“_Dover, 9th Sept. 1799._
“Why you Fanny!—I did not intend to write you my
adventures, but to keep them for _vive voix_ on coming
to Camilla Cottage; but the nasty east wind is arrived,
to the great inconvenience of our expedition, and of my
lungs—all which circumstances put it out of my power to
visit Camilla Cottage at present, as I wished, and had
settled in my own mind to do. But let me see—where did I
leave off? I believe I have told you of my arrival here,
where, at first, I found Mr. Crewe, as you might observe
by the frank. But two days after he went to Hythe, where
he is now quartered with the Cheshire Militia corps, of
which he is Colonel.
“You may be sure that I hastened to visit the harbour and
town, which I had not seen for near thirty years * * *
Did I tell you Mr. Ryder, our Chelsea joint paymaster,
is here, and that we all dined on Wednesday with him and
his sposa, Lady Susan? a most sweet creature, handsome,
accomplished, and perfectly well-bred, with condescending
good-humour; and who sings and plays well, and in true
taste. Thursday, bad weather; but Canning came to
_Longchon_ to brighten it: and at night I read astronomy
to Mrs. Crewe, and her fair, intelligent daughter.
“On Friday, I visited with them Lady Grey, wife of the
Commander in Chief, at the Barham Down Camp. I like Lady
Grey extremely, notwithstanding she is mother of the
vehement parliamentary democrat, Mr. Grey, who is as
pleasing, they pretend, as he is violent, which makes him
doubly dangerous. She is, indeed, a charming woman, and
by everybody honoured and admired; and as she is aunt
to our ardent friend _Spotty_, the Dean of Winchester’s
daughter, I was sure to be much flattered and _fêted_
by all her family. Sir Charles’s mother, old Mrs. Grey,
now eighty-five, is a great and scientific reader and
studier; and is even yet in correspondence with Sir
Charles Blagden; who communicates to her all the new
philosophical discoveries made throughout Europe. What
a distinguished race! The democrat himself,—but for his
democracy, strikingly at their head! Mrs. Grey took to
me mightily, and would hardly let me speak to anybody
else. Saturday we visited Mr. and Lady Mary Churchill,
our close neighbours here, and old acquaintance of
mine of fifty years’ standing or more. Next day, after
church, I went with Miss Crewe and Canning—I serving for
chaperon—to visit the Shakespeare Cliff, which is a mile
and more beyond the town: and a most fatiguing clamber to
it I found! We took different roads, as our eye pointed
out the easiest paths; and, in so doing, on my being all
at once missed, Canning and Miss Crewe were so frightened
‘you can’t think!’ as Miss Larolles would say. They
concluded I had tumbled headlong down the Cliff! It has
furnished a story to every one we have seen ever since;
and that arch clever rogue, Canning, makes ample use of
it, at Walmer Castle, and elsewhere. ‘Is there any news?’
if he be asked, his ready answer is, ‘only Dr. Burney is
lost again!’
“This day, 5th September, pray mind! I went to Walmer
Castle with Mrs. and Miss Crewe, to dine with Lady Jane
Dundas—another charming creature, and one of my new
flirtations; and Mr. Pitt dined at home. And Mr. Dundas,
Mr. Ryder, Lady Susan, Miss Scott, the sister of the
Marchioness of Titchfield,[55] and Canning, were of the
party; with the Hon. Colonel Hope, Lady Jane’s brother.
What do you think of that, Ma’am? Mr. Pitt!—I liked this
cabinet dinner prodigiously. Mr. Pitt was all politeness
and pleasantly. He has won Mrs. Crewe’s, and even Miss
Crewe’s heart, by his attentions and good-humour. My
translation of the hymn, ‘Long live the Emperor Francis!’
was very well sung in duo by Lady Susan Ryder and Miss
Crewe; I joining in the chorus. Lady Jane Dundas is a
good musician, and has very good taste. I not only played
this hymn of Haydn’s setting, but Suwarrow’s March to the
great minister: and though Mr. Pitt neither knows nor
cares one farthing for flutes and fiddles, he was very
attentive; and before, and at dinner, his civility to me
was as obliging as if I had half a dozen boroughs at my
devotion; offering to me, though a great way off him, of
every dish and wine; and entering heartily into Canning’s
merry stories of my having been lost; and Mrs. Crewe’s
relation of my dolorous three sea voyages instead of
one, when I came back from Germany; all with very civil
pleasantry.
“Monday the 2d. Dine with Sir Charles Grey, and twenty
or thirty officers from the camp, for whom he keeps a
table, and is allowed ten guineas a day towards that
expense alone. Sir Charles placed me on Lady Grey’s
right hand, and took the liberty of placing himself on
mine! What do you say to that, Ma’am? You cannot imagine
how cordially and openly he talked to me on all sort of
things that occurred. I only wish he had kept his eldest
hopes in better order! However, he is a charming man;
very animated, and, for his time of life, very handsome.
