Here we remained about two hours, unsummoned, unnoticed, unoccupied,—except in forcing open a box which Mrs. Thielky had lent me for my wardrobe, and of which I had left the key, ingeniously, at Windsor. At ten o'clock a maid came to the door, and said supper was ready.
“Who sent you?” I called out.
“Who do you come from?” cried Miss Planta.
She was gone;—we could get no answer. About a quarter of an hour after, one of those gentlemen footmen, for whom you must already have discovered my partiality, called out, from the stairs, without troubling himself to come to the door, “The supper waits.”
He was already gone; but Miss Planta darted after him, calling out, “Who sent you?—who did you come to?”
She was not heard by this gentleman, but what she said was echoed after him by some other, and the answer that reached our ears was, “The equerries want the ladies.”
This was enough; Miss Planta returned quite indignant, after hastily replying, “We don't choose any supper.”
We were now precisely of an opinion. Miss Planta, indeed, was much more angry than myself; for I was very sure the equerries had sent a very different message, and therefore thought nothing of the words used by the servant, but confined all my dissatisfaction to its first origin,—the incivility of the ladies of the house, that they came not themselves, or some one from them, to invite us in a manner that might be accepted. From this time, however, we became more comfortable, as absconding was our mutual desire; and we were flung, by this means, into a style of sociability we might else never have arrived at.
We continued together till Miss Planta thought it right to go and see if Mhaughendorf had prepared every thing for the princesses; and then I was left to myself—the very companion I just at that time most wished a tete-a-tete with—till I was summoned to the queen. In this tete-a-tete, I determined very concisely upon my plan of procedure: which was to quietly keep my own counsel, unless I found my conduct disapproved—and, in that case, to run all risks in openly declaring that I must always prefer solitude to society upon terms to which I was unaccustomed.
A little after the scenes I have described, I was surprised when, late at night, my summons was brought me by Lady Harcourt, who tapped gently at my door, and made me a little visit, previously to telling me her errand. She informed me, also, that the queen had given her command, for Miss Planta and me to belong to the suite the next day, in the visit to Oxford; and that a carriage was accordingly ordered for us.
The queen said not a word to me of the day's adventures and I was glad to have them passed over, especially as Lady Harcourt's visit, and the civility which accompanied it, appeared a little conscious of remissness. But when, in speaking of Oxford, her majesty condescended to ask what gown I had brought with me, how did I rejoice to answer, a new chamberry gauze, instead of only that which I have on, according to my Cerbera's advice.
My next difficulty was for a hair-dresser. Nuneham is three or four miles from Oxford; and I had neither maid to dress nor man to seek a dresser. I could only apply to Mrs. Thielky, and she made it her business to prevail with one of the royal footmen to get me a messenger, to order a hair-dresser from Oxford at six o'clock in the morning. The queen, with most gracious consideration, told me, over night, that she should not want me till eight o'clock.
Thus ended the first night of this excursion.
Aug. 13.—At six o'clock my hair-dresser, to my great satisfaction, arrived. Full two hours was he at work, yet was I not finished, when Swarthy, the queen's hair-dresser, came rapping at my door to tell me her majesty's hair was done, and she was waiting for me. I hurried as fast as I could, and ran down without any cap. She smiled at sight of my hasty attire, and said I should not be distressed about a hair-dresser the next day, but employ Swarthy's assistant, as soon as he had done with the princesses: “You should have had him,” she added, “to-day, if I had known you wanted him.”
When her majesty was dressed, all but the hat, she sent for the three princesses—-and the king came also. I felt very foolish with my uncovered head; but it was somewhat the less awkward from its being very much a custom, in the royal family, to go without caps; though none that appear before them use such a freedom. As soon as the hat was on—
“Now, Miss Burney,” said the queen, “I won't keep you; you had better go and dress too.”
