The Dodd Family Abroad, Vol. II

You have no idea, dear Molly, of what a blessed frame of mind these spiritual duties have enabled me to enjoy. How peaceful is my spirit! – how humble my heart! I turn my thoughts away from earth as easily as I could renounce rope-dancing; and when I sit of an evening, in a state of what Lord Guzeberry calls "beatitude," K. I. might have the cholera without my caring for it.

The season is now far advanced, however, and, to my infinite grief, we must leave this holy spot, where we have made a numerous and most valuable acquaintance; for, besides several of the first people of England, we have formed intimacy with the Duchessa di Sangue Nero, first lady to the Queen of Naples; the Marquesa di Villa Guasta, a great leader of fashion in Turin; the "Noncio" at the court of Modena; and a variety of distinguished Florentines and Romans, who all assure us that our devotions are the best passports for admission in all the select houses of Italy.

Mary Anne predicts a brilliant winter before us, and even Cary is all delight at the prospect of picture galleries and works of art. Is n't it paying the Protestants off for their insulting treatment of us at home, Molly, to see all the honor and respect we receive abroad? The tables are completely turned, my dear; for not one of them ever gets his nose into the really high society of this country, while we are welcomed to it with open arms. But if there 's anything sure to get you well received in the first houses, it is having a convert of rank in your train. To be the means of bringing a lord over to the true fold is to be taken up at once by cardinals and princes of all kinds.

As Mary Anne says, "Let us only induce Lord George to enter the Catholic Church and our fortune is made." And oh, Molly, putting all the pomps and vanities of this world aside, never heeding the grandeur of this life, nor caring what men may do to us, is n't it an elegant reflection to save one poor creature from the dreadful road of destruction and ruin! I'm sure it would be the happiest day of my life when I could read in the "Tablet," "We have great satisfaction in announcing to our readers that Lord George Tiverton, member for" – I forget where – "and son of the Marquis " – I forget whom, – "yesterday renounced the errors of the Protestant Church to embrace those of the Church of Rome."

Maybe, now, you 'd like to hear something about ourselves; but I 've little to tell that is either pleasant or entertaining. You know – or, at least, you will know from Kitty Doolan – the way K. I. destroyed poor James, and lost him a beautiful creature and four thousand a year. That was a blow there's no getting over; and, indeed, I'd have sunk under it if it was n't for Father James, and the consolation he has been able to give me. There was an offer came for Caroline. Captain Morris, that you 've heard me speak of, wrote and proposed, which I opened during K. I.'s illness, and sent him a flat refusal, Molly, with a bit of advice in the end, about keeping in his own rank of life, and marrying into his own creed.

Maybe I mightn't have been so stout about rejecting him, for it's the hardest thing in life to marry a daughter nowadays, but that Father Giacomo said his Holiness would never forgive me for taking a heretic into the family, and that it was one of the nine deadly sins.

You may perceive from this, that Father G. is of great use to me when I need advice and guidance, and, indeed, I consulted him as to whether I ought to separate from K. I., or not. There are cases of conscience, he tells me, and cases of convenience. The first are matters for the cardinals and the Holy College! but the others any ordinary priest can settle; and this is one of them. "Don't leave him," says he, "for your means of doing good will only be more limited; and as to your trials, take out some of your mortifications that way; and, above all, don't be too lenient to him." Ay, Molly, he saw my weak point, do what I would to hide it; he knew my failing was an easy disposition, and a patient, submissive turn of mind. But I 'll do my endeavor to conquer it, if it was only for the poor children's sake; for I know he'd marry again, and I sometimes suspect I 've hit the one he has his eyes on.

On Friday next we are to leave this for Genoa. It's the end of our Novena, and we would n't have time for another before the snow sets in; for though we're in Italy, Molly, the mountains all round us are tipped with snow, and it's as cold now, when you 're in the shade, as I ever felt it in Ireland. It's a great tournament at Genoa is taking us there. There 's to be the King of Saxony, and the King of Bohemia, too, I believe; for whenever you begin to live in fashionable life, you must run after royal people from place to place, be seen wherever they are, and be quite satisfied whenever your name is put down among the "distinguished company."

