A Bewitching Prodigy

Tunbridge Wells is a place that to me appeared very Singular; the country is all rock, and every part of it is either up or down hill, scarce ten yards square being level ground in the whole place: the houses, too, are scattered about in a strange wild manner, and look as if they had been dropt where they stand by accident, for they form neither streets nor squares, but seem strewed promiscuously, except, indeed, where the shopkeepers live, who have got two or three dirty little lanes, much like dirty little lanes in other places. In the evening we all went to the rooms.  The rooms, as they are called, consisted for this evening, of only one apartment, as there was not company enough to make more necessary, and a very plain, unadorned, and ordinary apartment that was. The next morning we had the company of two young ladies at breakfast-the S. S. and a Miss Birch, a little girl but ten years old, whom the S. S. invited, well foreseeing how much we should all be obliged to her.  This Miss Birch is a niece of the charming Mrs. Pleydell, and so like her, that I should have taken her for her daughter.  yet she is not, now, quite so handsome; but as she will soon know how to display her beauty to the utmost advantage, I fancy, in a few years, she will yet more resemble her lovely and most bewitching aunt.  Everybody, she said, tells her how like she is to her aunt Pleydell. As you, therefore, have seen that sweet woman, only imagine her ten years old, and you will see her sweet niece.  Nor does the resemblance rest with the person; she sings like her, laughs like her, talks like her, caresses like her, and alternately softens and animates just like her.  Her conversation is not merely like that of a woman already, but like that of a most uncommonly [...]

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The Crying Beauty and her Mother

Brighthelmstone, October 12-On Tuesday Mr., Mrs., Miss Thrale, and “yours, ma’am, yours,” set out on their expedition.  The day was very pleasant, and the journey delightful. We dined very comfortably at Sevenoaks, and thence made but one stage to Tunbridge.  It was so dark when we went through the town that I could see it very indistinctly.  The Wells, however, are about seven miles yet further, so that we saw that night nothing; but I assure you, I felt that I was entering into a new country pretty roughly, for the roads were so sidelum and jumblum, as Miss L– called those of Teignmouth, that I expected an overturn every minute.  Safely, however, we reached the Sussex Hotel, at Tunbridge Wells. Having looked at our rooms, and arranged our affairs, we proceeded to Mount Ephraim, where Miss Streatfield resides.  We found her with only her mother, and spent the evening there. Mrs. Streatfield is very–very little, but perfectly well made, thin, genteel, and delicate.  She has been quite beautiful, and has still so much of beauty left, that to call it only the remains of a fine face seems hardly doing her justice.  She is very lively, and an excellent mimic, and is, I think, as much superior to her daughter in natural gifts as her daughter is to her in acquired ones: and how infinitely preferable are parts without education to education without parts! The fair S. S. is really in higher beauty than I have ever yet seen her; and she was so caressing, so soft, so amiable, that I felt myself insensibly inclining to her with an affectionate regard.  ”If it was not for that little, gush,” as Dr. Delap said, I should certainly have taken a very great fancy to her; but tears so ready-oh, they blot out my fair opinion of her!  Yet whenever I am with her, I like, nay, almost love her, for her manners are exceedingly [...]

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“Quite what we call,” and “give me leave to tell you”

We had Lady Ladd at Streatham; Mr. Stephen Fuller, the sensible, but deaf old gentleman I have formerly mentioned, dined here also; as did Mr. R–, whose trite, settled, tonish emptiness of discourse is a never-failing source of laughter and diversion. “Well, I say, what, Miss Burney, so you had a very good party last Tuesday?–what we call the family party–in that Sort of way?  Pray who had you?” “Mr. Chamier.” “Mr. Chamier, ay? Give me leave to tell you, Miss Burney, that Mr. Chamier is what we call a very sensible man!” “Certainly.  And Mr. Pepys.” “Mr. Pepys?  Ay, very good–very good in that sort of way.  I am quite sorry I could not be here; but I was so much indisposed– quite what we call the nursing party.” “I’m very sorry; but I hope little Sharp is well? “Ma’am, your most humble! you’re a very good lady, indeed!–quite what we call a good lady!  Little Sharp is perfectly well: that sort of attention, and things of that sort,—the bow-wow system is very well.  But pray, Miss Burney, give me leave to ask, in that sort of way, had you anybody else?” Yes, Lady Ladd and Mr. Seward.” “So, so!–quite the family system!  Give me leave to tell you, Miss Burney, this commands attention!–what we call a respectable invitation!  I am sorry I could not come, indeed; for we young men, Miss Burney, we make it what we call a sort of rule to take notice of this sort of attention.  But I was extremely indisposed, indeed–what we call the walnut system had quite— Pray what’s the news, Miss Burney?–in that sort of way, is there any news?” “None, that I have heard.  Have you heard any?” “Why, very bad! very bad, indeed!–quite what we call poor old England!  I was told, in town,–fact–fact, I assure you–that these Dons intend us an invasion this very month, they and the Monsieurs intend [...]

