THE KING’S NIGHT WATCHERS.
Not till one in the morning did I see another face, and then I attended my poor unhappy queen. She was now fixed in her new apartments, bed-room and dressing-room, and stirred not a step but from one to the other. Fortunately all are upon the ground-floor, both for king and queen; so are the two Lady Waldegraves’ and mine; the princesses and Miss Planta, as usual, are upstairs, and the gentlemen lodge above them.
Miss Goldsworthy had now a bed put up in the queen’s new bed-room. She had by no means health to go on sitting up, and it had been the poor king’s own direction that she should remain with the queen. It was settled that Mrs. Sandys and Mrs. Macenton should alternately sit up in the dressing-room.
The queen would not permit me to take that office, though most gladly I would have taken any that would have kept me about her. But she does; not think my strength sufficient. She allowed me however to stay with her till she was in bed, which I had never done till now; I never, indeed, had even seen her in her bed-room till the day before. She has always had the kindness and delicacy, to dismiss me from her dressing-room as soon as I have assisted her with her night-clothes; the wardrobe-woman then was summoned, and I regularly made my courtesy. It was a satisfaction to me, however, now to leave her the last, and to come to her the first.
Her present dressing-room is also her dining-room, her drawing-room, her sitting-room; she has nothing else but her bed-room!
I left her with my fervent prayers for better times, and saw her nearer to composure than I had believed possible in such a calamity. She called to her aid her religion, and without it what, indeed, must have become of her? It was near two in the morning when I quitted her.
In passing through the dressing-room to come away, I found Miss Goldsworthy in some distress how to execute a commission of the queen’s: it was to her brother, who was to sit up in a room adjoining to the king’s; and she was undressed, and knew not how to go to him, as the princes were to and fro everywhere. I offered to call him to her she thankfully accepted the proposal. I cared not, just then, whom I encountered, so I could make myself of any use.
When I gently opened the door of the apartment to which I was directed, I found it was quite filled with gentlemen and attendants, arranged round it on chairs and sofas in dead silence. It was a dreadful start, with which I retreated; for anything more alarming and shocking could not be conceived! the poor king within another door, unconscious any one was near him, and thus watched, by dread necessity, at such an hour of the night! I pronounced the words “Colonel Goldsworthy,” however, before I drew back, though I could not distinguish one gentleman from another, except the two princes, by their stars.
I waited in the next room; but instead of Colonel Goldsworthy, my call was answered by Mr. Fairly. I acquainted him with my errand. He told me he had himself insisted that Colonel Goldsworthy should go to bed, as he had sat up all the preceding night and he had undertaken to supply his place.
I went back to Miss Goldsworthy with this account. She begged me to entreat Mr. Fairly would come to her, as she must now make the commission devolve on him, and could less than ever appear, herself, as they were all assembled in such a party.
Mr. Fairly, most considerately, had remained in this quiet room to see if anything more might be wanted, which spared me the distress of again intruding into the public room. I begged him to follow, and we were proceeding to the dressing-room, when I was stopped by a gentleman, who said, “Does the queen want anybody?" It was the Prince of Wales. “Not the queen, sir,” I answered, “but Miss Goldsworthy, has desired to see Mr. Fairly.”
He let me pass, but stopped Mr. Fairly; and, as he seemed inclined to detain him some time, I only told Miss Goldsworthy what had retarded him, and made off to my own room, and soon after two o’clock, I believe, I was in bed.
A CHANGE IN MISS BURNEYs DUTIES.
Friday, Nov. 7.—I was now arrived at a sort of settled regularity of life more melancholy than can possibly be described. I rose at six, dressed, and hastened to the queen’s apartments, uncalled, and there waited in silence and in the dark till I heard her move or speak with Miss Goldsworthy, and then presented myself to the sad bedside of the unhappy queen. She sent Miss Goldsworthy early every morning, to make inquiry what sort of night his majesty had passed; and in the middle of the night she commonly Also sent for news by the wardrobe-woman, or Miss Macenton, whichever sat up.
She dismissed Miss Goldsworthy, on my arrival, to dress herself. Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave accommodated her with her own room for that purpose. I had then a long conference with this most patient sufferer and equal forbearance and quietness during a period of suspensive unhappiness never have I seen, never could I have imagined.
At noon now I never saw her, which I greatly regretted but she kept on her dressing-gown all day, and the princes were continually about the passages, so that no one unsummoned dared approach the queen’s apartments. It was only therefore at night and morning I could see her but my heart was with her the livelong day. And how long, good heaven! how long that day became! Endless I used to think it, for nothing could I do—to wait and to watch—starting at every sound, yet revived by every noise.