Mr. Windham laughed, and said he was very glad to see who it was, for, on looking at the royal servant, he had just been going to make his lowest bow.
“O, I thank you!” returned Mr. Fairly, “you took me, then, for the Duke of Cumberland,”
THE KING CONTINUES TO IMPROVE.
Feb. 17.-The times are now most interesting and critical. Dr. Willis confided to me this morning that to-day the king is to see the chancellor. How important will be the result of his appearance! — the whole national fate depends upon it!
Feb. 18.-I had this morning the highest gratification, the purest feelings of delight, I have been regaled with for many months: I saw, from the road, the king and queen, accompanied by Dr. Willis, walking in Richmond gardens, near the farm, arm in arm! — It was a pleasure that quite melted me, after a separation so bitter, scenes so distressful-to witness such harmony and security! Heaven bless and preserve them was all I could incessantly say while I kept in their sight. I was in the carriage with Mrs. Schwellenberg at the time. They saw us also, as I heard afterwards from the queen.
In the evening Mrs. Arline, Mrs. Schwellenberg’s maid, came into Mrs. Schwellenberg’s room, after coffee, and said to me, “If you please, ma’am, somebody wants you.” I concluded this somebody my shoemaker, or the like; but in my room I saw Mr. Fairly. He was in high spirits. He had seen his majesty; Dr. Willis had carried him in. He was received with open arms, and embraced; he found nothing now remaining of the disorder, but too in much hurry of spirits. When he had related the particulars of the interview, he suddenly exclaimed, “How amazingly well you have borne all this!”
I made some short answers, and would have taken-refuge in some other topic: but he seemed bent upon pursuing his own, and started various questions and surmises, to draw me on, In vain, however; I gave but general, or evasive answers,
THE KING’S HEALTH IS COMPLETELY RESTORED. This was a sweet, and will prove a most memorable day: Regency was put off, in the House of Lords, by a motion from the chancellor! — huzza! huzza! And this evening, for the first time, the king came upstairs, to drink tea with the queen and princesses in the drawing-room! My heart was so full of joy and thankfulness, I could hardly breathe! Heaven — heaven be praised! What a different house is this house become! — sadness and terror, that wholly occupied it so lately, are now flown away, or rather are now driven out; and though anxiety still forcibly prevails, ’tis in so small a proportion to joy and thankfulness, that it is borne as if scarce an ill!
Feb. 23.-This morning opened wofully to me, though gaily to the house; for as my news of his majesty was perfectly comfortable, I ventured, in direct words, to ask leave to receive my dear friends Mr. and Mrs. Locke, who were now in town: — in understood sentences, and open looks, I had already failed again and again. My answer was-” I have no particular objection, only you’ll keep them to your room.” Heavens! — did they ever, unsummoned, quit it? or have they any wish to enlarge their range of visit? I was silent, and then heard a history of some imprudence in Lady Effingham, who had received some of her friends. My resolution, upon this, I need not mention: I preferred the most lengthened absence to such a permission. But I felt it acutely! and I hoped, at least, that by taking no steps, something more favourable might soon pass. . . .
The king I have seen again in the queen’s dressing-room. On opening the door, there he stood! He smiled at my start, and saying he had waited on purpose to see me, added, “I am quite well now, — I was nearly so when I saw you before, but I could overtake you better now.” And then he left the room. I was quite melted with joy and thankfulness at this so entire restoration.
End of February, 1789. Dieu merci!
(294) Physician-in-ordinary to the king-ED.
(295) Her tragedy of “Edwy and Elgiva,” which was produced at Drury Lane in 1795. See note ante, vol. i., p. xlv. — ED.
(296) The “Douglas cause” was one of the causes celebres of its tine. Its history is briefly as follows. In 1746 Lady Jane Douglas married Sir John Stewart. At Paris, in July, 1748, she gave birth to twins, Archibald and Sholto, of whom the latter died an infant. Lady Jane herself died in 1753. The surviving child, Archibald, was always recognized as their son by Lady Jane and Sir John. In 1760 the Duke of Douglas, the brother of Lady Jane, being childless, recognised his sister’s son as his heir, and bequeathed to him by will the whole of the Douglas estates, revoking, for that purpose, a previous testament which he had made in favour of the Hamilton family. The Duke died in 1761, and Archibald, who had assumed his mother’s, name of Douglas, duly succeeded to the estates. His right, however, Was disputed at law by the Duke of Hamilton, on the pretence, which he sought to establish, that Archibald Douglas was not in fact the son of his reputed mother. The Lords of Session in Scotland decided in favour of the Duke of Hamilton, whereupon Mr. Douglas appealed to the House of Lords, which reversed the decision of the Scottish court (February 2-, 1769), 1, “thereby confirming to Mr. Douglas his Filiation and his Fortune.”-ED.