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The Fate of “The Witlings”

(To Mr. Crisp.) Friday, July 30 This seems a strange, unseasonable period for my undertaking, but yet, my dear daddy, when you have read my conVersation with Mr. Sheridan, I believe you will agree that I must have been wholly insensible, nay, almost ungrateful, to resist encouragement such as he gave me–nay, more than encouragement, entreaties, all of which he warmly repeated to my father. Now, as to the play itself, I own I had wished to have been the bearer of it when I visit Chesington; but you seem so urgent, and my father himself is so desirous to carry it you, that I have given that plan up. O my dear daddy, if your next letter were to contain your real opinion of it, how should I dread to open it! Be, however, as honest as your good nature and delicacy will allow you to be, and assure yourself I shall be very certain that all your criticisms will proceed from your earnest wishes to obviate those of others, and that you would have much more pleasure in being my panegyrist. As to Mrs. Gast, I should be glad to know what I would refuse to a sister of yours. Make her, therefore, of your coterie, if she is with you while the piece is in your possession. And now let me tell you what I wish in regard to this affair. I should like that your first reading should have nothing to do with me-that you should go quick through it, or let my father read it to you-forgetting all the time, as much as you can, that Fannikin is the writer, or even that it is a play in manuscript, and capable of alterations ;-and then, when you have done, I should like to have three [...]

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Proposed Match Between Mr Seward and Miss Streatfield

When Mrs. Thrale joined us, Mr. Seward told us he had just seen Dr. Jebb.–Sir Richard, I mean,–and that he had advised him to marry. “No,” cried Mrs. Thrale, “that will do nothing for you; but if you should marry, I have a wife for you.” “Who?” cried he, “the S. S.?” “The S. S.?–no!–she’s the last person for you,–her extreme softness, and tenderness, and weeping, would add languor to languor, and irritate all your disorders; ‘twould be drink to a dropsical man.” “No, no,-it would soothe me.” “Not a whit ! it would only fatigue you. The wife for you is Lady Anne Lindsay. She has birth, wit, and beauty, she has no fortune, and she’d readily accept you; and she is such a spirit that she’d animate you, I warrant you! O, she would trim you well! you’d be all alive presently. She’d take all the care of the money affairs,–and allow you out of them eighteen pence a week! That’s the wife for you!” Mr. Seward was by no means ” agreeable ” to the proposal; he turned the conversation upon the S. S., and gave us an account of two visits he had made her, and spoke in favour of her manner of living, temper, and character. When he had run on in this strain for some time, Mrs. Thrale cried, “Well, so you are grown very fond of her?” “Oh dear, no!” answered he, drily, “not at all!” ” Why, I began to think,” said Mrs. Thrale, “you intended to supplant the parson.” “No, I don’t: I don’t know what sort of an old woman she’d make; the tears won’t do then. Besides, I don’t think her so sensible as I used to do.” “But she’s very pleasing,” cried I, “and very amiable.” “Yes, she’s [...]

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“Everything is a Bore”

Sunday, June 20,-While I was sitting with Mr. Thrale, in the library, Mr. Seward entered. As soon as the first inquiries were over, he spoke about what he calls our comedy, and he pressed and teazed me to set about it. But he grew, in the evening, so queer, so ennuy`e, that, in a fit of absurdity, I called him “Mr. Dry;” and the name took so with Mrs. Thrale, that I know not when he will lose it. Indeed, there is something in this young man’s alternate drollery and lassitude, entertaining qualities and wearying complaints, that provoke me to more pertness than I practise to almost anybody. The play, he said, should have the double title of “The Indifferent Man, or Everything a Bore;” and I protested Mr. Dry should be the hero. And then we ran on, jointly planning a succession of ridiculous scenes;–he lashing himself pretty freely though not half so freely, or so much to the purpose, as I lashed him; for I attacked him, through the channel of Mr, Dry, upon his ennui, his causeless melancholy, his complaining languors, his yawning inattention, and his restless discontent. You may easily imagine I was in pretty high spirits to go so far: in truth, nothing else could either have prompted or excused my facetiousness : and his own manners are so cavalier, that they always, with me, stimulate a sympathising return. He repeatedly begged me to go to work, and commit the projected scenes to paper: but I thought that might be carry-ing the jest too far; for as I was in no humour to spare him, writtten raillery might, perhaps, have been less to his taste than verbal. He challenged me to meet him the next morning, before breakfast, in the library, that we might work [...]

