But more peculiarly this new residence was opened by the distinction of
a new acquaintance, who was then as much the immediate lion of the day,
as had been the last new acquaintance, Omiah, who had closed the annals
of the residence in Queen-Square.
This personage was no other than the famous Mr. Bruce, who was just
returned to England, after having been wandering, and thought to be
lost, during four years, in the deserts and sands of the hitherto
European-untrodden territory of Africa, in search of the source, or
sources, of the Nile.
The narrations, and even the sight of Mr. Bruce, were at this time
vehemently sought, not only by all London, but, as far as written
intercourse could be stretched, by all Europe.
The tales spread far and wide, first of his extraordinary disappearance
from the world, and next of his unexpected re-appearance in the heart
of Africa, were so full of variety, as well as of wonder, that they
raised equal curiosity in the most refined and the most uncultivated of
his contemporaries.
Amongst these multifarious rumours, there was one that aroused in
Dr. Burney a more eager desire to see and converse with this eminent
traveller, than was felt even by the most ardent of the inquirers who
were pressing upon him, in successive throngs, for intelligence.
The report here alluded to, asserted, that Mr. Bruce had discovered,
and personally visited, the long-famed city of Thebes; and had found it
such as Herodotus had described: and that he had entered and examined
its celebrated temple; and had made, and brought home, a drawing of
the Theban harp, as beautiful in its execution as in its form, though
copied from a model of at least three thousand years old.
Mr. Bruce had brought, also, from Egypt, a drawing of an Abyssinian
lyre in present use.
The assiduity of Dr. Burney in devising means of introduction to
whosoever could increase, or ameliorate, the materials of his history,
was not here put to any proof. Mr. Bruce had been an early friend of
Mrs. Strange, and of her brother, Mr. Lumisden; and that zealous lady
immediately arranged a meeting between the parties at her own house.
As this celebrated narrator made the opening of his career as an
author, in the History of Music of Dr. Burney; to the éclat of which,
on its first appearance, he not slightly contributed, by bestowing upon
it the two admirable original drawings above-mentioned, with a letter
historically descriptive of their authenticity; some account of him
seems naturally to belong to this place: and the Editor is persuaded,
that two or three genuine, though juvenile letters which she wrote,
at the time, to Mr. Crisp, may be more amusing to the reader, from
their natural flow of youthful spirits, in describing the manners and
conversation of this extraordinary wanderer, than any more steady
recollections that could at present be offered from the same pen.
And, led by this persuasion, she here copies a part of her early and
confidential correspondence with her father’s, her family’s, and her
own first friend.[47]
“TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ.
“_Chesington, near Kingston, Surrey._
“_St. Martins Street, 1775._
“Well, now then, my dear Daddy,[48] I have got courage to obey your
call for more! more! more! without fear of fatiguing you, for I have
seen the great man-mountain, Mr. Bruce; and have been in his high and
mighty presence three times; as I shall proceed to tell you in due form
and order, and with all the detail you demand.
“MEETING THE FIRST
took place at the tea-table, at Mrs. Strange, to which my mother, by
appointment, had introduced her Lynn friends, Mr. and Mrs. Turner, who
were extremely curious to see Mr. Bruce. My dear father was to have
escorted us; but that provoking mar-plot, commonly called Business,
came, as usual, in the way, and he could only join us afterwards.
“The man-mountain, and Mr. and Mrs. Turner, were already arrived; and
no one else was invited, or, at least, permitted to enter.
“Mr. Bruce, as we found, when he arose—which he was too stately to
do at once—was placed on the largest easy chair; but which his vast
person covered so completely, back and arms, as well as seat, that
he seemed to have been merely placed on a stool; and one was tempted
to wonder who had ventured to accommodate him so slightly. He is the
tallest man you ever saw in your life—at least, _gratis_. However,
he has a very good figure, and is rather handsome; so that there is
nothing alarming, or uncomely, or, I was going to say, ungenial—but I
don’t think that is the word I mean—in his immense and authoritative
form.
“My mother was introduced to him, and placed by his side; but, having
made her a cold, though civilish bow, he took no further notice even
of her being in the room. I, as usual, glided out of the way, and got
next to Miss Strange, who is agreeable and sensible: and who, seeing
me, I suppose, very curious upon the subject, gave me a good deal of
information about Man-Mountain.
“As he is warmly attached to Mrs. Strange and her family, he spends all
his disengaged evenings at their house, where, when they are alone, he
is not only chatty and easy, but full of comic and dry humour; though,
if any company enters, he sternly, or gloatingly, Miss Strange says,
shuts up his mouth, and utters not a word—except, perhaps, to her
parrot; which, I believe, is a present from himself. Certainly he does
not appear more elevated above the common race in his size, than in his
ideas of his own consequence. Indeed, I strongly surmise, that he is
not always without some idea how easy it would be to him—and perhaps
how pleasant—in case any one should dare to offend him, to toss a
whole company of such pigmies as the rest of mankind must seem to him,
pell-mell down stairs,—if not out of the window.