(297) “Miss Fuzilier,” the Diary-name for Miss Gunning, whom Colonel Digby did subsequently marry. “Sir R- F-” is her father, Sir Robert Gunning.-ED,
(298) One of the apothecaries to the royal household.-ED.
(299) Dr. Richard Warren, one of the physicians in ordinary to the king and the Prince of Wales.-ED.
(300) The Lord chancellor Thurlow.-ED.
(301) Mrs. Elizabeth Carter’s “Ode to Wisdom,” printed in “Clarissa Harlowe” (vol. ii., letter x.), with a musical setting, given as the composition of Clarisa herself. The Ode is by no means without merit of a modest kind, but can scarcely be ranked the production of a genuine poet.-ED.
(302) “Emmeline, the Orphan of the Castle,” a novel in four volumes, by Charlotte Smith. Published 1788.-ED.
(303) Mr. Frederick Montagu was not only a member of the opposition but One of the managers of the impeachment of Warren Hastings.-ED.
(304) Burke’s last act before quitting office at the close of 1783, had been to procure for Dr. Burney the post of organist to Chelsea hospital, to which was attached a salary of fifty pounds a year.-ED
SECTION 15. (1789-)
THE KING’S RECOVERY:
ROYAL VISIT To WEYMOUTH.
THE KING’S REAPPEARANCE.
Kew Palace, Sunday, March 1.-What a pleasure was mine this morning! how solemn, but how grateful! The queen gave me the “Prayer of Thanksgiving” upon the king’s recovery. It was this morning read in all the churches throughout the metropolis, and by this day week it will reach every church in the kingdom. It kept me in tears all the morning, — that such a moment should actually arrive! after fears so dreadful, scenes so terrible.
The queen gave me a dozen to distribute among the female servants: but I reserved one of them for dear Mr. Smelt, who took it from me in speechless extacy — his fine and feeling eyes swimming in tears of joy. There is no describing — and I will not attempt it — the fullness, the almost overwhelming fullness of this morning’s thankful feelings!
I had the great gratification to see the honoured object of this joy, for a few minutes, in the queen’s dressing-room. He was all calmness and benevolent graciousness. I fancied my strong emotion had disfigured me; or perhaps the whole of this long confinement and most affecting winter may have somewhat marked my countenance; for the king presently said to me, “Pray, are you quite well to-day?”
“ I think not quite, sir,” I answered,
“She does not look well,” said he to the queen; “she looks a little yellow, I think.”
How kind, to think of anybody and their looks, at this first moment of reappearance!
AN AIRING AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
Wednesday, March 4.-A message from Mrs. Schwellenberg this morning, to ask me to air with her, received my most reluctant acquiescence; for the frost is so severe that any air, without exercise, is terrible to me; though, were her atmosphere milder, the rigour of the season I might not regard.
When we came to the pa
ssage the carriage was not ready. She murmured most vehemently; and so bitterly cold was I, I could heartily have joined, had it answered any purpose. In this cold passage we waited in this miserable manner a full quarter of an hour; Mrs. Schwellenberg all the time scolding the servants, threatening them With exile, sending message after message, repining, thwarting, and contentious.
Now we were to go, and wait in the king’s rooms — now in the gentlemen’s — now in Dr. Willis’s — her own — and this, in the end, took place.
In our way we encountered Mr. Fairly. He asked where we were going. “To my own parlour!” she answered.
