The 17th of July, 1786, was the day appointed by the Queen for the
entrance into her Majesty’s establishment of Dr. Burney’s second
daughter.
Mrs. Ord, the worthy and zealous friend of Dr. Burney and his family,
who, with even maternal affection, had long delighted to place the
Memorialist by the side of her own and most amiable daughter, in
chaperoning them to assemblies, or large societies; insisted upon
resigning her kind adoption at the very place where it must necessarily
cease, by being herself the convoy of the new Robe-keeper to Windsor.
Dr. Burney, therefore, made his own carriage follow that of Mrs. Ord
merely as a baggage-waggon, and to bring him afterwards back to town;
as Mrs. Ord meant to travel on from Windsor to Bath.
The serene kindness of this excellent lady, who was enchanted at this
appointment, kept up the gaiety of Dr. Burney to an height with his
satisfaction, by banishing all discourse upon the only drawbacks to his
contentment; immediate parting, and permanent separation from under his
roof.
To their no small surprise, they did not find Mrs. Delany at home; but
her lovely great niece[14] flew out, with juvenile joy, to hail the
approaching residence of the Memorialist so near to the habitation of
her aunt.
Mrs. Ord soon took leave, to proceed on her journey to Bath. Cordial
and cheering was her congratulatory shake of the hand with Dr. Burney;
but when she came to the quitting embrace with the new Windsor
resident, an involuntary check to her pleasure, at sight of the
disturbed air of its object, started into her eyes, and ran down her
cheeks. But though thus sensible to foregoing an almost continual
intercourse with a fondly favourite companion, her native equanimity of
disposition soon resumed its steadiness; for sensibility, though now
and then the excursive guest of sudden emotion, is soon chased for
something wiser, at least, if not better, when it comes not in contact
with habitual sympathies. She uttered, therefore, her kind wishes, and
auspicious auguries of royal favour, with the usual firmness of her
calm temperament; and then, with cheerful satisfaction, repaired to her
carriage.
Mrs. Delany appeared shortly afterwards, and received her guests with
an ardour as animated as that of her little niece, and nearly as
youthful. Sensibility here was the characteristic of the composition.
Untamed by age, unexhausted by calamity, it still crimsoned her pale
cheeks, still brightened, or dimmed her soft eyes, as sorrow or as joy
touched her still sensitive heart.
Delightful to Dr. Burney was the sight of her expansive pleasure;
delightful and congenial. His own ever airy spirits caught the gay
infection. He saw in it a gentle solace to every private care of his
daughter, and an augmentation of every enjoyment: while the view of
such blithe and pure hilarity, in beings so beloved and so revered,
could not but mitigate the fears, the doubts, the fond regrets that
waive over every experimental change of life to a reflecting mind.
To Mrs. Delany,—her time of life, her heart-rending recent loss of
the friend most dear to her upon earth, and the tender affection she
had conceived for the Memorialist considered—this appointment, which
brought immediately and constantly within her reach, a person, whom she
knew to be attached to her by the warmest ties of love and veneration,
seemed an event too romantic for reality; and almost she thought it,
she said, a dream.
The absence of Mrs. Delany had been occasioned by the honour of taking
an airing with her Majesty; to whom intelligence was immediately
conveyed of the arrival of the new attendant; which as immediately was
followed by a command for that attendant to mount the hill forthwith to
the Queen’s Lodge.
An abridged account of the rest of this day’s transaction will be
copied from a letter of Dr. Burney,
“TO LEMUEL SMELT, ESQ.
* * * * *
“When the summons from the Queen arrived, Mrs. Delany,
who most kindly persuaded me to remain a day or two at
Windsor, to see my daughter installed in her new office,
persuaded me to walk with her to the Lodge. The weather
was very fine, and the distance next to nothing. The
approach, nevertheless, was so formidable to the poor
new Robe-keeper, that I feared she would not be able
to get thither. She turned pale, her lips quivered, and
she found herself so faint, that it was with the utmost
difficulty she reached the portico; whence we were shewn
immediately, by one of the pages, to her stated apartment.
