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The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay — Volume 2 cover

The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay — Volume 2

Chapter 296: FOOTNOTES:
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About This Book

A personal diary covering the author's experiences at royal court between 1787 and 1792, recording daily duties and social life at St. James’s and Windsor, vivid accounts of the public trial of Warren Hastings, the king’s serious illness and recovery, royal tours and entertainments, and the author’s strained relations with court officials leading to resignation. Interwoven are portraits of notable contemporaries, descriptions of ceremonies, travel in the West Country after leaving court, and reflections on politics, theatre, and literary acquaintances. The narrative combines lively anecdote, social observation, and private reflection, tracing a transition from intimate court service to regained personal liberty and literary pursuits.





MR. HASTINGS’S SPEECH.

Two days after, I went again to Westminster Hall with Miss Ord. Her good mother has a ticket for the Duke of Newcastle’s box, in which she was seated. This-day’s business consisted of examining witnesses: it was meant for the last meeting during this session but when it was over, Mr. Hastings arose and addressed the Lords in a most noble and pathetic speech, praying them to continue their attendance till his defence was heard throughout, or, at least, not to deny him the finishing his answer to the first charge.

He spoke, I believe, to the hearts of everybody, except his prosecutors: the whole assembly seemed evidently affected by what he urged, upon the unexampled delay of justice in his trial: silence was never more profound than that which his voice instantly commanded. Poor unhappy, injured gentleman! How, how can such men practise cruelty so glaring as is manifested in the whole conduct of this trial!

From hence, as usual, I went to dine at the Queen’s house. Mrs. Schwellenberg took me to the queen after coffee.

She was writing to Lady Cremorne: she talked with me while she finished her letter, and then read it to me, exactly as in old times. She writes with admirable facility, and peculiar elegance of expression, as well as of handwriting.

She asked me, somewhat curiously, if I had seen any of my old friends? I found she meant oppositionists. I told her only at the trial. She kept me in converse till the dear king came into the room: he had a grandson of Lord Howe’s with him, a little boy in petticoats, with whom he was playing, and whom he thought remembered me, I had seen him frequently at Weymouth, and the innocent little fellow insisted upon Making me his bows and reverences, when told to Make them to the queen.

The king asked me what had been doing at Westminster Hall? I repeated poor Mr. Hastings’s remonstrance, particularly a part of it in which he had mentioned that he had already “appealed to his majesty, whose justice he could not doubt.” The king looked a little queer, but I was glad of the opportunity of putting in a word for poor Mr. Hastings.

I went on regularly to the trial till it finished for this year. Mr. Dallas closed his answer to the first charge, with great spirit and effect, and seemed to make numerous Proselytes for Mr. Hastings.








A WELL-PRESERVED BEAUTY.

Thursday, June 18.—After many invitations and regulations, it was settled I was to accompany my father on a visit of three days to Mrs. Crewe at Hampstead. The villa at Hampstead is small, but commodious. We were received by Mrs. Crewe with much kindness. The room was rather dark, and she had a veil to her bonnet, half down, and with this aid she looked still in a full blaze of beauty. I was wholly astonished. Her bloom, perfectly natural, is as high as that of Augusta Locke when in her best looks, and the form of her face is so exquisitely perfect that my eye never Met it without fresh admiration. She is certainly, in my eyes, the most completely a beauty of any woman I ever saw. I know not, even now, any female in her first youth who could bear the comparison. She uglifies everything near her.

Her son was with her. He is just of age, and looks like her elder brother! He is a heavy old-looking young Man. He is going to China with Lord Macartney.363








THE BURKES.

My former friend, young Burke, was also there. I was glad to renew acquaintance with him though I could see some little strangeness in him: this, however, completely wore off. before the day was over. Soon after entered Mrs. Burke, Miss F.,364 a niece, and Mr. Richard Burke, the comic, humorous, bold, queer brother of the Mr. Burke, who, they said, was soon coming, with Mr. Elliot. The Burke family were invited by Mrs. Crewe to meet us.

Mrs. Burke was just what I have always seen her, soft, gentle, reasonable, and obliging; and we met, I think, upon as good terms as if so many years had not parted us.

At length Mr. Burke appeared, accompanied by Mr. Elliot. He shook hands with my father as soon as he had paid his devoirs to Mrs. Crewe, but he returned my curtsey with so distant a bow, that I concluded myself quite lost with him, from my evident solicitude in poor Mr. Hastings’s cause. I could not wish that less obvious, thinking as I think of it; but I felt infinitely grieved to lose the favour of a man whom in all other articles, I so much venerate, and whom, Indeed, I esteem and admire as the very first man of true genius now living in this Country.

Mrs. Crewe introduced me to Mr. Elliot: I am Sure we were already personally known to each other, for I have seen him perpetually in the managers’ box, whence, as often, he must have seen me in the great chamberlain’s. He is a tall, thin young man, plain in face, dress, and manner, but sensible, and possibly much besides; he was reserved, however, and little else appeared.

The moment I was named, to my great joy I found Mr. Burke had not recollected me. He is more near-sighted, considerably, than myself. “Miss Burney!” he now exclaimed, coming forward, and quite kindly taking my hand, “I did not see you;” and then he spoke very sweet words of the meeting, and of my looking far better than “while I was a courtier,” and of how he rejoiced to see that I so little suited that station. “You look,” cried he, “quite renewed, revived, disengaged; you seemed, when I conversed with you last, at the trial, quite altered; I never saw such a change for the better as quitting a Court has brought about!”