I was near forgetting that I want you to get Father John to have my little book read by the children in our National School; for, as K. I. is the patron, we have, of course, the right. At all events I'll withdraw if they refuse; and they can't accuse me of illiberality or bigotry, for I never said a word against the taking away the Bible. Let them just remember that!

Lord Guzeberry is just going, so that I have only time to seal, and sign myself as ever yours,

Jemima Dodd.

I send you two dozen of the tracts to distribute among our friends. The one bound in red silk is for Dean O'Dowd, "with the author's devotions and duties."

LETTER XX. BETTY COBB TO MISTRESS SHUSAN O'SHEA

Mount Orsaro

My dear Shusan, – It's five months and two days since I wrote to you last, and it 's like five years in regard to the way time has worn and distressed me. The mistress tould Mrs. Gallagher how I was deserted by that deceatfull blaguard, taking off with him my peace of mind, two petticoats, and a blue cloth cloak, that I thought would last me for life! so that I need n't go over my miseries again to yourself. We heard since that he had another wife in Switzerland, not to say two more wandering about, so that the master says, if we ever meet him, we can hang him for "bigotry." And, to tell you the truth, Shusy, I feel as if it would be a great relief to me to do it! if it was only to save other craytures from the same feat that he did to your poor friend Betty Cobb; besides that, until something of the kind is done, I can't enter the holy state again with any other deceaver.

Such a life as we 're leadin', Shusy, at one minute all eatin' and drinkin' and caressin' from morning till night; at another, my dear, it's all fastin' and mortification, for the mistress has no moderation at all; but, as the master says, she 's always in her extremities! If ye seen the dress of her last week, she was Satan from head to foot, and now she 's, by way of a saint, in white Cashmar, with a little scurge at her waist, and hard pegs in her shoes!

We have nothin' to eat but roots, like the beasts of the field; and them, too, mostly raw! That's to make us good soldiers of the Church, Father James says; but in my heart and soul, Shusy, I 'm sick of the regiment. Shure, when we 've a station in Ireland, it only lasts a day or two at most; and if your knees is sore with the pennance, shure you have the satisfaction of the pleasant evenings after; with, maybe, a dance, or, at all events, tellin' stories over a jug of punch; but here it's prayers and stripes, stripes and offices, starvation and more stripes, till, savin' your presence, I never sit down without a screech!

Why we came here I don't know; the mistress says it was to cure the master; but did n't I hear her tell him a thousand times that the bad drop was in him, and he 'd never be better to his dyin' day? so that it can't be for that. Sometimes I think it's to get Mary Anne married, and they want Saint Agatha to help them; but faith, Shusy, one sinner is worth two saints for the like of that. Lord George tould me in confidence – the other day it was – that the mistress wanted an increase to her family. Faith, you may well open your eyes, my dear, but them 's his words! And tho' I did n't believe him at first, I 'm more persuaded of it now, that I see how she's goin' on.

If the master only suspected it, he 'd be off to-morrow, for he 's always groanin' and moanin' over the expense of the family; and, between you and me, I believe I ought to go and tell him. Maybe you 'd give me advice what to do, for it's a nice point.

You would n't know Paddy Byrne, how much he's grown, and the wonderful whiskers he has all over his face; but he 's as bowld as brass, and has the impedince of the divil in him. He never ceases tormentin' me about Taddy, and says I ought to take out a few florins in curses on him, just as if I could n't do it cheaper myself than payin' a priest for it As for Paddy himself, – do what the mistress will, – she can get no good of him, in regard to his duties. He does all his stations on his knees, to be sure, but with a cigar in his mouth; and when he comes to the holy well, it's a pull at a dram bottle he takes instead of the blessed water. I wondered myself at his givin' a crown-piece to the Virgin on Tuesday last, but he soon showed me what he was at by say in', "If she does n't get my wages riz for that, the divil receave the f arthin' she 'll ever receave of mine again!"

