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OUR MESS.
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN,
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PORTRAIT OF THE ADTHOX'
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WILLIAM CURRY WILLIAM S. t
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JACK HINTON,
THE GUARDSMAN.
CHARLES LEVER.
(I^arrp Eorrequer.)
WITH
PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR.
AND NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS ON WOOD AND STEEL,
BY
H. K. BROWNE.
DUBLIN
WILLIAM CURRY, JUN. AND COMPANY. WILLIAM S. ORR AND CO. LONDON.
FRASER AND CO. EDINBURGH.
1845.
» . . ••1 i» \ «' ••• • •> \ ■
> , ' * • », • ^ <
DUBLl.V PRINTED BY J. 8. FOLDS ASD SOX,
C, Bachelor's-walk,
TO -) ^'^
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD ELIOT,
CHIEF SECRETARY OF STATE FOR IRELAND.
V
y My Dear Lord,
The hero of the Volume whose dedication I beg you to accept of, was sorely puzzled some forty years back by the anomalies of the worthy people among whom his lot was cast. Since that period, whatever other changes time may have worked, in these respects I am inclined to believe they remain unaltered, and
0C5 are at this moment pretty much as incomprehensible as ever.
^ Your lordship's residence amongst us may have assured you of this latter fact, which, I suspect, is about as much knowledge as is
^ attainable on the subject. I at least have no presumptuous expectation of elucidating the mysteries or solving the difficulties of Irish character, but with the less ambitious object of exhibiting some of their peculiar features, some of their moods of mirth and melancholy,
H i have ventured on these sketches ; which I should be delighted
w
g to hope might amuse a stray hour snatched from the cares of ^ office, while they afford me an occasion to say how much I am,
My dear Lord,
Your very sincere and devoted servant,
THE AUTHOR.
Terrple-Oge, November 10, 1842.
CONTENTS.
A Finale to an Evening
CUAl'TKR X.
PAGE 05
A Negotiation
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
A Wager
78
CHAPTER XIII.
A Night of Trouble
87
CHAPTER XIV.
The Parting
97
CHAPTER XV.
The Letter from Tlome
100
CHAPTER XVI.
A Morning in Town
104
CHAPTER XVII.
An Evening in Town
. 112
CHAPTER XVIII
A Confidence
123
CHAPTER XIX.
The Canal Boat
129
CHAPTER XX.
Shannon Harbour
134
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXI.
PAGE
Louglirea ........ 141
CHAPTER XXII. A Moonlight Canter ....... 151
CHAPTER XXIII. Major Mahon and his Quarters . . .' . . . 157
CHAPTER XXIV. The Devil's Grip ..... 161
CHAPTER XXV. The Steeple-Chase ....... 169
CHAPTER XXVI.
The Dinner-Party at Mount-Brown ..... 179
CHAPTER XXVII. The Race BaU . . . . .... 183
CHAPTER XXVIII. The Inn Fire ... ... 193
CHAPTER XXIX. The Duel ........ 201
CHAPTER XXX. A Country Doctor ....... 207
CHAPTER XXXI.
The Letter-Bag . . . . i . .211
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Bob Mahon and the Widow
J' AGE
216
Tlio Priest's GifT
CHAl'TEU XXXIII.
. 221
CHAl'TER XXXIV.
The Mountain Pass
225
CHAPTER XXXV.
The Journey
234
Muiranakilty
CHAPTER XXXVI.
244
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Sir Simon
. 249
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
St. Scnan's Well
257
CHAPTER XXXIX.
An Unlooked-for Mectini;
. 2Gr
CHAPTER XL.
The Priest's Ritciien
273
CHAl'TEU XLI.
Tlpperary Joe
277
CHAPTER XLII.
Tiic Ilitrii lload
• •
280
CONTENTS.
The Assize Town
CHAPTER XLIII.
PAGE
285
CHAPTER XLIV.
The Bar Dinner
289
CHAPTER XLV.
The Return
. 292
CHAPTER XLVI.
Farewell to Ireland
295
CHAPTER XLVII.
London
301
CHAPTER XLVIII.
An Unhappy Disclosure
306
CHAPTER XLIX.
The Horse- Guards
311
CHAPTER L.
