Yours ever,
S. C.
December 12th.
Bessy Allen is gone to Paris for the purpose of completing her education and refining her manners.
She is gone under the care of Mrs. Strange, who will I am sure be a mother to her, and who has more good qualities joined to great talents, than almost any woman I know. Mr. Lumisden, her worthy brother, is gone with them, as is Miss Strange, with whom I parted with regret; for, though far from a shining character, she is a very estimable one, and had improved much on acquaintance. Mr. Strange and Bell, the second daughter, went to Paris some months before. The whole party dined with us the day before their departure, and set off in excellent spirits. We have had the satisfaction of hearing they all arrived safe at Paris.
We miss Bessy very much; but still rejoice that she is gone; for we hope much from the improvement of two years’ residence in Paris, and she was unformed and backward to an uncommon degree.
Before they went, the whole Strange family recommended very strongly to our acquaintance the two Miss Paynes, daughters of Mr. Payne, the bookseller at the Meuse Gate, saying they were pretty and motherless, and it would be benevolent to attend to them — The eldest is very pretty, and about eighteen years of age; she is modest, gentle, and obliging. The younger has I believe a deeper understanding; but is neither so handsome nor so pleasing as her sister...
[Two letters from Miss Strange, when living in Paris, to Fanny in London, have been preserved. One speaks of Mr. Hutton, who was in France, and of his foolish attempt to negotiate peace with Dr. Franklin, praising Hutton’s good intentions, but doubting that Franklin’s head was better than his heart. Another asks Fanny to look for a parcel, containing “a purchase” of “uncustomed goods,” which may have been left at Dr. Burney’s house. If Fanny cannot send it by a gentleman to whom Miss Strange has enclosed a note, then will she ask any other gentleman going to Paris, “to put it in his pocket.” People thought little of evading the customs’ duties. Lady Hales, the widow of a member for Dover, (Jane Austen’s Lady Hales, and Fanny’s great admirer,) thought it a pleasing and suitable way of showing her delight in “Evelina,” to send Fanny a smuggled chintz gown-piece, which she had bought at Deal among other contraband goods.]
December 14th.
To our great surprise, who should enter late in the evening, but Omiah. How he found out the house, I cannot tell, as it is a twelve month since he was here before. But he now walks everywhere quite alone, and has lodgings in Warwick Street, where he lives by himself. The King allows him a pension. He has learnt a great deal of English since his last visit, and can with the assistance of signs and action, make himself tolerably well understood. He pronounces English quite different from other foreigners, and sometimes unintelligibly. However, he has really made a great proficiency, considering the disadvantages he labours under, which render his studying the language so much more difficult to him than to other strangers, for he knows nothing of letters, and there are so very few persons who are acquainted with his language that it must have been extremely difficult to have instructed him at all.
He is lively and intelligent, and seems so open and frank-hearted, that he looks every one in the face as his friend and well-wisher. Indeed, to me he seems to have shewn no small share of real greatness of mind, in having thus thrown himself into the power of a nation of strangers, and placing such entire confidence in their honour and benevolence. As we are totally unacquainted with his country, connections, and affairs, our conversation was necessarily very much confined; indeed, it wholly consisted in questions of what he had seen here, which he answered, when he understood, very entertainingly. Making words, now and then, in familiar writing, is unavoidable, and saves the trouble of thinkings which, as Mr. Addison observes, we females are not much addicted to. He began immediately to talk of my brother.
“Lord Sandwich write one, two, three” (counting on his fingers) “monts ago, — Mr. Burney — come home.”
“He will be very happy,” cried I, “to see you.”
He bowed and said, “Mr. Burney very dood man!”
We asked if he had seen the King lately?
“Yes; King George bid me, ‘ Omy, you go home Oh, very dood man, King George!”
He then, with our assisting him, made us understand that he was extremely rejoiced at the thoughts of seeing again his native land; but at the same time that he should much regret leaving his friends in England.
“Lord Sandwich,” he added, “bid me, ‘Mr. Omy, you two ships, — you go home.’ — I say (making a fine bow) ‘Very much oblige, my Lord.’”
