Complete Works of Frances Burney

by Frances Burney

  Mr. Burney and Hetty then played a duet on the harpsichord and piano forte of Mr. Burney’s composition, for they kept Muthel till his Highness arrived. Lady Edgecumbe expressed herself in terms of the most lively pleasure, and was so animated and interested during the performance, that, added to her adoring Agujari, I quite adored her. Indeed she was the life of the company, for she was so chatty, spirited, and easy, that she dispelled all sort of ceremony, distance, or fussation.

  Tat, tat, tat. — Enter Lord Bruce. He is younger brother to Mr. Brudenal, but an uncle who took very much to him, settled his estate and barony upon him. He looks a tall raw-boned Scotchman, but he is a most polite and agreeable man. He said he had been very unfortunate in losing a full hour, from a mistake of his servants, who drove him to St. Martin’s Lane, where he had been danced up and down from top to bottom, and at last was in such a passion at their stupidity in not finding the house that he jumped out of his carriage, swore an oath or two, and began enquiring himself till he was directed right.

  Mrs. Brudenal was now so obliging as to sing. She gave us a little pastoral cantabile, of very elegant, sweet music, from Rauzzini’s Piramo and Thisbé, with which you were much pleased at Chesington. She has a fine voice, and sings, my father says, in the style of the good old school. She has a very pretty shake, and sings very chastly, not with vile graces and trills. But she was dreadfully frightened, which caused her to sing out of tune at times, though happily not always.

  When she had done, I turned about and said to Mr. Charnier—” What pretty music!” He made no answer, but gave me such a look, expressive of satire and drollery, that unable to keep my countenance I was forced precipitately to retreat into the dining room. He soon after came there himself. I expostulated with him upon his cruelty in driving me out of the room. He was pleased to say he was sure I thought what he looked. I told him, which is truth, that he was very difficult and severe. “A singer who sings out of tune,” cried he, “is not to be borne!”

  “She was extremely frightened,” answered I, “and that ought to be allowed for.”

  “But,” cried he, “those who wont open their mouths (N.B. Mrs. Brudenal sings with hers almost shut) ought to be dumb; and those who cannot sing in tune, I could excuse from singing at all.”

  “O!” cried I, “how many voices would you silence at this rate! and how few lady singers would you leave!”

  “No matter,” returned he, “a candle that does not give a good light ought to have an extinguisher put on it.”

  More music now called us back into the library. Mr. Charnier was very curious to know if that was not the room which Sir Isaac used to study in? and which my father used for that purpose?”

  “No, no,” said I, “this is quite superb to the study; you never saw such a scene of confusion as that is!”

  “It’s quite a dungeon is it? well that’s all as it should be. But you have Sir Isaac’s Observatory, have not you?”.... I remember that he once before asked me, very seriously, if I did not think my father’s real motive for coming into this house was that it had been Sir Isaac’s. Mrs. Brudenal now began another song. I told Mr. Charnier that I should take care not to look at him when it was over. He promised he would not say a word; but I mixed in with the crowds and would not trust myself near him.

  I forgot to tell you that Mr. Harris is among those who admire the Gabrielli above all singers....

  I have filled my three sheets before my time, but if you wish for the remnant of this evening you have but to say so....

  Write soon if you desire to have the Prince [Orloff ] introduced to you. I can’t possibly, without you send his Highness a card first; or, as I am your Sir Clement Cotterel, why if you send one to me, I will endeavour to manage an interview. Pray tell me your health is better.

  Yours [ever and] ever and ever F. B.

  The Gabriella so fills up this letter that I must beg you to excuse any answer to your letter till I write again when I will tell you about the [Yours?], &c.

  Novr. 16th.

  The celebrated singer, La Gabrielli, made her first appearance upon the Opera stage last Saturday. She had frequently disappointed the public by deferring the opera, after it was promised; but she had only heightened expectation by this coquetry; and the crowd to see and hear her, was prodigious. Tho’, I have been tiring myself with writing so long an account of her to Mr. Crisp, that my journal must be contented with a very short one.

