Fanny Burney at the court of Queen Charlotte

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Contents

CHAP. PAGE

I. FANNY BURNEY'S VISIT TO WINDSOR ... 3

II. A ROYAL APPOINTMENT 12

Chapter I

It was when staying with her aged friend Mrs. Delany at Windsor in December 1785 that Fanny Burney first saw the King and Queen.

Mrs. Delany had already interested the royal couple in favour of the authoress of Evelina and Cecilia, and on her guest arriving at her house she informed the shy and retiring Fanny that she was to be presented to their Majesties !

"I do beg of you," said Mrs. Delany, "when the Queen or the King speaks to you, not to answer with mere monosyllables. . . . The Queen says there is nothing she loves so much as conversation, and nothing she finds so hard to get. . . . Now as I know she wishes to be acquainted with you, and converse with you, I do really entreat you not to draw back from her, nor to stop conversation with only answering Yes or No."

"This was a most tremendous injunction," writes Fanny in her Diary; "however, I could not but promise her I would do the best I could. . . .

"In the midst of all this the Queen came !

" I heard the thunder at the door, and panicstruck, away flew all my resolutions and agreements, and away after them flew I ! I arrived at my own room ere I well knew I had left the drawing-room, quite breathless between the race and the joy of escaping."

Two days later we learn that a Mr. Bernard Dewes and his little girl had been dining at Mrs. Delany's, and that after dinner, the company having assembled in the drawing-room, Fanny was teaching the child some Christmas games, in which the others were joining.

" We were all in the middle of the room," she writes, "and in some confusion, and I was disentangling myself from Miss Dewes, to be ready to fly off if any one knocked at the street-door, when the door of the drawing-room was opened and a large man, in deep mourning, appeared at it, entering and shutting it himself without speaking.

" A ghost could not have scared me more when I discovered, by its glitter on the black, a star! The general disorder had prevented his being seen, except by myself, who was always on the

watch, till Miss P , turning to Mrs. Delany,

exclaimed, 'The King! aunt, the King!'

"... Every one scampered out of the way!

Miss P to stand next the door, Mr. Bernard

Dewes to a corner opposite it, his little girl clung to me, and Mrs. Delany advanced to meet his Majesty, who, after quietly looking on till she saw him, approached and inquired how she did.

" He then spoke to Mr. Bernard, whom he had already met two or three times here.

" I had now retreated to the wall and purposed gliding softly though speedily out of the room, but before I had taken a single step, the King, in a loud whisper to Mrs. Delany, said, ' Is that Miss Burney?' and on her answering 'Yes, sir,' he bowed, and with a countenance of the most perfect good humour, came close up to me.

" A most profound reverence on my part arrested the progress of my retreat.

" ' How long have you been come back, Miss Burney ?'

" ' Two days, sir.'

"... He made a little civil inclination of the head and went back to Mrs. Delany.

" He insisted that she should sit down, though he stood himself, and began to give her an account of the Princess Elizabeth, who was recovering from a severe illness and trying at present James's Powders. She had been blooded, he said, twelve times in the last fortnight, and had lost seventy-five ounces of blood, besides under-

S going blistering and other discipline. He spoke of her illness with the strongest emotion.

"... When the discourse upon health was over, the King went up to the table and looked at a book of prints, from Claude Lorraine, which had been brought down for Miss Dewes, but Mrs. Delany, by mistake, told him they were for me. He turned over a leaf or two, and then said —

" ' Pray, does Miss Burney draw too ? '

" The too was pronounced very civilly.

"'I believe not, sir,' answered Mrs. Delany ; ' at least, she does not tell.'

"'Oh!' cried he, laughing, 'that's nothing! She is not apt to tell ; she never does tell, you know. Her father told me the whole history of her Evelina.' And I shall never forget his face when he spoke of his feelings at first taking up the book ! — he looked quite frightened, just as if he was doing it that moment ! I never can forget his face while I live !

" Then, coming up close to me, he said —

" ' But what ? — what ? — how was it ? '

" ' Sir,' cried I, not well understanding him.

" ' How came you — how happened it ? — what ? —what ? '

" ' I — I only wrote, sir, for my own amusement — only in some odd, idle hours.'

" ' But your publishing — your printing — how was that ? '

" ' That was only, sir, only because '

" I hesitated most abominably, not knowing how to tell him a long story, and growing terribly confused at these questions ; besides, to say the truth, his own 'what? what?' so reminded me of those vile Probationary Odes that, in the midst of my flutter, I was really hardly able to keep my countenance.

