LETTER XL. KENNY I. DODD TO THOMAS PURCELL, ESQ., OF THE GRANGE, BRUFF.
Constance, Switzerland.
My dear Tom,—Before passion gets the better of me, and I forget all about it, let me acknowledge the welcome arrival of your post bill for one hundred, but for which, Heaven knows in what additional embarrassment I might now be in. You will see, by the address, that I am in Switzerland. How we came here I 'll try and explain, if Providence grants me patience for the effort; this being the third time I have addressed myself to the task unsuccessfully.
I need not refer to the situation in which my last letter to you left us. You may remember that I told you of the various preparations that were then in progress for a certain auspicious event, whose accomplishment was fixed for the ensuing week. Amongst others, I wrote to Morris for some articles of dress and finery to be procured at Baden, and for, if possible, a comfortable travelling-carriage, with a sufficiency of boxes and imperials.
Of course in doing so it was necessary, or at least it was fitting, that I should make mention of the cause for these extraordinary preparations, and I did so by a very brief allusion to the coming event, and to the rank of my future son-in-law, the youthful Baron and heir of Wolfenfels. I am not aware of having said much more than this, for my letter was so crammed with commissions, and catalogues of purchases, that there was little space disposable for more intelligence. I wrote on a Monday, and on the following Wednesday evening I was taking a stroll with James through the park, chatting over the approaching event in our family, when a mounted postboy galloped up with a letter, which being marked "Most pressing and immediate," the postmaster had very properly forwarded to me with all expedition. It was in Morris's hand, and very brief. I give it to you verbatim:—
"My dear Sir,—For Heaven's sake do not advance another step
in this affair. You have been grossly imposed upon. As soon
as I can procure horses I will join you, and expose the most
scandalous trick that has ever come to the knowledge of
yours truly,
"E. Morris.
"Post-House, Tite See. 2 o'clock p.m. Wednesday."
You may imagine—I cannot attempt to describe—the feelings with which James and I read and re-read these lines. I suppose we had passed the letter back and forwards to each other fully a dozen times, ere either of us could summon composure to speak.
"Do you understand it, James?" said I.
"No," said he. "Do you?"
"Not unless the scoundrel is married already," said I.
"That was exactly what had occurred to me," replied he. "'Most scandalous trick,' are the words; and they can only mean that."
"Morris is such a safe fellow,—so invariably sure of whatever he says."
"Precisely the way I take it," cried James. "He is far too cautious to make a grave charge without ample evidence to sustain it! We may rely upon it that he knows what he is about."
"But bigamy is a crime in Germany. They send a fellow to the galleys for it," said I. "Is it likely that he 'd put himself in such peril?"
"Who knows!" said James, "if he thought he was going to get an English girl of high family, and with a pot of money!"
Shall I own to you, Tom, that remark of James's nearly stunned me,—carelessly and casually as it fell from him, it almost overwhelmed me, and I asked myself, Why should he think she was of high family? Why should he suppose she had a large fortune? Who was it that propagated these delusions? and if there really was a "scandalous trick," as Morris said, could I affirm that all the roguery was on one side? Could I come into court with clean hands, and say, "Mrs. Dodd has not been cheating, neither has Kenny James "? Where are these broad acres of arable and pasture,—these verdant forests and swelling lawns, that I have been bestowing with such boundless munificence? How shall we prove these fourteen quarterings that we have been quoting incessantly for the past three weeks? "No matter for that," thought I, at length. "If the fellow has got another wife, I 'll break every bone in his skin!" I must have pondered this sentiment aloud, for James echoed it even more forcibly, adding, by way of sequel, "And kick him from this to Rotterdam!"
I mention this in detail to show that we both jumped at once to the same conclusion, and, having done so, never disputed the correctness of our guess. We now proceeded to discuss our line of action,—James advising that he should be "brought to book" at once; I overruling the counsel by showing that we could do nothing whatever till Morris arrived.
"But to-morrow is fixed for the wedding!" exclaimed James.
"I know it," said I, "and Morris will be here to-night. At all events, the marriage shall not take place till he comes."
"I 'd charge him with it on the spot," cried James. "I 'd tell him, in plain terms, the information had come to me from an authority of unimpeachable veracity, and to refute it if he could."
"Refute what?" said I. "Don't you see, boy, that we really are not in possession of any single fact,—we have not even an allegation?"
I assure you, Tom, that I had to make him read the note over again, word by word, before he was convinced of the case.
As we walked back to the castle, we talked over the affair, and turned it in every possible shape, both of us agreeing that we could not, with any safety, intrust our intelligence to the womankind.
"We 'll watch him," said James; "we 'll keep an eye on him, and wait for Morris."
I own to you my feelings distressed me to that degree I could scarcely enter the house, and as to appearing at supper it was clean out of the question. How could I bring myself to accept the shelter of a man's roof against whom I harbored the very worst suspicions! Could I be Judas enough to sit down at table with one against whom I was hatching exposure and shame! It was bad enough to think that my wife and daughter were there. As for James, he took his place at the board with such an expression in his features that I verily believe Banquo looked a pleasanter guest at Macbeth's banquet. I betook myself to the terrace, and walked there till midnight, watching with eye and ear towards the road that led from Freyburg.
