Complete Works of Frances Burney

by Frances Burney

  Amiss! — what a Word! Oh that I had been present to have answered it! My father stayed, I suppose, half an hour, and then was coming away. He again took his hand, and encouraged him to come again to him; and when he was taking leave, said— “Tell Fanny to pray for me!”

  Ah! dear Dr. Johnson! might I but have your prayers! After which, still grasping his hand, he made a prayer for himself, — the most fervent, pious, humble, eloquent, and touching, my father says, that ever was composed. Oh, would I had heard it! He ended it with Amen! in which my father joined, and was echoed by all present. And again, when my father was leaving him, he brightened up, something of his arch look returned, and he said— “I think I shall throw the ball at Fanny yet!”

  Little more passed ere my father came away, decided, most tenderly, not to tell me this till our party was done.

  This most earnestly increased my desire to see him; this kind and frequent mention of me melted me into double sorrow and regret. I would give the world I had but gone to him that day! It was, however, impossible, and the day was over before I knew he had said what I look upon as a call to me. This morning, after church time, I went. Frank said he was very ill, and saw nobody; I told him I had understood by my father the day before that he meant to see me. He then let me in. I went into his room up stairs; he was in his bedroom. I saw it crowded, and ran hastily down. Frank told me his master had refused seeing even Mr. Langton. I told him merely to say I had called, but by no means to press my admission. His own feelings were all that should be consulted; his tenderness, I knew, would be equal, whether he was able to see me or not.

  I went into the parlour, preferring being alone in the cold, to any company with a fire. Here I waited long, here and upon the stairs, which I ascended and descended to meet again with Frank, and make inquiries; but I met him not. At last, upon Dr. Johnson’s ringing his bell, I saw Frank enter his room, and Mr. Langton follow. “Who’s that?” I heard him say; they answered, “Mr. Langton,” and I found he did not return.

  Soon after, all the rest went away but a Mrs. Davis, a good sort of woman, whom this truly charitable soul had sent for to take a dinner at his house. I then went and waited with her by the fire; it was, however, between three and four o’clock before I got any answer. Mr. Langton then came himself. He could not look at me, and I turned away from him. Mrs. Davis asked how the doctor was? “Going on to death very fast!” was his mournful answer. “Has he taken,” said she, “anything?” “Nothing at all! We carried him some bread and milk — he refused it, and said— ‘The less the better.’” She asked more questions, by which I found his faculties were perfect, his mind composed, and his dissolution was quick drawing on....

  I could not immediately go on, and it is now long since I have written at all; but I will go back to this afflicting theme, which I can now better bear.

  Mr. Langton was, I believe, a quarter of an hour in the room before I suspected he meant to speak to me, never looking near me. At last he said —

  “This poor man, I understand, ma’am, desired yesterday to see you.”

  “My understanding that, sir, brought me here to-day.”

  “Poor man! it is a pity he did not know himself better, and that you should have had this trouble.”

  “Trouble!” cried I; “I would have come a hundred times to see him the hundredth and first!”

  “He hopes, now, you will excuse him; he is very sorry not to see you; but he desired me to come and speak to you myself, and tell you he hopes you will excuse him, for he feels himself too weak for such an interview.”

  I hastily got up, left him my most affectionate respects, and every good wish I could half utter, and ran back to the coach. Ah, my Susy! I have never been to Bolt-court since! I then drove to poor Miss Strange, to make inquiries of the maid but Andrew ran out to the coach door, and told me all hope was at an end. In short, the next day was fatal to both! — the same day!

  December 20. — This day was the ever-honoured, ever-lamented Dr. Johnson committed to the earth. Oh, how sad a day to me! My father attended, and so did Charles. I could not keep my eyes dry all day; nor can I now, in the recollecting it; but let me pass over what to mourn is now so vain!

