THE PROCESSION TO THE BALL-ROOM: ABSENCE OF THE PRINCES.
In the evening I had by no means strength to encounter the ball-room. I gave my tickets to Mrs. and Miss Douglas. Mrs. Stainforth was dying to see the Princess Mary in her Court dress. Mr. Stanhope offered to conduct her to a place of prospect. She went with him. I thought this preferable to an unbroken evening with my fair companion, and Mr. de Luc, thinking the same, we both left Mrs. Schwellenberg to unattire, and followed. But we were rather in a scrape by trusting to Mr. Stanhope after all this champagne: he had carried Mrs. Stainforth to the very door of the ball-room, and there fixed her—in a place which the king, queen, and suite must brush past in order to enter the ball-room. I had followed, however, and the crowds of beef-eaters, officers, and guards that lined all the state-rooms through which we exhibited ourselves, prevented my retreating alone. I stood, therefore, next to Mrs. Stainforth, and saw the ceremony.
The passage was made so narrow by attendants, that they were all forced to go one by one. First, all the king’s great state-officers, amongst whom I recognised Lord Courtown, a treasurer of the household; Lord Salisbury carried a candle!—’tis an odd etiquette.—These being passed, came the king—he saw us and laughed; then the queen’s master of the horse, Lord Harcourt, who did ditto; then some more. The vice-chamberlain carries the queen’s candle, that she may have the arm of the lord chamberlain to lean on; accordingly, Lord Aylesbury, receiving that honour, now preceded the queen: she looked amazed at sight of us. The kind princesses one by one acknowledged us. I spoke to sweet Princess Mary, wishing her royal highness joy: she looked in a delight and an alarm nearly equal. She was to dance her first minuet. Then followed the ladies of the bedchamber, and Lady Harcourt was particularly civil. Then the maids of honour, every one of whom knew and spoke to us. I peered vainly for the Duke of Clarence, but none of the princes passed us.[341] What a crowd brought up the rear! I was vexed not to see the Prince of Wales.
Well, God bless the king! and many and many such days may he know!
I was now so tired as to be eager to go back; but the queen’s philosopher, the good and most sober and temperate of men, was really a little giddy with all his bumpers, and his eyes, which were quite lustrous, could not fix any object steadily; while the poor gentleman-usher—equerry, I mean—kept his Mouth so wide open with one continued grin,-I suppose from the sparkling beverage,—that I was every minute afraid its pearly ornaments, which never fit their case, would have fallen at our feet. Mrs. Stainforth gave me a significant look of making the same observation, and, catching me fast by the arm, said, “Come, Miss Burney, let’s you and I take care of one another”; and then she safely toddled me back to Mrs. Schwellenberg, who greeted us with saying, “Vell! bin you Much amused? Dat Prince Villiam—oders de Duke de Clarrence—bin raelly ver merry—oders vat you call tipsy!”