The Dodd Family Abroad, Vol. II
by Charles Lever · English · Gutenberg #35442 · 606,651 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Dodd Family Abroad, Vol. II
Author: Charles Lever
Illustrator: Hablot Knight Browne
W. Cubitt Cooke
Release date: March 1, 2011 [eBook #35442]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35442
Credits: Produced by David Widger
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DODD FAMILY ABROAD, VOL. II ***
Produced by David Widger
THE DODD FAMILY ABROAD
By Charles James Lever
Volume II.
LETTER I. KENNY JAMES DODD TO THOMAS PURCELL, ESQ., OF THE GRANGE, BRUFF
Constance.
My dear Tom,--I got the papers all safe. I am sure the account is
perfectly correct. I only wish the balance was bigger. I waited here to
receive these things, and now I discover that I can't sign the warrant
of attorney except before a consul, and there is none in this place,
so that I must keep it over till I can find one of those pleasant
functionaries,--a class that between ourselves I detest heartily. They
are a presumptuous, under-bred, consequential race,--a cross between
a small skipper and smaller Secretary of Legation, with a mixture
of official pedantry and maritime off-handedness that is perfectly
disgusting. Why our reforming economists don't root them all out I
cannot conceive. Nobody wants, nobody benefits by them; and save that
you are now and then called on for a "consular fee," you might never
hear of their existence.
I don't rightly understand what you say about the loan from that Land
Improvement Society. Do you mean that the money lent must be laid out on
the land as a necessary condition? Is it possible that this is what I am
to infer? If so, I never heard anything half so preposterous! Sure, if I
raise five hundred pounds from a Jew, he has no right to stipulate that
I must spend the cash on copper coal-scuttles or potted meats! I want
it for my own convenience; enough for him that I comply with his demands
for interest and repayment. Anything else would be downright tyranny and
oppression, Tom,--as a mere momentary consideration of the matter will
show you. At all events, let us get the money, for I 'd like to contest
the point with these fellows; and if ever there was a man heart and
soul determined to break down any antiquated barrier of cruelty or
domination, it is your friend Kenny Dodd! As to that printed paper, with
its twenty-seven queries, it is positive balderdash from beginning
to end. What right have they to conclude that I approve of subsoil
draining? When did I tell them that I believed in Smith of Deanstown?
Where is it on record that I gave in my adhesion to model cottages,
Berkshire pigs, green crops, and guano manure? In what document do these
appear? Maybe I have my own notions on these matters,--maybe I keep them
for my own guidance too!
You say that the gentry is all changing throughout the whole land, and
I believe you well, Tom Purcell. Changed indeed must they be if they
subscribe to such preposterous humbug as this! At all events, I repeat
we want the money, so fill up the blanks as you think best, and remit me
the amount at your earliest, for I have barely enough to get to the end
of the present month. I don't dislike this place at all. It is quiet,
peaceful,--humdrum, if you will; but we've had more than our share of
racket and row lately, and the reclusion is very grateful. One day is
exactly like another with us. Lord George--for he is back again--and
James go a-fishing as soon as breakfast is over, and only return for
supper. Mary Anne reads, writes, sews, and sings. Mrs. D. fills up the
time discharging Betty, settling with her, searching her trunks for
missing articles, and being reconciled to her again, which, with
occasional crying fits and her usual devotions, don't leave her a single
moment unoccupied! As for me, I'm trying to learn German, whenever I'm
not asleep. I've got a master,--he is a Swiss, and maybe his accent
is not of the purest; but he is an amusing old vagabond,--an
umbrella-maker, but in his youth a travelling-servant. His time is not
very valuable to him, so that he sits with me sometimes for half a day;
but still I make little progress. My notion is, Tom, that there's no use
in either making love or trying a new language after you're five or six
and twenty. It's all up-hill work after that, believe me. Neither your
declensions nor declarations come natural to you, and it's a bungling
performance at the best. The first condition of either is to have
your head perfectly free,--as little in it as need be. So long as
your thoughts are jostled by debts, duns, mortgages, and marriageable
daughters, you 'll have no room for vows or irregular verbs! It's lucky,
however, that one can dispense both with the love and the learning,
and indeed of the two,--with the last best, for of all the useless,
unprofitable kinds of labor ever pursued out of a jail, acquiring
a foreign language is the most. The few words required for daily
necessaries, such as schnaps and cigars, are easily learnt; all beyond
that is downright rubbish.
For what can a man express his thoughts in so well as his mother tongue?
with whom does he want to talk but his countrymen? Of course you come
out with the old cant about "intelligent natives," "information derived
at the fountain head," "knowledge obtained by social intimacy with
people of the country." To which I briefly reply, "It's all gammon
and stuff from beginning to end;" and what between _your_ blunders in
grammar and your informant's ignorance of fact, all such information is
n't worth a "trauneen." Now, once for all, Tom, let me observe to
you that ask what you will of a foreigner, be it an inquiry into the
financial condition of his country, its military resources, prison
discipline, law, or religion, he 'll never acknowledge his inability to
answer, but give you a full and ready reply, with facts, figures, dates,
and data, all in most admirable order. At first you are overjoyed with
such ready resources of knowledge. You flatter yourself that even
with the most moderate opportunities you cannot fail to learn much; by
degrees, however, you discover errors in your statistics, and at last,
you come to find out that your accomplished friend, too polite to deny
you a reasonable gratification, had gone to the pains of inventing a
code, a church, and a coinage for your sole use and benefit, but without
the slightest intention of misleading, for it never once entered his
head that you could possibly believe him! I know it will sound badly.
I am well aware of the shock it will give to many a nervous system; but
for all that I will not blink the declaration--which I desire to record
as formally and as flatly as I am capable of expressing it--which is,
that of one hundred statements an Englishman accepts and relies upon
abroad, as matter of fact, ninety-nine are untrue; full fifty being lies
by premeditation, thirty by ignorance, ten by accident or inattention,
and the remainder, if there be a balance, for I 'm bad at figures, from
any other cause you like.
It is no more disgrace for a foreigner not to tell the truth than to
own that he does not sing, nor dance the mazurka; not so much, indeed,
because these are marks of a polite education. And yet it is to
hold conversation with these people we pore over dictionaries, and
Ollendorfs, and Hamiltonian gospels. As for the enlargement and
expansion of the intelligence that comes of acquiring languages, there
never was a greater fallacy. Look abroad upon your acquaintances: who
are the glib linguists, who are the faultless in French genders, and the
immaculate in German declensions? the flippant boarding-school miss, or
the brainless, unpaid attache, that cannot, compose a note in his own
language. Who are the bungling conversera that make drawing-rooms blush
and dinner-tables titter? Your first-rate debater in the Commons, your
leader at the bar, your double first, or your great electro-magnetic
fellow that knows the secret laws of water-spouts and whirlpools, and
can make thunder and lightning just to amuse himself. Take my word for
it, your linguist is as poor a creature as a dancing-master, and just as
great a formalist.
If you ask me, then, why I devote myself to such unrewarding labor, I
answer, "It is true I know it to be so, but my apology is, that I make
no progress." No, Tom, I never advance a step. I can neither conjugate
nor decline, and the auxiliary verbs will never aid me in anything. So
far as my lingual incapacity goes, I might be one of the great geniuses
of the age; and very probably I am, too, without knowing it!
I have little to tell you of the place itself. It is a quaint old town
on the side of the lake; the most remarkable object being the minster,
or cathedral. They show you the spot in the aisle where old Huss stood
to receive his sentence of death. Even after a lapse of centuries, there
was something affecting to stand where a man once stood to bear that he
was to be burned alive. Of course I have little sympathy with a heretic,
but still I venerate the martyr, the more since I am strongly disposed
to think that it is one of those characters which are not the peculiar
product of an age of railroads and submarine telegraphs. The expansion
of the intelligence, Tom, seems to be in the inverse ratio of the
expansion of the conscience, and the stubborn old spirit of right that
was once the mode, would nowadays be construed into a dogged, stupid
bull-headedness, unworthy of the enlightenment of our glorious era.
Take my word for it, there's a great many eloquent and indignant
letter-writers in the newspapers would shrink from old Huss's test for
their opinions, and a fossil elk is not a greater curiosity than would
be a man ready to stake life on his belief. When a fellow tells you of
"dying on the floor of the House," he simply means that he'll talk till
there's a "count out;" and as for "registering vows in heaven," and
"wasting out existence in the gloom of a dungeon," it's just balderdash,
and nothing else.
The simple fact is this, Tom Purcell: we live in an age of universal
cant, and I swallow all _your_ shams on the easy condition that you
swear to _mine_, and whenever I hear people praising the present age,
and extolling its wonderful progress, and all that, I just think of all
the quackery I see advertised in the newspapers, and sigh heartily to
myself at our degradation! Why, man, the "Patent Pills for the Cure of
Cancer," and the Agapemone, would disgrace the middle ages! And it is
not a little remarkable that England, so prone to place herself at the
head of civilization, is exactly the very metropolis of all this humbug!
To come back to ourselves, I have to report that James arrived here a
couple of days ago. He followed that scoundrel "the Baron" for thirty
hours, and only desisted from the pursuit when his horse could go no
farther. The police authorities mainly contributed to the escape of the
fugitive, by detaining James on every possible occasion, and upon any
or no pretext. The poor fellow reached Freyburg dead beat, and without a
sou in his pocket; but good luck would have it that Lord George Tiverton
had just arrived there, so that by his aid he came on here, where they
both made their appearance at breakfast on Tuesday morning.
Lord George, I suspect, had not made a successful campaign of it lately;
though in what he has failed--if it be failure--I have no means of
guessing. He looks a little out at elbows, however, and travels without
a servant. In spirits and bearing I see no change in him; but these
fellows, I have remarked, never show depression, and india-rubber
itself is not so elastic as a bad character! I don't half fancy his
companionship for James; but I know well that this opinion would be
treated by the rest of the family as downright heresy; and certainly he
is an amusing dog, and it is impossible to resist liking him; but there
lies the very peril I am afraid of. If your loose fish, as the
slang phrase calls them, were disagreeable chaps,--prosy, selfish,
sententious,--vulgar in their habits, and obtrusive in their manners,
one would run little risk of contamination; but the reverse is the case,
Tom,--the very reverse! Meet a fellow that speaks every tongue of the
Continent, dresses to perfection, rides and drives admirably, a dead
shot with the pistol, a sure cue at billiards,--if he be the delight of
every circle he goes into,--look out sharp in the "Times," and the odds
are that there's a handsome reward offered for him, and he's either
a forger or a defaulter. The truth is, a man may be ill-mannered as a
great lawyer or a great physician; he may make a great figure in
the field or the cabinet; there may be no end to his talents as a
geometrician or a chemist; it's only your adventurer must be well-bred,
and swindling is the soldiery profession to which a man must bring
fascinating manners, a good address, personal advantages, and the power
of pleasing. I own to you, Tom Purcell, I like these fellows, and
I can't help it! I take to them as I do to twenty things that are
agreeable at the time, but are sure to disagree with me--afterwards.
They rally me out of my low spirits, they put me on better terms with
myself, and they administer that very balmy flattery that says, "Don't
distress yourself, Kenny Dodd. As the world goes, you 're better than
nine-tenths of it. You'd be hospitable if you could; you'd pay your
debts if you could; and there would n't be an easier-tempered, more
good-natured creature breathing than yourself, if it was only the will
was wanting!" Now, these are very soothing doses when a man is scarified
by duns, and flayed alive by lawsuits; and when a fellow comes to my
time of life, he can no more bear the candid rudeness of what is called
friendship than an ex-Lord Mayor could endure Penitentiary diet!
I must confess, however, that whenever we come to divide on any
question, Lord George always votes with Mrs. D. He told me once that
with respect to Parliament he always sided with the Government, whatever
it was, when he could, and perhaps he follows the same rule in private
life. Last night, after tea, we discussed our future movements, and I
found him strongly in favor of getting us on to Italy for the winter.
I did n't like to debate the matter exactly on financial grounds, but I
hazarded a half-conjecture that the expedition would be a costly one.
He stopped me at once. "Up to this time," said he, "you have really not
benefited by the cheapness of Continental living,"--that was certainly
true,--"and for this simple reason, you have always lived in the beaten
track of the wandering cockney. You must go farther away from England.
You must reach those places where people settle as residents, not ramble
as tourists; you will then be rewarded, not only economically, but
socially. The markets and the morals are both better; for our countrymen
filter by distance, and the farther from home the purer they become."
To Mrs. D. and Mary Anne he gave a glowing description of Trans-Alpine
existence, and rapturously pictured forth the fascinations of Italian
life. I can only give you the items, Tom; you must arrange them for
yourself. So make what you can of starry skies, olives, ices, tenors,
volcanoes, music, mountains, and maccaroni. He appealed to _me_ by the
budget. Never was there such cheapness in the known world. The Italian
nobility were actually crashed down with house-accommodation, and only
entreated a stranger to accept of a palace or a villa. The climate
produced everything without labor, and consequently without cost. Fruit
had no price; wine was about twopence a bottle; a strong tap rose to
two and a half! Clothes one scarcely needed; and, except for decency,
"nothing and a cocked hat" would suffice. These were very seductive
considerations, Tom; and I own to you that, even allowing a large margin
for exaggeration, there was a great amount of solid advantage remaining.
Mrs. D. adduced an additional argument when we were alone, and in this
wise: What was to be done with the wedding finery if we should return
to Ireland; for all purposes of home life they would be totally
inapplicable. You might as well order a service of plate to serve up
potatoes as introduce Paris fashions and foreign elegance into our
provincial circle. "We have the things now," said she; "let us have the
good of them." I remember a cask of Madeira being left with my father
once, by a mistake, and that was the very reason he gave for drinking
it. She made a strong case of it, Tom; she argued the matter well,
laying great stress upon the duty we owed our girls, and the necessity
of "getting them married before we went back." Of course, I did n't
give in. If I was to give her the notion that she could convince me
of anything, we 'd never have a moment's peace again; so I said I 'd
reflect on the subject, and turn it over in my mind. And now I want you
to say what disposable cash can we lay our hands on for the winter. I
am more than ever disinclined to have anything to say to these Drainage
Commissioners. It's our pockets they drain, and not our farms. I 'd
rather try and raise a trifle on mortgage; for you see, nowadays, they
have got out of the habit of doing it, and there's many a one has money
lying idle and does n't know what to do with it. Look out for one of
these fellows, Tom, and see what you can do with him. Dear me, is n't it
a strange thing the way one goes through life, and the contrivances one
is put to to make two ends meet!
I remember the time, and so do you too, when an Irish gentleman could
raise what he liked; and there was n't an estate in my own county wasn't
encumbered, as they call it, to more than double its value. There's
fellows will tell you "that's the cause of all the present distress."
Not a bit of it. They 're all wrong! It is because that system has come
to an end that we are ruined; that's the root of the evil, Tom Purcell;
and if I was in Parliament I'd tell them so. Where will you find any one
willing to lend money now if the estate would n't pay it? We may thank
the English Government for that; and, as poor Dan used to say, "They
know as much about us as the Chinese!"
I can't answer your question about James. Vickars has not replied to my
last two letters; and I really see no opening for the boy whatever. I
mean to write, however, in a day or two to Lord Muddleton, to whom Lord
George is nearly related, and ask for something in the Diplomatic way.
Lord G. says it's the only career nowadays does n't require some kind of
qualification,--since even in the army they've instituted a species of
examination. "Get him made an Attache somewhere," says Tiverton, "and
he must be a 'Plenipo' at last." J. is good-looking, and a great deal of
dash about him; and I 'm informed that's exactly what's wanting in the
career. If nothing comes of this application, I 'll think seriously
of Australia; but, of course, Mrs. D. must know nothing about it; for,
according to _her_ notions, the boy ought to be Chamberlain to the
Queen, or Gold-stick at least.
I don't know whether I mentioned to you that Betty Cobb had entered the
holy bonds with a semi-civilized creature she picked up in the Black
Forest. The orang-outang is now a part of our household,--at least so
far as living at rack and manger at my cost,--though in what way to
employ him I have not the slightest notion. Do you think, if I could
manage to send him over to Ireland, that we could get him indicted
for any transportable offence? Ask Curtis about it; for I know he
did something of the kind once in the case of a natural son of Tony
Barker's, and the lad is now a judge, I believe, in Sydney.
Cary is quite well. I heard from her yesterday, and when I write, I 'll
be sure to send her your affectionate message. I don't mean to leave
this till I heat from you. So write immediately and believe me,
Very sincerely your friend,
Kenny James.
LETTER II. JAMES DODD TO ROBERT DOOLAN, ESQ., TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN.
Bregenz.
My dear Bob,--I had made up my mind not to write to you till we had
quitted this place, where our life has been of the "slowest;" but this
morning has brought a letter with a piece of good news which I cannot
defer imparting to you. It is a communication from the Under-Secretary
for Foreign Affairs to the governor, to say that I have been appointed
to something somewhere, and that I am to come over to London, and be
examined by somebody. Very vague all this, but I suppose it's the
style of Diplomacy, and one will get used to it. The real bore is the
examination, for George told "dad" that there was none, and, in fact,
that very circumstance it was which gave the peculiar value to the
"service." Tiverton tells me, however, he can make it "all safe;"
whether you "tip" the Secretary, or some of the underlings, I don't
know. Of course there is a way in all these things, for half the fellows
that pass are just as ignorant as your humble servant.
I am mainly indebted to Tiverton for the appointment, for he wrote to
everybody he could think of, and made as much interest as if it was
for himself. He tells me, in confidence, that the list of names down
is about six feet long, and actually wonders at the good fortune of my
success. From all I can learn, however, there is no salary at first, so
that the governor must "stump out handsome," for an Attache is expected
to live in a certain style, keep horses, and, in fact, come it "rayther
strongish." In some respects, I should have preferred the army; but
then there are terrible drawbacks in colonial banishment, whereas in
Diplomacy you are at least stationed in the vicinity of a Court, which
is always something.
I wonder where I am to be gazetted for; I hope Naples, but even Vienna
would do. In the midst of our universal joy at my good fortune, it's not
a little provoking to see the governor pondering over all it will cost
for outfit, and wondering if the post be worth the gold lace on the
uniform. Happily for me, Bob, he never brought me up to any profession,
as it is called, and it is too late now to make me anything either in
law or physic. I say happily, because I see plainly enough that he 'd
refuse the present opportunity if he knew of any other career for me.
My mother does not improve matters by little jokes on his low tastes and
vulgar ambitions; and, in fact, the announcement has brought a good deal
of discussion and some discord amongst us.
I own to you, frankly, that once named to a Legation, I will do my
utmost to persuade the governor to go back to Ireland. In the first
place, nothing but a very rigid economy at Dodsborough will enable him
to make me a liberal allowance; and secondly, to have my family
prowling about the Legation to which I was attached would be perfectly
insufferable. I like to have my father and mother what theatrical
folk call "practicable," that is, good for all efficient purposes of
bill-paying, and such-like; but I shudder at the notion of being their
pioneer into fashionable life; and, indeed, I am not aware of any one
having carried his parent on his back since the days of AEneas.
I am obliged to send you a very brief despatch, for I 'm off to-morrow
for London, to make my bow at "F. O.," and kiss hands on my appointment.
I 'd have liked another week here, for the fishing has just come in, and
we killed yesterday, with two rods, eleven large, and some thirty small
trout. They are a short, thick-shouldered kind of fish, ready enough
to rise, but sluggish to play afterwards. The place is pretty, too; the
Swiss Alps at one side, and the Tyrol mountains at the other. Bregenz
itself stands well, on the very verge of the lake, and although not
ancient enough to be curious in architecture, has a picturesque air
about it. The people are as primitive as anything one can well fancy,
and wear a costume as ungracefully barbarous as any lover of nationality
could desire. Their waists are close under their arms, and the longest
petticoats I have yet seen finish at the knee! They affect, besides,
a round, low-crowned cap, like a fur turban, or else a great piece of
filigree sliver, shaped like a peacock's tail, and fastened to the back
of the head. Nature, it must be owned, has been somewhat ungenerous to
them; and with the peculiar advantages conferred on them by costume,
they are the ugliest creatures I 've ever set eyes on.
