Really quite tormented with little Caroline, she has taken quite a mania for dress and she clips and works at the bodies of her gowns till she can hardly stuff herself into them and patches on great bits at the bottom till her petticoats trail all round upon the ground and after her tour with Johnny on the wet days she comes in with a quarter of a yard of mud about her legs, her bonnets too she won’t wear unless of the fashionable shape and she is such a plain little thing, she can only look well by being, very clean and very neat.
Wrote to Jane and gave her a little of my mind about this very foolish church business in Scotland. It is nothing but rank Popery under another name. An attempt by the priesthood to elevate themselves above the law of the land which certainly won’t succeed and will most likely disgust most intelligent persons with the Presbyterian assumption that most undoubtedly does a great deal of mischief and so does its morose character. It hurts the temper and the feelings of the people, and as for the outward decorum of manner so much praised in the Scotch it is very dearly purchased by an arrogance, a sourness, a bigotry that we would not tolerate among the heathens.
8. Beautiful Sunday. Little girls looked so very nice in their new black satin shawls. Miss Gardiner, poor soul, in her folly went and spent all her saved money on ever so many yards of black satin turque with silk for lining and flannel for wadding, fringe, etc., in the forlorn hope that she would get sale for shawls by disposing of them at 2/—less than they could be bought for in Dublin. Finished the fourth volume of Chambers’ Journal which continues to rise in interest and value and a most valuable little work by a Rev. Mr. Abbott, an American, ‘The Mother at Home,’ which should be put into the hands of every parent and every Governess, a class of persons more in need of instruction and education than almost any other.
12. Went to school, found seventeen children and every day now they are coming in again looking, poor things, very much cut up after this epidemick, took the opportunity of returning home with Judy Ryan’s children, wishing to see for myself whether what I had heard were true and which the miserable condition of the children, the failure of the rent and other indications nearly proved. The dinner for the poor things was ready, a plate full of the small old potatoes such as John Fitzpatrick latterly very much grumbled at having to give to the pigs, neither milk nor salt. There is a good house, above twelve acres of ground once in fair order. Judy went from me fully clothed, clothes for her children, seven pounds in money, two pigs, two turkeys, crockery and hardware quite beyond any supply ever hoped for in her station and all which she really deserved from her care of little Annie and her general good conduct while with us. When her husband died he left her with a horse, a dray, a cow, and a pig and no debt, her spare room was constantly let to some of the tradesmen employed in the building of this house and afterwards to James and Sarah. Besides this an Aunt died and left her a great deal of furniture and clothing and it is said money; of all this there remains nothing, even her crops are sold off the ground, her grazing paid for in advance, there is nothing outside nor inside but poverty, a bare house, starved ragged children, unstocked land. What has become of it all is more than any one can tell, really eat and drunk I believe, by herself, her great big sister, her two lazy brothers, her old wicked mother and a whole crew of beggar nephews and nieces, her debts are many too. The Colonel and Mr. Robinson will probably eject her and very properly for not payment of rent, her dishonest mismanagement proving her quite incapable of holding land, but I feel very sorry for Christy Ryan’s poor children impoverished to actual destitution, to keep for a few years that detestable clan of Quins in idle plenty. The little forsaken baby I had put to nurse with Judy and which while money lasted throve so well I shall certainly take from her to-morrow or next day and place where her board will be more faithfully spent on her, the little creature has shrunk into half her size—really looks dying. The whole scene is most miserable.
14. Had to go to school with work etc. and to remove the poor little miserable child from Judy’s wretched home to one not looking so decent but where I think she will be better minded—kept clean—made industrious and have enough to eat. She was at first saucy, but soon melted into tears, and exclaimed she wished she had taken my advice in time. She is indeed in utter poverty and has nothing but worse misery before her.
A letter from [sister Mary at] Pau quite out of humour with everybody but herself, her children, and Monsieur Puyoo, père et fils, still enraptured with her ‘Pyrennean home’ in words, yet I fancy she is tiring of it, she has been near a year there, a long time for her to be content with any place.
15. Beautiful Sunday, full church, such a sermon, a whole chapter of Kings was the text, Ahab and Jezebel7 the subjects, connubial felicity the moral in the unravelling of which he got into such a hobble that I let my veil down and sat quite in distress, there was no practical piety in this effusion nor indeed any piety at all, a kind of lecture of folly.
19. Beautiful day. Very busy preparing for the party tomorrow, boiling, baking, roasting, etc., to have enough luncheon for twenty-four people, though I suppose all won’t come. So our number is complete. I will do my part to make this our first auction go off well. We shall see how the party succeeds, it is not easy to manage any thing cheerful in our neighbourhood.
20. Auction went off very well indeed, had our rooms all ready, table laid, all but the hot dishes served, every thing ready by one o’clock. There was a very good cold collation of meats, jellies, creams, pastry, cakes etc., with a hot quarter of lamb and a hot pasty, a side table with vegetables, another with fruits, great plenty without being overloaded, all very nice. Ogle Moore and his sister Georgina, his wife and her sister and three children, the baby, Nelly and Edward; Mrs. Finnemor, Bessy and Louisa; Mr. and Mrs. Cotton and their two children; John Hornidge, Vans Hornidge, the Doctor, these were all we mustered.
John Hornidge was chosen Auctioneer and a most capital one he made, buyers were very ‘shy’ yet we managed amongst us to bid up some of the books pretty well. Altogether the Club will have twenty-seven pounds odd for the supply of the ensuing year which is more than we began with. We got our own book, Sir James Mackintosh for only a shilling or two more than half price. Sketches by Boz, his first work for four shillings, Sir Samuel Romilly for six shillings, Lockhart’s Life of Scott for one pound twelve and six, Miss Casey, the monkey, bidding it up out of spite.
24. A grand event. I rode on Grasshopper, but had Frank walking beside me, felt happier after a while but painfully nervous at first, good natured Hal rode beside me, we went all round the hill, were out two hours and every body big and little laughed at me!
27. Delightful day. Exhibited myself and my folly [she believed she was pregnant] for a second time upon Grasshopper, going without Frank and suffering an agony of fear that should have excited pity rather than mirth. We went to Blesinton, to Tulfarris and home by the ruined cottage, I may call it now. We were out near three hours, but I could not screw up my nerves to a canter.
31. Old Mrs. Tyrrell was here in great glee having hope of work from Mrs. Gore, she has quite altered the look of my poor little foundling in this short time, the child has a happy bright air quite unlike her former stupidity, and is clean and fat; she will get a few thumps I daresay for that is cabin fashion, but she will be kept clean and be well fed and be brought up in habits of active industry. I gave my parcel for the ‘orphan’, queer kind of orphan whose parents are living, to Peggy, and bid her tell Mrs. Quin to tease me no more with her stories, all the consequences of her own misdeeds. She deprived the son of her first husband of his inheritance to give it to the son of her second who is repaying her injustice with merited ingratitude. In managing her house she secreted a private hoard which to the amount of twenty pounds, or more she quilted into her petticoat and always treating her daughters harshly deserved that one of them should run away with a lover she disapproved of and carry this petticoat along with her. Still I am sorry for the old body, and for the seven destitute grand-children whose father should be where I am sorry to say red Pat Quin is, the Quins are a bad set, the whole race.
WEDNESDAY
