouring forest, is buried in the old choir: his monument is
of plain stone, without any inscription or ornament, and only
shaped like a coffin.  Hardyknute had a much more splendid
monument preserved for him; but Harry I. had other business to
attend, I presume, than to decorate the tomb of one brother while
despoiling of his kingdom another.  An extremely curious old
chapel and monument remain of Archbishop Langton, of valuable
gothic workmanship.  The altar, which is highly adorned with
gold, was protected in Cromwell's time by the address and skill
of the Winton inhabitants, who ran up a slight wall before it,
and deceived the reformists, soi-disants.  I could hardly quit
this poor dear old building, so much I was interested with its
Saxon chiefs, its little queer niches, quaint images, damp cells,
mouldering walls, and mildewed pillars.  One chest contains the
bones entire of Egbert, our first king.  Edred, also.  I
distinguished.

The screen was given to this church by King Charles, and is the
work of Inigo Jones.  It is very simple in point of ornament,
very complete in taste and elegance; nevertheless, a screen of
Grecian architecture in a cathedral of gothic workmanship was
ill, I think, imagined.


                   STONEHENGE, WILTON, AND MILTON ABBEY.

Aug. 5.-We went to Stonehenge.  Here I was prodigiously
disappointed, at first, by the huge masses of stone so
unaccountably piled at the summit of Salisbury Plain.  However,
we alighted, and the longer I surveyed and considered them, the
more augmented my wonder and diminished my disappointment.

We then went on to Wilton, where I renewed my delight over the
exquisite Vandykes, and with the statues, busts, and pictures,
which again I sighingly quitted, with a longing wish

Page 418

I might ever pass under that roof time enough to see them more
deliberately.  We stopped in the Hans Holbein Porch, and upon the
Inigo Jones bridge, as long as we Could stand, after standing and
staring and straining our eyes till our guide was quite fatigued.
'Tis a noble collection; and how might it be enjoyed if, as an
arch rustic Old labouring man told u, fine folks lived as they
ought to do!

Sunday, Aug. 7.-After an early dinner we set off for Milton
Abbey, the seat of Lord Milton, partly constructed from the old
abbey and partly new.  There is a magnificent gothic hall in
excellent preservation, of evident Saxon workmanship, and
extremely handsome, though not of the airy beauty of the chapel.
The situation of this abbey is truly delicious: it is in a vale
of extreme fertility and richness, surrounded by hills of the
most exquisite form, and mostly covered with hanging woods, but
so varied in their growth and groups, that the eye is perpetually
fresh caught with objects of admiration.  'Tis truly a lovely
place.


                            LYME AND SIDMOUTH.

Aug. 8.-We proceeded to Bridport, a remarkably clean town, with
the air so clear and pure, it seemed a new climate.  Hence we set
out, after dinner, for Lyme, and the road through which we
travelled is the most beautiful to which my wandering destinies
have yet sent me.  It is diversified with all that can compose
luxuriant scenery, and with just as much of the approach to
sublime as is in the province of unterrific beauty.  The hills
are the highest, I fancy, in the south of this county--the
boldest and noblest; the vales of the finest verdure, wooded and
watered as if only to give ideas of finished landscapes; while
the whole, from time to time, rises into still superior grandeur,
by openings between the heights that terminate the View With the
Splendour of the British channel.

There was no going on in the carriage through such enchanting
scenes; we got out upon the hills, and walked till we could walk
no longer.  The descent down to Lyme is uncommonly steep; and
indeed is very striking, from the magnificence of the ocean that
washes its borders.  Chidiock and Charmouth, two villages between
Bridport and Lyme, are the very prettiest I have ever seen.
During the whole of this post I was fairly taken away, not only
from the world but from myself, and completely wrapped up and
engrossed by the


Page 419

pleasures, wonders, and charms of animated nature, thus seen in
fair perfection.  Lyme.  however, brought me to myself; for the
part by the sea, where we fixed our abode, was so dirty and fishy
that I rejoiced when we left it.

Aug. 9.- We travelled to Sidmouth.  And here we have taken up our
abode for a week.  It was all devoted to rest and sea-air.

Sidmouth is built in a vale by the sea-coast, and the terrace for
company is nearer to the ocean than any I have elsewhere seen,
and therefore both more pleasant and more commodious.  The little
bay is of a most peaceful kind, and the sea was as calm and
gentle as the Thames.  I longed to bathe, but I am in no state
now to take liberties with myself, and, having no advice at hand,
I ran no risk.



                             SIDMOUTH LOYALTY.

Nothing has given me so much pleasure since I came to this place
as our landlady's account of her own and her town's loyalty.  She
is a baker, a poor widow woman, she told us, who lost her husband
by his fright in thinking he saw a ghost, just after her mother
was drowned.  She carries on the business, with the help of her
daughter, a girl about fifteen.

I inquired of her if she had seen the royal family when they
visited Devonshire?  "Yes, sure, ma'am!" she cried; there was
ne'er a soul left in all this place for going Out to See 'em.  My
daughter and I rode a double horse, and we went to Sir George
Young's, and got into the park, for we knew the housekeeper, and
she gave my daughter a bit to taste of the king's dinner when
they had all done, and she said she might talk on it when she was
a old woman."

I asked another good woman, who came in for some flour, if she
had been of the party?  "No," she said, "she was ill, but she had
had holiday enough upon the king's recovery, for there was such a
holiday then as the like was not in all England."

"Yes, sure, ma'am," cried the poor baker-woman, "we all did our
best then for there was ne'er a town in all England like Sidmouth
for rejoicing.  Why, I baked a hundred and ten penny loaves for
the poor, and so did every baker in town, and there's three, and
the gentry subscribed for it.  And the gentry roasted a bullock
and cut it all up, and we all eat it, in the midst of the
rejoicing.  And then we had such a fine


page 420
sermon, it made us all cry; there was a more tears shed than ever
was known, all for over-joy.  And they had the king drawed, and
dressed up all in gold and laurels, and they put un in a coach
and eight horses, and carried un about; and all the grand
gentlemen in the town, and all abouts, come in their own
carriages to join.  And they had the finest band of music in all
England singing 'God save the king,' and every Soul joined in the
chorus, and all not so much because he was a king, but because
they said a was such a worthy gentleman, and that the like of him
was never known in this nation before: so we all subscribed for
the illuminations for that reason, some a shilling, some a
guinea, and some a penny,--for no one begrudged it, as a was such
a worthy person."

This good Mrs. Dare has purchased images of all the royal family,
in her great zeal, and I had them in my apartment--King, Queen,
Prince of Wales, Dukes of York, Clarence, Kent, Sussex,
Cumberland, and Cambridge; Princess Royal, and Princesses
Augusta, Eliza, Mary, Sophia, and Amelia, God bless them all!


                  POWDERHAM CASTLE AND COLLUMPTON CHURCH.