It is only just to remark that Mary Anne dissents from me in all this,
and has made various "studies" of them, which are, after all, not a whit
more flattering than my own description. As to a good-looking peasantry,
Bob, it's all humbug. It's only the well-to-do classes, in any country,
have pretensions to beauty. The woman of rank numbers amongst her charms
the unmistakable stamp of her condition. Even in her gait, like the
Goddess in Virgil, she displays her divinity. The pretty "bourgeoise"
has her peculiar fascination in the brilliant intelligence of her
laughing eye, and the sly archness of her witty mouth; but your peasant
beauty is essentially heavy and dull. It is of the earth, earthy; and
there is a bucolic grossness about the lips the very antithesis to the
pleasing. I 'm led to these remarks by the question in your last as to
the character of Continental physiognomy. Up to this, Bob, I have seen
nothing to compare with our own people, and you will meet more pretty
faces between Stephen's Green and the Rotunda than between Schaffhausen
and the sea. I 'm not going to deny that they "make up" better abroad,
but our boast is the raw material of beauty. The manufactured article we
cannot dispute with them. It would be, however, a great error to suppose
that the artistic excellence I speak of is a small consideration; on the
contrary, it is a most important one, and well deserving of deep thought
and reflection, and, I must say, that all our failures in the decorative
arts are as nothing to our blunders when attempting to adorn beauty. A
French woman, with a skin like an old drumhead, and the lower jaw of a
baboon, will actually "get herself up" to look better than many a really
pretty girl of our country, disfigured by unbecoming hairdressing,
ill-assorted colors, ill-put-on clothes, and that confounded walk, which
is a cross between the stride of a Grenadier and running in a sack!
With all our parade of Industrial Exhibitions and shows of National
Productions lately, nobody has directed his attention to this subject,
and, for _my_ part, I 'd infinitely rather know that our female
population had imbibed some notions of dress and self-adornment from
their French neighbors, than that Glasgow could rival Genoa in velvet,
or that we beat Bohemia out of the field in colored glass. If the proper
study of mankind be man,--which, of course, includes woman,--we
are throwing a precious deal of time away on centrifugal pumps,
sewing-machines, and self-acting razors. If I ever get into Parliament,
Bob, and I don't see why I should not, when once fairly launched in the
Diplomatic line, I 'll move for a Special Commission, not to examine
into foreign railroads, or mines, or schools, or smelting-houses, but to
inquire into and report upon how the women abroad, with not a tenth of
the natural advantages, contrive to look,--I won't say better, but more
fascinating than our own,--and how it is that they convert something a
shade below plainness into features of downright pleasing expression!
Since this appointment has come, I have been working away to brush up my
French and German, which you will be surprised to hear is pretty
nearly where it was when we first came abroad. We English herd so
much together, and continue to follow our home habits and use our own
language wherever we happen to be, that it is not very easy to break
out of the beaten track. This observation applies only to the men of
the family, for our sisters make a most astonishing progress, under
the guidance of those mustachioed and well-whiskered gents they meet at
balls. The governor and my mother of course believe that I am as great
a linguist as Mezzofanti, if that be the fellow's name, and I shall try
and keep up the delusion to the last. It is not quite impossible I may
have more time for my studies here than I fancy, for "dad" has come
in, this moment, to say that he has n't got five shillings towards the
expenses of my journey to London, nor has he any very immediate prospect
of a remittance from Ireland. What a precious mess will it be if my
whole career in life is to be sacrificed for a shabby hundred or two!
The governor appears to have spent about three times as much as he
speculated on, and our affairs at this moment present as pleasant a
specimen of hopeless entanglement as a counsel in Bankruptcy could
desire.
I wish I was out of the ship altogether, Bob, and would willingly
adventure on the broad ocean of life in a punt, were it only my own. I
trust that by the time this reaches you her Majesty's gracious pleasure
will have numbered me amongst the servants of the Crown; but whether in
high or humble estate, believe me ever
Unalterably yours,
James Dodd.
P. S. My sister Cary has written to say she will be here to-night or
to-morrow; she is coming expressly to see me before I go; but from all
that I can surmise she need not have used such haste. What a bore it
will be if the governor should not be able to "stump out"! I'm in a
perfect fever at the very thought.
LETTER III. CAROLINE DODD TO MISS COX AT MISS MINCING'S ACADEMY, BLACK ROCK, IRELAND.
My dear Miss Cox,--It would appear, from your last, that a letter of
mine to you must have miscarried; for I most distinctly remember having
written to you on the topics you allude to, and, so far as I was able,
answered all your kind inquiries about myself and my pursuits. Lest my
former note should ever reach you, I do not dare to go over again the
selfish narrative which would task even your friendship to peruse once.
I remained with my kind friend, Mrs. Morris, till three days ago, when I
came here to see my brother James, who has been promised some Government
employment, and is obliged to repair at once to London. Mamma terrified
me greatly by saying that he was to go to China or to India, so that I
hurried back to see and stay with him as much as I could before he
left us. I rejoice, however, to tell you that his prospects are in the
Diplomatic service, and he will be most probably named to a Legation in
some European capital.
He is a dear, kind-hearted boy; and although not quite untainted by
the corruptions which are more or less inseparable from this rambling
existence, is still as fresh in his affections, and as generous in
nature, as when he left home. Captain Morris, whose knowledge of life
is considerable, predicts most favorably of him, and has only one
misgiving,--the close intimacy he maintains with Lord George Tiverton.
Towards this young nobleman the Captain expresses the greatest distrust
and dislike; feelings that I really own seem to me to be frequently
tinctured by a degree of prejudice rather than suggested by reason. It
is true, no two beings can be less alike than they are. The one, rigid
and unbending in all his ideas of right, listening to no compromise,
submitting to no expediency, reserved towards strangers even to the
verge of stiffness, and proud from a sense that his humble station might
by possibility expose him to freedoms he could not reciprocate. The
other, all openness and candor, pushed probably to an excess, and not
unfrequently transgressing the barrier of an honorable self-esteem;
without the slightest pretension to principle of any kind, and as ready
to own his own indifference as to ridicule the profession of it by
another. Yet, with all this, kind and generous in all his impulses, ever
willing to do a good-natured thing; and, so far as I can judge,
even prepared to bear a friendly part at the hazard of personal
inconvenience.
Characters of this stamp are, as you have often observed to me, far more
acceptable to very young men than those more swayed by rigid rules of
right; and when they join to natural acuteness considerable practical
knowledge of life, they soon obtain a great influence over the less
gifted and less experienced. I see this in James; for, though not by
any means blind to the blemishes in Lord George's character, nor even
indifferent to them, yet is he submissive to every dictate of his will,
and an implicit believer in all his opinions. But why should I feel
astonished at this? Is not his influence felt by every member of the
family; and papa himself, with all his native shrewdness, strongly
disposed to regard his judgments as wise and correct? I remark this
the more because I have been away from home, and after an absence one
returns with a mind open to every new impression; nor can I conceal from
myself that many of the notions I now see adopted and approved of, are
accepted as being those popular in high society, and not because of
their intrinsic correctness. Had we remained in Ireland, my dear Miss
Cox, this had never been the case. There is a corrective force in the
vicinity of those who have known us long and intimately, who can measure
our pretensions by our station, and pronounce upon our mode of life from
the knowledge they have of our condition; and this discipline, if at
times severe and even unpleasant, is, upon the whole, beneficial to us.
Now, abroad, this wholesome--shall I call it--"surveillance" is
wanting altogether, and people are induced by its very absence to give
themselves airs, and assume a style quite above them. From that very
moment they insensibly adopt a new standard of right and wrong, and
substitute fashion and conventionality for purity and good conduct. I
'm sure I wish we were back in Dodsborough with all my heart! It is not
that there are not objects and scenes of intense interest around us here
on every hand. Even I can feel that the mind expands by the variety of
impressions that continue to pour in upon it. Still, I would not say
that these things may not be bought too dearly; and that if the price
they cost is discontent at our lot in life, a craving ambition to be
higher and richer, and a cold shrinking back from all of our own real
condition, they are unquestionably not worth the sacrifice.
To really enjoy the Continent it is not necessary--at least, for people
bred and brought up as we have been--to be very rich; on the contrary,
many--ay, and the greatest--advantages of Continental travel are open
to very small fortunes and very small ambitions. Scenery, climate,
inexpensive acquaintanceship, galleries, works of art, public libraries,
gardens, promenades, are all available. The Morrises have certainly much
less to live on than we have, and yet they have travelled over every
part of Europe, know all its cities well, and never found the cost of
living considerable. You will smile when I tell you that the single
secret for this is, not to cultivate English society. Once make up your
mind abroad to live with the people of the country, French, German, and
Italian,--and there is no class of these above the reach of well-bred
English,--and you need neither shine in equipage nor excel in a cook.
There is no pecuniary test of respectability abroad; partly because this
vulgarity is the offspring of a commercial spirit, which is, of course,
not the general characteristic, and partly from the fact that many
of the highest names have been brought down to humble fortunes by
the accidents of war and revolution, and poverty is, consequently, no
evidence of deficient birth. Our gorgeous notions of hospitality are
certainly very fine things, and well become great station and large
fortune, but are ruinous when they are imitated by inferior means and
humble incomes. Foreigners are quite above such vulgar mimicry; and
nothing is more common to hear than the avowal, "I am too poor to
do this; my fortune would not admit of that;" not uttered in a mock
humility, or with the hope of a polite incredulity, but in all the
unaffected simplicity with which one mentions a personal fact, to which
no shame or disgrace attaches. You may imagine, then, how unimpressively
fall upon the ear all those pompous announcements by which we travelling
English herald our high and mighty notions; the palaces we are about to
hire, the _fetes_ we are going to give, and the other splendors we mean
to indulge in.
I have read and re-read that part of your letter wherein you speak of
your wish to come and live abroad, so soon as the fruits of your life of
labor will enable you. Oh, my dear kind governess, with what emotion the
words filled me,--emotions very different from those you ever suspected
they would call up; for I bethought me how often I and others must have
added to that toilsome existence by our indolence, our carelessness, and
our wilfulness. In a moment there rose before me the anxieties you must
have suffered, the cares you must have endured, the hopes for those
who threw all their burdens upon _you_, and left to _you_ the blame of
_their_ shortcomings and the reproach of _their_ insufficiency.
What rest, what repose would ever requite such labor! How delighted am
I to say that there are places abroad where even the smallest fortunes
will suffice. I profited by the permission you gave me to show your
letter to Mrs. Morris, and she gave me in return a list of places for
you to choose from, at any one of which you could live with comfort for
less than you speak of. Some are in Belgium, some in Germany, and some
in Italy. Think, for instance, of a small house on the "Meuse," in the
midst of the most beauteous scenery, and with a country teeming in every
abundance around you, for twelve pounds a year, and all the material of
life equally cheap in proportion. Imagine the habits of a Grand-Ducal
capital, where the Prime Minister receives three hundred per annum, and
spends two; where the admission to the theatre is fourpence, and you go
to a Court dinner on foot at four o'clock in the day, and sit out of an
evening with your work in a public garden afterwards.
Now, I know that in Ireland or Scotland, and perhaps in Wales too,
places might be discovered where all the ordinary wants of life would
not be dearer than here, but then remember that to live with this
economy at home, you subject yourself to all that pertains to a small
estate; you endure the barbarizing influences of a solitary life, or,
what is worse, the vulgarity of village society. The well-to-do classes,
the educated and refined, will not associate with you. Not so here. Your
small means are no barrier against your admission into the best circles;
you will be received anywhere. Your black silk gown will be "toilet" for
the "Minister's reception," your white muslin will be good enough for a
ball at Court! When the army numbers in its cavalry fifty hussars, and
one battalion for its infantry, the simple resident need never blush for
his humble retinue, nor feel ashamed that a maid-servant escorts him
to a Court entertainment with a lantern, or that a latch-key and a
lucifer-match do duty for a hall-porter and a chandelier!
One night--I was talking of these things--Captain Morris quoted a Latin
author to the effect "that poverty had no such heavy infliction as in
its power to make people ridiculous." The remark sounds at first an
unfeeling one, but there is yet a true and deep philosophy in it, for it
is in our own abortive and silly attempts to gloss over narrow fortune
that the chief sting of poverty resides, and the ridicule alluded to
is all of our making! The poverty of two thousand a year can be thus as
glaringly absurd, as ridiculous, as that of two hundred, and even more
so, since its failures are more conspicuous.
Now, had we been satisfied to live in this way, it is not alone that we
should have avoided debt and embarrassment, but we should really have
profited largely besides. I do not speak of the negative advantages of
not mingling with those it had been better to have escaped; but that in
the society of these smaller capitals there is, especially in Germany, a
highly cultivated and most instructive class, slightly pedantic, it
may be, but always agreeable and affable. The domesticity of Germany is
little known to us, since even their writers afford few glimpses of
it. There are no Bulwers nor Bozes nor Thackerays to show the play of
passion, nor the working of deep feeling around the family board and
hearth. The cares of fathers, the hopes of sons, the budding anxieties
of the girlish heart, have few chroniclers. How these people think and
act and talk at home, and in the secret circle of their families, we
know as little as we do of the Chinese. It may be that the inquiry would
require long and deep and almost microscopic study. Life with them is
not as with us, a stormy wave-tossed ocean; it is rather a calm and
landlocked bay. They have no colonial empires, no vast territories for
military ambition to revel in, nor great enterprise to speculate on.
There are neither gigantic schemes of wealth, nor gold-fields to tempt
them. Existence presents few prizes, and as few vicissitudes. The march
of events is slow, even, and monotonous, and men conform themselves to
the same measure! How, then, do they live,--what are their loves, their
hates, their ambitions, their crosses, their troubles, and their joys?
How are they moved to pity,--how stirred to revenge? I own to you I
cannot even fancy this. The German heart seems to me a clasped volume;
and even Goethe has but shown us a chance page or two, gloriously
illustrated, I acknowledge, but closed as quickly as displayed.
Is Marguerite herself a type? I wish some one would tell me. Is that
childlike gentleness, that trustful nature, that resistless, passionate
devotion, warring with her piety, and yet heightened by it,--are these
German traits? They seem so; and yet do these Fraeuleins that I see, with
yellow hair, appear capable of this headlong and impetuous love. Faust,
I 'm convinced, is true to his nationality. He loves like a German,--and
is mad, and mystical, fond, dreamy, and devoted by turns.
But all these are not what I look for. I want a family picture--a
Teerburgh or a Mieris--painted by a German Dickens, or touched by a
native Titmarsh. So far as I have read of it, too, the German Drama
does not fill up this void; the comedies of the stage present nothing
identical of the people, and yet it appears to me they are singularly
good materials for portraiture. The stormy incidents of university life,
its curious vicissitudes, and its strange, half-crazed modes of thought
blend into the quiet realities of after-life, and make up men such as
one sees nowhere else. The tinge of romance they have contracted in
boyhood is never thoroughly washed out of their natures, and although
statecraft may elevate them to be grave privy councillors, or good
fortune select them for its revenue officers, they cherish the old
memories of Halle and Heidelberg, and can grow valorous over the shape
of a rapier, or pathetic about the color of Fraeulein Lydchen's hair.
It is doubtless very presumptuous in _me_ to speak thus of a people of
whom I have seen so little; but bear in mind, my dear Miss Cox, that I'm
rather giving Mrs. Morris's experiences than my own, and, in some cases,
in her own very words. She has a very extensive acquaintance in Germany,
and corresponds, besides, with many very distinguished persons of that
country. Perhaps private letters give a better insight into the habits
of a people than most other things, and if so, one should pronounce very
favorably of German character from the specimens I have seen. There are
everywhere, great truthfulness, great fairness; a willingness to concede
to others a standard different from their own; a hopeful tone in all
things, and extreme gentleness towards women and children. Of rural
life, and of scenery, too, they speak with true feeling-; and, as Sir
Walter said of Goethe, "they understand trees."
You will wish to hear something of Bregenz, where we are staying at
present, and I have little to say beyond its situation in a little
bay on the Lake of Constance, begirt with high mountains, amidst which
stretches a level flat, traversed by the Rhine. The town itself is
scarcely old enough to be picturesque, though from a distance on the
lake the effect is very pleasing. A part is built upon a considerable
eminence, the ascent to which is by a very steep street, impassable save
on foot; at the top of this is an old gateway, the centre of which is
ornamented by a grotesque attempt at sculpture, representing a female
figure seated on a horse, and, to all seeming, traversing the clouds.
The phenomenon is explained by a legend, that tells how a Bregenzer
maiden, some three and a half centuries ago, had gone to seek her
fortune in Switzerland, and becoming domesticated there in a family,
lived for years among the natural enemies of her people. Having learned
by an accident one night, that an attack was meditated on her native
town, she stole away unperceived, and, taking a horse, swam the current
of the Rhine, and reached Bregenz in time to give warning of the
threatened assault, and thus rescued her kinsmen and her birthplace from
sack and slaughter. This is the act commemorated by the sculpture, and
the stormy waves of the river are doubtless typified in what seem to be
clouds.
There is, however, a far more touching memory of the heroism preserved
than this; for each night, as the watchman goes his round of the
village, when he comes to announce midnight, he calls aloud the name of
her who at the same dead hour, three centuries back, came to wake the
sleeping town and tell them of their peril. I do not know of a monument
so touching as this! No bust nor statue, no group of marble or bronze,
can equal in association the simple memory transmitted from age to age,
and preserved ever fresh and green in the hearts of a remote generation.
As one thinks of this, the mind at once reverts to the traditions of
the early Church, and insensibly one is led to feel the beauty of those
transmitted words and acts, which, associated with place, and bound up
with customs not yet obsolete, gave such impressive truthfulness to
all the story of our faith. At the same time, it is apparent that the
current of tradition cannot long run pure. Even now there are those who
scoff at the grateful record of the Bregenzer maiden! Where will her
memory be five years after the first railroad traverses the valley of
the Vorarlberg? The shrill whistle of the "express" is the death-note to
all the romance of life!
Some deplore this, and assert that, with this immense advancement of
scientific discovery, we are losing the homely virtues of our fathers.
Others pretend that we grow better as we grow wiser, and that increased
intelligence is but another form of enlarged goodness. To myself, the
great change seems to be that every hour of this progress diminishes the
influences of woman, and that, as men grow deeper and deeper engaged in
the pursuits of wealth, the female voice is less listened to, and its
counsels less heeded and cared for.
But why do I dare to hazard such conjectures to you, so far more capable
of judging, so much more able to solve questions like this!
I am sorry not to be able to speak more confidently about my music; but
although Germany is essentially the land of song, there is less domestic
cultivation of the art than I had expected; or, rather, it is made less
a matter of display. Your mere acquaintances seldom or never will sing
for your amusement; your friends as rarely refuse you. To our notions,
also, it seems strange that men are more given to the art here than
women. The Frau is almost entirely devoted to household cares. Small
fortunes and primitive habits seem to require this, and certainly no one
who has ever witnessed the domestic peace of a German family could find
fault with the system.
What has most struck me of all here, is the fact that while many of the
old people retain a freshness of feeling, and a warm susceptibility that
is quite remarkable, the children are uniformly grave, even to sadness.
The bold, dashing, half-reckless boy; the gay, laughing, high-spirited
girl,--have no types here. The season of youth, as we under-stand it,
in all its jocund merriment, its frolics, and its wildness, has no
existence amongst them. The child of ten seems weighted with the
responsibilities of manhood; the little sister carries her keys about,
and scolds the maids with all the semblance of maternal rigor. Would
that these liquid blue eyes had a more laughing look, and that pretty
mouth could open to joyous laughter!
With all these drawbacks, it is still a country that I love to live
in, and should leave with regret; besides that, I have as yet seen but
little of it, and its least remarkable parts.
Whither we go hence, and when, are points that I cannot inform you on.
I am not sure, indeed, if any determination on the subject has been come
to. Mamma and Mary Anne seem most eager for Rome and Naples; but though
I should anticipate a world of delight and interest in these cities, I
am disposed to think that they would prove far too expensive,--at least
with our present tastes and habits.
Wherever my destiny, however, I shall not cease to remember my dear
governess, nor to convey to her, in all the frankness of my affection,
every thought and feeling of her sincerely attached
Caroline Dodd.
LETTER IV. MRS. DODD TO MRS. MARY GALLAGHER, DODSBOROUGH
Bregenz.
My dear Molly,--It 's well I ever got your last letter, for it seems
there's four places called Freyburg, and they tried the three wrong
ones first, and I believe they opened and read it everywhere it stopped.
"Much good may it do them," says I, "if they did!" They know at
least the price of wool in Kinnegad, and what boneens is bringing in
Ballinasloe, not to mention the news you tell of Betty Walsh! I thought
I cautioned you before not to write anything like a secret when the
letter came through a foreign post, seeing that the police reads
everything, and if there's a word against themselves, you're ordered
over the frontier in six hours. That's liberty, my dear! But that is
not the worst of it, for nobody wants the dirty spalpeens to read about
their private affairs, nor to know the secrets of their families. I must
say, you are very unguarded in this respect, and poor Betty's mishap is
now known to the Emperor of Prussia and the King of Sweden, just as well
as to Father Luke and the Coadjutor; and as they say that these courts
are always exchanging gossip with each other, it will be back in England
by the time this reaches you. Let it be a caution to you in future,
or, if you must allude to these events, do it in a way that can't be
understood, as you may remark they do in the newspapers. I wish you
would n't be tormenting me about coming home and living among my own
people, as you call it. Let them pay up the arrears first Molly, before
they think of establishing any claim of the kind on your humble servant.
