The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay Volume I Part 30

We found such a crowd of chairs and carriages we could hardly make our way. I had never seen any of the family, consisting of Sir J. and three daughters, but had been particularly invited. The two rooms for the company were quite full when we arrived, and a large party was standing upon the first floor landing-place.

Just as I got up stairs, I was much surprised to hear my name called by a man's voice, who stood in the crowd upon the landing-place, and who said,

"Miss Burney, better go up another flight (pointing up stairs)--if you'll take my advice, you'll go up another flight, for there's no room anywhere else."

I then recollected the voice, for I could not see the face, of Lord Mulgrave, and I began at first to suppose I must really do as he said, for there seemed not room for a sparrow, and I have heard the Sharp family do actually send their company all over their house when they give concerts. However, by degrees we squeezed ourselves into the outer room, and then Mrs. Lambart made way up to me, to introduce me to Miss C--, who is extremely handsome, genteel, and pleasing, though tonish, and who did the honours, in spite of the crowd, in a manner to satisfy everybody.

After that, she herself introduced me to her next sister, Arabella, who is very fat, but not ugly. As to Sir J., He was seated behind a door in the music-room, where, being lame, he was obliged to keep still, and I never once saw his face, though I was upon the point of falling over him; for, at one time, as I had squeezed just into the music-room, and was leaning against the door, which was open, and which Lord Althorp, the d.u.c.h.ess of Devonshire's brother, was also lolling against, the pressure pushed Sir James's chair, and the door beginning to move, I thought we should have fallen backwards. Lord Althorp moved off instantly, and I started forwards without making any disturbance, and then Mr. Travell came to a.s.sure me all was safe behind the door, and so the matter rested quietly, though not without giving me a ridiculous fright.

Mr. Travell, ma'am, if I have not yet introduced him to you, I must tell you--'is known throughout Bath by the name of Beau Travell; he is a most approved connoisseur in beauty, gives the ton to all the world, sets up young ladies in the beau monde, and is the sovereign arbitrator of fashions, and decider of fashionable people. I had never the honour of being addressed by him before, though I have met him at the dean's and at Mrs. Lainbart's. So you may believe I was properly struck.

Though the rooms were so crowded, I saw but two faces I knew--Lord Huntingdon, whom I have drank tea with at Mrs. Cholmley's.[124] and Miss Philips; but the rest were all showy tonish people, who are only to be seen by going to the rooms, which we never do.

Some time after, Lord Mulgrave crowded in among us, and cried out to me,

"So you would not take my advice!"

I told him he had really alarmed me, for I had taken him seriously.

He laughed at the notion of sending me up to the garrets, and then poked himself into the concert-room.

Oh, but I forgot to mention Dr. Harrington, with whom I 'had much conversation, and who was dry, comical, and very agreeable. I also saw Mr. Henry, but as Miss L-- was not present, nothing ensued.[125]

Miss C-- herself brought me a cup of ice, the room being crowded that the man could not get near me. How ridiculous to invite so many more people than could be accommodated! Lord Mulgrave was soon sick of the heat, and finding me distressed what to do with my cup, he very good--naturedly took it from me, but carried not only that, but himself also, away, which I did not equally rejoice at.

You may laugh, perhaps, that I have all this time said never a word of the music, but the truth is I heard scarce a note. There were quartettos and overtures by gentlemen performers whose names and faces I know not, and such was the never ceasing rattling and noise in the card-room, where I was kept almost all the evening, that a general humming of musical sounds, and now and then a tw.a.n.g, was all I could hear.

Nothing can well be more ridiculous than a concert of this sort; and Dr.

Harrington told me that the confusion amongst the musicians was equal to that amongst the company; for that, when called upon to open the concert, they found no music. The Miss C--'s had prepared nothing, nor yet solicited their dilettante's to prepare for them. Miss Harrington, his daughter, who played upon the harpsichord, and by the very little I could sometimes hear, I believe very well, complained that she had never touched so vile an instrument, and that she was quite disturbed at being obliged to play upon it.

About the time that I got against the door, as I have mentioned, of the music room, the young ladies were preparing to perform, and with the a.s.sistance of Mr. Henry, they sang catches. Oh, such singing! worse squalling, more out of tune, and more execrable in every respect, never did I hear. We did not get away till late.

