(1791-2.)
REGAINED LIBERTY.
[Fanny's rambling journey to the west with Mrs. Ord was a
pleasant restorative, to mind and body, and bore good fruit
hereafter in the pages, of " The Wanderer." At Bath, in the
course of this journey, she formed an acquaintance equally
interesting and unlooked-for. It was certainly singular, to use
her own words, "that the first visit I should make after leaving
the queen should be to meet the head of the opposition public,
the Duchess of Devonshire!" The famous Whig duchess was then in
her thirty-fifth year. Fanny's description of her personal
charms tallies exactly with the impression which we derive from
her portraits by Reynolds and Gainsborough: that their celebrity
was due rather to expressiveness and animation than to a
countenance regularly beautiful. But the charming duchess,
like most other people, had a skeleton in her closet.
Notwithstanding her high spirits, and "native. cheerfulness,"
"she appeared to me not happy," writes our penetrating Diarist.
What was the skeleton? Not gambling debts, although the duchess
followed the fashion of the day, and Sheridan declared that he
had handed her into her carriage when she was literally sobbing
at her losses. Fanny gives us a hint, slight but unmistakeable.
At their first meeting the duchess was accompanied by another
lady--a beautiful, alluring woman, with keen dark eyes, who
smiled, some one said, "like Circe." Lady Spencer introduced her
daughter to Miss Burney with warm pleasure, and then, "slightly
and as if unavoidably," named the beautiful enchantress--Lady
Elizabeth Foster. It is only necessary to add that in 1809, some
three years after the death of his first wife, the Duchess
Georgiana, the Duke of Devonshire married again, and his second
wife was Lady Elizabeth Foster.-ED.]
Page 411
RELEASED FROM DUTY.
Chelsea College, July.-My dear father was waiting for me in my
apartment at St. James's when their majesties and their fair
royal daughters were gone. He brought me home, and welcomed me
most sweetly. My heart was a little sad, in spite of its
contentment. My joy in quitting my place extended not to
quitting the king and queen; and the final marks of their benign
favour had deeply impressed me. My mother received me according
to my wishes, and Sarah Most cordially.
My dear James and Charles speedily came to see me; and one
precious half-day I was indulged with my kind Mr. Locke and his
Fredy. If i had been stouter and stronger in health, I should
then have been almost flightily happy; but the Weakness of the
frame still kept the rest in order. My ever-kind Miss Cambridge
was also amongst the foremost to hasten with congratulations on
my return to my old ways and to make me promise to visit
Twickenham after my projected tour with Mrs. Ord.
I could myself undertake no visiting at this time; rest and quiet
being quite essential to my recovery. But my father did the
honours for me amongst those who had been most interested in my
resignation. He called instantly upon Sir Joshua Reynolds and
Miss Palmer, and Mr. Burke; and he wrote to Mr. Walpole, Mr.
Seward, Mrs. Crewe, Mr. Windham, and my Worcester uncle. Mr.
Walpole wrote the most charming of answers, In the gallantry of
the old Court, and with all its wit, concluding with a warm
invitation to Strawberry Hill. Sir Joshua and Miss Palmer Sent me
every species of kind exultation. Mr. Burke was not in town.
Mr. Seward wrote very heartily and cordially, and came also when
my Susanna was here. Mrs. Crewe immediately pressed me to come
and recruit at Crewe Hall in Cheshire, where she promised me
repose, and good air, and good society.
A WESTERN JOURNEY: FARNHAM CASTLE.
Sidmouth, Devonshire, Monday, Aug. 1.-I have now been a week out
upon my travels, but have not had the means or the time, till
this moment, to attempt their brief recital.
Page 412
Mrs. Ord called for me about ten in the morning. I left my
dearest father with the less regret, as his own journey to Mrs.
crewe was very soon to take place. It was a terribly rainy
morning, but I was eager not to postpone the excursion. As we
travelled on towards Staines, I could scarcely divest myself of
the idea that I was but making again my usual journey to Windsor;
and I could with difficulty forbear calling Mrs. Ord Miss Planta
during the whole of that well-known road. I did not, indeed,
take her maid, who was our third in the coach, for Mr. de Luc, or
Mr. Turbulent; but the place she occupied made me think much more
of those I so long had had for my vis-`a-vis than of herself.
We went on no farther than to Bagshot: thirty miles was the
extremity of our powers; but I bore them very tolerably, though
variably. We put up at the best inn, very early, and then
inquired what we could see In the town and neighbourhood.
"Nothing!" was the concise answer of a staring maid. We
determined, therefore, to prowl to the churchyard, and read the
tombstone inscriptions: but when we asked the way, the same
woman, staring still more wonderingly, exclaimed, "Church!
There's no church nigh here!--There's the Prince Of Wales'S, just
past the turning. You may go and see that, if you will."
So on we walked towards this hunting Villa: but after toiling up
a long unweeded avenue, we had no sooner opened the gate to the
parks than a few score of dogs, which were lying in ambush, Set
Up so prodigious a variety of magnificent barkings, springing
forward at the same time, that, content with having caught a
brief view of the seat, we left them to lord it over the domain
they regarded as their own, and, with all due Submission, pretty
hastily shut the gate, without troubling them to give us another
salute. We returned to the inn, and read B---'s "Lives of the
Family of the Boyles."
Aug. 2.-We proceeded to Farnham to breakfast, and thence walked
to the castle. The Bishop of Winchester, Mrs. North. and the
whole family are gone abroad. The castle is a good old building,
with as much of modern elegance and fashion intermixed in its
alterations and fitting up as Mrs. North could possibly contrive
to weave into its ancient grandeur. . . . I wished I could have
climbed to the top of an old tower, much out of repair, but so
high, that I fancied I could thence have espied the hills of
Norrbury. However, I was ready to fall already, from only
ascending the slope to reach the castle.
Page 413
A PARTY OF FRENCH FUGITIVES.
We arrived early at Winchester; but the town was so full, as the
judges were expected next morning, that we could only get one
bed-chamber, in which Mrs. Ord, her maid, and myself reposed.
just after we had been obliged to content ourselves with this
scanty accommodation, we saw a very handsome coach and four
horses, followed by a chaise and outriders, stop at the gate, and
heard the mistress of the house declare she- could not receive
the company; and the postilions, at the same time, protested the
horses could go no farther. They inquired for fresh horses;
there were none to be had in the whole city; and the party were
all forced to remain in their carriages, without horses, at the
inn-gate, for the chance of what might pass on the road. We
asked who they were, and our pity was doubled in finding them
foreigners.
We strolled about the upper part of the city, leaving the
cathedral for the next morning. We saw a large, uniform,
handsome palace, which is called by the inhabitants "The king's
house," and which was begun by Charles II. We did not,
therefore, expect the elegant architecture of his father's days.
One part, they particularly told us, was designed for Nell Gwynn.
It was never finished, and neglect has taken place of time in
rendering it a most ruined structure, though, as it bears no
marks of antiquity, it has rather the appearance of owing its
destruction to a fire than to the natural decay of age. It is so
spacious, however, and stands so magnificently to overlook the
city, that I wish it to be completed for an hospital or
infirmary. I have written Mrs. Schwellenberg an account of its
appearance and state, which I am sure will be read by her
majesty.
When we returned to the Inn, still the poor travellers were in
the same situation: they looked so desolate, and could so
indifferently make themselves understood, that Mrs. Ord good-
naturedly invited them to drink tea with us. They most
thankfully accepted the offer, and two ladies and two gentlemen
ascended the stairs with us to our dining-room. The chaise had
the female servants.
