9 February 1789 – 15 February 1789

I now walk on the road-side, along the park-wall, every fair morning, as I shall venture no more into either of the gardens. In returning this morning, I was overtaken by Mr. Fairly, who rode up to me, and, dismounting, gave his horse to his groom, to walk on with me. About two hours after I was, however, surprised by a visit from him in my own room, He came, he said, only to ask me a second time how I did, as he should be here now less and less, the king’s amendment rendering his services of smaller and smaller importance. He brought me a new political parody of Pope’s “Eloisa to Abelard,” from Mr. Eden to Lord Hawkesbury. It is a most daring, though very clever imitation. It introduces many of the present household. Mrs. Schwellenberg is now in eternal abuse from all these scribblers; Lady Harcourt, and many others, less notorious to their attacks, are here brought forward. How infinitely licentious!

The amendment of the king is progressive, and without any reasonable fear, though not without some few drawbacks. The Willis family were surely sent by heaven to restore peace, and health, and prosperity to this miserable house. Lady Charlotte Finch called upon me two days ago, almost purposely, to inquire concerning the report of my young friend’s marriage; and she made me promise to acquaint her when I received any further news: at noon, therefore, I went to her apartment at the Prince of Wales’s, with this information. Mr. Fairly, I knew, was with the equerries in our lodge. Lady Charlotte had the Duchess of Beaufort and all the Fieldings with her, and therefore I only left a message, by no means, feeling spirits for encountering any stranger. At noon, when I attended her majesty, she inquired if I had walked?—Yes.—Where?—In Richmond gardens.—And nowhere else?—No. She looked thoughtful,—and presently I recollected my intended visit to Lady Charlotte, and mentioned it. She cleared up, and said, “O!—you. went to Lady Charlotte?” “Yes, ma’am,” I answered, thinking her very absent,—which I thought with sorrow, as that is so small a part of her character, that I know not I ever saw any symptom of it before. Nor, in fact, as I found afterwards, did I see it now. It was soon explained. Miss Gomme, Mlle. Montmoulin, and Miss Planta, all dined with Mrs. Schwellenberg to-day. The moment I joined them, Mrs. Schwellenberg called out,—“Pray, Miss Berner, for what visit you the gentlemen?” “Me?” “Yes, you,—and for what, I say?" Amazed, I declared I did not know what she meant. “O,” cried she, scoffingly, “that won’t not do!—we all saw you,—princess royal the same,—so don’t not say that.” I stared,-and Miss Gomme burst out in laughter, and then Mrs. Schwellenberg added,—“For what go you over to the Prince of Wales his house?—nobody lives there but the gentlemen,—nobody others.” I laughed too, now, and told her the fact. “O,” cried she, “Lady Charlotte!—ver true. I had forgot Lady Charlotte!” “O, very well, imagine,” cried I,—“so only the gentlemen were remembered!” I then found this had been related to the queen; and Mlle. Montmoulin said she supposed the visit had been to General Gordon!—He is the groom now in waiting. Then followed an open raillery from Mlle. Montmoulin of Mr. Fairly’s visits; but I stood it very well, assuring her I should never seek to get rid of my two prison-visitors, Mr. Smelt and Mr. Fairly, till I Could replace them by better, or go abroad for others.

The king is infinitely better. O that there were patience in the land! and this Regency Bill postponed. Two of the princesses regularly, and in turn, attend their royal mother in her evening visits to the king. Some of those who stay behind now and then spend the time in Mrs. Schwellenberg’s room. They all long for their turn of going to the king, and count the hours till it returns. Their dutiful affection is truly beautiful to behold. This evening the Princesses Elizabeth and Mary came into Mrs. Schwellenberg’s room while I was yet there. They sang songs in two parts all the evening, and vary prettily in point of voice. Their good humour, however, and inherent condescension and sweetness of manners, would make a much worse performance pleasing.