The Diary and Collected Letters of Madame D'Arblay, Frances Burney. Frances Burney
me, now, for I have seen him four or five times.”
General Conversation: Royalty Departs
After this, Mrs. Delany mentioned Madame de la Fite and her son.
The queen said, “He is a pretty little boy; and when he goes to school, it will do him good.”
“Where will she send him?” said the king.
The queen, looking at me, with a smile answered,
“To the school where Mr. Locke puts his sons. I know that!”
“And where is that?”
“Indeed I don’t know; where is it, Miss Burney?”
“At Cheam, ma’am.”
“Oh, at young Gilpin’s?” cried the king. “Is it near Mr. Locke’s?”
“Yes, sir; within about six miles, I believe.”
The queen, then, with a little arch smile, that seemed to premise she should make me stare, said,
“It was there, at Mr. Locke’s, your sister165 laid in?”
“O yes, ma’am!” cried I, out of breath with surprise.
The king repeated my “O yes!” and said, “I fancy—by that O—you were frightened a little for her? What?”
I could not but assent to that; and the king, who seemed a good deal diverted at the accident—for he loves little babies too well to look upon it, as most people would, to be a shocking business—questioned me about it.
“How was it?” said he,—“how happened it? Could not she get home?”
“It was so sudden, sir, and so unexpected, there was no time.”
“I dare say,” said the sweet queen, “Mrs. Locke was only very happy to have it at her house.”
“Indeed, ma’am,” cried I, “her kindness, and Mr. Locke’s would make anybody think so but they are all kindness and goodness.”
“I have heard indeed,” said the queen, “that they are all sensible, and amiable, and ingenuous, in that family.”
“They are indeed,” cried I, “and as exemplary as they are accomplished.”
“I have never seen Mrs. Locke,” said the king, “since she was that high;"—pointing to little Miss Dewes.
“And I,” said the queen “I have never seen her in my life; but for all that, from what I hear of her, I cannot help feeling interested whenever I only hear her name.”
This, with a good deal of animation, she said directly to me.
“Mr. William Locke, ma’am,” said Mrs. Delany, “I understand from Miss Burney, is now making the same wonderful progress in painting that he had done before in drawing.”
“I have seen some of his drawings,” said the queen, “which were charming.”
“How old is he?” cried the king.
“Eighteen, sir.”
“Eighteen!” repeated the king—“how time flies!”
“Oh! for me,” cried the queen, “I am always quarrelling with time! It is so short to do something, and so long to do nothing.”
She has now and then something foreign to our idiom, that has a very pretty effect.
“Time,” said the king, “always seems long when we are young, and short when we begin to grow old.”
“But nothing makes me so angry,” said the queen, “as to hear people not know what to do! For me, I never have half time enough to do things. But what makes me most angry still, is to see people go up to a window and say, ‘what a bad day!—dear, what shall we do such a day as this?’ ‘What?’ I say; ‘why, employ yourselves; and then what signifies the bad day?’”
Afterwards, there was some talk upon sermons, and the queen wished the Bishop of Chester would publish another volume.
“No, no,” said the king, “you must not expect a man, while he continues preaching, to go on publishing. Every sermon printed, diminishes his stock for the pulpit.”
“Very true,” said the queen, “but I believe the Bishop of Chester has enough to spare.”
The king then praised Carr’s sermons, and said he liked none but what were plain and unadorned.
“Nor I neither,” said the queen; “but for me, it is, I suppose, because the others I don’t understand.”
The king then, looking at his watch, said, “It is eight o’clock, and if we don’t go now, the children will be sent to the other house.”
“Yes, your majesty,” cried the queen, instantly rising.
Mrs. Delany put on her majesty’s cloak, and she took a very kind leave of her. She then curtsied separately to us all, and the king handed her to the carriage.
It is the custom for everybody they speak to to attend them out, but they would not suffer Mrs. Delany to move. Miss Port, Mr. Dewes, and his little daughter, and myself, all accompanied them, and saw them in their coach, and received their last gracious nods.
When they were gone, Mrs. Delany confessed she had heard the king’s knock at the door before she came into the drawing-room, but would not avow it, that I might not run away. Well! being over was so good a thing, that I could not but be content.
The queen, indeed, is a most charming woman. She appears to me full of sense and graciousness, mingled with delicacy of mind and liveliness of temper. She speaks English almost perfectly well, with great choice and copiousness of language, though now and then with foreign idiom, and frequently with a foreign accent. Her manners have an easy dignity, with a most engaging simplicity, and she has all that fine high breeding which the mind, not the station, gives, of carefully avoiding to distress those who converse with her, or studiously removing the embarrassment she cannot prevent.
The king, however he may have power, in the cabinet, to command himself, has, in private, the appearance of a character the most open and sincere. He speaks his opinions without reserve, and seems to trust them intuitively to his hearers, from a belief they will make no ill use of them. His countenance is full of inquiry, to gain information without asking it, probably from believing that to be the nearest road to truth. All I saw of both was the most perfect good humour, good spirits, ease, and pleasantness.
Their behaviour to each other speaks the most cordial confidence and happiness. The king seems to admire as much as he enjoys her conversation, and to covet her participation in everything he either sees or hears. The queen appears to feel the most grateful regard for him, and to make it her chief study to raise his consequence with others, by always marking that she considers herself, though queen to the nation, only to him, the first and most obedient of subjects. Indeed, in their different ways, and allowing for the difference of their characters, they left me equally charmed both with their behaviour to each other and to myself.
The King again: Tea Table Etiquette
Monday, Dec. 19—In the evening, while Mrs. Delany, Miss Port, and I were sitting and working together in the drawing-room, the door was opened, and the king entered.
We all started up; Miss Port flew to her modest post by the door, and I to my more comfortable one opposite the fire, which caused me but a slight and gentle retreat, and Mrs. Delany he immediately commanded to take her own place again.
He was full of joy for the Princess Elizabeth. He had been to the lower Lodge, and found her in a sweet sleep, and she was now, he said, in a course of James’s powders, from which