"Night or Blücher!" said the Duke, on the memorable field at Waterloo; but there was the blessing of an alternative in his case. Mine had none. It was Morris or nothing with me, And now I began anathematizing to myself those crusty, secret, cautious natures that are always satisfied when they cry "Stop!" without taking the trouble to say wherefore. What may be a precipice to one man, thought I, is only a step to another! How does he know that his notions of roguery would tally with mine? There 's many a thing they call a cheat in England we might think a practical joke in Ireland. The national prejudices are constantly in opposition; look, for instance, at the opposite view they take of the "Income tax"! Morris, besides, is a strait-laced fellow that would be shocked at a trifle. Maybe it's some tomfoolery about his ancestors, some flaw in the 'scutcheon of Conrad, or Leopold, that lived in the year nine. Egad! I wonder what the Dodds were doing in that century? Or perhaps it is his politics he's hinting at, for I believe the Baron is a bit of a Radical! For that matter, so am I,—at least, occasionally, and when the Whigs are in power; for, as I observed to you once, Tom, "always be a shade more liberal than the Government." It was years and years before I came to see the good policy of that simple rule, but, believe me, it 's well worth remembering. Be a Whig to the Tories; be a Radical to the Whigs; and when Cobden and that batch come in, as they are sure to do sooner or later, there will be yet some lower depth to descend to and cry, "Take me out!"
I was remarking that Morris is quite capable of being shocked at the Baron's politics, and fancying that I am giving my daughter to one of those Organization of Labor and Rights of Man humbugs that are always getting up rows and running away from them. Now, Tom, I hold these fellows mighty cheap. A patriot without pluck is like a steam-engine wanting a boiler. Why, it 's the very essence and vitality of the whole; but still I am not sure that, as the world goes, I 'd be right in refusing him my daughter because he put his faith in Kossuth, and thought the Austrian Empire an unclean thing!
I tell you these ruminations and reasonings of mine that you may perceive how I turned the matter over with myself in a candid spirit, and was led away neither by prejudice nor passion. From ten o'clock till eleven—from eleven till midnight—I walked the terrace up and down, like the Ghost in "Hamlet,"—I hope I'm right in my quotation,—but neither sight nor sound indicated Morris's arrival! "What if he should not come!" thought I. "How can I frame a pretext for putting off the wedding?" There was no opening for delay that I could think of. I had signed no end of deeds and parchments; I had written my name to "acts" of every possible shape and description. The solemnity of the church and my paternal blessing were alone wanting to complete the fifth act of the drama. I racked my brain to invent a plausible, or even an intelligible cause for postponement. Had I been a condemned felon, I could not have tortured my imagination more intensely to find a pretext for a reprieve. But one issue of escape presented itself. I could be dangerously ill,—a sudden attack; at my age a man can always have gout in the stomach! My daughter, of course, could not be married if I was at death's door; and as, happily, there was no doctor in the neighborhood, the feint attack ran no risk of being converted into a serious action. Since the memorable experiment of my mock illness at Ems, I own I had no fancy for the performance, nor could I divest my mind of the belief that all these things are, in a measure, a tempting of Providence. But what else could I do? There was not, so far as I could see, another road open to me.
I was just, therefore, turning back into the house, to take to my bed in a dangerous condition, when I heard the clattering of whips, in that crack-crack fashion your German postilion always announces an arrival. I at once hastened down to the door, and arrived at the same moment that four posters, hot and smoking, drew up a travelling-barouche to the spot. Morris sprang out at once, and, seizing my hand, with what for him expressed great warmth, said,—
"Not too late, I hope and trust?"
"No," said I; "thanks to your note, I was fully warned."
By this time a stranger had also descended from the carriage, and stood beside us.
"First of all, let me introduce my friend, Count Adelberg, who, I rejoice to say, speaks English as well as ourselves."
We bowed, and shook hands.
"By the greatest good luck in the world," continued Morris, "the Count happened to be with me when your letter arrived, and, seeing the post-mark, observed, 'I see you have got a correspondent in my part of the world,—who can he be?' Anxious to obtain information from him, I immediately mentioned the circumstances to which your note referred, when he stopped me suddenly, exclaiming, 'Is this possible,—can you really assure me that this is so?'"
But, my dear Purcell, I cannot go over a scene which nearly overcame me at the time, and now, in recollection, is scarcely endurable. The torture and humiliation of that moment I hope never to go through again. In three words, let me tell my tale. Count Adelberg was the owner and lord of Wolfsberg, the Wolfenschafers being his stewards. This pretended Baron was a young swindling rascal, who had gone to Bonn less for education than to seek his fortune. The popular notion in Germany, that every English girl is an heiress of immense wealth, had suggested to him the idea of passing himself off for a noble of ancient family and possessions, and thus securing the hand of some rich girl ambitious of a foreign rank and title. He had considerable difficulties to encounter in the prosecution of his scheme, but he surmounted or evaded them all. He absented himself from Baden, for instance, where recognition would have been inevitable, under the pretext of his political opinions; and he, with equal tact, avoided the exposure of his father's vulgarity, by keeping the worthy individual confined to bed. Of the servants and retainers of the castle, the shrewd ones were his accomplices, the less intelligent his dupes. In a word, Tom, an artful plot was well laid and carried out, to impose upon people whose own short-sightedness and vulgar pretensions made them ready victims for even a less ingenious artifice.