While I was dressing, a footman came to my door, with a formal message that Miss Vernons begged I would come to breakfast. I immediately promised to make haste, glad to find something more resembling civility at length coming round to me. Presently after entered Miss Planta, in high spirits and great enjoyment. She told me she had been acquainting the queen with the whole affair, and that the queen quite approved of our staying upstairs. She had been also with the equerries, and had a fine laugh with them about their “wanting the ladies”, they declared they had sent no message at all, and that the servant had simply received orders to tell us that Miss Vernons desired our company to supper.
I thought it mighty unnecessary to have acquainted the equerries with what could only furnish a laugh against ourselves: however, the thing was done, and down we went together.
The two Miss Vernons, General Harcourt, Colonel Fairly, Major Price, and—Mr. Hagget were all at breakfast. The Miss Vernons immediately began an apology about the supper the preceding night, declaring themselves exceedingly sorry we should not have had any, which they found was entirely owing to a blunder in the message given by the servants.
The gentlemen were all dying to make a laugh about the equerries “wanting the ladies;” and Colonel Fairly began; but the gravity of my behaviour soon quieted him. Mr. Hagget was content to be observant of a new person; General Harcourt scarce ever speaks but from necessity; and Major Price was as grave as myself.
The eldest Miss Vernon is plain, and a little old-maidish but I found her afterwards sensible, well read, and well bred but not quite immediately did she appear so, as you will soon see. The youngest is many years her junior, and fat and handsome, good-humoured, and pleasing in her smiles, though high and distant till they are called forth.
After breakfast, when we were all breaking up, to prepare for church, I had a short explanatory conversation with Major Price, who came to speak to me concerning the preceding evening, and to confess his extreme surprise at our shutting ourselves up from their society. He had had a great mind, he said, to have come himself to see for us, but did not know whether it would be right. They waited, he added—Miss Vernons and all of them—a quarter of an hour after the supper was upon the table, and then a servant came in from us, to tell the equerries that we would not have any supper;—“And, indeed,” continued he, a little forcibly, “I must own I was rather hurt by the message.”
“Hurt?” cried I,—“what a gentle word!—I am sure I think you might rather have been angry.”
“Why—to own the truth—I believe I was.”
I was interrupted before I could explain more fully how the matter stood; nor have I ever found opportunity since. However, I think it very likely he suggested the truth himself. Be that as it may, Miss Vernons went for their cloaks, and Miss Planta ran to the princesses, and therefore I was obliged to be a little abrupt, and retreat also.
When Miss Planta was ready, she came to fetch me. We went downstairs, but knew not whither to proceed. In the eating-parlour we had left only the gentlemen, and they were waiting to attend the king. There was no other place to which we could turn, and we had another of those wandering distresses that had made me so comfortless the night before. My wish was to find Miss Vernons—my expectation was to be found by them. Neither, however, happened; and the first time we met anybody that could give us any information, we were told they had been gone some time.
Very agreeable news!
I could not, however, bear to give up going to church, for I knew that the thanksgiving was to be that morning for the preservation of the king from assassination: and to let pique at this unaccountable behaviour, after all the apologies just passed, prevent my hearing and joining in a prayer of such a nature, in which now I am peculiarly interested, would have been ill worth the while. I therefore—proposed to Miss Planta that we should go by ourselves, and desire one of the servants to show us at once into Mr. Hagget's pew: for that we had already heard offered to the use of Miss Vernons, as Lord Harcourt's was reserved for their majesties. She agreed; and we proceeded, following such stragglers as shewed us our way: the servant to whom we applied having soon deserted us.
The church is in a very beautiful situation in the park, and built in the form of a Grecian temple. I admired it very much for its plainness and elegance. When we got to it, the very first step we took in it shewed us the Miss Vernons, very composedly seated in a large pew at the entrance. I now led the way, and took a place next to Miss Vernons, as much without apology as without invitation.
Mr. Hagget both read and preached. I was a good deal touched by the occasional thanksgiving, chiefly from knowing how much it must affect the queen and the princesses. Cause enough, indeed, is there for thanksgiving and rejoicing the safety of so mild and exemplary a sovereign.
When the service was over, and the royal family were gone, I thought it but right, in such a place, to subdue my proud feelings so far as to say to the Miss Vernons, I hoped we had not disturbed them.