  December 30. — In the evening I went to Mrs. Chapone. I was late, on account of the coach, and all her party was assembled. This was the first time I had seen any of them, except Mrs. Ord, since last spring. I was received with the utmost kindness by them all, but chiefly by Mrs. Chapone herself, who has really, I believe, a sincere regard for me. I had talk with all of them, except Mrs. Levison, with whom I have merely a courtesying acquaintance. But I was very sad within; the loss of dear Dr. Johnson — the flight of Mrs. Thrale, the death of poor Miss Kitty Cambridge, and of poor, good Miss Strange, — all these home and bosom strokes, which had all struck me since my last meeting this society, were revolving in my mind the whole time I stayed.

  Sir Lucas Pepys talked to me a great deal of Mrs. Thrale, and read me a letter from her, which seems to shew her gay and happy. I hope it shews not false colours. No one else named her — but poor Dr. Johnson was discussed repeatedly. How melancholy will all these circumstances render these once so pleasant meetings.

  SECT. 6 (1785-6.)

  MISS BURNEY IS FAVOURABLY NOTICED BY THE KING AND QUEEN.

  [The pleasantest portion of the following section of the

  Diary is that which relates to the growing intimacy between

  Fanny and Mrs. Delany. It was a friendship, however, which

  proved dear to Fanny in every sense of the word. On the one

  hand the mutual affection which subsisted between her and a

  lady in every way so worthy of her regard, was a source of

  continual gratification to both; on the other hand it was

  the immediate cause of an event which may be, without

  exaggeration, described as the greatest misfortune of

  Fanny’s life — her ill-starred appointment at Court. We

  fully share Macaulay’s indignation at this absurd and

  singularly unsuitable appointment. Its consequences to

  Fanny were almost disastrous; yet the reader will reap the

  reward of her suffering in perusing the brilliant pages in

  which her humour and penetration have invested with an

  interest not its own the frivolous tattle of her commonplace

  companions. Her account of the royal family is on the whole

  favourable. The princesses appear to have been really

  amiable and, so far as etiquette would permit, sensible

  young women. Of the king and queen we know few things which

  are more to their credit than that they should have been

  able to inspire Fanny with a regard so obviously sincere.

  But even Fanny, with all her loyal partiality, could make no

  more of them than a well-meaning couple, whose conversation

  never rose above the commonplace. After all, we can hardly

  help feeling that the whole of this Court Diary,

  entertaining as it is, would be well exchanged for the

  description, in Fanny’s animated style, of a few more

  dinner-parties at Sir Joshua’s, a few more conversations

  with Edmund Burke.

  The burst of exultation with which Fanny’s friends greeted

  the unhappy appointment says little for their common sense.

  Even Burke, who at least ought to have known better, fell in

  with the general infatuation, although he, if no one else

  felt that the honour was not all on Fanny’s side. He called

  in St. Martin’s-street, and finding Dr. Burney and his

  daughter from home, left a card on which he had written

  these words:— “Mr. Burke, to congratulate upon the honour

  done by the Queen to Miss Burney, — and to herself.”

  The office which Fanny shared with that “old hag,” Mrs. />
  Schwellenberg, was that of keeper of the robes, and she

  entered upon her new duties in the month Of July, 1786.

  Dress had always been one of the last subjects about which

  she troubled herself, and her want of experience in this

  all-important matter was graciously taken into consideration

  by the queen. The duties of the place were lightened, or,

  at least, altered in her favour. The difficulties with

  respect to jewellery, laces, and Court habiliments, and the

  other routine business belonging to the dress manufactory

  appertained to her colleague, Mrs. Schwellenberg; the manual

  labours and cares devolved upon the wardrobewomen; while

  from herself all that officially was required was assiduous

  attention, unremitting readiness for every summons to the

  dressing — room, not unfrequent long readings, and perpetual

  sojourn at the palace. — ED.]

  ROYAL GENEROSITY to MRS. DELANY.

  FANNY BURNEY TO DR. BURNEY

  St. James’s-place,

  Aug. 24.