I was very nigh crazy as I heard this explanation. They had to hold me twice or thrice by main force to prevent my rushing into the house and wreaking a personal vengeance on the scoundrel. Morris reasoned and argued with me for above an hour. The Count, too, showed that our whole aim should be to prevent the affair getting rumored abroad, and to suppress all notoriety of the transaction. He alluded with consummate delicacy to our want of knowledge of Germany and its people as an explanation of our blunder, and condoled with me on the outrage to our feelings with all the tact of a well-bred gentleman. Any slight pricks of conscience I had felt before, from our own share in the deception, were totally merged in my sense of insulted honor, and I utterly forgot everything about the imaginary townlands and villages I had so generously laid apart for Mary Anne's dowry.
The next question was, what to do? The Count, with great politeness and hospitality, entreated that we should remain, at least for some days, at the castle. He insisted that no other course could so effectually suppress any gossip the affair might give rise to. He supported this view, besides, by many arguments, equally ingenious as polite. But Morris agreed perfectly with me, that the best thing was to get away at once; that, in fact, it would be utterly impossible for us to pass another day under that roof.
The next step was to break the matter to Mrs. D. I suppose, Tom, that even to as old a friend as yourself I ought not to make the confession; but I can't help it,—it will out, in spite of me; and I frankly admit it would have amply compensated to me for all the insult, outrage, and humiliation I experienced, if I were permitted just to lay a plain statement of the case before Mrs. D., and compliment her upon the talents she exercises for the advancement of her children, and the proud successes they have achieved. In my heart and soul I believe that, in the disposition I then felt myself, and with as good a cause to handle, I could very nearly have driven her stark mad with rage, shame, and disappointment. Morris, however, declared positively against this. He took upon himself the whole duty of the explanation, and even made me give a solemn pledge not in any way to interfere in the matter. He went further, and compelled me to forego my plans of vengeance against the young rascal who had so grossly outraged us.
I have not patience to repeat the arguments he employed. They, however, just came to this: that the paramount question was to hush up the whole affair, and escape at once from the scene in which it occurred. I don't think I 'll ever forgive myself for my compliance on this head! I have an accommodating conscience with respect to many debts; but to know and feel that I owe a fellow a horse-whipping, and to experience in my heart the conviction that I don't intend to pay it, lowers me in my own esteem to a degree I have no power to express. I explained this to Morris. I showed him that in yielding to his views I was storing up a secret source of misery for many a solitary reflection. I even proposed to be satisfied with ten minutes' thrashing of him in secret; none to be the wiser but our two selves! He would not hear of it And now, Tom, I own to you that if the story gets abroad in the world, this is the part of it that will most acutely afflict me. I really can't tell you why I permitted him to over-persuade me, and make me do an act at once contrary to my country, my nature, and my instincts. The only explanation I can give is this: it is the air of the Continent. Bring an English bull-dog abroad, feed him with raw beef as you would at home, treat him exactly the same—but he loses his courage, and would n't face a terrier. I 'm convinced it's the same with a man; and you 'll see fellows put up with slights and offences here that in their own land they 'd travel a hundred miles to resent. One comfort I have, however, and it is this,—I have never been well since I yielded this point My appetite is gone; I can't sleep without starting up, and I have a fluttering about my heart that distresses me greatly; and although these are more or less disagreeable, they show me that, under fair circumstances, K. I. could be himself again; and that though the Continent has breached, it has not utterly destroyed, his natural good constitution.
To be brief, our plan of procedure was this: I was to remain with the Count in his apartment, while Morris went on his mission to Mrs. D. The explanation being made, we were to take the Count's carriage to Constance, where we could remain for a week or so, until we had decided which way to turn our steps; and gave also time to Caroline, who was still with Morris's mother, to join us.
I told M. that I did n't like to go far, that my remittances might possibly miss me, and so on; and the poor fellow at once said, that if a couple of hundred pounds could be of the slightest convenience to me, they were heartily at my service. Of course, Tom, I said no, that I was not in the least in want of money. It was the first time in my life I refused a loan; but I could n't take it. I could have found it easier to rob a church at that moment! He flushed deeply when I declined the offer, and stammered out something about his deep regret if he could have offended me; and, indeed, I had some trouble to prove that I was n't a bit annoyed or provoked.
Although all the conversation I have alluded to took place outside the castle, we were not well inside the door when we perceived that Count Adelberg's arrival had already been made known to the household. Troops of servants hastened to receive him, amongst whom, however, neither the steward nor his son were to be found.
"Send Wolfenschfer to the library," said he to a footman, as we went along, and then conducted me to a small and favorite chamber of which he always kept the key himself. He made me promise not to quit this till he returned, and then left me to my own not over-gratifying reflections in perfect solitude as they were; Morris having departed on his embassy.
I was speculating on the various emotions each of us was likely to experience at the discovery of this catastrophe, when Morris entered the room, with an amount of agitation in his manner I had never witnessed before.
