These volumes of reminiscences are misnamed journals, as they were in no wise written at, or near, the times of which Mrs. Papendiek tells us, but were begun over forty years, and end abruptly about forty-six years, after the last events chronicled in their pages. Nor was distance of time her only drawback: Mrs. Papendiek wrote to beguile her slow recovery from illness, and lost two of her children while her narrative was in progress. It is, therefore, no marvel that a general inexactitude is apparent, to all but the most general readers, throughout the whole of the book. As we have heard such readers take all they found in these volumes to be as trustworthy as Mrs. Papendiek’s recollections of the colour and fashion of her clothes, and of those of her children; of her “nice meals,” and choice bills of fare; as we have read, and cut out in amazement, a review assuming her errors concerning Fanny Burney to be facts, we take the trouble of correction. It is not worth doing unless as an exercise in the practice of Dr. Johnson’s precept of “strict attention to truth, even in the most minute particulars.”
Mrs. Papendiek’s mother kept to her German ways and German friends, with a stiffness blamed even by her own daughter, who was herself a thorough German Hausfrau. Industrious, managing, a tender mother, a kind-hearted woman, musical, fond of as much gaiety and sight-seeing as could be procured without waste of money, or neglect of her household, simple, gossiping, and credulous of gossip, without inquiry into whether or not it were true, Mrs. Papendiek does not err out of any malice, but by carelessly writing down hearsays, imperfectly remembered as to facts, and all-incoherent with dates. Her reminiscences are of small use as to English ways in her time, as much allowance must be made for the customs and modes of living of a cluster of German royal servants and their children, who mixed but imperfectly with the English domestics, and for the most part married among themselves. The book, however, presents a lively picture of the friendships and squabbles of this little clan; of their jealousies, of their struggles to rise in place, and of the kind of back-stairs gossip about royal doings which went on among them. It gives echoes from staircases and antechambers; conjectures formed behind royal backs at the dinner table, or in the “powdering closet,” and expanded by fancy into statements of fact. To read the book tires the intellect of no one, though it would exhaust the patience of many.
Nothing out of the common course of things happened to Mrs. Papendiek except her appointment to a place in the Royal Wardrobe.
On this we must quote the concluding chapter of the second volume, which is from the pen of her editor. “Not much in the way of family records remains to tell of the further life of Mrs. Papendiek, but from the few sources of information open to me I gather that she obtained the appointment at the Court of Queen Charlotte, which she held for some years, shortly after the occurrences narrated by her in the closing pages of her Memoirs.”... “ It was probably in the year 1797 or 1798, I cannot ascertain the exact date, that she was appointed Assistant Keeper of the Wardrobe, the same post as that previously held by Miss Burney, though Mrs. Papendiek did not immediately succeed her. Later on she became Reader to the Queen also.”...
We are not concerned with a readership to the Queen, which was never held by Miss Burney, nor indeed by any one except Mr. De Luc as a place classed in the Court Kalendar. Miss Burney sometimes read to the Queen; the Queen, as she liked to read aloud, sometimes read to Miss Burney; that was all. By the help of Court Kalendars, it is easy to ascertain the relative position of those in the department of the Mistress of the Robes. After the Bedchamber-Women, who were for show and state only, there came, in 1791, the year when Fanny left Windsor, the
“KEEPERS OF THE ROBES:
Mrs. Schwellenbergen.
Mrs. Frances Burney.
Assistants:
Mrs. Thielcke. Mrs. Sandys.”
The “Assistants” appear to have been rather assistants to the Keepers of the Robes, than Assistant-Keepers of Robes. At Court they were spoken of as “Wardrobe-Women,” as may be seen in Fanny’s later diaries.
Mrs. Papendiek was one of them, but her name is not to be found at all in the Court Kalendar before, or after, 1800. In that year we find her as assistant under Mrs. Thielcke.
“KEEPERS OF THE ROBES:
Mrs. Margaret Bremeyer.
Mrs. J. C. Bacmeister.
Assistants:
Mrs. Thielcke.
Mrs. Papendiek.”