“There is some excuse, nevertheless, for this proud shyness, because
he is persuaded that nobody comes near him but either to stare at him
as a curiosity, or to pick his brains for their own purposes: for,
when he has deigned to behave to people as if he considered himself as
their fellow-creature, every word that has been drawn from him has been
printed in some newspaper or magazine; which, as he intends to publish
his travels himself, is abominably provoking; and seems to have made
him suspicious of some dark design, or some invidious trick, when any
body says to him ‘How do you do, Sir?’ or, ‘Pray, Sir, what’s o’clock?’
“And, after all, if his nature in itself is as imperious as his person
and air are domineering, it is hardly fair to expect that having lived
so long among savages should have softened his manners.
“Well, when all the placements, and so forth, were over, we went to
tea. There’s an event for you, my dear Sir!
“There was, however, no conversation. Mr. Bruce’s grand air, gigantic
height, and forbidding brow, awed every body into silence, except Mrs.
Strange; who, with all her wit and powers, found it heavy work to talk
without reply.
“But Mr. Turner suffered the most. He is, you know, a very jocular
man, and cannot bear to lose his laugh and his _bon mot_. Yet he durst
not venture at either; though he is so accustomed to indulge in both,
and very successfully, in the country, that he seemed in blank dismay
at finding himself kept in such complete subordination by the fearful
magnitude of Mr. Bruce, joined to the terror of his looks.
“Mrs. Turner, still less at her ease, because still less used to the
company of strangers, attempted not to obtain any sort of notice. Yet,
being gay in her nature, she, too, did not much like being placed
so totally in the back ground. But she was so much impressed by the
stateliness of this renowned traveller, that I really believe she sat
saying her prayers half the evening, that she might get away from the
apartment without some affront.
“Pray have you happened to read a paragraph in the newspapers,
importing that Mr. Bruce was dying, or dead? My father, who had seen
him alive and well the day before it appeared, cut it out, and wafered
it upon a sheet of paper, and sent it to him without comment.
“My mother now inquired of Mr. Bruce whether he had seen it?
“‘Yes,’ answered he, coolly; ‘but they are welcome to say what
they please of me. I read my death with great composure.’ Then,
condescending to turn to me,—though only, I doubt not, to turn away
from my elders,—he added: ‘Were you not sorry, Miss Burney, to hear
that I was dead?’
“Finding him thus address himself, and rather courteously, for he
really smiled, to so small a personage as your very obedient servant,
Mr. Turner, reviving, gathered courage to open his mouth, and, with
a put-on air of easy jocularity, ventured to exclaim, with a laugh,
‘Well, sir, as times go, I think, when they killed you, it is very well
they said no harm of you.’
“‘I know of no reason they had!’ replied Mr. Bruce, in so loud a tone,
and with an air of such infinite haughtiness, that poor Mr. Turner,
thus repulsed in his first attempt, never dared to again open his lips.
“Soon afterwards, a servant came into the room, with General Melville’s
compliments, and he begged to know of Mrs. Strange whether it was true
that Mr. Bruce was so dangerously ill.
“‘Yes!’ cried he, bluffly; ‘tell the General I am dead.’
“‘Ay, poor soul! poor mon!’ cried Mrs. Strange, ‘I dare say he has been
vexed enough to hear such a thing! Poor honest mon! I dare be sworn he
never wronged or deceived a human being in all his life.’
“‘Will you, faith?’ cried Mr. Bruce: ‘Will you be sworn to that? It’s
more than I would dare to be for any man alive! Do you really think he
has risen to the rank of General, with so little trouble?’
“‘Troth, yes,’ she answered; ‘you men, you know, never deceive men! you
have too much honour for that. And as to us women,—ah, troth! the best
among you canno’ deceive me! for whenever you say pretty things to me,
I make it a rule to believe them all to be true: so the prettier the
better!’
“Miss Bell Strange, the youngest daughter, a very sensible little girl,
about ten years old, now brought him his tea. He took it, in chucking
her under the chin; which was evidently very annoying to her, as a
little womanly consciousness is just stealing upon her childhood: but,
not heeding that, he again turned to me, and said, ‘Do you know, Miss
Burney, that I intend to run away with Bell? We are going to Scotland
together. She won’t let me rest till I take her to Gretna Green.’
“‘La! how can you say so, sir,?’ cried Bell, colouring, and much
fidgetted. ‘Pray, Ma’am, don’t believe it!’
“‘Why, how now, Bell?—What! won’t you go?’
“‘No, sir, I won’t!’ answered Bell, very demurely.
