“Yes, yes,” returned Miss Bowdler, “the Present is always best!”
I just then recollected a little dispute which we had had with Mr. Rishton, on the pronunciation of some Italian words, and giving a grammar to Mr. Crispen, beg’d him to decide it.
“Look another way, my dear little Burney,” cried he, “look another way — I must take out my reading glass! — You have a natural antipathy to me, but don’t strengthen it by looking at me now!”
I was very glad when this conversation was concluded, by our being all obliged to march. We found a great deal of company, and a great deal of diversion. The sport began by an Ass Race. There were sixteen [of the long eared tribe]; some of them really ran extremely well; others were indeed truly ridiculous; but all of them diverting. Next followed a Pig Race. This was certainly cruel, for the poor animal had his tale cut to within [the length of] an inch, and then that inch was soaped. It was then let loose and made run. It was to be the property of the man who could catch it by the tale; which after many ridiculous attempts was found to be impossible, it was so very slippery. Therefore the candidates concluded this day’s sport by running for it themselves. The great Sweep Stakes of the asses were half-a-guinea; the second prize a crown, and the third half-a-crown. However, the whole of it was truly laughable.
The next Race day was not till Friday, which day was also destined to a grand Cricket Match. Mr. Rishton is a very good player; and they have an excellent ground on the Den. Two gentlemen who were to be of the match breakfasted here in the morning. They are sons of Dr. Milles, Dean of Exeter — The cricket players dined on the green, where they had a boothe erected, and a dinner from the Globe, the best Inn here, to which Mrs. Rishton added a hash, which Mr. T. Mills assured her was most excellent, for Mr. Hurrel himself eat three times of it! and that, he remarked, indisputably proved its goodness.
The Cricket Match was hardly over before the Tingmouth games began. All that was [to] be done this second day was Wrestling, a most barbarous diversion, and which I could not look on, and would not have gone to if I had not feared being thought affected. A ring was formed for the combattants by a rope [railing,] from which we stood to see the sport. The wrestler was to conquer twice, one opponent immediately after another, to entitle himself to the prize. A strong labouring man came off victorious in the first battles; but while his shins were yet bleeding, he was obliged to attack another. The hat (their gauntlet) was thrown by a servant of Mr. Colbourn’s. He was reckoned by the judges an admirable wrestler, and he very fairly beat his adversary. A sailor directly flung his hat: he was sworn friend of the defeated labourer. He entered the lists in a passion, and attacked the servant, as all the gentlemen said, very unfairly, and, while a short truce was declared for the man to have his shoe unbuckled, he very dishonourably hit him a violent blow. Upon this they both prepared for a boxing match, and were upon the point of engaging (though the whole Ring cried out “shame” upon the sailor), when Mr. Rishton inflamed with generous rage at this foul play, rushed precipitately into the Ring, and getting between the combattants, collared the sailor, declaring he should be turned out of the lists.
I am really amazed that he escaped being ill-treated; but, at the very instant, two of the young Mills ran into the Ring and catching hold of Mr. Rishton insisted on his not venturing himself against the brutality of the enraged sailor. However, he would not retire till the sailor was voted out of the lists as a foul player. Mr. Rishton then returned to us between the Mr. Mills. Every body seemed in admiration of the spirit which he exerted on this occasion.
The Tingmouth Games concluded the day after with a Rowing Match between the women of Shaldon, a fishing town on the other side of the Ting, and the fair ones of this place. For all the men are at Newfoundland every summer, and all laborious work is done by the women, who have a strength and hardiness which I have never seen before in our race.
[The following morning,] while Mrs. R. and myself were dressing, we received a very civil message from Mrs and Miss Colbourne to invite us to see the rowing in their carriage. Mrs. R. sent word that we would come to them on the Den; but afterwards we recollected that we were engaged to tea at Mrs. Phips. This put us in a dilemma; but as Mrs. Phips’s was the prior engagement, we were obliged to march to Mr. Colbourne’s coach on the Den to make our apologies. The first object I saw was Mr. Crispen. He expressed himself prodigiously charmed at seeing us. I said we were obliged [to go. He] said he had heard of our not being well—” I could ill bear,” he added, “to hear of the Lamb’s illness — but when they told me that you was not well! — I should not have been so long without seeing you, but from having had a violent cold and fever myself — [and I] thought in my confinement that one half hour’s conversation with you would completely recover me.”