" The What ! was then repeated with so earnest a look that, forced to say something, I stammeringly answered —

"'I thought — sir — it would look well in print ! '

"I do really flatter myself this is the silliest speech I ever made ! ... He laughed very heartily — well he might — and walked away to enjoy it, crying out —

" ' Very fair, indeed ! that's being very fair and honest ! ' "

The Probationary Odes alluded to, as the reader may remember, were clever skits upon various poets of the day who are supposed to be competing for the vacant Laureateship. One of these poets, a certain Major Scott, is describing a visit to Court, where he finds the heat of the Royal apartments somewhat oppressive. He exclaims —

" Methinks I hear, In accents clear, Great Brunswick's voice still vibrate on my ear — 7

' What ?— what ? — what ?

Scott !— Scott ! — Scott !

Hot ! — hot !— hot !

What ?— what ?— what ? ' "

Miss Burney's odd kind of cross-examination on the part of the King was soon resumed, and it continued until a second thundering knock at the hall door announced the advent of the Queen.

Once more Fanny was thrown into a state of perturbation, but the ceremonious curtsey was accomplished in spite of nervousness, and she soon found, to her relief, that her Majesty was both gracious and kindly in manner, and that her conversation was of a much less bewildering order than that of the King.

There is a merry letter from Fanny to her sister Hetty (preserved among the Burney MSS.) in which she gives a mock heroic account of this first interview with the King and Queen. It is dated Dec. 27th, 1785. "So your curiosity is raised," she writes, " to have an account of my proceedings ? Well, I will satisfy it this once. ... I have had a Royal Interview.

" ' O ! tell me how it was ? ' you cry ; ' tell me who you saw ? and how you saw them ? and what they said, and what you did ? and whether you fainted ? or cried ? or screamed ? or what ? '

" Patience, patience, my dear child ; you must know I considered a good while which of those three steps to take ; and my first thought was to faint away, as that was the thing that had always appeared to me the most delicate and interesting upon all tender occasions. But . . . notwithstanding I had resolved upon this plan, I could not put it in execution ! . . . Though the moment I stood before the King, I said to myself, 'This is the time now I'll swoon!' I could not do it ! . . . Instead of dropping down, I stood as bolt upright as ever you saw me in your life!

"... So I changed my purpose, and took a private resolution to only burst into tears. . . . But at the very instant I was preparing myself for being seized with as affecting a blubbering as ever you saw in your life, I was taken as if in downright opposition with an inclination to simper!

"... So I determined to content myself with having recourse to my voice, and uttering a violent scream ! [but] my voice suddenly played me false !

"If these misfortunes do not move your compassion, I shall conclude I have not a refractory part about me more hard-hearted than yourself."

To return to Fanny's Diary. Writing on Dec. 19th, she says: "In the evening while Mrs.

Delany, Miss P , and I were sitting and working together in the drawing-room, the door opened, and the King entered.

". . . I should mention," she adds, "the etiquette always observed upon his entrance, which, first of all, is to fly off to distant quarters [of the room] ; and next Miss P goes out, walking backwards, for more candles, which she brings in, two at a time, and places upon the tables and pianoforte. Next she goes out for tea, which she then carries to his Majesty upon a large salver, containing sugar, cream, and bread and butter and cake, while she hangs a napkin over her arm for his fingers. . . .

" This, it seems, is a ceremony performed in other places, always by the mistress of the house, but here neither of their Majesties will permit Mrs. Delany to attempt it."

After describing the King's good-natured chat upon various topics, Miss Burney says that the subject of acting and actors was touched upon, when the King, in naming Mrs. Siddons, exclaimed —

" ' I am an enthusiast for her, quite an enthusiast. I think there was never any player in my time so excellent — not even Garrick himself; I own it ! '

" Then coming close to me, who was silent, he said : ' What ? what ? ' meaning what say you ? But I still said nothing ; I could not concur where

I thought so differently, and to enter into an argument was quite impossible."

Fanny's enthusiastic admiration for Garrick, both as the marvellous actor and also as the beloved friend of her family, caused her thus courageously to withhold acquiescence in his Majesty's opinion.

" From players the King went to plays," continues the writer, " till at last he came to Shakespeare.