Aug. 16.-We quitted Sidmouth, and proceeded through the finest
country possible to Exmouth, to see that celebrated spot of
beauty.  The next morning we crossed the Ex and visited Powderham
Castle.  Its appearance, noble and antique without, loses all
that character from French finery and minute elegance and gay
trappings within.  The present owner, Lord Courtney, has fitted
it up in the true Gallic taste, and every room has the air of
being ornamented for a gala.  The housekeeper did not let us see
half the castle; she only took us to those rooms which the
present lord has modernized and fitted up in the sumptuous French
taste ; the old part of the castle she doubtless thought would
disgrace him; forgetting or rather never knowing--that the old
part alone was worth a traveller's curiosity, since the rest
might be anticipated by a visit to any celebrated cabinet-maker.

Thence we proceeded to Star Cross to dine; and saw on the
opposite coast the house Of Sir Francis Drake, which was built by
his famous ancestor.  Here we saw a sight that reminded me of the
drawings of Webber from the South Sea Isles; women scarce clothed
at all, with feet and legs entirely naked, straw bonnets of
uncouth Shapes tied on their heads, a


Page 421

sort of man's jacket on their bodies, and their short coats
pinned up in the form of concise trousers, very succinct! and a
basket on each arm, strolling along with wide mannish strides to
the borders of the river, gathering cockles.  They looked,
indeed, miserable and savage.

Hence we went, through very beautiful roads, to Exeter.  That
great old city is too narrow, too populous, too dirty, and too
ill-paved, to meet with my applause.  Next morning we breakfasted
at Collumpton, and visited its church.  Here we saw the remains
of a once extremely rich gothic structure, though never large.
There is all the appearance of its having been the church of an
abbey before the Reformation.  It is situated in a deep but most
fertile vale; its ornaments still retain so much of gilding,
painting, and antique splendour, as could never have belonged to
a mere country church.  The wood carving, too, though in ruins,
is most laboriously well done; the roof worked in blue and gold,
lighter, but in the style of the royal chapel at St. James's.We
were quite    surprised to find such a structure in a town so
little known or named.  One aisle was added by a clothier of the
town in             the reign of Edward VI.; probably upon its
first being used as a protestant and public place of worship.
This is still perfect, but very clumsy and inelegant compared
with the ancient part.  The man,  to show he   gloried in the
honest profession whence he derived wealth for this good purpose,
has his arms at one corner, with his name, J.  Lane, in gothic
characters, and on the opposite corner his image, terribly worked
in the wall, with a pair of shears in one hand, so large as to
cut across the figure downwards almost obscuring all but his
feet.  Till the cicerone explained this, I took the idea for a
design of Death, placed where most conspicuously he might show
himself, ready to cut in two the poor objects that entered the
church.


                            GLASTONBURY ABBEY.

Aug. 19.-To vary the scenery we breakfasted at Bridgewater, in as
much dirt and noise, from the judges filling the town, as at
Taunton we had enjoyed neatness and quiet.  We walked beside the
river, which is navigable from the Bristol channel ; and a stream
more muddy, and a quay more dirty and tarry and pitchy, I would
not covet to visit again.  It is here called the Perrot.


Thence, however, we proceeded to what made amends

Page 422

all--the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey.  These are the most elegant
remains of monkish grandeur I have ever chanced to see,--the
forms, designs, ornaments,---all that is left is in the highest
perfection of gothic beauty.  Five hundred souls, the people told
us, were supported in this abbey and its cloisters.

A chapel of Joseph of Arimathea has the outworks nearly entire,
and I was quite bewitched with their antique beauty.  But the
entrance into the main front of the abbey is stupendous; its
height is such that the eye aches to look up at it, though it is
now curtailed, by no part of its arch remaining except the first
inclination towards that form, which shows it to have been the
entrance.  Not a bit of roof remains in any part.  All the
monuments that Were not utterly decayed or destroyed have been
removed to Wells.  Mere walls alone are left here, except the
monks' kitchen.  This is truly curious: it is a circular
building, with a dome as high--higher I fancy--than the
Pantheon's; four immense fireplaces divide it Into four parts at
the bottom, and an oven still is visible.  One statue is left in
one niche, which the people about said was of the abbot's chief
cook!

If this monastery was built by the famous old cruel hypocrite
abbot, Dunstan, I shall grieve so much taste was bestowed on such
a wretch.(347)  We had only labourers for our informants.  But
one boy was worth hearing: he told me there was a well of
prodigious depth, which he showed me, and this well had long been
dried up, and so covered over as to be forgotten, till his
grandfather dreamed a dream that the water of this well would
restore him from a bad state of health to good; so he dug, and
the well was found, and he drank the water and was cured!  And
since then the poor came from all parts who were afflicted with
diseases, and drank the water and were cured.  One woman was now
at Glastonbury to try it, and already almost well!  What strange
inventions and superstitions even the ruins of what had belonged
to St. Dunstan can yet engender!  The Glastonbury thorn we forgot
to ask for.


                             WELLS CATHEDRAL.

Hence we proceeded to Wells.  Here we waited, as usual, upon the
cathedral, which received our compliments with but


Page 423

small return of civility.  There was little to be seen without,
except old monuments of old abbots removed from Glastonbury, so
inferior in workmanship and design to the abbey once containing
them, that I was rather displeased than gratified
by the sight.  They have also a famous clock, brought from the
abbey at Its general demolition.  This exhibits a set of horses
with riders, who curvet a dance round a bell by the pulling a
string, with an agility comic enough, and fitted to serve for a
puppet-show; which, in all probability, was its design, in order
to recreate the poor monks at their hours of play.

There is also a figure of St. Dunstan, who regularly strikes the
quarters of every hour by clock-work, and who holds in his hand a
pair of tongs--the same I suppose as those with which he was wont
to pull the devil by the nose, in their nocturnal interviews.

The old castle of Wells is now the palace for the bishop.  It is
moated still, and looks dreary, Secluded, and in the bad old
style.

At night, upon a deeply deliberate investigation in the medical
way, it was suddenly resolved that we should proceed to Bath
instead of Bristol, and that I should try there first the stream
of King BladUd.  So now, at this moment, here we are.


BATH REVISITED.

Queen Square, Bath, Aug. 20.--Bath is extremely altered since
I last visited it.  Its circumference is perhaps trebled but its
buildings are so unfinished, so spread, so everywhere beginning
and nowhere ending, that it looks rather like a space of ground
lately fixed upon for erecting a town, than a town itself, of so
many years' duration.  It is beautiful and wonderful throughout.
The hills are built up and down, and the vales so stocked with
streets and houses, that, in some places, from the ground-floor
on one side a street, you cross over to the attic of your
opposite neighbour.  The white stone, where clean, has a
beautiful effect, and, even where worn, a grand one.  But I must
not write a literal Bath guide, and a figurative one Anstey (348)
has all to himself.  I will only tell you in brief, yet in truth,
it looks a city of palaces, a town of hills, and a hill of towns.