But the fact is, my dear, the longer you live abroad, the more you like
it; and going back to the strict rules and habits of England, after it,
is for all the world like putting on a strait-waistcoat. If you only
heard foreigners the way they talk of us, and we all the while thinking
ourselves the very pink of the creation!
But of all the things they're most severe upon is Sunday. The manner
we pass the day, according to their notions, is downright barbarism.
No diversion of any kind, no dancing, no theatres; shops shut up, and
nothing legal but intoxication. I always tell them that the fault isn't
ours, that it's the Protestants that do these things; for, as Father
Maher says, "they 'd put a bit of crape over the blessed sun if they
could." But between ourselves, Molly, even we Catholics are greatly
behind the foreigners on all matters of civilization. It may be out of
fear of the others, but really we don't enjoy ourselves at all like the
French or the Germans. Even in the little place I'm writing now, there's
more amusement than in a big city at home; and if there's anything I 'm
convinced of at all, Molly, it's this: that there is no keeping people
out of great wickedness except by employing them in small sins; and, let
me tell you, there's not a political economist that ever I heard of has
hit upon the secret.
We are all in good health, and except that K. I. is in one of his
habitual moods of discontent and grumbling, there's not anything
particular the matter with us. Indeed, if it was n't for his natural
perverseness of disposition, he ought n't to be cross and disagreeable,
for dear James has just been appointed to an elegant situation, on what
they call the "Diplomatic Service." When the letter first came, I was
almost off in a faint. I did n't know where it might be they might be
sending the poor child,--perhaps to Great Carey-o, or the Hy-menoal
Mountains of India; but Lord George says that it's at one of the great
Courts of Europe he's sure to be; and, indeed, with his figure and
advantages, that's the very thing to suit him. He's a picture of a
young man, and the very image of poor Tom McCarthy, that was shot at
Bally-healey the year of the great frost. If he does n't make a great
match, I 'm surprised at it; and the young ladies must be mighty
different in their notions from what I remember them, besides. Getting
him ready and fitting him out has kept us here; for whenever there's a
call upon K. I.'s right-hand pocket, he buttons up the left at once; so
that, till James is fairly off, there 's no hope for us of getting away
from this. That once done, however, I'm determined to pass the winter in
Italy. As Lord George says, coming abroad and not crossing the Alps,
is like going to a dinner-party and getting up after the "roast,"--
"you have all the solids of the entertainment, but none of the light and
elegant trifles that aid digestion, and engage the imagination."'It's
a beautiful simile, Molly, and very true besides; for, after all,
the heart requires more than mere material enjoyments! You 're maybe
surprised to bear that Lord G. is back here; and so was I to see him.
What his intentions are, I 'm unable to say; but it's surely Mary Anne
at all events; and as she knows the world well, I 'm very easy in my
mind about her. As I told K. I. last night, "Abuse the Continent as you
like, K. I., waste all your bad words about the cookery and the morals
and the light wines and women, but there 's one thing you can't deny to
it,--there's no falling in love abroad,--that I maintain!" And when
you come to think of it, I believe that's the real evil of Ireland.
Everybody there falls in love, and the more surely when they haven't
a sixpence to marry on! All the young lawyers without briefs, all the
young doctors in dispensaries, every marching lieutenant living on his
pay, every young curate with seventy pounds a year,--in fact,
Molly, every case of hopeless poverty,--all what the newspapers call
heartrending distress,--is sure to have a sweetheart! When you think of
the misery that it brings on a single family, you may imagine the ruin
that it entails on a whole country. And I don't speak in ignorance, Mrs.
Gallagher; I 've lived to see the misery of even a tincture of love in
my own unfortunate fate. Not that indeed I ever went far in my feelings
towards K. I., but my youth and inexperience carried me away; and see
where they 've left me! Now that's an error nobody commits abroad; and
as to any one being married according to their inclination, it's quite
unheard of; and if they have less love, they have fewer disappointments,
and that same is something!
Talking of marriage brings me to Betty,--I suppose I mustn't say Betty
Cobb, now that she calls herself the Frau Taddy. Hasn't she made a nice
business of it! "They're fighting," as K. I. says, "like man and wife,
already!" The creature is only half human; and when he has gorged
himself with meat and drink, he sometimes sleeps for twenty-four, or
maybe thirty hours; and if there's not something ready for him when he
wakes up, his passion is dreadful. I 'm afraid of my life lest K. I.
should see the bill for his food, and told the landlord only to put down
his four regular meals, and that I 'd pay the rest, which I have managed
to do, up to this, by disposing of K. I.'s wearing-apparel. And would
you believe it that the beast has already eaten a brown surtout, two
waistcoats, and three pairs of kerseymere shorts and gaiters, not to say
a spencer that he had for his lunch, and a mackintosh cape that he took
the other night before going to bed! Betty is always crying from his bad
usage, and consequently of no earthly use to any one; but if a word is
said against him, she flies out in a rage, and there's no standing her
tongue!
Maybe, however, it's all for the best; for without a little excitement
to my nervous system, I 'd have found this place very dull. Dr. Morgan
Moore, that knew the M'Carthy constitution better than any one living,
used to say, "Miss Jemima requires movement and animation;" and, indeed,
I never knew any place agree with me like the "Sheds" of Clontarf.
Mary Anne keeps telling me that this is now quite vulgar, and that your
people of first fashion are never pleased with anybody or anything;
and whenever a place or a party or even an individual is peculiarly
tiresome, she says, "Be sure, then, that it's quite the mode." That is
possibly the reason why Lord George recommends us passing a few weeks
on the Lake of Comus; and if it's the right thing to do, I 'm ready and
willing; but I own to you, Molly, I 'd like a little sociality, if it
was only for a change. At any rate, Comus is in Italy; and if we once
get there, it will go far with me if I don't see the Pope. I 'm obliged
to be brief this time, for the post closes here whenever the postmaster
goes to dinner; and to-day I 'm told he dines early. I 'll write you,
however, a full and true account of us all next week, till when, believe
me your ever affectionate and attached friend,
Jemima Dodd.
P. S. Mary Anne has just reconciled me to the notion of Comus. It is
really the most aristocratic place in Europe, and she remarks that it
is exactly the spot to make excellent acquaintances in for the ensuing
winter; for you see, Molly, that is really what one requires in summer
and autumn, and the English that live much abroad study this point
greatly. But, indeed, there's a wonderful deal to be learned before one
can say that they know life on the Continent; and the more I think
of it, the less am I surprised at the mistakes and blunders of our
travelling countrymen,--errors, I am proud to say, that we have escaped
up to this.
LETTER V. KENNY JAMES DODD TO THOMAS PURCELL, ESQ., OF THE GRANGE, BRUFF
Bregenz.
My dear Tom,--Although it is improbable I shall be able to despatch
this by the post of to-day, I take the opportunity of a few moments
of domestic peace to answer your last--I wish I could say
agreeable--letter. It is not that your intentions are not everything
that consists with rectitude and honor, or that your sentiments are not
always those of a right-minded man, but I beg to observe to you, Tom
Pur-cell, in all the candor of a five-and-forty years' friendship, that
you have about the same knowledge of life and the world that a toad has
of Lord Rosse's telescope.
We have come abroad for an object, which, whether attainable or not, is
not now the question; but if there be any prospect whatever of realizing
it,--confound the phrase, but I have no other at hand,--it is surely
by an ample and liberal style of living, such as shall place us on a
footing of equality with the best society, and make the Dodds eligible
anywhere.
I suppose you admit that much. I take it for granted that even bucolic
dulness is capable of going so far. Well, then, what do you mean by your
incessant appeals to "retrenchment" and "economy"? Don't you see that
you make yourself just as preposterous as Cobden, when he says, cut down
the estimates, reduce the navy, and dismiss your soldiers, but still
be a first-rate power. Tie your hands behind your back, but cry out,
"Beware of me, for I'm dreadful when I'm angry."
You quote me against myself; you bring up my old letters, like Hansard,
against me, and say that all our attempts have been failures; but
without calling you to order for referring "to what passed in another
place," I will reply to you on your own grounds. If we have failed, it
has been because our resources did not admit of our maintaining to the
end what we had begun in splendor,--that our means fell short of our
requirements,--that, in fact, with a well-chosen position and picked
troops, we lost the battle only for want of ammunition, having fired
away all our powder in the beginning of the engagement. Whose fault was
_that_, I beg to ask? Can the Commissary-General Purcell come clear out
of _that_ charge?
I know your hair-splitting habit; I at once anticipate your reply. An
agent and a commissary are two very different things! And just as flatly
I tell you, you are wrong, and that, rightly considered, the duties of
both are precisely analogous, and that a general commanding an army, and
an Irish landlord travelling on the Continent, present a vast number of
points of similitude and resemblance. In the one case as in the other,
supplies are indispensable; come what will, the forces must be fed,
and if it it would be absurd for the general to halt in his march and
inquire into all the difficulties of providing stores, it would be
equally preposterous for the landlord to arrest his career by going
into every petty grievance of his tenantry, and entering into a minute
examination of the state of every cottier on his laud. Send the rations,
Tom, and I 'll answer for the campaign. I don't mean to say that
there are not some hardships attendant upon this. I know that to raise
contributions an occasional severity must be employed; but is the
fate of a great engagement to be jeopardized for the sake of such
considerations? No, no, Tom. Even your spirit will recoil from such an
admission as this!
It is only fair to mention that these are not merely my own sentiments.
Lord George Tiverton, to whom I happened to show your letter, was
really shocked at the contents. I don't wish to offend you, Tom, but the
expression he used was, "It is fortunate for your friend Purcell that he
is not _my_ agent" I will not repeat what he said about the management
of English landed property, but it is obvious that our system is not
their system, and that such a thing as a landlord in _my_ position is
actually unheard of. "If Ireland were subject to earthquakes," said he,
"if the arable land were now and then covered over ten feet deep with
lava, I could understand your agent's arguments; but wanting these
causes, they are downright riddles to me."
He was most anxious to obtain possession of your letter; and I learned
from Mary Anne that he really meant to use it in the House, and show you
up bodily as one of the prominent causes of Irish misery. I have saved
you from this exposure, but I really cannot spare you some of the
strictures your conduct calls for.
I must also observe to you that there is what the Duke used to call "a
terrible sameness" about your letters. The potatoes are always going to
rot, the people always going to leave. It rains for ten weeks at a time,
and if you have three fine days you cry out that the country is
ruined by drought. Just for sake of a little variety, can't you take
a prosperous tone for once, instead of "drawing my attention," as you
superciliously phrase it, to the newspaper announcement about "George
Davis and other petitioners, and the lands of Ballyclough, Kiltimaon,
and Knocknaslat-tery, being part of the estates of James Kenny Dodd,
Esq., of Dodsborough." I have already given you my opinion about
that Encumbered Estates Court, and I see no reason for changing it.
Confiscation is a mild name for its operation. What Ireland really
wanted was a loan fund,--a good round sum, say three and a half or
four millions, lent out on reasonable security, but free from all
embarrassing conditions. Compel every proprietor to plant so many
potatoes for the use of the poor, and get rid of those expensive
absurdities called "Unions," with all the lazy, indolent officials; do
that, and we might have a chance of prospering once more.
It makes me actually sick to hear you, an Irishman born and bred,
repeating all that English balderdash about "a cheap and indisputable
title." and so forth. Do you remember about four-and-twenty years ago,
Tom, when I wanted to breach a place for a window in part of the old
house at Dodsborough, and Hackett warned me that if I touched a stone of
it I 'd maybe have the whole edifice come tumbling about my ears. Don't
you see the analogy between that and our condition as landlords, and
that our real security lay in the fact that nobody could dare to breach
us? Meddle with us once, and who could tell where the ruin would fall!
So long as the system lasted we were safe, Tom. Now, your Encumbered
Court, with its parliamentary title, has upset all that security; and
that's the reason of all the distress and misfortune that have overtaken
us.
I think, after the specimen of my opinions, I 'll hear no more of your
reproaches about my "growing indifference to home topics," my "apparent
apathy regarding Ireland," and other similar reflections in your
last letter. Forget my country, indeed! Does a man ever forget the
cantharides when he has a blister on his back? If I 'm warm, I 'm sorry
for it; but it 's your own fault, Tom Purcell. You know me since I was
a child, and understand my temper well; and whatever it was once, it
hasn't improved by conjugal felicity.
And now for the Home Office. James started last night for London, to
go through whatever formalities there may be before receiving his
appointment. What it is to be, or where, I have not an idea; but I cling
to the hope that when they see the lad, and discover his utter ignorance
on all subjects, it will be something very humble, and not requiring a
sixpence from me. All that I have seen of the world shows me that the
higher you look for your children the more they cost you; and for that
reason, if I had my choice, I 'd rather have him a gauger than in the
Grenadier Guards. Even as it is, the outfit for this journey has run
away with no small share of your late remittance, and now that we
have come to the end of the M'Carthy legacy,--the last fifty was
"appropriated" by James before starting,--it will require all the
financial skill you can command to furnish me with sufficient means for
our new campaign.
Yes, Tom, we are going to Italy. I have discussed the matter so long,
and so fully argued it in every shape, artistical, philosophical,
economical, and moral, that I verily believe that our dialogues would
furnish a very respectable manual to Trans-Alpine travellers; and if I
am not a convert to the views of my opponents, I am so far vanquished in
the controversy as to give in. Lord George put the matter, I must say,
very strongly before me. "To turn your steps homeward from the Alps,"
said he, "is like the act of a man who, having dressed for an evening
party and ascended the stairs, wheels round at the door of the
drawing-room, and quits the house. All your previous knowledge of the
Continent, so costly and so difficult to attain, is about at length to
become profitable; that insight into foreign life and habits which you
have arrived at by study and observation, is now about to be available.
Italy is essentially the land of taste, elegance, and refinement; and
there will all the varied gifts and acquirements of your accomplished
family be appreciated." Besides this, Tom, he showed me that the
"Snobs," as he politely designated them, are all "Cis-Alpine;" strictly
confining themselves to the Rhine and Switzerland, and never descending
the southern slopes of the Alps. According to his account, therefore,
the climate of Italy is not more marked by superiority than the tone of
its society. There all is polished, elegant, and refined; and if the
men be "not all brave, and the women all virtuous," it is because "their
moral standard is one more in accordance with the ancient traditions,
the temper, and the instincts of the people." I quote you his words
here, because very possibly they may be more intelligible to you than
to myself. At all events, one thing is quite clear,--we ought to go and
judge for ourselves, and to this resolve have we come. Tiverton--without
whom we should be actually helpless--has arranged the whole affair, and,
really, with a regard to economy that, considering his habits and his
station, can only be attributed to a downright feeling of friendship
for us. By a mere accident he hit upon a villa at Como, for a mere
trifle,--he won't tell me the sum, but he calls it a "nothing,"--and
now he has, with his habitual good luck, chanced upon a return carriage
going to Milan, the driver of which horses our carriage, and takes the
servants with him, for very little more than the keep of his beasts on
the road. This piece of intelligence will tickle every stingy fibre in
your economical old heart, and at last shall I know you to mutter, "K.
I. is doing the prudent thing."
Tiverton himself says, "It's not exactly the most elegant mode of
travelling; but as the season is early, and the Splugen a pass seldom
traversed, we shall slip down to Como unobserved, and save some forty
or fifty 'Naps.' without any one being the wiser." Mrs. D. would,
of course, object if she had the faintest suspicion that it was
inexpensive; but "my Lord," who seems to read her like a book, has told
her that it is the very mode in which all the aristocracy travel, and
that by a happy piece of fortune we have secured the vetturino that took
Prince Albert to Rome, and the Empress of Russia to Palermo!
He has, or he is to find, four horses for our coach, and three for
his own; we are to take the charge of bridges, barriers, rafts, and
"remounts," and give him, besides, five Napoleons _per diem_, and a
"buona mano," or gratuity, of three more, if satisfied, at the end of
the journey. Now, nothing could be more economical than this; for we are
a large party, and with luggage enough to fill a ship's jolly-boat.
You see, therefore, what it is to have a shrewd and intelligent friend.
You and I might have walked the main street of Bregenz till our shoes
were thin, before we discovered that the word "Gelegenheit," chalked up
on the back-leather of an old caleche, meant "A return conveniency to be
had cheap." The word is a German one, and means "Opportunity:" and ah!
my dear Tom, into what a strange channel does it entice one's thoughts!
What curious reflections come across the mind as we think of all our
real opportunities in this world, and how little we did of them! Not but
there might be a debit side to the account, too, and that some two or
three may have escaped us that it was just as well we let pass!
We intended to have left this to-morrow, but Mrs. D. won't travel on
a Friday. "It's an unlucky day," she says, and maybe she's right. If I
don't mistake greatly, it was on a Friday I was married; but of course
this is a reminiscence I keep to myself. This reminds me of the question
in your postscript, and to which I reply: "Not a bit of it; nothing of
the kind. So far as I see, Tiverton feels a strong attachment to James,
but never even notices the girls. I ought to add that this is not Mrs.
D.'s opinion; and she is always flouncing into my dressing-room, with
a new discovery of a look that he gave Mary Anne, or a whisper that he
dropped into Cary's ear. Mothers would be a grand element in a detective
police, if they did n't now and then see more than was in sight; but
that's their failing, Tom. The same generous zeal which they employ
in magnifying their husbands' faults helps them to many another
exaggeration. Now Mrs. D. is what she calls fully persuaded--in other
words, she has some shadowy suspicions--that Lord George has formed a
strong attachment to one or other of her daughters, the only doubtful
point being which of them is to be my Lady."
Shall I confess to you that I rather cherish the notion than seek to
disabuse her of it, and for this simple reason: whenever she is in
full cry after grandeur, whether in the shape of an acquaintance, an
invitation, or a match for the girls, she usually gives me a little
peace and quietness. The peerage, "God bless our old nobility," acts
like an anodyne on her.
I give you, therefore, both sides of the question, repeating once more
my own conviction that Lord G. has no serious intentions, to use the
phrase maternal, whatever. And now to your second query: If not, is it
prudent to encourage his intimacy? Why, Tom Purcell, just bethink you
for a moment, and see to what a strange condition would your theory, if
acted on, resolve all the inhabitants of the globe. Into one or other
category they must go infallibly. "Either they want to marry one of the
Dodds, or they don't." Now, though the fact is palpable enough, it is
for all purposes of action a most embarrassing one; and if I proceed to
make use of it, I shall either be doomed to very tiresome acquaintances,
or a life of utter solitude and desertion.
Can't a man like your society, your dinners, your port, your jokes, and
your cigars, but he must perforce marry one of your daughters? Is your
house to be like a rat-trap, and if a fellow puts his head in must he be
caught? I don't like the notion at all; and not the less that it rather
throws a slight over certain convivial gifts and agreeable qualities for
which, once upon a time at least, I used to have some reputation. As to
Tiverton, I like _him_, and I have a notion that he likes _me_, We suit
each other as well as it is possible for two men bred, born, and brought
up so perfectly unlike. We both have seen a great deal of the world, or
rather of two worlds, for _his_ is not _mine_. At the same time, every
remark he makes--and all his observations show me that mankind is
precisely the same thing everywhere, and that it is exactly with the
same interests, the same impulses, and the same passions my Lord bets
his thousands at "Crocky's" that Billy Healey or Father Tom ventures his
half-crown at the Pig and Pincers, in Bruff. I used to think that what
with races, elections, horse-fairs, and the like, I had seen my share of
rascality or roguery; but, compared to my Lord's experiences, I might be
a babe in the nursery. There is n't a dodge--not a piece of knavery that
was ever invented--he doesn't know. Trickery and deception of every kind
are all familiar to him, and, as he says himself, he only wants a few
weeks in a convict settlement to put the finish on his education.
You 'd fancy, from what I say, that he must be a cold, misanthropic,
suspectful fellow, with an ill-natured temper, and a gloomy view of
everybody and everything. Far from it, his whole theory of life is
benevolent; and his maxim, to believe every one honorable, trustworthy,
and amiable. I see the half-cynical smile with which you listen to this,
and I already know the remark that trembles on your lip. You would
say that such a code cuts both ways, and that a man who pronounces so
favorably of his fellows almost secures thereby a merciful verdict on
himself. In fact, that he who passes base money can scarcely refuse,
now and then, to accept a bad halfpenny in change. Well, Tom, I 'll not
argue the case with you, for if not myself a disciple of this creed,
I have learned to think that there are very few, indeed, who are
privileged to play censor upon their acquaintances, and that there is
always the chance that when you are occupied looking at your neighbor
drifting on a lee shore, you may bump on a rock yourself.
