Complete Works of Frances Burney

by Frances Burney

  His jewels, Dr. King says, are valued at above £100,000. He was extremely gracious and polite, and appeared to be addicted to pleasantry. He speaks very little English but knows French perfectly. He was received by my father in the dining room. The library, where the music was, was so crowded, he only shewed himself at the door, where he bowed to Mr. Charnier, who had met with him elswhere.

  I felt myself so dwarfish by his high Highness, that I could not forbear whispering Mr. Charnier—” Lord, how I hate those enormous tall men!”

  “He has been less unfortunate,” answered he, archly, “elswhere! that objection has not been made to him by all ladies.” I knew he meant the Empress, but by no means desired a conversation on the subject, and told him that I only hated them because they made me, and such as me, look so very insignificant. You may be sure his gallantry would by no means subscribe to this speech, which was followed by the usual style of small talk.

  Lord Bruce rose and bowed very respectfully to the Prince, and quitting his seat to make way for him went to the further end of the room. “Ah!” cried Prince Orloff “milord me fuit!” Mr. Brudenal then offered his seat to his Highness, but he would not accept it, and declared that if he disturbed any body he would immediately retire: — he desired him, therefore to immediately re-seat himself, and when Mr. Brudenal demurred, he said, with a laugh, (in answer to Mr. B.’s pressing him to take his seat) “Non, non, Monsieur, je ne le veux pas, absolument, je suis opiniâtre, moi! je ne le veux pas! Je suis un peu comme Messieurs les Anglois!” He gained his point, and the Prince at last squatted himself on the corner of a form, just by Susey, who, as he seemed to shut her in, he called his petite prisonnière. Mr. Charnier, in a whisper, said—” I wish Dr. Burney would have had Omiah here, instead of Prince Orloff!”

  The grand duet of Muthel was then played. Added to the applause given to the music, everybody had something to say upon the singularity of the performers being man and wife. Mr. Boone said to me— “See what a man and his wife can do together, when they live in harmony!”

  “O, Dr. Burney,” cried Lady Edgecumbe, “you have set me a madding. I shall never bear any other music!” Lord Bruce, turning to Prince Orloff, told him the performers were mari et femme. The Prince seemed surprised, and walking up to Hetty made her many compliments, and expressed his wonder that two such performers should chance to be united; and added— “Mais, qu’a produit tant dJHarmonie?”

  “Rien, Monseigneur,” answered Hetty, laughing, “que trois enfans She vows she was irresistibly led to make this queer answer at the moment, but was sorry afterwards, for the Prince laughed immoderately; and went immediately to Lord Bruce, and repeated ce que Madame avoit dit, with many droll comments and observations, such as that such an harmonious secret should be communicated to the foreign academies; that it was of consequence to natural philosophy, &c., &c. Mr. Harris said he rejoiced, in these degenerate days, to see such Harmony in married people* “Your father,” said the Dean of Winchester, to me “has been so obliging as to make my girls undertake something of this sort; but it will never do for sisters. A man and his wife cannot take too much pains to shine together; but as to my girls, even if they succeed, they will, in a few years, be parted — at least they hope so!” Mr. Charnier joined warmly in the chorus of praise. He got himself into a little snug recess behind a book-case, and as he and I were engaged in a very witty confabulation, my mother came up to us, and said—” So, Fanny, I see you have got Mr. Charnier into a corner!” You must know, I don’t at all like these sort of jokes, which are by no means the ton, so I walked away. But Mr. Charnier answered—” No, ma’am, it is I that seek out a corner near where the lady inhabits.”

  General Bawr is a Hessian by birth, though now Lieutenant Général à sa S. M. H Impératrice de Russia. He wears two stars; he was in England formerly with the Hessian troops, and at Winchester, as the Dean informed us. Mr. Harris told us that he was a man to be looked at for that he had commanded during the Turkish war, with so much courage conduct and success, that his valour and spirit could not be too much admired. He is tall and rather thin, of a stem and martial aspect; but very well bred, and very fond of music. He speaks pretty good English, but came in so late that he missed both duets, which he much regretted.

