The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay Volume Ii Part 56

He moved me even to tears, by telling me that none of their own lives would be safe if the king did not recover so Prodigiously high ran the tide of affection and loyalty. All the physicians received threatening letters daily to answer for the safety of their monarch with their lives! Sir George Baker had already been Stopped in his carriage by the mob to give an account of the king; and when he said it Was a bad one, they had furiously exclaimed, "The more shame for you!"

A PRIVY COUNCIL HELD.

After he left me, a privy council was held at the Castle, with the Prince of Wales; the chancellor,(300) Mr. Pitt, and all the officers of state were summoned, to sign a Permission for the king's removal. The poor queen gave an audience to the chancellor--it was necessary to sanctify their proceedings. The princess royal and Lady Courtown attended her. It was a tragedy the most dismal!

The queen's knowledge of the king's aversion to Kew made her consent to this measure with the extremest reluctance yet it was not to be opposed: It Was stated as much the best for him, on account of the garden: as here there is none but what Is Public to spectators from the terrace or tops of houses. I believe they were perfectly right though the removal was so tremendous. The physicians were summoned to the privy Council, to give their Opinions, upon oath, that this step was necessary.

Inexpressible was the alarm of everyone, lest the king, if he recovered, should bear a lasting resentment against the authors and promoters of this Journey. To give it, therefore, every possible sanction it was decreed that he should be seen, both by the chancellor and Mr. Pitt.

The chancellor went in to his presence with a tremor such as, before, he had been only accustomed to inspire; and when he came out, he was so extremely affected by the state in which he

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saw his royal master and patron that the tears ran down his cheeks, and his feet had difficulty to support him. Mr. Pitt was more composed, but expressed his grief with so much respect and attachment, that it added new weight to the universal admiration with which he is here beheld.

All these circ.u.mstances, with various others, of equal sadness which I must not relate, came to my knowledge from Sir Lucas, Mr.

de Luc, and my noon attendance upon her majesty, who was compelled to dress for her audience of the chancellor. And, altogether, with the horror of the next day's removal, an([ the gloom of the ensuing Kew residence, I was so powerfully depressed, that when Mr. Fairly came in the evening, not all my earnestness to support my firmness could re-animate me, and I gave him a most solemn reception, and made the tea directly, and almost in silence.

He endeavoured, at first, to revive me by enlivening discourse, but finding that fail, he had recourse to more serious means. He began his former favourite topic-the miseries of life-the inherent miseries, he thinks them, to which we are so universally born and bred, that it was as much consonant with our reason to expect as with our duty to support them.

I heard him with that respect his subject and his character alike merited; but I could not answer--my heart was sunk--my spirits were all exhausted: I knew not what to expect next, nor how I might be enabled to wade through the dreadful winter. . . .

He had not, I saw, one ray of hope to offer me of better times, yet he recommended me to cheer myself; but not by more sanguine expectations--simply and solely by religion. To submit, he said, to pray and to submit, were all we had to do. . . .

The voice of the Prince of Wales, in the pa.s.sage, carried him away. They remained together, in deep conference, all the rest of the evening, consulting upon measures for facilitating the king's removal, and obtaining his consent.

I went very late to the queen, and found her in deep sorrow but nothing confidential pa.s.sed: I found her not alone, nor alone did I leave her. But I knew what was pa.s.sing in her mind--the removing the king!-Its difficulty and danger at present, and the dread of his permanent indignation hereafter.

Page 265 THE REMOVAL To KEW.

Nov. 29.-Shall I ever forget the varied emotions of this dreadful day! I rose with the heaviest of hearts, and found my poor royal mistress in the deepest dejection: she told me now of our intended expedition to Kew. Lady Elizabeth hastened away to dress, and I was alone with her for some time. Her mind, she said, quite misgave her about Kew: the king's dislike was terrible to think of, and she could not foresee in what it might end. She would have resisted the measure herself, hut that she had determined not to have upon her own mind any opposition to the opinion of the physicians.

The account of the night was still more and more discouraging: it was related to me by one of the pages, Mr. Brawan; and though a little I softened or omitted particulars, I yet most sorrowfully conveyed it to the queen.

Terrible was the morning!--uninterruptedly terrible! all spent in hasty packing up, preparing for we knew not what, nor for how long, nor with what circ.u.mstances, nor scarcely with what view!

We seemed preparing for captivity, without having committed any offence; and for banishment, without the least conjecture when we might be recalled from it.

The poor queen was to get off in private: the plan settled, between the princes and the physicians, was, that her majesty and the princesses should go away quietly, and then that the king should be told that they were gone, which was the sole method they could devise to prevail with him to follow. He was then to be allured by a promise of seeing them at Kew again, as they knew he would doubt their a.s.sertion, he was to go through the rooms and examine the house himself.