  The Opera was [the] Didone of Metastasio; the very same that la Bastardella sung so many songs from, though new-set. The entrance of the Gabrielli was noble. The stage was open to the bottom, and she appeared at the most distant part, and marched forward quite close to the orchestra, amidst the most violent acclamation of applause. She has a pretty figure, rather short, but charmingly proportioned; her face is also very pretty. She still looks very young, is rather plump and is perfectly graceful. She walks extremely well, and has great dignity in her air. Her voice is feeble, but sweetly toned. She has great powers of execution; but — she is no Agujari!

  Our party were all disappointed: myself the least, and yet very much. Mr. Burney and Hetty even dislike her. Susette is rather more moderate; and my father whose candour and indulgence equal his judgement, was much better satisfied with her than any of his saucy children * * * *

  As an actress, her motions are elegant and judicious; but she seems to want spirit and animation. The whole town seems divided in opinion about her; some think her the finest singer we have ever had; others prefer not only the Agujari, but Miss Davis and... Some say that her cold disabled her from exerting her powers, others, that her sister (a villainous singer), being hissed, put her so much out of humour, that she would not sing; while others say that she is passée, and has lost entirely those powers, by which she has hitherto fascinated all who have heard her. What is the real truth, nothing but a future hearing can show. For my part, I was so sanguine, that nothing less than an Agujari could have contented me.

  The day after, Sunday, we had a very great party of company, concerning which, as they were very agreeable, I shall be very loquacious, for I think that term may be not ill applied to writings at times, as well as speech.

  [MR. CRISP TO Miss BURNEY.]

  Ches. Nov. 19.

  DEAR FANNY,

  That I wish for the remnant of your evening concert, is saying nothing. You have learn’d from that R[ogue] your father (by so long serving as amanuensis, I suppose) to make your descriptions alive, — send the remainder, therefore, without a moments delay; — while breathing, and warm. I am now convinc’d I had entertain’d a true and clear idea of Mrs. Gabriel; and form’d a just estimate of the comparative merits of her and Bastardini; for which I claim nothing to myself, but readily give it all to your faithful portraits of both. The pen, as well as the pencil, sometimes exhibits pictures with such strong marks of nature, that one instantly pronounces them like, without having seen the originals. I can, not only excuse, but applaud Hetty, for her outrageous preference of Agujari, and I love Charles for being prodigiously let down.

  As for that Rogue your father, I could lick him for his affected coolness and moderation [some strong words are here erased] if it were not for one consideration, which it must be own’d, has, and ought to have, some weight with him — I mean, the rank he holds in the musical world; which, not unreasonably, may check him from giving the sanction of his opinion in disfavour of so trumpeted a character; now present in England; and in contradiction to great and powerful Numbers, Numbers! — to whom without grain of talents or feeling, some demon has whisper’d Numbers have a taste!

  But.... to tell one gravely that Gabriel has a very weak voice, — or a weak voice, — but very sweet and polish’d, &c. &c.! — and then compare her, or prefer to the Bastard, who, besides sweetness and taste, has all the powers of thunder and lightning in her, who can mark at pleasure every passage with what degree of strength and softness, light and shade, she pleases; who can strike you speechless with majesty, or melt
you with tenderness in the change of a moment! — I would recommend to such worthy judges, the sing-song and prettiness of Waller and Cowley, in preference to the sublimity of Milton and Homer. I shall set my mark upon your Harris’s, Bromfeilds, &c. &c with regard to music, however. Adieu, I am far from well. Write directly. All here whom you love, return it sincerely. Mine to the aforesaid rogue, and all the creatures. Adieu, your loving daddy, S. C.

  Nov. 21.

  My father had a little Concert in honour of Prince Orloff, of Russia, at the request of Dr. King, to whom he was patron during his chaplainship in Petersburg.

  This Prince is, by some, supposed to be the very man, who seized the late Czar; but however that may have been, he was certainly the man, who was honoured with the Czarina’s most unbounded favour, loaded with marks of distinction, and known as the chief influencer of her conduct, and favourite of her heart. He went lately on an Embassy to Constantinople, about the Peace with the Turks; and on his return found that the Empress had suffered some other to supplant him in her good graces; and this has induced him to travel, and occasioned his visit to England. Many Russians of distinction are in his suite, and they were all invited here.... But I shall introduce all who came in the same order of time and precedence that they introduced themselves. And first, therefore, —

  Enter the Dean of Winchester. He is very clever and agreeable; but I fancy somewhat too much inclined to severity in his judgements, and that from a tendency to satire, not from bigotry or contraction, for he is perfectly liberal-minded, unaffected, and free from parade or littleness.