Page 424

O how have I thought, in patrolling it, Of my poor Mrs, Thrale!
I went to look (and sigh at the sight) at the house on the North
parade where we dwelt, and almost every Old place brings to my
mind some scene in which we were engaged.  Besides the constant
sadness of all recollections that bring fresh to my thoughts a
breach with a friend once so loved, how are most of the families
altered and dispersed in these absent ten Years!  From Mrs.
Montagu's, Miss Gregory by a marriage disapproved, is removed for
ever; from Mrs. Cholmley's, by the severer blow of death, Lady
Mulgrave is separated; Mrs. Lambart, by the same blow, has lost
the brother, Sir Philip Clerke, who brought us to her
acquaintance; Mr. Bowdler and his excellent eldest daughter have
yielded to the same stroke; Mrs. Byron has followed.  Miss Leigh
has been married and widowed; Lord Mulgrave has had the same hard
lot; and, besides these, Mrs. Cotton, Mrs. Thrale's aunt, Lady
Miller, and Mr. Thrale himself, are no more.


                        A VISIT FROM LADY SPENCER.

Aug. 31.-I found I had no acquaintance here, except Mr.
Harrington, who is ill, Mrs. Hartley, who is too lame for
visiting, and the Vanbrughs; and though Mrs. Ord, from her
frequent residence here, knows many of the settled inhabitants,
she has kindly complied with my request of being dispensed from
making new visits.

Soon after we came, while I was finishing some letters, and quite
alone, Mrs. Ord's servant brought me word Lady Spencer would ask
me how I did, if I was well enough to receive her.  Of course I
begged she might come up-stairs.  I have met her two or three
times at my dearest Mrs. Delany's, where I met, also, with marked
civilities from her.  I knew she was here, with her unhappy
daughter,--Lady Duncannon,(349) whom she assiduously nurses,
aided by her more celebrated other daughter, the Duchess of
Devonshire.

She made a very flattering apology for coming, and then began to
converse upon my beloved Mrs. Delany, and thence to subjects more
general.  She is a sensible and sagacious character, intelligent,
polite, and agreeable, and she spends her life in such exercises
of active charity and zeal, that she

Page 425

would be one of the most exemplary women of rank of the age, had
she less of show in her exertions, and more of forbearance in
publishing them.  My dear oracle, however, once said, vainglory
must not be despised or discouraged, when it operated but as a
human engine for great or good deeds.

She spoke of Lady Duncannon's situation with much sorrow, and
expatiated upon her resignation to her fate, her prepared state
for death, and the excellence of her principles, with an
eagerness and feeling that quite overwhelmed me with surprise and
embarrassment.  Her other daughter she did not mention; but her
grand-daughter, Lady Georgiana Cavendish, she spoke of with
rapture.  Miss Trimmer, also, the eldest daughter of the
exceeding worthy Mrs. Trimmer, she named with a regard that
seemed quite affectionate.  She told me she had the care of the
young Lady Cavendishes, but was in every respect treated as if
one of themselves.


                           BATH SUNDAY SCHOOLS.

The name of Mrs. Trimmer led us to talk of the Sunday schools and
Schools of Industry.  They are both in a very flourishing state
at Bath, and Lady Spencer has taken one school under her own
immediate patronage.  The next day, of course, I waited on her -
she was out.  But the following day, which was Sunday,, she sent
me a message up-stairs to say she would take me to see the
Sunday-school, if I felt well enough to desire it.  She waited
below for my answer, which, of course, I carried down in my
proper person, ready hatted and cloaked.

It was a most interesting sight.  Such a number of poor innocent
children, all put into a way of right, most taken immediately
from every way of wrong, lifting Up their little hands, and
joining in those prayers and supplications for mercy and grace,
which, even if they understand not, must at least impress them
with a general idea of religion, a dread of evil, and a love of
good ; it was, indeed, a sight to expand the best hopes of the
heart.

I felt very much obliged to my noble conductress, with whom I had
much talk upon the subject in our walk back.  Her own little
school, of course, engaged us the most.  She told me that the
next day six of her little girls were to be new clothed, by
herself, in honour of the birthday of the Duke of Devonshire's
second daughter, Lady Harriot Cavendish, who


Page 426

was to come to her grandmamma's house to see the
ceremony.  To this sight she also Invited me, and I accepted her
kindness with pleasure.

The following day, therefore, Monday, I obeyed Lady Spencer's
time, and at six o'clock was at her house in Gay-street.  Lady
Spencer had Mrs. Mary Pointz and Miss Trimmer with her; and the
six children, just prepared for Lady Harriot, in their new gowns,
were dismissed from their examination, upon my arrival, and sent
down-stairs to Wait the coming of her little ladyship, who,
having dined with her mamma, was later than her appointment.

Lady Georgiana is just eight Years old.  She has a fine,
animated, sweet, and handsome countenance, and the form and
figure of a girl of ten or twelve years of age.  Lady Harriot,
who this day was six Years old, is by no means so handsome, but
has an open and pleasing countenance, and a look of the most
happy disposition.  Lady Spencer brought her to me immediately.
I inquired after the young Marquis of Hartington.  Lady Spencer
told me they never trusted him from the Upper walks, near his
house, in Marlborough-buildings.  He has a house of his own near
the duke's, and a carriage entirely to himself; but YOU will see
the necessity of these appropriations, when I remind You he is
now fourteen months old.

Lady Spencer had now a lottery--without blanks, you Will suppose-
-of playthings and toys for the children.  She distributed the
prizes, and Lady Duncannon held the tickets.  During this entered
Lord Spencer, the son of Lady Spencer, who was here only for
three days, to see his sister Duncannon.  They had all dined with
the little Lady Harriot.  The duke is now at Chatsworth, in
Derbyshire.

I thought of Lord Spencer's kindness to Charles, and I
recollected he was a favourite of Mr. Windham.  I saw him,
therefore, with very different ideas to those raised by the sight
of his poor sister Duncannon, to whom he made up with every mark
of pitying affection; she, meanwhile, receiving him with the most
expressive pleasure, though nearly silent.  I could not help
feeling touched, in defiance of all obstacles.

Presently followed two ladies.  Lady Spencer, with a look and
manner warmly announcing pleasure in what she was doing, then
introduced me to the first of them, saying, "Duchess of
Devonshire, Miss Burney."

She made me a very civil compliment upon hoping my

Page 427-

health was recovering, and Lady Spencer then, shortly, and as if
unavoidably, said, "Lady Elizabeth Foster."

I have neglected to mention, in its place, that the six poor
little girls had a repast in the garden, and Lady Georgiana
earnestly begged leave to go down and see and speak with them.
She applied to Lady Spencer.  "O grandmamma," she cried, "pray
let me go!  Mamma says it all depends upon you."  The duchess
expressed some fear lest there might be any illness or disorder
among the poor things: Lady Spencer answered for them; and Lady
Georgiana, with a sweet delight, flew down into the garden, all
the rest accompanying, and Lady Spencer and the duchess soon
following.  It was a beautiful sight, taken in all its
dependencies, from the windows.  Lord Spencer presently joined
them,


                     GEORGIANA, DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE

To return to the duchess.  I did not find so much beauty in her
as I expected, notwithstanding the variations of accounts; but I
found far more of manner, politeness, and gentle quiet.  She
seems by nature to possess the highest animal spirits, but she
appeared to me not happy.  I thought she looked oppressed within,
though there is a native cheerfulness about her which I fancy
scarce ever deserts her.  There is in her face, especially when
she speaks, a sweetness of good-humour and obligingness, that
seem to be the natural and instinctive qualities of her
disposition; joined to an openness of countenance that announces
her endowed, by nature, with a character intended wholly for
honesty, fairness, and good purposes.