  The Baron de Demidoff was likewise extremely delighted with the music. He is very thin and long-nosed, and has a most triste and meager countenance. When the duet was over he clapped his hand on his snuff-box with great vehemence, and called out with energy, [in broken English]—” Dis is so pretty as ever I heard in my life!”

  Lady Edgecumbe was introduced to Prince Orloff, whom she had never met with before. She entered into a flirtation with him, and was so courteous, and made so many reverences, that the Dean of Winchester (who is very satirical) observed afterwards that his diamonds and his Highness together had quite penetrated her ladyship. She invited him with great earnestness and great humility, to honour her with a visit, saying that though she had but a small house, she had a great ambition. Indeed it must be owned that it was great presumption in Lady Edgecumbe to invite any person she met with at Dr. Burney’s! [Ha, ha!]

  The conversation turned again upon Gabrielli. The Prince said she had by no means sung so well as in Russia. General Bawr declared that if he had shut his eyes, he should not have known the Gabrielli!

  I forget whether I told you of Gabrielli’s train as she quits the Opera House of a Saturday night? Take it now, however, as, Lady Edgecumbe told it. “First goes a running footman; then the sister; then the Gabrielli; then a page to hold up her train; then a footman; and then a man out of livery with her lap dog in her muff!”

  “But,” cried Mr. Brudenal, very drily, “where is Lord March all this time?”

  “O,” answered Lady Edgecumbe, “he, you know, is Lord of the Bedchamber.”

  Lady Edgecumbe being obliged to shew herself at Lady Harrington’s retired soon after the last duet. Mrs. Brudenal was going with her, but as she looked very soft and good natured, I ventured to ask her to favour us with another song, and though her cloak was on she was so obliging as to return. She sung much better than at first, and, for all Mr. Charnier, is a very good lady singer, and such a one as is not very frequently heard.

  When the room was a good deal thinned Mr. Harris told me he wished some of the ladies would express a desire of seeing the Empress’s picture nearer. “I, you know,” said he, “as a man cannot, but my old eyes can’t see it at a distance.” I went up to Dr. King and made the request to him. He hesitated some time, but afterwards hinted the demand to General Bawr, who boldly made it to the Prince. His Highness laughed, and with great good humour, desired the General to untie the picture from his neck, and present it to us; and he was very facetious upon the occasion, desiring to know if we wanted any thing else? and saying that if they pleased, the ladies might strip him entirely! Not very elegant, methinks, his pleasantry! When we got it there was hardly any looking at the Empress for the glare of the diamonds. Their size is almost incredible. One of them, I am sure, was as big as a nutmeg at least. When we were all satisfied it was returned, and the Prince, who most graciously made a bow to, and received a curtsie from, every one who looked at it.

  Well — and now, my dear Daddy, I think I have told you enough of this evening, which was indeed a most agreeable one, and replete with matter. Now as to the last concert, which you desire an account of, I have not so much to say; but take it as it was.

  It was given in honour of his Excellency the Count de Guignes, at the request of Lady Edgecumbe, who talked so much to him of the Duet, that he expressed a great desire to hear it. I think I will introduce the company, which was very select, in the same way as before, viz., as they introduced themselves to us.

  And, first, Enter the Earl of Ashburnham. He is just made Groom of the Stole and First Lord of the Bedchamber, and has a gold key hanging from his pocket. He is a thin, genteel man, perfectly well-bred, attentive, and elegant in his manners.

  Next, Ente
r Lord and Lady Edgecumbe. Lord Edgecumbe is short and squabby; he is droll and facetious, and never easy but when joking. Lady Edgecumbe expressed herself in the most civil terms of thanks for my father’s making this party at her desire. “ I am particularly obliged to you, Dr. Burney, for giving your time to my friends,” &c.

  Enter his Honour, Mr. Brudenal. Enough of him before.

  Enter Signor Rauzzini. Every eye brightened at his entrance. He looked like an angel. Nothing can be more beautiful than this youth. He has the complection of our Dick, — the very finest white and red I ever saw: his eyes are the sweetest in the world, at once soft and spirited: all his features are animated and charming. I am extremely pleased to find that he gains ground with the public daily. His friends encrease every opera night; the more they hear the more they like him, especially as at his first appearance he had the disadvantage of a terrible cold. Mr. Burney and Hetty are grown of late quite enraptured with him.