He accompanied us in; and, to cheer the gloom, seized some of the stores of Dr. Willis, — sandwiches, wine and water, and other refreshments, — and brought them to us, one after another in a sportive manner, recommending to us to break through common rules, on such an occasion, and eat and drink to warm ourselves. Mrs. Schwellenberg stood in stately silence, and bolt upright, scarce deigning to speak even a refusal; till, upon his saying, while he held a glass of wine in his hand, “Come, ma’am, do something eccentric for once — it will warm you,” she angrily answered, “You been reely — what you call — too much hospital!”
Neither of us could help laughing. “Yes,” cried he, “with the goods of others; — that makes a wide difference in hospitality!” Then he rattled away upon the honours the room had lately received, of having had Mr. Pitt, the Chancellor, Archbishop of Canterbury, etc., to wait in it. This she resented highly, as seeming to think it more honoured in her absence than presence At length we took our miserable airing, in which I was treated with as much fierce harshness as if I was being conveyed to some place of confinement for the punishment Of some dreadful offence!
She would have the glass down on my side; the piercing wind cut my face; I put my muff up to it: this incensed her so much, that she vehemently declared “she never, no never would trobble any won to air with her again but go always selfs.” — And who will repine at that? thought I.
Yet by night I had caught a violent cold, which flew to my face, and occasioned me dreadful pain.
March 10.-I have been in too much pain to write these last five days; and I became very feverish, and universally ill, affected with the fury of the cold.
My royal mistress, who could not but observe me very unwell, though I have never omitted my daily three attendances, which I have performed with a difficulty all but insurmountable, concluded I had been guilty of some imprudence: I told the simple fact of the glass, — but quite simply, and without one circumstance. She instantly said she was surprised I could catch cold in an airing, as it never appeared that it disagreed with me when I took it with Mrs. Delany.
“No, ma’am,” I immediately answered, “nor with Mrs, Locke; nor formerly with Mrs. Thrale: — but they left me the regulation of the glass on my own side to myself; or, if they interfered, it was to draw it up for me.”
This I could not resist. I can be silent; but when challenged to speak at all, it must be plain truth.
I had no answer. Illness here — till of late — has been so unknown, that it is commonly supposed it must be wilful, and therefore meets little notice, till accompanied by danger, or incapacity of duty. This is by no means from hardness of heart-far otherwise; there is no hardness of heart in any one of them; but it is prejudice and want of personal experience.
ILLUMINATIONS ON THE KING’s RECOVERY.
March 10.-This was a day of happiness indeed! — a day of such heartfelt public delight as Could not but suppress all private disturbance. The general illumination of all London proved the universal joy of a thankful and most affectionate people, who have shown so largely, on this trying occasion, how well they merited the monarch thus benignantly preserved. The queen, from the privy purse, gave private orders for a Splendid illumination at this palace.(305) The King — Providence — Health — and Britannia, were displayed with elegant devices; the queen and princesses, all but the youngest, went to town to see the illumination there; and Mr. Smelt was to conduct the surprise. — It was magnificently beautiful.
When it was lighted and prepared, the Princess Amelia went to lead her papa to the front window: but first she dropped on -her knees, and presented him a paper with these lines-which, at the queen’s desire, I had scribbled in her name, for the happy occasion: —
TO THE KING.
Amid a rapt’rous nation’s praise
That sees Thee to their prayers restor’d,
Turn gently from the gen’ral blaze, —
Thy Charlotte woos her bosom’s lord.
Turn and behold where, bright and clear,
Depictur’d with transparent art,
The emblems of her thoughts appear,
The tribute of a grateful heart.
O! small the tribute, were it weigh’d
With all she feels — or half she owes!
But noble minds are best repaid
>From the pure spring whence bounty flows.
PS. The little bearer begs a kiss >From dear papa for bringing this.
I need not, I think, tell you, the little bearer begged not in vain. The king was extremely pleased. He came into a room belonging to the princesses, in which we had a party to look at the illuminations, and there he stayed above an hour; cheerful, composed, and gracious! all that could merit the great national testimony to his worth this day paid him.
MR FAIRLY ON MISS BURNEY’s DUTIES.
Windsor, March 18.-A little rap announced Mr. Fairly, who came in, saying, “I am escaped for a little while, to have some quiet conversation with you, before the general assemblage and storm of company.” He then gravely said, “Tomorrow I shall take leave of you — for a long time
He intended setting off to-morrow morning for town, by the opportunity of the equerries’ coach, which would convey him to Kew, where his majesty was to receive an address.