She now conversed with me wholly, and in so soberly sensible and
quiet a manner, as I had imagined incompatible with her powers.
Too much and too little credit have variously been given her.
About me and my health she was more civil than I can well tell
you; not from prudery--I have none, in these records, methinks!-
-but from its being mixed into all that passed.  We talked over
my late tour, Bath waters, and the king's illness.  This, which
was led to by accident, was here a tender Subject, considering
her heading the Regency squadron; however, I have only one line
to pursue, and from that I can never vary.  I spoke of my own
deep distress from his sufferings without reserve, and of the
distress of the queen with the most avowed compassion and
respect.  She was extremely well-bred in all she said herself,
and seemed willing


Page 428

to keep up the subject.  I fancy no one has just in the same way
treated it with her grace before; however, she took all in good
part, though to have found me retired in discontent had perhaps
been more congenial to her.  But I have been sedulous to make
them all know the contrary.  Nevertheless, as I am eager to be
considered apart from all party, I was much pleased, after all
this, to have her express herself very desirous to keep up Our
acquaintance, ask many questions as to the chance of my remaining
in Bath, most politely hope to profit from it, and, finally,
inquire my direction.

Lady Elizabeth (Foster] has the character of being so alluring
that Mrs. Holroyd told me it was the opinion Of Mr. Gibbon no man
could withstand her, and that, if she chose to beckon the lord
chancellor from his woolsack, in full sight of the world, he
could not resist obedience!(350)


                               BISHOP PERCY.

Not long after our settling at Bath, I found, upon returning from
the Pump-room, cards left for me of the Bishop of Dromore (Dr.
Percy), Mrs. and the Miss Percys.  I had met them formerly once
at Miss Reynolds's, and once Visited them when Dr. Percy was Dean
of Carlisle.  The collector and editor of the beautiful reliques
of ancient English poetry, I could not but be happy to again see.
I returned the visit: they were out; but the bishop soon after
came when I was at home.  I had a pleasant little chat with him.
The bishop is perfectly easy and unassuming, very communicative,
and, though not very entertaining because too prolix, he is
otherwise intelligent and of good commerce.  Mrs. Percy is ill,
and cannot make visits, though she sends her name and receives
company at home.  She is very uncultivated and ordinary in
manners and conversation, but a good creature and much delighted
to talk over the royal family, to one of whom she was formerly a
nurse.


                     THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE AGAIN.

Three days before we left Bath, as I was coming with Mrs. Ord
from the Pump-room, we encountered a chair from

Page 429

which a lady repeatedly kissed her hand and bowed to me.  I was
too nearsighted to distinguish who she was, till, coming close,
and a little stopped by more people, she put her face to the
glass, and said "How d'ye do?  How d'ye do?" and I recollected
the Duchess of Devonshire.


About an hour after I had again the honour of a visit from her,
and with Lady dowager Spencer.  I was luckily at home alone, Mrs
Ord having dedicated the rest of the morning to her own visits.
I received them, therefore, with great pleasure.  I now saw the
duchess far more easy and lively in her spirits, and,
consequently, far more lovely in her person.  Vivacity is so much
her characteristic, that her style of beauty requires it
indispensably; the beauty, indeed, dies away without it.  I now
saw how her fame for personal charms had been obtained; the
expression of her smiles is so very sweet, and has an
ingenuousness and openness so singular, that, taken in those
moments, not the most rigid critic could deny the justice of her
personal celebrity.  She was quite gay, easy, and charming:
indeed, that last epithet might have been coined for her.

This has certainly been a singular acquaintance for me that the
first visit I should make after leaving the queen should be to
meet the head of the opposition public, the Duchess of
Devonshire!


    DR. BURNEY'S CONVERSATION WITH MR. BURKE: REMARKS BY Miss
BURNEY.

"I [Dr. Burney] dined with Sir Joshua last week, and met Mr.
Burke, his brother, Mr. Malone, the venerable Bishop of St. Pol
de L`eonn, and a French abb`e or chevalier.  I found Mr. Burke in
the room on my arrival, and after the first very cordial
civilities were over, he asked me, with great eagerness, whether
I thought he might go in his present dress to pay his respects to
Miss Burney, and was taking up his hat, till I told him you were
out of town.  He imagined, I Suppose, you were in St.
Martin's-street, where he used to call upon you.  In talking over
your health, the recovery of your liberty and of society, he
said, if Johnson had been alive, your history would
Page 430

have furnished him with an additional and interesting article to
his 'Vanity of Human Wishes.'  He said he had never been more
mistaken in his life.  He thought the queen had never behaved
more amiably, or shown more good sense, than in appropriating you
to her service; but what a service had it turned out!--a
confinement to such a companion as Mrs. Schwellenberg!--Here
exclamations of severity and kindness in turn lasted a
considerable time."

If ever I see Mr. Burke where he speaks to me upon the subject, I
will openly confide to him how impossible it was that the queen
should conceive the subserviency expected, unjustly and
unwarrantably, by Mrs. Schwellenberg: to whom I ought only to
have belonged officially, and at official hours, unless the
desire of further intercourse had been reciprocal.  The queen had
imagined that a younger and more lively colleague would have made
her faithful old servant happier and that idea was merely amiable
in her majesty, who could not Suspect the misery inflicted on
that poor new colleague,


                           LITERARY RECREATION.

Chelsea College, October-.-I have never been so pleasantly
situated at home since I lost the sister of my heart and my most
affectionate Charlotte.  My father is almost constantly Within.
Indeed, I now live with him wholly ; he has himself appropriated
me a place, a seat, a desk, a table, and every convenience and
comfort, and he never seemed yet so earnest to keep me about him.
We read together, write together,- chat, compare notes,
communicate projects, and diversify each other's employments.  He
is all goodness, gaiety, and affection; and his society and
kindness are more precious to Me than ever.
Fortunately, in this season of leisure and comfort, the spirit of
composition proves active.  The day is never long enough, and I
Could employ two pens almost incessantly, in my scribbling what
will not be repressed.  This is a delight to my dear father
inexpressibly great and though I have gone no further than to let
him know, from time to time, the species of matter that occupies
me, he is perfectly contented, and patiently waits till something
is quite finished, before he insists upon reading a word.  This
"suits my humour well," as my own industry is all gone when once
its intent is produced.

For the rest I have been going on with my third tragedy.

Page 431

 I have two written, but never yet have had opportunity to read
them; which, of course, prevents their being corrected to the
best of my power, and fitted for the perusal of less indulgent
eyes; or rather of eyes less prejudiced.

Believe me, my dear friends, in the present composed and happy
state of my mind, I Could never have suggested these tales; but,
having only to correct, combine, contract, and finish, I will not
leave them undone.  Not, however, to sadden myself to the same
point in which I began them, I read more than I write, and call
for happier themes from others, to enliven my mind from the
dolorous sketches I now draw of my Own.