I was very glad I took this little step down, for Miss Vernon, colouring, apologised for not waiting for us, which she said was owing to the fear of not getting into the chapel before the royal family. And then she asked if we should like to look at the altar-piece, which was the work of Mr. Mason.
How many carriages there were, and how they were arranged, I observed not sufficiently to recollect; but the party consisted of their majesties, the Princesses Royal, Augusta, and Elizabeth, the Duchess of Ancaster, Lord and Lady Harcourt, Lady Charlotte Bertie, and the two Miss Vernons. These last ladies are daughters of the late Lord Vernon, and sisters of Lady Harcourt.
General Harcourt, Colonel Fairly, and Major Price and Mr. Hagget, with Miss Planta and myself, completed the group. Miss Planta and I, of course, as the only undignified persons, brought up the rear. We were in a chaise of Lord Harcourt.
The city of Oxford afforded us a very noble view on the road, and its spires, towers, and domes soon made me forget all the little objects of minor spleen that had been crossing me as I journeyed towards them; and indeed, by the time I arrived in the midst of them, their grandeur, nobility, antiquity, and elevation impressed my mind so forcibly, that I felt for the first time since my new situation had taken place a rushing in of ideas that had no connection with it whatever.
The roads were lined with decently dressed people, and the high street was so crowded we were obliged to drive gently and carefully, to avoid trampling the people to death. Yet their behaviour was perfectly respectful and proper. Nothing could possibly be better conducted than the whole of this expedition.
We all drove straight to the theatre[211] in procession. Here, in alighting from the carriages, there was some difficulty, on account of the pressure of the people to see the king and queen, and princesses: however, even then, it was still the genteelest and most decent crowd I ever saw.
Here it was that Major Price signalised that part of his character I have so strongly marked, of his being truly a gentleman. It was his business to attend and guard the king, but he was determined to take almost equal care of some of his majesty's subjects: he was everybody's equerry during the whole expedition, assisting and looking after every creature, seeing us all out of our carriages and into them, and addressing the people, when they pressed too forward, with a steadiness and authority that made them quicker in retreat than all the staves of all the constables, who were attending by dozens at the entrance of every college.
At the outward gate of the theatre, the vice-chancellor, Dr. Chapman, received their majesties. All the professors, doctors, etc., then in Oxford, arrayed in their professional robes, attended him.—How I wished my dear father amongst them.
The vice-chancellor then conducted their majesties along the inner court, to the door of the theatre, all the rest following; and there, waiting their arrival, stood the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, the Marquis of Blandford, in a nobleman's Oxford robe, and Lady Caroline and Lady Elizabeth Spencer.
After they had all paid their duties, a regular procession followed, which I should have thought very pretty, and much have liked to have seen, had I been a mere looker on; but was frequently at a loss, what to do with myself, and uncertain whether I ought to proceed in the suite, or stand by as a spectator; and Miss Planta was still, if possible, more fearful.
The theatre was filled with company, all well dressed, and arranged in rows around it. The area below them was entirely empty, so that there was not the least confusion. The chancellor's chair, at the head of about a dozen steps, was prepared for the king; and just below him, to his left, a form for the queen and the princesses.
The king walked foremost from the area, conducted by the University's vice-chancellor. The queen followed, handed by her own vice-chamberlain. The Princess royal followed, led by the king's aide-de-camp, General Harcourt; and Princess Augusta, leaning on Major Price. Princess Elizabeth walked alone, no other servant of the king being present, and no rank authorising such a conduct, without office.
Next followed the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough; then the Duchess of Ancaster, and Marquis of Blandford—next, Lord and Lady Harcourt, then the two Lady Spencers and Lady Charlotte Bertie, then the Miss Vernons, and then Miss Planta and a certain F. B. .
We were no sooner arranged, and the door of the theatre shut, than the king, his head covered, sat down; the queen did the same, and then the three princesses. All the rest, throughout the theatre, stood.