We asked if he had been to the Opera?
He immediately began a squeak, by way of imitation, which was very ridiculous; however, he told us he thought the music was very fine, which, when he first heard it, he thought detestable.
We then enquired how he liked the Theatres; but could not make him understand us; though, with a most astonishing politeness, he always endeavoured, by his bows and smiles, to save us the trouble of knowing that he was not able to comprehend whatever we said.
When we spoke of riding on horseback, an idea entered his head, which much diverted him, and which he endeavoured to explain, of riding double, which I suppose he has seen upon the roads.
“First goes man, so!” (making a motion of whipping a horse) “then here” (pointing behind him) “here goes woman! Ha! ha! ha!”
Miss Lidderdale, of Lynn, who was with us, and in a riding-habit, told him that she was prepared to go on horseback. He made her a very civil bow, and said, “Oh you, you dood woman, you no man; dirty woman, beggar woman ride so; — not you.”
We mentioned Dick to him, who is now at Harrow School, as we told him. He recollected him, and enquired after him. When we said he was gone to school, he cried, “O! to learn his book? so!” putting his two hands up to his eyes, in imitation of holding a book. He then attempted to describe to us a school, to which he had been taken to see the humours.
“Boys here, — boys there, — boys all over! One boy come up, — do so!” (again imitating reading) “not well; — man not like; man do so!” Then he showed us how the master had hit the boy a violent blow with the book on his shoulder.
Miss Lidderdale asked him, if he had seen Lady Townshend lately?
“Very pretty woman, Lady Townshend!” cried he; “I drink tea with Lady Townshend in one, two, tree days: Lord Townshend my friend, Lady Townshend my friend. Very pretty woman, Lady Townshend! Very pretty woman, Mrs. Crewe! Very pretty woman, Mrs. Bouverie! Very pretty woman, Lady Craven!”
We all approved his taste; and he told us that, when any of his acquaintances wished to see him, “they write, and bid me, Mr. Omy, you come, — dinner, tea, or supper, then I go.”
My father, who fortunately came in during his visit, asked him very much to favour us with a song of his own country, which he had heard him sing at Hinchinbrooke. He seemed to be quite ashamed; but we all joined and made the request so earnestly, that he could not refuse us. But he was either so modest, that he blushed for his own performance, or his residence here had made him so conscious of the barbarity of the South Sea Islands’ music, that he could hardly prevail with himself to comply with our request; and when he did, he began two or three times, before he could acquire voice or firmness to go on.
Nothing can be more curious or less pleasing than his singing voice; he seems to have none; and tune or air hardly seem to be aimed at; so queer, wild, strange a rumbling of sounds never did I before hear; and very contentedly can I go to the grave, if I never do again. His song is the only thing that is savage belonging to him.
The story that the words told, was laughable enough, for he took great pains to explain to us the English of the song. It appeared to be a sort of trio between an old woman, a young woman, and a young man. The two latter are entertaining each other with praises of their merits and protestations of their passions, when the old woman enters, and endeavours to faire l’aimable to the youth; but, as
she cannot boast of her charms, she is very earnest in displaying her dress, and making him observe and admire her taste and fancy. Omiah, who stood up to act the scene, was extremely droll and diverting by the grimaces, minauderies, and affectation he assumed for this character, examining and regarding himself and his dress with the most conceited self-complacency. The youth then avows his passion for the nymph; the old woman sends her away, and, to use Omiah’s own words, coming forward to offer herself says, “Come! marry me!” The young man starts as if he had seen a viper, then makes her a bow, begs to be excused, and runs off.
Though the singing of Omy is so barbarous, his actions, the expression he gives to each character, are so original and so diverting, that they did not fail to afford us very great entertainment of the risible kind.
* * * * *
December 30th.