After all, Shusy, it 's an elegant sight to see all them great people that thinks so much of themselves, crawling about on their hands and knees, kissin' a relict here, huggin' a stone there, just as much frightened about the way the saint looks at them as one of us! It does one's heart good to know that, for all their fine livin' and fine clothes, ould Nick has the same hould of them that he has of you and me!

I had a great deal to tell you about the family and their goin's on, but I must conclude in haste, for tho' it's only five o'clock, there's the bell ringing for martins, and I have a station to take before first mass. I suppose it's part of my mortifications, but the mistress and Mary Anne never gives me a stitch of clothes till they're spoiled; and I'm drivin to my wits' end, tearin' and destroyin' things in such a way as not to ruin them when they come to me! Miss Caroline never has a gown much better than my own; and, indeed, she said the other day, "When I want to be smart, Betty, you must lend me your black bombaseen."

There's the mistress gone out already, so no more from

Your sincear friend,

Betty Cobb.

I think Lord G. is right about the mistress. The saints forgive her, at her time of life! More in my next.

LETTER XXI. JAMES DODD TO ROBERT DOOLAN, ESQ. TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN

The Inn, Orsaro

My dear Bob, – This must be a very brief epistle, since, amongst other reasons, the sheet of letter-paper costs me a florin, and I shall have to pay three more for a messenger to convey it to the post-town, a distance of as many miles off. To explain these scarce credible facts, I must tell you that we are at a little village called Orsaro, in the midst of a wild mountain country, whither we have come to perform penances, say prayers, and enact other devotions at the shrine of a certain St. Agatha, who, some time last autumn, took to working miracles down here, and consequently attracting all the faithful who had nothing to do with themselves before Carnival.

My excellent mother it was who, in an access of devotion, devised the excursion; and the governor, hearing that the locality was a barbarous one, and the regimen a strict fast, fancied, of course, it would be a most economical dodge, at once agreed; but, by Jove! the saving is a delusion and a snare. Two miserable rooms, dirty and ill furnished, cost forty francs a day; bad coffee and black bread, for breakfast, are supplied at four francs a head; dinner – if by such a name one would designate a starved kid stewed in garlic, or a boiled hedgehog with chiccory sauce, – ten francs each; sour wine at the price of Château Lafitte; and a seat in the sanctuary, to see the Virgin, four times as dear as a stall at the Italian Opera. Exorbitant as all these charges are, we are gravely assured that they will be doubled whenever the Virgin sneezes again, that being the manifestation, as they call it, by which she displays her satisfaction at our presence here. I do not fancy talking irreverently of these things, Bob, but I own to you I am ineffably shocked at the gross impositions innkeepers, postmasters, donkey-owners, and others practise by trading on the devotional feelings and pious aspirations of weak but worthy people. I say nothing of the priests themselves; they may or may not believe all these miraculous occurrences. One thing, however, is clear: they make every opportunity of judging of them so costly that only a rich man can afford himself the luxury, so that you and I, and a hundred others like us, may either succumb or scoff, as we please, without any means of correcting our convictions. One inevitable result ensues from this. There are two camps: the Faithful, who believe everything, and are cheated by every imaginable device of mock relics and made-up miracles; and the Unbelieving, who actually rush into ostentatious vice, to show their dislike to hypocrisy! Thus, this little dirty village, swarming with priests, and resounding with the tramp of processions, is a den of every kind of dissipation. The rattle of the dice-box mingles with the nasal chantings of the tonsured monks, and the wild orgies of a drinking party blend with the strains of the organ! If men be not religiously minded, the contact with the Church seems to make demons of them. How otherwise interpret the scoff and mockery that unceasingly go forward against priests and priestcraft in a little community, as it were, separated for acts of piety and devotion?

