ventured to make in behalf of his client ; and I could not
forbear this little observation, because I had taken notice with
what haughty derision the managers had perceived the fears of
their importance, which were felt even by the very counsel of
their prisoner. Mr. Windham, too, who himself never looks either
insolent or deriding, must be sure what I meant for his
associates could not include himself. He did not, however,
perfectly welcome the remark; he still only gave me his profile,
and said not a word,-so I went on. Mr. Hastings little thinks
what a pleader I am become in his cause, against one of his most
powerful adversaries.
"There was still another thing," quoth I, "in which I felt vexed
with Mr. Law: how could he be so weak as to beg quarter from you,
and to humbly hope that, if any mistake, any blunder, any
improvident word escaped him, you would have the indulgence to
spare your ridicule? O yes, to be sure! when I took notice at the
moment of his supplication, and before any error committed, that
every muscle of every face, amongst you was at work from the bare
suggestion."
He could not even pretend to look grave now, but, turning frankly
towards me, said, "Why, Mr. Fox most justly observed upon that
petition, that, if any man makes a blunder, a mistake, 'tis very
well to apologize: but it was singular to hear a man gravely
preparing for his blunders and mistakes, and wanting to make
terms for them beforehand."
"I like him for this," cried James again bonnement, "that he
seems so much interested for his client."
"Will you give me leave to inquire," quoth I, "one thing? You
know my old knack of asking strange questions."
He only bowed--archly enough, I assure you.
"
Did I fancy, or was it fact, that you were a flapper to Mr.
Burke, when Mr. Law charged him with disingenuity, in not having
recanted the accusation concerning Devy Sing? He appeared to me
in much perturbation, and I thought by his see-saw he was going
to interrupt the speech: did you prevent him?"
"No, no," he answered, "I did not: I did not think him in any
danger."
He rubbed his cheek, though, as he spoke, as if he did not much
like that circumstance. O that Mr. Burke--so great, so noble a
creature--can in this point thus have been warped.
Page 442
MR. WINDHAM ON THE FRENCH NATIONAL ASSEMBLY.
I ran off to another scene, and inquired how he had been amused
abroad, and, in particular, at the National Assembly?
"Indeed," he answered, "it was extremely curious for a short
time; but there is little variety in it, and therefore it will
not do long."
I was in a humour to be just as sincere here, as about the trial;
so you democrats must expect no better.
"I understand," quoth I, "there is a great dearth of abilities in
this new Assembly; how then should there be any variety?"
"No, I cannot say that: they do not want abilities; but they have
no opportunity to make their way."
"O!" quoth I, shaking my wise head, "abilities, real abilities,
make their own way."
"Why, that's true; but, in that Assembly, the noise, the tumult--
"
"Abilities," again quoth I, " "have power to quell noise and
tumult."
"Certainly, in general; but not in France. These new legislative
members are so solicitous to speak, so anxious to be heard, that
they prefer uttering any tautology to listening to others; and
when once they have begun, they go on with what speed they may,
and without selection, rather than stop. They see so many ready
to seize their first pause, they know they have so little chance
of a second hearing, that I never entered the Assembly without
being reminded of the famous old story of the man who patiently
bore hearing a tedious harangue, by saying the whole time to
himself, 'Well, well, 'tis his turn now; but let him beware how
he sneezes."'
"A BARBAROUS BUSINESS!"
James now again asked some question of their intentions with
regard to the progress of the trial. He answered, "We have
nothing to do with its present state. We leave Mr. Hastings now
to himself, and his own set. Let him keep to his cause, and he
may say what he will. We do not mean to interfere, nor avail
ourselves of our privileges."
Mr. Hastings was just entered; I looked down at him, and saw his
half-motion to kneel; I could not bear it, and, turning suddenly
to my neighbour, "O, Mr. Windham," I cried, "after
Page 443
all, 'tis, indeed, a barbarous business!" This was rather
further than I meant to go, for I said it with serious
earnestness; but it was surprised from me by the emotion always
excited at sight of that unmerited humiliation.
He looked full at me upon this solemn attack, and with a look of
chagrin amounting to displeasure, saying, "It is a barbarous
business we have had to go through."
I did not attempt to answer this, for, except through the medium
of sport and raillery, I have certainly no claim upon his
patience. But, in another moment, in a tone very flattering, he
said, "I do not understand, nor can any way imagine, how you can
have been thus perverted!"
"No, no!" quoth I, "it is you who are perverted!"
Here Mr. Law began his second oration, and Mr. Windham ran down
to his cell. I fancy this was not exactly the conversation he
expected upon my first enlargement. However, though it would
very seriously grieve me to hurt or offend him, I cannot refuse
my own veracity, nor Mr. Hastings's injuries, the utterance of
what I think truth.
Mr. Law was far more animated and less frightened, and acquitted
himself so as to merit almost as much `eloge as, in my opinion,
he had merited censure at the opening. It was all in answer to
Mr. Burke's general exordium and attack.
DEATH OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
Upon the day of Sir Joshua Reynolds's death(355) I was in my bed,
with two blisters, and I did not hear of it till two days after.
I shall enter nothing upon this Subject here; our current letters
mentioned the particulars, and I am not desirous to retrace them.
His loss is as universally felt as his merit is universally
acknowledged, and, joined to all public motives, I had myself
private ones of regret that cannot subside. He was always
peculiarly kind to me, and he had worked at my deliverance from a
life he conceived too laborious for me as if I had been his own
daughter; yet, from the time of my coming forth, I only twice saw
him. I had not recovered strength for visiting before he was
past receiving me. I grieve inexpressibly never to have been
able to make him the small tribute of thanks for his most kind
exertions in my cause. I little thought the second time I saw
him would be my last opportunity, and my intention was to wait
some favourable opening.
Page 444
Miss Palmer is left heiress,(356) and her unabating attendance
upon her inestimable uncle in his sickroom makes everybody
content with her great acquisition. I am sure she loved and
admired him with all the warmth of her warm heart. I wrote her a
few lines of condolence, and she has sent me a very kind answer.
She went immediately to the Burkes, with whom she will chiefly, I
fancy, associate.
March.-Sad for the loss of Sir Joshua, and all of us ill
ourselves, we began this month. Upon its 3rd day was his
funeral.(357) My dear father could not attend; but Charles was
invited and went. All the Royal Academy, professors and
students, and all the Literary club, attended as family,
mourners. Mr. Burke, Mr. Malone, and Mr. Metcalf, are executors.
Miss Palmer has spared nothing, either in thought or expense,
that could render the last honours splendid and grateful. It was
a very melancholy day to us; though it had the alleviation and
softening of a letter from our dear Charlotte, promising to
arrive the next day.
MR. WINDHAM TWITTED ON His LACK OF COMPASSION.
April 23.--I thought myself equal to again going to the
trial, which recommenced, after six or seven weeks' cessation, on
account of the judges going the circuit. Sarah went with me: I
am now so known in the chamberlain's box that the door-keepers
and attendants make way for me without looking at my ticket. And
to be sure, the managers on one side, and Mr. Hastings's friends
and counsel on the other, must pretty well have my face by heart.
I have the faces of all them, most certainly, in full
mental possession; and the figures of many whose names I know not
are so familiar to my eyes, that should I chance hereafter to
meet them, I shall be apt to take them for old acquaintances.
There was again a full appearance of managers to accompany
Page 445
Mr. Burke in his entry; and again Mr. Windham quitted the
procession, as it descended to the box, and filed off to speak
with me.