Ah! thought I, this is simply a mistake, from reasoning according to your own feelings. I only seemed altered for the worse at the trial, because I there looked coldly and distantly, from distaste and disaffection to your proceedings; and I here look changed for the better, only because I here meet you without the chill of disapprobation, and with the glow of my first admiration of you and your talents!








BURKE’S CONVERSATIONAL POWERS.

Mrs. Crewe gave him her place, and he sat by me, and entered into a most animated conversation upon Lord Macartney and his Chinese expedition, and the two Chinese youths who were to accompany it. These last he described minutely and spoke of the extent of the undertaking in high, and perhaps fanciful, terms, but with allusions and anecdotes intermixed, so full of general information and brilliant ideas, that I soon felt the whole of my first enthusiasm return, and with it a sensation of pleasure that made the day delicious to me.

After this my father joined us, and politics took the lead. He spoke then with an eagerness and a vehemence that instantly banished the graces, though it redoubled the energies, of his discourse. “The French Revolution,” he said, “which began by authorising and legalising Injustice, and which by rapid steps had proceeded to every species of despotism except owning a despot, was now menacing all the universe and all mankind with the most violent concussion of principle and order.” My father heartily joined, and I tacitly assented to his doctrines, though I feared not with his fears.

One Speech I Must repeat, for it is explanatory of his conduct, and nobly explanatory. When lie had expatiated upon the present dangers, even to English liberty and property, from the contagion of havoc and novelty, he earnestly exclaimed, “This it is that has made ME an abettor and supporter of kings! Kings are necessary, and if we would preserve peace and prosperity, we must preserve THEM we must all put our shoulders to the work! Ay, and stoutly, too!”

This subject lasted till dinner.

At dinner Mr. Burke sat next Mrs. Crewe, and I had the happiness to be seated next Mr. Burke, and my other neighbour was his amiable son.

The dinner, and the dessert when the servants were removed, were delightful. How I wish my dear Susanna and Fredy could meet this wonderful man when he is easy, happy, and with people he cordially likes! But politics, even on his own side, must always be excluded; his irritability Is so terrible on that theme that it gives immediately to his face the expression of a man who is going to defend himself from murderers. I can give you only a few little detached traits of what passed, as detail would be endless.

Charles Fox being mentioned, Mrs. Crewe told us that he had lately said, upon being shown some passage in Mr. Burke’s book which he had warmly opposed, but which had, in the event, made its own justification, very candidly, “Well! Burke is right—but Burke is often right, only he is right too soon.”

“Had Fox seen some things in that book,” answered Mr. Burke, “as soon, he would at this moment, in all probability, be first minister of this country.”

“What!” cried Mrs. Crewe, “with Pitt?—No!—no!—Pitt won’t go out, and Charles Fox will never make a coalition with Pitt.”

“And why not?” said Mr. Burke, dryly; “why not this coalition as well as other coalitions?”

Nobody tried to answer this.

“Charles Fox, however,” said Mr. Burke afterwards, “can never internally like the French Revolution. He is entangled; but, in himself, if he should find no other objection to it, he has at least too much taste for such a revolution.”

Mr. Elliot related that he had lately been in a company of some of the first and most distinguished men of the French nation, now fugitives here, and had asked them some questions about the new French ministry; they had answered that they knew them not even by name till now! “Think,” cried he, “what a ministry that must be! Suppose a new administration formed here of Englishmen of whom we had never before heard the names! what statesmen they must be! how prepared and fitted for government! To begin by being at the helm!”

Mr. Richard Burke related, very comically, various censures cast upon his brother, accusing him of being the friend of despots, and the abettor of slavery, because he had been shocked at the imprisonment of the king of France, and was anxious to preserve our own limited monarchy in the same state in which it so long had flourished.

Mr. Burke looked half alarmed at his brother’s opening, but, when he had finished, he very good-humouredly poured out a glass of wine, and, turning to me, said, “Come then—here’s slavery for ever!”

This was well understood, and echoed round the table with hearty laughter.

“This would do for you completely, Mr. Burke,” said Mrs. Crewe, “if it could get into a newspaper! Mr. Burke, they would say, has now spoken out; the truth has come to light unguardedly, and his real defection from the cause Of true liberty is acknowledged. I should like to draw up the paragraph!”

“And add,” said Mr. Burke, “the toast was addressed to Miss Burney, in order to pay court to the queen!”

This sport went on till, upon Mr. Elliot’s again mentioning France and the rising Jacobins, Mr. Richard Burke loudly gave a new toast—“Come!” cried he, “here’s confusion to Confusion!”

Mr. Windham, who Was gone into Norfolk for the summer, was frequently mentioned, and always with praise. Mr. Burke, upon Mr. Elliot’s saying something of his being very thin, warmly exclaimed, “He is just as he should be! If I were Windham this minute, I Should not wish to be thinner, nor fatter, nor taller, nor shorter, nor any way, nor in anything, altered.”

Some time after, speaking of former days, you may believe I was struck enough to hear Mr. Burke say to Mrs. Crewe, “I wish you had known Mrs. Delany! She was a pattern of a perfect fine lady, a real fine lady, of other days! Her manners were faultless; her deportment was all elegance, her speech was all sweetness, and her air and address all dignity. I always looked up to her as the model of an accomplished woman of former times.”