My brother James, to our great joy and satisfaction, is returned home safe from America, which he has left in most terrible disorder. He is extremely well in health and spirits; and has undergone great hardships, which he has, however, gained both credit and friends by. He has a brave soul, and disdains all self-applause and egotism; nevertheless he has so honourably increased his friends and gained reputation, that it is not in the power of his forbearance or modesty to conceal it. He is now in very good time for his favourite voyage to the South Seas, which we believe will take place in February.
His friend, Omiah, whom he is to convoy home, called here again last week, in company with Dr. Andrews, a gentleman who speaks his language very well; which we had reason to regret, as it rendered Omiah far less entertaining than on his former visit, when he was obliged, despite of difficulties, to explain himself as well as he could, having no assistant; but now, this Dr. Andrews being ready as an interpreter, he gave himself very little trouble to speak English. Now, that Tames is returned, I doubt not his visits will be repeated.......
[A mutilated letter from Mr. Crisp to Fanny belongs to the last days of the year 1775.]
[MR. CRISP TO MISS BURNEY.]
“There’s no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune; no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the deputy’s wife of the ward to thee.” Besides you never could be better spared by that R[ogue] your father than now; as all his first vol is gone to the press, and what remains to be done lies between him and the printers, for surely my little friend Suzette can at any time, much more at such a pinch, make out a list of subscribers as well as yourself. My love to her, and beg her to undertake it. — Look ye, Fanny, at this time of year all our comforts must lye within doors; for you know how surrounded we are with clay and mud without — therefore at all events you must come (and no excuse to be admitted) to keep us alive, and in spirits. — What can Jem do with a parcel of old Fograms, without some other help to keep up the ball? — If any objection is made to this my proposal by the superiors of the house, on pretence that you cannot be spared, produce this letter, and tell that R[ogue] yr father, and that honest woman, your mother, my friend, Goody Bramble, that I make it my request; and make a point of it besides in as for Jem, give my love to him, and tell him I want to secure him before-hand; that when he comes to be an Admiral, (which I am as sure he will be — and I am a devil of a prophet — as that I now have a pen in my hand,) and struts about, and gives himself lordly airs, I may tell him, times are much alter’d since I gave him such a thorough licking-bout at back gammon.
Adieu, yr affectionate Daddy, S. C.
Dame Ham and Kate long to see you both.
[These fragments put together, form the lower half of the last leaf of a letter. Ten lines are made illegible by pen-strokes, not, we think, those of Fanny — as a note of hers remains below the effacement, “This prophecy was fulfilled, very happily, though very late.”
In the “Navy List” for 1814, James Burney is described as a retired captain, with the rank of rear-admiral.]
1776.
[LETTERS, ETC.]
[An entry in Madame D’Arbla’s own “Notes of Persons and Things in each volume, 1768-1779,” gives the reason why no journal for this year is extant. “1776, 9th.” [diary.] “The whole of what was written of this year was upon family matters or anecdotes, and I have destroyed it in totality.” On the sheet of paper which encloses the few letters of this year she has also written “a letter or two preserved from and to Mr. Crisp in 1776.” [1.] “Mr. Bruce and Masquerades.” [2.] “Mrs. Ord, with Dr. Russel, Mr. (since Sir W. W.) Pepys, Mrs. Smith, Mr. Burroughs, Duchess of Devonshire in the Park, and Omai.” [3.] “Agujari and Colla, Mr., Miss, and Keene Fitzgerald, Mr.
Devaynes, the Ords, Mr and Mrs. Nollekens, Miss B — . The Correspondence of this year was chiefly on family subjects, and I have destroyed it. F. d’A.” Of this list, the first letter is missing, nor has any letter from Mr. Crisp been found except a halfsheet, marked as No. 4 of his letters of this year, more than half of which is scored with ink so as to be illegible; but one is in the wrapper which is not on the list, namely, the first sheet of a letter of her own (July, 1776) to Mr. Crisp, of which we give some extracts. In this year Fanny’s letters are often sealed with an impression of a well-engraved female head. It has a classical look, but is called by Mrs. Rishton “your Madonna seal.” We may suppose that Fanny’s obduracy to Mr. Barlow had been discussed all through the family, as we find Mrs. Rishton writing that “Jem” (who was staying at Stanhoe) and she herself had laughed at the sight of a letter from Fanny with that seal, “te-hee’d heartily, and made some apt and witty remarks, but as I immediately scribbled them down in my common-place-book, to be published with my miscellaneous and fugitives after my departure, I hope you’ll excuse my giving them here.”]