The vice-chancellor then made a low obeisance to the king, and producing a written paper, began the address of the University, to thank his majesty for this second visit, and to congratulate him and the nation on his late escape from assassination. He read it in an audible and distinct voice; and in its conclusion, an address was suddenly made to the queen, expressive of much concern for her late distress, and the highest and most profound veneration for her amiable and exalted character.
An address, to me so unexpected, and on a subject so recent and of so near concern, in presence of the person preserved, his wife, and his children, was infinitely touching.
The queen could scarcely bear it, though she had already, I doubt not, heard it at Nuneham, as these addresses must be first read in private, to have the answers prepared. Nevertheless, this public tribute of loyalty to the king, and of respect to herself, went gratefully to her heart, and filled her eyes with tears—which she would not, however, encourage, but smiling through them, dispersed them with her fan, with which she was repeatedly obliged to stop their Course down her cheeks.
The princesses, less guarded, the moment their father's danger was mentioned, wept with but little control; and no wonder, for I question if there was one dry eye in the theatre. The tribute, so just, so honourable, so elegant, paid to the exalted character of the queen, affected everybody, with joy for her escape from affliction, and with delight at the reward and the avowal of her virtues.
When the address was ended, the king took a paper from Lord Harcourt, and read his answer. The king reads admirably; with ease, feeling, and force, and without any hesitation. His voice is particularly full and fine. I was very much surprised by its effect. When he had done, he took off his hat, and bowed to the chancellor and professors, and delivered the answer to Lord Harcourt, who, walking backwards, descended the stairs, and presented it to the vice chancellor.
All this ceremony was so perfectly new to me, that I rejoiced extremely in not missing it. Indeed I would not have given up the pleasure of seeing the queen on this occasion for any sort of sight that could have been exhibited to me.
Next followed music: a good organ, very well played, anthem-ed and voluntary-ed us for some time.
After this, the vice-chancellor and professors begged for the honour of kissing the king's hand. Lord Harcourt was again the backward messenger; and here followed a great mark of goodness in the king: he saw that nothing less than a thoroughbred old courtier, such as Lord Harcourt, could walk backwards down these steps, before himself, and in sight of so full a hall of spectators—-and he therefore dispensed with being approached to his seat, and walked down himself into the area, where the vice-chancellor kissed his hand, and was imitated by every professor and doctor in the room.
Notwithstanding this considerate good-nature in his majesty, the sight, at times, was very ridiculous. Some of the worthy collegiates, unused to such ceremonies, and unaccustomed to such a presence, the moment they had kissed the king's hand, turned their backs to him, and walked away as in any common room; others, attempting to do better, did still worse, by tottering and stumbling, and falling foul of those behind them some, ashamed to kneel, took the king's hand straight up to their mouths; others, equally off their guard, plumped down on both knees, and could hardly get up again; and many, in their confusion, fairly arose by pulling his majesty's hand to raise them.
As the king spoke to every one, upon Lord Harcourt's presenting them, this ceremonial took up a good deal of time but it was too new and diverting to appear long.
It was vacation time; there were therefore none of the students present.
When the whole was over, we left the theatre in the same form we had entered it. The Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, the Marquis and the Ladies Spencer, attended the king and queen to their carriages, and then went back to the theatre, to wait for their own.
I cannot now go on with our progress regularly, for I do not remember it. I will only, therefore, in general, say, that I was quite delighted with the city, and so entertained and so pleased with such noble buildings as it presented to me, that I felt, as I have told you, a consciousness to pleasure revived in me, which had long lain nearly dormant.
We went to all the colleges in the same order that we came to the theatre. I shall attempt no descriptions; I shall only mention a few little personal circumstances, and some of those court etiquettes which, from their novelty to me, will, I judge, be new also to my Susan; and what is new in customs or manners is always worth knowing.
At Christ-church college, when we arrived at about three o'clock, in a large hall there was a cold collation prepared for their majesties and the princesses. It was at the upper end of the hall. I could not see of what it consisted, though it would have been very agreeable, after so much standing and sauntering, to have given my opinion of it in an experimental way.