You said in your last that you thought me more lax than I used to be
about right and wrong,--"less strait-laced," you were polite enough to
call it; and with an equal urbanity you ascribed this change in me to
the habits of the Continent. I am proud to say "Guilty" to the charge,
and I believe you are right as to the cause. Yes, Tom, the tone of
society abroad is eminently merciful, and it must needs be a bad case
where there are no attenuating circumstances. So much the worse, say
you; where vice is leniently looked on, it will be sure to flourish. To
which I answer, Show me where it does not! Is it in the modern Babylon,
is it in moral Scotland, or drab-colored Washington? On my conscience, I
don't believe there is more of wickedness in a foreign city than a
home one; the essential difference being that we do wrong with a
consciousness of our immorality; whereas the foreigner has a strong
impression that after all it's only a passing frailty, and that human
nature was not ever intended to be perfect. Which system tends most to
corrupt a people, and which creates more hopeless sinners, I leave to
you, and others as fond of such speculations, to ponder over.
Another charge--for your letter has as many counts as an
indictment--another you make against me is that I seem as if I was
beginning to like--or, as you modestly phrase it--as if I was getting
more reconciled to the Continent. Maybe I am, now that I have learned
how to qualify the light wines with a little brandy, and to make my
dinner of the eight or nine, instead of the two-and-thirty dishes they
serve up to you; and since I have trained myself to walk the length of
a street, in rain or sunshine, without my hat, and have attained to the
names of the cards at whist in a foreign tongue, I believe I do feel
more at home here than at first; but still I am far, very far, in arrear
of the knowledge that a man bred and born abroad would possess at my
age. To begin, Tom: He would be a perfect cook; you couldn't put a clove
of garlic too little, or an olive too much, without his detecting it in
the dish. Secondly, he would be curious in snuffs, and a dead hand at
dominos; then he would be deep in the private histories of the ballet,
and tell you the various qualities of short-draperied damsels that had
figured on the boards for the last thirty years. These, and such-like,
would be the consolations of his declining years; and of these I know
absolutely next to nothing. Who knows, however, but I may improve? The
world is a wonderful schoolmaster, and if Mrs. D. is to be believed, I
am an apt scholar whenever the study is of an equivocal kind.
We hope to spend the late autumn at Como, and then step down into some
of the cities of the South for the winter months. The approved plan is
Florence till about the middle of January, Rome till the beginning
of Lent, then Naples till the Holy Week, whence back again for the
ceremonies. After that, northward wherever you please. All this sounds
like a good deal of locomotion, and, consequently, of expense; but Lord
G. says, "Just leave it to _me_, I'll be your courier;" and as he not
only performs that function, but unites with it that of banker,--he can
get anything discounted at any moment,--I am little disposed to depose
him from his office. Now no more complaints that I have not replied to
you about this, that, and t' other, not informed you about our future
movements, nor given you any hint as to our plans: you know everything
about us, at least so far as it is known to your
Very sincere friend,
Kenny I. Dodd.
As I mentioned in the beginning, I am too late for the post, so I 'll
keep this open if anything should occur to me before the next mail.
The Inn, Splugen, Monday.
I thought this was already far on its way to you; but, to my great
surprise, on opening my writing-desk this morning, I discovered it
there still. The truth is, I grow more absent, and what the French call
"distracted," every day; and it frequently happens that I forget some
infernal bill or other, till the fellow knocks at the door with "the
notice." Here we are, at a little inn on the very top of the Alps.
We arrived yesterday, and, to our utter astonishment, found ourselves
suddenly in a land of snow and icebergs. The whole way from Bregenz the
season was a mellow autumn: some of the corn was still standing, but
most was cut, and the cattle turned out over the stubble; the trees were
in full leaf, and the mountain rivulets were clear and sparkling, for no
rain had fallen for some time back. It was a picturesque road and full
of interest in many ways. From Coire we made a little excursion across
the Rhine to a place called Ragatz,--a kind of summer resort for
visitors who come to bathe and drink the waters of Pfeffers, one of
the most extraordinary sights I ever beheld. These baths are built in
a cleft of the mountain, about a thousand feet in depth, and scarcely
thirty wide in many parts; the sides of the precipices are straight as a
wall, and only admit of a gleam of the sun when perfectly vertical. The
gloom and solemnity of the spot, its death-like stillness and shade,
even at noonday, are terribly oppressive. Nor is the sadness dispelled
by the living objects of the picture,--Swiss, Germans, French, and
Italians, swathed in flannel dressing-gowns and white dimity cerements,
with nightcaps and slippers, steal along the gloomy corridors and the
gloomier alleys, pale, careworn, and cadaverous. They come here for
health, and their whole conversation is sickness. Now, however consoling
it may be to an invalid to find a recipient of his sorrows, the price
of listening in turn is a tremendous infliction. Nor is the character of
the scene such as would probably suggest agreeable reflections; had it
been the portico to the nameless locality itself, it could not possibly
be more dreary and sorrow-stricken. Now, whatever virtues the waters
possess, is surely antagonized by all this agency of gloom and
depression; and except it be as a preparation for leaving the world
without regret, this place seems to be marvellously ill adapted for its
object. It appears to me, however, that foreigners run into the greatest
extremes in these matters; a sick man must either live in a perpetual
Vauxhall of fireworks, music, dancing, dining, and gambling, as at
Baden, or be condemned to the worse than penitentiary diet and prison
discipline of Pfeffers! Surely there must be some halting-place between
the ball-room and the cloister, or some compromise of costume between
silk stockings and bare feet! But really, to a thinking, reasonable
being, it appears very distressing that you must either dance out of the
world to Strauss's music, or hobble miserably out of life to the sound
of the falling waters of Pfeffers.
Does it not sound, also, very oddly to our free-trade notions of malady,
that the doctor of these places is appointed by the State; that without
his sanction and opinion of your case, you must neither bathe nor drink;
that no matter how satisfied you may be with your own physician, nor how
little to your liking the Government medico, he has the last word on the
subject of your disorder, and without his wand the pool is never to be
stirred in your behalf. You don't quite approve of this, Tom,--neither
do I. The State has no more a right to choose my doctor than to select
a wife for me. If there be anything essentially a man's own prerogative,
it is his--what shall I call it?--his caprice about his medical adviser.
One man likes a grave, sententious, silently disposed fellow, who feels
his pulse, shakes his head, takes his fee, and departs, with scarcely
more than a muttered monosyllable; another prefers the sympathetic
doctor, that goes half-and-half in all his sufferings, lies awake at
night thinking of his case, and seems to rest his own hopes of future
bliss in life on curing him. As for myself, I lean to the fellow that,
no matter what ails me, is sure to make me pass a pleasant half-hour;
that has a lively way of laughing down all my unpleasant symptoms, and
is certain to have a droll story about a patient that he has just come
from. That's the man for my money; and I wish you could tell me where a
man gets as good value as for the guinea be gives to one of these. Now,
from what I have seen of the Continent, this is an order of which
they have no representative. All the professional classes, but more
essentially the medical, are taken from an inferior grade in society,
neither brought up in intercourse with the polite world, nor ever
admitted to it afterwards. The consequence is, that your doctor comes
to visit you as your shoemaker to measure you for shoes, and it would
be deemed as great a liberty were he to talk of anything but your
complaint, as for Crispin to impart his sentiments about Russia or the
policy of Louis Napoleon. I don't like the system, and I am convinced
it does n't work well. If I know anything of human nature, too, it is
this,--that nobody tells the whole truth to his physician _till he can't
help it_. No, Tom, it only comes out after a long cross-examination,
great patience, and a deal of dodging; and for these you must have no
vulgarly minded, commonplace, underbred fellow, but a consummate man of
the world, who knows when you are bamboozling him and when fencing him
off with a sham. He must be able to use all the arts of a priest in the
confessional, and an advocate in a trial, with a few more of his own not
known to either, to extort your secret from you; and I am sure that a
man of vulgar habits and low associations is not the best adapted for
this.
I wanted to stop and dine with this lugubrious company. I was curious
to see what they ate, and whether their natures attained any social
expansion under the genial influences of food and drink; but Mrs. D.
would n't hear of it. She had detected, she said, an "impudent hussy
with black eyes" bestowing suspicious glances at your humble servant. I
thought that she was getting out of these fancies,--I fondly hoped that
a little peace on these subjects would in a degree reconcile me to many
of the discomforts of old age; but, alas! the gray hairs and the stiff
ankles have come, and no writ of ease against conjugal jealousies.
Away we came, fresh and fasting, and as there was nothing to be had at
Ragatz, we were obliged to go on to Coire before we got supper; and if
you only knew what it is to arrive at one of these foreign inns after
the hour of the ordinary meals, you 'd confess there was little risk of
our committing an excess.
I own to you, Tom, that the excursion scarcely deserved to be called
a pleasant one. Fatigue, disappointment, and hunger are but ill
antagonized by an outbreak of temper; and Mrs. D. lightened the way
homeward by a homily on fidelity that would have made Don Juan appear
deserving of being canonized as a saint! I must also observe that
Tiverton's conduct on this occasion was the very reverse of what I
expected from him. A shrewd, keen fellow like him could not but know in
his heart that Mrs. D.'s suspicions were only nonsense and absurdity;
and yet what did he do but play shocked and horrified, agreed completely
with every ridiculous notion of my wife, and actually went so far as to
appeal to me as a father against myself as a profligate. I almost choked
with passion; and if it was not that we were under obligations to him
about James's business, I'm not certain I should not have thrown him
out of the coach. I wish to the saints that the women would take to
any other line of suspicion, even for the sake of variety,--fancy me an
incurable drunkard, a gambler, an uncertificated bankrupt, or a forger.
I'm not certain if I would not accept the charge of a transportable
felony rather than be regarded as the sworn enemy of youth and virtue,
and the snake in the grass to all unprotected females.
From Coire we travelled on to Reichenau, a pretty village at the foot
of the Alps, watered by the Rhine, which is there a very inconsiderable
stream, and with as little promise of future greatness as any barrister
of six years' standing you please to mention. There is a neat-looking
chateau, which stands on a small terrace above the river here, not
without a certain interest attached to it. It was here that Louis
Philippe, then Duke of Orleans, taught mathematics in the humble
capacity of usher to a school. Just fancy that deep politician--the
wiliest head in all Europe, with the largest views of statecraft, and
the most consummate knowledge of men--instilling angles and triangles
into impracticable numskulls, and crossing the Asses' bridge ten times a
day with lame and crippled intellects.
It would be curious to know what views of mankind, what studies of
life, he made during this period. Such a man was not made to suffer
any opportunity, no matter how inconsiderable in itself, to escape him
without profiting; and it may be easily believed that in the monarchy of
a school he might have meditated over the rule of large masses.
History can scarcely present greater changes of fortune than those that
have befallen that family, which is the more singular, since they
have been brought about neither by great talents nor great crimes. The
Orleans family was more remarkable for the qualities which shine in
the middle ranks of life than either for any towering genius or
any unscrupulous ambition. Their strength was essentially in this
mediocrity, and it was a momentary forgetfulness of that same
stronghold--by the Spanish marriage--that cost the King his throne. The
truth was, Tom, that the nation never liked us,--they hated England just
as they hated it at Cressy, at Blenheim, and at Waterloo, and will hate
it, notwithstanding your great Industrial gatherings, to the end of
time. They were much dissatisfied with Louis Philippe's policy of
an English alliance; they deemed it disadvantageous, costly, and
humiliating; but that it should be broken up and destroyed for an object
of mere family, for a piece of dynastic ambition, was a gross outrage
and affront to the spirit of national pride. It was the sentiment of
insulted honor that leagued the followers of the Orleans branch with the
Legitimists and the Republicans, and formed that terrible alliance that
extended from St. Antoine to the Faubourg St. Germain, and included
every one from the peer to the common laborer.
All this prosing about politics will never take us over the Alps; and,
indeed, so far as I can see, there is small prospect of that event just
now; for it has been snowing smartly all night, with a strong southerly
wind, which they say always leaves heavy drifts in different parts of
the mountain.
We are cooped up here in a curious, straggling kind of an inn, that
gradually dwindles away into a barn, a stable, and a great shed, filled
with disabled diligences and smashed old sledges,--an incurable asylum
for diseased conveyances. The house stands in a cleft of the hills; but
from the windows you can see the zigzag road that ascends for miles in
front, and which now is only marked by long poles, already some ten or
twelve feet deep in snow. It is snow on every side,--on the mountains,
on the roofs, on the horses that stand shaking their bells at the door,
on the conducteur that drinks his schnaps, on the postilion as he
lights his pipe. The thin flakes are actually plating his whiskers and
moustaches, till he looks like one of the "Old Guard," as we see them in
a melodrama.
Tiverton, who conducts all our arrangements, has had a row with our
vetturino, who says that he never contracted to take us over the
mountain in sledges; and as the carriages cannot run on wheels, here
we are discussing the question. There have been three stormy debates
already, and another is to come off this afternoon; meanwhile, the snow
is falling heavily, and whatever chance there was of getting forward
yesterday is now ten times less practicable. The landlord of our inn is
to be arbiter, I understand; and as he is the proprietor of the sledges
we shall have to hire, if defeated, without impugning in any way the
character of Alpine justice, you can possibly anticipate the verdict.
A word upon this vetturino system ere I leave it,--I hope forever. It
is a perfect nuisance from beginning to end. From the moment you set off
with one of these rascals, till the hour you arrive at your journey's
end, it is plague, squabble, insolence, and torment. They start at what
hour of the morning they please; they halt where they like, and for as
long as they like, invariably, too, at the worst wayside inns,--away
from a town and from all chance of accommodation,--since rye-bread and
sour wine, with a mess of stewed garlic, will always satisfy _them_.
They rarely drive at full five miles the hour, and walk every inch with
an ascent of a foot in a hundred yards. If expostulated with by the
wretched traveller, they halt in some public place, and appeal to the
bystanders in some dialect unknown to you. The result of which is that
a ferocious mob surrounds you, and with invectives, insults, and
provocative gestures assail and outrage you, till it please your
tormentor to drive on; which you do at length amidst hooting and uproar
that even convicted felons would feel ashamed of.
On reaching your inn at night, they either give such a representation of
you as gets you denied admittance at all, or obtain for you the enviable
privilege of paying for everything "en Milor." Between being a swindler
and an idiot the chance alone lies for you. Then they refuse to unstrap
your luggage; or if they do so, tie it on again so insecurely that it
is sure to drop off next day. I speak not of a running fire of petty
annoyances; such as fumigating you with pestilent tobacco, nor the
blessed enjoyment of that infernal Spitz dog which stands all day on the
roof, and barks every mile of the road from Berne to Naples. As to any
redress against their insolence, misconduct, or extortion, it is utterly
hopeless,--and for this reason: they are sure to have a hundred petty
occasions of rendering small services to the smaller authorities of
every village they frequent. They carry the judge's mother for nothing
to a watering-place; or they fetch his aunt to the market town; or they
smuggle for him--or thieve for him--something that is only to be had
over the frontier. Very probably, too, on the very morning of your
appeal, you have kicked the same judge's brother, he being the waiter
of your inn, and having given you bad money in change,--at all events,
_you_ are not likely ever to be met with again; the vetturino is certain
to come back within the year; and, finally, you are sure to have money,
and be able to pay,--so that, as the Irish foreman said, as the reason
for awarding heavy damages against an Englishman, "It is a fine thing to
bring so much money into the country."
Take my word for it, Tom, the system is a perfect disgust from beginning
to end, and even its cheapness only a sham; for your economy is more
than counterbalanced by police fees, fines, and impositions, delays,
remounts, bulls, and starved donkeys, paid for at a price they would not
bring if sold at a market. Post, if you can afford it; take the public
conveyances, if you must; but for the sake of all that is decent and
respectable,--all that consists with comfort and self-respect,--avoid
the vetturino! I know that a contrary opinion has a certain prevalence
in the world,--I am quite aware that these rascals have their
advocates,--and no bad ones either,--since they are women.
I have witnessed more than one Giuseppe, or Antonio, with a beard,
whiskers, and general "get up," that would have passed muster in a comic
opera; and on looking at the fellow's book of certificates (for such as
these always have a bound volume, smartly enclosed in a neat case), I
have found that "Mrs. Miles Dalrymple and daughters made the journey
from Milan to Aix-les-Bains with Francesco Birbante, and found him
excessively attentive, civil, and obliging; full of varied information
about the road, and quite a treasure to ladies travelling alone."
Another of these villains is styled "quite an agreeable companion;" one
was called "charming;" and I found that Miss Matilda Somers, of Queen's
Road, Old Brompton, pronounces Luigi Balderdasci, although in the
humble rank of a vetturino, "an accomplished gentleman." I know,
therefore, how ineffectual would it be for Kenny Dodd to enter the lists
against such odds, and it is only under the seal of secrecy that I dare
to mutter them. The widows and the fatherless form a strong category in
foreign travel; dark dresses and demure looks are very vagrant in their
habits, and I am not going to oppose myself single-handed to such a
united force. But to you, Tom Purceli, I may tell the truth in all
confidence and security. If I was in authority, I 'd shave these
scoundrels to-morrow. I 'd not suffer a moustache, a red sash, nor a
hat with a feather amongst them; and take my word for it, the panegyrics
would be toned down, and we'd read much more about the horses than the
drivers, and learn how many miles a day they could travel, and not how
many sonnets of Petrarch the rascal could repeat.
I have lost my "John Murray." I forgot it in our retreat from Pfeffers;
so that I don't remember whether he lauds these fellows or the reverse,
but the chances are it is the former. It is one of the endless delusions
travellers fall into, and many's the time I have had to endure a
tiresome description of their delightful vetturino, that "charming
Beppo, who, 'however he got them,' had a bouquet for each of us every
morning at breakfast." If I ever could accomplish the writing of that
book I once spoke to you about upon the Continent and foreign travels, I
'd devote a whole chapter to these fellows; and more than that, Tom, I'd
have an Appendix--a book of travels is nothing without an Appendix in
small print--wherein I'd give a list of all these scoundrels who have
been convicted as bandits, thieves, and petty larceners; of all their
misdeeds against old gentlemen with palsy, and old ladies with "nerves."
I 'd show them up, not as heroes but highwaymen; and take my word for
it, I 'd be doing good service to the writers of those sharply formed
little paragraphs now so enthusiastic about Giovanni, and so full of
"grateful recollections" of "poor Giuseppe."
I am positively ashamed to say how many of the observations, ay, and of
the printed observations of travellers, I have discovered to have their
origin in this same class; and that what the tourist jotted down as
his own remark on men and manners, was the stereotyped opinion of
these illiterate vagabonds. But as for books of travel, Tom, of all the
humbugs of a humbugging age, there is nothing can approach them. I have
heard many men talk admirably about foreign life and customs. I have
never chanced upon one who could write about them. It is not only
that your really smart fellows do not write; but that, to pronounce
authoritatively on a people, one must have a long and intimate
acquaintance with them. Now, this very fact alone to a great degree
invalidates the freshness of observation; for what we are accustomed
to see every day ceases to strike us as worthy of remark. To the raw
tourist, all is strange, novel, and surprising; and if he only record
what he sees, he will tell much that everybody knows, but also some
things that are not quite so familiar to the multitude. Now, your old
resident abroad knows the Continent too well and too thoroughly to find
any one incident or circumstance peculiar. To take an illustration: A
man who had never been at a play in his life would form a far better
conception of what a theatre was like from hearing the description of
one from an intelligent child, who had been there once, than from the
most labored criticism on the acting from an old frequenter of the pit.
Hence the majority of these tours have a certain success at home; but
for the man who comes abroad, and wishes to know something that may aid
to guide his steps, form his opinions, and direct his judgment, believe
me they are not worth a brass farthing. There is this also to be taken
into account,--that every observer is, more or less, recounting some
trait of his own nature, of his habits, his tastes, and his prejudices;
so that before you can receive his statement, you have to study his
disposition. Take all these adverse and difficult conditions into
consideration,--give a large margin for credulity, and a larger for
exaggeration,--bethink you of the embarrassments of a foreign tongue,
and then I ask you how much real information you have a right to expect
from Journals of the Long Vacation, or Winters in Italy, or Tyrol
Rambles in Autumn? I say it in no boastfulness, Tom, nor in any mood of
vanity, but if I was some twenty years younger, with a good income and
no encumbrances, well versed in languages, and fairly placed as regards
social advantages, I myself could make a very readable volume about
foreign life and foreign manners. You laugh at the notion of Kenny Dodd
on a titlepage; but have n't we one or two of our acquaintances that cut
just as ridiculous a figure?