"'Was there ever,' cried he, 'such stuff as great part of Shakespeare? — only, one must not say so! But what think you? What? Is his not sad stuff? What ? What ? '

"'Yes, indeed! I think so, sir, though mixed with such excellence that '

" ' Oh ! ' cried he, laughing good-humouredly, ' I know it is not to be said ! but it's true. Only it's Shakespeare, and nobody dare abuse him.'

" Then he enumerated many of the characters and parts of plays that he objected to ; and when he had run them over, finished with again laughing and exclaiming —

" ' But we should be stoned for saying so ! ' "

Chapter II

Fanny records, during her visit to Mrs. Delany, a long conversation with the Queen upon literary subjects. Her Majesty's gentle and easy manner on this occasion had banished her companion's wonted timidity, and Fanny had both listened and talked with pleasure.

It is evident that the Queen was becoming much interested in the author of Evelina and Cecilia, and her interest was manifested before long in an unexpected way, namely, by the offer to Miss Burney of a post at Court. This occurred in the month of June 1786. The post, which had recently become vacant, was that of Second Keeper of the Robes, and necessitated immediate attendance on the Queen's person. It was an appointment held in high estimation by ladies of rank and fashion, and was much sought after ; but in this instance Queen Charlotte had waived the ordinary etiquette of precedence, and had followed her own inclination in the matter. When speaking on the subject to Mrs. Delany she remarked : " I was led to think of Miss Burney first by her books — then by seeing her — and then by always hearing how she was loved by her friends — but chiefly, and over all, by your regard for her!"

The Queen's offer was hailed with joy by most of Fanny's relatives and friends, but in the midst of the general jubilee Fanny herself was silent and full of fears. She writes to her intimate friend, Miss Cambridge : " I cannot, even to my father, utter my reluctance ; I see him so much delighted at the prospect of an establishment he looks upon as so honourable. ... It is not from nervousness. I have always and uniformly had a horror of a life of attendance and dependence."

The person commissioned by the Queen to convey the offer of the post to Miss Burney was a Mr. Smelt, a member of the Royal Household and a friend of the Burney family, and it is probable that a remark of his did much to influence Fanny's final decision to accept the offer. "In such a situation," he had said, "so respectfully offered, not solicited, you may have opportunities of serving your particular friends — • especially your father — such as scarce any other could afford you."

As soon as the matter was settled, Fanny 13 wrote to her sister Charlotte (now Mrs. Clement Francis) : " 'Tis a place of being constantly about the Queen's own person, and assisting in her toilette — a place of much confidence and many comforts ; apartments in the palace ; a footman kept for me ; a coach in common with Mrs. Schwellenberg (the Senior Keeper of the Robes), 200 a year, &c.

" Everybody so violently congratulates me that it seems as if all was gain. However, I am glad they are all so pleased. My dear father is in raptures ; that is my first comfort. Write to wish him joy, my Charlotte, without a hint to him, or any one but Susan, of my internal reluctance and fears."

Horace Walpole, writing to Dr. Burney on the subject, says —

" You cannot imagine, dear sir, how I rejoice for her sake and yours in the preferment of Miss Burney, which, indeed, is a very generous proceeding on my side, as I fear she will now not

stoop —

' . . . from the stately brow Of Windsor heights to th' expanse below ! '

and condescend to visit the veteran of Strawberry Hill, tho' he were as well preserved as the Newspapers flatter him he is."

After going on to wish Miss Burney as long and as honourable a life in her high station as that of his cousin, Mrs. Delany, he remarks : " This is still more generous than my former generosity, since I cannot possibly live to be witness to the whole career of her triumphs as I was to her brilliant dawn."

Hannah More writes to a friend : " I was in the very joy of my heart on seeing the other day in the papers that our charming Miss Burney has got an establishment so near the Queen. How I love the Queen for having so wisely chosen ! "

And Arthur Young, the old and tried family friend, writes —

" My dear Fanny, — You well know my ' lackluster ' eyes to be dim as an Owl's, yet be assured I have pierced into every News-Paper that came in my way with the glance of an Eagle to discry a certain name always dear to me, in a point of elevation that gives me very great pleasure. I now venture to join the voice of congratulation with equal sincerity, though with less elegance, than you are accustomed to hear or read. . . .

" Everybody I see expresses joy at your good fortune."

In the midst of her preparations for the new life, Fanny writes to her sister Charlotte —

" You may believe how much I am busied. ... I am now fitting out just as you were, and all the maids and workers suppose I am going to be married, and snigger every time they bring in any of my new attire. I do not care to publish the affair till it is made known by authority ; so I leave them to their conjectures, and I fancy their greatest wonder is, who and where is the sposo; for they must think it odd he should never appear ! "

Among Mrs. Delany's published letters there is one on the subject of Fanny's appointment. It is dated July 5th of this same year.