Their majesties and the princesses sat down to this table—-as well satisfied, I believe, as any of their subjects so to do. Duchess of Ancaster and Lady Harcourt stood behind the chairs of the queen and the princess royal. There were 11, other ladies of sufficient rank to officiate for Princesses Augusta and Elizabeth. Lord Harcourt stood behind the king's chair and the vice-chancellor, and the head master of Christ-church' with salvers in their hands, stood near the table, and ready to hand, to the three noble waiters, whatever was wanted: while the other reverend doctors and learned professors stood aloof, equally ready to present to the chancellor and the master whatever they were to forward.
We, meanwhile, untitled attendants, stood at the other end of the room, forming a semi-circle, and all strictly facing the royal collationers. We consisted of the Miss Vernons, thrown out here as much as their humble guests—Colonel Fairly, Major Price, General Harcourt, and,—though I know not why,—Lady Charlotte Bertie;—with all the inferior professors, in their gowns, and some, too much frightened to advance, of the upper degrees. These, with Miss Planta, Mr. Hagget, and myself, formed this attendant semi-circle.
The time of this collation was spent very pleasantly—to me, at least, to whom the novelty of the scene rendered it entertaining. It was agreed that we must all be absolutely famished unless we could partake of some refreshment, as we had breakfasted early, and had no chance of dining before six or seven o'clock. A whisper was soon buzzed through the semi-circle, of the deplorable state of our appetite apprehensions; and presently it reached the ears of some of the worthy doctors. Immediately a new whisper was circulated, which made its progress with great vivacity, to offer us whatever we would wish, and to beg us to name what we chose.
Tea, coffee, and chocolate, were whispered back.
The method of producing, and the means of swallowing them, were much more difficult to settle than the choice of what was acceptable. Major Price and Colonel Fairly, however, seeing a very large table close to the wainscot behind us, desired our refreshments might be privately conveyed there, behind the semi-circle, and that, while all the group backed very near it, one at a time might feed, screened by all the rest from observation.
I suppose I need not inform you, my dear Susan, that to eat in presence of any of the royal family is as much hors d'usage as to be seated. This plan had speedy success, and the very good doctors soon, by sly degrees and with watchful caution, covered the whole table with tea, coffee, chocolate, cakes, and bread and butter.
The further plan, however, of one at a time feasting and the rest fasting and standing sentinels, was not equally approved; there was too much eagerness to seize the present moment, and too much fear of a sudden retreat, to give patience for so slow proceeding. We could do no more, therefore, than stand in double row, with one to screen one throughout the troop; and, in this manner, we were all very plentifully and very pleasantly served.
The Duchess of Ancaster and Lady Harcourt, as soon as the first serving attendance was over, were dismissed from the royal chairs, and most happy to join our group, and partake of our repast. The duchess, extremely fatigued with standing, drew a small body of troops before her, that she might take a few minutes' rest on a form by one of the doors; and Lady Charlotte Bertie did the same, to relieve an ankle which she had unfortunately sprained.
“Poor Miss Burney,” cried the good-natured duchess, “I wish she could sit down, for she is unused to this work. She does not know yet what it is to stand for five hours following, as we do.”
The beautiful window of Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr. Jervis, in New College, would alone have recovered me, had my fatigue been infinitely more serious.
In one of the colleges I stayed so long in an old chapel, lingering over antique monuments, that all the party were vanished before I missed them, except doctors and professors; for we had a train of those everywhere; and I was then a little surprised by the approach of one of them, saying, “You seem inclined to abide with us, Miss Burney?”—and then another, in an accent of facetious gallantry, cried, “No, no, don't let us shut up Miss Burney among old tombs!—No, no!”
After this, many of the good doctors occasionally spoke to me, when there happened to be opportunity. How often did I wish my dear father amongst them! They considered me as a doctor's daughter, and were all most excessively courteous, handing, and pointing, and showing me about as much as possible.