Tiverton has come in to tell me that the judgment of the Court has been
given against him, and consequently against us, "_in re_ Vetturino;" and
the award of the judge is, "That we pay all the expenses for the journey
to Milan, the gratuity,--that was only to be given as an evidence of
our perfect satisfaction,--and anything more that our sense of honor
and justice may suggest, as compensation for the loss of time he has
sustained in litigating with us." On these conditions he is to be free
to follow his road, and we are to remain here till--I wish I could say
the time--but, according to present appearances, it may be spring before
we get away. When I tell you that the decision has been given by the
landlord of the inn, where we must stop,--as no other exists within
twenty miles of us,--you may guess the animus of the judgment-seat. It
requires a great degree of self-restraint not be to carried into what
the law calls an overt act, by a piece of iniquity like this. I have
abstained by a great effort; but the struggle has almost given me a fit
of apoplexy. Imagine the effrontery of the rascal, Tom: scarcely had
he counted over his Napoleons, and made his grin of farewell, than he
mounted his box and drove away over the mountain, which had just been
declared impassable,--a feat witnessed by all of us,--in company with
the landlord who had pronounced the verdict against us. I stormed--I
swore--in short, I worked myself into a sharp fit of the gout, which
flew from my ankle to my stomach, and very nigh carried me off. A day
of extreme suffering has been succeeded by one of great depression; and
here I am now, with the snow still falling fast; the last courier who
went by saying "that all the inns at Chiavenna were full of people, none
of whom would venture to cross the mountain." It appears that there are
just two peculiarly unpropitious seasons for the passage,--when the snow
falls first, and when it begins to melt in spring. It is needless to say
that we have hit upon one of these, with our habitual good fortune!
Thursday. The Inn, Spluegen.
Here we are still in this blessed place, this being now our seventh day
in a hole you would n't condemn a dog to live in. How long we might
have continued our sojourn it is hard to say, when a mere accident has
afforded us the prospect of liberation. It turns out that two families
arrived and went forward last night, having only halted to sup and
change horses. On inquiry why we could n't be supposed capable of the
same exertion, you 'll not believe me when I tell you the answer we got.
No, Tom! The enormous power of lying abroad is clear and clean beyond
your conception. It was this, then. We could go when we pleased,--it was
entirely a caprice of our own that we had not gone before. "How so, may
I ask?" said I, in the meekest of inquiring voices. "You would n't go
like others," was the answer. "In what respect,--how?" asked I again.
"Oh, your English notions rejected the idea of a sledge. You insisted
upon going on wheels, and as no wheeled carriage could run--" Grant me
patience, or I'll explode like a shell. My hand shakes, and my temples
are throbbing so that I can scarcely write the lines. I made a great
effort at a calm and discretionary tone, but it would n't do; a certain
fulness about the throat, a general dizziness, and a noise like the sea
in my ears, told me that I'd have been behaving basely to the "Guardian"
and the "Equitable Fire and Life" were I to continue the debate. I sat
down, and with a sponge and water and loose cravat, I got better. There
was considerable confusion in my faculties on my coming to myself; I had
a vague notion of having conducted myself in some most ridiculous and
extravagant fashion,--having insisted upon the horses being harnessed
in some impossible mode, or made some demand or other totally
impracticable. Cary, like a dear kind girl as she is, laughed and
quizzed me out of my delusion, and showed me that it was the cursed
imputation of that scoundrel of a landlord had given this erratic turn
to my thoughts. The gout has settled in my left foot, and I now, with
the exception of an occasional shoot of pain that I relieve by a shout,
feel much better, and hope soon to be fit for the road. Poor Cary made
me laugh by a story she picked up somewhere of a Scotch gentleman who
had contracted with his vetturino to be carried from Genoa to Rome and
fed on the road,--a very common arrangement. The journey was to occupy
nine days; but wishing to secure a splendid "buona mano," the vetturino
drove at a tremendous pace, and actually arrived in Rome on the eighth
day, having almost killed his horses and exhausted himself. When he
appeared before his traveller, expecting compliments on his speed, and
a handsome recognition for his zeal, guess his astonishment to hear his
self-panegyrics cut short by the pithy remark: "You drove very well, my
friend; but we are not going to part just yet,--you have still another
day to _feed_ me."
Tiverton has at length patched up an arrangement with our landlord
for twelve sledges,--each only carries one and the driver,--so that if
nothing adverse intervene we are to set forth to-morrow. He says that we
may reasonably hope to reach Chiavenna before evening. I 'll therefore
not detain this longer, but in the prospect that our hour of liberation
has at length drawn nigh, conclude my long despatch.
Our villa at Como will be our next address, and I hope to find a letter
there from you soon after our arrival. Remember, Tom, all that I have
said about the supplies, for though they tell me Italy be cheap, I
have not yet discovered a land where the population believes gold to be
dross. Adieu!
LETTER VI. MARY ANNE DODD TO MISS DOOLAN, OF BALLYDOOLAN.
On the Spluegen Alps.
Dearest Kitty,--I write these few lines from the Refuge-house on the
Spluegen Pass. We are seven thousand feet above the level of something,
with fifty feet of snow around us, and the deafening roar of avalanches
thundering on the ear. We set out yesterday from the village of Spluegen,
contrary to the advice of the guides, but papa insisted on going. He
declared that if no other means offered, he 'd go on foot, so that
opposition was really out of the question. Our departure was quite a
picture. First came a long, low sledge, with stones and rocks to explore
the way, and show where the footing was secure. Then came three others
with our luggage; after that mamma, under the guidance of a most careful
person, a certain Bernardt something, brother of the man who acted
as guide to Napoleon; Cary followed her in another sledge, and I came
third, papa bringing up the rear, for Betty and the other servants
were tastefully grouped about the luggage. Several additional sledges
followed with spade and shovel-folk, ropes, drags, and other implements
most suggestive of peril and adventure. We were perfect frights to look
at; for, in addition to fur boots and capes, tarpaulins and hoods, we
had to wear snow goggles as a precaution against the fine drifting snow,
so that really for very shame' sake I was glad that each sledge only
held one, and the driver, who is fortunately, also, at your back.
The first few miles of ascent were really pleasurable, for the snow
was hard, and the pace occasionally reached a trot, or at least such a
resemblance to one as shook the conveniency, and made the bells jingle
agreeably on the harness. The road, too, followed a zigzag course on
the steep side of the mountain, so that you saw at moments some of those
above and some beneath you, winding along exactly like the elephant
procession in Bluebeard. The voices sounded cheerily in the sharp
morning air, itself exhilarating to a degree, and this, with the bright
snow-peaks, rising one behind the other in the distance, and the little
village of Spluegen in the valley, made up a scene strikingly picturesque
and interesting. There was a kind of adventure, too, about it all,
dearest Kitty, that never loses its charm for the soul deeply imbued
with a sense of the beautiful and imaginative. I fancied myself at
moments carried away by force into the Steppes of Tartary, or that I
was Elizabeth crossing the Volga, and I believe I even shed tears at my
fancied distress. To another than you, dearest, I might hesitate even if
I confessed as much; but you, who know every weakness of a too feeling
heart, will forgive me for being what I am.
My guide, a really fine-looking mountaineer, with a magnificent beard,
fancied that it was the danger that had appalled me. He hastened to
offer his rude but honest consolations; he protested that there was
nothing whatever like peril, and that if there were--But why do I go on?
even to my dearest friend may not this seem childish? and is it not a
silly vanity that owns it can derive pleasure from every homage, even
the very humblest?
We gradually lost sight of the little smoke-wreathed village, and
reached a wild but grandly desolate region, with snow on every side. The
pathway, too, was now lost to us, and the direction only indicated by
long poles at great intervals. That all was not perfectly safe in front
might be apprehended, for we came frequently to a dead halt, and then
the guides and the shovel-men would pass rapidly to and fro, but,
muffled as we were, all inquiry was impossible, so that we were left to
the horrors of doubt and dread without a chance of relief. At length we
grew accustomed to these interruptions, and felt in a measure tranquil.
Not so the guides, however; they frequently talked together in knots,
and I could see from their upward glances, too, that they apprehended
some change in the weather. Papa had contrived to cut some of the cords
with which they had fastened his muffles, and by great patience and
exertion succeeded in getting his head out of three horsecloths, with
which they had swathed him.
"Are we near the summit?" cried he, in English,--"how far are we from
the top?"
His question was of course unintelligible, but his action not; and the
consequence was that three of our followers rushed over to him, and
after a brief struggle, in which two of them were tumbled over in the
snow, his head was again enclosed within its woolly cenotaph; and,
indeed, but for a violent jerking motion of it, it might have been
feared that even all access to external air was denied him. This little
incident was the only break to the monotony of the way, till nigh noon,
when a cold, biting wind, with great masses of misty vapor, swept past
and around us, and my guide told me that we were somewhere, with a hard
name, and that he wished we were somewhere else, with a harder.
I asked why, but my question died away in the folds of my head-gear, and
I was left to my own thoughts, when suddenly a loud shout rang through
the air. It was a party about to turn back, and the sledges stopped up
the road. The halt led to a consultation between the guides, which I
could see turned on the question of the weather. The discussion was
evidently a warm one, a party being for, and another against it. Hearing
what they said was of course out of the question, muffled as I was; but
their gestures clearly defined who were in favor of proceeding, and who
wished to retrace their steps. One of the former particularly struck me;
for, though encumbered with fur boots and an enormous mantle, his action
plainly indicated that he was something out of the common. He showed
that air of command, too, Kitty, that at once proclaims superiority.
His arguments prevailed, and after a considerable time spent, on we went
again. I followed the interesting stranger till he was lost to me; but
guess my feelings, Kitty, when I heard a voice whisper in my ear,
"Don't be afraid, dearest, I watch over _your_ safety." Oh! fancy the
perturbation of my poor heart, for it was Lord George who spoke. He it
was whose urgent persuasions had determined the guides to proceed, and
he now had taken the place behind my own sledge, and actually drove
instead of the postilion. Can you picture to yourself heroism and
devotion like this? And while I imagined that he was borne along with
all the appliances of ease and comfort, the poor dear fellow was braving
the storm _for me_, and _for me_ enduring the perils of the raging
tempest. From that instant, my beloved Kitty, I took little note of the
dangers around me. I thought but of him who stood so near to me,--so
near, and yet so far off; so close, and yet so severed! I bethought me,
too, how unjust the prejudice of the vulgar mind that attributes to our
youthful nobility habits of selfish indolence and effeminate ease. Here
was one reared in all the voluptuous enjoyment of a splendid household,
trained from his cradle to be waited on and served, and yet was he there
wilfully encountering perils and hardships from which the very bravest
might recoil. Ah, Kitty! it is impossible to deny it,--the highly born
have a native superiority in everything. Their nobility is not a thing
of crosses and ribbons, but of blood. They feel that they are of earth's
purest clay, and they assert the claim to pre-eminence by their own
proud and lofty gifts. I told you, too, that he said "dearest." I might
have been deceived; the noise was deafening at the moment; but I feel
as if my ears could not have betrayed me. At all events, Kitty, his hand
sought mine while he spoke, and though in his confusion it was my elbow
he caught, he pressed it tenderly. In what a delicious dream did I revel
as we slid along over the snow! What cared I for the swooping wind, the
thundering avalanche, the drifting snow-wreath,--was he not there, my
protector and my guide? Had he not sworn to be my succor and my safety?
We had just arrived at a lofty tableland,--some few peaks appeared still
above us, but none very near,--when the wind, with a violence beyond
all description, bore great masses of drift against us, and effectually
barred all farther progress. The stone sledge, too, had partly become
embedded in the soft snow, and the horse was standing powerless, when
suddenly mamma's horse stumbled and fell. In his efforts to rise he
smashed one of the rope traces, so that when he began to pull again,
the unequal draught carried the sledge to one side, and upset it. A
loud shriek told me something had happened, and at the instant Lord G.
whispered in my ear, "It's nothing,--she has only taken a 'header' in
the soft snow, and won't be a bit the worse."
Further questioning was vain; for Cary's sledge-horse shied at the
confusion in front, and plunged off the road into the deep snow, where
he disappeared all but the head, fortunately flinging her out into
the guide's arms. My turn was now to come; for Lord G., with his mad
impetuosity, tried to pass on and gain the front, but the animal, by
a furious jerk, smashed all the tackle, and set off at a wild,
half-swimming pace through the snow, leaving our sledge firmly wedged
between two dense walls of drift Papa sprang out to our rescue; but so
helpless was he, from the quantity of his integuments, that he rolled
over, and lay there on his back, shouting fearfully.
It appeared as if the violence of the storm had only waited for this
moment of general disaster; for now the wind tore along great masses of
snow, that rose around us to the height of several feet, covering up
the horses to their backs, and embedding the men to their armpits. Loud
booming masses announced the fall of avalanches near, and the sky became
darkened, like as if night was approaching. Words cannot convey the
faintest conception of that scene of terror, dismay, and confusion.
Guides shouting and swearing; cries of distress and screams of anguish
mingled with the rattling thunder and the whistling wind. Some were for
trying to go back; others proclaimed it impossible; each instant a new
disaster occurred. The baggage had disappeared altogether, Betty Cobb
being saved, as it sank, by almost superhuman efforts of the guide.
Paddy Byrne, who had mistaken the kick of a horse on the back of his
head for a blow, had pitched into one of the guides, and they were now
fighting in four feet of snow, and likely to carry their quarrel out of
the world with them. Taddy was "nowhere." To add to this uproar, papa
had, in mistake for brandy, drunk two-thirds of a bottle of complexion
wash, and screamed out that he was poisoned. Of mamma I could see
nothing; but a dense group surrounded her sledge, and showed me she was
in trouble.
I could not give you an idea of what followed, for incidents of peril
were every moment interrupted by something ludicrous. The very efforts
we made to disengage ourselves were constantly attended by some absurd
catastrophe, and no one could stir a step without either a fall, or
a plunge up to the waist in soft snow. The horses, too, would make no
efforts to rise, but lay to be snowed over as if perfectly indifferent
to their fate. By good fortune our britschka, from which the wheels had
been taken off, was in a sledge to the rear, and mamma, Cary, and myself
were crammed into this, to which all the horses, and men also, were
speedily harnessed, and by astonishing efforts we were enabled to get
on. Papa and Betty were wedged fast into one sledge, and attached to us
by a tow-rope, and thus we at length proceeded.
When mamma found herself in comparative safety, she went off into a
slight attack of her nerves; but, fortunately, Lord G. found out the
bottle papa had been in vain in search of, and she got soon better. Poor
fellow, no persuasion could prevail on him to come inside along with us.
How he travelled, or how he contrived to brave that fearful day, I never
learned! From this moment our journey was at the rate of about a mile
in three hours, the shovel and spade men having to clear the way as we
went; and what between horses that had to be dug out of holes, harness
repaired, men rescued, and frequent accident to papa's sledge, which, on
an average, was upset every half-hour, our halts were incessant. It was
after midnight that we reached a dreary-looking stone edifice in the
midst of the snow. Anything so dismal I never beheld, as it stood there
surrounded with drift-snow, its narrow windows strongly barred with
iron, and its roof covered with heavy masses of stone to prevent
it being earned away by the hurricane. This, we were told, was the
Refuge-house on the summit, and here, we were informed, we should stay
till a change of weather might enable us to proceed.
But does not the very name "Refuge-house" fill you with thoughts of
appalling danger? Do you not instinctively shudder at the perils to
which this is the haven of succor?
"I see we are not the first here," cried Caroline; "don't you see lights
moving yonder?"
She was right, for as we drew up we perceived a group of guides and
drivers in the doorway, and saw various conveyances and sledges within
the shed at the side of the building.
A dialogue in the wildest shouts was now conducted between our party and
the others, by which we came to learn that the travellers were some
of those who had left Splugen the night before ourselves, and whose
disasters had been even worse than our own. Indeed, as far as I could
ascertain, they had gone through much more than we had.
Our first meeting with papa--in the kitchen, as I suppose I must call
the lower room of this fearful place--was quite affecting, for he had
taken so much of the guide's brandy as an antidote to the supposed
poison, that he was really overcome, and, under the delusion that he was
at home in his own house, ran about shaking hands with every one, and
welcoming them to Dodsborough. Mamma was so convinced that he had lost
his reason permanently, that she was taken with violent hysterics. The
scene baffles all description, occurring, as it did, in presence of
some twenty guides and spade-folk, who drank their "schnaps," ate their
sausages, smoked, and dried their wet garments all the while, with a
most well-bred inattention to our sufferings. Though Cary and I were
obliged to do everything ourselves,--for Betty was insensible, owing to
her having travelled in the vicinity of the same little cordial flask,
and my maid was sulky in not being put under the care of a certain
good-looking guide,--we really succeeded wonderfully, and contrived to
have papa put to bed in a little chamber with a good mattress, and where
a cheerful fire was soon lighted. Mamma also rallied, and Lord George
made her a cup of tea in a kettle, and poured her out a cup of it into
the shaving-dish of his dressing-box, and we all became as happy as
possible.
It appeared that the other arrivals, who occupied a separate quarter,
were not ill provided for the emergency, for a servant used to pass
and repass to their chamber with a very savory odor from the dish he
carried, and Lord G. swore that he heard the pop of a champagne cork. We
made great efforts to ascertain who they were, but without success. All
we could learn was that it was a gentleman and a lady, with their two
servants, travelling in their own carriage, which was unmistakably
English.
"I 'm determined to run them to earth," exclaimed Lord G. at last. "I
'll just mistake my way, and blunder into their apartment."
We endeavored to dissuade him, but he was determined; and when he is so,
Kitty, nothing can swerve him. Off he went, and after a pause of a few
seconds we heard a heavy door slammed, then another. After that, both
Cary and myself were fully persuaded that we heard a hearty burst of
laughter; but though we listened long and painfully, we could detect
no more. Unhappily, too, at this time mamma fell asleep, and her
deep respirations effectually masked everything but the din of the
avalanches. After a while Cary followed ma's example, leaving me alone
to sit by the "watch-fire's light," and here, in the regions of eternal
snow, to commune with her who holds my heart's dearest affections.
It is now nigh three o'clock. The night is of the very blackest, neither
moon nor stars to be seen; fearful squalls of wind--gusts strong enough
to shake this stronghold to its foundation--tear wildly past, and from
the distance comes the booming sound of thundering avalanches. One might
fancy, easily, that escape from this was impossible, and that to be cast
away here implied a lingering but inevitable fate. No great strain of
fancy is needed for such a consummation. We are miles from all human
habitation, and three yards beyond the doorway the boldest would not
dare to venture! And you, Kitty, at this hour are calmly sleeping to the
hum of "the spreading sycamore;" or, perchance, awake, and thinking of
her who now pours out her heart before you; and oh, blame me not if it
be a tangled web that I present to you, for such will human hopes and
emotions ever make it My poor heart is, indeed, a battleground for
warring hopes and fears, high-soaring ambitions, and depressing terrors.
Would that you were here to guide, console, and direct me!
Lord George has not returned. What can his absence mean? All is silent,
too, in the dreary building. My anxieties are fearful,--I dread I know
not what. I fancy a thousand ills that even possibility would have
rejected. The courier is to pass this at five o'clock, so that I must,
perchance, close my letter in the same agony of doubt and uncertainty.
Oh, dearest, only fancy the _mal a propos_. Who do you think our
neighbors are? Mr. and Mrs. Gore Hampton, on their way to Italy! Can you
imagine anything so unfortunate and so distressing? You may remember
all our former intimacy,--I may call it friendship,--and by what an
unpropitious incident it was broken up. Lord George has just come to
tell me the tidings, but, instead of participating in my distress, he
seems to think the affair an admirable joke. I need not tell you that he
knows nothing of mamma's temper, nor her manner of acting. What may come
of this there is no saying. It seems that there is scarcely a chance of
our being able to get on to-day; and here we are all beneath one roof,
our mutual passions of jealousy, hatred, revenge, and malice, all snowed
up on the top of the Splugen Alps!
