Como
My dear Tom,—This may perchance be a lengthy despatch, for I have just received a polite invitation from the authorities here to pack off, bag and baggage, over the frontier; and as it is doubtful where our next move may take us, I write this "in extenso," and to clear off all arrears up to the present date.
At the conclusion of my last, if I remember aright, I was in anxious expectation of a visit from Signor Giacomo Lamporeccho. That accomplished gentleman, however, had been so fatigued by his labors in the procession, and so ill from a determination of blood to the head, brought on by being tied for two hours to a tree, with his legs uppermost, to represent the saint's martyrdom, that he could not wait upon me till the third day after the Festa; and then his streaked eyeballs and flushed face attested that even mock holiness is a costly performance.
"You are Giacomo?" said I, as he entered; and I ought to mention that in air and appearance he was a large, full, fine-looking man, of about eight-and-thirty or forty, dressed in very accurate black, and with a splendid chain of mosaic gold twined and festooned across his ample chest; opal shirt-studs and waistcoat buttons, and a very gorgeous-looking signet-ring on his forefinger aided to show off a stylish look, rendered still more imposing by a beard a Grand Vizier might have envied, and a voice a semi-tone deeper than Lablache's.
"Giacomo Lamporeccho," said he; and though he uttered the words like a human bassoon, they really sounded as if he preferred not to be himself, but somebody else, in case I desired it.
"Well, Giacomo," said I, easily, and trying to assume as much familiarity as I could with so imposing a personage, "I want you to afford me some information about these accounts of mine."
"Ah! the house accounts!" said he, with a very slight elevation of the eyebrows, but quite sufficient to convey to me an expression of contemptuous meaning.
"Just so, Giacomo; they appear to me high,—enormously, extravagantly high!"
"His Excellency paid, at least, the double in London," said he, bowing.
"That's not the question. We are in Lombardy,—a land where the price of everything is of the cheapest. How comes it, then, that we are maintaining our house at greater cost than even Paris would require?"
With a volubility that I can make no pretension to follow, the fellow ran over the prices of bread, meat, fowls, and fish, showing that they were for half their cost elsewhere; that his Excellency's table was actually a mean one; that sea-fish from Venice, and ortolans, seldom figured at it above once or twice a week; that it was rare to see a second flask of champagne opened at dinner; that our Bordeaux was bad, and our Burgundy bitter; in short, he thought his Excellency had come expressly for economy, as great "milors" will occasionally do, and that if so, he must have had ample reason to be satisfied with the experiment.
Though every sentiment the fellow uttered was an impertinence, he bowed and smiled, and demeaned himself with such an air of humility throughout, that I stood puzzled between the matter and the manner of his address. Meanwhile he was not idle, but running over with glib volubility the names of all the "illustrissimi Inglesi" he had been cheating and robbing for a dozen years back. To nail him to the fact of the difference between the cost of the article and the gross sum expended, was downright impossible, though he clearly gave to understand that any inquiry into the matter showed his Excellency to be the shabbiest of men,—mean, grasping, and avaricious, and, in fact, very likely to be no "milor" at all, but some poor pretender to rank and station.
I felt myself waxing wroth with a weak frame,—about as unpleasant a situation as can be fancied; for let me observe to you, Tom, that the brawny proportions of Signor Lamporeccho would not have prevented my trying conclusion with him, had I been what you last saw me; but, alas! the Italian doctor had bled me down so low that I was not even a match for one of his countrymen. I was therefore obliged to inform my friend that, being alone with him, and our interview having taken the form of a privileged communication, he was a thief and a robber!
The words were not uttered, when he drew a long and glistening knife from behind his back, under his coat, and made a rush at me. I seized the butt-end of James's fishing-rod,—fortunately beside me,—and held him at bay, shouting wildly, "Murder!" all the while. The room was filled in an instant; Tiverton and the girls, followed by all the servants and several peasants, rushing in pell-mell. Before, however, I could speak, for I was almost choked with passion, Signor Giacomo had gained Lord George's ear, and evidently made him his partisan.
Tiverton cleared the room as fast as he could, mumbling out something to the girls that seemed to satisfy them and allay their fears, and then, closing the door, took his seat beside me.
"It will not signify," said he to me, in a kind voice; "the thing is only a scratch, and will be well in a day or two."
