My dearest Kitty,--It _was_ our names you saw in the "Morning Post"!
We are "The Dodd M'Carthys." It was no use deferring the decision for
papa's return; and, as I observed to mamma, circumstances are often
stronger than ourselves; for, in all likelihood, Louis Napoleon would
not have declared the Empire so soon if it were not for the "Rouges,"
or the Orléaniste, or the others. Events, in fact, pressed us from
behind,--go forward we must; and so, like the distinguished authority
I have mentioned, we accepted greatness, in the shape of our present
designation.
We took the great step on Monday evening last, and issued one hundred
and thirty-eight cards for our Wednesday at home, as Madame Dodd
M'Carthy. Of course, I conclude the new title was amply discussed
and criticised; but, as James remarked, the _coup d'état_ succeeded
perfectly. He sent me three different bulletins during the day from
"the Rooms," where he was engaged at play. The first was briefly:
"Great excitement, and much curiosity as to the reasons. Causes
assigned,--vague, various, and contradictory. Strict silence on my part"
The second ran: "Funds rising rapidly,--confidence restored." The third
was: "Victory--opposition crushed, annihilated--dynasty secure. Send a
card at once to the Crown Prince of Dalmatia, at the 'Lion.' He is just
come."
Mamma's nervous tremors during this eventful day were dreadful. Nothing
sustained her but a high consciousness, and some excellent curacoa.
Every cry in the street, every chance commotion, the slightest
assemblage, beneath our windows, she took for popular demonstrations.
You know, my dearest Kitty, we live in really eventful times, and
nobody can answer for how the mere populace will receive any attempts
to recover ancient feudal privileges. I own to you, frankly, the attempt
was a bold one. We, so to say, stemmed the foamy torrent of Democracy at
its highest flood; but the moment was also propitious. Now or never was
the time for nobility to raise its head again; and _we_, I am proud to
say, have given the initiative to astonished Europe.
From the hour that we took the great step, Kitty, I felt my heart rise
with the occasion. My spirit seemed to say, "Swell to the magnitude of
those grand proportions around you;" and I really felt myself, as it
were, disenthralled from the narrow limits of a mere Dodd, and expanding
to the wide realms of a M'Carthy! If you only knew the sufferings
and heart-burnings that plebeian appellation has cost us! The hateful
monosyllable seemed to drop down like a shell in the midst of a company;
and often has it needed a fortnight's dinners and evening parties, in a
new place, to overcome the horrid impression caused by the name of Dodd!
Now, as it stands at present, it serves to give vigor and energy to
the name. Dodd M'Carthy is like Gorman O'Moore, Grogan O' Dwyer, or any
other of the patronymics of ancient Ireland.
From the deep interest caused by this decisive step, I was obliged at
once to turn to the details of our great reception to be held on
the Wednesday following, for it was necessary that in splendor and
distinction it should eclipse all that had preceded it. Happily for us,
dearest Caroline was absent as well as papa; she had gone to spend a
week with a tiresome old lady some miles away, and we were therefore
relieved from the annoyance of that vexatious restraint imposed by the
mere presence of those whose thoughts and ideas are never yours. I have
already told you that she has taken up a completely mistaken line, and
utterly destroyed any natural advantages she possessed. I told her so
myself over and over; I reasoned and argued the question deliberately.
"I see," said I, "your tastes are not those of high and fashionable
society. You do not feel the instinctive fascination that comes of being
admired by the distinguished classes. Your ambitions do not soar to
those aristocratic regions whose atmosphere breathes of royalty. Be
it so; there is another path open to you,--the sentimental and the
romantic. Your hair suits it, your complexion, your figure, your style
generally, will easily adapt themselves to the character. If not a part
that attracts general admiration, it is one which never fails, in every
society, to secure some favorable notice; and elder sons, educated
either 'at home or in clergymen's families,' are constantly captured by
its fascination." This, I must remark to you, Kitty, is perfectly true,
and it is of great consequence frequently to have a woman that suits shy
men, and saves them the much-dreaded exhibition of themselves by talking
aloud. I told her all this, and I even condescended to use arguments
derived from her own narrow views of life, by showing that it is a style
requiring little expense in the way of dress,--ringlets and a white
muslin "peignoir" of a morning, a broad-leaved straw hat for the
promenade,--something, in short, of the very simplest kind, and no
ornaments. No! my dearest Kitty, it was of no use! She is one of those
self-opinionated girls that reason never appeals to. She coolly replied
to me, that all this would be unreal and unnatural,--"a mere piece
of acting," as she said, and, consequently, unworthy of her, and
unbecoming. I repeat the very words of her reply, to show you the great
benefits she has derived from foreign travel! Why, dearest Kitty, nobody
is real,--nobody pretends to be real abroad; if they were to do so, they
'd be shunned like wild beasts. What is it, I ask, that constitutes the
very essence of high breeding? Conventional usages, forms of expression,
courtesies, attentions, flatteries, and observances,--all stimulated,
all put on, to please and captivate. Reject this theory, and instead
of society, you have a mob; instead of a _salon_, you have a wild-beast
"menagerie." Caroline says she is Irish; she might as well say she was
Cochin-Chinese. Nobody can recognize any trait in that nationality
but its uniform "savagery;" for I must tell you, Kitty, that Ireland
itself--though politically deplored, pitied, and wept over, abroad--is
encumbered by geographical doubts and difficulties like the North-West
Passage. Many suppose it to be a town in the West of England; others
fancy it a barren tract along the coast; and a few, whose sympathies
are more acute for suffering nations, fancy it to be a species of penal
settlement in an unknown latitude.