In another college, while Miss Planta and myself were hanging a little back, at the entrance into a small cedar chapel, that would not much more than hold the royal family and their immediate suite, the Duchess of Ancaster, who took every opportunity to show me civilities, and distinguish me, came down the steps, and made me ascend them, to turn with her, when she called to her daughter, and in the most obliging terms introduced me to her, with many kind speeches of her wish that we should cultivate much acquaintance. Lady Charlotte is very handsome, and has a very good figure: she unfortunately lisps very much, which, at first, never prejudices in favour of the understanding; but I have conversed with her too little to know anything more of her than that she is well bred, and seems to have a large portion internally, of the good-natured and obliging disposition of her mother.
At the Town-hall, an address was presented by the mayor and corporation of the city of Oxford to the king, which the mayor read, while the same ceremony of the sitting and standing was practised that I have described at the theatre. The king took off his hat, and bowed, and received the address, after hearing it, but returned no answer. Nor has his majesty made any except to the Oxford University, though they have, since, poured in upon him from every part of the kingdom. The mayor was then knighted.
I think it was in Trinity college that we saw the noblest library I have ever happened to enter. For 'tis but little, my dear Susan, I have seen of sights. Here we had new court scenery, in which I acted but an uncourtier-like part. The queen and princess had seats prepared for them, which, after a stroll up and down the library, they were glad, I believe, to occupy. The ladies of their suite were then graciously ordered by her majesty to be seated, as there was not here the state or public appearance that was observed at the theatre, and in the college where the refreshments were given. As to the poor men, they never must sit in the presence of the queen, be they whom they will, or what they will: so they were fain to stand it out.
Miss Planta glided away, behind a pillar, and, being there unseen, was able to lounge a little. She was dreadfully tired. So was everybody but myself. For me, my curiosity was so awake to every thing, that I seemed insensible to all inconvenience. I could not, in such a library, prevail with myself to so modest a retirement as Miss Planta's: I considered that the queen had herself ordered my attendance in this expedition, and I thought myself very well privileged to make it as pleasant as I could. I therefore stole softly down the room, to the further end, and there amused myself with examining what books were within reach of my eyes, and with taking down and looking into all such as were also within reach of my understanding. This was very pleasant sport to me, and had we stayed there till midnight would have kept me from weariness.
In another college (we saw so many, and in such quick succession, that I recollect not any by name, though all by situation) I saw a performance of courtly etiquette, by Lady Charlotte Bertie, that seemed to me as difficult as any feat I ever beheld, even at Astley's or Hughes's. It was in an extremely large, long, spacious apartment. The king always led the way out, as well as in, upon all entrances and exits: but here, for some reason that I know not, the queen was handed out first; and the princesses, and the aide-de-camp, and equerry followed. The king was very earnest in conversation with some professor; the attendants hesitated whether to wait or follow the queen; but presently the Duchess of Ancaster, being near the door, slipped out, and Lady Harcourt after her. The Miss Vernons, who were but a few steps from them, went next. But Lady Charlotte, by chance, happened to be very high up the room, and near to the king. Had I been in her situation, I had surely waited till his majesty went first—but that would not, I saw, upon this occasion, have been etiquette she therefore faced the king, and began a march backwards,—her ankle already sprained, and to walk forward, and even leaning upon an arm, was painful to her: nevertheless, back she went, perfectly upright, without one stumble, without ever looking once behind to see what she might encounter; and with as graceful a motion, and as easy an air, as I ever saw anybody enter a long room, she retreated, I am sure, full twenty yards backwards out of one.
For me, I was also, unluckily, at the upper end of the room, looking at some portraits of founders, and one of Henry VIII. in particular, from Holbein. However, as soon as I perceived what was going forward,—backward, rather,—I glided near the wainscot, (Lady Charlotte, I should mention, made her retreat along the very middle of the room,) and having paced a few steps backwards, stopped short to recover, and, while I seemed examining some other portrait, disentangled my train from the heels of my shoes, and then proceeded a few steps only more—and then, observing the king turn another way, I slipped a yard or two at a time forwards—and hastily looked back, and then was able to go again according to rule, and in this manner, by slow and varying means, I at length made my escape. Miss Planta stood upon less ceremony, and fairly ran off.