To Miss Grey,[56] a very sweet girl of ten or eleven, I
gave a copy of the hymn and of the march; and made her
try them with me; much to the satisfaction of Sir Charles
and his lady. Next day, Lady Grey and her young people
came to breakfast with Mrs. Crewe; and Lord Palmerston
and his eldest son, Mr. Temple,[57] came in the evening.
Lord Palmerston is a great favourite of Mrs. Crewe; she
would have his character stand for the leading one in
the periodical works at which she wants you to preside.
Wednesday, we visited the castle at Dover, its Roman
towers, and remains, &c.
“Thursday, we go to the camp at Barham Downs, and see
Mr. Pitt at Sir Charles Grey’s. The Duke of Portland
and Lady Mary Bentinck arrive at _our_ house, where
they take up their abode. Friday, go with his Grace and
the ladies to the parade, where a _feu de joie_, by two
or three thousand militia and regulars, took place for
excellent Dutch news. After which, all but the Duke went
to the Camp to visit Mr. John Crewe, just appointed
Lieutenant-Commandant of the 9th Regiment, and going
abroad. The Duke went on horseback to Walmer Castle, and
lent me his chaise and four to follow the three ladies,
who occupied Mrs. Crewe’s demi-landau. And I dined very
comfortably and sociably with the good and gay Sir
Charles and his charming Partner, and their engaging
young folks. ’Tis a delightful family; all spirit and
agreeability. There were likewise a few select officers.
I came home alone in the Duke’s carriage and four,—in
which Canning reports I was again lost!
“Saturday we go encore to Walmer Castle; Lady Mary
Bentinck, Mrs. and Miss Crewe, in Mr. Crewe’s chaise and
four; and Mrs. Churchill and I in the Duke’s. His Grace
on horseback. The Duke of York was at the Castle; and all
were preparing for the third embarkation for Holland,
which did not take place till Sunday, the eighth; when
we were all called up at five in the morning. The three
ladies set out at six for Deal, which is just by Walmer
Castle: but the Duke, who took me in his chaise, did not
set off till between seven and eight: and we arrived just
before the first boat of transports was launched. After
seeing five or six launches, in a very high and contrary
wind, we gazers all repaired to lunch at Walmer Castle.
Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas all hurry, but all attention to
his Royal Highness the Duke of York; and to the business
of the day. But just as we were going to depart, Mr. Pitt
pressed us to stay and take a scrambling dinner, that we
might see the Duke of York himself launched. This offer
was gladly accepted.
“It was truly a scrambling dinner; his Royal Highness,
with his aides-de-camp, Lord Chatham, two or three
general officers, the Duke of Portland, Mr. Dundas and
Lady Jane, and Mrs. Crewe, filled the first table. Lady
Mary Bentinck, with her youngest brother, Lord Charles,
going also as aide-de-camp to his Royal Highness; Messrs.
Ryder and Lady Susan, Miss Scott, Canning, &c. and I,
filled the second. Canning is delightful in social
parties; full of wit and humour. The cannon on the castle
battlements of Walmer and of Deal, and those of all the
ships, to the number of at least one hundred and fifty,
were fired when his Royal Highness embarked. He looked
composed, princely, and noble. It was a very solemn and
serious operation to all but the military, who went off
in high spirits and glee; though there was a violent east
wind against them, which must oblige them to roll about
all night, if not all this following day. I pity the
sea-sickness of the fresh water sailors more than their
fighting. And so here’s my Journal for you up to this
day, 9th Sept. 1799. And take note, Lady Jane Dundas,
Lady Susan Ryder, and Lady Grey, I regard as my _bonnes
fortunes_ in this expedition. All three have pressingly
invited me to their houses in town, and begged that our
acquaintance may not drop here. And I don’t intend to be
cruel!—But _for’ll_ this, I hope to get away in a week;
for I dread letting the autumn creep on at a distance
from my own chimney corner.”
* * * * *
_“15th September, 1799._
* * * * *
“The Duke and Lady Mary left us two days after my last,
but a dinner was fixed for Messrs. Pitt, Dundas, Ryder,
and Canning, with us at Dover. Now I must give you a
little episode. Canning told me that Mr. Pitt had gotten
a telescope, constructed under the superintendence of
Herschel, which cost one hundred guineas; but that
they could make no use of it, as no one of the party
had knowledge enough that way to put it together; and,
knowing of my astronomical poem, Canning took it for
granted that I could help them. The first day I went to
Walmer Castle, I saw the instrument, and Canning put a
paper in my hand of instructions; or rather, a book, for
it consisted of twelve or fourteen pages: but before I
had read six lines, company poured in, and I re-placed
it in the drawer whence Canning had taken it; and, to
say the truth, without much reluctance; for I doubted my
competence. I therefore was very cautious not to start
the subject! but when I got to Dover, I wrote upon it
to Herschel, and received his answer just in time to
meet the Dover visit of Mr. Pitt. It was very friendly
and satisfactory, as is every thing that comes from
Herschel; I shewed it to Mr. Pitt, who read it with great
attention, and, I doubt not, intelligence.
