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
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 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 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 t
he 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 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.”
“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 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 th
e 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 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!”
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 571
