Women of 'Ninety-Eight

by Mrs. Thomas Concannon

The next letter is dated a week later:

“My dear Mother—I am sorry to tell you that Mrs. Cuthbert has been very ill ever since the day I came here. My arm is almost stout, and Dr. MacNevin says it will be as well as ever. I bathe a little every morning, at first I was afraid to dive, but now I am growing bolder. I am counting with Mr. Dowling in the morning, reading and grammar with Doctor Dickson, in the middle of the day, and writing and reading with my father, who is also beginning to teach me geography, in the afternoon. I play in the evening with Robert Emmet and his sisters; sometimes I sup at their mother’s, and sometimes in our own room, on bread and milk. I go to bed at nine, and rise before eight o’clock. Father sits an hour later than me. My love to my sisters.”

A letter to his sister Anne who was with Sophia in Dublin (probably at Mrs. Bond’s), comes next in order of time, and we learn from it that he knew his father from his picture, and that he bathes every morning at eight o’clock. He conveys a message from John Sweetman to Sophia who was evidently an old favourite of the genial brewer.

By the middle of September William is quite settled down in his new quarters, and extremely happy in them. “Everything here is agreeable, and my father takes great care of me. The little Emmets are fine play-fellows, but I am ten hours at my education, and I think it not long. I sleep very sound all night, and in the morning my father awakes me to my lessons. He says I am in a fair way of being a good scholar.... I get my copies from Mr. Dowdall, who sends his best respects to you. Tell John we have got no bag-pipes yet, nor any errand-going dogs.”

We next hear of William’s performance on the flute at a concert given by the children in Mrs. Emmet’s room, with Mr. and Mrs. Emmet, Neilson, John Sweetman, Dr. MacNevin and the boy’s self-appointed music-master, Cormick, as the appreciative audience:—

“My dear Mother. We had a concert on Friday evening, when Robert Emmet and I played several tunes together, and we had the approbation of the whole company. I am reading Erasmus in Latin with Dr. Dickson, and I am in the rule of five of fractions and tare and tret with Mr. Dowling. My father assists me in everything.”

Poor William fell ill towards the New Year, but sickness had its alleviations in Fort George for a little boy whom everybody idolised. It meant all kinds of petting from Jane Park and Mrs. Cuthbert, and gifts of jellies and fruit and sweetmeats from Mrs. Emmet. Nor was that all, as witness the following letter from the convalescent to his sisters:—

“My dear Sisters.—I suppose you have heard that I was sick; but I am sure you will be happy to hear that I am perfectly recovered. When I was ill my little pigeon used to play about me like my little cat; it is very fond of me. Dr. Dickson who was so kind as to teach me Latin, has left us; but Mr. Dowling is good enough to supply his place, and to continue my arithmetic also. I can now play twenty-one tunes on the flute, and Mr. Cormick gives me those which will be most agreeable to my mother. I have just begun trigonometry with Mr. Russell. I read history and biography in English with Mr. Emmet. With my father geography, and a little of everything except writing, which he thinks will be best deferred for some time. Robert Emmet is my schoolfellow in all classes.”

Some of the State prisoners were liberated about this time, including as we learn from William’s letter above, Dr. Dickson. A subsequent letter to his mother indicates his regret, even in the midst of the fine sliding the long-continued frost afforded him, for Mr. Simms (another of those liberated) with whom he used to play “tig.” His father tries to supply the loss of Mr. Simms by playing “shinney” with his little son, and the latter makes himself useful to the prisoners by keeping a weekly account of the washing sent out, and checking it when it comes back. And so the days pass.

Anxious days they are for the father whose future is so uncertain. It is clear that with the coming of the long-expected peace the remainder of the prisoners will be sent away from Fort George. But whither? And what is best to be done with William?