Thus it was Mrs. Bac[h]meister, not Mrs. Papendiek, who held the office of Miss Burney. As Mrs. Papendiek was in place one year only, it looks as if she merely helped the others until some competent person was found. In 1801 we find that Mrs. Margaret Robinson has succeeded her, and remains on the pages of the Kalendar, until 1814, as “second assistant,” or rather second Wardrobe-woman.
The name of Miss Burney is often found on Mrs. Papendiek’s pages. It occurs for the first time when Mrs. Papendiek was a school-girl of thirteen at Streatham. She says that “in this half-year (1778) I was introduced to the neighbouring families; amongst others to the Thrales, on Streatham Common, where Dr. Johnson and Miss Burney usually resided.” She was taken from school at Christmas, 1778, but, at her own request, allowed to return for half a year, at Midsummer, 1780. She represents “the Thrales and dear old Dr. Johnson” as “pleased to have [her] back among them.”
Here occurs the following passage:
“About this time Miss Burney’s first publication made its appearance, under the title of ‘Evelina/ and Dr. Johnson introduced it to us, saying that a novel of a new character had been put into his hand, in which each of the persons introduced spoke in his or her own line, and that the moral was unobjectionable. He would, therefore, have it read, and Miss Burney, as usual, was deputed to do so. As she proceeded, Mrs. Thrale kept saying that the turn of the sentences and the general tone were familiar to her ear, and that she must find out the author. Many surmises were started, and at last Miss Burney, finding that the book met with approbation among her friends, acknowledged herself to be the authoress. Dr. Johnson obtained for her increased payment, and she then produced her ‘Cecilia,’ which I believe to be considered equally good.”
“About this time” means, according to Mrs. Papendiek’s chronology, between Midsummer and Christmas, 1780. ‘Evelina’ was published in January, 1778, and, by the Midsummer of that year, was making its way by bounds.
In July, 1778, Dr. Burney, finding that Mrs. Thrale admired that novel, told her that his Fanny, whom she barely knew, was its author. As such she was invited to visit Streatham, where she had never before been. She never read “Evelina” aloud to any one out of her own family, except to Mr. Crisp, to whom she tried to read it, but turned timid, and gave up at the end of the second volume. Even Susan, her “sole confidante,” had never heard her novel read; that however was for want of time and of privacy before its publication. She never read “Evelina” or any other book aloud at Streatham. Of this there is proof in abundance. In September, 1778, Mr. Thrale asked Fanny repeatedly to read a tragedy to him. “I told him I would as soon act to Garrick, or try attitudes to Sir Joshua Reynolds, as read to anybody at Streatham.” In February, 1782, she wishes that she could read her “Cecilia” with Susan before it was published, but “could not admit Captain Phillips (Susan’s husband), dearly as I love him; I could not, for my life, read myself to Mr. Burney (her cousin and brother-in-law), but was obliged to make Etty. It is too awkward a thing to do to any human beings but my sisters, or poor Auntys, or Kitty Cooke.” In 1785, Mrs. Delany told Queen Charlotte that Miss Burney had been reading Colman’s “Clandestine Marriage” to her. “O then,” cried the Queen, “if Miss Burney reads to you, what a pleasure you must have to make her read her own works!” Mrs. Delany laughed and exclaimed, “O Ma’am! read her own works! Your Majesty has no notion of Miss Burney! she would as soon die!” Lastly, Dr. Johnson did not procure Fanny any increase of payment for “Evelina,” nor did she ever receive any such increase. The whole narration probably arose from Mrs. Papendiek’s having so many times h
eard people say, “ How delightful it would have been, or must have been, to hear Miss Burney read her own book,” that she acquired a persuasion that she had had so great a pleasure. Mrs. Papendiek says that Mrs. Thrale noticed her as a schoolgirl, but she is singularly ill-informed about the affairs of the Thrale family. In the following narrative, which is a tissue of errors, she places the death of Mr. Thrale among the occurrences of the year 1789. He died in April, 1781, within four months of her leaving the Streatham School.