  I must tell you, dearest sir, a tale concerning Mrs. Delany, which I am sure you will hear with true pleasure. Among the many inferior losses which have been included in her great and irreparable calamity, has been that of a country house for the summer, which she had in Bulstrode, and which for the half of every year was her constant home. The Duke of Portland behaved with the utmost propriety and feeling upon this occasion, and was most earnest to accommodate her to the best of his power, with every comfort to which she had been accustomed; but this noblest of women declared she loved the memory of her friend beyond all other things, and would not suffer it to be tainted in the misjudging world by an action that would be construed into a reflection upon her will, as if deficient in consideration to her. She steadily, therefore, refused all offers, though made to her with even painful earnestness, and though solicited till her refusal became a distress to herself

  This transaction was related, I believe, to their majesties and Lady Weymouth, the duchess’s eldest daughter, was commissioned to wait upon Mrs. Delany with this message, That the queen was extremely anxious about her health, and very apprehensive lest continuing in London during the summer should be prejudicial to it: she entreated her, therefore, to accept a house belonging to the king at Windsor, which she should order to be fitted up for her immediately; and she desired Lady Weymouth to give her time to consider this proposal, and by no means to hurry her; as well as to assure her, that happy as it would make her to have one she so sincerely esteemed as a neighbour, she should remember her situation, and promise not to be troublesome to her. The king, at the same time, desired to be allowed to stand to the additional expenses incurred by the maintenance of two houses, and that Mrs. Delany would accept from him 300 pounds a year.

  It would be needless to tell you how Mrs. Delany was touched by this benevolence. Yet she dreaded accepting what she feared would involve her in a new course of life, and force her into notice and connexions she wished to drop or avoid. She took the time the queen so considerately gave her for deliberation, and she consulted with some of her old friends. They all agreed there must be no refusal, and Lady Weymouth was made the messenger of her majesty’s offer being accepted.

  The house, therefore, is now fitting up, and the king sees after the workmen himself.

  A few days ago, Miss Planta was sent from the queen, with very kind inquiries after Mrs. Delany’s health, and information that she would receive a summons very soon. She told her, also, that as the house might still require a longer time in preparation than would suit Mrs. Delany to wait in London, the queen had ordered some apartments in the Castle, which lately belonged to Prince Edward, to be got ready with all speed, that she might reside in them till her own house was finished.

  This is the state of her affairs. I am now with her entirely. At first I slept at home; but going after supper, and coming before breakfast, was inconvenient, and she has therefore contrived me a bed-room....

  FANNY BURNEY TO MRS. LOCKE.

  St. James’s-place,

  Aug. 29.

  All our movements are at present uncertain; Mrs. Delany’s Windsor house is still unfinished, but I suppose it will be fit for her reception by the beginning of next week, and I have the happiest reasons for hoping she will then be fit for it herself. Her maid has been to see what forwardness it is in, and this was her report: — She was ordered to wait upon Miss Goldsworthy, by the king’s direction, who heard of her being sent to inspect the house; and there she received commands, in the name of both king and queen, to see that Mrs. Delany brought with her nothing but herself and clothes, as they insisted upon fitting up her habitation with everything themselves, including not only plate, china, glass, and linen, but even all sort of stores — wine, sweetmeats, pickles, etc. Their earnestness to save her every care, and give her every gratification in their power, is truly benevolent and amiable. They seem to know and feel her worth as if they had never worn crowns, or, wearing, annexed no value to them.

  A VISIT TO MRS. DELANY.

  Windsor, Saturday, Nov. 25 — I got to Hounslow almost at the same moment with Mrs. Astley, my dear Mrs. Delany’s maid, who was sent to meet me. As soon as she had satisfied my inquiries concerning her lady, she was eager to inform me that the queen had drunk tea with Mrs. Delany the day before, and had asked when I should come, and heard the time; and that Mrs. Delany believed she would be with her again that evening, and desire to see me. This was rather fidgetting intelligence. I rather, in my own mind, thought the queen would prefer giving me the first evening alone with my dear old friend. I found that sweet lady not so well as I had hoped, and strongly affected by afflicting recollections at sight of me. With all her gentleness and resignation, bursts of sorrow break from her still whenever we are alone together, for the Duchess of Portland was a boson’ friend to her.

