into literature, for in his preface he says: "Better and more important
things henceforth demand my attention, and I here, with no small
pleasure, take leave of Shakespeare and the critics: as this work was
begun and finish'd before I enter'd upon the sacred function in which I
am now happily employ'd."
Dodd had already been ordained deacon and settled down as a curate in
West Ham in Essex, where he did not spare himself in the dull round of
parochial drudgery. So passed two years which, looking back on them from
within the portals of Newgate Prison, he declared to have been the
happiest of his life. But he soon tired of the country, his yearning for
city life was not to be resisted, and securing a lectureship at St.
Olave's, Hart Street, he returned to London and relapsed into
literature.
A loose novel, "The Sisters," is credited to him. Whether he wrote it or
not is a question, but he may well have done so, for some of its pages
seem to have inspired his sermons. Under cover of being a warning to the
youth of both sexes, he deals with London life in a manner which would
have put the author of "Peregrine Pickle" to shame; but as nobody's
virtue was over-nice, nobody seemed to think it particularly strange
that a clergyman should have written such a book. In many respects he
reminds us of his more gifted rival, Laurence Sterne.
Dodd's great chance came in 1758, when a certain Mr. Hingley and some of
his friends got together three thousand pounds and established an asylum
for Magdalens, presumably penitent. The scheme was got under way after
the usual difficulties; and as, in the City, the best way to arouse
public interest is by a dinner, so in the West End a sermon may be made
to serve the same purpose. Sterne had talked a hundred and sixty pounds
out of the pockets of his hearers for the recently established Foundling
Hospital; Dodd, when selected to preach the inaugural sermon at Magdalen
House, got ten times as much. Who had the greater talent? Dodd was
content that the question should be put. The charity became immensely
popular. "Her Majesty" subscribed three hundred pounds, and the cream of
England's nobility, feeling a personal interest in such an institution,
and perhaps a personal responsibility for the urgent need of it, made
large contributions. The success of the venture was assured.
Dodd was made Chaplain. At first this was an honorary position, but
subsequently a small stipend was attached to it. The post was much to
his liking, and it became as fashionable to go to hear Dodd and see the
penitent magdalens on Sunday, as to go to Ranelagh and Vauxhall with,
and to see, impenitent magdalens during the week. Services at Magdalen
House were always crowded: royalty attended; everybody went.
Sensational and melodramatic, Dodd drew vivid pictures of the life from
which the women and young girls had been rescued: the penitents on
exhibition and the impenitents in the congregation, alike, were moved to
tears. Frequently a woman swooned, as was the fashion in those days, and
her stays had to be cut; or someone went into hysterics and had to be
carried screaming from the room. Dodd must have felt that he had made no
mistake in his calling. Horace Walpole says that he preached very
eloquently in the French style; but it can hardly have been in the style
of Bossuet, I should say. The general wantonness of his subject he
covered by a veneer of decency; but we can guess what his sermons were
like, without reading them, from our knowledge of the man and the texts
he chose. "These things I command you, that ye love one another," packed
the house; but his greatest effort was inspired by the text, "Whosoever
looketh on a woman." It does not require much imagination to see what he
would make out of that!
But for all his immense popularity Dodd was getting very little money.
His small living in the country and his hundred guineas or so from the
Magdalen did not suffice for his needs. He ran into debt, but he had
confidence in himself and his ambition was boundless; he even thought of
a bishopric. Why not? It was no new way to pay old debts. Influence in
high places was his; but first he must secure a doctor's degree. This
was not difficult. Cambridge, if not exactly proud of him, could not
deny him, and Dodd got his degree. The King was appealed to, and he was
appointed a Royal Chaplain. It was a stepping-stone to something better,
and Dodd, always industrious, now worked harder than ever. He wrote and
published incessantly: translations, sermons, addresses, poems, odes,
and elegies on anybody and everything: more than fifty titles are
credited to him in the British Museum catalogue.