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Sophy Streatfield again Weeps to Order

We had at breakfast a scene, of its sort, the most curious I ever saw. The persons were Sir Philip, Mr. Seward, Dr. Delap, Miss Streatfield, Mrs. and Miss Thrale, and I. The discourse turning I know not how, upon Miss Streatfield, Mrs. Thrale said, “Ay I made her cry once for Miss Burney as pretty as could be, but nobody does cry so pretty as the S. S. I’m sure, when she cried for Seward, I never saw her look half so lovely.” “For Seward?” cried Sir Philip; “did she cry for Seward? What a happy dog! I hope she’ll never cry for me, for if she does, I won’t answer for the consequences!” “Seward,” said Mrs. Thrale, “had affronted Johnson, and then Johnson affronted Seward, and then the S. S. cried.” “OH,” cried Sir Philip, “that I had but been here!” “Nay,” answered Mrs. Thrale, “you’d only have seen how like three fools three sensible persons behaved: for my part, I was quite sick of it, and of them too.” Sir P.- But what did Seward do? was he not melted? Mrs. T.-Not he; he was thinking only of his own affront, and taking fire at that. Mr. S.-Why, yes, I did take fire, for I went and planted my back to it. S.S.-And Mrs. Thrale kept stuffing me with toast-and-water. Sir P.-But what did Seward do with himself? Was not he in extacy? What did he do or say? Mr. S.-Oh, I said pho, pho, don’t let’s have any more of this,– it’s making it of too much consequence: no more piping, pray. Sir P.-Well, I have heard so much of these tears, that I would give the universe to have a sight of them. Mrs. T.-Well, she shall cry again if you like it. S.S.-No, pray, [...]

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Giddy Miss Brown

At dinner we had three persons added to our company,–my dear father, Miss Streatfield, and Miss Brown. Miss Brown, as I foresaw, proved the queen of the day. Miss Streatfield requires longer time to make conquests. She is, indeed, much more really beautiful than Fanny Brown; but Fanny Brown is much more showy, and her open, goodhumoured, gay, laughing face inspires an almost immediate wish of conversing and merry-making with her. Indeed, the two days she spent here have raised her greatly in my regard. She is a charming girl, and so natural, and easy, and sweet-tempered, that there is no being half an hour in her company without ardently wishing her well. Next day at breakfast, our party was Sir Philip, Mr. Fuller, Miss Streatfield, Miss Brown, the Thrales, and I. The first office performed was dressing Miss Brown. She had put on bright, jonquil ribbons. Mrs. Thrale exclaimed against them immediately; Mr. Fuller half joined her, and away she went, and brought green ribbons of her own, which she made Miss Brown run up stairs with to put on. This she did with the utmost good humour; but dress is the last thing in which she excels; for she has lived so much abroad, and so much with foreigners at home, that she never appears habited as an Englishwoman, nor as a high-bred foreigner, but rather as an Italian Opera-dancer; and her wild, careless, giddy manner, her loud hearty laugh, and general negligence of appearance, contribute to give her that air and look. I like her so much, that I am quite sorry she is not better advised, either by her own or some friend’s judgment. Miss Brown, however, was queen of the breakfast: for though her giddiness made everybody take liberties with her, her goodhumour made everybody [...]

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Hearts Have At Ye All

Streatham, Sunday, June 13. After church we all strolled the grounds, and the topic of our discourse was Miss Streatfield. Mrs. Thrale asserted that she had a power of captivation that was irresistible; that her beauty, joined to her softness, her caressing manners, her tearful eyes, and alluring looks, would insinuate her into the heart of any man she thought worth attacking. Sir Philip declared himself of a totally different opinion,?,:’and quoted Dr. Johnson against her, who had told him that, taking away her Greek, she was as ignorant as a butterfly. Mr. Seward declared her Greek was all against her, with him, for that, instead of reading Pope, Swift, or “The Spectator”– books from which she might derive useful knowledge and improvement–it had led her to devote all her reading time to the first eight books of Homer. “But,” said Mrs. Thrale, “her Greek, you must own, has made all her celebrity:–you would have heard no more of her than of any other pretty girl, but for that.” “What I object to,” said Sir Philip, “is her avowed Preference for this parson. Surely it is very indelicate in any lady to let all the world know with whom she is in love ! ” “The parson,” said the severe Mr. Seward, “I suppose, spoke first,–or she would as soon have been in love with you, or with me!” You will easily believe I gave him no pleasant look. He wanted me to slacken my pace, and tell him, in confidence, my private opinion of her : but I told him, very truly, that as I knew her chiefly by account, not by acquaintance, I had not absolutely formed my opinion. “Were I to live with her four days,” said this odd man, “I believe the fifth I should want [...]