The elder lady was so truly French--so vive and so triste in
turn--that she seemed formed from the written character of a
Frenchwoman, such, at least, as we English write them. She was
very forlorn in her air, and very sorrowful in her counte-
Page 414
nance; yet all action and gesture, and of an animation when
speaking nearly fiery in its vivacity: neither pretty nor young,
but neither ugly nor old; and her smile, which was rare, had a
finesse very engaging; while her whole demeanour announced a
person Of consequence, and all her discourse told that she was
well-informed, well-educated, and well-bred.
The other lady, whom they called mademoiselle, as the first
madame, was young, dark but clear and bright in her eyes and
complexion, though without good features, or a manner of equal
interest with the lady she accompanied. She proved, however,
sensible, and seemed happy in the general novelty around her.
She spoke English pretty well, and was admired without mercy by
the rest of the party, as a perfect mistress of the language.
The madame spoke it very ill indeed, but pleasantly.
Of the two gentlemen, one they called only monsieur, and the
other the madame addressed as her brother. The monsieur was
handsome, rather tonnish, and of the high haughty ton, and seemed
the devoted attendant or protector of the madame, who sometimes
spoke to him almost with asperity, from eagerness, and a tinge of
wretchedness and impatience, which coloured all she said; and, at
other times, softened off her vehemence with a smile the most
expressive, and which made its way to the mind immediately, by
coming with sense and meaning, and not merely from good humour
and good spirits as the more frequent smiles of happier persons.
The brother seemed lively and obliging, and entirely at the
devotion of his sister, who gave him her commands with an
authority that would not have brooked dispute.
They told us they were just come from Southampton, which they had
visited in their way from viewing the fleet at the Isle of Wight
and Portsmouth, and they meant to go on now to Bath.
We soon found they were aristocrats, which did better for them
with Mrs. Ord and me than it would have done with you republicans
of Norbury and Mickleham; yet I wish you had all met the madame,
and heard her Indignant unhappiness. They had been in England
but two months. They all evidently belonged to madame, who
appeared to me a fugitive just before the flight of the French
king,(346) or in consequence of his having been taken.
Page 415
She entered upon her wretched situation very soon, lamenting that
he was, in fact, no king, and bewailing his want of courage for
his trials. the queen she never mentioned. She spoke once or
twice of son mari, but did not say who or what he was, nor where.
"They say," she cried, "In France they have now liberty! Who has
liberty, le peuple, or the mob? Not les honn`etes gens; for
those whose principles are known to be aristocratic must fly, or
endure every danger and indignity. Ah! est-ce l`a la libert`e?"
The monsieur said he had always been the friend of liberty, such
as it was in England; but in France it was general tyranny.
"In England," he cried, "he was a true democrat, though bien
aristocrate in France."
"At least," said the poor madame, "formerly, in all the sorrows
of life, we had nos terres to which we could retire, and there
forget them, and dance, and sing, and laugh, and fling them all
aside, till forced back to Paris. But now our villas are no
protection: we may be safe, but the first offence conceived by le
peuple is certain destruction; and, without a moment's warning,
we may be forced to fly our own roofs, and see them and all we
are worth burnt before our eyes in horrible triumph."
This was all said in French. But the anguish of her Countenance
filled me with compassion, though it was scarcely possible to
restrain a smile when, the moment after, she" said she Might be
very wrong, but she hoped I would forgive her if she owned she
preferred Paris incomparably to London and pitied me very
unreservedly for never having seen that first of cities.
Her sole hope, she said, for the overthrow of that anarchy in
which the Unguarded laxity of the king had plunged the first
Country in the world,--vous me pardonnec, Mademoiselle,--was now
from the German princes, who, she flattered herself, Would rise
In their own defence.
She told me, the next moment, of les spectacles I should find at
Southampton, and asked me what she might expect at Bath of public
amusement and buildings.
I was travelling I said, for my health, and Should visit no
theatres, ball-rooms, etc., and could recommend none.
She did not seem to comprehend me; yet, in the midst of
Page 416
naming these places, she sighed as deeply from the bottom of her
heart as if she had been forswearing the world for ever in
despair. But it was necessary, , she said, when unhappy, to go
abroad the more, pour se distraire. In parting, they desired
much to renew acquaintance with us when we returned to London.
Mrs. Ord gave her direction to the monsieur, who in return, wrote
theirs--"The French ladies, NO. 30, Gerrard-street, Soho."
They stayed till our early hour Of retiring made Mrs. Ord suffer
them to go. I was uneasy to know what would become of them. I
inquired of a waiter: he unfeelingly laughed, and said, "O! they
do well enough; they've got a room." I asked if he could yet let
them have beds to stay, or horses to proceed? "No," answered he,
sneeringly: "but it don't matter for, now they've got a room,
they are as merry and capering as if they were going to dance."
just after this, Mrs. Stephenson, Mrs. Ord's maid, came running
in. "La! ma'am," she cried, "I've been so frightened, you can't
think: the French folks sent for me on purpose, to ask t'other
lady's name, they said, and they had asked William before, so
they knew it; but they said I must write it down, and where she
lived; so I was forced to write, 'Miss Burney, Chelsea,' and they
fell a smiling so at one another."
'Twas impossible to help laughing; but we desired her, in return,
to send for one of their maids and ask their names also. She
came back, and said she could not understand the maids, and so
they had called one of the gentlemen, and he had written down
"Madame la Comtesse de Menage, et Mlle. de Beaufort."
We found, afterwards, they had sat up till two in the morning,
and then procured horses and journeyed towards Oxford.
WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL.
Aug. 3.-We walked to the cathedral, and saw it completely. Part
of it remains from the original Saxon building, though neglected,
except by travellers, as the rest of the church is ample for all
uses, and alone kept in repair. The bones of eleven Saxon kings
are lodged in seven curious old chests, in which they were
deposited after being dug up and disturbed in the civil wars and
ensuing confusions. The small number of chests is owing to the
small proportion remaining of some of the skeletons, which
occasioned their being united with others.
Page 417
The Saxon characters are in many inscriptions preserved, though
in none entire. They were washing a plaster from the walls, to
discern some curious old painting, very miserable, but very
entertaining, of old legends, which some antiquaries are now
endeavouring to discover.
William of Wykham, by whom the cathedral was built in its present
form, lies buried, with his effigy and whole monument in very
fine alabaster, and probably very like, as it was done, they
aver, before he died. Its companion, equally superb, is Cardinal
Beaufort, uncle of Harry VI. William Rufus, slain in the
neighbouring forest, is buried in the old choir: his monument is
of plain stone, without any inscription or ornament, and only
shaped like a coffin. Hardyknute had a much more splendid
monument preserved for him; but Harry I. had other business to
attend, I presume, than to decorate the tomb of one brother while
despoiling of his kingdom another. An extremely curious old
chapel and monument remain of Archbishop Langton, of valuable
gothic workmanship. The altar, which is highly adorned with
gold, was protected in Cromwell's time by the address and skill
of the Winton inhabitants, who ran up a slight wall before it,
and deceived the reformists, soi-disants. I could hardly quit
this poor dear old building, so much I was interested with its
Saxon chiefs, its little queer niches, quaint images, damp cells,
mouldering walls, and mildewed pillars. One chest contains the
bones entire of Egbert, our first king. Edred, also. I
distinguished.
The screen was given to this church by King Charles, and is the
work of Inigo Jones. It is very simple in point of ornament,
very complete in taste and elegance; nevertheless, a screen of
Grecian architecture in a cathedral of gothic workmanship was
ill, I think, imagined.
