Harry Davis also insisted on keeping me company; and he entertained me with an account of the state of affairs in Gloucester; and told me, that though he loved dancing better than any thing under heaven, and would give the world [to be of our set,] yet he would not go to the Ball to night for fifty guineas, because it was a Berkeley Ball, — and he and his family were Chestersl Soon after Dr. Wall paid me a visit, and, assuring me that nobody took cold at a review, advised me, or, rather, rioted me, to get out and go and see the Salute; and so, though I was cold and uncomfortable, rather than appear finical and fine-ladyish, I got out and was escorted across the field to the rest of the party, who stood very near Lord Berkeley, the better to see the ceremony.
Harry Davis, looking at my shoes, said I should certainly catch my death if I did not take care (for it had rained all the morning), and then put down his handkerchief for me to stand upon. I was quite ashamed of being made such a fuss with, but he compelled me to comply; and every time we moved forwards or backwards, he picked it up, and every time we stood still he put it on the ground, and insisted on my making use of it —
The men were reckoned by all the judges to go through their different manœuvres with great neatness, dexterity, and spirit. But for the firing, which always shakes my whole frame, I should think a review a sight as agreeable as it is undoubtedly grand and striking —
When we returned home we found that Mrs. Wall was still at her toilette!....
Mrs. Wall is as cavalier and easy in her actions as her husband is in words; for though she had a house full of company, several of them people of consequence, such as the Haywards and.... yet, without the least hurry or discomposure, she gave the whole day to the adornment of her person for the night.
As we found we had our time pretty much at our own disposal from the review till dinner, it was proposed to shew me the town; and so we all went in a body, attended by Harry Davis, up and down the principal streets. The city is very little worth seeing, — indeed, the Cathedral seems the only building worthy notice; there are very few good houses, and no good streets We then strolled upon the Parade at the College Green, where Richard would not be contented without handing me, as if I had been going into a carriage. And here we met Dr. Wall, Mr. Coussmaker, and Mr. Hayward, who were going to dine with Lord Berkeley and the Corps, and invited our gentlemen to accompany them. Only James accepted the offer. When we returned home, poor Harry Davis looked au desespoir; for though very intimate at Dr. Wall’s, he was obliged not to enter the house because the Berkeley party, to which the Dr belongs, were always popping in and out. When he left us, he said he was afraid he should hang himself before night. But he advised me repeatedly to see the College the next morning, to which he proposed attending us.
Mrs. Wall was still invisible; and when, at last, she appeared, she had only her hair dressed, and very extravagantly, nay, preposterously, and no cap on, or any other appearance of readiness. After slightly begging our pardons, “Tell them,” said she, to the man, “to bring in dinner directly, — for it has been waiting for me this hour.” Then, turning to Richard, with a smile of ineffable satisfaction, “How came you not to dine at the booth” [hall] “with my Lord?”
“Ma’am, I, — I rather thought, — that, as the other gentlemen went—” affectedly stammered Richard.
“Upon my word, Sir, we are much obliged to you, — but I am afraid you rather thought you was not dressed, hay, Mr. Dickey? — was not that the case?—”
Dinner was then brought in, and Richard did the honours for Dr. Wall, drinking with the ladies, helping them, and so forth.
Mrs. Wall complained bitterly that she was very backward in her dress, and feared she should not have time to be ready: the hair dresser was appointed to be with her again by o’clock. As soon as we could with decency, we all separated to beautify.
When the man came, he was seized by so many, one after another, that we almost feared we should have been obliged to give up the ball, it was so very late ere he came near us. The affair became so serious, and the waiting so alarming, lest the minuets should be over, that the party was fain to separate and go off in chairs as soon as they were ready...
Betsy and I were the last in the house; and she went off about two minutes before me. When I went down, in the hall I was met by Harry Davis — who handed me into the chair, charging me not to over-fatigue myself at the ball, because he built upon accompanying me to the College next morning, [to shew me Gloucester city, &c.]
[The minuets were nearly over.] The last minuet was by Lord Berkeley and Mrs. Yate. James immediately engaged me for country dances. Dr. Wall was so differently wigged, that I really did not know him, — and when he came and said to me, “So, Ma’am, I’m glad to see you here, — why you like coming late to these places?” — I at first took him for a stranger: and he plagued me about it all the rest of the time I remained at Gloucester, — for Mr. Coussmaker informed against me: “so you didn’t know me?” — made every third sentence.