The library or study, in which we constantly sit, supplies such
delightful variety of food, that I have nothing to wish.  Thus,
my beloved sisters and friends, you see me, at length, enjoying
all that peace, ease, and chosen recreation and employment, for
which so long I sighed in vain, and which, till very lately, I
had reason to believe, even since attained, had been allowed me
too late.  I am more and more thankful every night, every
morning, for the change in my destiny, and present blessings of
my lot ; and you, my beloved Susan and Fredy, for whose prayers I
have so often applied in my sadness, suffering, and despondence,
afford me now the same community of thanks and acknowledgments.


                     SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDs's BLINDNESS.

November.-Another evening my father took me to Sir Joshua
Reynolds.  I had long languished to see that kindly zealous
friend, but his ill health had intimidated me rom making the
attempt; and now my dear father went up stairs alone, and
inquired of Miss Palmer if her uncle was well enough to admit me.
He returned for me immediately.  I felt the utmost pleasure in
again mounting his staircase.

Miss Palmer hastened forward and embraced me most cordially.  I
then shook hands with Sir Joshua.  He had a bandage over one eye,
and the other shaded with a green halfbonnet.  He seemed serious
even to sadness, though extremely kind.  "I am very glad," he
said, in a meek voice and dejected accent, "to see you again, and
I wish I could see you better! but I have only one eye now,--and
hardly that."

I was really quite touched.  The expectation of total blind-

Page 432

ness depresses him inexpressibly; not, however, inconceivably I
hardly knew how to express either my concern for his altered
situation since our meeting, or my joy in again being with him:
but my difficulty was short; Miss Palmer eagerly drew me to
herself, and recommended to Sir Joshua to go on with his cards.
He had no spirit to oppose; probably, indeed, no inclination.

One other time we called again, in a morning.  Sir Joshua and his
niece were alone, and that invaluable man was even more dejected
than before.  How grievous to me It is to see him thus
changed!(352)


                            AMONG OLD FRIENDS.

December.-I most gladly accepted an invitation to my good Mrs.
Ord, to meet a circle of old friends.  The day proved extremely
pleasant.  We went to dinner, my father and I, and met Mrs.
Montagu, in good spirits, and very unaffectedly agreeable.  No
one was there to awaken ostentation, no new acquaintance to
require any surprise from her powers; she was therefore natural
and easy, as well as informing and entertaining.

Mrs. Garrick embraced me again and again, to express a
satisfaction in meeting me once more in this social way, that she
would have thought it indecorous to express by words.  I thanked
her exactly in the same language ; and, without a syllable being
uttered, she said, "I rejoice you are no longer a courtier!" and
I answered, "I love you dearly for preferring me in my old
state!"

In the evening we were joined by Lady Rothes,(353) with whom I
had my peace to make for a long-neglected letter upon my

Page 433

"restoration to society," as she termed it, and who was very
lively and pleasant. . . .

Mr. Pepys, who came just at that instant from Twickenham, which
he advanced eagerly to tell me, talked of Mr. Cambridge, and his
admirable wit and spirits, and Miss Cambridge, and her fervent
friendship for me, and the charm and agreeability of the whole
house, with an ardour so rapid, there scarce needed any reply.

Mr. Batt gave me a most kindly congratulatory bow upon his
entrance.  I knew his opinion of my retreat, and understood it:
but I was encircled till the concluding part of the evening by
the Pepys and Lady Rothes, etc.; and then Mr. Batt seated himself
by my elbow, and began.  "How I rejoice," he cried, "to see you
at length out of thraldom!"

"Thraldom?" quoth I, "that's rather a strong word!  I assure you
'tis the first time I have heard it pronounced full and plumply."

"O, but," cried he, laughing, "I may be allowed to say so,
because you know my principles.  You know me to be loyal; you
could not stand it from an opposition-man--but saints may do
much!"

He is a professed personal friend of Mr. Pitt.

I then began some exculpation of my late fatigues, assuring him
they were the effect of a situation not understood, and not of
any hardness of heart.

"Very probably," cried he; "but I am glad you have ended them: I
applaud--I honour the step you have taken.  Those who suffer, yet
still continue in fetters, I never pity;--there is a want of
integrity, as well as spirit, in such submission."

"Those they serve," cried I, "are not the persons to blame; they
are commonly uninformed there is anything to endure, and believe
all is repaid by the smiles so universally solicited."

"I know it," cried he; "and it is that general base subservience
that makes me struck with your opposite conduct."

"My conduct," quoth I, "was very simple; though I believe it did
not the less surprise; but it all consisted in not pretending,
when I found myself sinking, to be swimming."

He said many other equally good-natured things, and finished them
with "But what a pleasure it is to me to see you here in this
manner, dressed no more than other people! I have not seen you
these five years past but looking dressed out for the
Drawing-room, or something as bad!"


Page 434
                         A SUMMONS FROM THE QUEEN.

January.-I had a very civil note from Mrs. Schwellenberg telling
me that Miss Goldsworthy was ill, which made Miss Gomme necessary
to the princesses, and therefore, as Mlle. Jacobi was still lame,
her majesty wished for my attendance On Wednesday noon.  I
received this little summons with very sincere pleasure, and sent
a warm acknowledgment for its honour.  I was engaged for the
evening to Mr. Walpole, now Lord Orford, by my father, who
promised to call for me at the Queen's house.

At noon I went thither, and saw, by the carriages, their
majesties were just arrived from Windsor.  In my way upstairs I
encountered the Princess Sophia.  I really felt a pleasure at her
sight, so great that I believe I saluted her ; I hardly know ;
but she came forward, with her hands held out, so good humoured
and so sweetly, I was not much on my guard.  How do I wish I had
gone that moment to my royal mistress, while my mind was fully
and honestly occupied with the most warm satisfaction in being
called again into her presence!

The Princess Sophia desired me to send her Miss Gomme, whom she
said I should find in my own room.  Thither I went, and we
embraced very cordially; but she a little made me stare by
saying, "Do you sleep in your old bed?"  "No," I answered, "I go
home after dinner," and she said no more, but told me she must
have two hours conference alone with me, from the multiplicity of
things she had to discuss with me.

We parted then, and I proceeded to Mrs. Schwellenberg.  There I
was most courteously received, and told I was to go at night to
the play.  I replied I was extremely sorry, but I was engaged.
She looked deeply displeased, and I was forced to offer to send
an excuse.  Nothing, however, was settled; she went to the queen,
whither I was most eager to follow, but I depended upon her
arrangement, and could not go uncalled.

I returned to my own room, as they still call it, and Miss Gomme
and Miss Planta both came to me.  We had a long discourse upon
matters and things.  By and by Miss Gomme was called out to
Princesses Mary and Amelia; she told them who was in the old
apartment, and they instantly entered it.  Princess Mary took my
hand, and said repeatedly, "My dear Miss Burney, how glad I am to
see you again!" and the lovely little Princess Amelia kissed me
twice, with the sweetest air of


Page 435

affection.  This was a very charming meeting to me, and I
expressed my real delight in being thus allowed to come amongst
them again, in the strongest and truest terms.

I had been but a short time alone, when Westerhaults came to ask
me if I had ordered my father's carriage to bring me from the
play.  I told him I was engaged but would give up that
engagement, and endeavour to secure being fetched home after the
play.