I have asked of Lord George, almost with tears, what is to be done? but
to all seeming he sees no difficulty in the matter, for his reply is
always, "Nothing whatever." When pressed closely, he says, "Oh, the
Gore Hamptons are such thoroughly well-bred folk, there is never any
awkwardness to be apprehended from _them_. Be quite easy in your mind;
_they_ have tact enough for any emergency." What this may mean, Kitty, I
cannot even guess; for the "situation," as the French would call it, is
peculiar. And as to tact, it is, after all, like skill in a game which,
however available against a clever adversary, is of little value when
opposed to those who neither recognize the rules, nor appreciate the
nice points of the encounter.
But I cannot venture to inquire further; it would at once convict me
of ignorance, so that I appear to be satisfied with an explanation that
explains nothing. And now, Kitty, to conclude; for, though dying to tell
you that this knotty question has been fairly solved, I must seal my
letter and despatch it by Lord George, who is this moment about to set
out for the Toll-house, three miles away. It appears that two of our
guides have refused to go farther, and that we must have recourse to the
authorities to compel them. This is the object of Lord George's mission;
but the dear fellow braves every hardship and every peril for us, and
says that he would willingly encounter far more hazardous dangers
for one "kind word, or one kind look," from your distracted, but ever
devoted
Mary Anne.
They begin to fear now that some accident must have befallen the courier
with the mails; he should have passed through here at midnight. It is
now daybreak, and no sign of him! Our anxieties are terrible, and what
fate may yet be ours there is no knowing.
LETTER VII. MRS. DODD TO MRS. MARY GALLAGHER, PRIEST'S HOUSE, BRUFF.
Colico, Italy.
My dear Molly,--After fatigues and distresses that would have worn out
the strength of a rhinocerass, here we are, at length, in Italy. If you
only saw the places we came through, the mountains upon mountains of
snow, the great masses that tumbled down on every side of us, and we
lost, as one might call it, in the very midst of eternal dissolution,
you 'd naturally exclaim that you had got the last lines ever to be
traced by your friend Jemima. Two days of this, no less, my dear,
with fifteen degrees below "Nero," wherever he is, that's what I call
suffering and misery. We were twice given up for lost, and but for
Providence and a guide called--I am afraid to write it, but it answers
to Barny with us--we 'd have soon gone to our long account; and, oh,
Molly! what a reckoning will that be for K. I.! If ever there was a
heart jet black with iniquity and baseness, it is his; and he knows it;
and he knows I knows it; and more than that, the whole world shall know
it I 'll publish him through what the poet calls the "infamy of space;"
and, so long as I 'm spared, I 'll be a sting in his flesh, and a thorn
in his side.
I can't go over our journey--the very thought of it goes far with
me--but if you can imagine three females along with the Arctic voyagers,
you may form some vague idea of our perils. Bitter winds, piercing
snow-drift, pelting showers of powdered ice, starvation, and
danger,--dreadful danger,--them was the enjoyments that cost us
something over eighteen pounds! Why?--you naturally say,--why? And well
may you ask, Mrs. Gallagher. It is nothing remarkable in your saying
that this is singular and almost unintelligible. The answer, however, is
easy, and the thing itself no mystery. It's as old as Adam, my dear, and
will last as long as his family. The natural baseness and depravity
of the human heart! Oh, Molly, what a subject that is! I'm never weary
thinking of it; and, strange to say, the more you reflect the more
difficult does it become. Father Shea had an elegant remark that I often
think over: "Our bad qualities," says he, "are like noxious reptiles.
There 's no good trying to destroy them, for they 're too numerous; nor
to reclaim them, for they 're too savage; the best thing is to get out
of their way." There's a deal of fine philosophy in the observation,
Molly; and if, instead of irritating and vexing and worrying our
infirmities, we just treated them the way we should a shark or a
rattlesnake, depend upon it we 'd preserve our unanimity undisturbed,
and be happier as well as better. Maybe you 'll ask why I don't try this
plan with K. I.? But I did, Molly. I did so for fifteen years. I went
on never minding his perfidious behavior; I winked at his frailties,
and shut my eyes, as you know yourself, to Shusy Connor; but my leniency
only made him bolder in wickedness, till at last we came to that elegant
business, last summer, in Germany, that got into all the newspapers, and
made us the talk of the whole world.
I thought the lesson he got at that time taught him something. I fondly
dreamed that the shame and disgrace would be of service to him; at all
events, that it would take the conceit out of him. Vain hopes, Molly
dear,--vain and foolish hopes! He isn't a bit better; the bad dross
is in him; and my silent tears does no more good than my gentle
remonstrances.
It was only the other day we went to see a place called Pfeffers, a
dirty, dismal hole as ever you looked at I thought we were going to see
a beautiful something like Ems or Baden, with a band and a pump-room,
and fine company, and the rest of it Nothing of the kind,--but a gloomy
old building in a cleft between two mountains, that looked as if they
were going to swallow it up. The people, too, were just fit for the
place,--a miserable set of sickly creatures in flannel dresses, either
sitting up to their necks in water, or drying themselves on the rocks.
To any one else the scene would be full of serious reflections about the
uncertainty of human life, and the certainty of what was to come after
it Them was n't K. I.'s sentiments, my dear, for he begins at once what
naval men call "exchanging signals" with one of the patients. "This is
the Bad-house, my dear," says he. "I think so, Mr. D.," said I, with a
look that made him tremble. He had just ordered dinner, but I did n't
care for that; I told them to bring out the horses at once. "Come,
girls," said I, "this is no place for you; your father's proceedings are
neither very edifying nor exemplary."
"What's the matter now?" says he. "Where are we going before dinner?"
"Out of this, Mr. Dodd," said I. "Out of this at any rate."
"Where to,--what for?" cried he.
"I think you might guess," said I, with a sneer; "but if not, perhaps
that hussy with the spotted gingham could aid you to the explanation."
He was so overwhelmed at my discovering this, Molly, that he was
speechless; not a word,--not a syllable could he utter. He sat down on a
stone, and wiped his head with a handkerchief.
"Don't make me ill, Mrs. D.," said he, at last. "I 've a notion that the
gout is threatening me."
"If that's all, K. I.," said I, "it's well for you,--it's well if it is
not worse than the gout. Ay, get red in the face,--be as passionate as
you please, but you shall hear the truth from me, at least; I mayn't
be long here to tell it. Sufferings such as I 've gone through will
do their work at last; but I 'll fulfil my duty to my family till I
'm released--" With that I gave it to him, till we arrived at Coire,
eighteen miles, and a good part of it up hill, and you may think what
that was. At all events, Molly, he did n't come off with flying colors,
for when we reached a place called Spluegen he was seized with the gout
in earnest I only wish you saw the hole he pitched upon to be laid
up in; but it's like everything else the man does. Every trait of his
character shows that he has n't a thought, nor a notion, but about his
own comforts and his own enjoyments. And I told him so. I said to him,
"Don't think that your self-indulgence and indolence go down with _me_
for easiness of temper: that's an imposture may do very well for the
_world_, but your wife can't be taken in by it." In a word, Molly, I
didn't spare him; and as his attack was a sharp one, I think it's
likely he does n't look back to the Spluegen with any very grateful
reminiscences.
Little I thought, all the time, what good cause I had for my complaints,
nor what was in store for me in the very middle of the snow! You must
know that we had to take the wheels off the carriage and put it on
something like a pair of big skates, for the snow was mountains high,
and as soft as an egg-pudding. You may think what floundering we had
through it for twelve hours, sometimes sinking up to the chin, now
swimming, now digging, and now again being dragged out of it by ropes,
till we came to what they call the "Refuge-house;" a pretty refuge,
indeed, with no door, and scarcely a window, and everybody--guides,
postboys, diggers, and travellers--all hickledy-pickledy inside! There
we were, my dear, without a bed, or even a mattress, and nothing to eat
but a bottle of Sir Robert Peel's sauce, that K. I. had in his trunk,
with a case of eau-de-Cologne to wash it down. Fortunately for me my
feelings got the better of me, and I sobbed and screeched myself to
rest. When I awoke in the morning, I heard from Mary Anne that another
family, and English too, were in the refuge with us, and, to all
appearance, not ill-supplied with the necessaries of life. This much I
perceived myself, for the courier lit a big fire on the hearth, and laid
a little table beside it, as neat and comfortable as could be. After
that he brought out a coffee-pot and boiled the coffee, and made a plate
of toast, and fried a dish of ham-rashers and eggs. The very fizzing of
them on the fire, Molly, nearly overcame me! But that wasn't all; but he
put down on the table a case of sardines and a glass bowl of beautiful
honey, just as if he wanted to make my suffering unbearable. It was all
I could do to stand it. At last, when he had everything ready, he went
to a door at the end of the room and knocked. Something was said inside
that I didn't catch, but he answered quickly, "Oui, Madame," and a
minute after out they walked. Oh, Molly, there 's not words in the
language to express even half of my feelings at that moment. Indeed,
for a minute or two I would n't credit my senses, but thought it was an
optical confusion. In she flounced, my dear, just as if she was walking
into the Court of St. James's, with one arm within his, and the other
hand gracefully holding up her dress, and _he_, with a glass stuck in
his eye, gave us a look as he passed just as if we were the people of
the place.
Down they sat in all state, smiling at each other, and settling their
napkins as coolly as if they were at the Clarendon. "Will you try a
rasher, my dear?" "Thanks, love; I'll trouble you." It was "love" and
"dear" every word with them; and such looks as passed, Molly, I am
ashamed even to think of it! Heaven knows I never looked that way at K.
I. There I sat watching them; for worlds I could n't take my eyes away;
and though Mary Anne whispered and implored, and even tried to force me,
I was chained to the spot. To be sure, it's little they minded me! They
talked away about Lady Sarah This and Sir Joseph That; wondered if the
Marquis had gone down to Scotland, and whether the Duchess would meet
them at Milan. As I told you before, Molly, I was n't quite sure my eyes
did n't betray me, and while I was thus struggling with my doubts, in
came K. I. "I was over the whole place, Jemi," said he, "and there 's
not a scrap of victuals to be had for love or money. They say, however,
that there 's an English family--" When he got that far, he stopped
short, for his eyes just fell on the pair at breakfast.
"May I never, Mrs. D.," said he, "but that's our friend Mrs. G. H. As
sure as I'm here, that's herself and no other."
"And of course quite a surprise to you," said I, with a look, Molly,
that went through him.
"Faith, I suppose so," said he, trying to laugh. "I wasn't exactly
thinking of her at this moment. At all events, the meeting is fortunate;
for one might die of hunger here."
I need n't tell you, Molly, that I 'd rather endure the trials of
Tartary than I 'd touch a morsel belonging to her; but before I could
say so, up he goes to the table, bowing, and smiling, and smirking in
a way that I 'm sure he thought quite irresistible. She, however, never
looked up from her teacup, but her companion stuck his glass in his eye,
and stared impudently without speaking.
[Illustration: 088]
"If I 'm not greatly mistaken," said K. I., "I have the honor and the
happiness to see before me--"
"Mistake,--quite a mistake, my good man. Au! au!" said the other,
cutting him short. "Never saw you before in my life!"
"Nor are _you_, sir, the object of my recognition. It is this
lady,--Mrs. Gore Hampton."
She lifted her head at this, and stared at K. I. as coldly as if he was
a wax image in a hairdresser's window.
"Don't you remember me, ma'am?" says he, in a soft voice; "or must I
tell you my name?"
"I'm afraid even that, sir, would not suffice," said she, with a most
insulting smile of compassion.
"Ain't you Mrs. Gore Hampton, ma'am?" asked he, trembling all over
between passion and astonishment.
"Pray, do send him away, Augustus," said she, sipping her tea.
"Don't you perceive, sir--eh, au--don't you see--that it's a au--au,
eh--a misconception--a kind of a demned blunder?"
"I tell you what I see, sir," said K. I,--"I see a lady that travelled
day and night in my company, and with no other companion too, for two
hundred and seventy miles; that lived in the same hotel, dined at the
same table, and, what's more--"
But I could n't bear it any longer, Molly. Human nature is not strong
enough for trials like this,--to hear him boasting before my face of his
base behavior, and to see her sitting coolly by listening to it. I gave
a screech that made the house ring, and went off in the strongest fit of
screaming ever I took in my life. I tore my cap to tatters, and pulled
down my hair,--and, indeed, if what they say be true, my sufferings must
have been dreadful; for I didn't leave a bit of whisker on one of the
guides, and held another by the cheek till he was nigh insensible. I was
four hours coming to myself; but many of the others were n't in a much
better state when it was all over. The girls were completely overcome,
and K. I. taken with spasms, that drew him up like a football. Meanwhile
_she_ and her friend were off; never till the last minute as much as
saying one word to any of us, but going away, as I may say, with colors
flying, and all the "horrors of war."
Oh, Molly, was n't that more than mere human fragility is required to
bear, not to speak of the starvation and misery in my weak state? Black
bread and onions, that was our dinner, washed down with the sourest
vinegar, called wine forsooth, I ever tasted. And that's the way we
crossed the Alps, my dear, and them the pleasures that accompanied us
into the beautiful South.
If I wanted a proof of K. I.'s misconduct, Molly, was n't this scene
decisive? Where would be the motive of her behavior, if it was n't
conscious guilt? That was the ground I took in discussing the subject
as we came along; and a more lamentable spectacle of confounded iniquity
than he exhibited I never beheld. To be sure, I did n't spare him much,
and jibed him on the ingratitude his devotion met with, till he grew
nearly purple with passion. "Mrs. D.," said he, at last, "when we lived
at home, in Ireland, we had our quarrels like other people, about the
expense of the house, and waste in the kitchen, the time the horses was
kept out under the rain, and such-like,--but it never occurred to you to
fancy me a gay Lutherian. What the ------ has put that in your head
now? Is it coming abroad? for, if so, that's another grudge I owe this
infernal excursion!"
"You've just guessed it, Mr. Dodd, then," said I. "When you were at home
in your own place, you were content like the other old fools of your
own time of life, with a knowing glance of the eye, a sly look, and
maybe a passing word or two, to a pretty girl; but no sooner did you
put foot on foreign ground than you fancied yourself a lady-killer! You
never saw how absurd you were, though I was telling it to you day and
night. You would n't believe how the whole world was laughing at you,
though I said so to the girls."
I improved on this theme till we came at nightfall to the foot of the
Alps, and by that time--take my word for it, Mrs. Gallagher--there was
n't much more to be said on the subject.
New troubles awaited us here, Molly. I wonder will they ever end? You
may remember that I told you how the wheels was taken off our carriage
to put it on a sledge on account of the snow. Well, my dear, what do
you think the creatures did, but they sent our wheels over the Great
St. Bernardt,--I think they call it,--and when we arrived here we found
ourselves on the hard road without any wheels to the coach, but sitting
with the axles in the mud! I only ask you where's the temper can stand
that? And worse, too, for K. I. sat down on a stone to look at us, and
laughed till the tears run down his wicked old cheeks and made him look
downright horrid.
[Illustration: 090]
"May I never!" said he, "but I 'd come the whole way from Ireland for
one hearty laugh like this! It's the only thing I 've yet met that
requites me for coming! If I live fifty years, I'll never forget it."
I perceive that I have n't space for the reply I made him, so that I
must leave you to fill it up for yourself, and believe me your
Ever attached and suffering
Jemima Dodd.
LETTER VIII. JAMES DODD TO LORD GEORGE TIVERTON, M. P., POSTE RESTANTE, BREGENZ.
Hotel of All Nations, Baths of Homburg.
My dear Tiverton,--You often said I was a fellow to make a spoon or
spoil a--something which I have forgotten--and I begin to fancy that
you were a better prophet than that fellow in "Bell's Life" who always
predicts the horse that does _not_ win the Oaks. When we parted a few
days ago, my mind was resolutely bent on becoming another Metternich or
Palmerston. I imagined a whole life of brilliant diplomatic successes,
and thought of myself receiving the freedom of the City of London,
dining with the Queen, and making "very pretty running" for the peerage.
What will you say, then, when I tell you that I despise the highest
honors of the entire career, and would n't take the seals of the Foreign
Office, if pressed on my acceptance this minute? To save myself from
even the momentary accusation of madness, I 'll give you--and in as few
words as I can--ray explanation. As I have just said, I set out with my
head full of Ambassadorial ambitions, and jogged along towards England,
scarcely noticing the road or speaking to my fellow-travellers. On
arriving at Frankfort, however, I saw nothing on all sides of me but
announcements and advertisements of the baths of Homburg,--"The
last week of the season, and the most brilliant of all." Gorgeous
descriptions of the voluptuous delights of the place--lists of
distinguished visitors, and spicy bits of scandal--alternated with
anecdotes of those who had "broke the bank," and were buying up all
the chateaux and parks in the neighborhood. I tried to laugh at these
pictorial puffs; I did my best to treat them as mere humbugs; but it
would n't do. I went to bed so full of them that I dreamed all night of
the play-table, and fancied myself once again the terror of croupiers,
and the admired of the fashionable circle in the _salon_. To crown all,
a waiter called me to say that the carriage I had ordered for the baths
was at the door. I attempted to undeceive him; but even there my effort
was a failure; and, convinced that there was a fate in the matter,
I jumped out of bed, dressed, and set off, firmly impressed with the
notion that I was not a free agent, but actually impelled and driven by
destiny to go and win my millions at Homburg.
Perhaps my ardor was somewhat cooled down by the aspect of the place. It
has few of the advantages nature has so lavishly bestowed on Baden,
and which really impart to that delightful resort a charm that totally
disarms you of all distrust, and make you forget that you are in a land
of "legs" and swindlers, and that every second man you meet is a rogue
or a runaway. Now, Homburg does not, as the French say, "impose" in this
way. You see at once that it is a "Hell," and that the only amusement is
to ruin or to be ruined.
"No matter," thought I; "I have already graduated at the green table; I
have taken my degree in arts at Baden, and am no young hand fresh from
Oxford and new to the Continent; I 'll just go down and try my luck--as
a fisherman whips a stream. If they rise to my fly,--well; if not, pack
up the traps, and try some other water." You know that my capital was
not a strong one,--about a hundred and thirty in cash, and a bill on
Drummond for a hundred more,--and with this, the governor had "cleared
me out" for at least six months to come. I was therefore obliged to
"come it small;" and merely dabbled away with a few "Naps.," which, by
dint of extraordinary patience and intense application, I succeeded in
accumulating to the gross total of sixty. As I foresaw that I could n't
loiter above a day longer, I went down in the evening to experimentalize
on this fund, and, after a few hours, rose a winner of thirty-two
thousand odd hundred francs. The following morning, I more than doubled
this; and in the evening, won a trifle of twenty thousand francs; when,
seeing the game take a capricious turn, I left off, and went to supper.
I was an utter stranger in the place, had not even a passing
acquaintance with any one; so that, although dying for a little
companionship, I had nothing for it but to order my roast partridge in
my own apartment, and hobnob with myself. It is true, I was in capital
spirits,--I had made glorious running, and no mistake,--and I drank my
health, and returned thanks for the toast with an eloquence that really
astonished me. Egad, I think the waiter must have thought me mad, as he
heard me hip, hipping with "one cheer more," to the sentiment.
[Illustration: 094]
I suppose I must have felt called on to sing; for sing I did, and, I
am afraid, with far more zeal than musical talent; for I overheard a
tittering of voices outside my door, and could plainly perceive that the
household had assembled as audience. What cared I for this? The world
had gone too well with me of late to make me thin-skinned or peevishly
disposed. I could afford to be forgiving and generous: and I revelled in
the very thought that I was soaring in an atmosphere to which trifling
and petty annoyances never ascended. In this enviable frame of mind was
I, when a waiter presented himself with a most obsequious bow, and, in
a voice of submissive civility, implored me to moderate my musical
transports, since the lady who occupied the adjoining apartment was
suffering terribly from headache.
"Certainly, of course," was my reply at once; and as he was leaving the
room,--just by way of having something to say,--I asked, "Is she young,
waiter?"
"Young and beautiful, sir."
"An angel, eh?"
"Quite handsome enough to be one, sir, I'm certain."
"And her name?"
"The Countess de St. Auber, widow of the celebrated Count de St. Auber,
of whom Monsieur must have read in the newspapers."
But Monsieur had not read of him, and was therefore obliged to ask
further information; whence it appeared that the Count had accidentally
shot himself on the morning of his marriage, when drawing the charge
of his pistols, preparatory to putting them in his carriage. The waiter
grew quite pathetic in his description of the young bride's agonies, and
had to wipe his eyes once or twice during his narrative.
"But she has rallied by this, hasn't she?" asked I.
"If Monsieur can call it so," said he, shrugging his shoulders. "She
never goes into the world,--knows no one,--receives no one,--lives
entirely to herself; and, except her daily ride in the wood, appears to
take no pleasure whatever in life."
"And so she rides out every day?"