That we live in a most believing age is palpable, by the fact that this place swarms with men distinguished in every court and camp in Europe. Crafty ministers, artful diplomatists, keen old generals, versed in every wile and stratagem, come here as it were to divest themselves of all their long-practised acuteness, and give in their adhesion to the most astounding and incoherent revelations. I cannot bring myself to suppose these men rogues and hypocrites, and yet I have nearly as much difficulty to believe them dupes! What have become of those sharp perceptive powers, that clever insight into motives, and the almost unerring judgment they could exhibit in any question of politics or war? It cannot surely be that they who have measured themselves with the first capacities of the world dread to enter the lists against some half-informed and narrow-minded village curate; or is it that there lurks in every human heart some one spot, a refuge as it were for credulity, which even the craftiest cannot exclude? You are far better suited than I to canvass such a question, my dear Bob. I only throw it out for your consideration, without any pretension to solve it myself.

My father, you are well aware, is too good a Churchman to suffer a syllable to escape his lips which might be construed into discredit of the faith; but I can plainly see that he skulks his penances, and shifts off any observance that does not harmonize with his comfort. At the same time he strongly insists that the fastings and other privations enjoined are an admirable system to counteract the effect of that voluptuous life practised in almost every capital of Europe. As he shrewdly remarked, "This place was like Groeffenberg, – you might not be restored by the water-cure, but you were sure to be benefited by early hours, healthful exercise, and a light diet." This, you may perceive, is a very modified approval of the miracles.

I have dwelt so long on this theme that I have only left myself what Mary Anne calls the selvage of my paper, for anything else. Nor is it pleasant to me, Bob, to tell you that I am low-spirited and down-hearted. A month ago, life was opening before me with every prospect of happiness and enjoyment. A lovely creature, gifted and graceful, of the very highest rank and fortune, was to have been mine. She was actually domesticated with us, and only waiting for the day which should unite our destinies forever, when one night – I can scarcely go on – I know not how either to convey to you what is half shrouded in mystery, and should be perhaps all concealed in shame; but somehow my father contrived to talk so of our family affairs – our debts, our difficulties, and what not – that Josephine overheard everything, and shocked possibly more at our duplicity than at our narrow fortune, she hurried away at midnight, leaving a few cold lines of farewell behind her, and has never been seen or heard of since.

I set out after her to Milan; thence to Bologna, where I thought I had traces of her. From that I went to Rimini, and on a false scent down to Ancona. I got into a slight row there with the police, and was obliged to retrace my steps, and arrived at Parma, after three weeks' incessant travelling, heart-broken and defeated.

That I shall ever rally, – that I shall ever take any real interest in life again, is totally out of the question. Such an opportunity of fortune as this rarely occurs to any one once in life; none are lucky enough to meet it a second time. The governor, too, instead of feeling, as he ought, that he has been the cause of my ruin, continues to pester me about the indolent way I spend my life, and inveighs against even the little dissipations that I endeavor to drown my sorrows by indulging in. It 's all very well to talk about active employment, useful pursuits, and so forth; but a man ought to have his mind at ease, and his heart free from care, for all these, as I told the governor yesterday. When a fellow has got such a "stunner" as I have had lately, London porter and a weed are his only solace. Even Tiverton's society is distasteful, he has such a confoundedly flippant way of treating one.

I 'm thinking seriously of emigrating, and wish you could give me any useful hints on the subject. Tiverton knows a fellow out there, who was in the same regiment with himself, – a baronet, I believe, – and he's doing a capital stroke of work with a light four-in-hand team that he drives, I think, between San Francisco and Geelong, but don't trust me too far in the geography; he takes the diggers at eight pounds a head, and extra for the "swag." Now that is precisely the thing to suit me; I can tool a coach as well as most fellows: and as long as one keeps on the box they don't feel it like coming down in the world!