If Caroline even developed the character--if she had, as the French
say, _créé le rôle_ of an Irish girl, what with eccentricities of dress,
manner, and Moore's melodies, something might be made of it. It admits
of all those extravagances that are occasionally admired, and any
amount of liberty with the male sex. Cary's reading of the part was very
different; it was neither poetic nor pictorial; in fact, it was a
mere vulgar piece of commonplace devotion to home and its tiresome
associations, and a clinging attachment to whatever recalled memories
of our former obscurity,--these "national traits" being eked out with a
most insolent contempt for the foreigner, and a compassionate sorrow for
the patience with which _we_ endured him.
Pardon me, my dearest friend, if I weary you with this unpleasant theme;
but I wish to satisfy your mind that if my sisterly affection be strong,
it still does not tyrannize over my reason, and that increased powers of
judgment, if they elevate the understanding, are frequently exercised at
the cost of our tenderest feelings.
To come back to the point whence I started, "our Wednesday"--and this,
by the way, enables me to answer some of the questions in your last You
ask about my admirers; you shall have the catalogue as lately revised
and corrected, though I scarcely flatter myself that the names will
admit of vocal repetition. First, then, there is the Neapolitan Prince
Sierra d'Aquila Nero, whom I already mentioned to you in one of my
letters from Brussels. In my then innocence of the Continent I thought
him charming, so impassioned, so poetical, and so perfumed. Now, Kitty,
I find him an intolerable old bore; he is upwards of seventy, but
so painted, patched, and plastered as to pass off panoramically for
five-and-forty. He affects all the habits and even the vices of young
men. He keeps saddle-horses that he dare not ride, and hires a "chasse,"
though he never fires a gun; and lastly, issues from his hairdresser's
shop, at intervals, with a wig of shortened proportions, coolly alleging
that he has just had his hair cut! When he drives out of an evening, the
whole Allée reeks of "Bergamot," and the flutter of his handkerchief is
a tornado in the Spice Islands. Need I say that _his_ chance is at zero?
Count Rastuchewitsky, a Russian Pole, comes next,--at least, in order of
seniority; a short, stern-looking man, of about fifty, with a snow-white
beard and moustache, with abrupt manners, and an unpleasant voice. I
believe that he only pays me any attention because he sees the Prince do
so, for he hates all Italians, and tries to thwart them in everything.
The Count's great claim to distinction rests upon his father, or mother,
I forget which, having helped to assassinate the Emperor Paul,--a piece
of chivalry that he dwells on unceasingly.
The Chevalier de Courcelles makes "No. Three," and thirty years ago he
might have been very presentable; but he belongs to a school even older
than his time. He is of the Richelieu order, and seems to be always in
a terrible fright about the effect of his own powers of fascination: his
constant effort being to show you that he really is not fond of
making victims. There is a German Graf von Herren-shausen, a large,
yellow-bearded, blear-eyed monster, with a frogged coat and a huge
pipe-stick projecting from the hind pock et, who kisses my hand whenever
we meet, and leers at me from the whist-table--for, happily, he is past
dancing--like a Ghoul in an Eastern tale. There are a vast number of
others, one or two of whom I reserve for favorable mention hereafter;
but these are the true "prétendants," of which number, I believe, I
might select the one which pleases me best.
Amongst "home productions," as you term them, I may mention the
Honorable Sackville Cavendish,--a thin, pale, white-eyebrowed babe of
diplomacy, that smallest of Foreign Office infants yclept an "unpaid
attaché." He has just emerged from the "nursery" at Downing Street,
and is really not strong enough to go alone. I have supported him in
an occasional polka, and "hustled him," as James called it, through a
waltz, and have in turn received the meed of his admiration as expressed
in the most lacklustre eyes that ever glittered out of a doll's head;
and, lastly, there is Mister Milo Blake O'Dwyer, who formerly--O'Connell
régnante--represented the town of Tralee in Parliament, and who now,
with altered fortunes, performs the duty of Foreign Correspondent to
that great news-paper, "The Sledge Hammer op Freedom."