"Well," said I, "you've told her,—how does she bear it?"
"I confess," said he, stammeringly, "Mrs. Dodd does not appear to place too much reliance upon my mere word,—I mean, not that kind of confidence which could be called implicit."
"Why, you showed her that we have been infamously deceived, grossly insulted?"
"I endeavored to do so," said he, still hesitating. "I tried in the most delicate manner to explain by what vile artifices you had been tricked; and that, on my detection of the scheme, I had hastened over from Baden, fortunately in sufficient time to prevent the accomplishment of this nefarious plot. She scarcely would hear me out, however; for, without paying any regard to the proofs I was giving of my statement, she flew into a passion about my habit of obtruding myself into family affairs, and the impertinent interference which I had practised more than once in matters which did not concern me. In a word, she utterly disbelieved every word I said, attributed my interested feelings to very unworthy motives, and made a few personal remarks of a nature the reverse of complimentary."
"Was my daughter present?" asked I.
"Miss Dodd had gone to her room a short time previously, but Mrs. Dodd sent for her as I was leaving the chamber."
I could not any longer master my impatience, but, without waiting for more, rushed upstairs and into my wife's room. A glance assured me that the work of persuasion was already accomplished; for she was lying half-fainting in a large chair, while Mary Anne and Betty were bathing her temples and using the usual restoratives for suspended animation.
I had abundant time to observe Mary Anne during these proceedings, and, to my excessive wonderment do I own it, the girl was as calm, as self-possessed, and as collected as ever I saw her. I defy the very shrewdest to say that they could detect one trait of anxiety or discomposure about her; so that, though I saw Mrs. D. had yielded to the convictions of truth, I really could not say whether or not Mary Anne had yet heard of the story. I thought, however, I 'd explore the way by an artificial path, and said: "If she's well enough to be carried downstairs, Mary Anne, we ought to do it. The great matter is to quit this place at once."
"Of course, papa," said she, without the slightest touch of emotion.
"After what has occurred," said I, "every moment I remain is a fresh insult."
"Quite so," said she, composedly.
Ah, Tom, these women are out and out beyond us! Neither physiologists nor novel-writers know a bit about them. The stock themes with these fellows are their tender susceptibility, gentleness, and so forth. Take my word for it, it is in strength of character, in downright power of endurance, that they excel us. They possess a quality of submission that rises to actual heroism, and they can summon an amount of energy to resist an insult to their pride of which we men have no conception whatever.
Instead of any attempt to condole with Mary Anne, or to comfort her, the best I could do was to try to imitate the dignified calm of her composure.
"Don't you think," said I to her, "that we could be off by daybreak?"
"Easily," said she. "Augustine is packing up, and when mamma is a little better I 'll assist her."
"She knows it all?" said I, with a gesture towards my wife.
"Everything!"
"And believes it at last?"
A nod was the reply.
Egad, Tom, this coolness completely took me aback. I could do nothing but stare at the girl with amazement, and ask myself, "Does she really know what has happened?"
In utter indifference to my scrutiny, she continued her attentions to her mother, whispering orders from time to time to Betty Cobb.
"Hadn't you better give some directions about your trunks, papa?" said she to me.
And thus recalled to myself, I hastened to follow the advice. Faddy, as is customary with him at any great emergency, was drunk, and, with the usual consequence, engaged in active conflict with the rest of the servants' hall. As for James, I sought for him everywhere in vain, but at last learned that he was seen to saddle and bridle a horse for himself about half an hour before, which done, he mounted and rode off at speed towards the forest, which direction, it appeared, the young Baron! had taken some time before. I should have felt uncommonly uneasy for the result had they not assured me that there was not the very slightest chance of his overtaking the fugitive.
Morris told me, too, that the old steward had been turned out of doors already, so that we had at least the satisfaction of a very heavy vengeance. The Count never ceased to show us every attention in his power; and, so far as politeness and good manners could atone to us, everything was done that could be imagined. With Morris's aid I got my things together, and before daybreak the carriage stood fully loaded at the door. There was, it is true, "an awful sacrifice" exacted by this hurried packing; and the frail finery of the trousseau found but scanty tenderness, as it was bundled up into valises and even carpet-bags! However, I was determined to march, even at the loss of all my baggage, if necessary!
While these active operations went forward, Mrs. D. "improved the occasion" by some sharp attacks of hysterics, which providentially ended in a loss of voice at last; and thus a happy calm was permitted us, in which to take a slight breakfast before starting.
If I call it slight, Tom, it was not with reference to the preparations, which were really on the most sumptuous scale, and all laid out in the large dinner-room with great taste. The Count had told Morris that if his presence might not be thought intrusive, he would feel it a great honor to be permitted to pay his respects to the ladies; and when I mentioned this to Mary Anne, to my no small astonishment she replied, "Oh, with pleasure! I really think we owe it to him for all his attentions." Ay! Tom, and what is more, down came my wife, who had passed the night in screaming and sobbing, looking all smiles and blandnesses, leaning on Mary Anne, who, by the way, had dressed herself in the most becoming fashion, and seemed quite bent on a conquest. Oh, these woman, these women!—read them if you can, Tom Purcell! for, upon my conscience, they are far above the humble intelligence of your friend K. I.