"What do you mean?" said I.
"Egad! you'll have to be cautious, though," said he, laughing. "It was in a very awkward place; and that too is n't the handiest for minute anatomy."
"Do you want to drive me mad, my Lord; for, if not, Just take the trouble to explain yourself."
"Pooh, pooh!" said he; "don't fuss yourself about nothing. I understand how to deal with these fellows. You 'll see, five-and-twenty Naps, will set it all right."
"I see," said I, "your intention is to outrage me; and I beg that I may be left alone."
"Come, don't be angry with me, Dodd," cried he, in one of his good-tempered, coaxing ways. "I know well you 'd never have done it—"
"Done what,—done what?" screamed I, in an agony of rage.
He made a gesture with the fishing-rod, and burst out a-laughing for reply.
"Do you mean that I stuck that scoundrel that has just gone out?" cried I.
"And no great harm, either!" said he.
"Do you mean that I stuck him?—answer me that."
"Well, I 'd be just as much pleased if you had not," said he; "for, though they are always punching holes into each other, they don't like an Englishman to do it. Still, keep quiet, and I 'll set it all straight before to-morrow. The doctor shall give a certificate, setting forth mental excitement, and so forth. We 'll show that you are not quite responsible for your actions just now."
"Egad, you 'll have a proof of your theory, if you go on much longer at this rate," said I, grinding my teeth with passion.
"And then we 'll get up a provocation of some kind or other. Of course, the thing will cost money,—that can't be helped; but we'll try to escape imprisonment."
"Send Cary to me,—send my daughter here!" said I, for I was growing weak.
"But had n't you better let us concert—"
"Send Cary to me, my Lord, and leave me!" and I said the words in a way that he could n't misunderstand. He had scarcely quitted the room when Cary entered it.
"There, dearest papa," said she, caressingly, "don't fret. It's a mere trifle; and if he was n't a wretchedly cowardly creature, he 'd think nothing of it!"
"Are you in the conspiracy against me too?" cried I; "have you also joined the enemy?"
"That I haven't," said she, putting an arm round my neck; "and I know well, if the fellow had not grossly outraged, or perhaps menaced you, you 'd never have done it! I 'm certain of that, pappy!"
Egad, Tom, I don't like to own it, but the truth is—I burst out a-crying; that's what all this bleeding and lowering has brought me to, that I have n't the nerve of a kitten! It was the inability to rebut all this balderdash—to show that it was a lie from beginning to end—confounded me; and when I saw my poor Cary, that never believed ill of me before, that, no matter what I said or did, always took my part, and, if she could n't defend at least excused me,—when, I say, I saw that she gave in to this infernal delusion, I just felt as if my heart was going to break, and I sincerely wished it might.
I tried very hard to summon strength to set her right; I suppose that a drowning man never struggled harder to reach a plank than did I to grasp one thought well and vigorously; but to no use. My ideas danced about like the phantoms in a magic lantern, and none would remain long enough to be recognized.
"I think I 'll take a sleep, my dear," said I.
"The very wisest thing you could do, pappy," said she, closing the shutters noiselessly, and sitting down in her old place beside my bed.
Though I pretended slumber, I never slept a wink. I went over all this affair in my mind, and, summing up the evidence against me, I began to wonder if a man ever committed a homicide without knowing it,—I mean, if, when his thoughts were very much occupied, he could stick a fellow-creature and not be aware of it. I could n't exactly call any case in point to mind, but I did n't see why it might not be possible. If stabbing people was a common and daily habit of an individual, doubtless he might do it, just as he would wind his watch or wipe his spectacles, while thinking of something else; but as it was not a customary process, at least where I came from, there was the difficulty. I would have given more than I had to give, just to ask Cary a few questions,—as, for instance, how did it happen? where is the wound? how deep is it? and so on,—but I was so terrified lest I should compromise my innocence that I would not venture on a syllable. One sees constantly in the police reports how the prisoner, when driving off to jail with Inspector Potts, invariably betrays himself by some expression of anxiety or uneasiness, such as "Well, nobody can say I did it! I was in Houndsditch till eleven o'clock;" or, "Poor Molly, I did n't mean her any harm, but it was she begun it." Warned by these indiscreet admissions, I was guarded not to utter a word. I preserved my resolution with such firmness that I fell into a sound sleep, and never awoke till the next morning.