[Adieu, my dear girl, — I must finish this expedition another time.] who came in last (because he waited for a chair), found no room at the table; and so he got behind me, and said he would wait “Not behind my chair, however,” cried I, “for I can’t bear it.”
“No, no, Dick,” cried Dr. Wall, “don’t stand behind her chair, — go to some agreeable lady.” Richard, upon my repeating the desire, [after fine speechyfying,] walked off, and got a seat behind Mrs. Wall’s, and by degrees, and her assistance, wedged himself in between her and Nancy at the top of the table, where he laughed and figured away very jocosely.
Dr. Wall, who sat next me, was mighty facetious: and he stuffed me all supper time, saying he had “given orders I should not be stinted” and conjecturing, when I refused anything, that I wanted something I could neither eat nor drink? Indeed, he scarce ever spoke to me, but with a quotation from “Tom Thumb,” or an allusion to Huncamunca.
After supper, Richard, James, Betsy, and Mrs. Wall sang some catches, indifferently enough upon the whole, though I like the voice of Richard very much on these occasions. Mr. Berkeley sometimes joined the treble part, and Dr. Wall the bass, but so ludicrously as to make me laugh immoderately. Richard gave himself a thousand droll airs, in the Italian way, squaring his elbows, making faces, heightening his eyebrows, and acting profusely —
When we were all re-arranged, and Richard again took his seat next to Mrs. Wall, the Doctor said to me, “Come, now for a little of ‘Tom Thumb;’ — come, Miss Fanny, what part will you speak? — the goose pie and half a pig? — come, you must give us something.” Upon my remonstrating, or rather, absolutely refusing, “But you must” cried he, “come, do, — else I’ll set Dick Burney upon you!”
“No, no,” cried I, “ O spare my blushes!” — and after a little further fussation, and much jocularity, he gave it up, to my great satisfaction, for, had he persisted, and made his request public, I could never have consented, [however pained by perpetual negativing].
When, at length, we thought it time to retire, Mrs. Wall rang for candles, — but upon opening the parlour door, for all us females to decamp, we all burst into a general chorus of laughter at the call for candles, for we found ourselves in broad day-light! — We therefore wished all the gentlemen good morning, and left them to their wine.
We were so little disposed for sleep, that we considered for some time whether it would be worth while or not to go at all to bed: and we all went into Mrs. Wall’s room, where we chatted and laughed, and weighed this important point; which was at length determined by our all agreeing that to change our dresses being absolutely necessary, we might as well condescend to take a nap into the bargain. Upon which consideration we bid good night to the morning, and sought to conceal ourselves from the bright glare of the obtruding sun by softly reposing our languid heads and wearied limbs on downy pillows and enervating feather-beds. We ought, perhaps, to blush at acknowledging such depravity and weakness of spirit, — yet had you seen what ghosts we looked, —
you must, at least have owned, that, from whatever cause, the effect of a blush could never be more becoming.
The gentlemen parted very soon.
* * * * * *
Dr. Wall gave us our usual serenade before we were Pressed,. and blew to us all the Country Dances we had figured in the preceding evening. We were down long before Mrs. Wall, whose toilette is an affair of moment, — though only in one sense, — for as to time, ’tis an affair of much longer duration.
As soon as we entered the room, the Doctor, seizing me, forced me to sit [close to his chair.] He was looking over Thicknesse’s Tour, — and we both went on with it, and made comments which, had the author heard, might have endangered our safety for the rest of his life.
“Pray, Miss Fanny,” cried he, “how does the Yellow lady do?”
“Yellow lady?”
“Yes, — didn’t you know your sister turned yellow while she was in Worcester?”
There was never such a man, I believe, before, for making strange speeches. He says any and every thing; but he seems so good naturedly disposed to take as well as give, that one has never any idea of being affronted by him.
Scarcely had Mrs. Wall entered the room ere she said— “But where’s Dickey? — why doesn’t he come to breakfast?” Then, ringing the bell, “Tom, go to the Inn, and tell the gentlemen we wait for them.”