Do you think I heard such a testimony to my most revered and beloved departed friend unmoved?

Afterwards, still to Mrs. Crewe, he proceeded to say, she had been married to Mr. Wycherley, the author.365 There I ventured to interrupt him, and tell him I fancied that must be some great mistake, as I had been well acquainted with her history from her own mouth. He seemed to have heard it from some good authority; but I could by no means accede my belief, as her real life and memoirs had been so long in my hands, written by herself to a certain period, and, for some way, continued by me. This, however, I did not mention.








A WILD IRISH GIRL.

When we left the dining-parlour to the gentlemen, Miss F——— seized my arm, without the smallest previous speech, and, with a prodigious Irish brogue, said “Miss Burney, I am so glad you can’t think to have this favourable opportunity of making an intimacy with you! I have longed to know you ever since I became rational!”

I was glad, too, that nobody heard her! She made me walk off with her in the garden, whither we had adjourned for a stroll, at a full gallop, leaning upon my arm, and putting her face close to mine, and sputtering at every word from excessive eagerness.

“I have the honour to know some of your relations in Ireland,” she continued; “that is, if they an’t yours, which they are very sorry for, they are your sister’s, which is almost the same thing. Mr. Shirley first lent me ‘Cecilia,’ and he was so delighted to hear my remarks! Mrs. Shirley’s a most beautiful creature; she’s grown so large and so big! and all her daughters are beautiful; so is all the family. I never saw Captain Phillips, but I dare say he’s beautiful.”

She is quite a wild Irish girl. Presently she talked of Miss Palmer. “O, she loves you!” she cried; “she says she saw you last Sunday, and she never was so happy in her life. She said you looked sadly.”

This Miss F——— is a handsome girl, and seems very good humoured. I imagine her but just imported, and I doubt not but the soft-mannered, and well-bred, and quiet Mrs. Burke will soon subdue this exuberance of loquacity.

I gathered afterwards from Mrs. Crewe, that my curious new acquaintance made innumerable inquiries concerning my employment and office under the queen. I find many people much disturbed to know whether I had the place of the Duchess of Ancastor, on one side, or of a chamber-maid, on the other. Truth is apt to lie between conjectures.








ERSKINE’S EGOTISM.

The party returned with two very singular additions to its number—Lord Loughborough,366 and Mr. and Mrs. Erskine.367 They have villas at Hampstead, and were met in the walk; Mr. Erskine else would not, probably, have desired to meet Mr. Burke, who openly in the House of Commons asked him if he knew what friendship meant, when he pretended to call him, Mr. Burke, his friend?

There was an evident disunion of the cordiality of the party from this time. My father, Mr. Richard Burke, his nephew, and Mr. Elliot entered into some general discourse; Mr. Burke took up a volume Of Boileau, and read aloud, though to himself, and with a pleasure that soon made him seem to forget all intruders; Lord Loughborough joined Mrs. Burke and Mr. Erskine, seating himself next to Mrs. Crewe, engrossed her entirely, yet talked loud enough for all to hear who were not engaged themselves.

For me, I sat next Mrs. Erskine, who seems much a woman of the world, for she spoke with me just as freely, and readily, and easily as if we had been old friends.

Mr. Erskine enumerated all his avocations to Mrs. Crewe, and, amongst others, mentioned, very calmly, having to plead against Mr. Crewe upon a manor business in Cheshire. Mrs. Crewe hastily and alarmed interrupted him, to inquire what he meant, and what might ensue to Mr. Crewe? “O, nothing but the loss of the lordship upon that spot,” he coolly answered; “but I don’t know that it will be given against him: I only know I shall have three hundred Pounds for it.”

Mrs. Crewe looked thoughtful; and Mr. Erskine then began to speak of the new Association for Reform, by the friends of the people, headed by Messrs. Grey and Sheridan, and sustained by Mr. Fox, and openly opposed by Mr. Windham, as well as Mr. Burke. He said much of the use they had made of his name, though he had never yet been to the society; and I began to understand that he meant to disavow it; but presently he added, “I don’t know whether I shall ever attend—I have so much to do—so little time: however, the people must be supported."368

“PRAY, will you tell me,” said Mrs. Crewe, drily, “what you mean by the people? I never knew.”

He looked surprised, but evaded any answer and soon after took his leave, with his wife, who seems by no means to admire him as much as he admires himself, if I may judge by short odd speeches which dropped from her. The eminence of Mr. Erskine seems all for public life; in private, his excessive egotisms undo him.

Lord Loughborough instantly took his seat next to Mrs. Crewe; and presently related a speech which Mr. Erskine has lately made at some public meeting, and which he opened to this effect:—“As to me, gentlemen, I have some title to give my opinions freely. Would you know what my title is derived from? I challenge any man to inquire! If he ask my birth,—its genealogy may dispute with kings! If my wealth, it is all for which I have time to hold out my hand! If my talents,—No! of those, gentlemen, I leave you to judge for yourselves."369








CAEN-WOOD.