“‘Well,’ cried he, with a scoffing smile, and rising, ‘this is the
first lady that ever refused me.’
“He then inquired of Mrs. Strange whether she had heard any thing
lately of Lord R., of whom they joined in drawing a most odious
character; especially for his avarice. And when they had finished the
portrait, Mr. Bruce, advancing his great figure towards me, exclaimed,
‘And yet this man is my rival!’
“‘Really?’ cried I, hardly knowing what he expected I should say, but
afraid to affront him by a second total silence.
“‘O, it’s true!’ returned he, in a tone that implied _though not
credible_; ‘Is it not true, Mrs. Strange, that he is my rival?’
“‘Troth, they say so,’ answered she, calmly.
“‘I wonder he should dare!’ cried my mother. ‘I wonder he should not
apprehend that the long residence in Egypt of Mr. Bruce, had made him
so well acquainted with magic, that’—
“‘O,’ interrupted Mr. Bruce, coolly, ‘I shall not poison him. But I
may bribe his servant to tie a rope across his staircase, on some dark
night, and then, as I dare say the miserly wretch never allows himself
a candle to go up and down stairs, he may get a tumble, and break his
neck.’
“This idea set him into a fit of laughter quite merry to behold; and
as I caught, from surprise, a little of its infection, he was again
pleased to address himself to me, and to make inquiry whether I was
musical; expressing his hopes that he should hear me play, when Mrs.
Strange fulfilled her engagement of bringing him to our house; adding,
that he had a passionate love of music.
“‘I was once,’ said Mrs. Strange, ‘with a young lady, a friend of mine,
when she was at a concert for the first time she ever heard any music,
except nursery lullabys, or street holla-balloos, or perhaps a tune
on a fiddle by some poor blind urchin. And the music was very pretty,
and quite tender; and she liked it so well, it almost made her swoon;
and she could no’ draw her breath; and she thrilled all over; and sat
sighing and groaning, and groaning and sighing, with over-much delight,
till, at last, she burst into a fit of tears, and sobbed out, ‘I can’t
help it!’
“‘There’s a woman,’ said Mr. Bruce, with some emotion, ‘who could never
make a man unhappy! Her soul must be all harmony.’
“My dear father now arrived; and he and Mr. Bruce talked apart for the
rest of the evening, upon the harp and the letter.
“But when the carriage was announced, imagine my surprise to see this
majestic personage take it into his fancy to address something to me
almost in a whisper! bending down, with no small difficulty, his head
to a level with mine. What it was I could not hear. Though perhaps
’twas some Abyssinian compliment that I could not understand! It’s
flattery, however, could not have done me much mischief, after Miss
Strange’s information, that, when he is not disposed to be social with
the company at large, he always singles out for notice the youngest
female present—except, indeed, a dog, a bird, a cat, or a squirrel, be
happily at hand.
“As I had no ‘retort courteous’ ready, he grandly re-erected himself to
the fullest extent of his commanding height; setting me down, I doubt
not, in his black book, for a tasteless imbecile. Every body, however,
as all his motions engage all attention, looked so curious, that my
only gratitude for his condescension, was heartily wishing him at one
of the mouths of his own famous Nile.
“Will you not wish me there too, my dearest Mr. Crisp, for this long
detail, without one word of said Nile, and its endless sources? or of
Thebes and its hundred gates? or of the two harps of harps that are to
decorate the History of Music? But nothing of all this occurred; except
it might be in his private confab. with my father.
“You demanded, however, an account of his manner, his air, and his
discourse; and what sort of mode, or fashion, he had brought over from
Ethiopia.
“And here, so please you, all that is at your feet.
“I have only to add, that his smile, though rare, is really graceful
and engaging. But his laugh, when his dignity is off its guard, and
some sportive or active mischief comes across his ideas—such as the
image of his miserly rival, Lord R., dangling from a treacherous rope
on his own staircase; or tumbling headlong down,—is a chuckle of
delight that shines his face of a bright scarlet, and shakes his whole
vast frame with a boyish ecstacy.
“But I forgot to mention, that while Mr. Bruce was philandering with
little Miss Bell Strange, who, with comic childish dignity, resented
his assumed success, he said he believed he had discovered the reason
of her shyness; ‘Somebody has told you, I suppose, Bell, that when I
am taken with a hungry fit in my rambles, I make nothing of seizing
on a young bullock, and tying him by the horns to a tree, while I cut
myself off a raw beef-steak, and regale myself upon it with its own
cold gravy? according to my custom in Abyssinia? Perhaps, Bell, you may
think a young heifer might do as well? and are afraid you might serve
my turn, when my appetite is rather keen, yourself? Eh, Bell?’
* * * * *
“You have accepted Meeting the First with so much indulgence, my dear
Mr. Crisp, that I am all alertness for presenting you with