And above all things, Dodd was in demand at a "city dinner." His
blessings--he was always called upon to say grace--were carefully
regulated according to the scale of the function. A brief "Bless, O
Lord, we pray thee" sufficed for a simple dinner; but when the table was
weighted down, as it usually was, with solid silver, and the glasses
suggested the variety and number of wines which were to follow one
another in orderly procession until most of the company got drunk and
were carried home and put to bed, then Dodd rose to the occasion, and
addressed a sonorous appeal which began, "Bountiful Jehovah, who has
caused to groan this table with the abundant evidences of thy goodness."
The old-line clergy looked askance at all these doings. Bishops, secure
in their enjoyment of princely incomes, and priests of lesser degree
with incomes scarcely less princely, regarded Dodd with suspicion. Why
did he not get a good living somewhere, from someone; hire a poor wretch
to mumble a few prayers to half-empty benches on a Sunday while he
collected the tithes? Why this zeal? When a substantial banker hears of
an upstart guaranteeing ten per cent interest, he awaits the inevitable
crash, certain that, the longer it is postponed, the greater the crash
will be. In the same light the well-beneficed clergyman regarded Dodd.
Dodd himself longed for tithes; but as they were delayed in coming, he,
in the meantime, decided to turn his reputation for scholarship to
account, and accordingly let it be known that he would board and
suitably instruct a limited number of young men; in other words, he fell
back upon the time-honored custom of taking pupils. He secured a country
house at Ealing and soon had among his charges one Philip Stanhope, a
lad of eleven years, heir of the great Earl of Chesterfield, who was so
interested in the worldly success of his illegitimate son, to whom his
famous letters were addressed, that he apparently gave himself little
concern as to the character of instruction that his lawful son received.
Dodd's pupils must have brought a substantial increase of his small
income, which was also suddenly augmented in another way. About the time
he began to take pupils, a lady to whom his wife had been a sort of
companion died and left her, quite unexpectedly, fifteen hundred pounds.
Nor did her good fortune end there. As she was attending an auction one
day, a cabinet was put up for sale, and Mrs. Dodd bid upon it, until,
observing a lady who seemed anxious to obtain it, she stopped bidding,
and it became the property of the lady, who in return gave her a
lottery ticket, which drew a prize of a thousand pounds for Mrs. Dodd.
With these windfalls at his disposal, Dodd embarked upon a speculation
quite in keeping with his tastes and abilities. He secured a plot of
ground not far from the royal palace, and built upon it a chapel of ease
which he called Charlotte Chapel, in honor of the Queen. Four pews were
set aside for the royal household, and he soon had a large and
fashionable congregation. His sermons were in the same florid vein which
had brought him popularity, and from this venture he was soon in receipt
of at least six hundred pounds a year. With his increased income his
style of living became riotous. He dined at expensive taverns, set up a
coach, and kept a mistress, and even tried to force himself into the
great literary club which numbered among its members some of the most
distinguished men of the day; but this was not permitted.
For years Dodd led, not a double, but a triple life. He went through the
motions of teaching his pupils. He preached, in his own chapels and
elsewhere, sermons on popular subjects, and at the same time managed to
live the life of a fashionable man about town. No one respected him, but
he had a large following and he contrived every day to get deeper into
debt.
It is a constant source of bewilderment to those of us who are obliged
to pay our bills with decent regularity, how, in England, it seems to
have been so easy to live on year after year, paying apparently nothing
to anyone, and resenting the appearance of a bill-collector as an
impertinence. When Goldsmith died, he owed a sum which caused Dr.
Johnson to exclaim, "Was ever poet so trusted before?" and Goldsmith's
debts were trifling in comparison with Dodd's. But, at the moment when
matters were becoming really serious, a fashionable living--St.
George's--fell vacant, and Dodd felt that if he could but secure it his
troubles would be over.
The parish church of St. George's, Hanover Square, was one of the best
known in London. It was in the centre of fashion, and then, as now,
enjoyed almost a monopoly of smart weddings. Its rector had just been
made a bishop. Dodd looked upon it with longing eyes. What a plum! It
seemed beyond his reach, but nothing venture, nothing have. On
investigation Dodd discovered that the living was worth fifteen hundred
pounds a year and that it was in the gift of the Lord Chancellor. The
old adage, "Give thy present to the clerk, not to the judge," must have
come into his mind; for, not long after, the wife of the Chancellor
received an anonymous letter offering three thousand pounds down and an
annuity of five hundred a year if she would successfully use her
influence with her husband to secure the living for a clergyman of
distinction who should be named later. The lady very properly handed the
letter to her husband, who at once set inquiries on foot. The matter was
soon traced to Dodd, who promptly put the blame on his wife, saying that
he had not been aware of the officious zeal of his consort.