Before I acknowledged myself to be awake,—don't you know that state, Tom, in which a man vibrates between consciousness and indolence, and when he has not fully made up his mind whether he 'll not skulk his load of daily cares a little longer?—I could perceive that there was a certain stir and movement about me that betokened extraordinary preparation, and I could overhear little scraps of discussions as to whether "he ought to be awakened," and "what he should wear," Cary's voice being strongly marked in opposition to everything that portended any disturbance of me. Patience, I believe, is not my forte, though long-suffering may be my fortune, for I sharply asked, "What the——— was in the wind now?"
"We'll leave him to Cary," said Mrs. D., retiring precipitately, followed by the rest, while Cary came up to my bedside, and kindly began her inquiries about my health; but I stopped her, by a very abrupt repetition of my former question.
"Oh! it's a mere nothing, pappy,—a formality, and nothing more. That creature, Giacomo, has been making a fuss over the affair of last night; and though Lord George endeavored to settle it, he refused, and went off to the Tribunal to lodge a complaint."
"Well, go on."
"The Judge, or Prefect, or whatever he is, took his depositions, and issued a warrant—"
"To apprehend me?"
"Don't flurry yourself, dearest pappy; these are simply formalities, for the Brigadier has just told me—"
"He is here, then,—in the house?"
"Why will you excite yourself in this way, when I tell you that all will most easily be arranged? The Brigadier only asks to see you,—to ascertain, in fact, that you are really ill, and unable to be removed—"
"To jail—to the common prison, eh?"
"Oh, I must not talk to you, if it irritates you in this fashion; indeed, there is now little more to say, and if you will just permit the Brigadier to come in for a second, everything is done."
"I 'm ready for him," said I, in a tone that showed I needed no further information; and Cary left the room.
After about five minutes' waiting, in an almost intolerable impatience, the Brigadier, stooping his enormous bearskin to fully three feet, entered with four others, armed cap-à-pic, who drew up in a line behind him, and grounded their carbines with a clank that made the room shake. The Brigadier, I must tell you, was a very fine soldier-like fellow, and with fully half a dozen decorations hanging to his coat. It struck me that he was rather disappointed; he probably expected to see a man of colossal proportions and herculean strength, instead of the poor remnant of humanity that chicken broth and the lancet have left me. The room, too, seemed to fall below his expectations; for he threw his eyes around him without detecting any armory or offensive weapons, or, indeed, any means of resistance whatever.
"This is his Excellency?" said he at last, addressing Cary; and she nodded.
"Ask him his own name, Cary," said I. "I'm curious about it."
"My name," said he, sonorously, to her question,—"my name is Alessandro Lamporeccho;" and with that he gave the word to his people to face about, and away they marched with all the solemnity of a military movement. As the door closed behind them, however, I heard a few words uttered in whispers, and immediately afterwards the measured tread of a sentry slowly parading the lobby outside my room.
"That's another formality, Cary," said I, "is n't it?" She nodded for reply. "Tell them I detest ceremony, my dear," said I; "and—and "—I could n't keep down my passion—"and if they don't take that fellow away, I'll pitch him head and crop over the banisters." I tried to spring up, but back I fell, weak, and almost fainting. The sad truth came home to me at once that I had n't strength to face a baby; so I just turned my face to the wall, and sulked away to my heart's content. If I tell you how I spent that day, the same story will do for the rest of the week. I saw that they were all watching and waiting for some outbreak, of either my temper or my curiosity. They tried every means to tempt me into an inquiry of one kind or other. They dropped hints, in half-whispers, before me. They said twenty things to arouse anxiety, and even alarm, in me; but I resolved that if I passed my days there, I 'd starve them out: and so I did.
On the ninth day, when I was eating my breakfast, just as I had finished my mutton-chop, and was going to attack the eggs, Cary, in a half-laughing way, said, "Well, pappy, do you never intend to take the air again? The weather is now delightful,—that second season they call the summer of St. Joseph."
"Ain't I a prisoner?" said I. "I thought I had murdered somebody, and was sentenced for life to this chamber."
"How can you be so silly!" said she. "You know perfectly well how these foreigners make a fuss about everything, and exaggerate every trifle into a mock importance. Now, we are not in Ireland—"
"No," said I, "would to Heaven we were!"