"Every day, and at the same hour too. The carriage takes her about a
league into the forest, far beyond where the usual promenade extends,
and there her horses meet her, and she rides till dusk. Often it is even
night ere she returns."
There was something that interested me deeply in all this. You know that
a pretty woman on horseback is one of my greatest weaknesses; and so I
went on weaving thoughts and fancies about the charming young widow till
the champagne was finished, after which I went off to bed, intending to
dream of her, but, to my intense disgust, to sleep like a sea-calf till
morning.
My first care on waking, however, was to despatch a very humble apology
by the waiter for my noisy conduct on the previous evening, and a very
sincere hope that the Countess had not suffered on account of it.
He brought me back for answer "that the Countess thanked me for my
polite inquiry, and was completely restored."
"Able to ride out as usual?"
"Yes, sir."
"How do you know that?"
"She has just given orders for the carriage, sir."
"I say, waiter, what kind of a hack can be got here? Or, stay, is there
such a thing as a good-looking saddle-horse to be sold in the place?"
"There are two at Lagrange's stables, sir, this moment Prince
Guiciatelli has left them and his groom to pay about thirty thousand
francs he owes here."
In less than a quarter of an hour I was dressed and at the stables. The
nags were a neat pair; the groom, an English fellow, had just brought
them over. He had bought them at Anderson's, and paid close upon three
hundred for the two. It was evident that they were "too much," as
horses, for the Prince, for he had never backed either of them. Before
I left I had bought them both for six thousand francs, and taken "Bob"
himself, a very pretty specimen of the short-legged, red-whiskered
tribe, into my service.
This was on the very morning, mark, when I should have presented myself
before the dons of Downing Street, and been admitted a something into
her Majesty's service!
"I wish they may catch me at red-tapery!" thought I, as I shortened my
stirrups, and sat down firmly in the saddle. "I 'm much more at home
here than perched on an office-stool in that pleasant den they call the
'Nursery' at the Foreign Office."
Guided by a groom, with a led horse beside him, I took the road to the
forest, and soon afterwards passed a dark-green barouche, with a lady
in it, closely veiled, and evidently avoiding observation. The wood is
intersected by alleys, so that I found it easy, while diverging from the
carriage-road, to keep the equipage within view, and after about half an
hour's sharp canter, I saw the carriage stop, and the Countess descend
from it.
Even _you_ admit that I am a sharp critic about all that pertains to
riding-gear; and that as to a woman's hat, collar, gloves, habit,
and whip, I am a first-rate opinion. Now, in the present instance,
everything was perfect There was a dash of "costume" in the long
drooping feather and the snow-white gauntlets; but then all was strictly
toned down to extreme simplicity and quiet elegance. I had just time to
notice this much, and catch a glimpse of such a pair of black eyes! when
she was in the saddle at once. I only want to see a woman gather up
her reins in her hand, shake her habit back with a careless toss of
her foot, and square herself well in the saddle, to say, "That's
a horsewoman!" Egad, George, her every gesture and movement were
admirable, and the graceful bend forwards with which she struck out
into a canter was actually captivating. I stood watching her till she
disappeared in the wood, perfectly entranced. I own to you I could not
understand a Frenchwoman sitting her horse in this fashion. I had always
believed the accomplishment to be more or less English, and I felt
ashamed at the narrow prejudice into which I had fallen.
"What an unlucky fellow that same Count must have been!" thought I; and
with this reflection I spurred my nag into a sharp pace, hoping that
fast motion might enable me to turn my thoughts into some other channel.
It was to no use. Go how I would, or where I would, I could think of
nothing but the pretty widow,--whither she might be travelling,--where
she intended to stop,--whether alone, or with others of her family,--her
probable age,--her fortune?--all would rise up before me, to trouble my
curiosity or awaken my interest.
I was deep in my speculations, when suddenly a horse bounded past me by
a cross path. I had barely time to see the flutter of a habit, when
it was lost to view. I waited to see her groom follow, but he did not
appear. I listened, but no sound of a horse could be heard approaching.
Had her horse run away? Had her servant lost trace of her? were
questions that immediately occurred to me; but there was nothing to
suggest the answer or dispel the doubt I could bear my anxiety no
longer, and away I dashed after her. It was not till after a quarter
of an hour that I came in sight of her, and then she was skimming along
over the even turf at a very slapping pace, which, however, I quickly
perceived was no run-away gallop.
[Illustration: 104]
This fact proclaimed itself in a most unmistakable manner, for she
suddenly drew up, and wheeled about, pointing at the same time to the
ground, where her whip had just fallen. I dashed up and dismounted,
when, in a voice tremulous with agitation, and with a face suffused in
blushes, she begged my pardon for her gesture; she believed it was her
groom who was following her, and had never noticed his absence before.
I cannot repeat her words, but in accent, manner, tone, and utterance,
I never heard the like of them before. What would I have given at that
moment, George, for your glib facility of French! Hang me if I would not
have paid down a thousand pounds to have been able to rattle out even
some of those trashy commonplaces I have seen you scatter with such
effect in the _coulisses_ of the opera! It was all of no avail. "Where
there 's a will there 's a way," says the adage; but it's a sorry maxim
where a foreign language is concerned. All the volition in the world
won't supply irregular verbs; and the most go-ahead resolution will
never help one to genders.
I did, of course, mutter all that I could think of; and, default of
elocution, I made my eyes do duty for my tongue, and with tolerable
success too, as her blush betrayed. I derived one advantage, too, from
my imperfect French, which is worth recording,--I was perfectly obdurate
as to anything she might have replied in opposition to my wishes,
and notwithstanding all her scruples to the contrary, persisted in
accompanying her back to the town.
If I was delighted with her horsemanship, I was positively enchanted
with her conversation; for, the first little novelty of our situation
over, she talked away with a frank innocence and artless ease which
quite fascinated me. She was, in fact, the very realization of that
high-bred manner you have so often told me of as characterizing the best
French society. How I wished I could have prolonged that charming ride!
I 'm not quite sure that she did n't detect me in a purposed mistake of
the road, that cost us an additional mile or two; if she did, she
was gracious enough to pardon the offence without even showing
any consciousness of it. Short as the road was, George, it left me
irretrievably in love. I know you 'll not stand any raptures about
beauty, but this much I must and will say, that she is incomparably
handsomer than that Sicilian princess you raved about at Ems, and in
the same style too,--brunette, but with a dash of color in the cheek, a
faint pink, that gives a sparkling brilliancy to the rich warmth of the
southern tint. Besides this,--and let me remark, it is something,--_my_
Countess is not two-and-twenty, at most. Indeed, but for the story of
the widowhood, I should guess her as something above nineteen.
There 's a piece of fortune for you! and all--every bit of it--of my
own achieving too! No extraneous aid in the shape of friends, or
introductory letters. "Alone I did it," as the fellow says in the play.
Now, I do think a man might be pardoned a little boastfulness for such a
victory, and I freely own I esteem Jem Dodd a sharper fellow than I ever
believed him.
Perhaps you suspect all this while that I am going too fast, and that
I have taken a casual success for a regular victory. If so, you 're all
wrong, my boy. She has struck her flag already, and acknowledged that
your humble servant has effected a change in her sentiments that but a
few short weeks before she would have pronounced impossible. The truth
is, George, "the Tipperary tactics" that win battles in India are just
as successful in love. Make no dispositions for a general engagement,
never trouble your head about cavalry supports, reserves, or the like,
but "just go in and win." It is a mighty short "General Order," and
cannot possibly be misapprehended. The Countess herself has acknowledged
to me, full half a dozen times within the last fortnight, that she was
quite unprepared for such warfare. She expected, doubtless, that I 'd
follow the old rubric, with opera-boxes, bouquets, _marrons glaces_, and
so on, for a month or two. Nothing of the kind, George. I frankly told
her that she was the most beautiful creature in Europe without knowing
it. That it would be little short of a sacrilege she should pass her
life in solitude and sorrow, and ten times worse than sacrilege to marry
anything but an Irishman. That in all other countries the men are either
money-getting, ambitious, or selfish, but that Paddy turns his whole
thoughts towards fun and enjoyment. That Napier's Peninsular War and
Moore's Melodies might be referred to for evidence of our national
tastes; and, in short, such a people for fighting and making love was
never recorded in history. She laughed at me for the whole of the first
week, grew more serious the second, and now, within the last three days,
instead of calling me "Monsieur le Sauvage," "Cosaque Anglais," and so
on, she gravely asks my advice about everything, and never ventures on
a step without my counsel and approbation. I have been candid with you
hitherto, Tiverton, and so I must frankly own that, profiting by the
adage that says "stratagem is equally legitimate in love as in war," I
have indulged slightly in the strategy of mystification. For instance,
I have represented the governor as a great don in his own country,
with immense estates, and an ancient title, that he does not assume in
consequence of some old act of attainder against the family. My mother
I have made a princess in her own right; and here I am on safer ground,
for, if called into court, she 'll sustain me in every assertion. Of my
own self and prospects I have spoken meekly enough, merely hinting that
I dislike diplomacy, and would rather live with the woman of my choice
in some comparatively less distinguished station, upon a pittance
of--say--three or four thousand a year!
This latter assumption, I must observe to you, is the only one ever
disputed between us, and many a debate have we had on the subject. She
sees, as everybody sees here, that I spend money lavishly, that not
only I indulge in everything costly, but that I outbid even the Russians
whenever anything is offered for sale; and at this moment my rooms are
filled with pictures, china, carved ivory, stained glass, and other such
lumber, that I only bought for the _eclat_ of the purchase. If you
only heard her innocent remonstrances to me about my extravagance, her
anxious appeals as to what "le Prince," as she calls my father, will say
to all this wastefulness!
It's a great trial to me sometimes not to laugh at all this, and,
indeed, if I did n't know in my heart that I 'll make her the very best
of husbands, I 'd be even ashamed of my deceit; but it's only a pious
fraud after all, and the good result will more than atone for the
roguery.
I have hinted at our marriage, you see, and I may add that it is all
but decided on. There is, however, a difficulty which must be got over
first. She was betrothed when a child to a young Neapolitan Prince of
the blood,--a brother, I take it, of the present King. This ceremony
was overlooked on her first marriage; and had her husband lived,
very serious consequences--but of what kind I don't know--might
have resulted. Now, before contracting a second union, we must get a
dispensation of some sort from the Pope, which I fear will take time,
although she says that her uncle, the Cardinal, will do his utmost to
expedite it.
Indeed, I may mention, incidentally, that she is a great favorite with
his Eminence, and _we_ hope to be his heirs! Egad, George, I almost
fancy myself "punting" his Eminence's gold pieces at hazard, with his
signet-ring on my finger! What a house I'll keep, old fellow! what a
stable! what a cellar!--and such cigars! Meanwhile I look to you to aid
and abet me in various ways. The Countess, like all foreigners of real
rank, knows our peerage and nobility off by heart; and she constantly
asks me if I know the Marquis of this, and the Duchess of that, and I 'm
sorely put to, to show cause why I 'm not intimate with them all. Now,
my dear Tiverton, can't you somehow give me the Shibboleth amongst these
high-priests of Fashion, and get me into the Tabernacle, if only for a
season? I used myself to know some of the swells of London life when I
was at Baden, but, to be sure, I lost a deal of money to them at "creps"
and "lansquenet" as the price of the intimacy; and when "_I_ shut up,"
so did _they_ too. You, I'm sure, however, will hit upon some expedient
to gain me at least acceptance and recognition for a week or two. I only
want the outward signs of acquaintanceship, mark you, for I honestly own
that all I ever saw during my brief intimacy with these fellows gave me
anything but a high "taste of their quality."
I'll enclose you the list of the distinguished company now here, and
you 'll pick out any to whom you can present me. Another, and not a less
important service, I also look to at your hands, which is, to break all
this to the governor, to whom I 'm half ashamed to write myself. In
the first place, a recent event, of which I may speak more fully to you
hereafter, may have made the old gent somewhat suspectful; and secondly,
he 'll be fraptious about my not going over to England; although, I
'll take my oath, if he wants it, that I 'd pitch up the appointment
to-morrow, if I had it At the best, I don't suppose they 'd make me
more than a Secretary of Legation; and _that_, perhaps, at the Hague, or
Stuttgard, or some other confounded capital of fog and flunkeydom; and I
need n't say your friend Jem is not going to "enter for such stakes."
You 'd like to know our plans; and so far as I can make out, we're not
to marry till we reach Italy. At Milan, probably, the dispensation will
reach us, and the ceremony will be performed by the Arch B.. himself.
This she insists upon; for about church matters and dignitaries she
stickles to a degree that I 'd laugh at if I dare; and that I intend to
do later on, when I can _dare_ with impunity.
Except this, and a most inordinate amount of prudery, she hasn't a
fault on earth. Her reserve is, however, awful; and I almost spoiled
everything t' other evening by venturing to kiss her hand before she
drew her glove on. By Jove, did n't she give me a lecture! If any one
had only overheard her, I 'm not sure they would n't have thought me a
lucky fellow to get off with transportation for life! As it was, I
had to enter into heavy recognizances for the future, and was even
threatened with having Mademoiselle Pauline, her maid, present at all
our subsequent meetings! The very menace made me half crazy!
After all, the fault is on the right side; and I suppose the day will
come when I shall deem it the very reverse of a failing. You will be
curious to know something about her fortune, but not a whit more so
than I am. That her means are ample--even splendid--her style of
living evidences. The whole "premier" of a fashionable hotel, four
saddle-horses, two carriages, and a tribe of servants are a strong
security for a well-filled purse; but more than that I can ascertain
nothing.
As for myself, my supplies will only carry me through a very short
campaign, so that I am driven of necessity to hasten matters as much as
possible. Now, my dear Tiverton, you know my whole story; and I beg you
to lose no time in giving me your very best and shrewdest counsels. Put
me up to everything you can think of about settlements, and so forth;
and tell me if marrying a foreigner in any way affects my nationality.
In brief, turn the thing over in your mind in all manner of ways, and
let me have the result.
She is confoundedly particular about knowing that my family approve
of the match; and though I have represented myself as being perfectly
independent of them on the score of fortune,--which, so far as not
expecting a shilling from them, is strictly true,--I shall probably
be obliged to obtain something in the shape of a formal consent and
paternal benediction; in which case I reckon implicitly on you to
negotiate the matter.
I have been just interrupted by the arrival of a packet from Paris. It
is a necklace and some other trumpery I had sent for to "Le Roux." She
is in ecstasy with it, but cannot conceal her terror at my extravagance.
The twenty thousand francs it cost are a cheap price for the remark the
present elicited: "My miserable 'rente' of a hundred thousand francs,"
said she, "will be nothing to a man of such wasteful habits." So, then,
we have, four thousand a year, certain, George; and, as times go, one
might do worse.
I have no time for more, as we are going to ride out Write to me at
once, like a good fellow, and give all your spare thoughts to the
fortunes of your ever attached friend,
James Dodd.
Address me Lucerne, for _she_ means to remove from this at once,--the
gossips having already taken an interest in us more flattering than
agreeable. I shall expect a letter from you at the post-office.
LETTER IX. MISS MARY ANNE DODD TO THOMAS PURCELL, ESQ., OF THE GRANGE, BRUFF
Villa della Fontana, Lake of Como
My dear Mr. Purcell,--Poor papa has been so ill since his arrival in
Italy, that he could not reply to either of your two last letters,
and even now is compelled to employ me as his amanuensis. A misfortune
having occurred to our carriage, we were obliged to stop at a small
village called Colico, which, as the name implies, was remarkably
unhealthy. Here the gout, that had been hovering over him for some
days previous, seized him with great violence; no medical aid could
be obtained nearer than Milan, a distance of forty miles, and you may
imagine the anxiety and terror we all suffered during the interval
between despatching the messenger and the arrival of the doctor. As
it was, we did not succeed in securing the person we had sent for, he
having been that morning sentenced to the galleys for having in his
possession some weapon--a surgical instrument, I believe--that was
longer or sharper than the law permits; but Dr. Pantuccio came in his
stead, and we have every reason to be satisfied with his skill and
kindness. He bled papa very largely on Monday, twice on Tuesday, and
intends repeating it again to-day, if the strength of the patient allow
of it. The debility resulting from all this is, naturally, very great;
but papa is able to dictate to me a few particulars in reply to your
last. First, as to Crowther's bill of costs: he says, "that he certainly
cannot pay it at present," nor does he think he ever will. I do not know
how much of this you are to tell Mr. C., but you will be guided by your
own discretion in that, as on any other point wherein I may be doubtful.
Harris also must wait for his money--and be thankful when he gets it.
You will make no abatement to Healey, but try and get the farm out of
his hands, by any means, before he sublets it and runs away to America.
Tom Dunne's house, at the cross-roads, had better be repaired; and if a
proper representation was made to the Castle about the disturbed state
of the country, papa thinks it might be made a police-station, and
probably bring twenty pounds a year. He does not like to let Dodsborough
for a "Union;" he says it's time enough when we go back there to make it
a poorhouse. As to Paul Davis, he says, "let him foreclose, if he likes;
for there are three other claims before his, and he 'll only burn his
fingers,"--whatever that means.
Papa will give nothing to the schoolhouse till he goes back and examines
the children himself; but you are to continue his subscription to the
dispensary, for he thinks overpopulation is the real ruin of Ireland. I
don't exactly understand what he says about allowance for improvements,
and he is not in a state to torment him with questions; but it appears
to me that you are not to allow anything to anybody till some
Bill passes, or does not pass, and after that it is to be arranged
differently. I am afraid poor papa's head was wandering here, for he
mumbled something about somebody being on a "raft at sea," and hoped he
wouldn't go adrift, and I don't know what besides.
Your post-bill arrived quite safe; but the sum is totally insufficient,
and below what he expected. I am sure, if you knew how much irritation
it cost him, you would take measures to make a more suitable remittance.
I think, on the whole, till papa is perfectly recovered, it would be
better to avoid any irritating or unpleasant topics; and if you would
talk encouragingly of home prospects, and send him money frequently, it
would greatly contribute to his restoration.
I may add, on mamma's part and my own, the assurance of our being ready
to submit to any privation, or even misery if necessary, to bring papa's
affairs into a healthier condition. Mamma will consent to anything but
living in Ireland, which, indeed, I think is more than could be expected
from her. As it is, we keep no carriage here, nor have any equipage
whatever; our table is simply two courses, and some fruit. We are
wearing out all our old-fashioned clothes, and see nobody. If you can
suggest any additional mode of economizing, mamma begs you will favor
us with a line; meanwhile, she desires me to say that any allusion to
"returning to Dodsborough," or any plan "for living abroad as we lived
at home" will only embitter the intercourse, which, to be satisfactory,
should be free from any irritation between us.
Of course, for the present you will write to mamma, as papa is far from
being fit for any communication on matters of business, nor does the
doctor anticipate his being able for such for some weeks to come.
We have not heard from James since he left this, but are anxiously
expecting a letter by every post, and even to see his name in the
"Gazette." Cary does not forget that she was always your favorite, and
desires me to send her very kindest remembrances, with which I beg you
to accept those of very truly yours,
Mart Anne Dodd.
P. S. As it is quite uncertain when papa will be equal to any exertion,
mamma thinks it would be advisable to make your remittances, for some
time, payable to her name.
The doctor of the dispensary has written to papa, asking his support
at some approaching contest for some situation,--I believe under the
Poor-law. Will you kindly explain the reasons for which his letter has
remained unreplied to? and if papa should not be able to answer, perhaps
you could take upon yourself to give him the assistance he desires, as
I know pa always esteemed him a very competent person, and kind to
the poor. Of course the suggestion is only thrown out for your own
consideration, and in strict confidence besides, for I make it a point
never to interfere with any of the small details of pa's property.
LETTER X. MRS. DODD TO MRS. MARY GALLAGHER, DODSBOROUGH
My dear Molly,--I received your letter in due course, and if it was n't
for crying, I could have laughed heartily over it! I don't know, I'm
sure, where you got your elegant description of the Lake of Comus; but I
am obliged to tell you it's very unlike the real article; at all events,
there 's one thing I 'm sure of,--it's a very different matter living
here like Queen Caroline, and being shut up in the same house with K.
I.; and therefore no more balderdash about my "queenly existence," and
so on, that your last was full of.