“After discussing all the particulars concerning the
telescope, Herschel says: ‘When I learn that you are
returned to Chelsea, I shall write again on the subject
of memorandums that I made when I had the pleasure of
hearing your beautiful poetical work.’ This I did not
let Mr. Pitt see; but withdrew the letter from him
after Herschel had done speaking of the telescope,
lest it should seem that I more wished Mr. Pitt should
see Herschel’s civilities to me, than his telescopical
instructions. But Mrs. Crewe, in the course of the
evening, borrowed the letter from me, and shewed it to
Lady Jane Dundas; who read it all, and asked what the
poetical work meant. Miss Crewe smilingly explained.
“The dinner was very cheerful, you may imagine, for these
Messieurs had brought with them the important news of the
taking Seringapatam; truly gratifying to Mr. Pitt; but
doubly so to Mr. Dundas, who plans and directs all India
affairs.
“No one can be more cheerful, attentive, and polite to
ladies than Mr. Pitt; which astonishes all those who,
without seeing him, have taken for granted that he is _no
woman’s man_, but a surly churl, from the accounts of his
sarcastic enemies.
“The Major of Mr. Crewe being ill, Mr. Crewe himself
could not dine at home, being obliged to remain at
Hythe with his regiment; and, after the ladies left the
dining-room, it having been perceived that none drank
port but Mr. Pitt and I; the rest all taking claret,
which made the passing and repassing the bottle rather
awkward; I was voted into the chair at the head of the
table, _to put the bottle about!_ and that between the
first ministers, Pitt and Dundas! what ‘_only think_,’
and ‘_no notions_,’ would Miss Larolles have exclaimed!
I, so notorious for always stopping the bottle!
“When we went to the ladies, music and cheerfulness
finished the evening. The hymn and the march were not
forgotten. In talking over Pizarro, Mr. Pitt related,
very pleasantly, an amusing anecdote of a total breach of
memory in some Mrs. Lloyd, a lady, or nominal housekeeper
of Kensington Palace: ‘being in company,’ he said, ‘with
Mr. Sheridan, without recollecting him, while Pizarro was
the topic of discussion, she said to him, “And so this
fine Pizarro is printed?” “Yes, so I hear,” said Sherry.
“And did you ever in your life read such stuff?” cried
she. “Why, I believe it’s bad enough!” quoth Sherry;
“but at least, Madam, you must allow it’s very loyal.”
“Ah!” cried she, shaking her head, “loyal? You don’t know
its author so well as I do?”’
“In speaking, afterwards, of the great number of young
men who were just embarked for Holland, Miss Crewe, half
jocosely, but no doubt half seriously, said it would ruin
all the balls! for where could the poor females find
partners? ‘O,’ said Mr. Pitt, with a pretended air of
condolence, ‘you’ll have partners plenty—both Houses of
Parliament!’
“‘Besides,’ said Canning, ‘you’ll have the whole Bench of
Bishops!’
“To be sure nobody laughed! Mr. Pitt, by the way, is a
great and loud laughter at the jokes of others; but this
was so half his own, that he only made _la petite bouche_.
“Two days after all this, Mrs. and Miss Crewe brought me
on in my way home as far as Canterbury.
“Now what say you? Is this not a _belle histoire_?”
Not to break into the chain of the far too deeply interesting narrative
that must soon follow, the Doctor’s account of the Abbé de Lille and of
M. de Calonne will be here inserted, a little before its date.
_“19th Nov. 1799._
“I have been at a _dejeuné_ in the neighbourhood of
Vauxhall. Mrs. and Miss Crewe called for me, and we went
over Battersea bridge to Mr. Woodford’s; where we met
Mr. and Mrs. Windham; M. de Calonne; Beau Dillon; M. Du
Thé, secretary to Monseigneur le Comte d’Artois; Miss
Thellasson and her brother; and the Abbé de Lille. It has
been a very pleasant morning. It is now half-past five,
and I am just got home, to dine with our governor and
his lady, Sir William and Lady Fawcet, so having a few
unappropriated moments, I thought I would tell you my
morning adventure.