"Well, perhaps I might echo the prayer without doing any great violence to my sincerity; but as we are not there, nor can we change the venue—is n't that the phrase?—to our own country, what if we just were to make the best of it, and suffer this matter to take its course here?"
"As how, Cary?"
"Simply by dressing yourself, and driving into Como. Your case will be heard on any morning you present yourself; and I am so convinced that the whole affair will be settled in five minutes that I am quite impatient it should be over."
I will not repeat all her arguments, some good and some bad, but every one of them dictated by that kind and affectionate spirit which, however her judgment incline, never deserts her. The end of it was, I got up, shaved, and dressed, and within an hour was skimming over the calm clear water towards the little city of Como.
Cary was with me,—she would come,—she said she knew she did me good; and it was true: but the scene itself—those grand, great mountains; those leafy glens, opening to the glassy lake, waveless and still; that glorious reach of blue sky, spanning from peak to peak of those Alpine ridges—all soothed and calmed me; and in the midst of such gigantic elements, I could not help feeling shame that such a reptile as I should mar the influence of this picture on my heart by petty passions and little fractious discontents an worthy of a sick schoolboy.
"Is n't it enough for you, K. I.," says I, "ay, and more than you deserve, just to live, and breathe, and have your being in such a bright and glorious world? If you were a poet, with what images would not these swooping mists, these fleeting shadows, people your imagination? What voices would you hear in the wind sighing through the olive groves, and dying in many a soft cadence along the grottoed shore? If a painter, what effects of sunlight and shadow are there to study? what tints of color, that, without nature to guarantee, you would never dare to venture on? But being neither, having neither gift nor talent, being simply one of those 4 fruit consumers,' who bring back nothing to the common stock of mankind, and who can no more make my fellow-man wiser or better than I make myself taller or younger, is it not a matter of deep thankfulness that, in all my common-place of mind and thought, I too—even K. I. that I am—have an intense feeling of enjoyment in the contemplation of this scene? I could n't describe it like Shelley, nor paint it like Stan field, but I 'll back myself for a five-pound note to feel it with either of them." And there, let me tell you, Tom, is the real superiority of Nature over all her counterfeits. You need no study, no cultivation, no connoisseurship to appreciate her: her glorious works come home to the heart of the peasant, as, mist-begirt, he waits for sunrise on some highland waste, as well as to the Prince, who gazes on the swelling landscape of his own dominions. I could n't tell a Claude from a Canaletti,—I 'm not sure that I don't like H. B. better than Albert Durer,—but I 'd not surrender the heartfelt delight, the calm, intense, deep-souled gratitude I experience from the contemplation of a lovely landscape, to possess the Stafford gallery.
I was, then, in a far more peaceful and practicable frame of mind as we entered Como than when I quitted the villa.
I should like to have lingered a little in the old town itself, with its quaint little arched passages and curious architecture; but Cary advised me to nurse all my strength for the "Tribunal." I suppose it must be with some moral hope of discountenancing litigation that foreign Governments always make the Law Courts as dirty and disgusting as possible, pitch them in a filthy quarter, and surround them with every squalor. This one was a paragon of its kind, and for rags and ruffianly looks I never saw the equal of the company there assembled. I am not yet quite sure that the fellow who showed us the way did n't purposely mislead us; for we traversed a dozen dark corridors, and went up and went down more staircases than I have accomplished for the last six months. Now and then we stopped for a minute to interrogate somebody through a sliding pane in a kind of glass cage, and off we went again. At last we came to a densely crowded passage, making way through which, we entered a large hall with a vaulted roof, crammed with people, but who made room at the instance of a red-eyed, red-bearded little man in a black gown, that I now, to my horror and disgust, found out was my counsel, being already engaged by Lord George to defend me.
"This is treachery, Cary," whispered I, angrily.
"I know it is," said she, "and I 'm one of the traitors; but anything is better than to see you pine away your life in a sick-room."
This was neither the time nor place for much colloquy, as we now had to fight our way vigorously through the mob till we reached a row of seats where the bar were placed, and where we were politely told to be seated. Directly in front of us sat three ill-favored old fellows in black gowns and square black caps, modelled after those brown-paper helmets so popular with plasterers and stucco men in our country. I found it a great trial not to laugh every time I looked at them!