June 22.—Mrs. Crewe took my father and myself to see the Hampstead lions. We went to Caen-wood, to see the house and pictures. Poor Lord Mansfield370 has not been downstairs, the housekeeper told us, for the last four years; yet she asserts he is by no means superannuated, and frequently sees his very intimate friends, and seldom refuses to be consulted by any lawyers. He was particularly connected with my revered Mrs. Delany, and I felt melancholy upon entering his house to recollect how often that beloved lady had planned carrying thither Miss Port and myself, and how often we had been invited by Miss Murrays, my lord’s nieces. I asked after those ladies, and left them my respects. I heard they were up-stairs with Lord Mansfield, whom they never left.

Many things in this house were interesting, because historical but I fancy the pictures, at least, not to have much other recommendation. A portrait Of Pope, by himself, I thought extremely curious. It is very much in the style of most of Jervas’s own paintings. They told us that, after the burning of Lord Mansfield’s house in town, at the time of Lord G. Gordon’s riots, thousands came to inquire, if this original portrait was preserved. Luckily it was at Caen-wood.

We spent a good deal of time in the library,—and saw first editions of almost all Queen Anne’s classics; and lists of subscribers to Pope’s “Iliad,” and many such matters, all enlivening to some corner or other of the memory.








AN ADVENTURE WITH MRS. CREWE.

We next proceeded to the Shakspeare gallery,371 which I had never seen. And here we met with an adventure that finished our morning’s excursions.

There was a lady in the first room, dressed rather singularly, quite alone, and extremely handsome, who was parading about with a nosegay in her hand, which she frequently held to her nose, in a manner that was evidently calculated to attract notice. We therefore passed on to the inner room, to avoid her. Here we had but just all taken our stand opposite different pictures, when she also entered, and, coming pretty close to my father, sniffed at her flowers with a sort of extatic eagerness, and then let them fall. My father picked them up, and gravely presented them to her. She curtsied to the ground in receiving them, and presently crossed over the room, and, brushing past Mrs. Crewe, seated herself immediately by her elbow. Mrs. Crewe, not admiring this familiarity, moved away, giving her at the same time a look of dignified distance that was almost petrifying.

It did not prove so to this lady, who presently followed her to the next picture, and, sitting as close as she could to where Mrs. Crewe stood, began singing various quick passages, without words or connexion. I saw Mrs. Crewe much alarmed, and advanced to stand by her, meaning to whisper her that we had better leave the room; and this idea was not checked by seeing that the flowers were artificial. By the looks we interchanged we soon mutually said, “This is a mad woman.” We feared irritating her by a sudden flight, but gently retreated, and soon got quietly into the large room when she bounced up with a great noise, and, throwing the veil of her bonnet violently back, as if fighting it, she looked after us, pointing at Mrs. Crewe.

Seriously frightened, Mrs. Crewe seized my father’s arm, and hurried up two or three steps into a small apartment. Here Mrs. Crewe, addressing herself to an elderly gentleman, asked if he could inform the people below that a mad woman was terrifying the company; and while he was receiving her commission with the most profound respect, and with an evident air of admiring astonishment at her beauty, we heard a rustling, and, looking round, saw the same figure hastily striding after us, and in an instant at our elbows.

Mrs. Crewe turned quite pale; it was palpable she was the object pursued, and she most civilly and meekly articulated, “I beg your pardon, ma’am,” as she hastily passed her, and hurried down the steps. We were going to run for our lives, when Miss Townshend whispered Mrs. Crewe it was Only Mrs. Wells the actress, and said she was certainly Only performing vagaries to try effect, which she was quite famous for doing.

It would have been food for a painter to have seen Mrs. Crewe during this explanation. All her terror instantly gave way to indignation; and scarcely any pencil could equal the high vivid glow of her cheeks. To find herself made the object of game to the burlesque humour of a bold player, was an indignity she could not brook, and her mind was immediately at work how to assist herself against such unprovoked and unauthorized effrontery.

The elderly gentleman who, with great eagerness, had followed Mrs. Crewe, accompanied by a young man who was of his party, requested more particularly her commands; but before Mrs. Crewe’s astonishment and resentment found words, Mrs. Wells, singing, and throwing herself into extravagant attitudes, again rushed down the steps, and fixed her eyes on Mrs. Crewe. This, however, no longer served her purpose. Mrs. Crewe fixed her in return, and with a firm, composed, commanding air and look that, though it did not make this strange creature retreat, somewhat disconcerted her for a few minutes. She then presently affected a violent coughing such a one as almost shook the room; though such a forced and unnatural noise as rather resembled howling than a cold.

This over, and perceiving Mrs. Crewe still steadily keeping her ground, she had the courage to come up to us, and, with a flippant air, said to the elderly gentleman, “Pray, sir, will you tell me what it is o’clock?”

He looked vexed to be called a moment from looking at Mrs. Crewe, and, with a forbidding gravity, answered her, “About two.”

“No offence, I hope, sir?” cried she, seeing him turn eagerly from her. He bowed without looking at her, and she strutted away, still, however, keeping in sight, and playing various tricks, her eyes perpetually turned towards Mrs. Crewe, who as regularly, met them, with an expression such as might have turned a softer culprit to stone.

Our cabal was again renewed, and Mrs. Crewe again told this gentleman to make known to the proprietors of the gallery that this person was a nuisance to the company, when, suddenly re-approaching as, she called out, “Sir! sir!” to the younger of our new protectors.

He coloured, and looked much alarmed, but only bowed. “Pray, sir,” cried she, “what’s o’clock?”

He looked at his watch, and answered.

“You don’t take it ill, I hope, sir?” she cried.

He only bowed.

“I do no harm, sir,” said she; “I never bite.”