He told me, with a good deal of humour, that he suspected me of being rather absent in my official occupation, from little natural care about toilettes and such things. I could not possibly deny this, — on the contrary, I owned I had, at first, found my attention unattainable, partly from flutter and embarrassment, and partly from the reasons he so discerningly assigned. “I have even,” I added, “and not seldom, handed her fan before her gown, and her gloves before her cap but I am better in all that now!”
“I should think all that very likely,” cried he, smiling; “yet it is not very trifling with her majesty, who is so exact and precise, such things seem to her of moment.”
This is truth itself.
I said, “No, — she is more gracious, more kind, indeed, to me than ever: she scarce speaks, scarce turns to me without a smile.”
“ Well,” cried he, extremely pleased, “this must much soften your employment and confinement. And, indeed, it was most natural to expect this time of distress should prove a cement.”
A VISIT FROM MISS FUZILIER.
I think I need not mention meeting my beloved Fredy in town, on our delightful excursion thither for the grand restoration Drawing-room, in which the queen received the compliments and congratulations of almost all the Court part of the nation. Miss Cambridge worked me, upon this occasion, a suit, in silks upon tiffany, most excessively delicate and pretty, and much admired by her majesty.
All I shall mention of this town visit is, that, the day after the great Drawing-room, Miss Fuzilier, for the first time since I have been in office, called upon me to inquire after the queen. Miss Tryon, and Mrs. Tracey, and Mrs. Fielding were with her.
She looked serious, sensible, interesting. I thought instantly of the report concerning Mr. Fairly, and of his disavowal : but it was singular that the only time she opened her mouth to speak was to name him! Miss Tryon, who chatted incessantly, had spoken of the great confusion at the Drawing-room, from the crowd: “It was intended to be better regulated,” said Miss
F., “Mr. Fairly told me.” She dropped her eye the moment she had spoken his name. Afte
r this, as before it, she said nothing. . . .
Mr. George Villiers, a younger brother of Lord Clarendon, was now here as groom of the bedchamber. He is very clever, somewhat caustigue, but so loyal and vehement in the king’s cause, that he has the appellation, from his party, of “The Tiger.”
He would not obtain it for his person, which is remarkably slim, slight, and delicate.
A COMMAND FROM HER MAJESTY.
Kew, April, 1789. My dearest friends, - I have her majesty’s commands to inquire — whether you have any of a certain breed of poultry?
N.B. What breed I do not remember.
And to say she has just received a small group of the same herself.
N.B. The quantity I have forgotten.
And to add, she is assured they are something very rare and scarce, and extraordinary and curious.
N.B. By whom she was assured I have not heard.
And to subjoin, that you must send word if you have any of the same sort.
N.B. How you are to find that out, I cannot tell.
And to mention, as a corollary, that, if you have none of them, and should like to have some, she has a cock and a hen she can spare, and will appropriate them to Mr. Locke and my dearest Fredy.
This conclusive stroke so pleased and exhilarated me, that forthwith I said you would both be enchanted, and so forgot all the preceding particulars. And I said, moreover, that I knew you would rear them, and cheer them, and fondle them like your children.
So now-pray write a very fair answer fairly, in fair hand, and to her fair purpose.
COLONEL MANNERS MYSTIFIES MRS. SCHWELLENBERG.
Queen’s Lodge, Windsor, April.-Mrs. Schwellenberg is softened into nothing but civility and courtesy to me. To what the change is owing I cannot conjecture; but I do all that in me lies Page 306 to support it, preferring the entire sacrifice of every moment, from our dinner to twelve at night, to her harshness and horrors. Nevertheless, a lassitude of existence creeps sensibly upon me.
Colonel Manners, however, for the short half-hour of tea-time, is irresistibly diverting. He continues my constant friend and neighbour, and, while he affects to play off the coadjutrix to advantage, he nods at me, to draw forth my laughter or approbation, with the most alarming undisguise. I often fear her being affronted; but naturally she admires him very much for his uncommon share of beauty, and makes much allowance for his levity. However, the never-quite-comprehended affair of the leather bed-cover,(306) has in some degree intimidated her ever since, as she constantly apprehends that, if he were provoked, he would play her some trick.
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 600