There was no case "on" at the moment, but a kind of wrangle was going forward about whose was to be the next hearing, in which I could hear my own name mingled. My lawyer, Signor Mastuccio, seemed to make a successful appeal in my favor; for the three old "plasterers" put up their eyeglasses, and stared earnestly at Cary, after which the chief of them nodded benignly, and said that the case of Giacomo Lamporeccho might be called; and accordingly, with a voice that might have raised the echoes of the Alps, a fellow screamed out that the "homicidio"—I have no need to translate the word—was then before the Court If I only were to tell you, Tom, of the tiresome, tedious, and unmeaning formalities that followed, your case in listening would be scarcely more enviable than was my own while enduring them. All the preliminary proceedings were in writing, and a dirty little dog, with a vile odor of garlic about him, read some seventy pages of a manuscript which I was informed was the accusation against me. Then appeared another creature,—his twin brother in meanness and poverty,—who proved to be a doctor, the same who had professionally attended the wounded man, and who also read a memoir of the patient's sufferings and peril. These occupied the Court till it was nigh three o'clock, when, being concluded, Giacomo himself was called. I assure you, Tom, I gave a start when, instead of the large, fine, burly, well-bearded rascal with the Lablache voice, I beheld a pale, thin, weakly creature, with a miserable treble, inform the Court that he was Giacomo Lamporeccho.
Cary, who translated for me as he spoke, told me that he gave an account of our interview together, in which it would appear that my conduct was that of an outrageous maniac. He described me as accusing everybody of roguery and cheating,—calling the whole country a den of thieves, and the authorities their accomplices. He detailed his own mild remonstrances against my hasty judgment, and his calm appeals to my better reason. He dwelt long upon his wounded honor, and, what he felt still more deeply, the wounded honor of his nation; and at last he actually began to cry when his feelings got too much for him, at which the Court sobbed, and the bar sobbed, and the general audience, in a mixture of grief and menace, muttered the most signal vengeance against your humble servant.
I happened to be—a rare thing for me, latterly—in one of my old moods, when the ludicrous and absurd carry away all my sympathies; and faith, Tom, I laughed as heartily as ever I did in my life at the whole scene. "Are we coming to the wound yet, Cary," said I, "tell me that," for the fellow had now begun again.
"Yes, papa, he is describing it, and, by his account, it ought to have killed him."
"Egad," said I, "it will be the death of me with laughing;" and I shook till my sides ached.
"Does his Excellency know that he is in a Court of Justice?" said Plasterer No. 1.
"Tell him, my dear, that I quite forgot it. I fancied I was at a play, and enjoyed it much."
I believe Cary did n't translate me honestly, for the old fellow seemed appeased, and the case continued. I could now perceive that my atrocious conduct had evoked a very strong sentiment in the auditory, for there was a great rush forward to get a look at me, and they who were fortunate enough to succeed complimented me by a string of the most abusive and insulting epithets.
My advocate was now called on, and, seeing him rise, I just whispered to Cary, "Ask the judge if we may see the wound?"
"What does that question mean?" said the chief judge, imperiously. "Would the prisoner dare to insinuate that the wound has no existence?"
"You've hit it," said I. "Tell him, Cary, that's exactly what I mean."
"Has not the prisoner sworn to his sufferings," repeated he, "and the doctor made oath to the treatment?"
"They 're both a pair of lying scoundrels. Tell him so, Cary."
"You see him now. There is the man himself in his true colors, most illustrious and most ornate judges," exclaimed Giacomo, pointing to me with his finger, as I nearly burst with rage.
"Ah! che diavolo! che demonio infernale!" rang out amidst the waving crowd; and the looks bestowed on me from the bench seemed to give hearty concurrence to the opinion.
Now, Tom, a court of justice, be its locale ever so humble, and its procedure ever so simple, has always struck me as the very finest evidence of homage to civilization. There is something in the fact of men submitting, not only their worldly interests and their characters, but even their very passions, to the arbitration of their fellow-men, that is indescribably fine and noble, and shows—if we even wanted such a proof—that this corrupt nature of ours, in the midst of all its worst influences, has still some of that divine essence within, unsullied and untarnished. And just as I reverence this, do I execrate, with all my heart's indignation, a corrupt judicature. The governments who employ, and the people who tolerate them, are well worthy of each other.
