The Diary and Collected Letters of Madame D'Arblay, Frances Burney. Frances Burney
might last, have made me waste moment after moment as sadly as unprofitably.
At five, we have dinner. Mrs. Schwellenberg and I meet in the eating-room. We are commonly tête-à-tête: when there is anybody added, it is from her invitation only. Whatever right my place might afford me of also inviting my friends to the table I have now totally lost, by want of courage and spirits to claim it originally.
When we have dined, we go upstairs to her apartment, which is directly over mine. Here we have coffee till the “terracing” is over: this is at about eight o’clock. Our tête-à-tête then finishes, and we come down again to the eating-room. There the equerry, whoever he is, comes to tea constantly, and with him any gentleman that the king or queen may have invited for the evening; and when tea is over, he conducts them, and goes himself, to the concert-room. This is commonly about nine o’clock.
From that time, if Mrs. Schwellenberg is alone, I never quit her for a minute, till I come to my little supper at near eleven. Between eleven and twelve my last summons usually takes place, earlier and later occasionally. Twenty minutes is the customary time then spent with the queen: half an hour, I believe, is seldom exceeded.
I then come back, and after doing whatever I can to forward my dress for the next morning, I go to bed-and to sleep, too, believe me: the early rising, and a long day’s attention to new affairs and occupations, cause a fatigue so bodily, that nothing mental stands against it, and to sleep I fall the moment I have put out my candle and laid down my head.
Such is the day to your F. B. in her new situation at Windsor; such, I mean, is its usual destination, and its intended course. I make it take now and then another channel, but never stray far enough not to return to the original stream after a little meandering about and about it.
I think now you will be able to see and to follow me pretty closely.
With regard to those summonses I speak of, I will now explain myself. My summons, upon all regular occasions—that is, morning, noon, and night toilets—is neither more nor less than a bell. Upon extra occasions a page is commonly sent. At first, I felt inexpressibly discomfited by this mode of call. A bell!—it seemed so mortifying a mark of servitude, I always felt myself blush, though alone, with conscious shame at my own strange degradation. But I have philosophized myself now into some reconcilement with this manner of summons, by reflecting that to have some person always sent would be often very inconvenient, and that this method is certainly less an interruption to any occupation I may be employed in, than the entrance of messengers so many times in the day. It is, besides, less liable to mistakes. So I have made up my mind to it as well as I can; and now I only feel that proud blush when somebody is by to revive my original dislike of it.
The Princess Royal
Tuesday, July 25.—I now begin my second week, with a scene a little, not much, different. We were now to go to Kew, there to remain till Friday.
I had this morning, early, for the first time, a little visit from one of the princesses. I was preparing for my journey, when a little rap at my room-door made me call out “Come in,” and who should enter but the princess royal!
I apologised for my familiar admittance, by my little expectation of such an honour. She told me she had brought the queen’s snuff-box, to be filled with some snuff which I had been directed to prepare. It is a very fine-scented and mild snuff, but requires being moistened from time to time, to revive its smell. The princess, with a very sweet smile, insisted upon holding the box while I filled it; and told me she had seen Mrs. Delany at the chapel, and that she was very well; and then she talked on about her, with a visible pleasure in having a subject so interesting to me to open upon.
When the little commission was executed, she took her leave with an elegant civility of manner as if parting with another king’s daughter. I am quite charmed with the princess royal unaffected condescension and native dignity are so happily blended in her whole deportment.
She had left me but a short time before she again returned. “Miss Burney,” cried she, smiling with a look of congratulation, “Mamma says the snuff is extremely well mixed; and she has sent another box to be filled.”
I had no more ready. She begged me not to mind, and not to hurry myself, for she would wait till it was done.
The Court at Kew: a Three Year Old Princess
Mrs. Schwellenberg, Miss Planta, and myself travelled to Kew together. I have two rooms there; both small, and up two pair of stairs; but tidy and comfortable enough. Indeed all the apartments but the king’s and queen’s, and one of Mrs. Schwellenberg’s, are small, dark, and old-fashioned. There are staircases in every passage, and passages to every closet. I lost myself continually, only in passing from my own room to the queen’s. Just as I got upstairs, shown the way first by Miss Planta, I heard the king’s voice. I slipped into my room; but he saw me, and following, said,
“What! is Miss Burney taking possession?”
And then he walked round the room, as if to see if it were comfortable for me, and smiling very good-humouredly, walked out again. A surveyor was with him,—I believe he is giving orders for some alterations and additions. . . .
When I went to the queen before dinner, the little Princess Amelia was with her; and, though shy of me at first, we afterwards made a very pleasant acquaintance. She is a most lovely little thing, just three years old, and full of sense, spirit, and playful prettiness: yet decorous and dignified when called upon to appear en princesse to any strangers, as if conscious of her high rank, and of the importance of condescendingly sustaining it. ’Tis amazing what education can do, in the earliest years, to those of quick understandings.174 This little princess, thus in infancy, by practice and example, taught her own consequence, conducts herself, upon all proper occasions, with an air of dignity that is quite astonishing, though her natural character seems all sport and humour.
When we became a little acquainted, the queen desired me to take her by the hand, and carry her downstairs to the king, who was waiting for her in the garden. She trusted herself to me with a grave and examining look, and shewed me, for I knew it not, the way. The king, who dotes upon her, seemed good-humouredly pleased to see me bring her. He took her little hand and led her away.
A Drawing-room at St. James’s
Thursday, July 27—This being a Court-day, we went to town. The queen dresses her head at Kew, and puts on her Drawing-room apparel at St. James’s. Her new attendant dresses all at Kew, except tippet and long ruffles, which she carries in paper, to save from dusty roads. I forgot to tell you, I believe, that at St. James’s I can never appear, even though I have nothing to do with the Drawing-room, except in a sacque: ’tis the etiquette of my place.
Mrs. Schwellenberg, Miss Planta, and myself went about an hour before the king and queen. Mrs. Schwellenberg went to the queen’s dressing-room to give orders about the dress, Miss Planta went to the princesses’ room for the same purpose, and I was shewn to mine for no purpose.
Mine are two small rooms, newly and handsomely furnished, one of which has a view of the park, over the stable-yard, and the other only of the passage to the park from St. James’s-street. I had now the great satisfaction to find that there was a private staircase, from that same passage, that leads straight up to my apartments, and also that I may appoint any friend to meet me in them on the court-days. I hope never to be there again without making use of this privilege.
Having now neither companion nor book, I sent John, who came with me to town, to borrow some writing implements of one of the pages, and I employed myself in answering some letters, till the queen arrived, and I was summoned, by Mrs. Leverick, the town wardrobe woman, to the dressing-room. There the queen put on her court dress, and as soon as she was attired sent for the princesses royal and Augusta, who came to attend her to the Drawing-room.
Mr. Nicolay, the page in waiting, then came to beg a little audience for the Duchess of Aancaster.