“If I had known,” said I, “my miraculous power—”
“O,” cried he, taking my hand, “it is not yet too late! [If you are mercifully disposed.” — I skipt off.]
We made our apologies as well as we could, and they insisted on setting us down at Mr. Phips’, Mrs. Colbourn and Mr. Crispen on one side and we three lasses on the other. All the way we went Mr. Crispen amused himself with holding the same kind of language to me, [notwithstanding the presence of Miss Colbourne.]
The women rowed with astonishing dexterity and quickness. There were five boats of them. The prizes which they won were, shifts [with pink ribbands. Games such as these, Mr. Crispen says, ought to make future events be dated as universally from Tingmothiads as former ones were from Olympiads.]
I must now miss a whole week, having no time to recollect any thing which passed. Last Sunday Mr and Mrs. Western arrived here, to make a week’s visit. Mrs. Western is cousin to Mr. Rishton, being sister to Mr. Martin Folkes. She is infinitely the most agreeable of her family, good-tempered, lively, well-bred, and obliging. Mr. Western is a very sensible man; but has an oddity in him, which I know not how to characterize. He has a good deal of drollery; but I fancy makes a very uncomfortable companion. I think he has the remains of a very agreeable man, as strongly marked in his looks and manners, as I have ever seen the remains of a celebrated beauty visible in a countenance. He is still a young man, but has such very indifferent health, that it embitters every moment of his life. Mrs. Western was most violently in love with him when they married, though their fortunes on each side were too considerable to make either of them be styled romantic. But I think at present she seems to have the most perfect, the coldest indifference towards him that ever wife had. Mr. Western is still reckoned a very gay man, in no very constant sense of that word. He may, therefore, have trifled away her affection, while his own for her appears still continued. O, what bad policy in men, to accustom their wives to their fickleness till even their love becomes a matter of indifferency! Indeed I am sorry for them both, as each of them seem formed for [a degree] of happiness to which they really seem to deny each other. Mrs. Western has, in the politest manner, invited me to accompany Mr and Mrs. R. to Oxfordshire when they return this visit. As to Mr. Western, he and I are particularly good friends, indeed Mrs. R. and myself are as free from restraint or ceremony as before they came, for, fortunately, they neither of them have the least grain of it in their composition.
We all went on Monday evening to the sea-shore, to see the scene drawn; this is a most curious work, all done by women. They have a very long net, so considerable as to cost them thirteen or sixteen pounds. This they first draw into a boat, which they go off the shore in, and row in a kind of semicircle, till they land at some distance. All the way they spread this net, one side of which is kept above water by corks. Then they land and divide forces; half of them return to the beginning of the net, and half remain at the end; and then with amazing strength both divisions at the same time pull the net in by the two ends. Whatever fish they catch, are always encircled in the middle of the net, which comes out of the water the last; and, as they draw towards each other, they all join in getting their prey. When once they perceive t
hat there is fish in their nets, they set up a loud shout, and make an almost unintelligible noise in expressing their joy and in disputing at the same time upon their shares, and on what fish escaped them. They are all robust and well-made, and have remarkably beautiful teeth, and some of them are really very fine women. Their dress is barbarous; they have stays half-laced, and something by way of handkerchiefs about their necks; they wear one coloured flannel, or stuff petticoat; no shoes or stockings, notwithstanding the hard pebbles and stones all along the beach; and their coat is pinned up in the shape of a pair of [trousers,] leaving them wholly naked to the knee. Mr. Western declares he could not have imagined such a race of females existed in a civilized country; and had he come hither by sea, he should have almost fancied he had been cast on a newly discovered coast. They caught this evening at one time nine large salmon, a john dory, and a gurnet. On Tuesday evening we went again, and saw them catch four dozen of mackerel at a haul.