An answer was brought that they were already at breakfast at the Inn, but would attend us soon.
We then talked over the ball and review, and both the Doctor and his lady pressed us to stay some time longer, in a very earnest manner, — but our going was absolutely indispensable, as my uncle had charged us by no means to stay longer than the Thursday.
“Lord! — what shall we do, when you are all gone?” cried Dr. Wall—” why, you may as well stay, — Mrs. Humphries can amuse Mr. Burney, you know.”
“How dull we shall be!” cried the affectionate wife; “I shall be ready to drown myself; — yesterday the review and the ball, and to-night nothing, only the Doctor and I! — do, Dr. Wall, let me go with the ladies just to Gorse Lawn, for a frolic!—”
The Doctor would not hear of this. “No, Mrs. Brilly, — no, my Ladyship, — you’ll fatigue yourself to death. Besides, how will you get back?”
“O! — I’ll manage that!” However, the subject was waived for the present. As soon as breakfast was over a horse was brought to the door for the Doctor to try. He mounted it immediately, and capered all round the College Green in a very laughable manner, for he made his horse dance in and out by every other tree, Hay fashion.
We sauntered about the hall and parlour till near one o’clock, expecting in vain our beaus; and Mrs. Wall perpetually exclaiming, “Lord, what can be become of Dickey? — I’m afraid the pretty creature has lost himself!”
Nancy having a visit to make to a Mrs. Barnes, proposed our then going; and Mrs. Wall said she would take the opportunity to call upon a lady who was just going to quit Gloucester: “And I hope,” cried she, “that when we return the sweet dears will have found their way to the house. I must tell you what a nice trick I served Dickey last Saturday, — ha, ha, ha! — it makes me laugh to think of it! You must know, when he was going to Cheltenham, as usual, on Saturday morning, I took it into my head to try a new horse the Doctor had bought me, and so make a visit to Cheltenham at the same time. Well, Mr. Dickey was to be my ‘squire, — so off we set, and [lively] enough we were, you may be sure. Well, we both dined at Mr. Delebere’s, and I saw that Mr. Dickey kept on his boots, — but I did not know that he intended to return with me to Gloucester that evening, for I thought it was all choice, or his custom, and he never said a word to me of having any such design. So after dinner he went to one of his schools; and in the evening I saw nothing of the gentleman, so I set off without him. — Ha, ha! — was it not a nice trick? — poor Dickey was so mad! for he had intended all along to see me home, — but how should I know that? — I can’t think why he could not as well tell me so at once.”
“Probably,” said I, “he concluded you would take it for granted.”
“Why, I did call at the Swan, where he puts up, — but he was not there, — so I came away without him. I have laughed at him about it ever since: — yet he might as well have let me know his design, — indeed, I can’t think why he did not.” A very nice trick, indeed! — and not at all by force I — What folly to talk, nay boast, of a trick, when she took such pains as to call at an inn in order to have Mr. Dickey’s company!
We all proceeded, Nancy, Betsy, Beckey, and myself to Mrs. Barnes’; and there we were scarce seated [when] we were followed by Harry Davis, who lives almost next door to her. “Mrs. Barnes,” cried he, “I hope you will admit me, for I must come to pay my compliments to the Miss Burneys.”
The ball and review, you may be sure, furnished matter sufficient for conversation. Harry Davis asked me [how I] liked the assembly?—” I can tell you,” cried he, “who you danced with.”
“I’m glad of it,” answered I, “because it will be rare news to me.”
“But I am sorry you were so late,” returned he, “ why you lost all the minuets.” So this forlorn beau, instead of hanging himself, had been enquiring into all the particulars of the ball.
In a short time we were joined by Richard, James, and Edward. Harry Davis then asked me if I would not go to see the College? I was very ready to comply, — so we all took leave of Mrs. Barnes, — a person whose name to have mentioned has occasioned my writing two words too much.
We first took a stroll in the College Green, and then Harry Davis ran to procure the keys, and get the doors open for us....