He made the most earnest inquiries after the health of my dearest
father, as well as after my own. He has all the semblance of
real regard and friendship for us, and I am given to believe he
wears no semblance that has not a real and sympathetic substance
couched beneath. His manner instantly revived in my mind my
intent not to risk, with him, the loss of making those poor
acknowledgments for his kindness, that I so much regret omitting
to Sir Joshua Reynolds. In return to his inquiries about my
renovating health, I answered that I had again been very ill
since I saw him last, and added, "Indeed, I believe I did not
come away too soon."
" And now," cried I, "I cannot resist giving myself the pleasure
of making my acknowledgments for what I owe to you upon this
subject. I have been, indeed, very much obliged, by various
things that have come round to me, both to you and Sir Joshua.--O
what a loss is that!"
"What a wretched loss!" cried he: and we then united our warmest
suffrages in his favour, with our deepest regret for our
deprivation. Here I observed poor Mr. Hastings was brought in.
I saw he was fixing him.
"And can you," I cried, fixing him, "can you have so much
compassion for one captive, and still have none for another?"
"Have you, then, still," cried he, "the same sentiments?"
"Have you," cried I, "heard all thus far of the defence, and are
you still unmoved?"
"Unmoved?" cried he, emphatically; "shall I be moved by a lion?
You see him there in a cage, and pity him; look back to when you
might have seen him with a lamb in his claws!"
I could only look dismayed for a moment. "But, at least," I
said, "I hope what I hear is not true, though I now grow afraid
to ask?"
"If it is anything about me," he answered, "it is certainly not
true."
"I am extremely glad, indeed," cried I, "for it has been buzzed
about in the world that you were to draw up the final charge.
This I thought most cruel of all; You, who have held back all
this time--"
"Yes! pretty completely," interrupted he, laughing.
Page 446
"No, not completely," I continued; "but Yet YOU have made no
direct formal speech, nor have come forward in any positive and
formidable manner; therefore, as we have now heard all the
others, and--almost enough--"
I was obliged to stop a moment, to see how this adventurous
plainness was taken; and he really, though my manner showed me
only rallying, looked I don't know how, at such unexampled
disrespect towards his brother orators. But I soon went quietly
on: "To come forth now, after all that has passed, with the eclat
of novelty, and,-for the most cruel part of all,--that which
cannot be answered."
"You think," cried he, "'tis bringing a fresh courser into the
field of battle, just as every other is completely jaded?"
"I think," cried I, "that I am very generous to wish against what
I should so much wish for, but for other considerations."
"O, what a flattering way," cried he, "of stating it! however, I
can bear to allow you a little waste of compliments, which you
know so well how to make; but I cannot bear to have you waste
your compassion."
A POINT OF CEREMONIAL.
May.-The 1st of this month I went again to Westminster Hall, with
our cousin Elizabeth. Evidence was brought forward by the
counsel for Mr. Hastings, and Lord Stormont was called upon as a
witness. This produced some curious debating among the Lords,
and with the chancellor. They spoke only for the ears of one
another, as it was merely to settle some ceremonial, whether he
was to be summoned to the common place where the witnesses stood,
or had the claim of a peer to speak in his place, robed. This
latter prevailed: and then we expected his speech; but no, a new
debate ensued, which, as we gathered from the rumour about us,
was that his lordship should have the prayer book, for his oath,
belonging to the House of Peers. Here, also, his dignity was
triumphant, though it cost the whole assembly a full quarter of
an hour; while another prayer book was officially at hand, in the
general post for plebeian witnesses.
Well! aristocrat as I am, compared with you, I laughed heartily
at all this mummery, and yet it was possibly wise, at this period
of pulling down all law and order, all privilege and
subordination, however frivolous was its appearance.
Page 447
His testimony was highly favourable to Mr. Hastings, with
regard to authenticating the intelligence he had received of an
opening war with France, upon which hung much justification
of the measures Mr. Hastings had pursued for raising supplies.
MRS. SCHWELLENBERG AND MLLE. JACOBI.
Thence I went to the Queen's house, where -I have a most cordial
general invitation from Mrs. Schwellenberg to go by all
opportunities; and there is none so good as after the trial, that
late hour exactly according With her dinner-time.
She is just as she Was with respect to health; but in all other
respects, how amended! all civility, all obligingness, all
courtesy! and so desirous to have me visit her, that she presses
me to come incessantly.
During coffee, the princess royal came into the room. She
condescended to profess herself quite glad to see me; and she had
not left the room five minutes before, again returning, she said,
"Mrs. Schwellenberg, I am come to plague you, for I am come to
take away Miss Burney." I give you leave to guess whether this
plagued me.
May 2.-The following week I again went to Westminster Hall.
Mlle. Jacobi had made a point of accompanying me, that she might
see the show, as James called it to General Burgoyne, and I had
great pleasure in taking her, for she is a most ingenuous and
good creature, though--alas!--by no means the same undaunted,
gay, open character as she appeared at first. Sickness,
confinement, absence from her friends, submission to her
coadjutrix, and laborious watching have much altered her.
The trial of this day was all written evidence in favour of Mr.
Hastings, and violent quarrelling as to its admissibility on the
part of Mr. Burke. Mr. Windham took his place, during some part
of the controversy, and spoke ably and clearly as to the given
point in dispute, but with the most palpable tremor and internal
struggle.
A LONG TALK WITH THE KING AND QUEEN.
I attended Mlle. Jacobi to the Queen's house, where I dined ; and
great indeed was my pleasure, during coffee, to see the Princess
Elizabeth, who, In the most Pleasing manner
Page 448
and the highest spirits, came to summon me to the queen. I found
her majesty again with all her sweet daughters but the youngest.
She was gracious and disposed to converse.
We had a great deal of talk upon public concerns, and she told me
a friend Of mine had spoken very well the day before, and so had
Mr. Burke. She meant Mr. Windham. It was against the new
associates, and in favour of the proclamation.(358) Mr. Burke,
of course, would here come forth in defence of his own
predictions and opinions; but Mr. Windham, who had rather abided
hitherto with Charles Fox, in thinking Mr. Burke too extreme,
well as he loves him personally, was a new convert highly
acceptable. He does not, however, go all lengths with Mr. Burke;
he is only averse to an unconstitutional mode of reform, and to
sanctioning club powers, so as to enable them, as in France, to
overawe the state and senate.(359)
Soon after, to my infinite joy, the king entered. O, he spoke to
me so kindly!--he congratulated me on the better looks which his
own presence and goodness gave me, repeatedly declaring he had
never seen me in such health. He asked me after my father, and
listened with interest when I mentioned his depression, and told
him that all he had done of late to soothe his retirement and
pain had been making canons to solemn words, and with such
difficulties of composition as, in better health and spirits,
would have rather proved oppressive and perplexing than a relief
to his feelings.
"I, too," said the king, after a very serious pause, "have myself
sometimes found, when ill or disturbed, that some grave and even
difficult employment for my thoughts has tended more to compose
me than any of the supposed usual relaxations."
He also condescended to ask after little Norbury, taking off the
eager little fellow while he spoke, and his earnest manner of
delivery. He then Inquired about my friends Mr. and Mrs. Locke,
and their expectations of the return of
Page 449
William. He inquired how I live, whom I saw, what sort of
neighbours I had in the college, and many other particulars, that
seemed to desire to know how I went on, and whether I was
comfortable. His looks, I am sure, said so, and most sweetly and
kindly.