After this was over, we crosst the Ting in a ferry-boat to Shaldon, and took a most delightful walk up a high hill, from whence the prospects both by sea and land are inconceivably beautiful. We had the three dogs with us: poor Romeo is still confined, and, as he is an old dog, I fear will never recover. We returned by the same boat. The dogs have always swum across, and they jump’d into the water as usual; but the tide was very high, and we were obliged to go a quarter of a mile about before we could land. Mr. Rishton hallowed to the dogs, and whistled all the way to encourage them, however, the current was so strong at the point where we landed that they could not stem it. Mrs. Western, R., and myself walked home and left the gentlemen to watch the dogs. Tingmouth, the Newfoundland dog, after a hard struggle, by his excellent swimming, at length got safe on shore. Trump, who is a very cunning brute, found out a shorter cut, and arrived safe. His fellow spaniel, Vigo, they could see nothing of. Mr. Rishton went after him, but he did not appear all night — and the next morning we found that he was drowned! This has been a great concern to us all. The drowned spaniel cost Mr. Rishton [ ] guineas.
Yesterday was settled for a grand cricket match, but it proved so miserable a day that the gentlemen [relinquished] it.... We went out of curiosity to the beach; the sea was extremely rough, and the waves uncommonly high: as we stood looking at it, a wave came suddenly, with such amazing force, that though we all ran away full speed, Mrs. Western and Mrs. Rishton were wetted all over. I had happened to be not so near. We hurried home, and they were obliged to new dress themselves.
In the evening the Mr. Mills called to settle on to day for Cricket. They brought with them two gentlemen (who were on a visit at the Dean’s, on purpose to be of the party) Captain Saltern and Mr. Gibbs, the latter of them is esteemed one of the most learned young men alive, having won the Prize at Cambridge. Our little parlour was quite filled.
Mr. T. Mills begged me to remark the beauties of our chimney piece, on each side of which are placed, just opposite to each other, a dog and a cat. “I am sorry,” said he, “to see these animals here, for I fancy they are meant as an emblem of husband and wife. Now no two creatures disagree so much as dog and cat”— “And husband and wife?” cried I. “O, no, I beg your pardon, ma’am,” cried he, “I am only sorry these people have ill judged them so!”
To day has been but very so-so — nevertheless the Cricket match could be no longer defer’d. Mrs. Western, M. R., and I went on the Green at noon to look [on]. Mr. T. Mills, not being then engaged [in play,] met us, and got three chairs out of their booth, for us to sit without danger [of the ball.] But it was too cold to sit. Capt. Saltern and Mr. Gibbs... walked round with us. Mr. Gibbs came on my side pretending to screen me from the wind, and entered into small talk with a facility that would not have led me to supposing how high his character stood at the university. Mrs. Rishton was in one of her provoking humours. She came behind me every now and then and whispered “Fie, child!” and then shaking her head and walking off “Upon my word, the girls of this age! there is no more respect for a married woman than if — well, I’d rather be whip’d than be married, I declare! Really, Mrs. Western, we matrons are no more regarded by these chits than so many pepper-corns.” [Mr. Gibbs stared, but continued his talk.] Then in a few minutes she returned to me again, “Really, Miss Fanny Burney, I don’t know what you mean by this behaviour! O girls! girls! girls!”
When the wind grew more violent we went into the booth for shelter. Soon after Captain Saltern called out—” Take care ladies [all!” and then] hurried me suddenly out, for the cricket ball came over the booth. Mrs. Rishton, with one of her droll looks of sternness, came behind me and in a half whisper cried, “Very well, Miss Fanny Burney, very well! I shall write to Dr. Burney to-morrow morning.”
They have all diverted themselves with me, not a little, ever since, except Mr. Rishton, who does not approve [of] these sort of jokes. However, his wife sufficed for two, at least! She and Mrs. Western have talked of the Captain ever since. And Mr. Western has been very dry about the Mr. Mills. “ They are very agreeable young men,” said he, “but I think he that sat by Miss Burney (Mr. G.) is much the most agreeable. What do you think Miss Burney?”
“O yes,” answered I. Then again at supper yesterday, he said— “A very agreeable evening, upon my word, — don’t you think so, Miss Burney?” And to-day, after dinner, he said he was going to the cricket ground, to see how they went on—” I shall acquaint the gentlemen,” said he, “how industrious you all are (we were picking sea-weeds), and that tea will be made in the same corner it was yesterday — hey, Miss Burney?” [Tis quite enough to be young, my dear Susy, to be an object for gallant raillery.]
Friday, August.