Here we are, in what they call the Villa of the Fountains, as if there
was n't water enough before the door but they must have it spouting
up out of a creature's nose in one corner, another blowing it out of a
shell, and three naked figures--females, Molly--dancing in a pond of
it in the garden, that kept me out of the place till I had them covered
with an old mackintosh of K. I.'s. We have forty-seven rooms, and
there's barely furniture, if it was all put together, for four; and
there 's a theatre, and a billiard-room, and a chapel; but there 's
not a chair would n't give you the lumbago, and the stocks at Bruff is
pleasant compared to the grand sofa. The lake comes round three sides of
the house, and a mountain shuts in the other one, for there 's no road
whatever to it. You think I 'm not in earnest, but it's as true as I 'm
here; the only approach is by water, so that everything has to come in
boats. Of course, as long as the weather keeps fine, we 'll manage to
send into the town; but when there comes--what we 're sure to have in
this season--aquenoctial gales, I don't know what 's to become of us.
The natives of the place don't care, for they can live on figs and
olives, and those great big green pumpkins they call watermelons; but,
after K. I.'s experience, I don't think we'll try _them_. It was at a
little place on the way here, called Colico, that he insisted on having
a slice of one of these steeped in rum for his supper, because he saw
a creature eating it outside the door. Well, my dear, he relished it
so much that he ate two, and--you know the man--would n't stop till he
finished a whole melon as big as one of the big stones over the gate
piers at home.
"Jemi," says he, when he'd done, "is this the place the hand-book says
you should n't eat any fruit in, or taste the wines of the country?"
"I don't see that," said I; "but Murray says it's notorious for March
miasma, which is most fatal in the fall of the year."
"What's the name of it?" said he.
I could n't say the word before he gave a screech out of him that made
the house ring.
"I 'm a dead man," says he; "that's the very place I was warned about."
From that minute the pains begun, and he spent the whole night in
torture. Lord George, the kindest creature that ever breathed, got out
of his bed and set off to Milan for a doctor, but it was late in the
afternoon when he got back. Half an hour later, Molly, and it would
have been past saving him. As it was, he bled him as if he was veal: for
that's the new system, my dear, and it's the blood that does us all the
harm, and works all the wickedness we suffer from. If it's true, K. I.
will get up an altered man, for I don't think a horse could bear what he
's gone through. Even now he 's as gentle as an infant, Molly, and you
would n't know his voice if you heard it. We only go in one at a time to
him, except Cary, that never leaves him, and, indeed, he would n't
let her quit the room. Sometimes I fancy that he 'll never be the same
again, and from a remark or two of the doctor's, I suspect it's his
head they 're afraid of. If it was n't English he raved in, I 'd be
dreadfully ashamed of the things he says, and the way he talks of the
family.
As it is, he makes cruel mistakes; for he took Lord George the other
night for James, and began talking to him, and warning him against his
Lordship. "Don't trust him too far, Jemmy," said he. "If he was n't in
disgrace with his equals, he 'd never condescend to keep company with
us. Depend on 't, boy, he 's not 'all right,' and I wish we were well
rid of him."
Lord George tried to make him believe that he did n't understand him,
And said something about the Parliament being prorogued, but K. I. went
on: "I suppose, then, our noble friend did n't get his Bill through the
Lords?"
"His mind is quite astray to-night," said Lord George, in a whisper, and
made a sign for us to creep quietly away, and leave him to Caroline.
She understands him best of any of us; and, indeed, one sees her to more
advantage when there 's trouble and misery in the house than when we 're
all well and prosperous.
We came here for economy, because K. I. determined we should go
somewhere that money couldn't be spent in. Now, as there is no road, we
cannot have horses; and as there are no shops, we cannot make purchases;
but, except for the name of the thing, Molly, might n't we as well be
at Bruff? I would n't say so to one of the family, but to you, in
confidence between ourselves, I own freely I never spent a more dismal
three weeks at Dodsborough. Betty Cobb and myself spend our time crying
over it the livelong day. Poor creature, she has her own troubles too!
That dirty spalpeen she married ran away with all her earnings, and even
her clothes; and Mary Anne's maid says that he has two other wives in
his own country. She 's made a nice fool of herself, and she sees it
now.
How long we're to stay here in this misery, I can't guess, and K. I.'s
convalescence may be, the doctor thinks, a matter of months; and even
then, Molly, who knows in what state he 'll come out of it! Nobody
can tell if we won't be obliged to take what they call a Confession of
Lunacy against him, and make him allow that he's mad and unfit to manage
his affairs. If it was the will of Providence, I 'd just as soon be a
widow at once; for, after all, it's uncertainty that tries the spirits
and destroys the constitution worse than any other affliction.
Indeed, till yesterday afternoon, we all thought he was going off in
a placid sleep; but he opened one eye a little, and bade Cary draw the
window-curtain, that he might look out. He stared for a while at the
water coming up to the steps of the door, and almost entirely round the
house, and he gave a little smile. "What's he thinking of?" said I, in a
whisper; but he heard me at once, and said, "I 'll tell you, Jemi, what
it was. I was thinking this was an elegant place against the bailiffs."
From that moment I saw that the raving had left him, and he was quite
himself again.
Now, my dear Molly, you have a true account of the life we lead, and
don't you pity us? If your heart does not bleed for me this minute, I
don't know you. Write to me soon, and send me the Limerick papers, that
has all the news about the Exhibition in Dublin. By all accounts it's
doing wonderfully well, and I often wish I could see it. Cary has just
come down to take her half-hour's walk on the terrace,--for K. I. makes
her do that every evening, though he never thinks of any of the rest of
us,--and I must go and take her place; so I write myself
Yours in haste, but in sorrow,
Jemima Dodd
LETTER XI. MISS MARY ANNE DODD TO MISS DOOLAN, OF BALLYDOOLAN
Villa della Fontana, Como.
Forget thee! No, dearest Kitty. But how could such cruel words have ever
escaped your pen? To cease to retain you in memory would be to avow an
oblivion of childhood's joys, and of my youth's fondest recollections;
of those first expansions of the heart, when, "fold after fold to the
fainting air," the petals of my young existence opened one by one
before you; when my shadowy fancies grew into bright realities, and the
dream-world assumed all the lights and, alas! all the shadows of the
actual. The fact was, dearest, papa was very, very ill; I may, indeed,
say so dangerously, that at one time our greatest fears were excited for
his state; nor was it till within a few days back that I could really
throw off all apprehension and revel in that security enjoyed by the
others. He is now up for some hours every day, and able to take light
sustenance, and even to participate a little in social intercourse,
which of course we are most careful to moderate, with every regard to
his weak state; but his convalescence makes progress every hour, and
already he begins to talk and laugh, and look somewhat like himself.
So confused is my poor head, and so disturbed by late anxieties, that
I quite forget if I have written to you since our arrival here; at all
events, I will venture on the risk of repetition so far, and say that we
are living in a beautiful villa, in a promontory of the Lake of Como. It
was the property of the Prince Belgiasso, who is now in exile from
his share in the late struggle for Italian independence, and who,
in addition to banishment, is obliged to pay above a million of
livres--about forty thousand pounds--to the Austrian Government. Lord
George, who knew him intimately in his prosperity, arranged to take the
villa for us; and it is confessedly one of the handsomest on the whole
lake. Imagine, Kitty, a splendid marble facade, with a Doric portico, so
close to the water's edge that the whole stands reflected in the crystal
flood; an Alpine mountain at the back; while around and above us the
orange and the fig, the vine, the olive, the wild cactus, and the cedar
wave their rich foliage, and load the soft air with perfume. It is not
alone that Nature unfolds a scene of gorgeous richness and beauty before
us; that earth, sky, and water show forth their most beautiful of forms
and coloring; but there is, as it were, an atmosphere of voluptuous
enjoyment, an inward sense of ecstatic delight, that I never knew nor
felt in the colder lands of the north. The very names have a magic in
their melody; the song of the passing gondolier; the star-like lamp of
the "pescatore," as night steals over the water; the skimming lateen
sail,--all breathe of Italy,--glorious, delightful, divine Italy!--land
of song, of poetry, and of love!
Oh, how my dearest Kitty would enjoy those delicious nights upon the
terrace, where, watching the falling stars, or listening to the far-off
sounds of sweet music, we sit for hours long, scarcely speaking! How
responsively would her heart beat to the plash of the lake against her
rocky seat! and how would her gentle spirit drink in every soothing
influence of that fair and beauteous scene! With Lord George it is a
passion; and I scarcely know him to be the same being that he was on the
other side of the Alps. Young men of fashion in England assume a certain
impassive, cold, apathetic air, as though nothing could move them to any
sentiment of surprise, admiration, or curiosity about anything; and when
by an accident these emotions are excited, the very utmost expression in
which their feelings find vent is some piece of town slang,--the turf,
the mess-room, the universities, and, I believe, even the House of
Commons, are the great nurseries of this valuable gift; and as Lord
George has graduated in each of these schools, I take it he was no mean
proficient. But how different was the real metal that lay buried under
the lacquer of conventionality! Why, dearest Kitty, he is the very soul
of passion,--the wildest, most enthusiastic of creatures; he worships
Byron, he adores Shelley. He has told me the whole story of his
childhood,--one of the most beautiful romances I ever listened to. He
passed his youth at Oxford, vacillating between the wildest dissipations
and the most brilliant triumphs. After that he went into the Hussars,
and then entered the House, moving the Address, as it is called, at
one-and-twenty; a career exactly like the great Mr. Pitt's, only that
Lord G. really possesses a range of accomplishments and a vast variety
of gifts to which the Minister could lay no claim. Amidst all these
revelations, poured forth with a frank and almost reckless impetuosity,
it was still strange, Kitty, that he never even alluded to the one great
and turning misfortune of his life. He did at one time seem approaching
it; I thought it was actually on his lips; but he only heaved a deep
sigh, and said, "There is yet another episode to tell you,--the darkest,
the saddest of all,--but I cannot do it now." I thought he might have
heard my heart beating, as he uttered these words; but he was too deeply
buried in his own grief. At last he broke the silence that ensued, by
pressing my hand fervently to his lips, and saying, "But when the time
comes for this, it will also bring the hour for laying myself and
my fortunes at your feet,--for calling you by the dearest of all
names,--for--"Only fancy, Kitty,--it was just as he got this far that
Cary, who really has not a single particle of delicacy in such cases,
came up to ask me where she could find some lemons to make a drink for
papa! I know I shall never forgive her--I feel that I never can--for her
heartless interruption. What really aggravates her conduct, too, was the
kind of apology she subsequently made to me in my own room. Just imagine
her saying,--
"I was certain it would be a perfect boon to you to get away from that
tiresome creature."
If you only saw him, Kitty! if you only heard him! But all I said was,--
"There is certainly the merit of a discovery in your remark, Cary; for
I fancy you are the first who has found out Lord George Tiverton to be
tiresome!"
"I only meant," said she, "that his eternal egotism grows wearisome at
last, and that the most interesting person in the world would benefit by
occasionally discussing something besides himself."
"Captain Morris, for instance," said I, sharply.
"Even so," said she, laughing; "only I half suspect the theme is one he
'll not touch upon!" And with this she left the room.
The fact is, Kitty, jealousy of Lord George's rank, his high station,
and his aristocratic connections are the real secret of her animosity to
him. She feels and sees how small "her poor Captain" appears beside him,
and of course the reflection is anything but agreeable. Yet I am sure
she might know that I would do everything in my power to diminish the
width of that gulf between them, and that I would study to reconcile the
discrepancies and assuage the differences of their so very dissimilar
stations. She may, it is true, place this beyond my power to effect; but
the fault in that case will be purely and solely her own.
You do me no more than justice, Kitty, in saying that you are sure I
will feel happy at anything which can conduce to the welfare of Dr. B.;
and I unite with you in wishing him every success his new career can
bestow. Not but, dearest, I must say that, judging from the knowledge I
now possess of life and the world, I should augur more favorably of his
prospects had he still remained in that quiet obscurity for which his
talents and habits best adapt him than adventure upon the more ambitious
but perilous career he has just embarked in. You tell me that, having
gone up to Dublin to thank one of his patrons at the late election, he
was invited to a dinner, where he made the acquaintance of the Earl of
Darewood; and that the noble Lord, now Ambassador at Constantinople, was
so struck with his capacity, knowledge, and great modesty that he made
him at once an offer of the post of Physician to the Embassy, which with
equal promptitude was accepted.
Very flatteringly as this reads, dearest, it is the very climax of
improbability; and I have the very strongest conviction that the whole
appointment is wholly and solely due to the secret influence of Lord
George Tiverton, who is the Earl's nephew. In the first place, Kitty,
supposing that the great Earl and the small Dispensary Doctor did really
meet at the same dinner-table,--an incident just as unlikely as need be
conceived,--how many and what opportunities would there exist for that
degree of intercourse of which you speak?
If the noble Lord did speak at all to the Doctor, it would have been in
a passing remark, an easily answered question as to the sanitary state
of his neighborhood, or a chance allusion to the march of the cholera in
the north of Europe,--so at least Lord G. says; and, moreover, that if
the Doctor did, by any accident, evidence any of the qualities for which
you give him credit, save the modesty, that the Earl would have just
as certainly turned away from him, as a very forward, presuming person,
quite forgetful of his station, and where he was then standing. You can
perceive from this that I have read the paragraph in yours to Lord G.;
but I have done more, Kitty: I have positively taxed him with having
obtained the appointment in consequence of a chance allusion I had made
to Dr. B. a few weeks ago. He denies it, dearest; but how? He says, "Oh,
my worthy uncle never reads _my_ letters; he 'd throw them aside after a
line or two; he's angry with me, besides, for not going into the 'line,'
as they call Diplomacy, and would scarcely do me a favor if I pressed
him ever so much."
When urged further, he only laughed, and, lighting his cigar, puffed
away for a moment or two; after which he said in his careless way:
"After all, it mightn't have been a bad dodge of me to send the Doctor
off to Turkey. He was an old admirer, wasn't he?"
After this, Kitty, to allude to the subject was impossible, and here I
had to leave it. But who could possibly have insinuated such a scandal
concerning me? or how could it have occurred to malignant ingenuity to
couple my name with that of a person in his station? I cried the entire
evening in my own room as I thought over the disgrace to which the bare
allusion exposed me.
Is there not a fatality, then, I ask you, in everything that ties us to
Ireland? Are not the chance references to that country full of low and
unhappy associations? and yet you can talk to me of "when we come back
again."
We are daily becoming more uneasy about James. He is now several weeks
gone, and not a line has reached us to say where he is, or what success
has attended him. I know his high-spirited nature so well, and how any
reverse or disappointment would inevitably drive him to the wildest
excesses, that I am in agony about him. A letter in your brother's hand
is now here awaiting him, so that I can perceive that even Robert is as
ignorant of his fate as we are.
All these cares, dearest, will have doubtless thrown their shadows over
this dreary epistle, the reflex of my darkened spirit. Bear with and
pity me, dearest Kitty; and even when calmer reason refuses to follow
the more headlong impulses of my feeling, still care for, still love
Your ever heart-attached and devoted
Mary Anne Dodd.
P. S. The post has just arrived, bringing a letter for Lord G. in
James's hand. It was addressed Bregenz, and has been several days on
the road. How I long to learn its tidings! But I cannot detain this; so
again good-bye.
LETTER XII. KENNY JAMES DODD TO THOMAS PURCELL, ESQ., OF THE GRANGE, BRUFF
Lake of Como.
My dear Tom,--Though I begin this to-day, it may be it will take me to
the end of the week to finish it, for I am still very weak, and my
ideas come sometimes too quick and sometimes too slow, and, like an
ill-ordered procession, stop the road, and make confusion everywhere.
Mary Anne has told you how I have been ill, and for both our sakes, I
'll say little more about it. One remark, however, I will make, and it
is this: that of all the good qualities we ascribe to home, there is one
unquestionably pre-eminent,--"it is the very best place to be sick in."
The monotony and sameness so wearisome in health are boons to the sick
man. The old familiar faces are all dear to him; the well-known voices
do not disturb him; the little gleam of light that steals in between the
curtains checkers some accustomed spot in the room that he has watched
on many a former sick-bed. The stray words he catches are of home
and homely topics. In a word, he is the centre of a little world, all
anxious and eager about him, and even the old watchdog subdues his growl
out of deference to his comfort.
Now, though I am all gratitude for the affection and kindness of every
one around me, I missed twenty things I could have had at Dodsborough,
not one of them worth a brass farthing in reality, but priceless in the
estimation of that peevish, fretful habit that grows out of a sick-bed.
It was such a comfort to me to know how Miles Dogherty passed the night,
and to learn whether he got a little sleep towards morning, as I
did, and what the doctor thought of him. Then I liked to hear all the
adventures of Joe Barret, when he "went in" for the leeches, how the
mare threw him, and left him to scramble home on his feet. Then I
revelled in all that petty tyranny illness admits of, but which is only
practicable amongst one's own people, refusing this, and insisting on
that, just to exercise the little despotism that none rebel against,
but which declines into a mixed monarchy on the first day you eat
chicken-broth, and from which you are utterly deposed when you can dine
at table. In good truth, Tom, I don't wonder at men becoming _malades
imaginaires_, seeing the unnatural importance they attain to by a life
of complaining, and days passed in self-commiseration and sorrow.
In place of all this, think of a foreign country and a foreign doctor;
fancy yourself interrogated about your feelings in a language of which
you scarcely know a word, and are conscious that a wrong tense in your
verb may be your death-warrant. Imagine yourself endeavoring,
through the flighty visions of a wandering intellect, to find out the
subjunctive mood or the past participle, and almost forgetting the
torment of your gout in the terrors of your grammar!
This is a tiresome theme, and let us change it. Like all home-grown
people, I see you expect me to send you a full account of Italy and the
Italians within a month after my crossing the Alps. It is, after all, a
pardonable blunder on your part, since the very titles we read to books
of travels in the newspapers show that for sketchy books there
are always to be found "skipping" readers. Hence that host of
surface-description that finds its way into print from men who have
the impudence to introduce themselves as writers of "Jottings from my
Note-Book," "Loose Leaves from my Log," "Smoke Puffs from Germany," and
"A Canter over the Caucasus." Cannot these worthy folk see that the very
names of their books are exactly the apologies they should offer for not
having written them, had any kind but indiscreet friend urged them into
letterpress? "I was only three weeks in Sweden, and therefore I wrote
about it," seems to me as ugly a _non sequitur_ as need be. And now,
Tom, that I have inveighed against the custom, I am quite ready to
follow the example, and if you could only find me a publisher, I am
open to an offer for a tight little octavo, to be called "Italy from my
Bedroom Window."
Most writers set out by bespeaking your attention on the ground of their
greater opportunities, their influential acquaintances, position, and so
forth. To this end, therefore, must I tell you that my bedroom window,
besides a half-view of the lake, has a full look-out over a very
picturesque landscape of undulating surface, dotted with villas and
cottages, and backed by a high mountain, which forms the frontier
towards Switzerland. At the first glance it seems to be a dense wood,
with foliage of various shades of green, but gradually you detect little
patches of maize and rice, and occasionally, too, a green crop of wurzel
or turnips, which would be creditable even in England; but the vine
and the olive surround these so completely, or the great mulberry-trees
enshadow them so thoroughly, that at a distance they quite escape view.
The soil is intersected everywhere by canals for irrigation, and water
is treasured up in tanks, and conveyed in wooden troughs for miles and
miles of distance, with a care that shows the just value they ascribe
to it. Their husbandry is all spade work, and I must say neatly and
efficiently done. Of course, I am here speaking of what falls under
my own observation; and it is, besides, a little pet spot of rich
proprietors, with tasteful villas, and handsomely laid-out gardens on
every side; but as the system is the same generally, I conclude that the
results are tolerably alike also. The system is this: that the landlord
contributes the soil, and the peasant the labor, the produce being
fairly divided afterwards in equal portions between them. It reads
simple enough, and it does not sound unreasonable either; while, with
certain drawbacks, it unquestionably contains some great advantages. To
the landlord it affords a fair and a certain remuneration, subject only
to the vicissitudes of seasons and the rate of prices. It attaches him
to the soil, and to those who till it, by the very strongest of all
interests, and, even on selfish grounds, enforces a degree of regard for
the well-being of those beneath him. The peasant, on the other hand,
is neither a rack-rented tenant nor a hireling, but an independent man,
profiting by every exercise of his own industry, and deriving direct
and positive benefit from every hour of his labor. It is not alone his
character that is served by the care he bestows on the culture of the
land, but every comfort of himself and his family are the consequences
of it; and lastly, he is not obliged to convert his produce into money
to meet the rent-day. I am no political economist, but it strikes me
that it is a great burden on a poor man, that he must buy a certain
commodity in the shape of a legal tender, to satisfy the claim of a
landlord. Now, here the peasant has no such charge. The day of reckoning
divides the produce, and the "state of the currency" never enters into
the question. He has neither to hunt fairs nor markets, look out for
"dealers" to dispose of his stock, nor solicit a banker to discount his
small bill. All these are benefits, Tom, and some of them great ones
too. T
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