I don't think you 'd believe me if I was to give you an account of that same breakfast. If ever there was an incident calculated to overwhelm with shame and confusion, it was precisely that which had just occurred to us. It was not possible to conceive a situation more painful than we were placed in; and with all that, I vow and declare that, except Morris and myself, none seemed to feel it. Mrs. D. ate and drank, and bowed and smiled and gesticulated, and ogled the Count to her heart's content; and Mary Anne chatted and laughed with him in all the ease of intimate acquaintanceship; and as he evidently was struck by her beauty, she appeared to accept the homage of his admiration as a very satisfactory compliment. As for me, I tried to behave with the same good breeding as the others, but it was no use!—every mouthful I ate almost choked me; every time I attempted to be jocose, I broke down, with a lamentable failure. Rage, shame, and indignation were all at work within me; and even the ease and indifference displayed by the womenkind increased my sense of humiliation. It might very probably have been far less well-mannered and genteel; but I tell you frankly, I 'd have been better pleased with them both if they had cried heartily, and made no secret of their suffering. I half suspect Morris was of the same mind too; for he could not keep his eyes off them, and evidently in profound astonishment. But for him, indeed, I don't know how I should have got through that morning, for Mrs. D. and her daughter were far too intent upon fresh conquests to waste a thought on recent defeats, and it was evident that Count Adelberg was received by them both with all the credit due to the "real article." This threw me completely on Morris for all counsel and guidance; and I must say he behaved admirably, making all the arrangements for our departure with a ready promptitude that showed old habits of discipline.
In the Count's calèche there was no room for servants; but our own was to follow with them and the baggage, and also bring up James,—all of which details M. was to look after, as well as the care of forwarding to me any letters that might arrive after I was gone.
It was nigh eight o'clock before we started, though breakfast was over a little after six; and, indeed, when all was ready, horses harnessed, and postilions in the saddle, the Count insisted on the "ladies" ascending the great watch-tower of the castle to see the sun rise. He assured them people came from all parts of the world for that view, which was considered one of the finest in Europe; and in proof of his assertion pointed to a long string of inscriptions on marble tablets in the wall. Here it was the Kur Furst of this; and there the Landgravine of that. Dukes, archdukes, and field-marshals figured in the catalogue, and amidst the illustrious of foreign lands a distinguished place was occupied by Milor Stubbs, who made the ascent on a day in the year recorded. That Mrs. Dodd and Mary Anne are destined to a like immortality, I have no doubt whatever.
At last we got into the carriage, but not until the Count had saluted me on both cheeks, and embraced me tenderly in stage fashion; he kissed Mrs. D.'s hand, and Mary Anne's also, with such a touching devotion that, for the first time during that memorable morning, they both wiped their eyes. The sight of Morris, however, seemed to recall them to the sober realities of life; they shook hands with him, and away we went at that tearing gallop which, though very little more than six miles an hour, has all the apparent speed and the real peril of a special train.
"Where's my fur cloak? Is my muff put in? I don't see the gray shawl. Mary Anne, what has become of the rug? I 'm certain half our things are left behind. How could it be otherwise, seeing the absurd haste in which we came away!" These are a few specimens of Mrs. D.'s lucubrations, given per saltum as we bumped through the deep ruts of the road, and will explain, as well as a chapter on the subject, the train in which her thoughts were proceeding.
Ay, Tom! for all the disgrace and ignominy of that miserable night and morning, she had no other sentiment of sorrow than for the absurd haste in which we came away. I had firmly determined not to recur to this unpleasant affair, and to let it sleep amongst the archives of similar disagreeable reminiscences, but this provocation was really too strong for me! Were they women?—were they human beings, and could reason this way?—were the questions that struggled for an answer within me! I tried to repress the temptation, but I could not, and so I resolved, if I could do no more, at least to discipline my emotions, and hold them within certain limits. I waited till we were out of the grounds,—I delayed till we were some miles on the high-road,—and then, with a voice subdued to a mere whisper, and in a manner that vouched for the most complete subjection, said,—
"Mrs. Dodd, may I be permitted to inquire—and I premise that the object of my question is neither any personal nor a mere vulgar curiosity, but simply to investigate what might be termed a physiological fact, namely, whether females really feel less than the males of the human species?"
My dear Tom, the calm tone of my exordium availed me nothing. To no end was it that I propounded the purely scientific basis of my investigation. She flew at me at once like a tigress. The abstract question that I had submitted for discussion she flung indignantly to the winds, and boldly asked me if I thought "to escape that way." "Escape "—that way! I was thunderstruck, stupefied, dumfoundered! Did the woman want to infer—could she by any diabolical ingenuity or perverseness imply—that I was possibly to blame for our late calamity? You 'll not credit it; nobody could, but it is the truth, notwithstanding. That was exactly the charge she now preferred against me. If I bad taken proper steps to investigate the "Baron's" real pretensions,—if I had made due and fitting inquiries about him,—if I had been commonly intelligent, and displayed the most ordinary knowledge of the world,—in fact, if, instead of being a bull-headed, blundering old Irish country gentleman, I had been a cross between a foreign prefect and a London detective, the chances were that we had been spared the mortification of exhibiting ourselves as endeavoring to dupe people who were already successfully engaged in duping us! This wasn't all, Tom, but she boldly propounded the startling declaration that she and Mary Anne both had suspected the Baron to be an imposition and a cheat! and although his low manners and vulgar tone imposed upon me, they had always regarded him as shockingly underbred! It was I, however, who had rushed into the whole misadventure,—it was I concocted the entire scheme,—I planned the visit,—I made up the match. My stupid cupidity, my blundering anxiety for a grand alliance, were the causes of all the evil! The mock munificence of my settlements was hurled at me as proof positive of the eagerness of my duplicity, and I was overwhelmed with a mass of accusations which I verily believe would have obtained a verdict against me at the hands of any honest and impartial jury of my countrymen.