The poor young man looked aghast, and bowed lower; but Mrs. Crewe, addressing herself to the elder, said aloud, “I beg you, sir, to go to Mr. Boydell; you may name me to him—Mrs. Crewe.”

Mrs. Wells at this walked away, yet still in sight. “You may tell him what has happened, sir, in all our names. You may tell him Miss Burney—”

“O no!” cried I, in a horrid fright, “I beseech I may not be named! And, indeed, ma’am, it may be better to let it all alone. It will do no good; and it may all get into the newspapers.”

“And if it does,” cried Mrs. Crewe, “what is it to us? We have done nothing; we have given no offence, and made no disturbance. This person has frightened us all wilfully, and Utterly without provocation; and now she can frighten us no longer, she would brave us. Let her tell her own story, and how will it harm us?”

“Still,” cried I, “I must always fear being brought into any newspaper cabals. Let the fact be ever so much against her, she will think the circumstances all to her honour if a paragraph comes out beginning ‘Mrs. Crewe and Mrs. Wells.’”

Mrs. Crewe liked this sound as little as I should have liked it in placing my own name where I put hers. She hesitated a little what to do, and we all walked down-stairs, where instantly this bold woman followed us, paraded Up and down the long shop with a dramatic air while our group was in conference, and then, sitting down at the clerk’s desk, and calling in a footman, she desired him to wait while she wrote a note.

She scribbled a few lines, and read aloud her direction, “To Mr. Topham;” and giving the note to the man, said, “Tell your master that is something to make him laugh. Bid him not send to the press till I see him.”

Now as Mr. Topham is the editor of “The World,” and notoriously her protector, as her having his footman acknowledged, this looked rather serious, and Mrs. Crewe began to partake of my alarm. She therefore, to my infinite satisfaction, told her new friend that she desired he would name no names, but merely mention that some ladies had been frightened.... We then got into Mrs. Crewe’s carriage, and not till then would this facetious Mrs. Wells quit the shop. And she walked in sight, dodging us, and playing antics of a tragic sort of gesture, till we drove out of her power to keep up with us. What a strange creature!








AN INVITATION FROM ARTHUR YOUNG.

(Mr. Arthur Young to Fanny Burney.) Bradfield Farm, June 18, 1792. WHAT a plaguy business ’tis to take up one’s pen to write to a person who is constantly moving in a vortex of pleasure, brilliancy, and wit,—whose movements and connections are, as it were, in another world! One knows not how to manage the matter with such folks, till you find by a little approximation and friction of tempers and things that they are mortal, and no more than good sort of people in the main, only garnished with something we do not possess ourselves. Now then, the consequence.

Only three pages to write, and one lost in introduction! To the matter at last.

It seemeth that you make a journey to Norfolk. Now do ye see, if you do not give a call on the farmer, and examine his ram (an old acquaintance), his bull, his lambs, calves, and crops, he will say but one thing of you—that you are fit for a court, but not for a farm; and there is more happiness to be found among my rooks than in the midst of all the princes and princesses of Golconda. I would give an hundred pound to see you married to a farmer that never saw London, with plenty of poultry ranging in a few green fields, and flowers and shrubs disposed where they should be, around a cottage, and not around a breakfast-room in Portman-square, fading in eyes that know not to admire them. In honest truth now, let me request your company here. It will give us all infinite pleasure. You are habituated to admiration, but you shall have here what is much better—the friendship of those who loved you long before the world admired you. Come, and make old friends happy!








FOOTNOTES:




230 (return)
[ Colonel Greville, called in the “Diary” “Colonel Wellbred,” one of the king’s equerries, whom M. de Guiffardiere (“Mr. Turbulent”) was particularly anxious to introduce to Miss Burney.—ED.]

231 (return)
[ I “The Paston Letters” were first published, from the original manuscripts, in 1787. They were chiefly written by or to members of the Paston family in Norfolk during the reigns of Henry VI., Edward IV., Richard III., and Henry VII. The letter above alluded to is No. 91 in the collection. It is a letter of good Counsel to his young son, written in a very tender and religious strain, by the Duke of Suffolk, on the 30th of April, 1450, the day on which he quitted England to undergo his five years’ banishment. The duke had been impeached of high treason, and condemned to this term of banishment, through the king’s interposition, to save him from a worse fate. But his fate was not to be eluded. He set sail on the 30th of April, was taken on the sea by his enemies, and beheaded on the 2nd of May following.—ED.]

232 (return)
[ Miss Burney had obtained the tacit consent of the queen that M. de Guiffardiere should travel occasionally with the equerries, instead of taking his usual place in the coach assigned to the keepers of the robes. Her real motive in making the application had been a desire to see less of this boisterous gentleman, but she had put it upon his attachment to Colonel Greville—ED.]

233 (return)
[ Benjamin-west, R.A., who succeeded Reynolds as President of the Royal Academy, on the death of the latter in 1792. This mediocre painter was a prodigious favourite with George III., for whom many of his works were executed.—ED.]

234 (return)
[ The Duchess Jules de Polignac, the celebrated favourite of Marie Antoinette. She and her husband, who had been raised by the queen from a condition of positive poverty, were hated in France, both as Court favourites, and on account of the wealth which, it was believed, they had taken advantage of their position to amass. “Mille ecus,” cried Mirabeau, “A la famille d’Assas pour avoir sauve l’etat; un million a la famille Polignac pour l’avoir perdu!”