They kept me till they went to the Japan room, where they meet
the officers and ladies who attend them in public. They were
going to the Ancient Music.
This dear king, nobly unsuspicious where left to himself, and
where he has met no doubleness, spoke also very freely of some
political matters before me--of the new association in
particular. It gratified me highly.
MADAME DE GENLIS: A WOEFUL CHANGE.
I got home to dinner to meet Mrs. and Miss Mary Young,(360) who
are in town for a few weeks. Miss Mary is sensible, and quick,
and agreeable.
They give a very unpleasant account of Madame de Genlis, or de
Sillery, or Brulard, as she is now called.(361) They say she has
established herself at Bury, in their neighbourhood, with Mlle.
la Princesse d'Orleans and Pamela, and a Circe, and another
Page 450
young girl under her care. They have taken a house, the master
of which always dines with them, though Mrs. Young says he is
such a low man he should not dine with her daughter. They form
twenty with themselves and household. They keep a botanist, a
chemist, and a natural historian always with them. These are
supposed to have been common servants of the Duke of Orleans in
former days, as they always walk behind the ladies when abroad;
but, to make amends in the new equalising style, they all dine
together at home. They visit at no house but Sir Thomas Gage's,
where they carry their harps, and frequently have music. They
have been to Bury ball, and danced all night Mlle. d'Orl`eans
with anybody, known or unknown to Madame Brulard.
What a woeful change from that elegant, amiable, high-bred Madame
de Genlis I knew six years ago! the apparent pattern of female
perfection in manners, conversation, and delicacy.
There are innumerable democrats assembled in Suffolk; among them
the famous Tom Paine, who herds with all the farmers that will
receive him, and there propagates his pernicious doctrines.
THE WEEPING BEAUTY AGAIN.
May 25.-This morning I went to a very fine public breakfast,
given by Mrs. Montagu. . . . The crowd of company was such that
we could only slowly make way, in any part. There could not be
fewer than four or five hundred people. It was like a full
Ranelagh by daylight.
We now met Mrs. Porteus, and who should be with her but the poor
pretty S.S., whom so long I had not seen, and who has now lately
been finally given up by her long-sought and very injurious
lover, Dr. Vyse? She is sadly faded, and looked disturbed and
unhappy; but still beautiful, though no longer blooming; and
still affectionate, though absent and evidently absorbed. We had
a little chat together about the Thrales. In mentioning our
former intimacy with them, "Ah, those," she cried, "were happy
times!" and her eyes glistened. poor thing! hers has been a
lamentable story!---Imprudence and vanity have rarely been mixed
with so much sweetness, and good-humour, and candour, and
followed with more reproach and ill success. We agreed to renew
acquaintance next winter; at present she will be little more in
town.
Page 451
MADAME DE LA FITE AND MRS. HASTINGS.
We went then round the rooms, which were well worth examination
and admiration ; and we met friends and acquaintance every other
step. . . . While we were examining the noble pillars in the new
room, I heard an exclamation of "Est-ce possible? suis-je si
heureuse?--Est-ce ma ch`ere Mlle. Beurni que je vois?"(362)
Need I say this was Madame de la, Fite ? or Mrs. Fitt, as, since
the French Revolution, of which she is a favourer, she is called
by some of the household to which I belonged.
I spoke so as to moderate this rapture into something less
calling for attention, which her voice and manner were engaging,
not unwillingly. I had not seen her since my retreat, and, if
she had been less pompous, I should have been glad of the
meeting. She kept my hand close grasped between both her own,
(though her fan nipped one of my fingers till I was ready to make
faces,) with a most resolute empressement, to the great
inconvenience of those who wanted to pass, for we were at one of
the entrances into the great new room; and how long she might
have continued this fond detention I know not, if a lady, whose
appearance vied for show and parade with Madame de la Fite's
manner and words, had not called out aloud, "I am extremely happy
indeed to see Miss Burney!"
This was Mrs. Hastings; and to answer her I was let loose.
I have always been very sorry that Mrs. Hastings, who is a
pleasing, lively, and well-bred woman, with attractive manners
and attentions to those she wishes to oblige, should have an
indiscretion so peculiarly unsuited to her situation, as to aim
always at being the most conspicuous figure wherever she appears.
Her dress now was like that of an Indian princess, according to
our ideas of such ladies, and so much the most splendid, from its
ornaments, and style, and fashion, though chiefly of muslin, that
everybody else looked under-dressed in her presence. It is for
Mr. Hastings I am sorry when I see this inconsiderate vanity, in
a woman who would so much better manifest her sensibility of his
present hard disgrace, by a modest and quiet appearance and
demeanour.
Page 452
THE IMPETUOUS ORATOR.
Wednesday, May 30.-To-day I went to Westminster Hall again, to
hear the evidence of Mr. Markham, which is so pleasantly in
favour of Mr. Hastings, that all the friends of that persecuted
man are gratified by all he deposes. Miss Ord accompanied me.
When the impetuous and ungovernable Mr. Burke was Interrupting
the chancellor, in order to browbeat Mr. Hastings's evidence, Mr.
Windham involuntarily exclaimed, "Hist!" just as if he had been
at his elbow, and playing the kind part of a flapper. I could
not help laughing, and half joining him: he echoed back my laugh,
and with a good humour that took in all its meaning and
acknowledged its sympathy with regard to Mr. Burke, nevertheless,
he spoke not a word. Afterwards, however, he spoke when I had
far rather he had been silent, for he went to the assistance of
Mr. Burke.
Michael Angelo Taylor spoke also; but I observed with pleasure a
distinction the chancellor made to Mr. Windham; for, when he
answered their arguments, he singled him out as the person who
had said what alone he meant upon that question to notice, by
saying, "The honourable manager who spoke second."
But I am sure--I think so, at least--Mr. Windham as little
approves the violence of Mr. Burke in this trial as I do myself.
I see him evidently and frequently suffer great pain and
mortification when he is so obstreperous.
BOSWELL'S MIMICRY OF DR. JOHNSON.
June 1.-This day had been long engaged for breakfasting with Mrs.
Dickenson and dining with Mrs. Ord. The breakfast guests were
Mr. Langton, Mr. Foote, Mr. Dickenson, jun., a cousin, and a very
agreeable and pleasing man; Lady Herries, Miss Dickenson, another
cousin, and Mr. Boswell.
This last was the object of the morning. I felt a strong
sensation of that displeasure which his loquacious communications
of every weakness and infirmity of the first and greatest good
man of these times has awakened in me, at his first sight; and,
though his address to me was courteous in the extreme, and he
made a point of sitting next me, I felt an indignant disposition
to a nearly forbidding reserve and silence. How
Page 453
many starts of passion and prejudice has he blackened into
record, that else might have sunk, for ever forgotten, under the
preponderance of weightier virtues and excellences!
Angry, however, as I have long been with him, he soon insensibly
conquered, though he did not soften me: there is so little of
ill-design or ill-nature in him, he is so open and forgiving for
all that is said in return, that he soon forced me to consider
him in a less serious light, and change my resentment against his
treachery into something like commiseration of his levity ; and
before we parted we became good friends. There is no resisting
great good humour, be what will in the opposite scale.
He entertained us all as if hired for that purpose, telling
stories of Dr. Johnson, and acting them with incessant
buffoonery. I told him frankly that, if he turned him into
ridicule by caricature, I should fly the premises: he assured me
he would not, and indeed his imitations, though comic to excess,
were so far from caricature that he omitted a thousand
gesticulations which I distinctly remember.
