The Dodd Family Abroad, Vol. I

"If he 's only gone for two days," says I, "what does he want with fourteen shirts and four embroidered fronts for dress, not to speak of his new black suit and his undress Deputy-Lieutenant's coat?" I tossed and tumbled over everything, and sure enough there was little left to look at. So you see, Molly, it was all planned before, and the whole was arranged with a cold-blooded duplicity that makes me boil to think over. This wasn't all, either; but he must go and draw a bill on the landlord for a hundred and twenty pounds; and, without the slightest attention to all that we owed in the hotel, or even leaving us a sixpence, away goes my gallant Lutherian, only thinking of love and pleasure!

The half of the McCarthy legacy is gone already to meet these demands and enable us to come on here; and even with that I could n't have done it if it had n't been for Lord George's kindness, for he knows so much about bills, and bankers, and when the exchange is good, and what is the favorable moment to draw upon London, that, as he says himself, one learns at last to "make a pound go as far as five."

As to staying any longer at Bonn, it was out of the question. The whole town was talking of K. I., and everybody used to stop us and ask, with a mournful voice, if we had n't got any tidings of Mr. Dodd?

And now we're here, I must say it is a charming place; and for real life and enjoyment, there 's probably not its equal in Europe. And then, Molly, the great feature is certainly the universal kindness and charity that prevails. You may do what you like, wear what you like, go where you like. I was a little bit afraid at first that the story of K. I. would get abroad and damage us in society; but Lord George said: "You mistake Baden, my dear Mrs. Dodd. If there 's anything they 're peculiarly lenient to, it's just that. There's no cant, no hypocrisy here; nobody would endure such for an hour. Everybody knows that the world is not peopled with angels, and England is the only country where they affect that delusion. Here all are natural, sincere, and candid." These were his words, and I assure you they are no more than the truth; and so far from K. I. 's conduct being regarded in any spirit of unfairness towards us, I really believe that we have met a great deal of delicate and refined notice on account of it. As Lord G. remarks, "They know that you don't belong to that strait-laced set of humbugs that want to frown down all mankind. They see at once that you have the habits of the world, and the instincts of good society, and that you come amongst them neither to criticise nor censure, but to please and be pleased." I quote his very expressions, Molly, because, with all his wildness, his sentiments are invariably beautiful; and I must say that an ill-natured word never comes out of his mouth. If there 's anything he excels in, too, it's tact. This he showed very remarkably when we arrived here. "We must do the thing handsomely," said he, "or we shall be sure to hear that Mr. D.'s absence is owing to pecuniary difficulties." And so, accordingly, he arranged to purchase a beautiful pair of gray ponies, and a small park phaeton, belonging to a young Russian, that was just ruined at the tables. We got the whole equipage for little more than half what it cost, and a tiger – as they call the little boy in buttons – goes with it.

We have taken the first apartment in the "Cour de Bade," and have put Paddy Byrne in a suit of green and gold, that always reminds me of poor Daniel O'Connell. Lord G. drives me out every day himself, and I hear all the passers-by say, "It's Tiverton and Mrs. Dodd," in a manner that shows we 're as well known as the first people in the place. He is acquainted with every man, woman, and child in the town; and it is a perpetual "How are ye, Tiverton?" – "How goes it, George?" – "At the old trade, eh?" – as we drive along, that amuses me greatly. And it isn't only that he knows them personally, but he is familiar with all their private histories. It would fill a book – and a nice volume it would be! – if I were to tell you one-half of the stories he told me yesterday, going down to Lichtenthal. But the names is so confusing. How he remembers them all, I can't conceive.

We go to the rooms in the evening, full dressed, and as fine as you please; and if you saw how the company rises to meet us, and the gracious manner we are received by all the first people, you 'd think we were sisters with half the room. For rank, wealth, and beauty, I never saw its equal; and the "tone," as Lord G. observes, is "so easy." Mary Anne usually dances all night, but I only stand up for a quadrille, though Lord George torments me to polka with him. As for James, he never quits the roulette-table, which is a kind of game where you always win thirty-six times as much as you put down, though maybe occasionally you lose your stake, for it 's all chance, Molly, and, like everything else in this wicked world, in the hands of Fate!

I 'm afraid James does n't understand the game, or forgets to take up his winnings; for when he joins us at supper, he looks depressed and careworn, till he has taken two or three glasses of champagne. Caroline, as you may suppose, stays moping at home. If there's anything distresses me more than another, it's the way that girl goes on. Here we are, in the very thick of the fashion, spending money, – as fast as hops, – ruining ourselves, I may say, with expense; and instead of taking the benefit of it while "it's going," she sits up in her room reading her eyes out of her head, and studying things that no woman need know. As I say to her, "What good is it to you? Will it ever get you a husband, to know that Sir Humphrey Clinker invented the safety-lamp? or do you suppose that any man will take a fancy to you for the sake of your chemistry and eccentricity? Besides," says I, "you could do all this at home, in Dodsborough, and who knows if we should n't be obliged to go back and finish our days in Ireland!" And in my heart and soul I believe it's what she 'd like!

The real affliction in life is to see your children not take after you! That is the most dreadful calamity of all. You toil and you slave to bring them up with high notions, to teach them to look down upon whatever is low and mean, to avoid their poor relations, and whatever disgraces them, and you find, the whole time, 'tis looking back they are to their humble origin, and fancying that they were happier, for no other reason than because they were lower!