I have more than once had to acknowledge, that when perfectly assured in my own conscience of my innocence, Mrs. D. has contrived to shake my doubts about myself, and at last succeeded in making me believe that I might have been culpable without knowing it. I suppose in these cases I may have been morally innocent and legally guilty, but I 'll not puzzle my head by any subtlety of explanation; enough if I own that a less enviable predicament no man need covet!
I sat under this new allegation sad, silent, and abashed; and although Mary Anne said but little, yet her occasional "You must admit, papa," "You will surely acknowledge," or "You cannot possibly forget," chimed in, and swelled the full chorus of accusation against me. If I said nothing, I thought the more. My reflections took this shape: Here is another blessed fruit of our coming abroad. Such an incident never could have befallen us at home. Why, then, should we continue to live on exposed to similar casualties?
Why reside in a land where we cannot distinguish the man of rank from his scullion, and where all the forms that constitute good breeding and, maybe, good grammar, are quite beyond our appreciation? Every dilettante scribbler for the magazines who sketches his rambles in Spain or Switzerland, grows jocose over some eccentricity or absurdity of his countrymen. Their blunders in language, dress, or demeanor are duly chronicled and relied upon as subjects for a droll chapter; but let me tell you, Tom, that the difficulties of foreign residence are very considerable indeed, and, except to the man who issues from England with a certain well-proved and admitted station, social or political, the society into which he may be thrown is a downright lottery. The first error he commits, and it is almost inevitable, is to mistake the common forms of hat-lifting and bowing for acquaintanceship. "Bull" thinks that the gentleman desires to know him, and obligingly condescends to accept his overtures. The foreigner, somewhat amused to see the veriest commonplace of politeness received as evidence of acquaintance, profits by the admission, chats, and comes to tea. Now, Tom, whether it be cheap soup, cheap clothing, cheap travelling, or cheap friendship, I have a strong prejudice against them all. My notion is that the real article is not to be had without some cost and trouble.
These were some of my ruminations as we rattled along; and although the road was interesting, and the day a fine bracing autumnal one, my mind was not attuned to pleasure or enjoyment We stopped to bait at Donaueschingen, for we were obliged, by some accident or other, to take the same horses on, and found a most comfortable little inn at the sign of the "Sharpshooter." After dinner we took a stroll in the garden of the palace of the mediatized Prince of Furstenberg; for, of course, there is a palace and a mediatized prince wherever there is a town of three thousand inhabitants throughout Germany. By the way, Napoleon treated these people pretty much like our own Encumbered Estates Court at home. He sold them out without any ceremony, and got rid of the feudal privileges and the seignorial rights with a bang of the auctioneer's hammer. Of course, as with us, there was often a great deal of individual hardship, but these little principalities were large evils, and half the disturbances of Europe grew out of their corrupt administration.
There is, I often fancy, a natural instinctive kind of corruption incidental to the dominion of a small state. They are too small and too insignificant to attract any attention from the world without, and within their own narrow limits there is no such thing as a public opinion. The ruler, consequently, is free to follow the caprices of his folly, his cruelty, or his wastefulness. He has neither to dread a parliament nor a newspaper. If he send his small contingent—a commander-in-chief and a drummer of great experience—to the great army of the Confederation he belongs to, he may tax his subjects, or hang them, to his heart's content! Now, I cannot imagine a worse state of things than this, nor any more likely to foster that spirit of discontent which every hour is adding to the feeling of the Continent.
While I am following this theme, I am forgetting what was uppermost a few minutes back in my mind. In the garden of the same palace, which belongs to a certain fount Furstenberg, there is a singularly beautiful little spring; it bubbles up amidst flowers and grass, and overruns the greensward in many a limpid streamlet. There is something in the unadorned simplicity of this tiny well, rippling through the yellow daffodils and "starry river buds," wonderfully pleasing; but what an interest fills the mind as we hear that this is the source of the Danube! "The mighty river that sweeps along through the rocky gorges of Upper Austria, washes the foundations of the Imperial Vienna, and flows on, ever swelling and widening and deepening, to the Black Sea,—that giant stream, so romantic in its associations with the touching tale of our own Richard,—so picturesque in its windings, so teeming with interest to the poet, the painter, the merchant, and the politician, there it is, a little crystal rivulet, whose destiny might well seem limited to the flowery borders, and blossoming beds around it." This isn't mine, Tom, though it's exactly what I would have said if the words occurred to me, but I copy it out of the Visitors' Book, where strangers write their names, and, so to say, leave their cards upon the infant Danube.