" An event has taken place lately," she writes to a friend, " which gives me great satisfaction. I am sure you are acquainted with the novel entitled Cecilia, much admired for its good sense, variety of character, delicacy of sentiment, &c, &c. There is nothing good, and amiable, and agreeable mentioned in the book that is not possessed by the author of it, Miss Burney. I have been acquainted with her now three years. Her extreme diffidence of herself, notwithstanding her great genius, and the applause she has met with, adds lustre to all her excellences, and all improve on acquaintance. . . . One of the principal ladies that attend the Queen's person as dresser [Mrs. Haggerdorn] is going to retire into her own country, being in too bad a state of health to continue her honourable and delightful employment, for such it must be near such a Queen ; and Miss Burney is to be the happy successor, chosen by the Queen without any particular recommendation from anybody. I believe she comes into waiting next week."

It was on the 17th July that Fanny entered

ENTRANCE TO THE QUEEN'S LODGE

upon her new career. She was accompanied to Windsor by her father and her kind friend, Mrs. Ord. The party alighted at Mrs. Delany's house, and on Fanny's receiving an intimation that the Queen was ready to receive her, she and her father proceeded on foot to the Queen's Lodge. " My dear father's own courage," she writes, " all failed him in this little step ; . . . for as now all was to be given up, I could disguise my trepidation no longer — indeed, I never had disguised, I had only forborne proclaiming it. . . . I heard in his kind voice that he was now really alarmed. . . .

"The Queen was in her dressing-room; Mrs. Schwellenberg was standing behind her ; nobody else present. She received me with a most gracious bow of the head, and a smile that was all sweetness. She saw me much agitated, and attributed it, no doubt, to the awe of her presence. O, she little knew my mind had no room in it for feelings of that sort ! "

However, the Queen's gracious and tactful reception, and her kindly talk about her new Dresser's own personal interests, somewhat restored Fanny to composure, and she left the presence " with sensations much softened."

There is a letter (preserved among the Burney MSS.) written just two days after her arrival at Windsor. It is addressed jointly to her sister Susan (Mrs. Molesworth Phillips) and to her intimate friend, Mrs. Lock, of Norbury Park, her " beloved Fredy," who were neighbours in Surrey, and is endorsed in later years by the writer : " F. B.'s first letter from Windsor Lodge after a Heart-rending Separation from the loved Friends with whom she was no longer to Live."

That letter lies before us. The ink has turned brown with age, but the writing is legible, though not as firm as usual ; while several blots (which rarely appear in Fanny's epistles) seem to betray the writer's emotion.

". . . The Blow was struck on Monday," she writes, "and hard it struck, and almost felled me, but I have been gradually recovering from it ever since, and am now almost risen up again. My Susan ! my Fredy ! it is over, and I must now make myself as happy as I can, and have done, if possible, with regrets.

" Indeed, all is far better than I could have expected or supposed.

"... Heaven bless you both! my sweetest and most loved Susan and Fredy ! My revived spirits sink again as I write these heart-dear names.

" / will have done?

Before parting from her father, Fanny was able to give him comfort. " I omitted nothing I could think of," she writes, "to remove the uneasiness that this day seemed first to awaken in him. Thank God ! I had the fullest success ; his hopes and gay expectations were all within call, and they ran back at the first bidding.

" Left to myself," she adds, " I did not dare stop to think, nor look round upon my new abode, nor consider for how long I was taking possession. I rang for my new maid, and immediately dressed for dinner."

Chapter III

When Fanny Burney took up her residence at Windsor as a member of her Majesty's Household, it was in the Queen's or Upper Lodge that her rooms were situated. The Royal Family in those days were unable to live in the Castle on account of its dilapidated condition, though its state-rooms were still used for audiences and concerts.

The Queen's Lodge was a large building standing on the south-east side of the Castle. In it lived the King, the Queen, and the two elder Princesses, together with all their female attendants, while within its grounds stood the Lower Lodge, occupied by the younger members of the Royal Family and their governesses.