The ostensible object of the duchess’s visit to England was to drink the Bath Waters, but there are good grounds for believing that her real purpose was to make an arrangement with M. de la Motte for the suppression of some scurrilous Memoirs which it was rumoured his wife had written, and in which, among other things, Marie Antoinette was accused of being the principal culprit in the notorious Diamond Necklace fraud. M. de la Motte states in his autobiography that he met the Duchess Jules and her Sister-in-law, the Countess Diane, at the Duchess of Devonshire’s (the beautiful Georgiana), at the request of the latter, when certain overtures were made to him, and trustworthy authorities assert that a large sum of money was afterwards paid to the De la Mottes, to suppress the Memoirs which were however eventually published. When the French Revolution broke out the Polignacs were among the first to emigrate. The duchess died at Vienna in December, 1793, a few months after Marie Antoinette had perished on the scaffold.—ED.]

236 (return)
[ The storm had been gathering round Hastings ever since his return to England in June, 1785, within a week of which Burke had given notice in the House of Commons of a motion affecting the conduct of the late Governor-General in India. His impeachment was voted in May, 1787, and preparations for his trial were now going actively forward. We shall find hereafter, in the Diary, some sketches, from Fanny’s point of view, of scenes in this famous trial, which commenced in February, 1788.—-ED.]

237 (return)
[ This was an old grievance. In 1780 Burke had introduced a hill “for the better regulation of his majesty’s civil establishments, and of certain public offices; for the limitation of pensions, and the suppression of sundry useless, expensive and inconvenient places; and for applying the monies saved thereby to the public service.” The bill was defeated at the time, but was re-introduced with certain alterations, and finally passed both houses by a large majority in 1782.—-ED.]

238 (return)
[ Colonel Gwynn who had just arrived at Windsor to succeed Colonel Manners in the office of equerry in waiting to the King. Colonel Gwynn was the husband of Mary Horneck, Goldsmith’s “Jessamy Bride.”— ED.]

239 (return)
[ Henry William Bunbury, the well-known caricaturist. He was connected by marriage with Colonel Gwynn, having married, in 1771, Catherine, the “Little Comedy,” sister of the “Jessamy Bride.”—ED.]

240 (return)
[ i.e., of the Play which was to be read by Mrs. Siddons. See P. 55.—-ED.]

242 (return)
[ See note 210, ante, vol. 1, P. 370.—-ED.]

243 (return)
[ Mr. Anthony Shepherd, Plumian Professor of Astronomy at Cambridge. We meet with him occasionally in the “Early Diary:” “dullness itself” Fanny once calls him (in 1774).—ED.]

244 (return)
[ Fanny’s maid.—ED.]

245 (return)
[ Susan Phillips and the Lockes had stayed at Windsor from the 10th to the 17th of September.—ED.]

246 (return)
[ This magnificent panegyric relates to a young amateur, William Locke, the son of Fanny’s friends, Mr. and Mrs. Locke. But there was more than a little of the amateur about Mr. Bunbury himself. His works bear no comparison with those of the great masters of caricatured Rowlandson and Gulray.—ED.]

247 (return)
[ Fanny’s man-servant, a Swiss.—ED.]

248 (return)
[ Mr. Fisher was a canon at Windsor, and an amateur landscape-painter. He had recently married.—ED.]

249 (return)
[ “Letters to and from Dr. Johnson,” published by Mrs. Piozzi in 1788.—-ED.]

250 (return)
[ Thrale’s only son died, a child, in March, 1776.——ED.]

251 (return)
[ A farce, adapted from Bickerstaff’s opera, “Love in the City.”—ED.]

252 (return)
[ Eva Maria Feigel, a Viennese dancer, whom Garrick married in 1749. Fanny writes of her in 1771: “Mrs. Garrick is the most attentively polite and perfectly well-bred woman in the world; her speech is all softness; her manners all elegance; her smiles all sweetness. There is something so peculiarly graceful in her motion, and pleasing in her address, that the most trifling words have weight and power, when spoken by her, to oblige and even delight.” (“Early Diary,” vol. i. p. 111.) She died in 1822; her husband in 1779.—-ED.]

253 (return)
[ The Hon. Mrs. Boscawen, widow of Admiral Boscawen.—ED.]

254 (return)
[ Elizabeth Carter, the celebrated translator of Epictetus. She was now in her seventieth year, and had been for many years an esteemed friend of Dr. Johnson. She died in 1806.—-ED.]

255 (return)
[ Mr. Langton’s wife was the Countess dowager of Rothes, widow of the eighth earl. Lady Jane Leslie, who married Sir Lucas Pepys, the physician, also enjoyed, in her own right, the title of Countess of Rothes.—ED.]

256 (return)
[ Horace Walpole.-E D.]

257 (return)
[ “Selections from the State Papers preserved in the Foreign Department of the Government of India, 1772-1785,” Edited by G. W. Forrest, VOL i. P, 178.]

258 (return)
[ “Warren Hastings,” by Sir Alfred Lyall, p. 54.]

259 (return)
[ “Selections from State Papers,” vol. i. p. xlviii.]

260 (return)
[ In his defence at the bar of the House of Commons, (Feb. 4th, 1788) Sir Elijah Impey attempted to justify his conduct by precedent, but the single precedent on which he relied does not prove much in his favour. A Hindoo, named Radachund Metre, was condemned to death for forgery in 1765, but was pardoned on this very ground, that capital punishment for such a crime was unheard of in India.]