STONEHENGE, WILTON, AND MILTON ABBEY.
Aug. 5.-We went to Stonehenge. Here I was prodigiously
disappointed, at first, by the huge masses of stone so
unaccountably piled at the summit of Salisbury Plain. However,
we alighted, and the longer I surveyed and considered them, the
more augmented my wonder and diminished my disappointment.
We then went on to Wilton, where I renewed my delight over the
exquisite Vandykes, and with the statues, busts, and pictures,
which again I sighingly quitted, with a longing wish
Page 418
I might ever pass under that roof time enough to see them more
deliberately. We stopped in the Hans Holbein Porch, and upon the
Inigo Jones bridge, as long as we Could stand, after standing and
staring and straining our eyes till our guide was quite fatigued.
'Tis a noble collection; and how might it be enjoyed if, as an
arch rustic Old labouring man told u, fine folks lived as they
ought to do!
Sunday, Aug. 7.-After an early dinner we set off for Milton
Abbey, the seat of Lord Milton, partly constructed from the old
abbey and partly new. There is a magnificent gothic hall in
excellent preservation, of evident Saxon workmanship, and
extremely handsome, though not of the airy beauty of the chapel.
The situation of this abbey is truly delicious: it is in a vale
of extreme fertility and richness, surrounded by hills of the
most exquisite form, and mostly covered with hanging woods, but
so varied in their growth and groups, that the eye is perpetually
fresh caught with objects of admiration. 'Tis truly a lovely
place.
LYME AND SIDMOUTH.
Aug. 8.-We proceeded to Bridport, a remarkably clean town, with
the air so clear and pure, it seemed a new climate. Hence we set
out, after dinner, for Lyme, and the road through which we
travelled is the most beautiful to which my wandering destinies
have yet sent me. It is diversified with all that can compose
luxuriant scenery, and with just as much of the approach to
sublime as is in the province of unterrific beauty. The hills
are the highest, I fancy, in the south of this county--the
boldest and noblest; the vales of the finest verdure, wooded and
watered as if only to give ideas of finished landscapes; while
the whole, from time to time, rises into still superior grandeur,
by openings between the heights that terminate the View With the
Splendour of the British channel.
There was no going on in the carriage through such enchanting
scenes; we got out upon the hills, and walked till we could walk
no longer. The descent down to Lyme is uncommonly steep; and
indeed is very striking, from the magnificence of the ocean that
washes its borders. Chidiock and Charmouth, two villages between
Bridport and Lyme, are the very prettiest I have ever seen.
During the whole of this post I was fairly taken away, not only
from the world but from myself, and completely wrapped up and
engrossed by the
Page 419
pleasures, wonders, and charms of animated nature, thus seen in
fair perfection. Lyme. however, brought me to myself; for the
part by the sea, where we fixed our abode, was so dirty and fishy
that I rejoiced when we left it.
Aug. 9.- We travelled to Sidmouth. And here we have taken up our
abode for a week. It was all devoted to rest and sea-air.
Sidmouth is built in a vale by the sea-coast, and the terrace for
company is nearer to the ocean than any I have elsewhere seen,
and therefore both more pleasant and more commodious. The little
bay is of a most peaceful kind, and the sea was as calm and
gentle as the Thames. I longed to bathe, but I am in no state
now to take liberties with myself, and, having no advice at hand,
I ran no risk.
SIDMOUTH LOYALTY.
Nothing has given me so much pleasure since I came to this place
as our landlady's account of her own and her town's loyalty. She
is a baker, a poor widow woman, she told us, who lost her husband
by his fright in thinking he saw a ghost, just after her mother
was drowned. She carries on the business, with the help of her
daughter, a girl about fifteen.
I inquired of her if she had seen the royal family when they
visited Devonshire? "Yes, sure, ma'am!" she cried; there was
ne'er a soul left in all this place for going Out to See 'em. My
daughter and I rode a double horse, and we went to Sir George
Young's, and got into the park, for we knew the housekeeper, and
she gave my daughter a bit to taste of the king's dinner when
they had all done, and she said she might talk on it when she was
a old woman."
I asked another good woman, who came in for some flour, if she
had been of the party? "No," she said, "she was ill, but she had
had holiday enough upon the king's recovery, for there was such a
holiday then as the like was not in all England."
"Yes, sure, ma'am," cried the poor baker-woman, "we all did our
best then for there was ne'er a town in all England like Sidmouth
for rejoicing. Why, I baked a hundred and ten penny loaves for
the poor, and so did every baker in town, and there's three, and
the gentry subscribed for it. And the gentry roasted a bullock
and cut it all up, and we all eat it, in the midst of the
rejoicing. And then we had such a fine
page 420
sermon, it made us all cry; there was a more tears shed than ever
was known, all for over-joy. And they had the king drawed, and
dressed up all in gold and laurels, and they put un in a coach
and eight horses, and carried un about; and all the grand
gentlemen in the town, and all abouts, come in their own
carriages to join. And they had the finest band of music in all
England singing 'God save the king,' and every Soul joined in the
chorus, and all not so much because he was a king, but because
they said a was such a worthy gentleman, and that the like of him
was never known in this nation before: so we all subscribed for
the illuminations for that reason, some a shilling, some a
guinea, and some a penny,--for no one begrudged it, as a was such
a worthy person."
This good Mrs. Dare has purchased images of all the royal family,
in her great zeal, and I had them in my apartment--King, Queen,
Prince of Wales, Dukes of York, Clarence, Kent, Sussex,
Cumberland, and Cambridge; Princess Royal, and Princesses
Augusta, Eliza, Mary, Sophia, and Amelia, God bless them all!
POWDERHAM CASTLE AND COLLUMPTON CHURCH.
Aug. 16.-We quitted Sidmouth, and proceeded through the finest
country possible to Exmouth, to see that celebrated spot of
beauty. The next morning we crossed the Ex and visited Powderham
Castle. Its appearance, noble and antique without, loses all
that character from French finery and minute elegance and gay
trappings within. The present owner, Lord Courtney, has fitted
it up in the true Gallic taste, and every room has the air of
being ornamented for a gala. The housekeeper did not let us see
half the castle; she only took us to those rooms which the
present lord has modernized and fitted up in the sumptuous French
taste ; the old part of the castle she doubtless thought would
disgrace him; forgetting or rather never knowing--that the old
part alone was worth a traveller's curiosity, since the rest
might be anticipated by a visit to any celebrated cabinet-maker.
Thence we proceeded to Star Cross to dine; and saw on the
opposite coast the house Of Sir Francis Drake, which was built by
his famous ancestor. Here we saw a sight that reminded me of the
drawings of Webber from the South Sea Isles; women scarce clothed
at all, with feet and legs entirely naked, straw bonnets of
uncouth Shapes tied on their heads, a
Page 421
sort of man's jacket on their bodies, and their short coats
pinned up in the form of concise trousers, very succinct! and a
basket on each arm, strolling along with wide mannish strides to
the borders of the river, gathering cockles. They looked,
indeed, miserable and savage.
Hence we went, through very beautiful roads, to Exeter. That
great old city is too narrow, too populous, too dirty, and too
ill-paved, to meet with my applause. Next morning we breakfasted
at Collumpton, and visited its church. Here we saw the remains
of a once extremely rich gothic structure, though never large.
There is all the appearance of its having been the church of an
abbey before the Reformation. It is situated in a deep but most
fertile vale; its ornaments still retain so much of gilding,
painting, and antique splendour, as could never have belonged to
a mere country church. The wood carving, too, though in ruins,
is most laboriously well done; the roof worked in blue and gold,
lighter, but in the style of the royal chapel at St. James's.We
were quite surprised to find such a structure in a town so
little known or named. One aisle was added by a clothier of the
town in the reign of Edward VI.; probably upon its
first being used as a protestant and public place of worship.