  Dr. Burney. Was you at the Opera last [night], Mr. Dean?

  Dean of Winchester. No, Sir; I made an attempt, but soon retreated; for I hate a crowd, — as much as the ladies love it, — I beg pardon! (bowing to we fair sex).

  Dr. Burney. The Gabrielli is a very fine singer; but she has not voice enough for the people of this country; she will never please John.

  Hetty (pulling his sleeve). Nay, Sir — now don’t call me John!

  Enter Dr. King. The Doctor was quite the thing to-night, and figured amazingly; but he was, as usual fade, imposing, and insipid.

  Enter Lady Edgecumbe. We all had the honour to be in troduced to her, and to meet a most gracious reception. She seems to me a very clever, lively, quick, discerning woman, and was totally free from airs and superiority.

  Dr. Burney. Your Ladyship was doubtless at the Opera last night?

  Lady Edgecumbe. Oh, yes! but I have not heard the Gabrielli! no; I will not allow that I have heard her yet.

  Dr. Burney. Your Ladyship expected a more powerful voice?

  Lady Edgecumbe. Why no; not that; the shadow tells me what the substance must be. She cannot have acquired this great name throughout Europe for nothing; but I repeat, I have not yet heard her; so I will not judge. She had certainly a bad cold.

  Dean of Winchester. But, Lady Edgecumbe, may not Gabrielli have great powers, and yet too weak a voice for a great Theatre?

  Lady Edgecumbe. Our Theatre, Mr. Dean, is of no size compared to those she has been accustomed to abroad. Agujari would have greatly filled the Theatre. Indeed, she could fill the Pantheon.

  Hetty, Fanny, Sukey. Oh, Agujari!

  Dr. Burney. Your La’ship wins all their hearts by speaking of Agujari. She is adored here.

  Lady Edgecumbe. O! she is divine! only mark the difference, Dr. Burney; by the Gabrielli, Rauzzini seems to have a most powerful voice; by the Agujari, he seems a child.

  Dr. King (pushing himself forward). But, with submission, I humbly beg leave to ask your Ladyship, if Gabrielli has yet done herself justice?

  Lady Edgecumbe. Certainly not. But, Dr. Burney, I have heard Monticelli; I have heard Manzoli; and I have heard Mingotti; and I shall never hear them again! — And, — I have heard the Agujari; and I shall never hear her again!

  Dr. Burney. O, but I hope you will hear her again; I hope we shall, some time or other, see her on the Opera-stage.

  Lady Edgecumbe. I know that she herself wished it. Do pray, Dr. Burney, speak to Mrs. Yates about her. Let her know that it is her own desire to be heard at the Theatre.

  Dr. Burney. The engagements with Gabrielli must first be over; and after that I have no doubt but Agujari will succeed her.

  Lady Edgecumbe. O, then I shall be quite crazy!

  Hetty, Fanny, Susette. O, I hope she will!

  Dean of Winchester. But why may we not have Agujari here now, and so hear them together?

  Dr. Burney. O, that would be impossible; the rivalry would be too strong; they would be Cesar and Pompey.

  Lady Edgecumbe. Pompey the Little, then, I am sure, would Gabrielli be!

  Enter The Honble. Mr. & Mrs. Brudenel.

  Mr. Brudenel is second brother to The Duke of Montague. His Lady was Miss Legge, sister of Lord Dartmouth. Mr. Brudenel has a tall and imposante figure; he is a good deal in the present ton, which is not Macaronyism; but consists of a certain freedom of manners, and a dry, short, abrupt method of speech, by no means to me agreeable Mrs. Brudenel is a very obliging and pretty sort of woman, and a female dilettante of great fame and reputation in the Beau Monde as a singer. The Question of the night was immediately asked, of, How did you like Gabrielli?