Take all the vices that degrade a nation, "bray them in a mortar," and they 'll not eat so deep into the moral feeling of a people as a tainted administration of the law.
You may fancy that, in my passionate warmth, I have forgotten all about my individual case: no such thing. I have, however, rescued myself from the danger of an apoplexy by opening this safety-valve to my indignation. And now I cannot resume my narrative. No, Tom, "I have lost the scent," and all I can do is to bring you "in at the death." I was sentenced to pay seven hundred zwanzigers,—eight-pences,—all the costs of the procedure, the doctor's bill, and the maintenance of Giacomo till his convalescence was completed. I appealed on the spot to an upper court, and the judgment was confirmed! I nearly burst with indignant anger, and asked my advocate if he had ever heard of such iniquity. He shrugged his shoulders, smiled slightly, and said, "The law is precarious in all countries."
"Yes,—but," said I, "the judges are not always corrupt. Now, that old president of the first court suggested every answer to the witness—"
"Vincenzio Lamporeccho is a shrewd man—"
"What! How do you call him? Is he anything to our friend Giacomo?"
"He is his father!"
"And the Brigadier who arrested me?"
"Is his brother. The junior judge of the Appeal Court, Luigi Lamporeccho, is his first cousin."
I did n't ask more questions, Tom. Fancy a country where your butler is brother to the chief baron, and sues you for wages in the Court of Exchequer!
"And you, Signor Mastuccio," said I. "I hope I have not exposed you to the vengeance of this powerful family by your zeal in my behalf?"
"Not in the least," said he; "my mother was a Lamporeccho herself."
Now, Tom, I think I need not take any more pains to explain the issue of my lawsuit; and here I'll leave it.
My parting benediction to the Court was brief: "Goodbye, old gentlemen. I 'm glad you have the Austrians here to bully you; and not sorry that you are here to assassinate them." This speech was overheard by some learned linguist in court, and on the same evening I received an intimation to quit the Imperial dominions within twenty-four hours. Tiverton was for going up to Milan to Radetzky, or somebody, else, and having it all "put straight," as he calls it; but I would not hear of this.
"We 'll write to the Ambassador at Vienna?" said he.
"Nor that either," said I.
"To the 'Times,' then."
"Not a word of it."
"You don't mean to say," said he, "that you 'll put up with this treatment, and that you'll lower the name of Briton before these foreigners by such a tame submission?"
"My view of the case is a very simple one, my Lord," said I; "and it is this. We travelling English are very prone to two faults; one is, a bullying effort to oppose ourselves to the laws of the countries we visit; and then, when we fail, a whining appeal to some minister or consul to take up our battle. The first is stupid, the latter is contemptible. The same feeling that would prevent me trespassing on the hospitality of an unwilling host will rescue me from the indignity of remaining in a country where my presence is distasteful to the rulers of it."
"Such a line of conduct," said he, "would expose us to insult from one end of Europe to the other."
"And if it teach us to stay at home, and live under laws that we understand, the price is not too high for the benefit."
He blustered away about what he would n't do in the Press, and in his "place" in Parliament; but what's the use of all that? Will England go to war for Kenny James Dodd? No. Well, then, by no other argument is the foreigner assailable. Tell the Austrian or the Russian Government that the company at the "Freemasons'" dinner were shocked, and the ladies at Exeter Hall were outraged at their cruelty, and they 'll only laugh at you. We can't send a fleet to Vienna; nor—we would n't if we could.
I did n't tell Lord George, but to you, in confidence, Tom, I will say, I think we have—if we liked it—a grand remedy for all these cases. Do you know that it was thinking of Tim Ryan, the rat-catcher at Kelly's mills, suggested it to me. Whenever Tim came up to a house with his traps and contrivances, if the family said they did n't need him, "for they had no rats," he 'd just loiter about the place till evening,—and, whatever he did, or how he did it, one thing was quite sure, they had never to make the same complaint again! Now, my notion is, whenever we have any grudge with a foreign State, don't begin to fit out fleets or armaments, but just send a steamer off to the nearest port with one of the refugees aboard. I 'd keep Kossuth at Malta, always ready; Louis Blanc and Ledru Rollin at Jersey; Don Miguel and Don Carlos at Gibraltar; and have Mazzini and some of the rest cruising about for any service they may be wanted on. In that way, Tom, we 'd keep these Governments in order, and, like Tim Ryan, be turning our vermin to a good account besides!