Mr. Langton told some stories himself in imitation of Dr.
johnson; but they became him less than Mr. Boswell, and only
reminded me of what Dr. Johnson himself once said to me--"Every
man has, some time in his life, an ambition to be a wag." If Mr.
Langton had repeated anything from his truly great friend
quietly, it would far better have accorded with his own serious
and respectable character.
THE KING'S BIRTHDAY.
June 4.-The birthday of our truly good king.
As his majesty had himself given me, when I saw him after the
queen's birthday, an implied reproach for not presenting myself
at the palace that day, I determined not to incur a similar
censure on this, especially as I hold my admission on such a
national festival as a real happiness, as well as honour, when it
is to see themselves.
How different was my attire from every other such occasion the
five preceding years! It was a mere simple dressed undress,
without feathers, flowers, hoop, or furbelows.
When I alighted at the porter's lodge I was stopped from crossing
the court-yard by seeing the king with his three sons, the Prince
of Wales, Duke of York, and Duke of Clarence, who were standing
there after alighting from their horses, to
Page 454
gratify the people who encircled the iron rails. It was a
pleasant and goodly sight, and I rejoiced in such a detention.
I had a terrible difficulty to find a friend who would make known
to her majesty that I was come to pay my devoirs. At length,
while watching in the passages to and fro, I heard a step upon
the princesses' stairs, and, venturing forward, I encountered the
Princess Elizabeth. I paid my respectful congratulations on the
day, which she most pleasantly received, and I intimated my great
desire to see her majesty. I am Sure the amiable princess
communicated my petition, for Mr, de Luc came out in a few
minutes and ushered me into the royal presence.
The queen was in her state dressing-room, her head attired for
the Drawing-room superbly; but her Court-dress, as usual,
remaining to be put on at St. James's. She had already received
all her early complimenters, and was prepared to go to St.
James's: the princess royal was seated by her side, and all the
other princesses, except the Princess Amelia, were in the room,
with the Duchess of York. Mr. de Luc, Mrs. Schwellenberg, Madame
de la Fite, and Miss Goldsworthy were in the background.
The queen smiled upon me most graciously, and every princess came
up separately to speak with me. I thanked her majesty warmly for
admitting me upon such an occasion, "O!" cried she, "I resolved
to see you the moment I knew you were here."
She then inquired when I went into Norfolk, and conversed upon my
summer plans, etc., with more of her original sweetness of manner
than I have seen since my resignation. What pleasure this gave
me ! and what pleasure did I feel in being kept by her till the
further door opened, and the king entered, accompanied by the
Dukes of York and Clarence.
I motioned to retreat, but calling out, "What, Miss Burney," the
king came up to me and inquired how I did,- and began talking to
me so pleasantly, so gaily, so kindly even, that I had the
satisfaction of remaining and of gathering courage to utter my
good wishes and warm fervent prayers for this day. He deigned to
hear me very benignly; or make believe he did, for I did not make
my harangue very audibly; but he must be sure of its purport.
He said I was grown "quite fat" since he had seen me, and
appealed to the Duke of York: he protested my arm was half as big
again as heretofore, and then he measured it with his
Page 455
spread thumbs and forefingers; and the whole of his manner showed
his perfect approbation of the step I had taken, of presenting
myself in the royal presence on this auspicious day.
The queen soon after walked up to me, and asked if I should like
to see the ball at night. I certainly should much like to have
seen them "in all their glory," after seeing them thus in all
their kindness, as well as to have been present at the first
public appearance at Court of the Princess Sophia : but I had no
means to get from and to Chelsea so late at night, and was,
therefore, forced to excuse myself, and decline her gracious
proposition of giving me tickets.
MR. HASTINGS'S SPEECH.
Two days after, I went again to Westminster Hall with Miss Ord.
Her good mother has a ticket for the Duke of Newcastle's box, in
which she was seated. This -day's business consisted of
examining witnesses: it was meant for the last meeting. during
this session - but when it was over, Mr. Hastings arose and
addressed the Lords in a most noble and pathetic speech, praying
them to continue their attendance till his defence was heard
throughout, or, at least, not to deny him the finishing his
answer to the first charge.
He spoke, I believe, to the hearts of everybody, except his
prosecutors : the whole assembly seemed evidently affected by
what he urged, upon the unexampled delay of justice In his trial:
silence was never more profound than that which his voice
instantly commanded. Poor unhappy, injured gentleman! How, how
can such men practise cruelty so glaring as is manifested in the
whole conduct of this trial!
>From hence, as usual, I went to dine at the Queen's house. Mrs.
Schwellenberg took me to the queen after coffee.
She was writing to Lady Cremorne: she talked with me while she
finished her letter, and then read it to me, exactly as in old
times. She writes with admirable facility, and peculiar elegance
of expression, as well as of handwriting.
She asked me, somewhat curiously, if I had seen any of my old
friends? I found she meant oppositionists. I told her only at
the trial. She kept me in converse till the dear king came into
the room: he had a grandson of Lord Howe's with him, a little boy
in petticoats, with whom he was playing, and whom he thought
remembered me, I had seen him frequently
Page 456
at Weymouth, and the innocent little fellow insisted upon Making
me his bows and reverences, when told to Make them to the queen.
The king asked me what had been doing at Westminster Hall? I
repeated poor Mr. Hastings's remonstrance, particularly a part of
it in which he had mentioned that he had already "appealed to his
majesty, whose justice he could not doubt." The king looked a
little queer, but I was glad of the opportunity of putting in a
word for poor Mr. Hastings.
I went on regularly to the trial till it finished for this year.
Mr. Dallas closed his answer to the first charge, with great
spirit and effect, and seemed to make numerous Proselytes for Mr.
Hastings.
A WELL-PRESERVED BEAUTY.
Thursday, June 18.-After many invitations and regulations, it was
settled I was to accompany my father on a visit of three days to
Mrs. Crewe at Hampstead. The villa at Hampstead is small, but
commodious. We were received by Mrs. Crewe with much kindness.
The room was rather dark, and she had a veil to her bonnet, half
down, and with this aid she looked still in a full blaze of
beauty. I was wholly astonished. Her bloom, perfectly natural,
is as high as that of Augusta Locke when in her best looks, and
the form of her face is so exquisitely perfect that my eye never
Met it without fresh admiration. She is certainly, in my eyes,
the most completely a beauty of any woman I ever saw. I know
not, even now, any female in her first youth who could bear the
comparison. She uglifies everything near her.
Her son was with her. He is just of age, and looks like her
elder brother! He is a heavy old-looking young Man. He is going
to China with Lord Macartney.(363)
THE BURKES.
My former friend, young Burke, was also there. I was glad to
renew acquaintance with him though I could see some little
strangeness in him: this, however, completely wore off.
Page 457
before the day was over. Soon after entered Mrs. Burke, Miss
F.,(364) a niece, and Mr. Richard Burke, the comic, humorous,
bold, queer brother of the Mr. Burke, who, they said, was soon
coming, with Mr. Elliot. The Burke family were invited by Mrs.
Crewe to meet us.
Mrs. Burke was just what I have always seen her, soft, gentle,
reasonable, and obliging; and we met, I think, upon as good terms
as if so many years had not parted us.