Mrs. Schwellenberg then desired to see me.  "What you mean by
going home?" cried she, somewhat deridingly: "know you not you
might sleep here?"

I was really thunderstruck; so weak still, and so unequal as I
feel to undertake night and morning attendance, which I now saw
expected.  I was obliged, however, to comply; and I wrote a note
to Sarah, and another note to be given to my father, when he
called to take me to Lord Orford.  But I desired we might go in
chairs, and not trouble him for the carriage.

This arrangement, and my dread of an old attendance I was so
little fitted for renewing, had so much disturbed me before I was
summoned to the queen, that I appeared before her without any of
the glee and spirits with which I had originally obeyed her
commands.  I am still grieved at this circumstance, as it must
have made me seem cold and insensible to herself, when I was
merely chagrined at the peremptory mismanagement of her agent.
Mr. de Luc was with her.  She was gracious, but by no means
lively or cordial.  She was offended, probably,--and there was no
reason to wonder, and yet no means to clear away the cause.  This
gave me much vexation, and the more I felt it the less I must
have appeared to merit her condescension.

Nevertheless, after she was dressed she honoured me with a
summons to the White closet, where I presently felt as much at
home as if I had never quitted the royal residence.  She inquired
into my proceedings, and I began a little history of my
south-west tour,- which she listened to till word was brought the
king was come from the levee: dinner was then ordered, and I was
dismissed.

At our dinner, the party, in the old style, was -Mr. de Luc, Miss
Planta, Mrs. Stainforth, and Miss Gomme; Mrs. Schwellenberg was
not well enough to leave her own apartment, except to attend the
queen.  We were gay enough, I own my spirits were not very low in
finding myself a guest at that table, where


Page 436

I was so totally unfit to be at home, and whence, nevertheless,;
I should have been very much and deeply concerned to have found
myself excluded, since the displeasure of the queen could alone
have procured such a banishment.  Besides, to visit, I like the
whole establishment, however inadequate I found them for
supplying the place of all I quitted to live among them.  O, who
could succeed there?

During the dessert the Princess Elizabeth came into the T
room.  I was very glad, by this means, to see all this lovely
female tribe.  As soon as she was gone I made off to prepare for
the play, with fan, cloak-, and gloves.  At the door of my new
old room who should I encounter but Mr. Stanhope? He was all
rapture, in his old way, at the meeting, and concluded me, I
believe, reinstated.  I got off as fast as Possible, and had just
shut myself in, and him out, when I heard the voice of the king,
who passed my door to go to the dining-room.

I was quite chagrined to have left it so unseasonably, as my
whole heart yearned to see him.  He stayed but a minute, and I
heard him stop close to my door, and speak with Mr. de Luc.  The
loudness of his voice assuring me he was saying nothing he meant
to be unheard, I could not resist softly opening my door.  I
fancy he expected this, for he came up to me immediately, and
with a look of goodness almost amounting to pleasure--I believe I
may say quite--he inquired after my health, and its restoration,
and said he was very glad to see me again.  Then turning gaily to
Mr. de Luc, "And you, Mr. de Luc," he cried, "are not you, too,
very glad to see Miss Beurni again?"

I told him, very truly, the pleasure with which I had reentered
his roof.--He made me stand near a lamp, to examine me, and
pronounced upon my amended looks with great benevolence: and,
when he was walking away, said aloud to Mr. de Luc, who attended
him, "I dare say she was very willing to come!"

Our party in the box for the queen's attendants consisted of Lady
Catherine Stanhope, Miss Planta, Major Price, Greville Upton, and
Mr. Frank Upton.  The king and queen and six princesses sat
opposite.  It was to me a lovely and most charming sight.  The
Prince of Wales, and the Duke of York and his bride, with the
Duke of Clarence, sat immediately under us.  I saw the duchess
now and then, and saw that she has a very sensible and marked
countenance, but no beauty.


Page 437
She was extremely well received by the people, and smiled at in
the most pleasing manner by her opposite new relations.

At night I once more attended the queen, and it seemed as strange
to me as if I had never done it before.  The next day, Thursday,
the queen gave up the Drawing-room, on account of a hurt on her
foot.  I had the honour of another very long conference in the
White closet, in which I finished the account of my late travels,
and during which, though she was very gracious, she was far less
communicative than heretofore, saying little herself, and making
me talk almost all.  When I attended the queen again to-night,
the strangeness was so entirely worn away, that it seemed to me
as if I had never left my office! And so again on Friday morning

At noon the royal family set off for Windsor.

The queen graciously sent for me before she went, to bid me good-
bye, and condescended to thank me for my little services.  I
would have offered repetition with all my heart, but I felt my
frame unequal to such business.  Indeed I was half dead with only
two days' and nights' exertion.  'Tis amazing how I ever went
through all that is passed.


                          MR. HASTINGS'S DEFENCE.


Feb. 13.-I found a note from Mrs. Schwellenberg, with an offer of
a ticket for Mr. Hastings's trial, the next day, if I wished to
go to it.  I did wish it exceedingly, no public subject having
ever so deeply interested me; but I could not recollect any party
I could join, and therefore I proposed to Captain Phillips to
call on his Court friend, and lay before her my difficulty.  He
readily declared he would do more, for he would frankly ask her
for a ticket for himself, and stay another day, merely to
accompany me.  You know well the kind pleasure and zeal with
which he is always ready to discover and propose expedients in
distress.  His visit prospered, and we went to Westminster Hall
together.

All the managers attended at the opening, but the attendance of
all others was cruelly slack.  To hear the attack, the people
came in crowds; to hear the defence, they scarcely came in t`ete-
`a-t`etes!  'Tis barbarous there should be so much more pleasure
given by the recital of guilt than by the vindication of
innocence!

Mr. Law(354)  spoke the whole time; he made a general harangue


Page 438

in answer to the opening general harangue of Mr. Burke, and he
spoke many things that brought forward conviction in favour of
Mr. Hastings; but he was terrified exceedingly, and this timidity
Induced him to so frequently beg quarter from his antagonists,
both for any blunders and any deficiencies, that I felt angry
with even modest egotism, when I considered that it was rather
his place to come forward with the shield and armour of truth,
undaunted, and to have defied, rather than deprecated, the force
of talents when without such support.

None of the managers quitted their box, and I am uncertain
whether or not any of them saw me.  Mr. Windham, in particular, I
feel satisfied either saw me not, or was so circumstanced, as
manager, that he could not come to speak with me; for else, this
my first appearance from the parental roof under which he has so
largely contributed to replace me would have been the last time
for his dropping my acquaintance.  Mr. Sheridan I have no longer
any ambition to be noticed by; and Mr. Burke, at this place, I am
afraid I have already displeased, so unavoidably cold and frigid
did I feel myself when he came here to me formerly.  Anywhere
else, I should bound forward to meet him, with respect, and
affection, and gratitude.

In the evening I went to the queen's house.  I found Mrs,
Schwellenberg, who instantly admitted me, at cards with Mr. de
Luc.  Her reception was perfectly kind; and when I would have
given up the tickets, she told me they were the queen's, who
desired, if I wished it, I would keep them for the season.  This
was a pleasant hearing upon every account, and I came away in
high satisfaction.