Truisms are only tiresome to the hearer; they are a delightful recreation to the man that tells them, so that I am sorely tempted to mention some of those that suggested themselves to my mind as I stood beside that little spring,—all the analogies that at once arose to my fancy, between human life and the course of a mighty river, between the turnings and twinings and aberrations of childhood, the headlong current of youth, the mature force of manhood, and the trackless issue, at last, into the great ocean of eternity! One lesson we may assuredly gather from the contemplation: not to predicate from small beginnings against the likelihood of a glorious future!
I left the place regretfully; the tranquil quietude of my two hours' ramble through the garden restored me to a serene and peaceful frame of mind. The little village itself, the tidy, unpretending inn, clean, comfortable, and a model of cheapness, were all to my fancy, and I could very well have liked to linger on there for a week or so. After all, what a commentary is it upon all pursuits of pleasure and amusement, to think that we really find our greatest happiness in those little, out-of-the-way, isolated spots, remote from all the attractions and blandishments of the gay world! I don't mean to say that Mrs. D. quite concurred with me, for she grew very impatient at my delay, and wondered excessively "what peculiar attraction the garden of the palace might have possessed, to make me forget myself." But it's not so easy a thing to do as she thinks! Forgetting oneself, Tom, implies so many other oblivions. It means forgetting one's tenants that have been over-rented, one's banker overdrawn, one's horses overworked, one's house out of repair, one's estate out at elbows; forgetting the duns that torment, the creditors that torture you,—the latitats, the writs, the mortgages, the bonds,—all the inflictions, in fact, consequent to parchment, signed, sealed, and delivered over to your persecuting angel! Oh dear, oh dear! what a thirsty swig would I take of Lethe if I could! and how happy would I be to start fresh in life without any one of the "liabilities," as they call them, that attach to Kenny Dodd!
I remember, when I was a schoolboy, no day of the week had such terrors for me as Saturday, because we were obliged to answer a repetition of the whole week's work. That carrying up of the past was a load that always destroyed me! My notion was to let bygones be bygones, and it was downright cruelty to take me over the old ground of my former calamities. The same prejudice has tracked me through life. I can face a new misfortune as well as my neighbors; what kills me is going back over the old ones. Let me tell you, too, that there is a great deal of balderdash talked in the world about experience,—that with experience you 'll do this, that, and t' other better. Don't believe a word of it. You might as well tell me that having the typhus will teach a man patience the next time he catches a fever! Take my word for it, be as fresh as you can against the ills of life,—know as little of them as you can,—think as little of them! Keep your constitution—whether it be moral or physical—as intact as you are able, and rely on it you 'll not fare the worse when it comes to the trial!
It was a fine evening, with a thin rim of a new moon in the sky, when we got ready to leave Donaueschingen. The bill for dinner came to about five shillings for three of us, wine included, and no charge for rooms, so that when I gave as much more to the servants, the enthusiasm of the household knew no bounds. The housemaid, indeed, in an excess of enthusiasm, would kiss my hand, and got rebuked by my wife as a "forward hussy, that ought to be well looked after." From this incident, however, our attention was soon diverted by the arrival of our second carriage, but without James! A note from Morris explained that he did not like to detain the servants, lest it should prove inconvenient to us, and that he would take care James should join us at Constance,—probably early on the next day. This note was handed to me by the post-boy,—a circumstance speedily accounted for, as I got out and saw that the whole company, consisting of Betty, Augustine, the courier, Paddy Byrne, and a fifth, unknown, were all very drunk and unable to speak, closely wedged in the britschka! Of course it was no time to ask for any explanations, and we came on to this place, which we reached by midnight.
As I have given you a somewhat full narrative of what befell us, I may as well, ere I conclude, add some words of explanation of the state of our amiable followers. Betty Cobb, it appears, was seized with connubial symptoms while we were at the castle, and, yielding to the soft impeachment, and not being deterred by any discovery of false rank or pretensions, actually bestowed her hand on a distinguished swineherd that pertained to the place. The wedding took place after we left, the convivial festivities being continued all along the road till they overtook us. Had the unlucky girl married a New Zealand chief, or a Kaffir, her choice could not have fallen upon a more thoroughly savage specimen of the human race. The fellow is a Black Forest Caliban of the worst description. The question is now what to do with him, for Mrs. D. will not consent to part with Betty, nor will Betty separate from her liege lord; so that amongst my other blessings I may number that of carrying about the world a scoundrel that would disgrace a string of galley-slaves! Just imagine, Tom, in the rumble of a travelling-carriage a fellow six foot and a half high, dressed in a cowhide, with an ox gond in his hand, and a long naked knife in his girdle, speaking no intelligible tongue, nor capable of any function save the herding of wild animals,—the most uncultivated specimen of brute nature I ever heard, saw, or even read of! Fancy, I say, the pleasure of "lugging" this creature over the Continent of Europe, feeding, housing, and clothing him, his sole claim being that he is the husband of that precious bargain, Betty Cobb!