“We were soon hussled together, and acquainted; and the
little Abbé and I were presently _quite thick_. He is not
such a fright as I expected; having been told that he was
hideous; which, by the way, is a great advantage to any
one previous to an interview. Well, but we prevailed upon
him to repeat fragments of some of his best works—his
_Jardins_; his poem on the Imagination; his defence of
the Supreme Being, and of Religion in general, against
the Chevalier Parry’s _Guerre des Dieux, Anciens et
Moderns_; on the assassination of the Queen of France; a
parallel between Milton and Ariosto; and some others.
“His person is not very unlike little Hawkesworth’s,
though _piu brutto_; but he is so natural, cheerful,
good-humoured and animated, yet civil, that he wants no
further beauty. He repeats his verses all by memory, in a
wonderful manner. I like his style of declaiming, as much
as the substance and texture of his poetry. In discourse
he is a fair reasoner, with excellent principles, moral,
religious, and truly philosophical. He and M. de Calonne
had a debate on the character of Sieyes, which was well
supported on both sides. The Abbé thinks him without
heart, without principles, and a coward: the statesman
goes still deeper into his character, and says, what
is very likely, that he is profound and dangerous; and
that, besides his dexterity in falling upon his feet
at every revolution since the year 1789, and escaping,
though deserving, the vengeance of every party, he
hoards separate designs, which only wait opportunity
for bursting out in explosions: that he has probably
been in communication with Buonaparte in Egypt, and has
been the main-spring of that general’s return to Europe:
that the present Revolution, effected by Buonaparte, is
deeply laid; and, consequently, is likely to be more
permanently mischievous than its predecessors to the
French nation, and to humanity: that Sieyes has a great
force of self-denial, insomuch that he has not made _un
sous_ in all these Revolutions. The Queen, he says, in
her terror of this Abbé’s sinister power, had applied to
him, (Calonne,) to give Sieyes a bishopric: upon which
occasion, Calonne thought proper to remark to him, that,
though they might pass by his principles, in religion
and government, as he was always a _Frondeur_, while
he kept them to himself, he must now be counselled to
remember that his public hostility to them could be no
recommendation to church preferment; upon which Sieyes
flew out into an unqualified declaration that he wanted
no preferment; nor anything beyond what he already
possessed, which supplied him with all he required,
namely, _de quoi manger_; ‘a most dangerous independence
of defiance, in times such as these,’ said Calonne, ‘as
it endears him to the mob; for it persuades them to
believe him sincere when he declaims upon equality.’”
1799.
The Doctor then goes on, in brief but cheerful journalizing upon sundry
select dinners that had been given at the Duke of Portland’s and at
Mr. Crewe’s, for meetings with Lord Macartney, Mr. Canning, Mr. and
Mrs. Windham, Miss Hayman, Mr. Frankland, &c. &c., and then thus gaily
concludes his letter:
“My cough is better; and so am I; and, as Horace Walpole
used to say, ‘I am now at my best—for I shall never be
better!’ I work at my astronomy, polish, make notes,
&c., and often see Herschel, with whom I dearly love
to conjure—as Daddy Crisp called all commerce upon the
sciences. I review an article now and then for Griffith;
I have had a most comic letter from dear Twi.;[58] I have
gotten twenty-nine subscribers for Haydn; and to-morrow I
shall have the musical graduates to dine with me.—And now
I must run and dress.
“So here’s my history;—and so good night, and God bless
you and your Alexanders, the Great and the Little.”
Three days afterwards he writes:
“A Burney party dined with me yesterday; and we were
as merry, and laughed as bonnily as the Burneys always
do when they get together, and open their hearts, and
tell old stories, and have no fear of being quizzed by
interlopers.”
* * * * *
About this period, Dr. Burney had become extremely earnest that the
recluse of West Hamble should no longer wholly abandon her pen. He had
acquiesced in her declining a project which would have occupied, at
least involved it, in politics; for politics, save as affecting passing
events, he held, abstractedly, to be out of the province of women. To
any decided bent he would, nevertheless, have given way; but his own
native inclination led him to wish that morals and manners, as swaying
society, not as organizing difficulties of state, should employ their
faculties: and one of his most constant desires was to see the writings
of this recluse engaged by her imagination and her reflections. In
relinquishing, therefore, the more ambitious enterprise of Mrs. Crewe,
he urged the production of a pastoral tragedy, of which his daughter
had shown him the manuscript before her marriage; and which he now
pressed her to bring forth with a vivacity that would surely have
charmed her into compliance; but that a secret solicitude, a trembling
anticipation of anguish had seized so severely upon her earliest and
tenderest affections, as wholly to nullify all literary operations.
And, even yet, with what pain does she approach—perforce!—the
afflicting subject of the most heart-rending calamity that could
then befal Dr. Burney—yet which, even while thus vividly the gayest
scenes of his latter years were passing, and thus benignly for the
gratification of the Camilla-cottage Hermits, were recording, was
almost hourly, though obscurely, impending over his peace!