This [Cathedral, or] College, [as they call it,] is extremely well worth seeing, for its antiquity. There are many curious old monuments in it, though it by no means abounds with any of modern elegance: Cuthbert, King of the Saxons, is, I believe, the most ancient; it is a figure cut in stone, and very entire. There is another figure carved in oak and painted, of the Conqueror’s eldest son. Edward the Second has also a monument in this Cathedral. There is a good deal of painted glass remaining here, and, in particular, one whole and very large window, which is reckoned extremely curious. We went up, by terrible old steps and a crooked stair-case, to the top of the Tower..... The Tower is of very curious Gothic workmanship, and so high, that from the ground it has the appearance of fine net-work; though, when we were close to it, we should have thought such netting rather coarse, even had it come from Otaheite. We had a grand coup d’œil from the top, taking in the greatest part of the County, with some of Worcestershire. But I have seen many more beautiful views, as I think Gloucestershire a county by no means of the first class; at least, the parts round the city are not of beauty incomparable. We had a good deal of diversion, all together, while in the College, — but I have waited too long to recollect particulars.
There is a Whispering place here; — Harry Davis stayed at one end, and Richard went to the other. The latter began with—” How cursed mad Harry Davis was last night that he could not go to the ball!” and the other returned— “I am afraid Mrs. Wall is a turn-coat, and that George Berkeley has danced her to his party.”
We then took another stroll about the town, — and I saw enough of it to die contented if I never should see it again; — and then we paraded upon the College Green till we were obliged to return to dinner, when Harry Davis was fain to go to his own home. Mrs. Wall was not returned, but we found the Doctor playing upon the bassoon, and, as usual, surrounded with the Lord knows how many other instruments. He presently flung them all away — and what do you think for? — why to romp with me. I’m sure you would never have guessed that; but the less he found me inclined to this sort of sport the more determined he seemed to pursue it, and we danced round the room, Hayed in and out with the chairs, and all that, till it grew so late that he ordered dinner, saying, “Come, good folks, let’s take care of ourselves, — Mrs. Brilly is certainly run away, — we will have our dinner without further ceremony.”
We made some remonstrances, but they had no effect. In truth, I think he really did right, for she certainly ought to have been at home sooner. We had just done dinner before she made her appearance. She was extremely surprised to find how late it was, and we were all rather ashamed of our employment, and were forced to tell her that the Doctor had insisted upon our not waiting any longer. “Why, Mrs. Brilly,” cried he, “we thought you had forgot us, — and so, my Ladyships we sat down to dinner: but they have settled to fling all the fault upon me.”
“O, to be sure,” cried I, “you had nothing in the world to do with it in reality! — however, it may pass that we have but just begun, — only we’ve eat fast.”
“Very well thought of,” said he, “ but, my Ladyship, what shall I help you to?”
“Why — I don’t know,” (looking about her), “but I think here seems nothing very nice.” What an air! I rejoiced in the Doctor’s answer.
“Why, then, Mrs. Brilly, why did not you provide us something better?”
“Shall I, Ma’am,” cried Richard, “have the honour of helping you?”
This was assented to; and she then began, in a low voice, a conversation with him which lasted till he left us to go to business. I did not hear what passed, as my neighbour, Dr. Wall, employed my attention. But Nancy told me that she acquainted him she had met with George Berkeley, and could not get away from him, — and ran on with much stuff to that purpose, as if to pique Richard! but he is much too easy for her to succeed in any such attempt, — however praiseworthy the endeavour.
When Richard was gone, she grew extremely sociable with the rest of the party, particularly with James; and she was quite urgent to dissuade us from leaving Gloucester, and when she found us inexorable, she grew mad to accompany us as far as Gorse Lawn When she pressed her husband to consent, “Mrs. Brilly,” said he, “it cannot be, — you will never be ready in time, — you can’t possibly get dressed.” To this in our own minds I believe we all agreed, for a greater slave to her toilette never existed. She would not however give it up, but in a low voice desired James to speak for her. James complied, but in a very slight manner, for he is extremely cavalier with the world in general, and reserves his politesses pretty much for his favourites. The Doctor still refused his consent, and Mrs. Wall again exclaimed—” Lord, how monstrous dull we shall be! only us two! — Lord, how stupid!” Poor woman! who could deny her pity? — a wife, and the mother of three children, to be left at home and with her family! — Unhappy creature; — what an object of compassion would she think our Hetty?
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 498