261 (return)
[ Speech on Mr. Fox’s East India Bill, Dec. 1st, 1783,]

262 (return)
[ Fanny’s brother, the scholar. He was, at this time, master of a school at Hammersmith—ED.]

263 (return)
[ Windham had introduced and carried through the House of Commons the charge respecting Fyzoolla Khan, the Nawab of Rampore; but this charge, with many others of the original articles of impeachment, was not proceeded upon at the trial. Fyzoolla Khan was one of the Rohilla chiefs, who, more fortunate than the rest, had been permitted by treaty, after the conquest of Rohilcund in 17 74, to retain possession of Rampore as a vassal of the Vizier of Oude. By this treaty the Nawab of Rampore was empowered to maintain an army of 5,000 horse and foot in all and in return he bound himself to place from 2,000 to 3,000 troops at the disposal of the Vizier whenever that assistance might be required. In November, 1780, the Vizier, or rather, Hastings, speaking by the mouth of the Vizier, called upon Fyzoolla Khan to furnish forthwith a contingent of 5,000 horse. The unhappy Nawab offered all the assistance in his power, but not only Was the demand unwarranted by the terms of the treaty, but the number of horse required was far greater than he had the means to furnish. Thereupon Mr. Hastings gave permission to the Vizier to dispossess his vassal of his dominions. This iniquitous scheme, however, was never carried out, and in 1782, Fyzoolla Khan made his peace with the Governor-General, and procured his own future exemption from military service, by payment of a large sum of money.— ED.]

264 (return)
[ Mr. Hastings’s enemy was Mr. afterwards Sir Philip Francis, by some people supposed to have been the author of “Junius’s Letters.” The best friend of Mr. Hastings here alluded to was Clement Francis, Esq. of Aylsham, in Norfolk, who married Charlotte, fourth daughter of Dr. Burney. (Francis, though an active supporter of the impeachment, was not one of the “managers.” He had been nominated to the committee by Burke, but rejected by the House, on the ground of his well-known animosity to Hastings.—ED.)]

265 (return)
[ After all, Impey escaped impeachment. In December, 1787, Sir Gilbert Elliot, one of the managers of Hastings’ impeachment, brought before the House of Commons six charges against Impey, of which the first, and most serious, related to the death of Nuncomar. The charges were referred to a committee, before which Impey made his defence, February 4, 1788. On May 9, a division was taken on the first charge, and showed a majority of eighteen in favour of Impey. The subject was resumed, May 27, and finally disposed of by the rejection of sir Gilbert Elliot’s motion without a division—ED.]

266 (return)
[ Saturday, February 16, 1788.—-ED.]

267 (return)
[ Macaulay attributes perhaps too exclusively to Court influence Fanny’s prepossession in favour of Hastings. It should be remembered that her family and many of her friends were, equally with herself, partisans of Hastings, to whom, moreover, she had been first introduced by a much valued friend, Mr. Cambridge (see ante, vol. i., P. 326).—ED.]

268 (return)
[ “Miss Fuzilier” is the name given in the “Diary” to Miss Charlotte Margaret Gunning, daughter of Sir Robert Gunning. She married Colonel Digby (“Mr. Fairly”) in 1790.—-ED.]

269 (return)
[ This would seem to fix the date as Thursday, February 21, Thursday being mentioned by Fanny as the Court-day (see ante, p. 125). According, however, to Debrett’s “History of the Trial,” Fox spoke on the charge relating to Cheyt Sing on Friday, February 22, the first day of the Court’s sitting since the preceding Tuesday.—ED.]

270 (return)
[ The managers had desired that each charge should be taken separately, and replied to, before proceeding to the next. Hastings’s counsel, on the other hand, demanded that all the charges should be presented before the defence was opened. The Lords, by a large majority, decided against the managers.—ED.]

271 (return)
[ Windham relates that when he called upon Dr. Johnson, six days before his death, Johnson put into his hands a copy of the New Testament, saying “Extremum hoc mumus morientis habeto.” See the extracts from Windham’s journal in Croker’s “Boswell,” v., 326. In a codicil to Johnson’s will, dated Dec. 9, 1784, we find, among other bequests of books, “to Mr. Windham, Poete Greci Henrici per Henriculum Stephanum.”—ED.]

272 (return)
[ i.e. to the benches assigned to the Commons in Westminster Hall. These immediately adjoined the chamberlain’s box in which Miss Burney was seated.—ED.]

273 (return)
[ Mrs. Delany died on the 15th of April, 1788.—-ED.]

274 (return)
[ Her sister Susan and Mrs. Locke. The day referred to must have been Friday, April 11th, on which day Mr. Anstruther spoke on the charge relating to Cheyt Sing.—ED.

275 (return)
[ See ante, vol. 1, p. 220.—ED.]

276 (return)
[ The young son of Colonel Digby.—ED.]

277 (return)
[ Mrs. Haggerdorn, Fanny’s predecessor in office. See ante, p. 26.—-ED.]

278 (return)
[ “Cerbera” was Fanny’s not inappropriate name for Mrs. Schwellenberg.—ED.]

