1850: Alice in Wonderland
This afternoon’s post, with all the predictable mix of vexation and faint admiration, has brought yet more news of my cousin Alice’s extraordinary escapade to the Orient, accompanied by none other than her milliner—of all people! One cannot help but feel a touch of envy—how magnificent, to flee the humdrum confines of propriety for exotic climes and caprices of one’s own making.
The Duke, on the other hand, is astonishingly indifferent, his sole concern seemingly the jewels Alice had the temerity to abscond with. I am convinced he spends his days in the company of his groomsmen, nursing irritated thoughts about his lost baubles whilst ignoring the human drama unfolding under his very roof.
Alice’s disappearance has thrown into disarray the centuries-old and utterly opaque tradition of the Mallard flock assembling at Mallard House, by the tacit command of His Grace himself. This gathering, a curious blend of ritualistic antiquity and gluttonous indulgence, sees us flock to fill our bellies with choice morsels and, as has been known, our pockets too—when inclined towards less scrupulous ventures. The absence of Alice, the irrepressible Mad Hatter as society now dubs her, threatens this sacred custom with chaos, though one suspects the tradition is too entrenched to crumble entirely.
Today brought a ray of domestic delight with the arrival of my dressmaker, carrying an armful of the season’s freshest fabrics—luscious silks shimmering with subtle patterns, brocades fit for a duchess, and chiffon so light it rivals the morning mist. These will, of course, be fashioned into the most becoming of spring ensembles. Yet, I must not forget to order additional hats—a lady must never count her extravagant headdresses too many.
To prepare, I had the jewels taken from the safe and gently cleaned, their sparkle a small comfort amidst the household’s turmoil. As for Alice, I must compose a letter of encouragement and send it to my daughter, that it may be forwarded to our wandering relative—to remind her that whether mad or merry, she remains beloved and ever in our thoughts.
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