The Retreat from Burgos
317
CHAPTER LI.
A Mishap
321
CHAPTER LII.
The March
327
CHAPTER mi.
Vittoria
. 330
CONTENTS.
The Retreat
CHAPTER LIV.
PAGK
335
CHAPTER r.V.
The. Four-in-hand
345
St. Denis
CHAPTER LVI.
349
CHAPTER LVII.
Paris in 1814
363
CHAPTER LVIII.
The "Roni Fete"
362
CHAPTER LIX.
"Frescati"
372
CHAPTER LX.
Disclosures
381
CHAPTER LXI.
New Arrivals .
389
CHAl>TER LXII.
Cvnclusion
392
Envoy
395
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
POKTKAIT OF THE AuTHOR
The Packet .....
The Landing .....
Mrs. Paul taking a little snack
Mrs. Paul Rooney's introduction to the Duke
The Finale to an Evening
The Duke knighting Corny Delany
The IMoney-lender's Drawing-room
A Monk of the Screw unscrews Mr. Delany's courage
Joe the Mighty Hunter ....
Corny 's Mamma ....
Irish sport with a Cockney
Modirideroo . . . . •
Bob INIahon and the "Widdy
Father Tom's Curriculum ....
Death of Shawn ....
Bob Mahon's elevation of the Sheriff
St. Senan's Well ....
A Warm Reception ....
Farewell to Tipperary Joe
"What is it ?
La Vivandiere ....
The Four-in-Hand ....
Corny's Combat with the Cossack
A Cutting Reception ....
Monsieur de Roni in his glory
Tim the Tartar .....
Fbontispiece 11 13 41 . 63 72 . 73 109 . 122 137 . 138 165 . 173 218 . 222 229 . 242 261 . 269 300 . 316 323 . 348 354 . 356 366 . 392
WOOD ENGRAVINGS.
Mr. Delany
Long Tim Mr. Paul Roouey Mrs. Paul Rooney The Boys Painting Latitat Tipperary .Toe Mr. Ha'kin Corny Delany
16 29
46
48
80
111
177 185 215
OUR MESS.
BY CHARLES LEVER, ESQ.
HARRY LORREQUER.
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN.
" We were all very ' pipe-clay,' I freely confess,
Though I see not why that should alarm ye : It's tol'rably clear, if ye dine at a mess.
You'll now and then hear of the army ; And in fact for nought else will you ever find room,
Nor e'en a sly syllable cram. While they rave of Barossa and Bergen-op-Zoom,
Salamanca, Seringapatam.
" What a noise ! — what a din ! — what a Babel ! I'm sure That no one e'er heard such a racket : One old general's describing the siege of Namur,
And an older, the fight at Malplaquet. But the glories of Spain, and of Portugal, too,
Have nearly eclipsed old * Malbrook ;' And if any one whisper the word Waterloo, AVe rise with three cheers to * the DuUe.' "
The Mess, a poem.
MESS, NO. I. VOL. I.
NOTICE, LIMINARY OH PRELIMINARY.
« My Dear Lorrequer,
" As there is no possibility of even guessing how far your ' Irish impudence' and the good nature of the public may lead you, a nmnber of us have resolved on swimming with the cvirrent we cannot stem, and, as you seem determined to ' take our lives,' we feel the best thing we can do is, to offer them to you freely.
" A little knot — some on full, some on half, some on no pay — of every age and rank in the service, from the lieutenant-general to the junior ensign, of every arm, from the sepoy to the sapper, have agreed to form a reunion under the name of ' Our Mess,* where, meeting together, we can chat over and communicate such incidents of our early days as possibly might amuse the public, and at all events will prevent our being presented to their notice with more follies, faults, and absurdities than we can justly lay claim to.
" I need not tell you that our number was soon made up : some liked the gossip of the thing, others the jollity ; one was pleased with the publicity, another with the punch, and not a few were frightened by the fate of Monsoon.
" We give you, then, all right and title to owe memoirs and reminis- cences ; you have carte blanche as to style and every other matter of book-making, of which we suppose you imderstand something, and we are convinced we know nothing ; and have only one parting injunction, which is, to treat us as tenderly as the trade will permit.