The scandal became public, and Dodd thought it best to go abroad. His
name was removed from the list of the King's chaplains. No care was
taken to disguise references to him in the public prints. Libel laws in
England seem to have been circumvented by the use of asterisks for
letters: thus, Laurence Sterne would be referred to as "the Rev. L.
S*****," coupled with some damaging statement; but in Dodd's case
precaution of this sort was thought unnecessary. He was bitterly
attacked and mercilessly ridiculed. Even Goldsmith takes a fling at him
in "Retaliation," which appeared about this time. It remained, however,
for Foote, the comedian, to hold him up to public scorn in one of his
Haymarket farces, in which the parson and his wife were introduced as
Dr. and Mrs. Simony. The satire was very coarse; but stomachs were
strong in those good old days, and the whole town roared at the humor of
the thing, which was admitted to be a great success.
On Dodd's return to London his fortunes were at a very low ebb indeed. A
contemporary account says that, although almost overwhelmed with debt,
his extravagance continued undiminished until, at last, "he descended so
low as to become the editor of a newspaper." My editorial friends will
note well the depth of his infamy.
After a time the scandal blew over, as scandal will when the public
appetite has been appeased, and Dodd began to preach again: a
sensational preacher will always have followers. Someone presented him
to a small living in Buckinghamshire, from which he had a small addition
to his income; but otherwise he was almost neglected.
At last he was obliged to sell his interest in his chapel venture, which
he "unloaded," as we should say to-day, on a fellow divine by misstating
its value as a going concern, so that the purchaser was ruined by his
bargain. But he continued to preach with great pathos and effect, when
suddenly the announcement was made that the great preacher, Dr. Dodd,
the Macaroni Parson, had been arrested on a charge of forgery; that he
was already in the Compter; that he had admitted his guilt, and that he
would doubtless be hanged.
The details of the affair were soon public property. It appears that, at
last overwhelmed with debt, Dodd had forged the name of his former
pupil, now the Earl of Chesterfield, to a bond for forty-two hundred
pounds. The bond had been negotiated and the money paid when the fraud
was discovered. A warrant for his arrest was at once made out, and Dodd
was taken before Justice Hawkins (Johnson's first biographer), who sat
as a committing magistrate, and held him for formal trial at the Old
Bailey. Meanwhile all but four hundred pounds of the money had been
returned; for a time it seemed as if this small sum could be raised and
the affair dropped. This certainly was Dodd's hope; but the law had been
set in motion, and justice, rather than mercy, was allowed to take its
course. The crime had been committed early in February. At the trial a
few weeks later, the Earl of Chesterfield, disregarding Dodd's plea,
appeared against him, and he was sentenced to death; but some legal
point had been raised in his favor, and it was several months before the
question was finally decided adversely to him.
Dodd was now in Newgate Prison. There he was indulged in every way,
according to the good old custom of the time. He was plentifully
supplied with money, and could secure whatever money would buy. Friends
were admitted to see him at all hours, and he occupied what leisure he
had with correspondence, and wrote a long poem, "Thoughts in Prison," in
five parts. He also projected a play and several other literary
ventures.
Meanwhile a mighty effort was set on foot to secure a pardon. Dr.
Johnson was appealed to, and while he entertained no doubts as to the
wisdom of capital punishment for fraud, forgery, or theft, the thought
of a minister of the Church of England being publicly haled through the
streets of London to Tyburn and being there hanged seemed horrible to
him, and he promised to do his best. He was as good as his word. With
his ready pen he wrote a number of letters and petitions which were
conveyed to Dodd, and which, subsequently copied by him, were presented
to the King, the Lord Chancellor, to any one, in fact, who might have
influence and be ready to use it. He even went so far as to write a
letter which, when transcribed by Mrs. Dodd, was presented to the Queen.