This is still perfect, but very clumsy and inelegant compared
with the ancient part. The man, to show he gloried in the
honest profession whence he derived wealth for this good purpose,
has his arms at one corner, with his name, J. Lane, in gothic
characters, and on the opposite corner his image, terribly worked
in the wall, with a pair of shears in one hand, so large as to
cut across the figure downwards almost obscuring all but his
feet. Till the cicerone explained this, I took the idea for a
design of Death, placed where most conspicuously he might show
himself, ready to cut in two the poor objects that entered the
church.
GLASTONBURY ABBEY.
Aug. 19.-To vary the scenery we breakfasted at Bridgewater, in as
much dirt and noise, from the judges filling the town, as at
Taunton we had enjoyed neatness and quiet. We walked beside the
river, which is navigable from the Bristol channel ; and a stream
more muddy, and a quay more dirty and tarry and pitchy, I would
not covet to visit again. It is here called the Perrot.
Thence, however, we proceeded to what made amends
Page 422
all--the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey. These are the most elegant
remains of monkish grandeur I have ever chanced to see,--the
forms, designs, ornaments,---all that is left is in the highest
perfection of gothic beauty. Five hundred souls, the people told
us, were supported in this abbey and its cloisters.
A chapel of Joseph of Arimathea has the outworks nearly entire,
and I was quite bewitched with their antique beauty. But the
entrance into the main front of the abbey is stupendous; its
height is such that the eye aches to look up at it, though it is
now curtailed, by no part of its arch remaining except the first
inclination towards that form, which shows it to have been the
entrance. Not a bit of roof remains in any part. All the
monuments that Were not utterly decayed or destroyed have been
removed to Wells. Mere walls alone are left here, except the
monks' kitchen. This is truly curious: it is a circular
building, with a dome as high--higher I fancy--than the
Pantheon's; four immense fireplaces divide it Into four parts at
the bottom, and an oven still is visible. One statue is left in
one niche, which the people about said was of the abbot's chief
cook!
If this monastery was built by the famous old cruel hypocrite
abbot, Dunstan, I shall grieve so much taste was bestowed on such
a wretch.(347) We had only labourers for our informants. But
one boy was worth hearing: he told me there was a well of
prodigious depth, which he showed me, and this well had long been
dried up, and so covered over as to be forgotten, till his
grandfather dreamed a dream that the water of this well would
restore him from a bad state of health to good; so he dug, and
the well was found, and he drank the water and was cured! And
since then the poor came from all parts who were afflicted with
diseases, and drank the water and were cured. One woman was now
at Glastonbury to try it, and already almost well! What strange
inventions and superstitions even the ruins of what had belonged
to St. Dunstan can yet engender! The Glastonbury thorn we forgot
to ask for.
WELLS CATHEDRAL.
Hence we proceeded to Wells. Here we waited, as usual, upon the
cathedral, which received our compliments with but
Page 423
small return of civility. There was little to be seen without,
except old monuments of old abbots removed from Glastonbury, so
inferior in workmanship and design to the abbey once containing
them, that I was rather displeased than gratified
by the sight. They have also a famous clock, brought from the
abbey at Its general demolition. This exhibits a set of horses
with riders, who curvet a dance round a bell by the pulling a
string, with an agility comic enough, and fitted to serve for a
puppet-show; which, in all probability, was its design, in order
to recreate the poor monks at their hours of play.
There is also a figure of St. Dunstan, who regularly strikes the
quarters of every hour by clock-work, and who holds in his hand a
pair of tongs--the same I suppose as those with which he was wont
to pull the devil by the nose, in their nocturnal interviews.
The old castle of Wells is now the palace for the bishop. It is
moated still, and looks dreary, Secluded, and in the bad old
style.
At night, upon a deeply deliberate investigation in the medical
way, it was suddenly resolved that we should proceed to Bath
instead of Bristol, and that I should try there first the stream
of King BladUd. So now, at this moment, here we are.
BATH REVISITED.
Queen Square, Bath, Aug. 20.--Bath is extremely altered since
I last visited it. Its circumference is perhaps trebled but its
buildings are so unfinished, so spread, so everywhere beginning
and nowhere ending, that it looks rather like a space of ground
lately fixed upon for erecting a town, than a town itself, of so
many years' duration. It is beautiful and wonderful throughout.
The hills are built up and down, and the vales so stocked with
streets and houses, that, in some places, from the ground-floor
on one side a street, you cross over to the attic of your
opposite neighbour. The white stone, where clean, has a
beautiful effect, and, even where worn, a grand one. But I must
not write a literal Bath guide, and a figurative one Anstey (348)
has all to himself. I will only tell you in brief, yet in truth,
it looks a city of palaces, a town of hills, and a hill of towns.
Page 424
O how have I thought, in patrolling it, Of my poor Mrs, Thrale!
I went to look (and sigh at the sight) at the house on the North
parade where we dwelt, and almost every Old place brings to my
mind some scene in which we were engaged. Besides the constant
sadness of all recollections that bring fresh to my thoughts a
breach with a friend once so loved, how are most of the families
altered and dispersed in these absent ten Years! From Mrs.
Montagu's, Miss Gregory by a marriage disapproved, is removed for
ever; from Mrs. Cholmley's, by the severer blow of death, Lady
Mulgrave is separated; Mrs. Lambart, by the same blow, has lost
the brother, Sir Philip Clerke, who brought us to her
acquaintance; Mr. Bowdler and his excellent eldest daughter have
yielded to the same stroke; Mrs. Byron has followed. Miss Leigh
has been married and widowed; Lord Mulgrave has had the same hard
lot; and, besides these, Mrs. Cotton, Mrs. Thrale's aunt, Lady
Miller, and Mr. Thrale himself, are no more.
A VISIT FROM LADY SPENCER.
Aug. 31.-I found I had no acquaintance here, except Mr.
Harrington, who is ill, Mrs. Hartley, who is too lame for
visiting, and the Vanbrughs; and though Mrs. Ord, from her
frequent residence here, knows many of the settled inhabitants,
she has kindly complied with my request of being dispensed from
making new visits.
Soon after we came, while I was finishing some letters, and quite
alone, Mrs. Ord's servant brought me word Lady Spencer would ask
me how I did, if I was well enough to receive her. Of course I
begged she might come up-stairs. I have met her two or three
times at my dearest Mrs. Delany's, where I met, also, with marked
civilities from her. I knew she was here, with her unhappy
daughter,--Lady Duncannon,(349) whom she assiduously nurses,
aided by her more celebrated other daughter, the Duchess of
Devonshire.
She made a very flattering apology for coming, and then began to
converse upon my beloved Mrs. Delany, and thence to subjects more
general. She is a sensible and sagacious character, intelligent,
polite, and agreeable, and she spends her life in such exercises
of active charity and zeal, that she
Page 425
would be one of the most exemplary women of rank of the age, had
she less of show in her exertions, and more of forbearance in
publishing them. My dear oracle, however, once said, vainglory
must not be despised or discouraged, when it operated but as a
human engine for great or good deeds.