  “Avez vous une Assemblée chez vous tous les Dimanches?” cried he, to my father. “Je viendrai une autre fois quand je pourrai chanter.” Only think how we were let down! “Une autre fois!” cried Hetty; “Une autre fois!” echoed Susey; “Une autre fois!” still more pathetically echoed your humble servant.

  Mr. Brudenal soon after took Rauzzini aside to concert measures relative to his benefit. After which Lord Edgecumbe hurried in a droll manner up to Rauzzini to tell him of Gabriella’s ceremony on leaving the Opera House — though to be sure he must know most of that matter himself. Lord Edgecumbe speaks but indifferent French and referred every now and then to Lord Ashburnham in English. When he had told the whole parade, and came to “après cela, un valet, et puis, un autre avec le petit chien,” Rauzzini called out—” Et puis, un autre pour un singe, et un autre pour un perroquet!”

  “But,” added Lord Edgecumbe, to Lord Ashburnham, “last night, the dog was carried — only think how horrid! — by a woman in a handkerchief, instead of a gentleman in his hat! Now, my Lord, was not that enough to put any singer out of humour?” Rauzzini said he had dined with Gabrielli. “Comment se porte-t-elle?” cried Lady Edgecumbe. “Fort bien, Madame,” answered he. “Fort bien? — je suis bien fâchée!”

  “Comment donc?” cried he with some surprise. She answered that she was sorry Gabrielli should he well and not sing better.

  Enter His Excellency, Count de Guignes. The Count, when he first came from France, was esteemed to be a remarkably handsome man; but he is now grown so monstrous fat, and looks so sleek, that he is by no means an Adonis to... He looks very soft, in the most extensive meaning of the word, c’est à dire in temper, person, and head. Remember, I speak only of his looks. However, he was very civil, though silent and reserved.

  Enter the Baron and Baronness de Deiden, the Danish ambassador and his lady. The Baronness is one of the sweetest creatures in this lower world, if she is not one of the most deceitful.... we liked her extremely at a former concert which she honoured with her presence, but we liked her now a thousand times more. Her face is beautifully expressive of sense and sensibility. Her manners are truly elegant. She is mild, obliging, accomplished and modest. Her figure is equal to her face, being tall and well made.

  The Baron is sensible and polite; and, what most pleased me, he seems extremely well satisfied of the merit and charms of his sweet wife. They both speak English.

  The Baron made his compliments to my father with great civility, and the Baroness said—” How good it was in you, Sir, to remember us! We are very much oblige to you in-, deed!” Then going up to my sister she said—” I have heard no music since I was here last!”

  “For me, Mrs. Burney,” added Lady Edgecumbe, “I think I have shewn how much I was pleased by my eagerness to hear you again so soon.”

  Mr. Burney then went into the library and seated himself at the harpsichord. Every body followed.

  Enter Lord Viscount Barrington. To look at this nobleman, you would swear he was a tradesman, and by no means superior to stand behind a counter. He has by no means the air noble, nor would you dream that he almost lives at Court, and has a private conference with the king every other day. But I suppose he has “that within that passeth shew”!...

  This evening’s party was closed by the entrance of the Earl of Sandwich, of famous name and character.

  I thought of Jemmy Twitcher immediately. He is a tall, stout man, and looks as weather-proof as any sailor in the navy. He has great good-humour and joviality marked in his countenance. He went up to mama, and said to her, “I have heard of your son, Madam; and expect him home daily.”

  The Duets went off with their usual eclat, Lady Edgecumbe vowing she would rather hear them than twenty operas. The Baron and Baroness were unaffectedly delighted. The Ambassadour was gently pleased. Lord Edgecumbe, who had a bad cold, almost choaked himself with stifling a cough, nevertheless his wife scolded him about it, and said—” What do you come here for, my Lord, coughing?”