I believe it was about ten o'clock when her majesty departed drowned in tears, she glided along the pa.s.sage, and got softly into her carriage, with two weeping princesses, and Lady Courtown, who was to be her lady-in-waiting during this dreadful residence. Then followed the third princess, With Lady Charlotte Finch. They went off without any state or parade, and a more melancholy Scene cannot be imagined. There was not a dry eye in the house. The footmen, the house-maids, the porter, the sentinels--all cried even bitterly as they looked on.

The three younger princesses were to wait till the event was known. Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave and Miss Goldsworthy had their royal highnesses in charge,

Page 266 It was settled the king was to be attended by three of his gentlemen, in the carriage, and to be followed by the physicians, and preceded by his pages. But all were to depart on his arrival at Kew, except his own equerry-in-waiting. It Was not very pleasant to these gentlemen to attend his majesty at such a time, and upon such a plan, so adverse to his inclination, without any power of a.s.sistance : however, they would rather have died than refused, and it was certain the king would no other way travel but by compulsion, which no human being dared even mention.

Miss Planta and I were to go as soon as the packages could be ready, with some of the queen's things. Mrs. Schwellenberg was to remain behind, for one day, in order to make arrangements about the jewels.

In what a confusion was the house! Princes, equerries, physicians, pages--all conferring, whispering, plotting, and caballing, how to induce the king to set off!

At length we found an opportunity to glide through the pa.s.sage to the coach; Miss Planta and myself, with her maid and Goter. But the heaviness of heart with which we began this journey, and the dreadful prognostics of the duration of misery to which it led us--who can tell?

We were almost wholly silent all the way. When we arrived at Kew, we found the suspense with which the king was awaited truly terrible. Her majesty had determined to return to Windsor at night, if he came not. We were all to forbear unpacking in the mean while.

The house was all now regulated by express order of the Prince of Wales, who rode over first, and arranged all the apartments, and writ, with chalk, the names of the destined inhabitants on each door. My own room he had given to Lady Courtown ; and for me, he had fixed on one immediately adjoining to Mrs. Schwellenberg's; a very pleasant room, looking into the garden, but by everybody avoided, because the part.i.tion is so thin of the next apartment, that not a word can be spoken in either that is not heard in both.

A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR.

While I was surveying this new habitation, the princess royal came into it, and, with a cheered countenance, told me that the queen had just received intelligence that the king was rather better, and would come directly, and therefore I was

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commissioned to issue orders to Columb to keep out of sight, and to see that none of the servants were in the way when the king pa.s.sed.

Eagerly, and enlivened, downstairs I hastened, to speak to Columb. I flew to the parlour to ring the bell for him, as In my new room I had no bell for either man or maid; but judge my surprise, when, upon opening the door, and almost rus.h.i.+ng in, I perceived a Windsor uniform! I was retreating with equal haste, when the figure before me started, in so theatric an att.i.tude of astonishment, that it forced me to look again. The arms were then wide opened, while the figure fell back, in tragic paces.

Much at a loss, and unable to distinguish the face, I was again retiring, when the figure advanced, but in such measured steps as might have suited a march upon a stage. I now suspected it was Mr. Fairly; yet so unlikely I thought it, I could not believe it without speech. "Surely," I cried, " it is not--it is not--" I stopped, afraid to make a mistake.

With arms yet more sublimed, he only advanced, in silence and dumb heroics. I now ventured to look more steadily at the face, and then to exclaim-" "Is it Mr. Fairly?"

The laugh now betrayed him: he could hardly believe I had really not known him. I explained that my very little expectation of seeing him at Kew had a.s.sisted my near-sightedness to perplex me.

But I was glad to see him so sportive, which I found was Owing to the good spirits of bringing good news; he had mounted his horse as soon as he had heard the king had consented to the journey, and he had galloped to Kew, to acquaint her majesty with the welcome tidings.

I rang and gave my orders to Columb and he then begged me not to hurry away, and to give him leave to wait, in this parlour, the king's arrival. He then explained to me the whole of the intended proceedings and arrangements, with details innumerable and most interesting.

He meant to go almost immediately into the country--all was settled with the queen. I told him I was most cordially glad his recruit was so near at hand.

"I shall, however," he said, "be in town a few days longer, and come hither constantly to pay you all a little visit."

Miss Planta then appeared. A more general conversation now took place, though in its course Mr. Fairly had the malice to give me a start I little expected from him. We were talk-

Page 268 ing of our poor king, and wondering at the delay of his arrival, when Mr. Fairly said, "The king now, Miss Planta, mentions everybody and everything that he knows or has heard mentioned in his whole life. Pray does he know any Of your secrets? he'll surely tell them if he does!"

"So I hear," cried she, "but I'm sure he can't tell anything of Me! But I wonder what he says of everybody?"

"Why, everything," cried he. "Have you not heard of yourself?"

"Dear, no! Dear me, Mr. Fairly!"

"And, dear Miss Planta! why should not you have your share? Have you not heard he spares n.o.body?"

"Yes, I have; but I can't think what he says of them!"

Fearful of anything more, I arose and looked at the Window to see if any sign of approach appeared, but he dropped the subject without coming any nearer, and Miss Planta dropped it too.