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A Militia Captain Officiates As Barber

Saturday, May 29.  After breakfast, Mrs. and Miss Thrale took me to Widget’s, the milliner and library-woman on the Steyn.  After a little dawdling conversation, Captain Fuller came in to have a little chat.  He said he had just gone  through a great operation–”I have been,” he said, “cutting off the hair of all my men.” “And why ? “Why, the Duke of Richmond ordered that it should be done, and the fellows swore that they would not submit to it; so I was forced to be the operator myself.  I told them they would look as smart again when they had got on their caps; but it went much against them, they vowed, at first, they would not bear such usage; some said they would sooner be run through the body, and others, that the duke should as soon have their heads.  I told them I would soon try that, and fell to work myself with them.” “And how did they bear it ? “Oh, poor fellows, with great good-nature, when they found his honour was their barber: but I thought proper to submit to bearing all their oaths, and all their jokes; for they had no other comfort but to hope I should have enough of it, and such sort of wit.  Three or four of them, however, escaped, but I Shall find them out.  I told them I had a good mind to cut my own hair off too, and then they would have a Captain Crop.  I shall soothe them to-morrow with a present of new feathers for all their caps.”

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Mr. Murphy Considers the Dialogue is Charming: A Censorious Lady

After tea, the bishop, his lady, Lord Mordaunt, and Mrs. H– seated themselves to play at whist, and Mr. Murphy, coming Up to me, said, “I have had no opportunity, Miss Burney, to tell you how much I have been entertained this morning, but I have a great deal to say to you about it; I am extremely pleased with it, indeed. The dialogue is charming; and the–” “What’s that?” cried Mrs. Thrale, “Mr. Murphy always flirting with Miss Burney?  And here, too, where everybody’s watched!” And she cast her eyes towards Mrs. H–, who is as censorious a country lady as ever locked up all her ideas in a country town.  She has told us sneering anecdotes of every woman and every officer in Brighthelm stone.  Mr. Murphy, checked by Mrs. Thrale’s exclamation, stopt the conversation, and said he must run away, but would return in half-an-hour. “Don’t expect, however, Miss Burney,” he said, “I shall bring with me what you are thinking of; no, I can’t part with it yet! ” What! at it again cried Mrs. Thrale.  ” This flirting is incessant ; but it’s all to Mr. Murphy’s credit.” Mrs. Thrale told me afterwards, that she made these speeches to divert the attention of the company from our subject; for that she found they were all upon the watch the moment Mr. Murphy addressed me, and that the bishop and his lady almost threw down their cards, from eagerness to discover what he meant. The supper was very gay: Mrs. Thrale was in high spirits, and her wit flashed with incessant brilliancy; Mr. Murphy told several stories with admirable humour; and the Bishop of Peterborough was a worthy third in contributing towards general entertainment.  He turns out most gaily sociable.  Mrs. H– was discussed, and, poor [...]

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A Scene on the Brighton Parade

We afterwards went on the parade, where the soldiers were mustering, and found Captain Fuller’s men all half intoxicated, and laughing so violently as we passed by them, that they could hardly stand upright.  The captain stormed at them most angrily; but, turning to us, said, ” These poor fellows have just been paid their arrears, and it is so unusual to them to have a sixpence in their pockets, that they know not how to keep it there.” The wind being extremely high, our caps and gowns were blown about most abominably; and this increased the risibility of the merry light infantry.  Captain ‘Fuller’s desire to keep order made me laugh as much as the men’s incapacity to obey him; for, finding our flying drapery provoked their mirth, he went up to the biggest grinner, and, shaking him violently by the shoulders, said, “What do you laugh for, sirrah? do you laugh at the ladies?”  and, as soon as he had given the reprimand, it struck him. to be so ridiculous, that he was obliged to turn quick round, and commit the very fault he was attacking most furiously.