Why, he 'd bring shame on a beast caravan! The best of it is, too, he holds to his "caste" like a Hindoo, and refuses all other occupation save the charge of swine. He would not aid to unload the carriage,—would not lift a trunk, nor carry a carpet-bag; and when admonished by Paddy for his laziness, showed two inches of a broad knife up his sleeve with a grin meant to imply that he knew how to resist any assault on his dignity! That the scoundrel has no respect for law, is clear enough; so that my hope is he will commit some terrible infraction, and that we may be able to send him to the galleys for the rest of his days. How I 'm to keep him and Paddy apart is more than yet appears to me. I suppose, in the end, one of them will kill the other.
From what I see here, the expense of keeping this beast—at an hotel at least—will be equal to the cost of three ordinary servants; for he has no regular meal-times, but has food cooked for him "promiscuously," and eats—if I 'm to credit the landlord—either a kid or a lamb per diem, A bear would n't be half the expense, and a far more companionable beast besides. It is but fair to say that Betty seems to adore him; she crams the monster all day with stolen victuals, and appears to have no other care in life than in watching after him.
What induces Mrs. D. to feel this sudden attachment to Betty herself, I can't imagine. Up to this she railed at her unceasingly, and deplored the day and the hour she took her from home. But now, when this alliance really makes her insupportable, she won't hear of parting with her, and submits to a degree of tyranny from this woman that is utterly inexplicable. It's another of those feminine anomalies, Tom, that neither you nor I, nor maybe anybody else, will ever be able to reconcile.
You will probably wonder how, at a moment like this, smarting as I am under the combined effects of insult and disappointment, I can turn my attention to a matter of this trifling nature; but I confess to you that the admission of this uncivilized element into the circle of my family inspires me with feelings of disgust, not unmixed with terror; for what he may do in any access of fury the infernal gods alone can say. So long as we are here, in this remote and little-visited town, the notice he attracts is confined to a troop of street loungers who follow him; but I have yet to learn how we are ever to make our appearance in a regular city in his company.
Now to another matter, Tom, and the most essential of all. What are we to do for money? for, whether we go on or go back, we must have it. I have n't the heart to go over the accounts; nor would it put sixpence more in my pockets, if I was like Babbage's calculating-machine! Screw up the tenants, and make them pay the arrears. Healey owes us at least two hundred pounds. Try if he can't pay half. See, besides, if you cannot find a tenant for the place, even for a year. This Exhibition in Dublin will fill the country with strangers; and a good advertisement of Dodsborough, with an account of the "shooting and fishing, capital society, and two packs of hounds in the neighborhood," might take the notice of some aspiring Cockney. From what I see in the papers, Ireland is going to be the fashion this summer. I suppose that she is starved down to the pitch to be "thin and genteel," and that's the reason of it.
Tell me what you think of this great display of "industrial products," as they call it. Are we as wonderful as the Irish papers say, or are we really as backward as the "Times" pronounces us? My own notion is that the whole thing proceeds on a misconception of the country and its capabilities. These Exhibitions are essentially dependent on manufacturing skill for their excellence. Now, we are not a manufacturing people. We are agriculturists, and so are the Yankees; and consequently the utmost we can do is to show off the clever inventions and cunning products of our neighbors. Writing, as I do, confidentially to yourself, I will own, too, that I am not one of those sanguine admirers of these raree-shows, nor do I see in them the seeds of all that progress that others prophesy. Looking at a wonderful mechanical invention will no more teach me to imitate it, than going to Batty's Circus will enable me to jump through a hoop, or ride on my head! Amusement, pleasure, interest, there is in one as much as the other; but as for any educational advantage, Tom, I don't believe in it. To the scientific man these things are all familiar,—to the peasant they are all miraculous; and though the Electric Telegraph be really a wonderful thing, after one sees the miracles of the Church it ceases to surprise you! At all events, give me some account of the place and the people in your next, and write soon.
I have kept this a day back, hoping to announce James's arrival here, but up to this there is no tidings of him. Yours, ever faithfully,
Kenny James Dodd.
P. S. I find now that this town is not in Switzerland, but in Baden, for the police have been here to know "who we are?" and "why we have come?"—two questions that would take longer to answer than they suspect. How absurd these little bits of national prejudice sound, when the symbol of nationality is only a blue post or a white one, and no geographical limit announces a new country. Droll enough, too, they are most importunate in their inquiries after James; as if the appearance of his name in the passport requires that he should be forthcoming when asked for. Ah, Tom! if the fellows that knocked old Europe about in '48 had resolutely set their faces against these stumbling-blocks to civilization—passports, police spies, town dues, and gate imposts,—they 'd have won the sympathy of millions, who do not care a rush about Universal Suffrage and the Liberty of the Press,—and, what is more, the concessions could never have been revoked nor recalled!
To myself, individually, the system presents few annoyances; for I sit serene behind my ignorance of all continental languages, and say to myself, "Touch me if you dare." Maybe they half suspect the substance of my meditations, for they show the greatest deference towards my condition of passive resistance. The Brigadier has just bowed himself out of the room, with what sounded like a hearty curse, but what Mary Anne assures me was a sincere protestation of his sentiment of "high consideration and esteem." And now to dinner.