She spoke of Lady Duncannon's situation with much sorrow, and
expatiated upon her resignation to her fate, her prepared state
for death, and the excellence of her principles, with an
eagerness and feeling that quite overwhelmed me with surprise and
embarrassment. Her other daughter she did not mention; but her
grand-daughter, Lady Georgiana Cavendish, she spoke of with
rapture. Miss Trimmer, also, the eldest daughter of the
exceeding worthy Mrs. Trimmer, she named with a regard that
seemed quite affectionate. She told me she had the care of the
young Lady Cavendishes, but was in every respect treated as if
one of themselves.
BATH SUNDAY SCHOOLS.
The name of Mrs. Trimmer led us to talk of the Sunday schools and
Schools of Industry. They are both in a very flourishing state
at Bath, and Lady Spencer has taken one school under her own
immediate patronage. The next day, of course, I waited on her -
she was out. But the following day, which was Sunday,, she sent
me a message up-stairs to say she would take me to see the
Sunday-school, if I felt well enough to desire it. She waited
below for my answer, which, of course, I carried down in my
proper person, ready hatted and cloaked.
It was a most interesting sight. Such a number of poor innocent
children, all put into a way of right, most taken immediately
from every way of wrong, lifting Up their little hands, and
joining in those prayers and supplications for mercy and grace,
which, even if they understand not, must at least impress them
with a general idea of religion, a dread of evil, and a love of
good ; it was, indeed, a sight to expand the best hopes of the
heart.
I felt very much obliged to my noble conductress, with whom I had
much talk upon the subject in our walk back. Her own little
school, of course, engaged us the most. She told me that the
next day six of her little girls were to be new clothed, by
herself, in honour of the birthday of the Duke of Devonshire's
second daughter, Lady Harriot Cavendish, who
Page 426
was to come to her grandmamma's house to see the
ceremony. To this sight she also Invited me, and I accepted her
kindness with pleasure.
The following day, therefore, Monday, I obeyed Lady Spencer's
time, and at six o'clock was at her house in Gay-street. Lady
Spencer had Mrs. Mary Pointz and Miss Trimmer with her; and the
six children, just prepared for Lady Harriot, in their new gowns,
were dismissed from their examination, upon my arrival, and sent
down-stairs to Wait the coming of her little ladyship, who,
having dined with her mamma, was later than her appointment.
Lady Georgiana is just eight Years old. She has a fine,
animated, sweet, and handsome countenance, and the form and
figure of a girl of ten or twelve years of age. Lady Harriot,
who this day was six Years old, is by no means so handsome, but
has an open and pleasing countenance, and a look of the most
happy disposition. Lady Spencer brought her to me immediately.
I inquired after the young Marquis of Hartington. Lady Spencer
told me they never trusted him from the Upper walks, near his
house, in Marlborough-buildings. He has a house of his own near
the duke's, and a carriage entirely to himself; but YOU will see
the necessity of these appropriations, when I remind You he is
now fourteen months old.
Lady Spencer had now a lottery--without blanks, you Will suppose-
-of playthings and toys for the children. She distributed the
prizes, and Lady Duncannon held the tickets. During this entered
Lord Spencer, the son of Lady Spencer, who was here only for
three days, to see his sister Duncannon. They had all dined with
the little Lady Harriot. The duke is now at Chatsworth, in
Derbyshire.
I thought of Lord Spencer's kindness to Charles, and I
recollected he was a favourite of Mr. Windham. I saw him,
therefore, with very different ideas to those raised by the sight
of his poor sister Duncannon, to whom he made up with every mark
of pitying affection; she, meanwhile, receiving him with the most
expressive pleasure, though nearly silent. I could not help
feeling touched, in defiance of all obstacles.
Presently followed two ladies. Lady Spencer, with a look and
manner warmly announcing pleasure in what she was doing, then
introduced me to the first of them, saying, "Duchess of
Devonshire, Miss Burney."
She made me a very civil compliment upon hoping my
Page 427-
health was recovering, and Lady Spencer then, shortly, and as if
unavoidably, said, "Lady Elizabeth Foster."
I have neglected to mention, in its place, that the six poor
little girls had a repast in the garden, and Lady Georgiana
earnestly begged leave to go down and see and speak with them.
She applied to Lady Spencer. "O grandmamma," she cried, "pray
let me go! Mamma says it all depends upon you." The duchess
expressed some fear lest there might be any illness or disorder
among the poor things: Lady Spencer answered for them; and Lady
Georgiana, with a sweet delight, flew down into the garden, all
the rest accompanying, and Lady Spencer and the duchess soon
following. It was a beautiful sight, taken in all its
dependencies, from the windows. Lord Spencer presently joined
them,
GEORGIANA, DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE
To return to the duchess. I did not find so much beauty in her
as I expected, notwithstanding the variations of accounts; but I
found far more of manner, politeness, and gentle quiet. She
seems by nature to possess the highest animal spirits, but she
appeared to me not happy. I thought she looked oppressed within,
though there is a native cheerfulness about her which I fancy
scarce ever deserts her. There is in her face, especially when
she speaks, a sweetness of good-humour and obligingness, that
seem to be the natural and instinctive qualities of her
disposition; joined to an openness of countenance that announces
her endowed, by nature, with a character intended wholly for
honesty, fairness, and good purposes.
She now conversed with me wholly, and in so soberly sensible and
quiet a manner, as I had imagined incompatible with her powers.
Too much and too little credit have variously been given her.
About me and my health she was more civil than I can well tell
you; not from prudery--I have none, in these records, methinks!-
-but from its being mixed into all that passed. We talked over
my late tour, Bath waters, and the king's illness. This, which
was led to by accident, was here a tender Subject, considering
her heading the Regency squadron; however, I have only one line
to pursue, and from that I can never vary. I spoke of my own
deep distress from his sufferings without reserve, and of the
distress of the queen with the most avowed compassion and
respect. She was extremely well-bred in all she said herself,
and seemed willing
Page 428
to keep up the subject. I fancy no one has just in the same way
treated it with her grace before; however, she took all in good
part, though to have found me retired in discontent had perhaps
been more congenial to her. But I have been sedulous to make
them all know the contrary. Nevertheless, as I am eager to be
considered apart from all party, I was much pleased, after all
this, to have her express herself very desirous to keep up Our
acquaintance, ask many questions as to the chance of my remaining
in Bath, most politely hope to profit from it, and, finally,
inquire my direction.
Lady Elizabeth (Foster] has the character of being so alluring
that Mrs. Holroyd told me it was the opinion Of Mr. Gibbon no man
could withstand her, and that, if she chose to beckon the lord
chancellor from his woolsack, in full sight of the world, he
could not resist obedience!(350)
BISHOP PERCY.
Not long after our settling at Bath, I found, upon returning from
the Pump-room, cards left for me of the Bishop of Dromore (Dr.
Percy), Mrs. and the Miss Percys. I had met them formerly once
at Miss Reynolds's, and once Visited them when Dr. Percy was Dean
of Carlisle. The collector and editor of the beautiful reliques
of ancient English poetry, I could not but be happy to again see.
I returned the visit: they were out; but the bishop soon after
came when I was at home. I had a pleasant little chat with him.
The bishop is perfectly easy and unassuming, very communicative,
and, though not very entertaining because too prolix, he is
otherwise intelligent and of good commerce. Mrs. Percy is ill,
and cannot make visits, though she sends her name and receives
company at home. She is very uncultivated and ordinary in
manners and conversation, but a good creature and much delighted
to talk over the royal family, to one of whom she was formerly a
nurse.
THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE AGAIN.
Three days before we left Bath, as I was coming with Mrs. Ord
from the Pump-room, we encountered a chair from
Page 429
which a lady repeatedly kissed her hand and bowed to me. I was
too nearsighted to distinguish who she was, till, coming close,
and a little stopped by more people, she put her face to the
glass, and said "How d'ye do? How d'ye do?" and I recollected
the Duchess of Devonshire.