It is, maybe, the McCarthy blood in me, but I feel as if the higher I went the lighter I grew; and so it is, I 'm sure, with Mary Anne. I know, from her face across the room, whether she's dancing with a "prince," or only "a gentleman from the United States"! And even in the matter of looks it makes the greatest difference in her. In the one case her eyes sparkle, her head is thrown back, her cheek glows with animation; while in the other she seems half asleep, dances out of time, and probably answers out of place.

From all these facts, I gather, Molly, that there's nothing so elevating to the mind as moving in a rank above your own; and I'm sure I don't forgive myself when I keep company with my equals. I believe James has less of the Dodd and more of the M'Carthy in him than the girls. He takes to the aristocracy so naturally, – calls them by their names, and makes free with them in a way that is really beautiful; and they call him "Jim," or some of them say "Jeemes," just as familiar as himself. I suppose it's no use repining, but I often feel, Molly, that if it was the Lord's will that I was to be left a widow, I 'd see my children high in the world before long.

This reminds me of K. I., and here's his letter for you. I copy it word for word, without note or comma: —

"Dear Jemi, – We are waiting here for the Princess, who has not yet arrived, but is expected to-day or to-morrow at furthest You will be sorry to hear that I was ill and confined for more than a week to my bed at Ems." Will I, indeed? "It was a kind of low fever." I read it a love fever, Molly, when I saw it first "But I am now much better." You never were worse in your life, you old hypocrite, thinks I. "And am able to take a little exercise on horseback.

"The expense of this journey, unavoidable as it was! is very considerable, so that I reckon upon your practising the strictest economy during my absence." I thought I'd choke, Molly, when I seen this. Just think of the daring impudence of the man telling me that while he is lavishing hundreds on his vices and wickedness, the family is to starve to enable him to bear the expense. "The strictest economy during my absence." I wish I was near you when you wrote It!

Then comes in some balderdash about the scenery, and the place they 're at, just as coolly described as if it was talking of Bruff or the neighborhood; the whole winding up with, "Mrs. G. H. desires me to convey her tender regards" – what she can spare, I suppose, without robbing him – "to you and the girls. No time for more, from yours sincerely,

"Kenny James Dodd."

There's an epistle for you! You 'll not find the like of it in the "Polite Letter-Writer," I 'll wager. The father of a family – and such a family too! – discoursing as easily about the height of iniquity as if he was alluding to the state of the weather, or the price of sheep at the last fair. He flatters himself, maybe, that this free-and-easy way is the best to bamboozle me, and that by seeming to make nothing of it, I 'll take the same view as himself. Is that all he knows of me yet? Did he ever succeed in deceiving me during the last seventeen years? Did n't I find him out in twenty things when he did n't know himself of his own depravity? I tell you in confidence, Molly, that if coming abroad is an elegant thing for our sex, it's downright ruin to men of K. I.'s time of life! When they come to fifty, or thereabouts, in Ireland, they settle down to something respectable, either on the Bench, or Guardians to the Union. Their thoughts runs upon green crops and draining, and how to raise a trifle, by way of loan, from the Board of Works. But not having these things, abroad, to engage them, they take to smartening themselves up with polished boots and blackened whiskers, and what between pinching here, and padding there, they get the notion that they 're just what they were thirty years ago! Oh dear! oh dear! sure they 've only to go upstairs a little quick, to stoop to pick up a handkerchief, or button a boot, to detect the mistake, and if that won't do, let them try a polka with a young lady just out for her first season!

Of all the old fools, in this fashion, I never met a worse than K. I.! and what adds to the disgrace, he knows it himself, and he goes on saying, "Sure I 'm too old for this," or "I'm past that;" and I always chime in with, "Of course you are; you 'd cut a nice figure;" and so on. But what's the use of it, Molly? Their vanity and conceit sustains them against all the snubs in the world, and till they come down to a Bath-chair, they never believe that they can't dance a hornpipe! I could say a great deal more on this subject, but I must turn to other things. You must see Purcell and tell him the way we 're left, without a fraction of money, nor knowing where to get it Tell him that I wrote to Waters about a separation, which I would, only that K. I.'s affairs is in such a state, I 'd have to put up with a mere trifle. Say that I 'm going to expose him in the newspapers, and there's "no knowing where I 'll stop," for that's exactly the threat Tom Purcell will be frightened at.

Get him to send me a remittance immediately, and describe our distress and destitution as touchingly as you can.

Here 's more of it, Molly. James has just come in to say that the Ministry is out in England, and that the new Government is giving everything away to the Irish, and that old villain, K. I., not on the spot to ask for a place! James tells me it's the Brigade is to have the best things; but I don't remember if K. I. belongs to it, though I know he's in the Yeomanry. From Lord-Lieutenant down to the letter-carriers, they must be all Irish now, James says. We 're to have Ireland for ourselves, and as much of England as we can, for we 'll never rest till we get perfect equality, and I must say it 's time too!

K. I. is n't fit for much, but maybe he might get something. The Treasury is where he 'd like to be, but I 'm not certain it would suit him. At all events, he 's not to the fore, and I don't think they 'll send to look for him, as they did for Sir Robert Peel! Till we know, however, whether he has a chance of anything, it would be better to keep his present conduct a profound secret, for James remarks "that they make a great fuss about character nowadays;" and it comes well from them, Molly, if the stories I hear be true!

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 duchesses 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 brass, broken glass, 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-cock 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 Cumbered 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 pronounce 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 fashionable 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 père could resist the soft impeachment? To be as intelligible as the circumstances 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 Æneid. 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 wishing 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 père 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 circumstantial 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 circumstances 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 institutions 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