7. All early astir to prepare for the marriage. The Bridegroom [James the butler,] did all his morning work and then set off with his hamper of provisions to arrange his own breakfast at the Doctor’s. Tea, coffee, brown and white sugar, butter, preserved strawberries, bread, hot rolls, ham, corned beef, cake and wine. The Bride dressed all the children and cried too much to dress herself. She was very neat in a blue muslin de laine gown given her by Lady Milltown, a blue plush bonnet given her by me, a white shawl, worked cambric collar, the little girls as bridesmaids in white gloves, their Dehli scarves and all their finery, the best man looking as happy as a king and calling for jam. Poor Sarah, she has been nearly ten years with us—within a very few months—the first servant we hired in England, who took Janey from her birth. Never forget, little girls, how much Sarah has done for both of you.
It is for you, dear children, I am keeping this journal. I have often during my life done so before by starts for my mother or my sisters when we were separated, and I have often regretted that I had not continued to do it. Reading Mr. Wilberforce determined me to begin [even] at this eleventh hour. My experience of life, my love for you, all make me anxious to devote myself to your welfare, and if it should be God’s will to take your parents from you, the voice of your mother from the grave may be a guide and a protection. I am not young—and I am not strong. I shall be 43 next May, your father will be 60 in March and he has been more than 25 years in India. Happiness, comfort, and care may lead us on yet many years—but we may go sooner—before your principles are secured. An uninterrupted course of prosperity you are not to expect nor would I ask it for you. God chastens whom he loves. But I long to see your tempers so controlled, your habits of industry and activity and kindness so fixed, your hearts so truly given to God that you may be enabled to bear the sorrows and disappointments of life with patience, as sent for your good by Him—that you may avoid the temptations of prosperity, diligently examining your hearts which will direct you right if you prove them faithfully, remembering for God’s sake to do your duty in that state of life into which it shall please him to call you.
The post brought a few lines from Mrs. Jameson with a copy made by Harry of his Uncle Woosnam’s letter describing the march of the troops into Affganisthan and the taking of the Fort of Guznee at which he assisted, the object being to dethrone one murdering tyrant and place just such another on the vacant throne. A shocking kind of warfare—our disciplined troops against those poor wretches—as may be judged of from the list of mortality on both sides—we the assailants having twenty-three men killed and about eighty wounded, the defenders leaving in the fort above five hundred bodies to be buried, the wounded and the numbers slaughtered by our cavalry in attempting to escape from the walls were unknown. If this be glory it is indeed but tinsel. There seems to me to be nearly as much credit to be gained by an attack like Don Quixote on a flock of sheep—and the King Shah Souja or something for whom we made this slaughter added his own mite to the general sum of corpses by cutting off the heads of all prisoners brought to the camp during his progress.2
Mr. Fetherstone called and we had an interesting conversation after dinner. In his parish of Holywood he has a great many Protestant parishioners most zealous for their religion—ready to fight anyone opposed to it—and perfectly ignorant of its principles—equally superstitious, bigotted, intolerant, and uninstructed with their papist neighbours. I can say the same of most of whom I have had experience here and then we wonder Ireland don’t improve. Oh, Protestant clergy and landlords of this darkened land what sins of omission at least have you to answer for.
9. The Doctor walked in so much improved by his fortnight’s holidays—sad picture of the state of society in that part of the country near Kilkenny. Gentlemen all living beyond their means—proud and poor and ostentatious, badly educated, idle, dissipated, almost worthless, so drowned in debt as to be crippled in every feeling. How happy are we to have had our quiet lot cast here. A letter from John [Robinson, his brother the Agent] with account current to the end of the year. All debts paid, fifty pounds in hand and two or three of the Tenants the back half-year to pay yet—to near a hundred pounds more, that will do very well and the pay coming in February.
10. Tom Darker [the Steward] much edified with a very able article on the Corn Laws I gave him to read—admits the possibility of the system of agriculture pursued here being improvable, thinks that lighter fences, corners brought in, gates to fields, drains and rotation of crops might greatly increase the value of land; assured me he and his brother have been improving in these respects. Anne Henry from Lodgepark came to call. I should be quite satisfied with such a daughter. I want no daughter of mine to shine. I want no acknowledged beauty, no professor of any accomplishment—no learned lady—nothing remarkable, but I wish to see my girls obliging, industrious, contented, sufficiently accomplished to make their home agreeable, so intelligent as to be suitable companions to their father, their brother or their husband.
12. I have been thinking how best to encourage the school, and not being able to afford more help in money than it now costs, I have determined on giving fewer prizes— only one in each Division—and instead I shall send ten children to school. I have also resolved on resuming my regular daily business as the only possible way of keeping things in order. Monday—The washing to be given out. Clothes mended. Stores for the week given to the servants. Tuesday—work for the week cut out and arranged, my own room tidied. Wednesday—accounts, letters, papers all put by. Thursday—house-keeping, closets, storeroom, etc. arranged, bottles put by, pastry made—in short every necessary job done for the week. Friday—gardening and poor people’s wants. Saturday—put by clean clothes and school. Two hours generally does all, except on Thursday. Thus I am always ready and have plenty of time for other occupations. I also give an hour every evening to the little girls. Janey has a musick lesson every day—Annie every second day—twice a week French—twice a week English—twice a week dancing. Alas, when we see company all this happiness must be forborne, but we owe a duty to society as to other things and in its turn it must be paid and a little intercourse with our acquaintance is good both for ourselves and for our children. With friends it is delightful, and we have some even here I should be very sorry to have to part from. In the evening played some of Corelli’s solos, read aloud Mrs. Trollope’s Domestic Manners of the Americans.
14. Janey and Miss Cooper to carry some trifles to poor Biddy Shannon and enquire how many children from Burgage are at school. A poor woman with a sickly baby came for a dispensary ticket: luckily I had some old flannel and socks of Johnny’s for the little wretched thing—and mind, dear little girls, never to throw away anything. I consider the servants sufficiently well off with their wages, well fed, well housed, and no hardship, and all old clothes I put carefully away, sure that some day some distressed persons will want them. The merest rag goes into a rag bag which when full a poor woman will sell for a few pennies. Cut out shifts and bibs for some poor—sixty yards of calico for one pound; how much comfort to be given for the price of one smart bonnet.
15. My account day very busy, brought up Tom Darker’s books to the end of the year and quite satisfied with the Farm, having sold from it upwards of two hundred pounds worth besides all the hay, corn, straw and potatoes consumed by the family.
16. Too busy moving furniture to get out; reading the paper over the fire saw ‘more insults by the French to the British flag’ somewhere on the Coast of Africa. Add this to the West Indies, the Mauritius, etc. and then this nice business in China—the Chartists—the Queen’s pecuniary embarrassments with her income of upwards of three hundred thousand a year—the disreputable character of her court composed of the needy, the frivolous, the profligate, and the weakness if not the wickedness of the ministry—what awful times.
A most unladylike letter came from Mrs. Moore to Sarah. I was quite unprepared for the extreme shabbiness, the heartlessness, the total want of gentlewomanly feeling betrayed by this extraordinary production. I was too seriously angry to be able to advise a proper answer till I had waited for near an hour and