" Believe me yours, my dear Lorrequer,
" Tom O'Flaherty.
" Bailajos Lodge, "Windermere.
"P.S. — We have a stray Adonis or two among us who would prefer it if your friend Phiz could come down here for their portraits, instead
4 NOTICE.
of trusting to chance, or, worse still, your vile descriptions ; try if this could be managed.
" P.P.S Don't you tliink it would be a polite attention to send ufl
the thing as it comes out moatlUy ? *' T. O'F."
This free-and-easy epistle, most kind public, we present to you verbatim, with the double object of showing to what indignities we are exposed for your sake, and also of explaining the motive of the present publication — to maintain with you an intimacy which is at once the pride and pleasure of our life ; to continue, on any terms, an acquaintance which to us has been but a source of unceasing satisfac- tion, we have put our honest indignation in our pocket, and accepted our friend's jjroposal.
Taking "Our Mess" as our title, w^e purpose to give you the memoirs of its members, suffering each man to tell his story, if he have one, in his own way. We shall interfere little with their claims to authorship, while we indulge the solitary hope that they may prove as agreeable in type as we have known some of them at table.
We remember once, in a ramble through the classic precincts of the liberties in Dublin, to have assisted at a species of lottery in which, for the payment of one shilling, you had a dive into a sack supposed to contain wigs of every shape and colour, from the "judge" to the "jiLsy." The disappointment and dismay of tlie luckless candidates wlio, by the fickleness of fortune, invariably drew forth the opposite to their wishes — the spruce apprentice fulling upon a "scratch," while a cobbler flourished a full bottom that had figured in Chancery — diverted us for a considerable time.
The lesson, however, has lingered in our memory and shall not be lost. Adopting the same method with our manuscripts, while we utter the honest invitation of our predecessor, — No favour or affection, gentlemen ; all fair, and only one shilling — we draw forth, at random, w)iat comes first to our hand, and here present you with
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAP^.
CHAPTER I.
A FAMILY PARTY.
It was on a dark and starless night in February, 181 — , as the last carriage of a dinner party had driven from the door of a large house in St. James's square, when a party drew closer aroimd the drawing- room fire, apparently bent vipon that easy and familiar chit-chat the presence of company interdicts.
One of these was a large and fine-looking man of about five-and- forty, who, dressed in the full uniform of a general officer, wore besides tlie ribbon of the Bath ; he leaned negligently upon the chimney-piece, and, with his back towards the fire, seemed to follow the current of his own reflections : this was my father.
Beside him, but almost concealed in the deep recess of a well- cushioned fauteuil, sat or rather lay a graceful but somewhat passee figure, who with an air of languid repose was shading her fine com- plexion as well from the glare of the fire as the trying brilliancy of an Argand lamp upon the mantel-piece. Her rich dress resplendent with jewels, while it strangely contrasted with the careless abandon of her attitude, also showed that she had bestowed a more than common attention that day upon her toilette : this, fair reader, was my mother.
Opposite to her, and disposed in a position of rather studied grace- fulness, lounged a tall, thin, fashionable-looking man, Avith a dark olive complexion, and a short black moustache. He wore in the button- hole of his blue coat the ribbon of St. Louis. The Count de Gram- mont, for such he was, was an emigre, noble, who, attached to the fortunes of the Bourbons, had resided for some years in London, and who, in the double capacity of adviser of my father and admirer of my lady mother, obtained a considerable share of influence in the family and a seat at its councils.
At a little distance from the rest, and apparently engaged with her embroidery, sat a very beautiful girl, whose dark hair and long lashes deepened the seeming paleness of features a Greek sciilptor might have
6 OLK MESS.
copied. VVliile notliing could be more perfect than the cahn loveliness of her face and the delicate penciling of her slightly-arched eyebrows, an accurate observer could detect that her tremulous lip occasionally curled with a passing expression of half scorn, as from time to time she tiu-ned her eyes towards each speaker in turn, while she herself maintained a perfect silence. My cousin, Lady Julia Egerton, had indeed but that one fault: shall I venture to call by so harsh a name that spirit of gentle malice which loved to look for the ludicrous features of every thing around her, and inclined her to indulge what the French call the " cfprit moqueur" even on occasions when her own feelings were interested ?