A BATH ALDERMAN'S RAREE SHOW.

_Sunday_.--We had an excellent sermon from the Bishop of Peterborough, who preached merely at the request of Mrs. Thrale.

At dinner we had the bishop and Dr. Harrington; and the bishop, who was in very high spirits, proposed a frolic, which was, that we should all go to Spring Gardens, where he should give us tea, and thence proceed to Mr. Ferry's, to see a very curious house and garden. Mrs. Thrale pleaded that she had invited company to tea at home, but the bishop said we would go early, and should return in time, and was so gaily authoritative that he gained his point. He had been so long accustomed to command, as master of Westminster school, that he cannot prevail with himself, I believe, ever to be overcome.

Dr. Harrington was engaged to a patient, and could not be of our party.

But the three Thrales, the bishop and I, pursued our scheme, crossed the Avon, had a sweet walk through the meadows, and drank tea at Spring Gardens, where the bishop did the honours with a spirit, a gaiety, and an activity that jovialised us all, and really we were prodigiously lively. We then walked on to Mr. Ferry's habitation.

Mr. Ferry is a Bath alderman; his house and garden exhibit the house and garden of Mr. Tattersall, enlarged. Just the same taste prevails, the same paltry ornaments, the same crowd of buildings, the same unmeaning decorations, and the same unsuccessful attempts at making something of nothing.

They kept us half an hour in the garden, while they were preparing for our reception in the house, where after parading through four or five little vulgarly showy closets, not rooms, we were conducted into a very gaudy little apartment, where the master of the house sat reclining on his arm, as if in contemplation, though everything conspired to show that the house and its inhabitants were carefully arranged for our reception. The bishop had sent in his name by way of gaining admission.

The bishop, with a gravity of demeanour difficult to himself to sustain, apologised for our intrusion, and returned thanks for seeing the house and garden. Mr. Ferry started from his pensive att.i.tude, and begged us to be seated, and then a curtain was drawn, and we perceived through a gla.s.s a perspective view of ships, boats, and water. This raree-show over, the maid who officiated as show-woman had a hint given her and presently a trap-door opened, and up jumped a covered table, ornamented with various devices. When we had expressed our delight at this long enough to satisfy Mr. Ferry, another hint was given, and presently down dropped an eagle from the ceiling whose talons were put into a certain hook in the top of the covering of the table, and when the admiration at this was over, up again flew the eagle, conveying in his talons the cover, and leaving under it a repast of cakes, sweetmeats, oranges, and jellies.

When our raptures upon this feat subsided, the maid received another signal, and then seated herself in an armchair, which presently sank down underground, and up in its room came a barber's block, with a vast quant.i.ty of black wool on it, and a high head-dress.

This, you may be sure, was more applauded than all the rest; we were en extase, and having properly expressed our grat.i.tude, were soon after suffered to decamp.

FLIGHTY CAPTAIN BOUCHIER.

_Tuesday._--This morning, by appointment, we met a party at the pump-room, thence to proceed to Spring Gardens, to a public breakfast.

The folks, however, were not to their time, and we sallied forth only with the addition of Miss Weston and Miss Byron.

As soon as we entered the gardens Augusta, who had hold of my arm, called out, "Ah! there's the man I danced with at the ball! and he plagued me to death, asking me if I liked this and that, and the other, and, when I said 'No,' he asked me what I did like? So, I suppose he thought me a fool, and so indeed, I am! only you are so good to me that I wrote my sister Sophy word that you had almost made me quite vain; and she wrote to me t'other day a private letter, and told me how glad she was you were come back, for, indeed, I had written her word I should be quite sick of my life here, if it was not for sometimes seeing you."

The gentleman to whom she pointed presently made up to us, And I found he was Captain Bouchier, the same who had rattled away at Mr. Whalley's.

He instantly joined Miss Weston and consequently our party, and was in the same style of flighty raillery as before. He seems to have a very good understanding, and very quick parts, but he is rather too conscious of both however, he was really very entertaining, and as he abided wholly by Miss Weston, whose delicacy gave way to gaiety and flash, whether she would or not, I was very glad that he made one among us.

