Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 1. Lever Charles James
THE WORLD’S CHANGES
While Mr. Davenport Dunn’s residence was in Merrion Square, his house of business was in Henrietta Street, – one of those roomy old mansions which, before the days of the Union, lodged the aristocracy of Ireland, but which have now fallen into utter neglect and decay. Far more spacious in extent, and more ornate in decoration, than anything modern Dublin can boast, they remain, in their massive doors of dark mahogany, their richly stuccoed ceilings, and their handsome marble chimney-pieces, the last witnesses of a period when Dublin was a real metropolis.
From the spacious dinner-room below to the attics above, all this vast edifice was now converted into offices, and members of Mr. Dunn’s staff were located even in the building at the rear, where the stables once had stood. Nothing can so briefly convey the varied occupations of his life as a glance at some of the inscriptions which figured on the different doors: “Inland Navigation Office,” “Grand Munster Junction Drainage,” “Compressed Fuel Company,” “Reclaimed Lands,” “Encumbered Estates,” “Coast Fishery,” “Copper and Cobalt Mining Association,” “Refuge Harbor Company,” “Slate and Marble Quarries,” “Tyrawley and Erris Bank of Deposit,” “Silver and Lead Mines.” These were but a few of the innumerable “associations,” “companies,” and “industrial speculations” which denoted the cares and employments of that busy head. Indeed, the altered fortunes of that great mansion itself presented no bad type of the changed destinies of the land. Here, once, was the abode of only too splendid hospitality, of all that refined courtesy and polished manners could contribute to make society as fascinating as it was brilliant Here were wit and beauty, and a high, chivalrous tone of manners, blended, it is true, with wildest extravagance and a general levity of thought, that imparted to intercourse the glowing tints of an orgy; and in their stead were now the active signs of industry, all the means by which wealth is amassed and great fortunes acquired, every resource of the country explored, every natural advantage consulted and developed, – the mountains, the valleys, the rivers, the sea-coasts, the vast tracts of bog and moss, the various mines and quarries, the products once deemed valueless, the districts formerly abandoned as irreclaimable, all brought out into strong light, and all investigated in a spirit which hitherto had been unknown to Ireland. What a change was here, and what necessities must have been the fate of those who had so altered all their habits and modes of thought as to conform to a system so widely different from all they had hitherto followed! It was like re-colonizing an empire, so subversive were all the innovations of what had preceded them.
“Eh, Barton, we used to trip up these stairs more flippantly once on a time,” said a very handsome old man, whose well-powdered hair and queue were rather novelties in modern appearance, to a feeble figure who, assisted by his servant, was slowly toiling his way upwards.
“How d’ ye do, Glengariff?” said the other, with a weak smile. “So we used; and they were better days in every sense of the word.”
“Not a doubt of it,” said the other. “Is that your destination?” And he pointed to a door inscribed with the title “Encumbered Estates.”
“Ay!” said Barton, sighing.
“It ‘s mine, too, I ‘m sorry to say,” cried Lord Glengariff; “as I suppose, erelong, it will be that of every country gentleman in the land!”
“We might have known it must come to this!” muttered the other, in a weak voice.
“I don’t think so,” broke in his Lordship, quickly. “I see no occasion at all for what amounts to an act of confiscation; why not give us time to settle with our creditors? Why not leave us to deal with our encumbrances in our own way? The whole thing is a regular political swindle, Barton; they wanted a new gentry that could be more easily managed than the old fellows, who had no station, no rank, but right ready to buy both one and the other by supporting – ”
“Can I be of any service to your Lordship?” interrupted a very over-dressed and much-gold-chained man, of about forty, with a great development of chest, set off to advantage by a very pretentious waistcoat.
“Ah, Hankes! is Dunn come back yet?” asked Lord Glengariff.
“No, my Lord; we expect him on Saturday. The telegraph is dated St. Cloud, where he is stopping with the Emperor.”
Glengariff gave Barton a slight pinch in the arm, and a look of intense meaning at the words.
“Nothing has been done in that matter of mine?” said Barton, feebly. “Jonas Barton is the name,” added he, coloring at the necessity of announcing himself.
“Jonas Barton, of Curryglass House?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Sold yesterday, under the Court, sir – for, let me see – ” And he opened a small memorandum-book. “Griffith’s valuation,” muttered he between his teeth, “was rather better than the Commissioner’s, – yes, sir, they got a bargain of that property yesterday; it went for twenty-two thousand six hundred – ”
“Great God, sir; the whole estate?”
“The whole estate; there is a tithe-rent charge – ”
“There, there, don’t you see he does not hear you?” said Lord Glengariff, angrily. “Have you no room where he can sit down for half an hour or so?” And so saying, he assisted the servant to carry the now lifeless form into a small chamber beside them. The sick man rallied soon, and as quickly remembered where he was.
“This is bad news, Glengariff,” said he, with a sickly effort at a smile. “Have you heard who was the buyer?”
“No, no; what does it matter? Take my arm and get out of this place. Where are you stopping in town? Can I set you down?” said the other, in hurry and confusion.
“I’m with my son-in-law at Ely Place; he is to call for me here, so you can leave me, my dear friend, for I see you are impatient to get away.”
Lord Glengariff pressed his hand cordially, and descended the stairs far more rapidly than he had mounted them.
“Lord Glengariff, – one word, my Lord,” cried Mr. Hankes, hastening after him, and just catching him at the door.
“Not now, sir, – not now,” said Lord Glengariff.
“I beg a thousand pardons, my Lord, but Mr. Dunn writes me peremptorily to say that it cannot be effected – ”
“Not raise the money, did you say?” asked he, growing suddenly pale.
“Not in the manner he proposed, my Lord. If you will allow me to explain – ”
“Come over to my hotel. I am at Bilton’s,” said Lord Glengariff. “Call on me there in an hour.” And so saying, he got into his carriage and drove off.
In the large drawing-room of the hotel sat a lady working, and occasionally reading a book which lay open before her. She was tall and thin, finely featured, and though now entered upon that period of life when every line and every tint confess the ravage of time, was still handsome. This was Lady Augusta Arden, Lord Glengariff’s only unmarried daughter, the very type of her father in temperament as well as appearance.
“By George! it is confiscation. It is the inauguration of that Communism the French speak of,” cried Lord Glengariff, as he entered the room. “There ‘s poor Barton of Curryglass, one of the oldest names in his county, sold out, and for nothing, – absolutely nothing. No man shall persuade me that this is just or equitable; no man shall tell me that the Legislature shall step in and decide at any moment how I am to deal with my creditors.”
“I never heard of that Burton.”
“I said Barton, – not Burton; a man whose estate used to be called five thousand a year,” said he, angrily. “There he is now, turned out on the world. I verily believe he has n’t a guinea left! And what is all this for? To raise up in the country a set of spurious gentry, – fellows that were never heard of, whose names are only known over shop-boards, – as if the people should be better treated or more kindly dealt with by them than by us, their natural protectors! By George! if Ireland should swarm with Davenport