At length Mr. Burke appeared, accompanied by Mr. Elliot. He
shook hands with my father as soon as he had paid his devoirs to
Mrs. Crewe, but he returned my curtsey with so distant a bow,
that I Concluded myself quite lost with him, from my evident
solicitude in poor Mr. Hastings's cause. I could not wish that
less obvious, thinking as I think of it; but I felt infinitely
grieved to lose the favour of a man whom in all other articles, I
so much venerate, and whom, Indeed, I esteem and admire as the
very first man of true genius now living in this Country.
Mrs. Crewe introduced me to Mr. Elliot: I am Sure we were already
personally known to each other, for I have seen him perpetually
in the managers' box, whence, as often, he must have seen me in
the great chamberlain's. He is a tall, thin young man, plain in
face, dress, and manner, but sensible, and possibly much besides;
he was reserved, however, and little else appeared.
The moment I was named, to my great joy I found Mr. Burke had not
recollected me. He is more near-sighted, considerably,- than
myself. "Miss Burney!" he now exclaimed, coming forward, and
quite kindly taking my hand, "I did not see you;" and then he
spoke very sweet words of the meeting, and of my looking far
better than "while I was a courtier," and of how he rejoiced to
see that I so little suited that station. "You look," cried he,
"quite renewed, revived, disengaged; you seemed, when I conversed
with you last, at the trial, quite altered; I never saw such a
change for the better as quitting a Court has brought about!"
Ah! thought I, this is simply a mistake, from reasoning according
to your own feelings. I only seemed altered for the worse at the
trial, because I there looked coldly and distantly, from distaste
and disaffection to your proceedings; and I here
Page 458
.
look changed for the better, only because I here meet You without
the chill of disapprobation, and with the glow of my first
admiration of you and your talents!
BURKE'S CONVERSATIONAL POWERS.
Mrs. Crewe gave him her place, and he sat by me, and entered into
a most animated conversation upon Lord Macartney and his Chinese
expedition, and the two Chinese youths who were to accompany it.
These last he described minutely and spoke of the extent of the
undertaking in high, and perhaps fanciful, terms, but with
allusions and anecdotes intermixed, so full of general
information and brilliant ideas, that I soon felt the whole of my
first enthusiasm return, and with it a sensation of pleasure that
made the day delicious to me.
After this my father joined us, and politics took- the lead. He
spoke then with an eagerness and a vehemence that instantly
banished the graces, though it redoubled the energies, of his
discourse. "The French Revolution," he said, "which began by
authorising and legalising Injustice, and which by rapid steps
had proceeded to every species of despotism except owning a
despot, was now menacing all the universe and all mankind with
the most violent concussion of principle and order." My father
heartily joined, and I tacitly assented to his doctrines, though
I feared not with his fears.
One Speech I Must repeat, for it is explanatory of his conduct,
and nobly explanatory. When lie had expatiated upon the present
dangers, even to English liberty and property, from the contagion
of havoc and novelty, he earnestly exclaimed, "This it is that
has made ME an abettor and supporter of kings! Kings are
necessary, and if we would preserve peace and prosperity, we must
preserve THEM we must all put our shoulders to the work! Ay, and
stoutly, too!"
This subject lasted till dinner.
At dinner Mr. Burke sat next Mrs. Crewe, and I had the happiness
to be seated next Mr. Burke, and my other neighbour was his
amiable son.
The dinner, and the dessert when the servants were removed, were
delightful. How I wish my dear Susanna and Fredy could meet this
wonderful man when he is easy, happy, and with people he
cordially likes! But politics, even on his own
Page 459
side, must always be excluded; his irritability Is so terrible on
that theme that it gives immediately to his face the expression
of a man who is going to defend himself from murderers. I can
give you only a few little detached traits of what passed, as
detail would be endless.
Charles Fox being mentioned, Mrs. Crewe told us that he had
lately said, upon being shown some passage in Mr. Burke's book
which he had warmly opposed, but which had, in the event, made
its own justification, very candidly, "Well! Burke is right--but
Burke is often right, only he is right too soon."
"Had Fox seen some things in that book," answered Mr. Burke, "as
soon, he would at this moment, in all probability, be first
minister of this country."
"What!" cried Mrs. Crewe, "with Pitt?--No!--no!--Pitt won't go
out, and Charles Fox will never make a coalition with Pitt."
"And why not?" said Mr. Burke, dryly; "why not this coalition as
well as other coalitions?"
Nobody tried to answer this.
"Charles Fox, however," said Mr. Burke afterwards, "can never
internally like the French Revolution. He is entangled; but, in
himself, if he should find no other objection to it, he has at
least too much taste for such a revolution."
Mr. Elliot related that he had lately been in a company of some
of the first and most distinguished men of the French nation, now
fugitives here, and had asked them some questions about the new
French ministry; they had answered that they knew them not even
by name till now! "Think," cried he, "what a ministry that must
be! Suppose a new administration formed here of Englishmen of
whom we had never before heard the names! what statesmen they
must be! how prepared and fitted for government! To begin by
being at the helm!"
Mr. Richard Burke related, very comically, various censures cast
upon his brother, accusing him of being the friend of despots,
and the abettor of slavery, because he had been shocked at the
imprisonment of the king of France, and was anxious to preserve
our own limited monarchy in the same state in which it so long
had flourished.
Mr. Burke looked half alarmed at his brother's opening, but,
Page 460
when he had finished, he very good-humouredly poured out a glass
of wine, and, turning to me, said, "Come then--here's slavery for
ever!"
This was well understood, and echoed round the table with hearty
laughter.
"This would do for you completely, Mr. Burke," said Mrs. Crewe,
"if it could get into a newspaper! Mr. Burke, they would say,
has now spoken out; the truth has come to light unguardedly, and
his real defection from the cause Of true liberty is
acknowledged. I should like to draw up the paragraph!"
"And add," said Mr. Burke, "the toast was addressed to Miss
Burney, in order to pay court to the queen!"
This sport went on till, upon Mr. Elliot's again mentioning
France and the rising jacobins, Mr. Richard Burke loudly gave a
new toast--"Come!" cried he, "here's confusion to Confusion!"
Mr. Windham, who Was gone into Norfolk for the summer, was
frequently mentioned, and always with praise. Mr. Burke, upon
Mr. Elliot's saying something of his being very thin, warmly
exclaimed, "He is just as he should be! If I were Windham this
minute, I Should not wish to be thinner, nor fatter, nor taller,
nor shorter, nor any way, nor in anything, altered."
Some time after, speaking of former days, you may believe I was
struck enough to hear Mr. Burke say to Mrs. Crewe, "I wish you
had known Mrs. Delany! She was a pattern of a perfect fine lady,
a real fine lady, of other days! Her manners were faultless; her
deportment was all elegance, her speech was all sweetness, and
her air and address all dignity. I always looked up to her as
the model of an accomplished woman of former times."
Do you think I heard such a testimony to my most revered and
beloved departed friend unmoved?
Afterwards, still to Mrs. Crewe, he proceeded to say, she had
been married to Mr. Wycherley, the author.(365) There I ventured
to interrupt him, and tell him I fancied that must he some
Page 461
great mistake, as I had been well acquainted with her history
from her own mouth. He seemed to have heard it from some good
authority; but I could by no means accede my belief, as her real
life and memoirs had been so long in my hands,
written by herself to a certain period, and, for some way,
continued by me. This, however, I did not mention.
A WILD IRISH GIRL.
When we left the dining-parlour to the gentlemen, Miss F- seized
my arm, without the smallest previous speech, and, with a
prodigious Irish brogue, said "Miss Burney, I am so glad you
can't think to have this favourable opportunity of making an
intimacy with you! I have longed to know you ever since I became
rational!"