A few days after, I went again to the trial, and took another
captain for my esquire--my good and ever-affectionate James.  The
Hall was still more empty, both of Lords and Commons, and of
ladies too, than the first day of this session.  I am quite
shocked at the little desire there appears to hear Mr. Hastings's
defence.


                              DIVERSE VIEWS.

When the managers entered, James presently said, "Here's Mr.
Windham coming to speak to you." And he broke from the
procession, as it was descending to its cell, to give me that
pleasure.

His inquiries about my health were not, as he said, merely common
inquiries, but, without any other answer to them than a bow, I
interrupted their course by quickly saying, "You

Page 439


have been excursioning and travelling all the world o'er since I
saw you last."

He paid me in my own coin with only a bow, hastily going back to
myself: "But your tour," he cried, "to the west, after all that-"

I saw what was following, and, again abruptly stopping him, "But
here you are returned," I cried, "to all your old labours and
toils again."

"No, no," cried he, half laughing, "not labours and toils always;
they are growing into pleasures now."

"That's being very good, very liberal, indeed," quoth I,
supposing him to mean hearing the defence made the pleasure but
he stared at me with so little concurrence, that, soon
understanding he only meant bringing their charges home to the
confusion of the culprit, I stared again a little while, and then
said, "You sometimes accuse me of being ambiguous; I think you
seem so yourself, now!"

"To nobody but you," cried he, with a rather reproachful accent.
"O, now," cried I, "you are not ambiguous, and I am all the less
pleased."

"People," cried James, bonnement, "don't like to be convinced."

"Mr. Hastings," said Mr. Windham, "does not convince, he
does not bring conviction home."

"Not to you," quoth I, returning his accent pretty fully,

"Why, true," answered he very candidly; "there may be something
in that."

"How is it all to be?" cried James.  "Is the defence to go on
long, and are they to have any evidence; or how?"

"We don't know this part of the business," said Mr. Windham,
smiling a little at such an upright downright question "it is Mr.
Hastings's affair now to settle it: however, I understand he
means to answer charge after charge as they were brought against
him, first by speeches, then by evidence: however, this is all
conjecture."



                        MR. LAW'S SPEECH DISCUSSED.

We then spoke of Mr. Law, Mr. Hastings's first counsel, and I
expressed some dissatisfaction that such attackers should not
have had abler and more equal opponents.


Page 440

"But do you not think Mr. Law spoke well?" cried he, "clear,
forcible? "

"Not forcible," cried I.  I would not say not clear.

"He was frightened," said Mr. Windham, "he might not do himself
justice.  I have heard him elsewhere, and been very well
satisfied with him; but he looked pale and alarmed, and his voice
trembled."

"I was very well content with his materials," quoth I, "which I
thought much better than the use he made of them; and once or
twice, he made an opening that, with a very little skill, might
most adroitly and admirably have raised a laugh against you all."

He looked a little askew, I must own, but he could not help
smiling. . . I gave him an instance in point, which -was the
reverse given by Mr. Law to the picture drawn by Mr. Burke of
Tamerlane, in which he said those virtues and noble qualities
bestowed upon him by the honourable manager were nowhere to be
found but on the British stage.

Now this, seriously, with a very little ingenuity, might have
placed Mr. Burke at the head of a company of comedians.  This
last notion I did not speak, however; but enough was understood,
and Mr. Windham looked straight away from me, without answering;
nevertheless, his profile, which he left me, showed much more
disposition to laugh than to be incensed.

Therefore I proceeded ; pointing out another lost opportunity
that, well saved, might have proved happily ridiculous against
them; and this was Mr. Law's description of the real state of
India, even from its first discovery by Alexander, opposed to Mr.
Burke's flourishing representation, of its golden age, its lambs
and tigers associating, etc.

Still he looked askew ; but I believe he is truth itself, for he
offered no defence, though, of course, he would not enter into
the attack. And surely at this critical period I must not spare
pointing out all he will submit to hear, on the side of a man of
whose innocence I am so fully persuaded.

"I must own, however," continued I, finding him still attentive,
though silent, "Mr. Law provoked me in one point--his apologies
for his own demerits.  Why should he contribute his humble mite
to your triumphs? and how little was it his place to extol your
superior talents, as if you were not self-sufficient enough
already, without his aid."

'Unless you had heard the speech of Mr. Law, you can hardly


Page 441

imagine with what timid flattery he mixed every exertion he
ventured to make in behalf of his client ; and I could not
forbear this little observation, because I had taken notice with
what haughty derision the managers had perceived the fears of
their importance, which were felt even by the very counsel of
their prisoner.  Mr. Windham, too, who himself never looks either
insolent or deriding, must be sure what I meant for his
associates could not include himself.  He did not, however,
perfectly welcome the remark; he still only gave me his profile,
and said not a word,-so I went on.  Mr. Hastings little thinks
what a pleader I am become in his cause, against one of his most
powerful adversaries.

"There was still another thing," quoth I, "in which I felt vexed
with Mr. Law: how could he be so weak as to beg quarter from you,
and to humbly hope that, if any mistake, any blunder, any
improvident word escaped him, you would have the indulgence to
spare your ridicule? O yes, to be sure! when I took notice at the
moment of his supplication, and before any error committed, that
every muscle of every face, amongst you was at work from the bare
suggestion."

He could not even pretend to look grave now, but, turning frankly
towards me, said, "Why, Mr. Fox most justly observed upon that
petition, that, if any man makes a blunder, a mistake, 'tis very
well to apologize: but it was singular to hear a man gravely
preparing for his blunders and mistakes, and wanting to make
terms for them beforehand."

"I like him for this," cried James again bonnement, "that he
seems so much interested for his client."

"Will you give me leave to inquire," quoth I, "one thing? You
know my old knack of asking strange questions."

He only bowed--archly enough, I assure you.
"

Did I fancy, or was it fact, that you were a flapper to Mr.
Burke, when Mr. Law charged him with disingenuity, in not having
recanted the accusation concerning Devy Sing?  He appeared to me
in much perturbation, and I thought by his see-saw he was going
to interrupt the speech: did you prevent him?"

"No, no," he answered, "I did not: I did not think him in any
danger."

He rubbed his cheek, though, as he spoke, as if he did not much
like that circumstance.  O that Mr. Burke--so great, so noble a
creature--can in this point thus have been warped.

Page 442


MR. WINDHAM ON THE FRENCH NATIONAL ASSEMBLY.

I ran off to another scene, and inquired how he had been amused
abroad, and, in particular, at the National Assembly?

"Indeed," he answered, "it was extremely curious for a short
time; but there is little variety in it, and therefore it will
not do long."

I was in a humour to be just as sincere here, as about the trial;
so you democrats must expect no better.

"I understand," quoth I, "there is a great dearth of abilities in
this new Assembly; how then should there be any variety?"

"No, I cannot say that: they do not want abilities; but they have
no opportunity to make their way."

"O!" quoth I, shaking my wise head, "abilities, real abilities,
make their own way."

"Why, that's true; but, in that Assembly, the noise, the tumult--
"

"Abilities," again quoth I, " "have power to quell noise and
tumult."