One petition, drawn by Johnson, was signed by twenty-three thousand
people; but the King--under the influence of Lord Mansfield, it is
said--declined to interest himself.
[Illustration: FACSIMILE OF THE FIRST PAGE OF DR. JOHNSON'S PETITION TO
THE KING ON BEHALF OF DR. DODD]
And this brings me to a point where I must explain my peculiar interest
in this thoroughgoing scoundrel. I happen to own a volume of manuscript
letters written by Dodd, from Newgate Prison, to a man named Edmund
Allen; and as not every reader of Boswell can be expected to remember
who Edmund Allen was, I may say that he was Dr. Johnson's neighbor and
landlord in Bolt Court, a printer by trade and an intimate friend of the
Doctor. It was Allen who gave the dinner to Johnson and Boswell which
caused the old man to remark, "Sir, we could not have had a better
dinner had there been a Synod of Cooks." The Dodd letters to Allen,
however, are only a part of the contents of the volume. It contains also
a great number of Johnson's letters to Dodd, and the original drafts of
the petitions which he drew up in his efforts to secure mitigation of
Dodd's punishment. The whole collection came into my possession many
years ago, and has afforded me a subject of investigation on many a
winter's evening when I might otherwise have occupied myself with
solitaire, did I happen to know one card from another.
Allen appears to have been an acquaintance of Dodd's, and, I judge from
the letters before me, called on Johnson with a letter from a certain
Lady Harrington, who for some reason which does not appear, was greatly
interested in Dodd's fate. Boswell records that Johnson was much
agitated at the interview, walking up and down his chamber saying, "I
will do what I can." Dodd was personally unknown to Johnson and had only
once been in his presence; and while an elaborate correspondence was
being carried on between them, Johnson declined to go to see the
prisoner, and for some reason wished that his name should not be drawn
into the affair; but he did not relax his efforts. Allen was the
go-between in all that passed between the two men. In the volume before
me, in all of Dodd's letters to Allen, Johnson's name has been carefully
blotted out, and Johnson's letters intended for Dodd are not addressed
to him, but bear the inscription, "This may be communicated to Dr.
Dodd." Dodd's letters to Johnson were delivered to him by Allen and were
probably destroyed, Allen having first made the copies which are now in
my possession. Most of Dodd's letters to Allen appear to have been
preserved, and Johnson's letters to Dodd, together with the drafts of
his petitions, were carefully preserved by Allen, Dodd being supplied
with unsigned copies. Allen in this way carried out Johnson's
instructions to "tell nobody."
Dodd's letters seem for the most part to have been written at night. The
correspondence began early in May, and his last letter was dated June
26, a few hours before he died. None of Dodd's letters seem to have been
published, and Johnson's, although of supreme interest, do not appear to
have been known in their entirety either to Hawkins, Boswell, or
Boswell's greatest editor, Birkbeck Hill. The petitions, so far as they
have been published, seem to have been printed from imperfect copies of
the original drafts. Boswell relates that Johnson had told him he had
written a petition from the City of London, but they _mended_ it. In the
original draft there are a few _repairs_, but they are in Dr. Johnson's
own hand. The petition to the King evidently did not require mending, as
the published copies are almost identical with the original.
In the petition which he wrote for Mrs. Dodd to copy and present to the
Queen, Johnson, not knowing all the facts, left blank spaces in the
original draft for Mrs. Dodd to fill when making her copy; thus the
original draft reads:--
TO THE QUEEN'S MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY
MADAM:--
It is most humbly represented by ---- Dodd, the Wife of Dr. William
Dodd, now lying in prison under Sentence of death.
That she has been the Wife of this unhappy Man for more
than--years, and has lived with him in the greatest happiness of
conjugal union, and the highest state of conjugal confidence.
That she has been therefore for--years a constant Witness of his
unwearied endeavors for publick good and his laborious attendance
on charitable institutions. Many are the Families whom his care has
relieved from want; many are the hearts which he has freed from
pain, and the Faces which he has cleared from sorrow.