The last figure of the group was a stripling of some nineteen years, who, in the uniform of the Guards, was endeavouring to seem perfectly easy and unconcerned, while it was evident that his sword- knot divided his attention with some secret thoughts that rendered him anxious and excited : this was myself.
A silence of some moments was at length broken by my mother, who, with a kind of sigh Miss O'Neill was fond of, turned towards the count and said, —
" Do confess, count, w^e were all most stupid to-day. Never did a dinner go off so heavily. But it's always the penalty one pays for a royal duke. Apropos, general, what did he say of Jack's ap^ioint- ment ?'
" Nothing could be more kind, nothing more generous than his Royal Highness. Tlie very first thing he did in the room was, to place this despatch in my hands. This, Jack," said my father, turning tQ me, " this is your ajipointment as an extra aid-de-camp."
" Very proper indeed," interposed my mother ; " I am very happy to think you'll be about the court. Windsor, to be siu"e, is stupid."
" He is not likely to see much of it," said my father drily.
*' Oh, you think he'll be in town then ?"
" Why not exactly that either."
" Then what can you mean ?" said she with more of animation than before.
" Simply, that his appointment is on the staff in Ireland."
" In Ireland !" repeated my mother with a tragic start. " In Ire- land!"
" In Ireland !" said Lady Julia in a low soft voice.
"En Jrelande l" echoed the count, with a look of well got up horror, as he elevated his eyebrows to the very top of his forehead •, while I myself, to whom the communication was as sudden and as un- expected, assumed a kind of soldier-like indifference, as though to say, what matters it to me, what do I care for the rigours of climate ? the snows of tlie Caucasus, or the suns of Bengal are quite alike ; even Ireland, if his Majesty's service require it.
" Ireland," repeated my mother once more ; " I really never heard any think so very shocking. But, my dear Jack, you can't think of it. Surely, general, you had presence of mind to declhie."
" To accept, and to thank most gratefiUly his Royal Highness for
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 7
such a mark of his favour, for this I had quite presence of mind," said my father somewhat haughtily.
" And you really will go, Jack ?"
" Most decidedly," said I, as I put on a kind of Godefroy-de- Bouillon look, and strutted about the room.
" And pray what can induce you to such a step ?"
" Oui, '■que diable allait-il faire dans cette galere?'" said the count.
" By Jove," cried my father hastily, " you are both intolerable ; you Mished your boy to be a Guardsman in opposition to my desire for a regiment on service. You would have him an aid-de-camp : now he is both one and the other. In heaven's name, what think ye of getting him made a lady of the bed-chamber ? for it's the only appointment I am aware of "
" You are too absurd, general," said my mother, pettishly, " Count, pray touch the bell ; that fire is so very hot, and I really was quite unprepared for this piece of news."
" And you, Julia," said I, leaning over the back of my cousin's chair, " what do you say to all this ? "
" I've just been thinking what a pity it is I shovdd have wasted all my skill and my worsted on this foolish rug, while I could have been embroidering a gay banner for oiu" young knight boimd for the wars. \Partant pour la Syrie,^ " hummed she, half pensively, while I coidd see a struggling effort to suppress a laugh. I tm-ned indignantly away, and walked towards the fire, where the coimt was expending his con- solations on my mother.
" After all, miladi, it is not so bad as you think in the provinces ; I once spent three weeks in Brittany, very pleasantly indeed : oiii, pardieu, it's quite true. To be sure, we had Perlet, and Mademoiselle Mars, and got up the Pricieuses Ridicules as Avell as in Paris."
The application of this very apposite fact to Ireland, was clearly satisfactory to my mother, who smiled benignly at the speaker, while my father tiu-ned upon him a look of the most indescribable import.
" Jack, my boy ! " said he, taking me by the arm, " were I yoiu* age, and had no immediate prospect of active service, I should prefer Ireland to any country in the world. I have plenty of old friends on the staff there. The duke himself was my schoolfellow "
" I hope he will be properly attentive," interrupted my mother. " Dear Jack, remind me to-morrow to write to Lady Mary."