About an hour after I had again the honour of a visit from her,
and with Lady dowager Spencer. I was luckily at home alone, Mrs
Ord having dedicated the rest of the morning to her own visits.
I received them, therefore, with great pleasure. I now saw the
duchess far more easy and lively in her spirits, and,
consequently, far more lovely in her person. Vivacity is so much
her characteristic, that her style of beauty requires it
indispensably; the beauty, indeed, dies away without it. I now
saw how her fame for personal charms had been obtained; the
expression of her smiles is so very sweet, and has an
ingenuousness and openness so singular, that, taken in those
moments, not the most rigid critic could deny the justice of her
personal celebrity. She was quite gay, easy, and charming:
indeed, that last epithet might have been coined for her.
This has certainly been a singular acquaintance for me that the
first visit I should make after leaving the queen should be to
meet the head of the opposition public, the Duchess of
Devonshire!
DR. BURNEY'S CONVERSATION WITH MR. BURKE: REMARKS BY Miss
BURNEY.
"I [Dr. Burney] dined with Sir Joshua last week, and met Mr.
Burke, his brother, Mr. Malone, the venerable Bishop of St. Pol
de L`eonn, and a French abb`e or chevalier. I found Mr. Burke in
the room on my arrival, and after the first very cordial
civilities were over, he asked me, with great eagerness, whether
I thought he might go in his present dress to pay his respects to
Miss Burney, and was taking up his hat, till I told him you were
out of town. He imagined, I Suppose, you were in St.
Martin's-street, where he used to call upon you. In talking over
your health, the recovery of your liberty and of society, he
said, if Johnson had been alive, your history would
Page 430
have furnished him with an additional and interesting article to
his 'Vanity of Human Wishes.' He said he had never been more
mistaken in his life. He thought the queen had never behaved
more amiably, or shown more good sense, than in appropriating you
to her service; but what a service had it turned out!--a
confinement to such a companion as Mrs. Schwellenberg!--Here
exclamations of severity and kindness in turn lasted a
considerable time."
If ever I see Mr. Burke where he speaks to me upon the subject, I
will openly confide to him how impossible it was that the queen
should conceive the subserviency expected, unjustly and
unwarrantably, by Mrs. Schwellenberg: to whom I ought only to
have belonged officially, and at official hours, unless the
desire of further intercourse had been reciprocal. The queen had
imagined that a younger and more lively colleague would have made
her faithful old servant happier and that idea was merely amiable
in her majesty, who could not Suspect the misery inflicted on
that poor new colleague,
LITERARY RECREATION.
Chelsea College, October-.-I have never been so pleasantly
situated at home since I lost the sister of my heart and my most
affectionate Charlotte. My father is almost constantly Within.
Indeed, I now live with him wholly ; he has himself appropriated
me a place, a seat, a desk, a table, and every convenience and
comfort, and he never seemed yet so earnest to keep me about him.
We read together, write together,- chat, compare notes,
communicate projects, and diversify each other's employments. He
is all goodness, gaiety, and affection; and his society and
kindness are more precious to Me than ever.
Fortunately, in this season of leisure and comfort, the spirit of
composition proves active. The day is never long enough, and I
Could employ two pens almost incessantly, in my scribbling what
will not be repressed. This is a delight to my dear father
inexpressibly great and though I have gone no further than to let
him know, from time to time, the species of matter that occupies
me, he is perfectly contented, and patiently waits till something
is quite finished, before he insists upon reading a word. This
"suits my humour well," as my own industry is all gone when once
its intent is produced.
For the rest I have been going on with my third tragedy.
Page 431
I have two written, but never yet have had opportunity to read
them; which, of course, prevents their being corrected to the
best of my power, and fitted for the perusal of less indulgent
eyes; or rather of eyes less prejudiced.
Believe me, my dear friends, in the present composed and happy
state of my mind, I Could never have suggested these tales; but,
having only to correct, combine, contract, and finish, I will not
leave them undone. Not, however, to sadden myself to the same
point in which I began them, I read more than I write, and call
for happier themes from others, to enliven my mind from the
dolorous sketches I now draw of my Own.
The library or study, in which we constantly sit, supplies such
delightful variety of food, that I have nothing to wish. Thus,
my beloved sisters and friends, you see me, at length, enjoying
all that peace, ease, and chosen recreation and employment, for
which so long I sighed in vain, and which, till very lately, I
had reason to believe, even since attained, had been allowed me
too late. I am more and more thankful every night, every
morning, for the change in my destiny, and present blessings of
my lot ; and you, my beloved Susan and Fredy, for whose prayers I
have so often applied in my sadness, suffering, and despondence,
afford me now the same community of thanks and acknowledgments.
SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDs's BLINDNESS.
November.-Another evening my father took me to Sir Joshua
Reynolds. I had long languished to see that kindly zealous
friend, but his ill health had intimidated me rom making the
attempt; and now my dear father went up stairs alone, and
inquired of Miss Palmer if her uncle was well enough to admit me.
He returned for me immediately. I felt the utmost pleasure in
again mounting his staircase.
Miss Palmer hastened forward and embraced me most cordially. I
then shook hands with Sir Joshua. He had a bandage over one eye,
and the other shaded with a green halfbonnet. He seemed serious
even to sadness, though extremely kind. "I am very glad," he
said, in a meek voice and dejected accent, "to see you again, and
I wish I could see you better! but I have only one eye now,--and
hardly that."
I was really quite touched. The expectation of total blind-
Page 432
ness depresses him inexpressibly; not, however, inconceivably I
hardly knew how to express either my concern for his altered
situation since our meeting, or my joy in again being with him:
but my difficulty was short; Miss Palmer eagerly drew me to
herself, and recommended to Sir Joshua to go on with his cards.
He had no spirit to oppose; probably, indeed, no inclination.
One other time we called again, in a morning. Sir Joshua and his
niece were alone, and that invaluable man was even more dejected
than before. How grievous to me It is to see him thus
changed!(352)
AMONG OLD FRIENDS.
December.-I most gladly accepted an invitation to my good Mrs.
Ord, to meet a circle of old friends. The day proved extremely
pleasant. We went to dinner, my father and I, and met Mrs.
Montagu, in good spirits, and very unaffectedly agreeable. No
one was there to awaken ostentation, no new acquaintance to
require any surprise from her powers; she was therefore natural
and easy, as well as informing and entertaining.
Mrs. Garrick embraced me again and again, to express a
satisfaction in meeting me once more in this social way, that she
would have thought it indecorous to express by words. I thanked
her exactly in the same language ; and, without a syllable being
uttered, she said, "I rejoice you are no longer a courtier!" and
I answered, "I love you dearly for preferring me in my old
state!"
In the evening we were joined by Lady Rothes,(353) with whom I
had my peace to make for a long-neglected letter upon my
Page 433
"restoration to society," as she termed it, and who was very
lively and pleasant. . . .
Mr. Pepys, who came just at that instant from Twickenham, which
he advanced eagerly to tell me, talked of Mr. Cambridge, and his
admirable wit and spirits, and Miss Cambridge, and her fervent
friendship for me, and the charm and agreeability of the whole
house, with an ardour so rapid, there scarce needed any reply.
Mr. Batt gave me a most kindly congratulatory bow upon his
entrance. I knew his opinion of my retreat, and understood it:
but I was encircled till the concluding part of the evening by
the Pepys and Lady Rothes, etc.; and then Mr. Batt seated himself
by my elbow, and began. "How I rejoice," he cried, "to see you
at length out of thraldom!"