I was glad, too, that nobody heard her! She made me walk off
with her in the garden, whither we had adjourned for a stroll, at
a full gallop, leaning upon my arm, and putting her face close to
mine, and sputtering at every word from excessive eagerness.
"I have the honour to know some of your relations in Ireland,"
she continued; "that is, if they an't yours, which they are very
sorry for, they are your sister's, which is almost the same
thing. Mr. Shirley first lent me 'Cecilia,' and he was so
delighted to hear my remarks! Mrs. Shirley's a most beautiful
creature; she's grown so large and so big! and all her daughters
are beautiful; so is all the family. I never saw Captain
Phillips, but I dare say he's beautiful."
She is quite a wild Irish girl. Presently she talked of Miss
Palmer. "O, she loves you!" she cried; "she says she saw you
last Sunday, and she never was so happy in her life. She said
you looked sadly."
This Miss F- is a handsome girl, and seems very good humoured. I
imagine her but just imported, and I doubt not but the
soft-mannercd, and well-bred, and quiet Mrs. Burke will soon
subdue this exuberance of loquacity.
I gathered afterwards from Mrs. Crewe, that my curious new
acquaintance made innumerable inquiries concerning my employment
and office under the queen. I find many people much disturbed to
know whether I had the place of the Duchess of Ancastor, on one
side, or of a chamber-maid, on the other. Truth is apt to lie
between conjectures.
Page 462
ERSKINE's EGOTISM.
The party returned with two very singular additions to its
number--Lord Loughborough,(366) and Mr. and Mrs. Erskine.(367)
They have villas at Hampstead, and were met in the walk; Mr.
Erskine else would not, probably, have desired to meet Mr. Burke,
who openly in the House of Commons asked him if he knew what
friendship meant, when he pretended to call him, Mr. Burke, his
friend?
There was an evident disunion of the cordiality of the party from
this time. My father, Mr. Richard Burke, his nephew, and Mr.
Elliot entered into some general discourse; Mr.
Page 463
Burke took up a volume Of Boileau, and read aloud, though to
himself, and with a pleasure that soon made him seem to forget
all intruders; Lord Loughborough joined Mrs. Burke and Mr.
Erskine, seating himself next to Mrs. Crewe, engrossed her
entirely, yet talked loud enough for all to hear who were not
engaged themselves.
For me, I sat next Mrs. Erskine, who seems much a woman
of the world, for she spoke with me just as freely, and readily,
and easily as if we had been old friends.
Mr. Erskine enumerated all his avocations to Mrs. Crewe, and,
amongst others, mentioned, very calmly, having to plead against
Mr. Crewe upon a manor business in Cheshire. Mrs. Crewe hastily
and alarmed interrupted him, to inquire what he meant, and what
might ensue to Mr. Crewe? O, nothing but the loss of the
lordship upon that spot," he coolly answered; "but I don't know
that it will be given against him: I only know I shall have three
hundred Pounds for it."
Mrs. Crewe looked thoughtful; and Mr. Erskine then began to speak
of the new Association for Reform, by the friends of the people,
headed by Messrs. Grey and Sheridan, and sustained by Mr. Fox,
and openly opposed by Mr. Windham, as well as Mr. Burke. He said
much of the use they had made of his name, though he had never
yet been to the society; and I began to understand that he meant
to disavow it; but presently he added, "I don't know whether I
shall ever attend--I have so much to do--so little time: however,
the people must be supported."(368)
"PRAY, will you tell me," said Mrs. Crewe, drily, "what you mean
by the people? I never knew."
He looked surprised, but evaded any answer and soon after took
his leave, with his wife, who seems by no means to admire him as
much as he admires himself, if I may judge by short odd speeches
which dropped from her. The eminence of Mr. Erskine seems all
for public life; in private, his excessive egotisms undo him.
Lord Loughborough instantly took his seat next to Mrs. Crewe; and
presently related a speech which Mr. Erskine has lately made at
some public meeting, and which he opened to this effect:--"As to
me, gentlemen, I have some title to give my opinions freely.
Would you know what my title is derived from? I challenge any
man to inquire! If he ask my
Page 464
birth,--its genealogy may dispute with kings! If my wealth, it
is all for which I have time to hold out my hand! If my
talents,--No! of those, gentlemen, I leave you to judge for
yourselves."(369)
CAEN-WOOD.
June 22.-Mrs. Crewe took my father and myself to see the
Hampstead lions. We went to Caen-wood, to see the house and
pictures. Poor Lord Mansfield(370) has not been downstairs, the
housekeeper told us, for the last four years; yet she asserts he
is by no means superannuated, and frequently sees his very
intimate friends, and seldom refuses to be consulted by any
lawyers. He was particularly connected with my revered Mrs.
Delany, and I felt melancholy upon entering his house to
recollect how often that beloved lady had planned carrying
thither Miss Port and myself, and how often we had been invited
by Miss Murrays, my lord's nieces. I asked after those ladies,
and left them my respects. I heard they were up-stairs with Lord
Mansfield, whom they never left.
Many things in this house were interesting, because historical
but I fancy the pictures, at least, not to have much other
recommendation. A portrait Of Pope, by himself, I thought
extremely curious. It is very much in the style of most of
jervas's own paintings. They told us that, after the burning of
Lord Mansfield's house in town, at the time of Lord G. Gordon's
riots, thousands came to inquire, if this original portrait was
preserved. Luckily it was at Caen-wood.
We spent a good deal of time in the library,--and saw first
editions of almost all Queen Anne's classics; and lists of
subscribers to Pope's "Iliad," and many such matters, all
enlivening to some corner or other of the memory.
AN ADVENTURE WITH MRS. CREWE.
We next proceeded to the Shakspeare gallery,(371) which I had
Page 465
never seen. And here we met with an adventure that finished our
morning's excursions.
There was a lady in the first room, dressed rather singularly,
quite alone, and extremely handsome, who was parading about with
a nosegay in her hand, which she frequently held to her nose, in
a manner that was evidently calculated to attract notice. We
therefore passed on to the inner room, to avoid her. Here we had
but just all taken our stand opposite different pictures, when
she also entered, and, coming pretty close to my father, sniffed
at her flowers with a sort of extatic eagerness, and then let
them fall. My father picked them up, and gravely presented them
to her. She curtsied to the ground in receiving them, and
presently crossed over the room, and,, brushing past Mrs. Crewe,
seated herself immediately by her elbow. Mrs. Crewe, not
admiring this familiarity, moved away, giving her at the same
time a look of dignified distance that was almost petrifying.
It did not prove so to this lady, who presently followed her to
the next picture, and, sitting as close as she could to where
Mrs. Crewe stood, began singing various quick passages, without
words or connexion. I saw Mrs. Crewe much alarmed, and advanced
to stand by her, meaning to whisper her that we had better leave
the room; and this idea was not checked by seeing that the
flowers were artificial. By the looks we interchanged we soon
mutually said, "This is a mad woman." We feared irritating her by
a sudden flight, but gently retreated, and soon got quietly into
the large room when she bounced up with a great noise, and,
throwing the veil of her bonnet violently back, as if fighting
it, she looked after us, pointing at Mrs. Crewe.
Seriously frightened, Mrs. Crewe seized my father's arm, and
hurried up two or three steps into a small apartment. Here Mrs.
Crewe, addressing herself to an elderly gentleman, asked if he
could inform the people below that a mad woman was terrifying the
company ; and while he was receiving her commission with the most
profound respect, and with an evident air of admiring
astonishment at her beauty, we heard a rustling, and, looking
round, saw the same figure hastily striding after us, and in an
instant at our elbows.
