TYRANNICAL MRS. SCHWELLENBERG.
Nov. 27-I had a terrible journey indeed to town, Mrs. Schwellenberg finding it expedient to have the glass down on my side, whence there blew in a sharp wind, which so painfully attacked my eyes that they were inflamed even before we-arrived in town.
Mr. de Luc and Miss Planta both looked uneasy, but no one durst speak; and for me, it was among the evils that I can always best bear yet before the evening I grew so ill that I could not propose going to Chelsea, lest I should be utterly unfitted for Thursday’s drawing-room.
The next day, however, I received a consolation that has been some ease to my mind ever since. My dear father spent the evening with me, and was so incensed at the state of my eyes, which were now as piteous to behold as to feel, and at the relation of their usage, that he charged me, another time, to draw up my ‘glass in defiance of all opposition, and to abide by all consequences, since my place was wholly immaterial when put in competition with my health.
I was truly glad of this permission to rebel, and it has given Me an internal hardiness in all similar assaults, that has at least relieved my mind from the terror of giving mortal offence where most I owe implicit obedience, should provocation overpower my capacity of forbearance.
When we assembled to return to Windsor, Mr. de Luc was in real consternation at sight of my eyes; and I saw an indignant glance at my coadjutrix, that could scarce content itself without being understood. Miss Planta ventured not at such a glance, but a whisper broke out, as we were descending the stairs, expressive of horror against the same poor person—poor person indeed—to exercise a power productive only of abhorrence, to those who view as well as to those who feel it!
Some business of Mrs. Schwellenberg’s occasioned a delay of the journey, and we all retreated back; and when I returned to my room, Miller, the old head housemaid, came to me, with a little neat tin saucepan in her hand, saying, “Pray, ma’am, use this for your eyes; ’tis milk and butter, much as I used to make for Madame Haggerdorn when she travelled in the winter with Mrs. Schwellenberg.”
Good heaven! I really shuddered when she added, that all that poor woman’s misfortunes with her eyes, which, from inflammation after inflammation, grew nearly blind, were attributed by herself to these journeys, in which she was forced to have the glass down at her side in all weathers, and frequently the glasses behind her also! Upon my word this account of my predecessor was the least exhilarating intelligence I could receive! Goter told me, afterwards, that all the servants in the house had remarked I was going just the same way!
Miss Planta presently ran into my room, to say she had hopes we should travel without this amiable being; and she had left me but a moment when Mrs. Stainforth succeeded her, exclaiming, “O, for heaven’s sake, don’t leave her behind; for heaven’s sake, Miss Burney, take her with you!”
‘Twas impossible not to laugh at these opposite’ interests, both, from agony of fear, breaking through all restraint. Soon after, however, we all assembled again, and got into the coach. Mr.’ de Luc, who was my vis-a-vis, instantly pulled up the glass.
“Put down that glass!” was the immediate order.
He affected not to hear her, and began conversing. She enraged quite tremendously, calling aloud to be obeyed without delay. He looked compassionately at me, and shrugged his shoulders, and said, “But, ma’am-”
“Do it, Mr. de Luc, when I tell you! I will have it! When you been too cold, you might bear it!”
“It is not for me, ma’am, but poor Miss Burney.”
“O, poor Miss Burney might bear it the same! put it down, Mr. de Luc! without, I will get out! put it down, when I tell you! It is my coach! I will have it selfs! I might go alone in it, or with one, or with what you call nobody, when I please!”
Frightened for good Mr. de Luc, and the more for being much obliged to him, I now interfered, and begged him to let down the glass. Very reluctantly he complied, and I leant back in the coach, and held up my muff to my eyes. What a journey ensued! To see that face when lighted up with fury is a sight for horror! I was glad to exclude it by my muff.
Miss Planta alone attempted to speak. I did not think it incumbent on me to “make the agreeable,” thus used; I was therefore wholly dumb: for not a word, not an apology, not one expression of being sorry for what I suffered, was uttered. The most horrible ill-humour, violence, and rudeness, were all that were shown. Mr. de Luc was too much provoked to take his usual method of passing all off by constant talk and as I had never seen him venture to appear provoked before, I felt a great obligation to his kindness. When we were about half way, we stopped to water the horses. He then again pulled up the glass, as if from absence. A voice of fury exclaimed, “Let it down! without I won’t go!”
“I am sure,” cried he, “all Mrs. de Luc’s plants will be killed by this frost For the frost was very severe indeed.”
Then he proposed my changing places with Miss Planta, who sat opposite Mrs. Schwellenberg, and consequently on the sheltered side. “Yes!” cried Mrs. Schwellenberg, “MISS Burney might sit there, and so she ought!”
I told her, briefly, I was always sick in riding backwards.
“O, ver well! when you don’t like it, don’t do it. You might bear it when you like it? what did the poor Haggerdorn bear it! when the blood was all running down from her eyes!”
This was too much! “I must take, then,” I cried, “the more warning!” After that I spoke not a word. I ruminated all the rest of the way upon my dear father’s recent charge and permission. I was upon the point continually of availing myself of both, but alas! I felt the deep disappointment I should give him, and I felt the most cruel repugnance to owe a resignation to a quarrel.
These reflections powerfully forbade the rebellion to which this unequalled arrogance and cruelty excited me; and after revolving them again and again, I accepted a bit of cake which she suddenly offered me as we reached Windsor, and determined, since I submitted to my monastic destiny from motives my serious thoughts deemed right, I would not be prompted to oppose it from mere feelings of resentment to one who, strictly, merited only contempt....
I gulped as well as I could at dinner; but all civil fits are again over. Not a word was said to me: yet I was really very ill all the afternoon; the cold had seized my elbows, from holding them up so long, and I was stiff and chilled all over.
In the evening, however, came my soothing Mrs. Delany. Sweet soul! she folded me in her arms, and wept over my shoulder! Too angry to stand upon ceremony she told Mrs. Schwellenberg, after our public tea, she must retire to my room, that she might speak with me alone. This was highly resented, and I was threatened, afterwards, that she would come to tea no more, and we might talk our secrets always.
Mr. de Luc called upon me next morning, and openly avowed his indignation, protesting it was an oppression he could not bear to see used, and reproving me for checking him when he would have run all risks. I thanked him most cordially; but assured him the worst of all inflammations to me was that of a quarrel, and I entreated him, therefore, not to interfere. But we have been cordial friends from that time forward.
Miss Planta also called, kindly bringing me some eye-water, and telling me she had “Never so longed to beat anybody in her life; and yet, I assure you,” she added, “everybody remarks that she behaves, altogether, better to you than to any body!”
O heavens!