  Miss Port. who is a truly lovely girl, received me with her usual warmth of joy, and was most impatient to whisper me that “all the princesses intended to come and see me.” She is just at the age to doat upon an ado, and nothing so much delights her as the thought of my presentations.

  Mrs. Delany acquainted me that the queen, in their first interview, upon her coming to this house, said to her, “Why did not you bring your friend Miss Burney with you?”

  My dear Mrs. Delany was very much gratified by such an attention to whatever could be thought interesting to her, but, with her usual propriety, answered that, in coming to a house of her majesty’s, she could not presume to ask anybody without immediate and express permission. “The king, however,” she added, “made the very same inquiry when I saw him next.”

  Sunday, Nov. 26. — So now the royal encounters, for a while at least, are out of all question. Nobody came last night, though Mrs. Delany I saw, and Miss Port. I heard, in continual expectation; but this morning, Mr. Battiscombe, apothecary to the household, called, and said that an express arrived from Germany yesterday afternoon, with an account of the death of the queen’s youngest brother.

  The queen, — whose domestic virtues rise upon me every hour, is strongly attached to all her family, and in much affliction at this news; for though this brother was quite a boy when she left Germany, he has twice been to visit her in, England. None of the royal family will appear till the mourning takes place; the queen, perhaps, may shut herself up still longer.

  At night, quite incog. quite alone, and quite privately, the king came, and was shut up with Mrs. Delany for an hour. It is out of rule for any of the family to be seen till in mourning, but he knew she was anxious for an account of the queen. I had a very narrow escape of being surprised by him, which would have vexed me, as he only meant to see Mrs. Delany by herself, though she says he told her he was very glad to hear I was come.

  ROYAL CURIOSITY ABOUT MISS BURNEY.

  Thursday, Dec. 1. — To-day the queen sent Miss P
lanta to tell Mrs. Delany that if she would not yet venture to the Lodge, she would come to her in the evening. Mrs. Delany accepted the gracious offer, and, at tea-time, she came, as well as the king, and spent two hours here.

  Mrs. Delany told me afterwards, that the queen was very low-spirited, and seemed to wish for nothing but the solace of sitting perfectly quiet. She is a sweet woman, and has all the domestic affections warm and strong in her heart.

  Nevertheless they talked of me, she says, a good deal — and the king asked many questions about me. There is a new play, he told Mrs. Delany, coming out; “and it is said to be Miss Burney’s!” Mrs. Delany immediately answered that she knew the report must be untrue. “But I hope she is not idle?” cried the king. “I hope she is writing something?”

  What Mrs. Delany said, I know not; but he afterwards inquired what she thought of my writing a play?

  “What,” said he, “do you wish about it, Mrs. Delany?”

  Mrs. Delany hesitated, and the queen then said,

  “I wish what I know Mrs. Delany does — that she may not; for though her reputation is so high, her character, by all I hear, is too delicate to suit with writing for the stage.”

  Sweet queen! I could have kissed the hem of her garment for that speech, and I could not resist writing it.

  Mrs. Delany then said,

  “Why My opinion is what I believe to be Miss Burney’s own; that It is too public and hazardous a style of writing for her quiet and fearful turn of mind.”

  I have really the grace to be a little ashamed of scribbling this, but I know I can scribble nothing my dear father will be more curious to hear.

  Saturday, Dec. 3 — This morning we had better news of the princess — and Mrs. Delany went again to the Lodge in the evening, to the queen. When Mrs. Delany returned, she confirmed the good accounts of the Princess Elizabeth’s amendment. She had told the queen I was going to-morrow to Thames Ditton, for a week; and was asked many questions about my coming back, which the queen said she was sure I should be glad to do from Mrs. Walsingham to Mrs. Delany. O most penetrating queen!