Mrs. Crewe turned quite pale ; it was palpable she was the object
pursued, and she most civilly and meekly articulated, "I beg your
pardon, ma'am," as she hastily passed her, and hurried down the
steps. We were going to run for our lives,
Page 466
when Miss Townshend whispered Mrs. Crewe it was Only Mrs. Wells
the actress, and said she was certainly Only performing vagaries
to try effect, which she was quite famous for doing.
It would have been food for a painter to have seen Mrs. Crewe
during this explanation. All her terror instantly gave way to
indignation; and scarcely any pencil could equal the high vivid
glow of her cheeks. To find herself made the object of game to
the burlesque humour of a bold player, was an indignity she could
not brook, and her mind was immediately at work how to assist
herself against such unprovoked and unauthorized effrontery.
The elderly gentleman who, with great eagerness, had followed
Mrs. Crewe, accompanied by a young man who was of his party,
requested more particularly her commands ; but before Mrs.
Crewe's astonishment and resentment found words, Mrs. Wells,
singing, and throwing herself into extravagant attitudes, again
rushed down the steps, and fixed her eyes on Mrs. Crewe. This,
however, no longer served her purpose. Mrs. Crewe fixed her in
return, and with a firm, composed, commanding air and look that,
though it did not make this strange creature retreat, somewhat
disconcerted her for a few minutes. She then presently affected
a violent coughing such a one as almost shook the room; though
such a forced and unnatural noise as rather resembled howling
than a cold.
This over, and perceiving Mrs, Crewe still steadily keeping
her ground, she had the courage to come up to us, and, with a
flippant air, said to the elderly gentleman, "Pray, sir, will you
tell me what it is o'clock?"
He looked vexed to be called a moment from looking at Mrs. Crewe,
and, with a forbidding gravity, answered her, "About two."
"No offence, I hope, sir?" cried she, seeing him turn eagerly
from her. He bowed without looking at her, and she strutted
away, still, however, keeping in sight, and playing various
tricks, her eyes perpetually turned towards Mrs. Crewe, who as
regularly, met them, with an expression such as might have turned
a softer culprit to stone.
Our cabal was again renewed, and Mrs. Crewe again told this
gentleman to make known to the proprietors of the gallery that
this person was a nuisance to the company, when, suddenly
re-approaching as, she called out, "Sir! sir!" to the younger of
our new protectors.
He coloured, and looked much alarmed, but only bowed.
Page 467
"Pray, sir," cried she, "what's o'clock?"
He looked at his watch, and answered.
"You don't take it ill, I hope, sir?" she cried.
He only bowed.
"I do no harm, sir," said she; "I never bite."
The poor young man looked aghast, and bowed lower; but Mrs.
Crewe, addressing herself to the elder, said aloud, "I beg you,
sir, to go to Mr. Boydell; you may name me to him--Mrs. Crewe."
Mrs. Wells at this walked away, yet still in sight.
"You may tell him what has happened, sir, in all our names. You
may tell him Miss Burney--"
"O no!" cried I, in a horrid fright, "I beseech I may not be
named! And, indeed, ma'am, it may be better to let it all alone.
It will do no good; and it may all get into the newspapers."
"And if it does," cried Mrs. Crewe, "what is it to us? We have
done nothing; we have given no offence, and made no disturbance.
This person has frightened us all wilfully, and Utterly without
provocation; and now she can frighten us no longer, she would
brave us. Let her tell her own story, and how will it harm
us?"
"Still," cried I, "I must always fear being brought into any
newspaper cabals. Let the fact be ever so much against her, she
will think the circumstances all to her honour if a paragraph
comes out beginning 'Mrs. Crewe and Mrs. Wells.'"
Mrs. Crewe liked this sound as little as I should have liked it
in placing my own name where I put hers. She hesitated a little
what to do, and we all walked down-stairs, where instantly this
bold woman followed us, paraded Up and down the long shop with a
dramatic air while our group was in conference, and then, sitting
down at the clerk's desk, and calling in a footman, she desired
him to wait while she wrote a note.
She scribbled a few lines, and read aloud her direction, "To Mr.
Topham;" and giving the note to the man, said, "Tell your master
that is something to make him laugh. Bid him not send to the
press till I see him."
Now as Mr. Topham is the editor of "The World," and notoriously
her protector, as her having his footman acknowledged, this
looked rather serious, and Mrs. Crewe began to partake of my
alarm. She therefore, to my infinite satisfaction, told her new
friend that she desired he would name no names, but merely
mention that some ladies had been frightened. . . .
Page 468
We then got into Mrs. Crewe's carriage, and not till then would
this facetious Mrs. Wells quit the shop. And she walked in
sight, dodging us, and playing antics of a tragic sort of
gesture, till we drove out of her power to keep up with us. What
a strange creature!
AN INVITATION FROM ARTHUR YOUNG.
(Mr. Arthur Young to Fanny Burney.)
Bradfield Farm, June 18, 1792.
WHAT a plaguy business 'tis to take up one's pen to write to a
person who is constantly moving in a vortex of pleasure,
brilliancy, and wit,--whose movements and connections are, as it
were, in another world! One knows not how to manage the matter
with such folks, till you find by a little approximation and
friction of tempers and things that they are mortal, and no more
than good sort of people in the main, only garnished with
something we do not possess ourselves. Now then, the
consequence.
Only three pages to write, and one lost in introduction! To the
matter at last.
It seemeth that you make a journey to Norfolk. Now do ye see, if
you do not give a call on the farmer, and examine his ram (an old
acquaintance), his bull, his lambs, calves, and crops, he will
say but one thing of you--that you are fit for a court, but not
for a farm; and there is more happiness to be found among my
rooks than in the midst of all the princes and princesses of
Golconda. I would give an hundred pound to see you married to a
farmer that never saw London, with plenty of poultry ranging in a
few green fields, and flowers and shrubs disposed where they
should be, around a cottage, and not around a breakfast-room in
Portman-square, fading in eyes that know not to admire them. In
honest truth now, let me request your company here. It will give
us all infinite pleasure. You are habituated to admiration, but
you shall have here what is much better--the friendship of those
who loved you long before the world admired you. Come, and make
old friends happy!
(346) The flight of the king and his family from Paris, on the
night of June 20-21. They reached Varennes in safety the
following night, but were there recognised and stopped, and the
next day escorted back to Paris.-ED.
(347) The reader will find in Green's "History of the English
People," a widely different view of' the character of Dunstan.
But Fanny knew only the old stories, and had, moreover, written a
tragedy, "Edwy and Elgiva," in which Dunstan, in accordance with
those old stories, appears as the villain.-ED.
(348) Author of the "New Bath Guide."-ED.
(349) Henrietta Frances, second daughter of John, first Earl
Spencer, and younger sister of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire,
married Viscount Duncannon in 1780. She died in 1821.-ED.
(350) Gibbon had good reason for his opinion of the power of Lady
Elizabeth's charms. In 1787, he met her at Lausanne, a young
widow of twenty-eight, and found her allurements so irresistible
that he proposed marriage to her, and was rejected.-ED.
(351) Mrs. Ord was a yet more violent Tory than Fanny herself,
and would believe no good of the Duchess of Devonshire, the queen
of the Whigs.-ED.