" My Windsor apartment," writes Fanny, " is extremely comfortable. I have a large drawing-room, as they call it, which is on the ground floor, as are all the Queen's rooms, and which faces the Castle and the venerable Round Tower, and opens at the further side from the windows to the Little Park. It is airy, pleasant, clean, and healthy." And Dr. Burney, describing the same apartment, says : " Her sitting-room, which is large and pleasant, is upon the lawn before the Lodge, and has in full view . . . the walk that leads to the terrace, which, of course, is gay and thronged with company."

"My bedroom is small," continues Fanny, " but neat and comfortable ; its entrance is only from the drawing-room, and it looks to the garden. These two rooms are delightfully independent of all the rest of the house, and contain everything I can' desire for my convenience and comfort."

She had soon " received visits and civilities from the whole female household resident at Windsor." " The Princesses, every one of the lovely six," writes Dr. Burney, " come occasionally upon various pretences to her apartment, with a sweetness of speech and manner that seem almost eager, to show her favour."

Miss Burney thus describes the daily duties of her new position.

" I rise at six o'clock," she writes, " dress in a morning gown and cap, and wait for my first summons, which is at all times from seven to near eight, but commonly in the exact half-hour between them.

"The Queen never sends for me till her hair is dressed. This in a morning is always done by her wardrobe woman, Mrs. Thielky, a German, but who speaks English perfectly well. ... No maid ever enters the room while the Queen is in it. Mrs. Thielky hands the things to me, and I put them on. 'Tis fortunate for me that I have not the handing them ! I should never know which to take first, embarrassed as I am, and should run a prodigious risk of giving the gown before the hoop, and the fan before the neck-kerchief.

"By eight o'clock, or a little after, for she is extremely expeditious, she is dressed. She then goes out to join the King, and be joined by the Princesses, and they all proceed to the King's Chapel in the Castle, to prayers, attended by the governesses of the Princesses and the King's equerry. . . .

" I then return to my own room to breakfast. I make this meal the most pleasant part of the day. I have a book for my companion, and I allow myself an hour for it. My present book is Gilpin's description of the Lakes of Cumberland and Westmorland. It is the most picturesque reading I ever met with ; it shows me landscapes of every sort, with tints so bright and lively, I forget I am but reading, and fancy I see them before me, coloured by the hand of Nature.

" At nine o'clock I send off my breakfast things and relinquish my book, to make a serious examination of everything I have upon my hands in the way of business ; in which preparations for dress are always included, not for the present day alone, but for the Court days, which require a particular dress ; for the next arriving birthday of any of the Royal Family, every one of which requires new apparel ; for Kew, where the dress is plainest ; and for going on here, where 1 the dress is very pleasant to me, requiring no show nor finery, but merely to be neat, not inelegant, and moderately fashionable.'

" That over, I have my time at my own disposal till a quarter before twelve [or sometimes] a quarter before eleven. . . .

" A: quarter before one is the usual time for the Queen to begin dressing for the day. Mrs. Schwellenberg then constantly attends, so do I. Mrs. Thielky, of course, at all times* We ;help her off with her gown, and on with her powdering things, and then the hairdresser is admitted.! She generally reads the newspaper during that operation.

" On his departing, the dressing is resumed, and soon finished. She then says she won't detain me, and I hear and see no more of her till bedtime.

" It is commonly three o'clock when I am thus 24 set at large, and I have then two hours quite at my own disposal. ... At five we have dinner ; Mrs. Schwellenberg and I meet in the eating-room. We are commonly tite-a-tete. . . . 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."

The " terracing " refers to King George's well-known custom of walking with his family in procession each evening, when the weather was fine, up and down the Castle Terrace to the gay sounds of a band of music.

The King would walk first with the Queen leaning upon his arm, followed by the youthful Princesses, and their attendants bringing up the rear. The public, who gathered eagerly on these occasions to witness the sight, were honoured sometimes by a friendly nod or a gracious curtsey, while the musicians received from the King upon his retiring a profound bow with the words, " Thank you, gentlemen."

Tea was served for the Keepers of the Robes in the dining or eating-room, as it was usually called.

" I find," writes Fanny, " that it has always belonged to Mrs. Schwellenberg and Mrs. Haggerdorn to receive at tea whatever company the King or Queen invite to the Lodge, as it is only

2 5 a very select few that can eat with their Majesties, and those few are only ladies ; no men, of what rank soever, being permitted to sit in the Queen's presence.

" The Equerry [in chief], whoever he is, comes to tea constantly, and, tea over, he conducts [the guests] 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. . . . Twenty minutes is the customary time spent with the Queen ; half-anhour, 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."