  Rauzzini was attacked by my father to vary the entertainment by a Rondeau de sa façon. He supplicated, with uplifted hands, to be excused, declaring most solemnly that he had, having a dreadful cold, been obliged, the preceding evening, to exert himself so as to force his voice, in consequence of which his throat was actually quite raw and sore. He protested that he should have the greatest pleasure in singing to a select party of musical people, if he was able, and added that he came merely to shew his willingness, though he ought to have been in bed. In short he did not absolutely refuse, but with so much earnestness and seeming regret begged my father not to press him that he neither could teize him, or yet, though very sorry, be at all offended at his declining to sing. Lord Barrington made up to him after this, and hinted his wish to hear him thus in private. He made the same apology, and complained of the managers for obliging him to sing whether well or ill, which occasioned’ his being obliged either to disgrace himself, or force his voice, to his great detriment, “car, pour moi, milord, je respecte le publique et Ton ne m’a pas accordé le tems de me remettre, ainsi de jour en jour au lieu de me guérir j’empire.” Lady Edgecumbe was then applied to to play, but she absolutely refused, and declared the Baroness to be la première Dame pour la Musique. The Baroness was therefore solicited; but in vain. Her invincible modesty made her regard herself as a meer Miss player by Mr. Burney and my sister.

  I longed irresistably to speak with Rauzzini, and so when I saw him stealing from the library back to the dining room, I gathered courage to say—” Eh, vous ne chanterez pas, Monsieur?” He turned to me with the prettiest air imaginable, and cried—” Ah! je suis au désespoir! mais je ne puis pas!—”

  Sukey joined us and we had a very agreeable trio of about a quarter of an hour, in which he told us that nothing made him so miserable as refusing; that to be where there was a harpsichord, and musical people, and to be idle, made him quite unhappy. He protested that he would come some other time with the greatest pleasure. “Mais quand?” cried Sukey. “Quand M. Borni voudra,” answered he, “et alors, je chanterai toute la soirée.” He said that he must retire, and immediately go to bed; that he would not disturb my father, but left his best compliments for him with me. And so he went, leaving every body monstrously disappointed, and nobody displeased —

  My father is in want of the Phil. Tran., and of Mr. Twiss. By the way, that gentleman called here last week, but saw nobody. He is just returned from Ireland, where, he told my father, he went to be dipt in the Shannon, to take from him his too great mauvaise honte I Have I made my peace with you or not?

  After all, you write such scraps in return for my volumes, that I own it sometimes discourages and mortifies me, to think that so many pages of writing cannot afford any matter for comment or observation.

  My love to Kitty, and believe me most affectionately and faithfully yours F. BURNEY.

  [MR. CRISP TO MISS BURNEY.]

  Ches. Dec. 14, 1775.

  Dear Fanny,

  Don’t imagine, that, because my letters are (from necessity, and p
overty of matter) shorter than yours, I am therefore insensible, that the advantage is all on my side; and that intrinsically a dozen of one sort would not weigh against one of the other, — and in real value too, as well as size. But pray remember, that when my Lord condescends to visit the humble curate in his tatter’d cottage, he does not expect a dinner like his own; but contents himself with the parson’s ale, and mutton and turnips, and this too, rather at short allowance, and all with a real or feigned smile upon his countenance. Do you imitate my Lord, for your two last letters are such rich ones, and have made such a weighty balance against me, that you must either accept eighteen pence in the pound, or take out a statute of bankruptcy against me. You have produc’d such an illustrious assembly of Princes, and generals, and lords, and ladies, and wits, and pictures, and diamonds, and shoulder-knots, that I feel myself shrink into nothing at the idea of them, — nay, you yourself that made one among them, seem to be a little dazzled at their glare. — You appear likewise to be somewhat touch’d with the charms of the beautiful Rauzzini, and perhaps ’tis well for you, he did not add the magic of his voice to....

  It was impossible for me to be present, at this scene of glory. Your representation of it comes the nearest to the reality, and puts one in mind of one of those delicious dreams, that give one in sleep what is not to be attained waking. One particular in your letter gave me a particular pleasure, I mean Lord Sandwich’s intelligence that Jem is shortly expected; you remember, I hope, that you and he are to come to Ches before he sets off for his sweethearts on t’other side of the globe. ’Tis true Chesington is not in its glory at this time o’ year, but if a good fire, hearty welcome, sound wine, and backgammon, can in some measure attone for dirty and vile roads, come along. There are two horses in the stable; and when the sun deigns to peep out, Jem and I can take an airing. Pray lay all this to heart, and make something off it....