“About this time Mr. Thrale, the great porter brewer, and member for Southwark, died, leaving to his widow the brewery and;£50,000, and to each of five daughters the same sum. An Italian artist of mediocre talent taught the young ladies to sing, and for the purpose of improvement Mrs. Thrale took her three eldest daughters to Italy, leaving the two younger with Mrs. Kay and Mrs. Fry, with whom they remained until their education was completed. By agreement this man, whose name was Piozzi, met them in Italy, when a marriage took place between him and Mrs. Thrale.
“On the return of the party to England these three daughters demanded their fortunes, and Mrs. Piozzi’s finances were shaken a little by having to sell out of the funds at a great loss, and selling the brewery at a still greater. Previously to her second marriage Mrs. Piozzi had been known in the literary world. She still continued to write and to publish her writings, but they no longer carried with them the same interest. Her friends and the public ceased to respect her, and she soon fell into oblivion. Where she lived, and whether now alive or dead, I cannot tell. Her mother was a renowned classic scholar, and the daughter, when still Mrs. Thrale, the same. The latter possessed very superior abilities and great judgment; she managed her family and household with industry and economy, took the trouble of the business off Mr. Thrale’s hands, and educated her children at home. She was a religious, charitable, and good woman, and how she became infatuated with a person not even eminent in his profession, after maintaining a rectitude of conduct for so many years, is not to be defined.”
The rumours of Streatham may have magnified Mr. Thrale’s fortune, but could they have given him five, instead of four surviving daughters? He died in April, 1781. On the 24th of July, 1783, Mrs. Thrale married Piozzi in London, having previously consigned her four daughters, all of whom were under age, to the care of Miss Nicholson, a governess-chaperon. Mrs. Thrale never went to Italy before her marriage with Piozzi. The brewery was sold immediately after Mr. Thrale’s death to Mr. Barclay, at a price on which the widow was congratulated. Mrs. Thrale had written little “fugitive pieces,” but had not published any book before her marriage with Piozzi. Interest in her writings began in 1786, when, three years after her second marriage, she published her “Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson.” She withdrew from those of her friends who were intimate enough to show disapprobation of her second marriage, but, though Mrs. Papendiek does not exaggerate her decline in the opinion of many, Mrs. Piozzi was never without others to defend her, and to admire her quickness, liveliness, and showy accomplishments.
This, the last passage concerning Fanny which we shall quote, refers to her leaving the Queen’s household, and is wholly incorrect:
“What gave rise to the change was Miss Burney telling the Queen that she had written a third novel; that it would gratify her much if her Majesty would permit her to read it; that if approved her Majesty would title it, and grant Miss Burney the honour and indulgence of dedicating it to her.
“The Queen immediately replied that she could do neither, as it would not be consistent with her feelings to encourage or even sanction novel writing, particularly under her own roof.
She added that she perceived a want of cheerfulness and pleasurable attendance in Miss Burney, and always felt certain that whenever she rang her bell, the pen was laid down with regret; and that she thought Miss Burney would feel happier to resume her writing for the public than to continue in a situation that did not appear to suit her, and of which the duties were irksome and uncongenial to her. Poor thing, she bowed out; and not being in good circumstances as to pecuniary matters in her home with her father, Dr. Burney, it was a severe blow.”
As Fanny told the King, “the skeleton” of her third novel, “Camilla,”
“was formed” at Windsor, “but nothing was completed.” She began “to work it up” three years after she had left the Queen. “Camilla” was dedicated to the Queen by special permission, and presented to her by Fanny in person at Windsor. The dedication was rewarded by the “compliment” of a hundred guineas by the King and Queen, who showed the most kindly interest in the book.