"Thraldom?" quoth I, "that's rather a strong word! I assure you
'tis the first time I have heard it pronounced full and plumply."
"O, but," cried he, laughing, "I may be allowed to say so,
because you know my principles. You know me to be loyal; you
could not stand it from an opposition-man--but saints may do
much!"
He is a professed personal friend of Mr. Pitt.
I then began some exculpation of my late fatigues, assuring him
they were the effect of a situation not understood, and not of
any hardness of heart.
"Very probably," cried he; "but I am glad you have ended them: I
applaud--I honour the step you have taken. Those who suffer, yet
still continue in fetters, I never pity;--there is a want of
integrity, as well as spirit, in such submission."
"Those they serve," cried I, "are not the persons to blame; they
are commonly uninformed there is anything to endure, and believe
all is repaid by the smiles so universally solicited."
"I know it," cried he; "and it is that general base subservience
that makes me struck with your opposite conduct."
"My conduct," quoth I, "was very simple; though I believe it did
not the less surprise; but it all consisted in not pretending,
when I found myself sinking, to be swimming."
He said many other equally good-natured things, and finished them
with "But what a pleasure it is to me to see you here in this
manner, dressed no more than other people! I have not seen you
these five years past but looking dressed out for the
Drawing-room, or something as bad!"
Page 434
A SUMMONS FROM THE QUEEN.
January.-I had a very civil note from Mrs. Schwellenberg telling
me that Miss Goldsworthy was ill, which made Miss Gomme necessary
to the princesses, and therefore, as Mlle. Jacobi was still lame,
her majesty wished for my attendance On Wednesday noon. I
received this little summons with very sincere pleasure, and sent
a warm acknowledgment for its honour. I was engaged for the
evening to Mr. Walpole, now Lord Orford, by my father, who
promised to call for me at the Queen's house.
At noon I went thither, and saw, by the carriages, their
majesties were just arrived from Windsor. In my way upstairs I
encountered the Princess Sophia. I really felt a pleasure at her
sight, so great that I believe I saluted her ; I hardly know ;
but she came forward, with her hands held out, so good humoured
and so sweetly, I was not much on my guard. How do I wish I had
gone that moment to my royal mistress, while my mind was fully
and honestly occupied with the most warm satisfaction in being
called again into her presence!
The Princess Sophia desired me to send her Miss Gomme, whom she
said I should find in my own room. Thither I went, and we
embraced very cordially; but she a little made me stare by
saying, "Do you sleep in your old bed?" "No," I answered, "I go
home after dinner," and she said no more, but told me she must
have two hours conference alone with me, from the multiplicity of
things she had to discuss with me.
We parted then, and I proceeded to Mrs. Schwellenberg. There I
was most courteously received, and told I was to go at night to
the play. I replied I was extremely sorry, but I was engaged.
She looked deeply displeased, and I was forced to offer to send
an excuse. Nothing, however, was settled; she went to the queen,
whither I was most eager to follow, but I depended upon her
arrangement, and could not go uncalled.
I returned to my own room, as they still call it, and Miss Gomme
and Miss Planta both came to me. We had a long discourse upon
matters and things. By and by Miss Gomme was called out to
Princesses Mary and Amelia; she told them who was in the old
apartment, and they instantly entered it. Princess Mary took my
hand, and said repeatedly, "My dear Miss Burney, how glad I am to
see you again!" and the lovely little Princess Amelia kissed me
twice, with the sweetest air of
Page 435
affection. This was a very charming meeting to me, and I
expressed my real delight in being thus allowed to come amongst
them again, in the strongest and truest terms.
I had been but a short time alone, when Westerhaults came to ask
me if I had ordered my father's carriage to bring me from the
play. I told him I was engaged but would give up that
engagement, and endeavour to secure being fetched home after the
play.
Mrs. Schwellenberg then desired to see me. "What you mean by
going home?" cried she, somewhat deridingly: "know you not you
might sleep here?"
I was really thunderstruck; so weak still, and so unequal as I
feel to undertake night and morning attendance, which I now saw
expected. I was obliged, however, to comply; and I wrote a note
to Sarah, and another note to be given to my father, when he
called to take me to Lord Orford. But I desired we might go in
chairs, and not trouble him for the carriage.
This arrangement, and my dread of an old attendance I was so
little fitted for renewing, had so much disturbed me before I was
summoned to the queen, that I appeared before her without any of
the glee and spirits with which I had originally obeyed her
commands. I am still grieved at this circumstance, as it must
have made me seem cold and insensible to herself, when I was
merely chagrined at the peremptory mismanagement of her agent.
Mr. de Luc was with her. She was gracious, but by no means
lively or cordial. She was offended, probably,--and there was no
reason to wonder, and yet no means to clear away the cause. This
gave me much vexation, and the more I felt it the less I must
have appeared to merit her condescension.
Nevertheless, after she was dressed she honoured me with a
summons to the White closet, where I presently felt as much at
home as if I had never quitted the royal residence. She inquired
into my proceedings, and I began a little history of my
south-west tour,- which she listened to till word was brought the
king was come from the levee: dinner was then ordered, and I was
dismissed.
At our dinner, the party, in the old style, was -Mr. de Luc, Miss
Planta, Mrs. Stainforth, and Miss Gomme; Mrs. Schwellenberg was
not well enough to leave her own apartment, except to attend the
queen. We were gay enough, I own my spirits were not very low in
finding myself a guest at that table, where
Page 436
I was so totally unfit to be at home, and whence, nevertheless,;
I should have been very much and deeply concerned to have found
myself excluded, since the displeasure of the queen could alone
have procured such a banishment. Besides, to visit, I like the
whole establishment, however inadequate I found them for
supplying the place of all I quitted to live among them. O, who
could succeed there?
During the dessert the Princess Elizabeth came into the T
room. I was very glad, by this means, to see all this lovely
female tribe. As soon as she was gone I made off to prepare for
the play, with fan, cloak-, and gloves. At the door of my new
old room who should I encounter but Mr. Stanhope? He was all
rapture, in his old way, at the meeting, and concluded me, I
believe, reinstated. I got off as fast as Possible, and had just
shut myself in, and him out, when I heard the voice of the king,
who passed my door to go to the dining-room.
I was quite chagrined to have left it so unseasonably, as my
whole heart yearned to see him. He stayed but a minute, and I
heard him stop close to my door, and speak with Mr. de Luc. The
loudness of his voice assuring me he was saying nothing he meant
to be unheard, I could not resist softly opening my door. I
fancy he expected this, for he came up to me immediately, and
with a look of goodness almost amounting to pleasure--I believe I
may say quite--he inquired after my health, and its restoration,
and said he was very glad to see me again. Then turning gaily to
Mr. de Luc, "And you, Mr. de Luc," he cried, "are not you, too,
very glad to see Miss Beurni again?"
I told him, very truly, the pleasure with which I had reentered
his roof.--He made me stand near a lamp, to examine me, and
pronounced upon my amended looks with great benevolence: and,
when he was walking away, said aloud to Mr. de Luc, who attended
him, "I dare say she was very willing to come!"
Our party in the box for the queen's attendants consisted of Lady
Catherine Stanhope, Miss Planta, Major Price, Greville Upton, and
Mr. Frank Upton. The king and queen and six princesses sat
opposite. It was to me a lovely and most charming sight. The
Prince of Wales, and the Duke of York and his bride, with the
Duke of Clarence, sat immediately under us. I saw the duchess
now and then, and saw that she has a very sensible and marked
countenance, but no beauty.
