I have something to relate now that both my dearest friends will take
great pleasure in hearing, because it appertains to my dignity and
consequence. The queen, in the most gracious manner, desired me this
morning to send an invitation to M. Mithoff, a German clergyman, to come
to dinner; and she added, “I assure you he is a very worthy man, of very
excellent character, or I would not ask you to invite him.”
Was not this a very sweet manner of making over to me the presidency of
the table in Mrs. Schwellenberg's absence?
It was for the next day, and I sent John to him immediately; rather
awkward, though, to send my compliments to a man I had never seen, and
invite him to dine with me. But there was no other mode--I could not
name the queen. I knew Miss Port would be happy to make us a trio, and I
begged her not to fail me.
But alas!--If awkwardness was removed, something worse was substituted
in its place; my presidency was abolished on the very day it was to be
declared, by the sudden return of its rightful superseder. I acquainted
her with the invitation I had been desired to send, and I told her I
had also engaged Miss Port. I told of both as humbly as possible, that I
might raise no alarms of any intention of rivalry in power.
Mr. Mithoff was not yet come when dinner was announced, nor yet Miss
Port; we sat down tete-a-tete, myself in some pain for my invitations,
my companion well content to shew she would wait for none of my making.
At length came Miss Port, and presently after a tall German clergyman
entered the room. I was a little confused by his immediately making
up to me, and thanking me in the strongest terms for the honour of my
invitation, and assuring me it was the most flattering one he had ever
received.
I answered as short as I could, for I was quite confounded by the looks
of Mrs. Schwellenberg. Towards me they were directed with reproach, and
towards the poor visitor with astonishment: why I could not imagine, as
I had frequently heard her speak of M. Mithoff with praise.
Finding nothing was said to him, I was obliged to ask him to take a
place at the table myself, which he did; still, and with great glee of
manner, addressing himself wholly to me, and never finishing his warm
expressions of gratitude for my invitation. I quite longed to tell him
I had her majesty's orders for what I had done, that he might cease his
most unmerited acknowledgments; but I could not at that time. The dinner
went off very ill. Nobody said a word but this gentleman, and he spoke
only to do himself mischief.
When we all adjourned to Mrs. Schwellenberg's room upstairs, for coffee,
my new guest again poured forth such a torrent of thanks, that I could
not resist taking the first opportunity to inform him he owed me no such
strong obligation, as I had simply obeyed the commands of the queen.
“The queen!” he exclaimed, with yet greater enchantment; “then I am very
happy indeed, madam; I had been afraid at first there was some mistake
in the honour you did me.”
“It might have seemed a mistake indeed, sir,” cried I, “if you supposed
I had taken the liberty of making you such an invitation, without the
pleasure of knowing you myself.”
Mrs. Schwellenberg, just after, calling me aside, said, “For what have
you brought me this man?”
I could make no answer, lest he should hear me, for I saw him look
uneasily towards us; and therefore, to end such interrogations, I turned
to him, and asked how many days he should continue at Windsor. He looked
surprised, and said he had no thought of leaving it.
It was my turn to look surprised now; I had heard he only came upon her
majesty's commands, and was to stay but a day or two. I now began to
suspect some mistake, and that my message had gone to a wrong person. I
hastened, therefore, to pronounce the name of Mithoff, and my suspicion
was changed into certainty, by his telling me, with a stare, that it was
not his.
Imagine but my confusion at this information!--the queen's commission so
ill executed, M. Mithoff neglected, and some one else invited whose very
name I knew not!--nor did he, though my mistake now was visible, tell it
me. Yet he looked so much disappointed, that I thought it incumbent upon
me, since the blunder must have been my servant's, to do what I could to
comfort him. I therefore forced myself forward to talk to him, and pass
over the embarrassment but he was modest, and consequently overset, and
soon after took his leave.
I then cleared myself to Mrs. Schwellenberg of any voluntary deed in
“bringing her this man,” and inquired of John how it happened. He told
me he had forgot the gentleman's name, but as I had said he was a German
clergyman, he had asked for him as such, and thought this must be the
right person. I heard afterwards that this is a M. Schrawder, one of
the masters of the German language to the princesses. I gave all the
apologies in my power to him for the error....
The queen, at night, with great good humour, laughed at the mistake, and
only desired it might be rectified for the next day. Accordingly it was;
and M. Mithoff had an invitation for the next day, in proper order: that
is, from Mrs. Schwellenberg.
THE PRINCESS ROYAL's BIRTHDAY.
_Friday, Sept. 29_--This day the princess royal entered her twenty-first
year. I had the pleasure of being in the room with the queen when she
sent for her, early in the morning. Her majesty bid me stop, while she
went into another apartment to fetch her birthday gifts. The charming
princess entered with so modest, so composed an air, that it seemed as
if the day, with all its preparations for splendour, was rather solemn
than elevating to her. I had no difficulty, thus alone with her, in
offering my best wishes to her. She received them most gracefully, and
told me, with the most sensible pleasure, that the King had just been
with her, and presented to her a magnificent diamond necklace.
The queen then returned, holding in her hands two very pretty portfolios
for her drawings, and a very fine gold etui. The princess, in receiving
them with the lowest curtsey, kissed her hand repeatedly, while the
queen gave back her kisses upon her cheeks.
The king came in soon after, and the three youngest princesses. They all
flew to kiss the princess royal, who is affectionately fond of them all.
Princess Amelia shewed how fine she was, and made the queen admire
her new coat and frock; she then examined all the new dresses of her
sisters, and then looking towards me with some surprise, exclaimed, “And
won't Miss Burney be fine, too?”
I shall not easily forget this little innocent lesson. It seems all the
household dress twice on these birthdays--for their first appearance,
and for dinner--and always in something distinguished. I knew it not,
and had simply prepared for my second attire only, wearing in the
morning my usual white dimity great coat. I was a little out of
countenance; and the queen, probably perceiving it, said--
“Come hither, Amelia; who do you think is here--in Miss Burney's room?”
“Lany,” answered the quick little creature; for so she calls Mrs.
Delany, who had already exerted herself to come to the Lodge with her
congratulations.
The king, taking the hand of the little princess, said they would go and
see her; and turning to the queen as they left the room, called out,
“What shall we do with Mrs. Delany?”
“What the king pleases,” was her answer.
I followed them to my room, where his majesty stayed some time, giving
that dear old lady a history of the concert of the preceding evening,
and that he had ordered for this day for the princess royal. It
is rather unfortunate her royal highness should have her birth-day
celebrated by an art which she even professes to have no taste for, and
to hear almost with pain.
The king took Mrs. Delany to breakfast with himself and family.
I wore my memorable present-gown this day in honour of the princess
royal. It is a lilac tabby. I saw the king for a minute at night, as
he returned from the Castle, and he graciously admired it, calling out
“Emily should see Miss Burney's gown now, and she would think her fine
enough.”