I thought that Mrs. D. and Mary Anne displayed a degree of attachment to this place rather surprising, considering that I have heard of nothing but its inconvenience till this moment, when we are ordered to quit it. Now, however, they suddenly discover it to be healthful, charming, and economical. I have questioned Cary as to the secret of this change, but she does not understand it. She knows that Lord George received a large packet by the post this morning, and instantly hurried off to communicate its contents to Mary Anne. By George! Tom, I have come to the notion that to rule a family of four people, one ought to have a "detective officer" attached to the household. Every day or so, something puzzling and inexplicable occurs, the meaning of which never turns up till you find yourself duped, and then it is too late to complain. Now, this same letter Cary speaks of is at this very instant exercising a degree of influence here, and I am to remain in ignorance of the cause till I can pick it out from the effect. This, too, is another blessed result of foreign travel! When we lived at home the incidents of our daily life were few, and not very eventful; they were circumscribed within narrow limits, and addressed themselves to the feelings of every one amongst us. Concealment would have been absurd, even were it possible; but the truth was, we were all so engaged with the same topics and the same spirit, that we talked of them constantly, and grew to think that outside the little circle of ourselves the world was a mere wilderness. To be sure, all this sounds very narrow-minded, and all that. So it does; but let me tell you, it conduces greatly to happiness and contentment.
Now, here, we have so many irons in the fire, some one or other of us is always burning his fingers!
I continue to be very uneasy about James. Not a line have we had from him, and he 's now several weeks gone! I wrote to Vickars, but have not yet heard from him in reply. Cary endeavors to persuade me that it is only his indolent, careless habit is in fault; but I can see that she is just as uncomfortable and anxious as myself.
You will collect from the length of this document that I am quite myself again; and, indeed, except a little dizziness in my head after dinner, and a tendency to sleep, I 'm all right. Not that I complain of the latter,—far from it, Tom. Sancho Panza himself never blessed the inventor of it more fervently than I do.
Sometimes, however, I think that it is the newspapers are not so amusing as they used to be. The racy old bitterness of party spirit is dying out, and all the spicy drollery and epigrammatic fun of former days gone with it. It strikes me, too, Tom, that "Party," in the strong sense, never can exist again amongst us. Party is essentially the submission of the many to the few; and so long as the few were pre-eminent in ability and tactical skill, nothing was more salutary. Wal-pole, Pelham, Pitt, and Fox stood immeasurably above the men and the intelligence of their time. Their statecraft was a science of which the mass of their followers were totally ignorant, and the crew never dreamt of questioning the pilot as to the course he was about to take. Whereas now—although by no means deficient in able and competent men to rule us—the body of the House is filled by others very little their inferiors. Old Babbington used to say "that between a good physician and a bad one, there was only the difference between a pound and a guinea." In the same way, there is not a wider interval now between the Right Honorable Secretary on the Treasury Bench and the Honorable Member below him. Education is widely disseminated,—the intercourse of club life is immense,—opportunities of knowledge abound on every hand,—the Press is a great popular instructor; and, above all, the temper and tendency of the age favors labor of every kind. Idleness is not in vogue with any class of the whole community. What chance, then, of any man, no matter how great and gifted he be, imposing, his opinions—as such—upon the world of politics! A minister, or his opponent, may get together a number of supporters for a particular measure, just as you or I could muster a mob at an election or a fair; but there would be no more discipline in the one case than in the other. They'd come now, and go when they liked; and any chance of reducing such "irregulars" to the habits of an army would be downright impossible!
There is another cause of dulness, too, in the newspapers. All the accidents—a most amusing column it used to be—are now entirely caused by railroads; and there is a shocking sameness about them. They were "shunting" wagons across the line when the express came up, or the pointsman did n't turn the switch, or the fog obscured the danger signal. With these three explanations, some hundreds of human beings are annually smashed, smothered, and scalded, and the survivors not a whit more provident than before.
