CHAPTER XXI. CHOLERA: AN IMPATIENT PATIENT; GOOD NEWS! ONLY TYPHUS FEVER—ROYAL VISITS—SCOTCH SUPERIORITY STRONGLY ASSERTED—A POLICE BILL STIGMATISED—LEAVE OF ABSENCE—THE RHINE—THE RHINELAND.
Leaving to my readers, without any comment from myself, the consideration of the statements and sentiments contained in the extracts from the French author, I pass to the year 1849, which certainly afforded a most agreeable contrast to its immediate predecessor in the almost total cessation of political agitations and asperities. The only regrettable circumstance to which my recollections of the latter year can revert being the appearance of cholera in Dublin, early in April, and its continuance, with intermitting violence, until October. It was far less prevalent than it had been in 1832, and, in almost every instance, the disease was ascribed to the use of fish, fruit, acid drinks, or habitual intemperance. In the great majority of cases ardent spirits were administered; and the police were frequently complained to by officers of health and other sanitary officials who had been called on to relieve pretended sufferings, in the expectation of brandy or whisky being promptly afforded. Occasionally, on being refused the coveted dram, the mock sufferer became at once invigorated, and addressed abusive language and threats of personal violence to "the cholera fellow." Some instances of opprobrious and menacing expressions were brought by summons under my cognizance, and for such I prescribed a month's sojourn in the Richmond Bridewell, unless the delinquent found two good and substantial sureties for his good behaviour. One of these summonses was reported, I believe by Mr. Dunphy, in the Freeman's Journal. It was described as "an affair in which a patient became impatient, because he was not stimulated when he simulated."
My residence at Roundtown was not far from a range of small cottages occupied by the laboring class. One of our female servants alarmed my family by stating that the cholera was very nigh, for that she had seen five poor people taken off to hospital from the cottages near the quarry. I mentioned her statement to a police sergeant, and requested him to enquire if it was correct. In about half an hour, he returned and said, "Your worship, I have good news for you. The cholera has not come near you: it is only the typhus fever."
ROYAL VISITS.
In 1849, Dublin had the honor of a Royal visit, which was regarded by all classes as a most gratifying event. On the 5th of August, her Majesty Queen Victoria arrived in Kingstown Harbour, accompanied by Prince Albert, the Prince of Wales, the Princess Royal, Prince Alfred, and the Princess Alice. The Victoria and Albert yacht was escorted by ten war steamers, and the squadron anchored about eight o'clock in the evening. The Queen made a public entry into Dublin on the following day, and remained in Ireland until the 10th. Having a perfect recollection of George the Fourth's visit in 1821, I presume to say that the reception of Victoria was most respectful and cordial, and did not indicate the slightest approach to sycophantic adulation. I would not apply the same terms in describing the popular demonstrations which her uncle's visit produced; for if ever a community manifested unanimous servility and insane enthusiasm, it was when his Irish subjects accorded to George the Fourth a homage almost idolatrous. Both visits occurred in the same month, but with an interval of twenty-eight years. I hope that I shall not be deemed too discursive in mentioning that the King was received by the municipal authorities, with the usual ceremonies, at the northern end of Upper Sackville Street, where a gate had been constructed for his admission; and over the external side there appeared a very conspicuous inscription, derived from the sixth book of Virgil's Æneid—
"Hic vir, hic est, tibi quem promitti sæpius audis,
Augustus."[9]