Volume I Part 26 (1/2)
Ask Purcell what's vacant in K. I.'s line? which, you may say, goes from Lunatic Asylums to the Court of Chancery. I don't want James to have an Irish appointment, but he says there's something in Gambia--wherever that is--that he'd like.
As, of course, K. I. and myself can never live together again, it would be very convenient if he was to get something that would require him to stay in Ireland,--either a suspensory magistrate or a place in Newgate would do. You 'll wonder at my troubling myself about a man that behaved as he did; and, indeed, I wonder at myself for it; and what I say is, maybe this might happen, maybe the other, and I 'd be sorry afterwards; and if he was to be taken away suddenly, I 'd like to be sure to have my mind easy, and in a happy frame.
Isn't it dreadful to think that it's about these things my letter is filled, while all the enjoyment in life is going on about me? There's the band underneath my window playing the Railroad Polka, and the crowd round them is princesses and d.u.c.h.esses and countesses, all so elegantly dressed, and looking so sweet and amiable. Every minute the door opens, with an invitation for this or that, or maybe a nosegay of beautiful flowers that a prince with a wonderful name has sent to Mary Anne. And here 's a man with the most tempting jewelry from Vienna, and another with lace and artificial flowers; and all for nothing, Molly, or next to nothing,--if one had a trifle to spend on them. And so we might, too, if K. I. had n't behaved this way.
There's to be a grand ball to-night at the Rooms, and Mary Anne is come to me about her dress; for one thing here is indispensable,--you must never appear twice in the same. For the life of me, I don't know what they do with the old gowns, but Mary Anne and myself has a stock already that would set up a moderate mantua-maker. As to shoes, and gloves too, a second night out of them is impossible, though Mary Anne tries to wear them at small tea-parties. Speaking of this, I must say that girl will be a treasure to the man that gets her; for she has so many ways of turning things to account: there 's not an old lace veil, nor a bit of net, nor even a flower, that she can't find use for, somewhere or other.
As to Caroline, she looks like a poor governess; there's no taste nor style whatever about her; and as to a bit of ribbon round her throat, or a cheap brooch, she never wears one! I tell her every day, ”You 're a Dodd, my dear,--a regular Dodd. You have no more of the M'Carthy in you than if you never saw me.” And, indeed, she takes after the father in everything. She has a dry, sneering way about whatever is genteel or high-bred, and the same liking for anything low and common; but, after all, I 'm lucky to have Mary Anne and James what they are! There 's no position in life that they 're not equal to; and if I 'm not greatly mistaken, it's in the very highest rank they 'll settle down at last This opinion of mine, Molly, is the best and shortest answer I can give to what you ask me in your last letter,--”What's the use of going abroad?” But, indeed, your question--as Lord George remarked, when I told him of it--is, ”What's the use of civilization? What's the use of clothes? What's the use of cooked victuals?” You'll say, perhaps, that you have all these in Ireland; and I'll tell you, just as flatly, You have not. You stare with surprise, but I repeat to you, You have not.
An old iron shop in Pill Lane, with bits of bra.s.s, broken gla.s.s, and old crockery, is just as like Storr and Mortimer's as your Irish habits and ways are like the real world. Why, Molly, there's no breeding nor manners at all! You are all twice too familiar, or what you perhaps would call cordial, with each other; and yet you dare n't, for the life of you, say what every foreigner would say to a lady the first time he ever met her. That's your notion of good manners!
As to your clothes, I get red as a turkey-c.o.c.k with pure shame when I think of a Dublin bonnet, with a whole botanical garden over it; but, indeed, when one thinks of the dirty streets and the shocking climate, they forgive you for keeping all the finery for the head.
The cookery I won't speak of. There's people can eat it, and much good may it do them; and my heart bleeds when I think of their sufferings.
But maybe Ireland _is_ coming round, after all. What I hear is, that when everybody is sold out, matters will begin to mend. I suppose it's just as if the whole country was taking what's called the ”Benefit of the Act,” and that they'll start fresh again in the world without owing sixpence. If that's the meaning of the c.u.mbered Estates, it's the best thing ever was done for Ireland, and I only wonder they did n't think of it earlier; for my sure and certain opinion is that there's nothing distresses a man like trying to pay off old debts; and it destroys the spirits besides, for ye 're always saying, ”It was n't _me_ that spent _this_, I had n't any fun for _that_.”
James has just come in with the list of the new Ministry, and among all the Irish appointments I don't see as good a name as K. I.'s; and you may fancy how respectable they are after that! But the truth is, Molly, it's the same with politics as with the potatoes: one is satisfied to put up with anything in a famine. K. I. used to say that when he was young, his Irish name would have excluded him as much from any chance of office as if he was a Red Indian; but times is changed now, and I see two or three in the list that their colleagues will never p.r.o.nounce rightly,--and that, at least, is something gained.
And just to think of it, Molly! Who knows, if K. I. wasn't disgracing himself this minute, that he would n't be high in the Administration? I remember the time when it was only Lord James this, or Sir Michael that, got anything; but now you may remark that it's maybe a fellow would rob the mail is a Lord of the Treasury, and one that would take fright at his own shadow is made Clerk of the Ordnance. That's a great ”step in the right direction,” Molly, and it shows, besides, that we 're daily living down obscene and antiquated prejudices.