That therefore she most humbly throws herself at the feet of the
Queen, earnestly entreating that the petition of a distressed Wife
asking mercy for a husband may be considered as naturally exciting
the compassion of her Majesty, and that when her Wisdom has
compared the offender's good actions with his crime, she will be
graciously pleased to represent his case in such terms to our most
gracious Sovereign, as may dispose him to mitigate the rigours of
the law.
The case of the unfortunate Dr. Dodd was by now the talk of the town. If
agitation and discussion and letters and positions could have saved him,
saved he would have been, for all London was in an uproar, and efforts
of every kind on his behalf were set in motion. He can hardly have been
blamed for feeling sure that they would never hang him. Johnson was not
so certain, and warned him against over-confidence.
Rather curiously, merchants, "city people," who, one might suppose,
would be inclined to regard the crime of forgery with severity, were
disposed to think that Dodd's sufferings in Newgate were sufficient
punishment for any crime he had committed. After all, it was said, the
money, most of it, had been returned; so they signed a monster petition;
twenty-three thousand names were secured without difficulty. But the
West End was rather indifferent, and Dr. Johnson finally came to the
conclusion that, while no effort should be relaxed (in a letter to Mr.
Allen he says, "Nothing can do harm, let everything be tried"), it was
time for Dodd to prepare himself for his fate. He thereupon wrote the
following letter, which we may suppose Allen either transcribed or read
to the unfortunate prisoner:--
SIR:--
You know that my attention to Dr. Dodd has incited me to enquire
what is the real purpose of Government; the dreadful answer I have
put into your hands.
Nothing now remains but that he whose profession it has been to
teach others to dye, learn how to dye himself.
It will be wise to deny admission from this time to all who do not
come to assist his preparation, to addict himself wholly to prayer
and meditation, and consider himself as no longer connected with
the world. He has now nothing to do for the short time that
remains, but to reconcile himself to God. To this end it will be
proper to abstain totally from all strong liquors, and from all
other sensual indulgences, that his thoughts may be as clear and
calm as his condition can allow.
If his Remissions of anguish, and intervals of Devotion leave him
any time, he may perhaps spend it profitably in writing the history
of his own depravation, and marking the gradual declination from
innocence and quiet to that state in which the law has found him.
Of his advice to the Clergy, or admonitions to Fathers of families,
there is no need; he will leave behind him those who can write
them. But the history of his own mind, if not written by himself,
cannot be written, and the instruction that might be derived from
it must be lost. This therefore he must leave if he leaves
anything; but whether he can find leisure, or obtain tranquillity
sufficient for this, I cannot judge. Let him however shut his doors
against all hope, all trifles and all sensuality. Let him endeavor
to calm his thoughts by abstinence, and look out for a proper
director in his penitence, and May God, who would that all men
shall be saved, help him with his Holy Spirit, and have mercy on
him for Jesus Christ's Sake.
I am, Sir,
Your most humble Servant,
SAM JOHNSON.
_June 17, 1777._
Then, in response to a piteous appeal, Johnson wrote a brief letter for
Dodd to send to the King, begging him at least to save him from the
horror and ignominy of a public execution; and this was accompanied by a
brief note.
SIR:--
I most seriously enjoin you not to let it be at all known that I
have written this letter, and to return the copy to Mr. Allen in a
cover to me. I hope I need not tell you that I wish it success, but
I do not indulge hope.
SAM JOHNSON.
As the time for Dodd's execution drew near, he wrote a final letter to
Johnson, which, on its delivery, must have moved the old man to tears.
It was written at midnight on the 25th of June, 1777.
Accept, thou great and good heart, my earnest and fervent thanks
and prayers for all thy benevolent and kind efforts in my behalf.
Oh! Dr. Johnson! as I sought your knowledge at an early hour in
life, would to heaven I had cultivated the love and acquaintance of
so excellent a man! I pray God most sincerely to bless you with the
highest transports--the infelt satisfaction of humane and
benevolent exertions! And admitted, as I trust I shall be, to the
realms of bliss before you, I shall hail your arrival there with
transports, and rejoice to acknowledge that you were my Comforter,
my Advocate and my Friend! God be ever with you!
[Illustration: MR. ALLEN'S COPY OF THE LAST LETTER DR. DODD SENT DR.
JOHNSON. DODD WAS HANGED ON JUNE 27, 1777]