Cruel assaults upon women—usually the wives of the ruffians themselves—are, I perceive, becoming a species of popular custom in England. Every "Times" I see has its catalogue of these atrocities; and I don't perceive that five shilling fines nor even three weeks at the treadmill diminishes the number. One of the railroad companies announces that it will not hold itself responsible for casualties, nor indemnify the sufferers. Don't you think that we might borrow a hint from them, and insert some cause of the same kind into the marriage ceremony, and that the woman should know all her "liabilities" without any hope of appeal? Ah! Tom Purcell, all our naval reviews, and industrial exhibitions, and boastful "leading" articles about our national greatness come with a very ill grace in the same broad sheet with these degrading police histories. Must savage ferocity accompany us as we grow in wealth and power? If so, then I 'd rather see us a third-rate power to-morrow than rule the world at the cost of such disgrace!
Ireland, I see, jogs on just as usual, wrangling away. They can't even agree whether the potatoes have got the rot or not. Some of the papers, too, are taking up the English cry of triumph over the downfall of our old squirearchy; but it does not sound well from them. To be sure, some of the new proprietors would seem not only to have taken our estates, but tasted the Blarney-stone besides; and one, a great man too, has been making a fine speech with his "respected friend, the Reverend Mr. O'Shea," on his right hand, and vowing that he 'll never turn out anybody that pays the rent, nor dispossess a good tenant! The stupid infatuation of these English makes me sick, Tom. Why, with all their self-sufficiency, can't they see that we understand our own people better than they do? We know the causes of bad seasons and short harvests better; we know the soil better, and the climate better, and if we haven't been good landlords, it is simply because we couldn't afford it. Now, they are rich, and can afford it; and if they have bought up Irish estates to get the rents out of them, I 'd like to know what's to be the great benefit of the change. "Pay up the arrears," says I; but if my Lord Somebody from England says the same, I think there 's no use in selling me out, and taking him in my place. And this brings me to asking when I'm to get another remittance? I am thinking seriously of retrenchment; but first, Tom, one must have something to retrench upon. You must possess a salary before you can stand "stoppages." Of course we mean "to come home again." I have n't heard that the Government have selected me for a snug berth in the Colonies; so be assured that you'll see us all back in Dodsborough before—
Mrs. D. had been looking over my shoulder, Tom, while I was writing the last line, and we have just had what she calls an "explanation," but what ordinary grammarians would style—a row. She frankly and firmly declares that I may try Timbuctoo or the Gambia if I like, but back to Ireland she positively will not go! She informs me, besides, that she is quite open to an arrangement about a separate maintenance. But my property, Tom, is like poor Jack Heffernan's goose,—it would n't bear carving, so he just helped himself to it all! And, as I said to Mrs. D., two people may get some kind of shelter under one umbrella, but they 'll infallibly be wet through if they cut it in two, and each walk off with his half. "If you were a bit of a gentleman," said she, "you 'd give it all to the lady." That's what I got for my illustration.
But now that I 'm safe once more, I repeat, you shall certainly see us back in our old house again, and which, for more reasons than I choose to detail here, we ought never to have quitted.
I have been just sent for to a cabinet council of the family, who are curious to know whither we are going from this; and as I wish to appear prepared with a plan, and am not strong in geography, I 'll take a look at the map before I go. I've hit it, Tom,—Parma. Parma will do admirably. It's near, and it's never visited by strangers. There 's a gallery of pictures to look at, and, at the worst, plenty of cheese to eat. Tourists may talk and grumble as they will about the dreary aspect of these small capitals, without trade and commerce, with a beggarly Court and a ruined nobility,—to me they are a boon from Heaven. You can always live in them for a fourth of the cost of elsewhere. The head inn is your own, just as the Piazza is, and the park at the back of the palace. It goes hard but you can amuse yourself poking about into old churches, and peeping into shrines and down wells, pottering into the market-place, and watching the bargaining for eggs and onions; and when these fail, it's good fun to mark the discomfiture of your womankind at being shut up in a place where there's neither opera nor playhouse,—no promenade, no regimental band, and not even a milliner's shop.
From all I can learn, Parma will suit me perfectly; and now I 'm off to announce my resolve to the family. Address me there, Tom, and with a sufficiency of cash to move further when necessary.
I 'm this moment come back, and not quite satisfied with what I 've done. Mrs. D. and Mary Anne approve highly of my choice. They say nothing could be better. Some of us must be mistaken, and I fervently trust that it may not be
Your sincere friend,
Kenny James Dodd.