The rest of the company soon came, and were Mr. and Mrs. Whalley, Mrs. Lambart, Mrs. Aubrey, Colonel Campbell, an old officer and old acquaintance of Mr. Thrale, and some others, both male and female, whose names I know not.

We all sat in one box, but we had three tea-makers. Miss Weston presided at that to which I belonged, and Augusta, Captain Bouchier, and herself were of our set. And gay enough we were, for the careless rattle of Captain Bouchier, which paid no regard to the daintiness of Miss Weston, made her obliged in her own defence, to abate her finery, and laugh, and rally, and rail, in her turn. But, at 'last, I really began to fear that this flighty officer would bring on a serious quarrel, for, among other subjects he was sporting, he unfortunately started that of the Bath Easton vase, which he ridiculed without mercy, and yet, according to all I have heard of it, without any injustice; but Mrs. Whalley, who overheard him, was quite irritated with him. Sir John an Lady Miller are her friends, and she thought it inc.u.mbent upon her to vindicate even this vain folly, which she did weakly and warmly, while Captain Bouchier only laughed and ridiculed them the more. Mrs. Whalley then coloured, and grew quite enraged, reasoning upon the wickedness of laughing at her good friends, and talking of generosity and sentiment. Meanwhile, he scampered from side to side to avoid her; laughed, shouted, and tried every way of braving it out; but was compelled at last to be serious, and enter into a solemn defence of his intentions, which were, he said, to ridicule the vase, not the Millers.

A YOUNG AND AGREEABLE INFIDEL.

_Wednesday_.--The party was Mr. and Mrs. Vanbrugh--the former a good sort of man--the latter, Captain Bouchier says, reckons herself a woman of humour, but she kept it prodigious snug; Lord Huntingdon, a very deaf old lord Sir Robert Pigot, a very thin old baronet; Mr. Tyson, a very civil master of the ceremonies; Mr. and Mrs. White, a very insignificant couple; Sir James C--, a bawling old man; two Misses C--, a pair of tonish misses; Mrs. and Miss Byron; Miss W--, and certain others I knew nothing of.

Augusta Byron, according to custom, had entered into conversation with me, and we were talking about her sisters, and her affairs, when Mr.

E---(whose name I forgot to mention) came to inform me that Mrs. Lambart begged to speak to me. She was upon a sofa with Miss W--, who, it seemed, desired much to be introduced to me, and so I took a chair facing them.

Miss W-- is young and pleasing in her appearance, not pretty, but agreeable in her face, and soft, gentle, and well bred in her manners.

Our conversation, for some time, was upon the common Bath topics; but when Mrs. Lambart left us--called to receive more company--we went insensibly into graver matters.

As I soon found, by the looks and expressions of this young lady that she was of a peculiar cast, I left all choice of subjects to herself, determined quietly to follow as she led; and very soon, and I am sure I know not how, we had for topics the follies and vices of mankind, and, indeed, she spared not for lashing them. The women she rather excused than defended, laying to the door of the men their faults and imperfections; but the men, she said, were all bad--all, in one word, and without exception, sensualists.

I stared much at a severity of speech for which her softness of manner had so ill prepared me; and she, perceiving my surprise, said,

"I am sure I ought to apologise for speaking my opinion to you--you, who have so just and so uncommon a knowledge of human nature. I have long wished ardently to have the honour of conversing with you; but your party has, altogether, been regarded as so formidable, that I have not had courage to approach it."

I made--as what could I do else?--disqualifying speeches, and she then led to discoursing of happiness and misery: the latter she held to be the invariable lot of us all; and "one word," she added, "we have in our language, and in all others, for which there is never any essential necessity, and that is pleasure!" And her eyes filled with tears as she spoke.

"How you amaze me!" cried I; "I have met with misanthropes before, but never with so complete a one; and I can hardly think I hear right when I see how young you are!"

She then, in rather indirect terms, gave me to understand that she was miserable at home, and in very direct terms, that she was wretched abroad; and openly said, that to affliction she was born, and in affliction she must die, for that the world was so vilely formed as to render happiness impossible for its inhabitants.

There was something in this freedom of repining that I could by no means approve, and, as I found by all her manner that she had a disposition to even respect whatever I said, I now grew very serious, and frankly told her that I could not think it consistent with either truth or religion to cherish such notions.