"Certainly, in general; but not in France.  These new legislative
members are so solicitous to speak, so anxious to be heard, that
they prefer uttering any tautology to listening to others; and
when once they have begun, they go on with what speed they may,
and without selection, rather than stop.  They see so many ready
to seize their first pause, they know they have so little chance
of a second hearing, that I never entered the Assembly without
being reminded of the famous old story of the man who patiently
bore hearing a tedious harangue, by saying the whole time to
himself, 'Well, well, 'tis his turn now; but let him beware how
he sneezes."'



                          "A BARBAROUS BUSINESS!"

James now again asked some question of their intentions with
regard to the progress of the trial.  He answered, "We have
nothing to do with its present state.  We leave Mr. Hastings now
to himself, and his own set.  Let him keep to his cause, and he
may say what he will.  We do not mean to interfere, nor avail
ourselves of our privileges."

Mr. Hastings was just entered; I looked down at him, and saw his
half-motion to kneel; I could not bear it, and, turning suddenly
to my neighbour, "O, Mr. Windham," I cried, "after


Page 443

all, 'tis, indeed, a barbarous business!"  This was rather
further than I meant to go, for I said it with serious
earnestness; but it was surprised from me by the emotion always
excited at sight of that unmerited humiliation.

He looked full at me upon this solemn attack, and with a look of
chagrin amounting to displeasure, saying, "It is a barbarous
business we have had to go through."

I did not attempt to answer this, for, except through the medium
of sport and raillery, I have certainly no claim upon his
patience.  But, in another moment, in a tone very flattering, he
said, "I do not understand, nor can any way imagine, how you can
have been thus perverted!"

"No, no!" quoth I, "it is you who are perverted!"

Here Mr. Law began his second oration, and Mr. Windham ran down
to his cell.  I fancy this was not exactly the conversation he
expected upon my first enlargement.  However, though it would
very seriously grieve me to hurt or offend him, I cannot refuse
my own veracity, nor Mr. Hastings's injuries, the utterance of
what I think truth.

Mr. Law was far more animated and less frightened, and acquitted
himself so as to merit almost as much `eloge as, in my opinion,
he had merited censure at the opening.  It was all in answer to
Mr. Burke's general exordium and attack.


                       DEATH OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.

Upon the day of Sir Joshua Reynolds's death(355) I was in my bed,
with two blisters, and I did not hear of it till two days after.
I shall enter nothing upon this Subject here; our current letters
mentioned the particulars, and I am not desirous to retrace them.
His loss is as universally felt as his merit is universally
acknowledged, and, joined to all public motives, I had myself
private ones of regret that cannot subside.  He was always
peculiarly kind to me, and he had worked at my deliverance from a
life he conceived too laborious for me as if I had been his own
daughter; yet, from the time of my coming forth, I only twice saw
him.  I had not recovered strength for visiting before he was
past receiving me.  I grieve inexpressibly never to have been
able to make him the small tribute of thanks for his most kind
exertions in my cause.  I little thought the second time I saw
him would be my last opportunity, and my intention was to wait
some favourable opening.


Page 444

Miss Palmer is left heiress,(356) and her unabating attendance
upon her inestimable uncle in his sickroom makes everybody
content with her great acquisition.  I am sure she loved and
admired him with all the warmth of her warm heart.  I wrote her a
few lines of condolence, and she has sent me a very kind answer.
She went immediately to the Burkes, with whom she will chiefly, I
fancy, associate.

March.-Sad for the loss of Sir Joshua, and all of us ill
ourselves, we began this month.  Upon its 3rd day was his
funeral.(357)  My dear father could not attend; but Charles was
invited and went.  All the Royal Academy, professors and
students, and all the Literary club, attended as family,
mourners.  Mr. Burke, Mr. Malone, and Mr. Metcalf, are executors.
Miss Palmer has spared nothing, either in thought or expense,
that could render the last honours splendid and grateful.  It was
a very melancholy day to us; though it had the alleviation and
softening of a letter from our dear Charlotte, promising to
arrive the next day.


              MR. WINDHAM TWITTED ON His LACK OF COMPASSION.

April 23.--I thought myself equal to again going to the
trial, which recommenced, after six or seven weeks' cessation, on
account of the judges going the circuit.  Sarah went with me: I
am now so known in the chamberlain's box that the door-keepers
and attendants make way for me without looking at my ticket.  And
to be sure, the managers on one side, and Mr. Hastings's friends
and counsel on the other, must pretty well have my face by heart.
        I have the faces of all them, most certainly, in full
mental possession; and the figures of many whose names I know not
are so familiar to my eyes, that should I chance hereafter to
meet them, I shall be apt to take them for old acquaintances.

There was again a full appearance of managers to accompany

Page 445

Mr. Burke in his entry; and again Mr. Windham quitted the
procession, as it descended to the box, and filed off to speak
with me.

He made the most earnest inquiries after the health of my dearest
father, as well as after my own.  He has all the semblance of
real regard and friendship for us, and I am given to believe he
wears no semblance that has not a real and sympathetic substance
couched beneath.  His manner instantly revived in my mind my
intent not to risk, with him, the loss of making those poor
acknowledgments for his kindness, that I so much regret omitting
to Sir Joshua Reynolds.  In return to his inquiries about my
renovating health, I answered that I had again been very ill
since I saw him last, and added, "Indeed, I believe I did not
come away too soon."

" And now," cried I, "I cannot resist giving myself the pleasure
of making my acknowledgments for what I owe to you upon this
subject.  I have been, indeed, very much obliged, by various
things that have come round to me, both to you and Sir Joshua.--O
what a loss is that!"

"What a wretched loss!" cried he: and we then united our warmest
suffrages in his favour, with our deepest regret for our
deprivation.  Here I observed poor Mr. Hastings was brought in.
I saw he was fixing him.

"And can you," I cried, fixing him, "can you have so much
compassion for one captive, and still have none for another?"

"Have you, then, still," cried he, "the same sentiments?"

"Have you," cried I, "heard all thus far of the defence, and are
you still unmoved?"

"Unmoved?" cried he, emphatically; "shall I be moved by a lion?
You see him there in a cage, and pity him; look back to when you
might have seen him with a lamb in his claws!"

I could only look dismayed for a moment.  "But, at least," I
said, "I hope what I hear is not true, though I now grow afraid
to ask?"

"If it is anything about me," he answered, "it is certainly not
true."

"I am extremely glad, indeed," cried I, "for it has been buzzed
about in the world that you were to draw up the final charge.
This I thought most cruel of all; You, who have held back all
this time--"

"Yes! pretty completely," interrupted he, laughing.


Page 446

"No, not completely," I continued; "but Yet YOU have made no
direct formal speech, nor have come forward in any positive and
formidable manner; therefore, as we have now heard all the
others, and--almost enough--"

I was obliged to stop a moment, to see how this adventurous
plainness was taken; and he really, though my manner showed me
only rallying, looked I don't know how, at such unexampled
disrespect towards his brother orators.  But I soon went quietly
on: "To come forth now, after all that has passed, with the eclat
of novelty, and,-for the most cruel part of all,--that which
cannot be answered."

"You think,"