“This seizure was by no means from any panic at advancing
to the presence of her Majesty, for that she already
knew to be all gentleness and benignity; it was but the
aggregate of her feelings in quitting her family and
her friends; with whom she had ever lived in the most
perfect harmony, and of whose cordial affection she was
gratefully convinced.
“She had scarcely a moment to indulge in these
reflections, ere she was conducted, by a page, to her
Majesty; from whose sight she returned to me in a quarter
of an hour, quite revived; and relieved and rejoiced
me past measure by saying, that the Queen’s reception
had been so gracious, or rather so kind, as to have had
the effect of a potent cordial; a cordial, dear Sir, of
which, you may imagine, I had my full portion.
* * * * *
“After dining the next day at Mrs. Delany’s, and walking
in the evening upon the terrace, where I received
congratulatory compliments from various friends I there
met; and where I was honoured with the gracious notice
of their Majesties, and nearly a quarter of an hour’s
conversation; I called, in my way back to Mrs. Delany,
upon my daughter in her new abode; and had the happiness
to find her in recruiting spirits, and much pleased and
flattered by all that had passed during the course of
the day. And when, the following noon, I called again
to take leave ere I returned to town, I heard that she
had received visits and civilities from the whole female
household at present resident at Windsor. She likes her
apartments extremely. Her sitting room, which is large
and pleasant, is upon the lawn before the lodge, and has
in full view, but at a commodious distance, the walk
that leads to the terrace, which, of course, is gay and
thronged with company; yet never noisy, nor riotously
crowded.
“I left her with the most comforting hope that her
spirits will be soon entirely restored; for the
condescending goodness of her Majesty is so sweet and
gracious, that she is quite penetrated with reverence and
gratitude. And I have since had a completely satisfactory
letter from her, in which she says, ‘I have been told
frightful stories of the precipices and brambles I shall
find in my paths in a residence at court; but my road, on
the contrary, only grows smoother and smoother; so that,
if precipices and brambles there may be to encounter,
they have not, at least, jutted forth to terrify me on
the onset: I therefore hope that they will not occur till
I am so well aware of their danger, that I shall know how
to step aside without tumbling from one, or being torn by
the other.’
“But that which most has touched the new Robe-keeper,
is the delicacy with which her Royal Mistress, during
the first three or four days, forbore to call her into
office, though she called her into presence. It was
merely as if she had been a visitor; and one for whom the
Queen deigned herself to furnish topics of conversation;
an elegance so engaging, that it enabled the noviciate to
glide into her office gradually, and without fright or
embarrassment.
“The Princesses, also, every one of the lovely six,
come occasionally, upon various small pretences, to
her apartment, with a sweetness of speech and manner
that seems almost eager to shew her favour. The little
Princess Amelia is brought often by her nurse,[15] at her
own playful desire.
“I should make my letter of an unreasonable length,
even, dear Sir, to you, if I were to enumerate all the
flattering and encouraging things that have come to my
knowledge, not from the household only, but from many
others; all uniting to tell me, that no one speaks of
this appointment without pleasure and approbation. The
Bishop of Salisbury[16] said this to me aloud on the
terrace, the first evening; and my daughter was much
gratified by such episcopal approvance. The Bishop added
that his brother, Lord Barrington, declared there never
was any thing of the sort more peculiarly judicious than
this choice. I mention these circumstances in hopes of
exculpating you, dear Sir, in some measure, for your kind
partialities upon this event; and I will frankly add,
that though I have had the good fortune to marry to my
own contentment three of my daughters, I never gave one
of them away with the pride or the pleasure I experienced
in my gift of last Monday.”
* * * * *
Dr. Burney now felt perfectly, nay thankfully, at ease, as to the lot
of his second daughter; who was distinguished in her new abode by the
most noble benignity, and addressed even with elegance by all of the
royal race who honoured her with any notice; a graciousness which, to
Dr. Burney, in whose composition loyalty bore a most conspicuous sway,
produced an even exulting delight.