Since that time, however, I have come on prodigiously, by constant practice, in the power and skill of walking backwards, without tripping up my own heels, feeling my head giddy, or treading my train out of the plaits—accidents very frequent among novices in that business; and I have no doubt but that, in the course of a few months, I shall arrive at all possible perfection in the true Court retrograde motion.
In another college, in an old chapter house, I had the opportunity to see another Court-scene. It was nearly round in shape, and had various old images and ornaments. We were all taken in by the doctors attendant, and the party, with doctors and all, nearly filled it; but, finding it crowded, everybody stood upon the less ceremony, and we all made our examinations of the various contents of the room quite at our ease: till suddenly the king and queen, perceiving two very heavy old-fashioned chairs were placed at the head of the room for their reception, graciously accepted them, and sat down. Nothing could exceed the celerity with which all confusion instantly was over, and the most solemn order succeeded to it. Chairs were presented to the three princesses by the side of the queen, and the Duchess of Ancaster and Lady Harcourt planted themselves at their backs; while Lady Charlotte instantly retreated close to the wall, and so did every creature else in the room, all according to their rank or station, and the royal family remained conspicuous and alone, all crowd dispersed, and the space of almost the whole room unoccupied before them, so close to the walls did every body respectfully stand.
The last college we visited was Cardinal Wolsey's—an immense fabric. While roving about a very spacious apartment, Mr. Fairly[212] came behind me, and whispered that I might easily slip out into a small parlour, to rest a little while; almost everybody having taken some opportunity to contrive themselves a little sitting but myself. I assured him, very truly, I was too little tired to make it worth while; but poor Miss Planta was so woefully fatigued that I could not, upon her account, refuse to be of the party. He conducted us into a very neat little parlour, belonging to the master of the college, and Miss Planta flung herself on a chair, half dead with weariness.
Mr. Fairly was glad of the opportunity to sit for a moment also; for 'my part, I was quite alert. Alas! my dear Susan, 'tis my mind that is so weak, and so open to disorder;—my body, I really find, when it is an independent person, very strong, and capable of much exertion without suffering from it.
Mr. Fairly now produced, from a paper repository concealed in his coat pocket, some apricots and bread, and insisted upon my eating—but I was not inclined to the repast, and saw he was half famished himself—so was poor Miss Planta: however, he was so persuaded I must both be as hungry and as tired as himself, that I was forced to eat an apricot to appease him.
Presently, while we were in the midst of this regale, the door suddenly opened, and the queen came in!—followed by as many attendants as the room would contain. Up we all started, myself alone not discountenanced; for I really think it quite respect-sufficient never to sit down in the royal presence, without aiming at having it supposed I have stood bolt upright ever since I have been admitted to it. Quick into our pockets was crammed our bread, and close into our hands was squeezed our fruit; by which I discovered that our appetites were to be supposed annihilated, at the same time that our strength was to be invincible.
Very soon after this we were joined by the king, and in a few minutes we all paraded forth to the carriages, and drove back to Nuneham.
I have been very minute in this Oxford account, because it presented scenes so new to me, and because I concluded that, after you have had a month or two of general journal, you will have nothing more to be new to either of us.
This Oxford expedition was, altogether, highly entertaining to me; but I ought not to close it without telling you the sweetness of all the princesses, who each made a point of speaking to, Miss Planta and to me upon entering or quitting every college, as we stood in the ranks, while they passed.
I stayed in my own room till a message from the Miss Vernons brought me down to dinner; and from this time forward those ladies exerted themselves to the utmost in being attentive, sociable, and civil. I found the major, Mr. Fairly Mr. Hagget, Miss Planta, and themselves; and we had a very pleasant dinner, talking over the sights just seen. All the afternoon was spent in the same party. We went into Lord Harcourt's library to tea and coffee, and there we had short visits from his lordship and the Duchess of Ancaster.
In the evening Lady Harcourt came also, and was amazingly courteous. The queen then sent for the Miss Vernons into the drawing-room, and Miss Planta and myself left the gentlemen to take care of themselves, and retired for the evening to our own rooms.