We have been taking a most delightful walk on the top of the rocks and cliffs by the sea shore. Mrs. Western is so charmed with this country that she endeavours to prevail with her husband to buy an estate and reside here: indeed it is a most tempting spot.
Sunday, Aug.
Yesterday morning we went to Ugbrook the seat of Lord Clifford, about five miles from here, the gentlemen on horseback, and we three in Mr. Western’s chaise.
What is most remarkable in the House is a bed of exquisite workmanship, done under the direction of the Duchess of Norfolk. It is on a beautiful pink ground, and worked in birds and natural flowers with such glowing colours, and so exact a resemblance to nature, that it is reckoned the most finished piece of work in the kingdom.
The House is situated in a most delightful Park filled with deer. We went five miles round his lordship’s grounds, and took a view of the rocks at Chudleigh, which are the most romantic and beautiful imaginable.
This morning Mr and Mrs. Western left us, which we are all sorry for, — we passed a very gay week with them, being all of us perfectly intimate and easy. Mr. Western is really a very agreeable man, and his wife is a charming woman. Mr. Rishton is quite melancholy at their departure, as they are prodigious favourites with him. Indeed this has been the dullest day we have spent yet. Mrs. Western has very particularly repeated her invitation to me, which I fancy, as Mrs. Rishton is extremely earnest with me for it, I shall accept — [with il caro Padre’s permission.]
We seem to have quite dropt Mr. Crispen. He cannot but have perceived Mr. Rishton’s coldness, as he never calls. Mr. Rishton has an uncommon aversion to every thing that leads towards flirtation, and Mr. Crispen from being much regarded by him, [as the first man here,] is become almost odious. I fancy that his friendship for Miss Bowdler has much contributed to make Mr. Rishton dislike him. However, whenever I meet him he assures me of the constancy of his passion, though I really endeavour to shun him, to avoid Mr. Rishton’s disapprobation.
It is not possible for a man to make a better husband than Mr. Rishton does. He spends almost every moment of his time with his wife, and is all attention and kindness to her. He is reading Spencer’s “Fairy Queen” to us, in which he is extremely delicate, omitting whatever, to the poet’s great disgrace, has crept in that is improper for a woman’s ear. I receive ve
ry great pleasure from this poem, in which there is an endless fund of invention and fancy, [ingenuity and poetry.]
Mrs. R. and I study Italian together, though very slowly. Indeed we go out so much, either walking or in the whiskey, that we have hardly any time.
There are not above three houses here that have not thatched roofs. One of the three is Sir John Davy’s, which we have been to see. It is delightfully situated on the river Ting. I have heard nothing of my dear father since....
Mr. T. Mills has told Mr. Rishton that he was in the same college with my father when he was at Oxford, at the Installation, and that no man has been received with so much honour there as Dr. Burney since it was a University. Hearing Mr. Rishton name him, “Pray,” said the Dean, “are you talking of the Dr. Burney?”...
Wednesday, August.
On Monday the three brothers dined here. They are really very agreeable and amiable young men. I add the latter clause presuming upon the harmony and affection which seems to reign among them; and they appear to regard their father only as an elder brother, to whom they owe more respect but not less openness.
After dinner Mrs. R. and I took a walk, and the gentlemen went on the Den to play at quoits. We returned first, and were just seated, when we heard a rap at the parlour door. “Come in,” cried I, “whoever you are.” The door opened and Mr. Crispen entered. “Whose sweet voice bid me come in?” cried he, “May I hope that my love welcomes me?” He came immediately and drew a chair before me, as I sat on the window, and began to relate his sufferings from his long absence. I told him that I thought it rather an affront that he was alive. He complained very much of my usage of him, which he said was extremely ungenerous, as I took advantage of his fondness to treat him with cruelty. To say the truth he has of late grown rather more [gallantly courteous to me] than I wish,... having taken it into his head to pay me many compliments of too ridiculous a nature to bear writing; besides he is somewhat troublesome in taking, or rather making, perpetual opportunities of taking my hand. I was very glad that his attention was just called off, to look at a particular kind of cane, which he moved away from me to examine, as the gentlemen returned. Mr. Rishton made him a very cold bow, and the eldest Mr. Mills came and seated himself in the chair which he had left vacant, and entered into conversation with me.
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 472