It is well known that Fanny’s health failed while she was at Court. She had been long ill, and seemed to her friends to be on her way to death, when she wrote the resignation of her office. She knew the Queen to be so loath to lose her that it was two months before she had courage to give to Mrs. Schwellenberg the paper for the Queen on which she had written what she dared not speak. The Queen put every obstacle in the way of Fanny’s leaving, and there can be no doubt that had her associate, Mrs. Schwellenberg, been a sensible and agreeable woman, Fanny would have accepted the Queen’s offer to give her a holiday for rest and change of air, and withdrawn her resignation. As it was, the Queen seems to have delayed to set her free in the hope that she would retract. Her resignation was given in at the end of 1790; it was not until the 7th of July, 1791, that she was allowed to leave. Her tact, and the good feeling which prompted it, bore her through a six months’ time of trial. She succeeded in soothing the irritation of the Queen, who was, in many ways, mortified by her resignation, and who (as was afterwards shown in the case of Cornelia Knight) was by no means above bearing malice, and giving strong proofs of ill-will towards those who wounded her royal and individual self-love by leaving her service In 1791, Fanny writes, “In a long discourse upon my altered health with Mrs. De Luc, [the Queen] condescended to speak most graciously of [me], 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.’” On Fanny’s “last day of office,” she was offered (through Mrs. Schwellenberg), the head place, then held by that functionary, on its vacation “either by her retiring, or death.” What Mrs. Papendiek, who pities her, calls her “dismissal,” was her joyous departure.
That Mrs. Papendiek was far better fitted than was Fanny for the place which Fanny held, and she did not, no one can deny who reads the touching story of Mrs. Papendiek’s first satin gown. It was made — we were about to say born (being justified therein by a pathetic statement that, ten years afterwards, it was “at its last gasp”) — in January, 1782. “It was of a puce colour, trimmed with white satin, and a petticoat of the same colour to match the trimming.” In 1783, the “puce satin was new trimmed with white” as part of its wearer’s wedding outfit. In 1785, it was “trimmed with a row of flat steel down each front, the white being taken off, cap and petticoat being trimmed to match, and steel buckles on black satin shoes.” In 1788, it was worn at a dance, “with the trimmed sleeves and gauze handkerchief as before, the ends of it being fastened in front by three white satin broad straps, buckled with steel buckles.” In 1789, the puce satin was once more given white satin trimmings, with gauze. We may have overlooked other of its vicissitudes; if so, we are sorry. Wordsworth once described himself as possessing “thirteen coats of various degrees of merit? but we question whether any one of them was so meritorious as this puce satin, which we lament to say was “at its last gasp” in 1792, when the Memoirs of Mrs. Papendiek suddenly close. We feel sure, however, that the puce satin revived, and continued its useful existence in some beneficial form or other for many more years; even if it were but as a lining to some newer, but less tried and trusty garment. Had its wearer lived longer, the biography of the puce gown would have been continued, and into the accuracy of that narrative there would have been no need to inquire: so vivid is th
e memory of the heart.
The many other errors of the book are appropriately accompanied by numerous blunders in proper names, which may be due to a bad transcript of the original manuscript, to which is added a careless correction of the press. The name of the family of Sir Abraham Pitches, a Lord Mayor of London, is invariably printed Pitcher; Mr. Bromfield, surgeon to the Royal household, appears as Blomfield; Rauzzini and Pacchieroti, as Ranzini and Perchierotti. So well-known a family to Mrs. Papendiek as that of Ramus (there were five or six of them in the Court Kalendar) is everywhere transmuted into Kamus. It is lucky for Nash, the architect, that he is scarcely named, as he figures in the text and index as Sir Thomas Mash.
Mrs. Papendiek appears to have been much aggrieved by those reforms of expenses in the King’s household which, by what she herself tells us of the pay and perquisites of her own family, and by what is shown as to sinecures in the Court Kalendar, were most urgently required. Looking into the Kalendar for 1777, we find nine wet-nurses of Princes and Princesses each enjoying a pension of two hundred a year for life. There were five more royal children before the list of these payments was closed. Two hundred a year was their pension, and the pay of Fanny also; but she withdrew upon a pension of one hundred a year only. Mrs. Papendiek is of opinion that it is not improbable that Edmund Burke’s reform in the Civil List brought on a “wonderful change in our Royal household; and that this led through many trifling channels to the destruction of the French King, for in his country also the cry for economy was raised, and soon spread far and wide.” With this bit of reasoning by induction we part in amusement from “Court and Private Life in the Time of Queen Charlotte.”
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 512