You must know, wherever the king and queen are, nobody comes into their sight unsent for, not even the master and mistress of the house, unless they are publicly acquainted that their majesties are coming, and mean to see them.
Monday, Aug. 14.—I come now to introduce to you a new acquaintance.
I did not get down to breakfast till it was almost over, as I was detained with the queen, and as everybody was obliged to make what haste they could, in order to insure a meal before a summons. I found Miss Planta, and the aide-de-camp, vice chamberlain, and equerry; Lady Harcourt had already breakfasted with them, but made off as soon as the queen was visible, to wait upon her majesty. Miss Vernons lay in bed from yesterday's fatigues.
The extreme silence and gravity of the aide-de-camp threw a reserve and constraint on all the party, and we were all nearly dumb, when a new lady suddenly rushed into the room. This was Mrs. Harcourt, the aide-de-camp's wife, who had been ill the preceding day, and therefore had not ventured to Oxford. She is a showy, handsome woman, extremely talkative, with quick parts, high spirits, and a rattling vein of humour.
Miss Planta, who had taken Lady Harcourt's place, in order to pour out the tea, instantly moved to another. Mrs. Harcourt hurried into that just vacated, without ceremony, calling out, “How monstrous late you all are!—though I need not talk, for I hate getting up early. I was so vastly ill yesterday I could not stir, but I am vastly well to-day, so I am going to Blenheim.”
This day had been previously dedicated to seeing Blenheim.
“To Blenheim?” repeated General Harcourt, in a low voice.
“Yes, sir, to Blenheim! So no grave faces, for my plan is fixed.”
He half articulated a fear of her being ill again, but she stopped him with “O, no matter, leave that to the Fates;—the queen has been so gracious as to say I may go, and therefore go I shall: so say nothing about it, for that's settled and unalterable.”
“After being so ill yesterday,” said Mr. Fairly, “I think it will be rather too much for you.”
“Not at all!—and what's more, you must carry me.”
“I am very glad to hear it,” cried he, “if go you will.”
“Yes, that I will, certainly; and some of you must take me. I have no coach ordered,-and there is not one to spare: so, amongst you, you equerries, you must carry me. I have never been to Blenheim since I married.”
“Were you before?” said the general.
“Yes, sir, and you took me.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, sir, you had that honour; and I think you have never taken that trouble since.”
All this, though uttered in a voice as peremptory as the language, was spoken with very becoming smiles, and an air of saucy good humour.
The breakfast all this while had stood quite still: indeed there was nobody but myself that had not nearly done. Major Price handed me roll and butter and bread across the table, by way of hint, I believe; all which I declined: at last Mr. Fairly said,
“Miss Burney, which is your cup?”
Upon this, Mrs. Harcourt, abruptly turning to me, exclaimed “O dear, you've got no tea!” Then pouring out a dish of slop, added, “Can you drink it? It looks very melancholy.”
“No,” I said, “I have had enough.”
Have not you also, my Susan, had enough of this scene?
The Blenheim visit being considered as a private one, nobody went but of the Marlborough acquaintance: though in all royal parties, the whole company is always named by the royals, and the lords and ladies of the mansions have no more right to invite a guest than a guest has to come uninvited.
I spent this day very pleasantly, in walking over the grounds which are extremely pretty, seeing a flower-garden planned by Mr. Mason, and the pictures in the house. The two Miss Vernons, Miss Planta, and Mr. Hagget, were all that remained at Nuneham. And it was now I wholly made peace with those two ladies; especially the eldest, as I found her, the moment she was removed from rays so bright that they had dazzled her, a rational, composed, obliging woman. She took infinite and unwearied pains to make amends for the cold and strange opening of our acquaintance, by the most assiduous endeavours to give me pleasure and amusement. And she succeeded very well. I could blame nobody but the countess' sister for our reception; I plainly saw these ladies had been unprepared to look upon us as any charge to themselves.
The royal excursioners did not return till between six and seven o'clock, when we dined with the same party as the preceding day. The evening, too, had just the same visitors, and passed in just the same manner.