279 (return)
[ By William Falconer, born at Edinburgh in 1730. His poem, “The Shipwreck,” was suggested by his own experience at sea, and was first published in 1762. Falconer sailed for Bengal in 1769, the vessel touched at the Cape in December, and was never heard of more.—ED.]

280 (return)
[ In the “European Magazine” for May 1788, appeared an article from the pen of Baretti, headed “On Signora Piozzi’s publication of Dr. Johnson’s Letters, Stricture the First.” It is filled with coarse, personal abuse of the lady, whom the author terms “the frontless female, who goes now by the mean appellation of Piozzi.” “Stricture the Second,” in the same tone, appeared the following month, and the “Third,” which closed the series, in August of the same year. In the last number Baretti comments, with excessive bitterness, on Mrs. Piozzi’s second marriage.—ED.]

281 (return)
[ “Original Love-letters between a Lady of Quality and a Person of Inferior Station.” Dublin, 1784. Though by no means devoid of “nonsense and romance,” the little book is not altogether undeserving of Colonel Digby’s encomium. The story is very slight, and concludes, quite unnecessarily and rather unexpectedly, with the death of the gentleman, just as his good fortune seems assured.—ED.]

282 (return)
[ Robert Raikes, who was born at Gloucester in 1735, was a printer and the son of a printer. His father was proprietor of the “Gloucester journal.” In conjunction with the Rev. Mr. Stocks, Raikes founded the institution of Sunday Schools in 1781. He died at Gloucester in 1811.—-ED.]

283 (return)
[ “Cui Bono? or, an Inquiry what Benefits can arise either to the English or the Americans, the French, Spaniards, or Dutch, from the greatest victories, or successes, in the present War, being a Series of Letters, addressed to Monsieur Necker, late Controller-General of the Finances of France,” By Josiah Tucker, D.D., published at Gloucester, 1781. The pamphlet was written in the advocacy of a general peace, and attracted much attention. The third edition appeared in 1782.—-ED.]

284 (return)
[ Fanny alludes to an old adventure of Baretti’s. He was accosted in the Haymarket by a prostitute, October 6, 1769. The woman was importunate, and the irritable Italian struck her on the hand; upon which three men came up and attacked him. He then drew a dagger in self defence, and mortally wounded one of his assailants. Baretti was tried at the Old Bailey for murder, October 20, and acquitted; Johnson, Burke, and Garrick appearing as witnesses to his character.—ED.]

285 (return)
[ With all Fanny’s partiality for the “sweet queen,” the evidences of that sweet creature’s selfishness keep turning up in a very disagreeable manner—ED.]

286 (return)
[ “The Country Girl,” Which is still occasionally performed, is an adaptation by Garrick of one of the most brilliant, and most indecent, of Restoration comedies—Wycherley’s “Country Wife.” Mrs. Jordan played the part of “Peggy,” the “Margery Punchwife” of Wycherley’s play. It was in this part that she made her first appearance in London, at Drury Lane, October 18, 1785. She was one of the most admired actresses of her time. Genest, who saw her, writes of her, “As an actress she never had a superior in her proper line Mrs. Jordan’s Country Girl, Romp, Miss Hoyden, and all characters of that description were exquisite—in breeches parts no actress can be put in competition with her but Mrs. Woffington, and to Mrs. Woffington she was as superior in point of voice as Mrs. Woffington was superior to her in beauty” (viii. p. 430). Mrs. Jordan died at St. Cloud, July 5, 1816, aged fifty. There is an admirable portrait of her by Romney in the character of the “Country Girl.”—ED.]

287 (return)
[ See ante, vol. i., p. 151.—-ED.]

288 (return)
[ Fanny’s cousin, the son of Dr. Burney’s brother, Richard Burney of Worcester.—ED.]

289 (return)
[ The poem in question is the “Ode to the Evening Star,” the fifteenth of the first hook of Odes. Mr. Akenside, having paid his tear on fair Olympia’s virgin tomb, roams in quest of Philomela’s bower, and desires the evening star to send its golden ray to guide him, it is pretty, however. The first stanza runs as follows:—

“To night retired, the queen of heaven With young Endymion strays; And now to Hesper it is given Awhile to rule the vacant sky, Till she shall to her lamp supply A stream of lighter rays.”—ED.]

290 (return)
[ Joseph Jérome le Français de Lalande, one of the most distinguished of French astronomers. He was born in 1732, and died in 1807.—-ED.]

291 (return)
[ Silly: insipid.]

293 (return)
[ “‘Tis very troublesome, but one must say pretty things to ladies.”]

294 (return)
[ Physician-in-ordinary to the king—ED.]

295 (return)
[ Her tragedy of “Edwy and Elgiva,” which was produced at Drury Lane in 1795. See note ante, vol. i., p. xlv.—-ED.]

296 (return)
[ 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 (return)
[ “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 (return)
[ One of the apothecaries to the royal household.—ED.]

299 (return)
[ Dr. Richard Warren, one of the physicians in ordinary to the king and the Prince of Wales.—ED.]

300 (return)
[ The Lord chancellor Thurlow.—ED.]

301 (return)
[ 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 (return)
[ “Emmeline, the Orphan of the Castle,” a novel in four volumes, by Charlotte Smith. Published 1788.—-ED.]

303 (return)
[ Mr. Frederick Montagu was not only a member of the opposition but One of the managers of the impeachment of Warren Hastings.—ED.]

304 (return)
[ 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.]

305 (return)
[ The palace of Kew.—ED.]