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She was extremely well received by the people, and smiled at in
the most pleasing manner by her opposite new relations.
At night I once more attended the queen, and it seemed as strange
to me as if I had never done it before. The next day, Thursday,
the queen gave up the Drawing-room, on account of a hurt on her
foot. I had the honour of another very long conference in the
White closet, in which I finished the account of my late travels,
and during which, though she was very gracious, she was far less
communicative than heretofore, saying little herself, and making
me talk almost all. When I attended the queen again to-night,
the strangeness was so entirely worn away, that it seemed to me
as if I had never left my office! And so again on Friday morning
At noon the royal family set off for Windsor.
The queen graciously sent for me before she went, to bid me good-
bye, and condescended to thank me for my little services. I
would have offered repetition with all my heart, but I felt my
frame unequal to such business. Indeed I was half dead with only
two days' and nights' exertion. 'Tis amazing how I ever went
through all that is passed.
MR. HASTINGS'S DEFENCE.
Feb. 13.-I found a note from Mrs. Schwellenberg, with an offer of
a ticket for Mr. Hastings's trial, the next day, if I wished to
go to it. I did wish it exceedingly, no public subject having
ever so deeply interested me; but I could not recollect any party
I could join, and therefore I proposed to Captain Phillips to
call on his Court friend, and lay before her my difficulty. He
readily declared he would do more, for he would frankly ask her
for a ticket for himself, and stay another day, merely to
accompany me. You know well the kind pleasure and zeal with
which he is always ready to discover and propose expedients in
distress. His visit prospered, and we went to Westminster Hall
together.
All the managers attended at the opening, but the attendance of
all others was cruelly slack. To hear the attack, the people
came in crowds; to hear the defence, they scarcely came in t`ete-
`a-t`etes! 'Tis barbarous there should be so much more pleasure
given by the recital of guilt than by the vindication of
innocence!
Mr. Law(354) spoke the whole time; he made a general harangue
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in answer to the opening general harangue of Mr. Burke, and he
spoke many things that brought forward conviction in favour of
Mr. Hastings; but he was terrified exceedingly, and this timidity
Induced him to so frequently beg quarter from his antagonists,
both for any blunders and any deficiencies, that I felt angry
with even modest egotism, when I considered that it was rather
his place to come forward with the shield and armour of truth,
undaunted, and to have defied, rather than deprecated, the force
of talents when without such support.
None of the managers quitted their box, and I am uncertain
whether or not any of them saw me. Mr. Windham, in particular, I
feel satisfied either saw me not, or was so circumstanced, as
manager, that he could not come to speak with me; for else, this
my first appearance from the parental roof under which he has so
largely contributed to replace me would have been the last time
for his dropping my acquaintance. Mr. Sheridan I have no longer
any ambition to be noticed by; and Mr. Burke, at this place, I am
afraid I have already displeased, so unavoidably cold and frigid
did I feel myself when he came here to me formerly. Anywhere
else, I should bound forward to meet him, with respect, and
affection, and gratitude.
In the evening I went to the queen's house. I found Mrs,
Schwellenberg, who instantly admitted me, at cards with Mr. de
Luc. Her reception was perfectly kind; and when I would have
given up the tickets, she told me they were the queen's, who
desired, if I wished it, I would keep them for the season. This
was a pleasant hearing upon every account, and I came away in
high satisfaction.
A few days after, I went again to the trial, and took another
captain for my esquire--my good and ever-affectionate James. The
Hall was still more empty, both of Lords and Commons, and of
ladies too, than the first day of this session. I am quite
shocked at the little desire there appears to hear Mr. Hastings's
defence.
DIVERSE VIEWS.
When the managers entered, James presently said, "Here's Mr.
Windham coming to speak to you." And he broke from the
procession, as it was descending to its cell, to give me that
pleasure.
His inquiries about my health were not, as he said, merely common
inquiries, but, without any other answer to them than a bow, I
interrupted their course by quickly saying, "You
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have been excursioning and travelling all the world o'er since I
saw you last."
He paid me in my own coin with only a bow, hastily going back to
myself: "But your tour," he cried, "to the west, after all that-"
I saw what was following, and, again abruptly stopping him, "But
here you are returned," I cried, "to all your old labours and
toils again."
"No, no," cried he, half laughing, "not labours and toils always;
they are growing into pleasures now."
"That's being very good, very liberal, indeed," quoth I,
supposing him to mean hearing the defence made the pleasure but
he stared at me with so little concurrence, that, soon
understanding he only meant bringing their charges home to the
confusion of the culprit, I stared again a little while, and then
said, "You sometimes accuse me of being ambiguous; I think you
seem so yourself, now!"
"To nobody but you," cried he, with a rather reproachful accent.
"O, now," cried I, "you are not ambiguous, and I am all the less
pleased."
"People," cried James, bonnement, "don't like to be convinced."
"Mr. Hastings," said Mr. Windham, "does not convince, he
does not bring conviction home."
"Not to you," quoth I, returning his accent pretty fully,
"Why, true," answered he very candidly; "there may be something
in that."
"How is it all to be?" cried James. "Is the defence to go on
long, and are they to have any evidence; or how?"
"We don't know this part of the business," said Mr. Windham,
smiling a little at such an upright downright question "it is Mr.
Hastings's affair now to settle it: however, I understand he
means to answer charge after charge as they were brought against
him, first by speeches, then by evidence: however, this is all
conjecture."
MR. LAW'S SPEECH DISCUSSED.
We then spoke of Mr. Law, Mr. Hastings's first counsel, and I
expressed some dissatisfaction that such attackers should not
have had abler and more equal opponents.
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"But do you not think Mr. Law spoke well?" cried he, "clear,
forcible? "
"Not forcible," cried I. I would not say not clear.
"He was frightened," said Mr. Windham, "he might not do himself
justice. I have heard him elsewhere, and been very well
satisfied with him; but he looked pale and alarmed, and his voice
trembled."
"I was very well content with his materials," quoth I, "which I
thought much better than the use he made of them; and once or
twice, he made an opening that, with a very little skill, might
most adroitly and admirably have raised a laugh against you all."
He looked a little askew, I must own, but he could not help
smiling. . . I gave him an instance in point, which -was the
reverse given by Mr. Law to the picture drawn by Mr. Burke of
Tamerlane, in which he said those virtues and noble qualities
bestowed upon him by the honourable manager were nowhere to be
found but on the British stage.
Now this, seriously, with a very little ingenuity, might have
placed Mr. Burke at the head of a company of comedians. This
last notion I did not speak, however; but enough was understood,
and Mr. Windham looked straight away from me, without answering;
nevertheless, his profile, which he left me, showed much more
disposition to laugh than to be incensed.
Therefore I proceeded ; pointing out another lost opportunity
that, well saved, might have proved happily ridiculous against
them; and this was Mr. Law's description of the real state of
India, even from its first discovery by Alexander, opposed to Mr.
Burke's flourishing representation, of its golden age, its lambs
and tigers associating, etc.
Still he looked askew ; but I believe he is truth itself, for he
offered no defence, though, of course, he would not enter into
the attack. And surely at this critical period I must not spare
pointing out all he will submit to hear, on the side of a man of
whose innocence I am so fully persuaded.
"I must own, however," continued I, finding him still attentive,
though silent, "Mr. Law provoked me in one point--his apologies
for his own demerits. Why should he contribute his humble mite
to your triumphs? and how little was it his place to extol your
superior talents, as if you were not self-sufficient enough
already, without his aid."
'Unless you had heard the speech of Mr. Law, you can hardly
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