I half suspect Tiverton would come out too. At least, he seems very sick of England, as everybody must be that has n't ten thousand a year and a good house in Belgravia.

I don't know whither we go from this, and, except in the hope of hearing from you, I could almost add, care as little. The governor has got so much better from the good air and the regimen, that he is now anxious to be off; while my mother, attributing his recovery to the saint's interference, wants another "Novena." Mary Anne likes the place too; and Cary, who sketches all day long, seems to enjoy it.

How the decision is to come is therefore not easy to foresee. Meanwhile, whether here or there,

Believe me your attached friend,

James Dodd.

I open this to say that we are "booked" for another fortnight here. My mother went to consult the Virgin about going away last night, and she – that is, the saint – gave such a sneeze that my mother fainted, and was carried home insensible. The worst of all this is that Father Giacomo – our guide in spirituals – insists on my mother's publishing a little tract on her experiences; and the women are now hard at work with pen and ink at a small volume to be called "St. Agatha of Orsaro," by Jemima D – . They have offered half a florin apiece for good miracles, but they are pouring in so fast they 'll have to reduce the tariff. Tiverton recommends them to ask thirteen to the dozen.

The governor is furious at this authorship, which will cost some five-and-twenty pounds at the least!

LETTER XXII. MRS. DODD TO MRS. MARY GALLAGHER

Hôtel Feder, Genoa

My dear Molly, – It's little that piety and holy living assists us in this wicked world, as you 'll allow, when I tell you that after all my penances, my mortifications, and my self-abstainings, instead of enjoyment and pleasure, as I might reasonably look for in this place, I never knew real misery and shame till I came here. I would n't believe anybody that said people was always as bad as they are now! Sure, if they were, why would n't we be prepared for their baseness and iniquity? Why would we be deceived and cheated at every hand's turn? It's all balderdash to pretend it, Molly. The world must be coming to an end, for this plain reason, that it's morally impossible it can be more corrupt, more false, and more vicious than it is.

I 'm trying these three days to open my heart to you. I 've taken ether, and salts, and neumonia – I think the man called it – by the spoonfuls, just to steady my nerves, and give me strength to tell you my afflictions; and now I 'll just begin, and if my tears does n't blot out the ink, I 'll reveal my sorrows, and open my breast before you.

We left that blessed village of Orsaro two days after I wrote to you by the Earl of Guzeberry, and came on here, by easy stages, as we were obliged to ride mules for more than half the way. Our journey was, of course, fatiguing, but unattended by any other inconvenience than K. I.'s usual temper about the food, the beds, and the hotel charges as we came along. He would n't fast, nor do a single penance on the road; nor would he join in chanting a Litany with Father James, but threatened to sing "Nora Chrina," if we did n't stop. And though Lord George was greatly shocked, James was just as bad as his father. Father Giacomo kept whispering to me from time to time, "We 'll come to grief for this. We 'll have to pay for all this impiety, Mrs. D.;" till at last he got my nerves in such a state that I thought we 'd be swept away at every blast of wind from the mountains, or carried down by every torrent that crossed the road. I couldn't pass a bridge without screeching; and as to fording a stream, it was an attack of hysterics. These, of course, delayed us greatly, and it was a good day when we got over eight miles. For all that, the girls seemed to like it. Cary had her sketch-book always open; and Mary Anne used to go fishing with Lord G. and James, and contrived, as she said, to make the time pass pleasantly enough.

I saw very little of K. I., for I was always at some devotional exercise; and, indeed, I was right glad of it, for his chief amusement was getting Father James into an argument, and teasing and insulting him so that I only wondered why he did n't leave us at once and forever. He never ceased, too, gibing and jeering about the miracles of Orsaro; and one night, when he had got quite beyond all bounds, laughing at Father G., he told him, "Faith," says he, "you 're the most credulous man ever I met in my life; for it seems to me that you can believe anything but the Christian religion."

From that moment Father G. only shook his hands at him, and would n't discourse.