You like a long letter, you say, and I hope you 'll be satisfied with this, for I 'm four days over it; but, to be sure, half the time is spent crying over the barbarous treatment I 've met from K. I. That you may never know what it is to have a like grief, is the prayer of your affectionate friend,
Jemima Dodd.
P. S. Mary Anne sends her love and regards, and Cary, too, desires to be remembered to you. She is longing to have old Tib here, as if a black cat would be anything remarkable on the Continent But that 's the way with her. All the Dodsborough geese are swans in _her_ estimation.
LETTER XXIV. JAMES DODD TO ROBERT DOOLAN, ESQUIRE, TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN.
Baden-Baden.
My dear Bob,--I copy the following paragraph from the ”Galignani”
of yesterday: ”Considerable excitement has been caused amongst the fas.h.i.+onable visitors of Baden by the rumored elopement of the charming Mrs. G * * * H * * *. * * with an Irish gentleman of large fortune, and who, though considerably past the prime of life, is evidently not beyond the age of fascination. Our readers will appreciate the reserve with which we only allude to a report, the bare mention of which will doubtless give the deepest distress amongst a wide circle of our very highest aristocracy.” Probably all your conic sections and spherical trigonometry learning would never enable you to read the riddle aright, and so I shall save you the profitless effort by saying that the delinquent so delicately indicated in the above is no other than the worthy governor himself. Ay, Bob, as the old song says,--
”No age, no profession, nor station is free, To sovereign beauty mankind bends the knee;”
and how should it be expected that Dodd pre could resist the soft impeachment? To be as intelligible as the circ.u.mstances permit, I must ask of you to call to mind a certain very beautiful fellow-traveller of ours,--a Mrs. Gore Hampton. She is the Dido of this neid. Not that there is in reality any--even the remotest--shade of truth in the newspaper paragraph; the entire event being explicable upon far less romantic and less interesting grounds. Mrs. G. H. having desired the protection of my father's escort to some small town in Germany, and not wis.h.i.+ng to excite the inevitable hostility of my mother to the arrangement, determined upon a night march, without beat of drum. In this way was the fortress evacuated; and when the garrison were mustered for duty, Dodd pre was reported missing.
Tiverton, who was in the secret throughout, explained everything to me, and I as readily imparted the explanation to the girls; but all our endeavors to convince my mother were totally fruitless. ”She knew him of old,”--”she guessed many a day since what he was,”--”it was not now that she had to read his character,”--these and similar intimations, coupled with others even stronger and less flattering as regarded his time of life, manners, and personal advantages, were more than enough to drown all our arguments; and I must confess that she arranged the details of circ.u.mstantial evidence against him with a degree of art and dexterity that might have reflected credit on a Crown lawyer.
Of course, the first three or four days after the event were not of the pleasantest; for, not satisfied with the sympathies of a home circle, my mother empanelled ”special juries” of the waiters and chambermaids, and arraigned the unlucky governor on a series of charges extending to a period far beyond the ”statute of limitations.”
Under these circ.u.mstances there was nothing for it but to leave this place at once, and establish our quarters in some new locality. Baden offered the most advisable sphere, whither we have come, if not to hide our sorrows, at least to console our griefs. I am perfectly convinced that if the governor came back to-morrow, and could only obtain a fair hearing, he could satisfactorily explain why he went, where he was, and everything else about his absence; but there lies the real difficulty, Bob. He will be condemned _per contumaciam_, if not actually hooted out of court with indignation. While this is undeniably true, you will be astonished to hear how thoroughly public sympathy would be with him, were he boldly to stand forth and tender his plea of ”Guilty.” I was slow to credit this when Tiverton told me so at first, but I now see it is perfect fact. Good society abroad exacts something in the way of qualification,--like what certain charitable inst.i.tutions require at home,--you must have sinned before you can hope for admittance! It is not enough that you express profligate opinions,--speak disparagingly of whatever is right, and praise the wrong,--you are expected to give a proof, a good, palpable, unmistakable proof of your professions, and show yourself a man of your word. The oddest thing about all this is that these evidences are not demanded on any moral or immoral grounds, but simply as requirements of good breeding,--in other words, you have no right to mix in society where your purity of character may give offence; such pretension would be a downright impertinence.
Hence you will perceive that if the governor only knew of it, he might take brevet rank as a scamp, and actually figure here as one of the ”profligates of the season.” Meanwhile, his absence is not without its inconveniences; and if he remain much longer away, I am sorely afraid, we shall be reduced to a paper currency, not ”convertible” at will.
I have myself been terribly unlucky at ”the tables,” have lost heavily, and am deeply in debt. Tiverton, however, tells me never to despair, and that when pushed to the wall a man can always retrieve himself by a rich marriage. I confess the remedy is not exactly to my taste,--but what remedy ever is? If it must be so, it must. There are just now some three or four great prizes in the wheel matrimonial here, of which I will speak more fully in my next; my object in the present being rather to tell you where we are, than to communicate the _res gesto_ of
Your ever attached friend,
James Dodd.