His correspondence with the new Robe-keeper was active, lively,
incessant; and he had no greater pleasure than in perusing and
answering her letters from Windsor Lodge.
As soon as it was in his power to steal a few days from his business
and from London, he accepted an invitation from Mrs. Delany to pass
them in her abode, by the express permission, or rather with the lively
approbation of the King and Queen; without which Mrs. Delany held it
utterly unbecoming to receive any guests in the house of private, but
royal hospitality, which they had consigned to her use.
The Queen, on this occasion, as on others that were similar, gave
orders that Dr. Burney should be requested to dine at the Lodge
with his daughter; to whom devolved, in the then absence of her
coadjutrix, Mrs. Schwellenberg, the office of doing the honours of a
very magnificent table. And that daughter had the happiness, at this
time, to engage for meeting her father, two of the first characters for
virtue, purity, and elegance, that she had ever known,—the exemplary
Mr. Smelt, and the nearly incomparable Mrs. Delany. There were, also,
some other agreeable people; but the spirited Dr. Burney was the
principal object: and he enjoyed himself from the gay feelings of his
contentment, as much as by the company he was enjoyed.
In the evening, when the party adjourned from the dining-room to the
parlour of the Robe-keeper, how high was the gratification of Dr.
Burney to see the King enter the apartment; and to see that, though
professedly it was to do honour to years and virtue, in fetching Mrs.
Delany himself to the Queen; which was very generally his benevolent
custom; he now superadded to that goodness the design of according an
audience to Dr. Burney; for when Mrs. Delany was preparing to attend
his Majesty, he, smilingly, made her re-seat herself, with his usual
benign consideration for her time of life; and then courteously entered
into conversation with the happy Dr. Burney.
He opened upon musical matters, with the most animated wish to hear the
sentiments of the Doctor, and to communicate his own; and the Doctor,
enchanted, was more than ready, was eager to meet these condescending
advances.
No one at all accustomed to Court etiquette could have seen him without
smiling: he was so totally unimpressed with the modes which, even in
private, are observed in the royal presence, that he moved, spoke, and
walked about the room without constraint; nay, he even debated with
the King precisely with the same frankness that he would have used with
any other gentleman, whom he had accidentally met in society.
Nevertheless, a certain flutter of spirits which always accompanies
royal interviews that are infrequent, even with those who are least
awed by them, took from him that self-possession which, in new, or
uncommon cases, teaches us how to get through difficulties of form, by
watching the manoeuvres of our neighbours. Elated by the openness and
benignity of his Majesty, he seemed in a sort of honest enchantment
that drove from his mind all thought of ceremonial; though in his usual
commerce with the world, he was scrupulously observant of all customary
attentions. But now, on the contrary, he pursued every topic that was
started till he had satisfied himself by saying all that belonged to
it; and he started any topic that occurred to him, whether the King
appeared to be ready for another, or not; and while the rest of the
party, retreating towards the wainscot, formed a distant and respectful
circle, in which the King, approaching separately and individually
those whom he meant to address, was alone wont to move, the Doctor,
quite unconsciously, came forward into the circle himself; and, wholly
bent upon pursuing whatever theme was begun, either followed the King
when he turned away, or came onward to meet his steps when he inclined
them towards some other person; with an earnestness irrepressible to go
on with his own subject; and to retain to himself the attention and the
eyes—which never looked adverse to him—of the sweet-tempered monarch.
This vivacity and this nature evidently amused the King, whose candour
and good sense always distinguished an ignorance of the routine of
forms, from the ill manners or ill-will of disrespect.
The Queen, also, with a grace all her own towards those whom she
deigned to wish to please, honoured her Robe-keeper’s apartment with
her presence on the following evening, by accompanying thither the
King; with the same sweetness of benevolence of seeking Mrs. Delany, in
granting an audience to Dr. Burney.
No one better understood conversation than the Queen, or appreciated
conversers with better judgment: gaily, therefore, she drew out, and
truly enjoyed, the flowing, unpracticed, yet always informing discourse
of Dr. Burney.