  Mrs. Brudenel. O, Lady Edgecumbe and I are exactly of the same opinion; we agree that we have not heard her yet.

  Lady Edgecumbe. The ceremony of her quitting the house, after the Opera is over, is extremely curious: First, goes a man in a livery, to clear the way; then follows the sister; then, the Gabrielli herself; then a page to hold her train; and lastly, another man, who carries her muff, in which is her little lap-dog.

  Mr. Brudenel. But where is Lord March all this time?

  Lady Edgecumbe. O — he, you know, is Lord of the BedChamber!

  Enter Mr. Boone (I omit all compliments, and so forth, as things of course.)

  Mr. Boone. I broke my sword in coming up stairs. Indeed, I wonder I did not break my neck.

  Dr. Burney. I am afraid that speaks ill for my stairs! Yet I assure you they were constructed by Sir Isaac Newton, not by me.

  Mr. Boone. Indeed? why, was this Sir Isaac’s house?

  Dr. Burney. Yes; really.

  Mr. Boone. But I hope he did not leave you this fine ceiling? (N.B. The ceiling is prodigiously painted and ornamented.)

  Dr. Burney. Nay, Sir; I hope you don’t suspect me of being such a coxcomb; for I swear I did not do it!

  Enter Mr. Charnier. This Mr. Charnier is an extremely agreeable man, and the very pink of gallantry. He immediately seated himself by Susy and me, and indeed, was the whole evening constantly engaged with one or other of us. He is a married man, and an intimate friend of my father’s, therefore we were by no means shy of him Mr. Charnier. I hope, ladies, you were entertained at the Opera last night? Gabrielli is charming; I had the happiness of sitting next Dr. Burney.

  Susette. I believe I saw you, Sir, in the pit.

  Mr. Charnier. I was very sorry I could not see you; I looked for you.

  Fanny. O, we were at an humble distance — in the gallery.

  Susette. I think we were, rather, at an exalted distance.

  Mr. Charnier. I heard where you were; for though I had not the pleasure of seeing you, I did not fail to enquire where you were. But you liked Gabrielli?

  Fanny. I never expected so much in my life! I was really quite agitated — I could not listen to a note of the overture —

  Mr. Charnier. Well! I am sure she answered to you?

  Fanny. Why, I own my expectations were too high raised.

  Mr. Charnier. But she had a cold; you must consider this as a mere échantillon.

  Hetty. A very weak and feeble one — (between her teeth).

  Mr. Charnier. The crowd was so great, that I was detained a full hour, after the last dance, in the Coffee-Room, where we settled the affairs of the Opera.

  Fanny. Then I am sure there could be no dearth of conversation; for there are so many different opinions concerning Ga
brielli, —

  Mr. Charnier. Oh, no; there is scarce a division; it is not at all the ton to like her: à est peu de chose! (with a Macarony shrug).

  Enter Mr. Harris. This charming old man made us all happy by his company. Lady Edgecumbe rose to meet him, with a respect due to his age and character, declaring herself very glad at seeing an old friend. We soon found that he was a Gabrielli man: indeed no two persons seem to think exactly the same of that singer. When he came to speak to us, I told him that we were afraid he would be tired of hearing the same thing again, as my father had failed in his wishes and endeavours of varying the entertainment by some singers, because every performer he applied to, happened to be either ill or engaged. “That is the very reason,” said he, “that I wished to come again, because I was so much pleased with the duet, when I first heard it, that I desire nothing so much as a repetition of the same pleasure.”

  Enter M. Le Baron de Demidoff. This Russian nobleman brought excuses from Prince Orloff for his late appearance, which was owing to his being obliged to show himself at Lady Harrington’s rout; but His Highness desired the music might not be deferred on his account. My father, therefore, led the way into the library, followed by Lady Edgecumbe &c.; and Mr. Burney sat down to the harpsichord. After his solo, my sister took the piano forte; and they played a new Duet, of Mr. Burney’s composition; for Müthel was kept till the arrival of the Prince. The music was very deservedly much admired, and the effect of the two instruments together met with the greatest admiration and applause. As to Lady Edgecumbe, she was quite in raptures. Being herself a performer of reputation in the lady world, she was able to feel and to judge the merit of the performers and performance at once.