Perhaps I 'm not strictly correct in enrolling him amongst the number of
my worshippers; with more rigid justice, I believe he belongs to mamma;
at least he's in constant attendance upon her, and continually assures
me, with upturned eyes and a smack of the lip, that she is a "gorgeous
woman," and "wonderfully preserved!" This worthy individual is really
a curiosity; since being in manner, exterior, knowledge, and fortune
totally deficient of all those aids which achieve success in society,
he has actually contrived, by the bare force of impudence, to move with,
and be received by, persons in the very first ranks. Foreigners, I must
tell you, Kitty, conceive the most ridiculous notions of England; one of
the most popular of which is that more than one-half of our government
is carried on by newspaper writing, the minister contributing his
sentiments one day, some individual of the public replying the next.
Now, the illustrious Milo takes every opportunity of propping up this
fallacy, while he represents himself as the very bone and sinew of all
English opinion on the Continent. To believe him, no foreign prince or
potentate could raise a sixpence on loan till he subscribes the scheme.
How many an appropriation of territory have his warnings arrested? From
what cruelties has he saved the Poles? What a crisis did his pen achieve
in the fortunes of Hungary! And then the bushels of diamond snuff-boxes
that he has thrown from him with disgust, the heaps of orders that he
has rejected with proud scorn! As he says himself, "Haven't I more power
than them all? When I send off my article to the 'Sledge,' don't I see
them trembling and shaking for what's coming? Ay, says I to myself,
haughty enough you look to-day, but won't I expose your Majesty, won't I
lay bare the cruelties of your prisons and the infamy of your spies! And
your Eminence, too, how silky you are; but I know you well, and I 've a
copy of the last rescript you sent over to Ireland! Don't be afraid, my
little darling; never mind the puppies that hissed you at Parma, I 'll
make your fortune in London. A word from me to Lumley, and it's as good
as five thousand pounds in the bank!"
It really gives me a great notion of the glut of genius that we possess
in England, when you see a man whose qualifications are great in war
and peace; whose knowledge ranges over the world of politics, religion,
literature, fine arts, and the drama; who knows mankind to perfection,
and understands statecraft to a miracle, with no higher nor prouder
position than that of writing for the "Sledge." It is but fair to own
that he has been of great service to us here. The hardest thing to find
in the world is some person of pushing habits and impudent address,
who will speak of you at all times and in all companies, doing for
you, socially, what, in the world of trade, is accomplished by huge
advertisements and red-lettered placards. Now, one really cannot stick
up on the walls great announcements of "unrivalled attraction," the
"positively last night but one" of Mrs. Dodd's great _soirées_ and so
on, but you can come pretty nigh the same result by a little tact and
management. A few insignificant commissions about camellias, a change of
arrangement about the fiddles, intrusted to him, and Milo was prepared
to go forth, trumpet in hand, for us, from day to dark. Woe to the
luckless wight that hadn't got a card for our "Evening"! the obligation
Milo would place him under was a bond debt for life. Then he contrived
to know everybody; and though he made sad hash of their names, they only
smiled at his blunders.
I have heard that a great English minister one day confessed that the
only exaction of office he never could thoroughly reconcile himself to,
was the nature of those persons he was occasionally obliged to employ
as subordinates. I suppose that, without being leader of a cabinet,
everybody must have experienced something or other of this kind in life.
I think I hear you ask, "Where is the Ritter von Wolfensbafer all this
time? What has become of _him?_" you say. You really are very tiresome,
dearest Kitty, with your little poisonous allusions to "old loves,"
former attachments, and so on. As to the Ritter, however, I heard from
him yesterday; he cannot, it seems, come to Baden; his father is not
on terms with the Grand-Duke, and he strictly charges me not to mention
their names to any one. His letter repeats the invitation to us all to
spend some weeks at the "Schloss,"--an arrangement which might, very
possibly, suit our plans well, since, when the season ends here, it is
still too early to go into winter quarters; and one is sorely puzzled
what to do with the late autumn, which is as wearisome as the time one
passes in the drawing-room before dinner. Of course we must await pa's
return, to reply to this invitation; and I incline to say we shall
accept it. Why will you be so silly as to remind me of the follies of my
childhood? Are there no naughtinesses of the nursery you can rake up to
record? You know as well, if not better than myself, that the attentions
you allude to could never have been seriously meant! nor could Dr. B.
believe them such, if not totally deficient in those qualities of good
sense and judgment for which I always have given him credit. I will not
say that, in the artless gayety of infancy, I have not amused myself
with the mock devotion he proffered; but you might as well reproach
me with fickleness for not taking a child's interest any longer in the
nursery games that once delighted me, as for not sustaining my share in
this absurd illusion!
I plainly perceive one thing, Kitty,--the gentleman in question has very
little pride; but even _that_ in your eyes, may be an excellence,
for you have discovered innumerable merits in his character under
circumstances which, I am constrained to own, have failed to impress me
with a suitable degree of interest. The subject is so very unpleasant,
however, that I must beg it may never be reopened between us; and if you
really feel for him so acutely as you say, I can only suggest that you
should hit upon some plan of consolation perfectly independent of any
aid from your attached friend,
Mary Anne.