[Some Extracts from a letter from Miss BURNEY to MR. CRISP, endorsed by him “Ap. 5, 1776.”]
My dear Daddy, I long to hear if you have got, and how you like the books. I would have sent Montaigne, but was afraid the parcel would have been too heavy to be safe only packed in paper, so they must wait till the next opportunity.
Our visit to Mrs. Ord proved very agreeable. The party was small, but select; consisting of Dr. Russel, who I have mentioned at one of our Concerts; Mr. Pepys, a man who, to the most fashionable air, dress, and address, adds great shrewdness, and drollery;Mr. Burrows, a clergyman who is a wit, in a peculiar style, chusing to aim all his fire at the Ton, in which he sometimes succeeds very well; Mr. Wright, a stupid man, but one who was so obliging as to be generally silent; his wife, who did not make him blush by her superiority; Miss Wright, who is rather pretty, and very sensible and agreeable; Mr. Ord, the eldest hope of the family, who is an exceeding handsome youth, and seems good natured and all that; Dr. Mrs and F. and S. Burney.
O but, I should have first mentioned Mrs. Smith, who you may perhaps formerly have known, as she was an intimate friend of Mrs. Greville’s. She is very little, ugly, and terribly deformed; but she is quick, clever, and entertaining.
Mrs. Ord herself is almost the best mistress of a family I ever saw; she is so easy, so chearfully polite, that it is not possible for a guest in her house to feel the least restraint. She banishes all ceremony and formality, and made us all draw our chairs about a table, which she kept in the middle of the room, and called the best friend to sociable conversation.
We stayed till near eleven o’clock, and had neither cards, music or dancing. It was a true Conversation. Every body went away well satisfied, and returning thanks to Mrs. Ord for having been admitted to the party. My attention was given too generally and indiscriminately to all sides, to enable me to write you any of the conversation, which I would otherwise do.
Mr. Bruce had a bad cold, and was not there. When we took leave, my father told Mrs. Ord that it gave him great pleasure to say, that he knew two or three houses even in these times, where company could be entertained and got together merely by conversation, unassisted by cards, etc.
“Such parties as Mrs. Ord collects,” said Mrs. Smith, “cannot fail in regard to entertainment.”
“And yet” answered Mr. Pepys, “I have known meetings where equal pleasure has been proposed and expected, and where the ingredients have been equally good, and yet the pudding has proved very bad.”
“True,” returned my father, “for if the ingredients are not well mixed, their separate goodness does not signify; for if one is a little too sour, and another a little too sweet, or too bitter, they counteract each other: But Mrs. Ord is an excellent cook, and takes care not to put clashing materials into one mess.”....
[Mr. Burney,] Hetty and I took a walk in the Park on Sunday morning, where among others, we saw the young and handsome Duchess of Devonshire, walking in such an undressed and slaternly manner, as, in former times, Mrs. Rishton might have done in Chesington garden. Two of her curls came quite unpinned, and fell lank on one of her shoulders; one shoe was down at heel, the trimming of her jacket and coat was in some places unsown; her cap was awry; and her cloak which was rusty and powdered, was flung half on and half off. Had she not had a servant in a superb livery behind her, she would certainly have been affronted. Every creature turned back to stare at her. Indeed I think her very handsome, and she has a look of innocence and artlessness that made me quite sorry she should be so foolishly negligent of her person. She had hold of the Duke’s arm, who is the very reverse of herself, for he is ugly, tidy, and grave. He looks like a very mean shopkeeper’s journeyman.
Omai, who was in the Park, called here this morning, and says that he went to her Grace, and asked her why she let her hair go in that manner? — Ha, Ha, Ha! — Don’t you laugh at her having a lesson of attention from an Otaheitan?....
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 493