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Mr. Murphy’s Concern

Streatham, May, Friday.  Once more, my dearest Susy, I will attempt journalising, and endeavour, according to my promise, to keep up something of the kind during our absence, however brief and curtailed. To-day, while Mrs. Thrale was chatting with me in my room, we saw Mr. Murphy drive into the courtyard.  Down stairs flew Mrs. Thrale, but, in a few minutes, up she flew again, ‘crying, “Mr. Murphy is crazy for your play–he won’t let me rest for it– do pray let me run away with the first act.” Little as I like to have it seen in this unfinished state, she was too urgent to be resisted, so off she made with it. I did not shew my phiz till I was summoned to dinner.  Mr. Murphy, probably out of flummery, made us wait some minutes, and, when he did come, said, I had much ado not to keep you all longer, for I could hardly get away from some new acquaintances I was just making.” As he could not stay to sleep here, he had only time, after dinner, to finish the first act.  He was pleased to commend it very liberally; he has pointed out two places where he thinks I might enlarge, but has not criticised one word; on the contrary, the dialogue he has honoured with high praise. Brighthelmstone, May 26.  The road from Streatham hither is beautiful: Mr., Mrs., Miss Thrale, and Miss Susan Thrale, and I, travelled in a coach, with four horses, and two of the servants in a chaise, besides two men on horseback; so we were obliged to stop for some time at three places on the road. We got home by about nine o’clock.  Mr. Thrale’s house is in West Street, which is the court end of the town [...]

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Mr Murphy, the Dramatist

On Thursday, while my dear father was here, who should be announced but Mr. Murphy; the man of all other strangers to me whom I most longed to see. He is tall and well made, has a very gentlemanlike appearance, and a quietness of manner upon his first address that, to me, is very pleasing.  His face looks sensible, and his deportment is perfectly easy and polite. When he had been welcomed by Mrs. Thrale, and had gone through the reception-salutations of Dr. Johnson and my father, Mrs. Thrale, advancing to me, said, But here is a lady I must introduce to you, Mr. Murphy here is another F. B.” “Indeed!” cried he, taking my hand; “is this a sister of Miss Brown’s?” “No, no; this is Miss Burney.” “What!” cried he, staring; “is this–is this–this is not the lady that–that–” “Yes, but it is,” answered she, laughing. “‘No, you don’t say so?  You don’t mean the lady that–” “Yes yes I do; no less a lady, I assure you.” He then said he was very glad of the honour of seeing me.  I sneaked away.  When we came upstairs, Mrs. Thrale charged me to make myself agreeable to Mr. Murphy. “He may be of use to you, in what I am most eager for, your writing a play: he knows stage business so well; and if you but take a fancy to one another, he may be more able to serve you than all of us put together.  My ambition is, that Johnson should write your prologue, and Murphy your epilogue, then I shall be quite happy.” At tea-time, when I went into the library, I found Johnson reading, and Mrs. Thrale in close conference with Mr. Murphy. “If I,” said Mr. Murphy, looking very archly, “had writte a [...]

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Sir Philip Jennings Clerke

Streatham, February.-I have been here so long, MY dearest Susan, Without writing a word, that now I hardly know where or how to begin, But I will try to draw up a concise account of what has passed for this last fortnight, and then endeavour to be more minute. Mrs. Thrale and Dr. Johnson vied with each other in the kindness of their reception of me.  Mr. Thrale was, as usual at first, cold and quiet, but soon, as usual also, warmed into sociality, The next day Sir Philip Jennings Clerke came.  He is not at all a man of letters, but extremely well-bred, nay, elegant, in his manners, and sensible and agreeable in his conversation, He is a professed minority man, and very active and zealous in the opposition.  He had, when I came, a bill in agitation concerning contractors–too long a matter to explain upon paper–but which was levelled against bribery and corruption in the ministry, and which he was to make a motion upon in __the House of Commons the next week. Men of such different principles as Dr. Johnson and Sir Philip you may imagine, can not have much sympathy or cordiality in their political debates; however, the very superior abilities of the former, and the remarkable good breeding of the latter have kept both upon good terms; though they have had several arguments, in which each has exerted his utmost force for conquest. The heads of one of their debates I must try to remember, because I should be sorry to forget.  Sir Philip explained his bill; Dr. Johnson at first scoffed at it; Mr. Thrale betted a guinea the motion would not pass, and Sir Philip, that he should divide a hundred and fifty upon it. Sir Philip, addressing himself to Mrs. Thrale, hoped [...]

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