The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay
Chapter 69 : I had no more ready. She begged me not to mind, and not to hurry myself, for she would

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-fas.h.i.+oned. There are staircases in every pa.s.sage, and pa.s.sages to every closet. I lost myself continually, only in pa.s.sing 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.[205] 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 astonis.h.i.+ng, 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 pa.s.sage 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 pa.s.sage, 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 d.u.c.h.ess of Aancaster.... The queen went to her in the ante-room---The moment I was left with the princesses, they both came up to me, and began conversing in the most easy, unaffected, cheerful, and obliging manner that can be conceived.

When the queen returned, the bell was rung for the bedchamber woman; the etiquette of court-days requiring that one of them should finish her dress.

It happened now to be my acquaintance, Mrs. Fielding. She only tied on the necklace, and handed the fan and gloves. The queen then leaves the dressing-room, her train being carried by the bedchamber woman. The princesses follow. She goes to the ante-room, where she sends for the lady of the bedchamber in waiting, who then becomes the first train-bearer, and they all proceed to the Drawing-room.

We returned to Kew to dinner, very late.

ABSENCE OF STATE AT KEW.

_Friday, July 28._--The Kew life, you will perceive, is different from the Windsor. As there are no early prayers, the queen rises later; and as there is no form or ceremony here of any sort, her dress is plain, and the hour for the second toilette extremely uncertain. The royal family are here always in so very retired a way, that they live as the simplest country gentlefolks. The king has not even an equerry with him, nor the queen any lady to attend her when she goes her airings.

Miss Planta belongs here to our table; so does anybody that comes, as there is no other kept. There is no excuse for parting after dinner, and therefore I live unremittingly with Mrs. Schwellenberg after the morning.

It is a still greater difficulty to see company here than at Windsor, for as my apartments are upstairs, there is a greater danger of encountering some of the royal family; and I find all the household are more delicate in inviting or admitting any friends here than elsewhere, on account of the very easy and unreserved way in which the family live, running about from one end of the house to the other, without precaution or care.

MISS BURNEY'S FIRST EVENING OUT

_Windsor, July 28._--To-day I made my first evening visit, and for the first time failed Mrs. Schwellenberg's tea-table entirely. You will be surprised to hear for whom I took this effort--Lady Effingham! But I found from Mrs. Delany she had been a little hurt by the pa.s.sage-scene, and seemed to think I meant to avoid her future visits and civilities.

Mrs. Delany, therefore, advised me to go to Stoke, her country-seat, by way of apologizing, and to request the queen's permission, Promising to carry me herself.

I never hesitate where she counsels. I thought it, too, a good opportunity of trying my length of liberty, as Lady Effingham is one of the ladies of the bedchamber, and is frequently at the Lodge as a private visitor.

It was inexpressibly awkward to me to ask leave to go out, and awkwardly enough I believe I did it, only saying that if her majesty had no objection, Mrs. Delany would carry me in the evening to Stoke. She smiled immediate approbation, and nothing more pa.s.sed.

I had then to tell my intention to Mrs. Schwellenberg who was, I believe, a little surprised. Fortunately, Major Price came upstairs to coffee. A little surprised, too, I am sure, was Major Price, when I made off for the whole evening. Everybody had taken it for granted I must necessarily pursue the footsteps of Mrs. Haggerdorn, and never stir out. But, thank G.o.d, I am not in the same situation; she had no connections--I have such as no one, I believe, ever had before.

The evening was rainy; but, my leave asked and obtained, my kind Mrs.

Delany would not defer the excursion. Stoke is about three miles off.

We were received in the civilest manner possible by Lady Effingham, and Sir George Howard and Lady Frances. There were also several of their relations with them. Lady Effingham seems a mighty good-humoured, friendly woman. Sir George is pompous, yet he, too, is as good-humoured in his manners as his Lady.

CASUAL CALLERS TO BE KEPT OFF: A NEW ARRIVAL.

_July 31._--I had a very pleasant visit from Mrs. Hastings[206] this morning, whose gay good-humour is very enlivening: but she detained me from my dress, and I was not ready for the queen; and I have now adopted the measure of stationing John in the gallery while I am at that n.o.ble occupation, and making him keep off all callers, by telling them I am dressing for the queen. I have no other way; and being too late, or even the fear of being too late, makes me nervous and ill.

Every little failure of this sort, though always from causes unknown to her majesty, she has borne without even a look of surprise or of gravity; though she never waits an instant, for if Mrs. Schwellenberg is not with her, she employs Mrs. Thielky, or goes on with her dress or her undress without either.

This graciousness, however, makes me but the more earnest to grow punctual; especially as I am now always employed, when present and in time.

I went in the afternoon to Mrs. de Luc. When I returned here, to the conclusion of the tea-drinking, I found a new gentleman, dressed in the king's Windsor uniform--which is blue and gold, turned up with red, and worn by all the men who belong to his majesty, and come into his presence at Windsor.

Major Price immediately presented us to each other. It was General Bude: what his post may be I have not yet learned, but he is continually, I am told, at Windsor, and always resides in this Lodge, and eats with the equerries.

I do not quite know what to say of General Bude; except that his person is tall and showy, and his manners and appearance are fas.h.i.+onable. But he has a sneer in his smile that looks sarcastic, and a distance in his manner that seems haughty.

THE ROYAL PRINCESSES.

_Wednesday, 2._--This morning, for the first time, I made a little sort of acquaintance with the two younger princesses. I was coming from the queen's room, very early, when I met the Princess Mary, just arrived from the lower Lodge: she was capering upstairs to her elder sisters, but instantly stopped at sight of me, and then coming up to me, inquired how I did, with all the elegant composure of a woman of maturest age.