(352) In the "Memoirs of Dr. Burney," Fanny writes in more detail
of this her last visit to Sir Joshua. "He was still more deeply
depressed; though Miss Palmer good-humouredly drew a smile from
him, by gaily exclaiming, 'Do, pray, now, uncle, ask Miss Burney
to write another book directly! for we have almost finished
Cecilia again--and this is our sixth reading of it!'"
"The little occupation, Miss Palmer said, of which Sir joshua was
then capable, was carefully dusting the paintings in his picture
gallery, and placing them in different points of view.
"This passed at the conclusion Of 1791; on the February of the
following year, this friend, equally amiable and eminent, was no
more! (Memoirs, vol. iii. P. 144).-ED.
(353) The wife of Sir Lucas Pepys.-ED.
(354) Afterwards Lord Ellenborough: the leading counsel for
Hastings.-ED.
(355) February 23, 1792.-ED.
(356) The greater part of Sir joshua's large fortune was left to
his unmarried niece, Mary Palmer. Considerable legacies were
left to his niece, Mrs. Gwatkin (Offy Palmer), and to his friend
Edmund Burke. In addition to these legacies, his will provided
for a number of small bequests, including one of a thousand
pounds to his old servant, Ralph Kirkley. In the following
summer Mary Palmer married the Earl of Inchiquin, afterwards
Marquis of Thomond. "He is sixty-nine," Fanny writes about that
time of Lord Inchiquin; "but they say he is remarkably pleasing
in his manners, and soft and amiable in his disposition."-ED.
(357) He was buried in the crypt of St. Paul's Cathedral, near
the tomb of Sir Christopher Wren.-ED.
(358) The recent proclamation by the Government against the
publication and sale of seditious writings. The "new associates"
were members of the societies of sympathisers with the principles
of the French Revolution, which, under such titles as "Friends of
the People." "Corresponding Society," etc., were now spreading
all over England.-ED.
(359) The revolutionary clubs of Paris, the Jacobins' Club in
particular, gradually acquired such power as enabled them to
overawe the Legislative Assembly, and even, at a later date, the
Convention itself. Their influence only ceased with the
overthrow and death of their leader, Robespièrre, in 1794.-ED.
(360) The wife and eldest daughter of Arthur Young, the
well-known writer on agriculture. Mrs. Young was the sister of
Dr. Burney's second Wife.-ED.
(361) "Madame de Genlis's husband, the Count de Genlis, had
become Marquis of Sillery by the death of his elder brother. He
was a Revolutionist and member of the Girondin party: one of the
twenty-two Girondins who perished by the guillotine, October 31,
1793. Madame de Genlis (or Brulard) had come to England in
October, 1791, with her young pupil, Mlle. d'Orléans
(Egalité), the daughter of Philippe Egalité, Duke of Orleans,
whose physicians had ordered her to take the waters at Bath.
They remained in England until November, 1792, when they were
recalled to Paris by Egalité. Arriving there, they found
themselves proscribed as emigrants, and obliged to quit Paris
within eight-and-forty hours. They then took refuge in Flanders,
and settled at Tournay where Pamela was married to Lord Edward
Fitzgerald, subsequently one of the leaders in the Irish
Rebellion of 1798. In Flanders Madame de Genlis enjoyed the
protection of General Dumontiez, but when he became suspected,
with too good reason, by the Convention, she was obliged again to
take flight, and found safety at last with Mlle. d'Orléans, in
Switzerland.
Pamela was the adopted daughter of Madame de Genlis; some said
her actual daughter by the Duke of Orleans; but this is at least
doubtful. "Circe," or "Henrietta Circe," as Fanny afterwards
calls her, was Madame de Genlis's niece, Henriette de Sercey (!),
who subsequently married a rich merchant of Hamburg.-ED. VOL. 11.
(362) "Is it possible? Am I so happy? Do I see my dear Miss
Burney?"
(363) Earl Macartney was sent as ambassador to China in 1793, for
the purpose of concluding a commercial treaty with that power.
He was unsuccessful, however, and, after spending some months in
China, the embassy returned to England.-ED.
(364) "Miss French, a lively niece of Mr. Burke's." (.Memoirs of
Dr. Burney, vol. iii, p. 157.)-ED.
(365) Burke was, of course, mistaken. When Wycherley died, at
seventy-five (December, 1715), Mary Granville (afterwards Mrs.
Delany) was in her sixteenth year. Wycherley, it is true,
married a young wife on his deathbed, but it is certain that this
was not Mary Granville; indeed, if Pope's account, given in
Spence's "Anecdotes," may be trusted, it was a woman of very
different character.-ED.
(366) Alexander Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Loughborough, was
born in or near Edinburgh in 1733. He attained distinction at
the bar, and entered Parliament early in the reign of George III.
As a politician he was equally notorious for his skill in debate
and his want of public principle. Previously a member of the
opposition, he ratted to the Government in 1771, and was rewarded
by Lord North with the Solicitor-Generalship. He defended Lord
Clive in 1773. When Thurlow became Lord Chancellor (in 1778),
Wedderburn succeeded him in the office of Attorney-General. In
1786 he was made Chief justice of the Court of Common Pleas, and
called to the House of Peers by the title of Baron Loughborough.
After this we find him acting as a follower of Charles Fox, and
leader of the Whig party in the House of Lords. He supported
Fox's views on the Regency question in 1788-9, but when the split
in the Whig party on the subject of the French Revolution took
place, Loughborough, like Burke, gave his support to the
government. In January, 1793, he obtained the long coveted post
of Lord Chancellor. He died January 1, 1805. A story goes that
when the news of Loughborough's death was brought to George III.,
"his majesty was graciously pleased to exclaim, 'Then he has not
left a greater knave behind him in my dominions.'" (Campbell's
"Lives of the Chancellors," vol. vi., p. 334.)-ED.
(367) Thomas Erskine (born 1750, died 1823), "If less eminent in
the law, was a far more respectable politician than Loughborough,
although his parliamentary career was by no means so brilliant.
He was a consistent Whig, with the courage of his convictions.
He lost his post of Attorney-General to the Prince of Wales
through his defence of Thomas Paine, author of the famous "Rights
of Man," in December, 1792. Fired by the example of the French
Revolutionists, the friends of liberty in England were, about
this time, everywhere forming themselves into political
associations, for the purpose of promoting Parliamentary reform,
and generally "spreading the principles of freedom." By the
government these societies were regarded as seditious. Erskine
was a member of one or more of these associations, and one of his
most brilliant triumphs at the bar was connected with the
prosecution by government (October, 1794), of Hardy Thelwall and
Horne Tooke for high treason, as members of one of these supposed
seditious societies. The prisoners were defended by Erskine and
acquitted. Erskine became Lord Chancellor in 1806 after the
death of Pitt.-ED.
(368) On his own admission Erskine was a member of the Society of
Friends of the People about the end of 1792-ED.
(369) With all his talents Erskine was always noted for his
inordinate vanity.-ED.
(370) The famous Lord Chief justice. He died in 1793, aged
eighty-eight years.-ED.
(371) Alderman Boydell's celebrated "Shakspeare Gallery" in Pall
Mall, contained paintings illustrative of Shakspeare by Reynolds,
Romney, Fuseli, and many others of the most distinguished
painters of the day. The entire collection, comprising one
hundred and seventy works, was sold by auction by Christie, in
May, 1805.-ED.
(372) For Arthur Young, see postea, vol. iii., p. 17. Bradfield
Farm, his home was in Suffolk, in the neighbourhood of Bury St.
Edmunds.-ED.