" Don't mistake the country you're going to," continued my father ; " you will find many things very different from what you are leaving ; and, above all, be not over ready to resent, as an injur}', Avhat may merely be intended as a joke : yoiu* brother officers will always guide you on these points."
" And above all things," said my mother, with great earnestness, " do not adopt that odious fashion of wearing their hair. I've seen members of both houses, and particularly that little man they talk so much of, Mr. Grattan, I believe they call him "
" Make your mind perfectly easy on that head, my lady," said my father, drily, " your son is not particularly likely to resemble PIcnry Grattan."
8 oun MESS.
My cousin Julia alone seemed to relish the tone of sarcasm he spoke in, for she actually bestowed on him a look of almost grateful acknowledgment.
" The carriage, my lady," said the servant, and at the same moment my mother, possibly not sorry to cut short the discussion, rose from her chair.
" Do you intend to look in at the duchess's, general ? "
" For half an hour," replied my father ; " after that I have my letters to write. .lack, you know, leaves us to-morrow."
"'Tis really very provoking," said my mother, turning at the same time a look towards the count.
" A vos ordres, madamc" said he, bowing with an air of most deferential i)oliteness, wliile he presented his arm for her acceptance.
" Good night, then," cried I, as the party left the room ; " I have so much to do and to think of, I shan't join you." I turned to look for Lady Julia, but she was gone, when and how I knew not ; so I sat doM-n at the fire to ruminate alone over my present position, and my prospects for the future.
These few and imperfect passages may put the reader in possession of some, at least, of the circumstances wliich accompanied my outset in life ; and if they be not sufficiently explicit, I can only say, that he knows fully as much of me as at the period in question I did of myself.
At Eton, I had been what is called rather a smart boy, but incorri- gibly idle ; at Sandhurst, I showed more ability and more disinclination to learn. By the favour of a royal duke (who had been my god- father) my commission in a marching regiment was exchanged for a second lieutenancy in the Guards ; and at the time I write of I had been some six months in the service, which I spent in all the wlurl and excitement of London society. My father, who, besides being a distinguished officer, was one of the most popular men among the clubs, my mother, a London beauty of some twenty years' standing, were claims sufficient to ensure me no common share of attention, while I added to the number what, in my o^vn estimation at least, were certain very decided advantages of a purely personal nature.
To obviate, as far as might be, the evil results of such a career, my father secretly sued for the appointment on the staff of the noble duke then viceroy of Ireland, in preference to what my mother contemplated, — my being attached to tlie royal household. To remove me alike from tlie enervating influence of a mother's vanity, and the extravagant pro- fusion and voluptuous abandonment of London habits, this was his object. He calculated, too, that by new ties, new associations, and new objects of ambition, I should be better prepared, and more desirous of tliat career of real service to wliich in his heart he destined me : tliese ■were f»is notions at least; tlie result must be gleaned from my story.
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN.
CHAPTER II.
THE IRISH PACKET.
A FEW nights after the conversation I have briefly alluded to, and pretty much about the same time, I aroused myself from the depression of nearly thirty homes' sea-sickness, on hearing that at length we were in the bay of Dublin. Hitherto I had never left the precincts of the narrow den, denominated my berth ; but now I made my way eagerly on deck, anxious to catch a glimpse, however faint, of that bold coast I had more than once heard compared with, or even preferred to, Naples. The night, however, was falling fast, and, worse still, a per- fect down-poiu" of rain ^^as falling with it ; the sea ran high, and swept the little craft from stem to stern ; the spars bent like whips, and our single topsail strained and stretched as though at every fresh plunge it would part company with us altogether. No trace or outline of the coast could I detect on any side ; a deep red light apiaearing and disappearing at intervals, as we rode upon or sank beneath the trough of the sea, was aU that my eye' could perceive : this, the dripping helmsman briefly informed me was the " Kish ;" but, as he seemed little disposed for conversation, I was left to my vmassisted ingenuity to make out whether it represented any point of the capital we were approach- ing or not.
The storm of wind and rain increasing at each moment, drove me once more back to the cabin, where, short as had been the period of my absence, the scene had undergone a most important change. Up to this moment ray sufferings and my seclusion gave me little leismre or opportunity to observe my fellow-travellers. The stray and scattered fragments of conversation that reached me, rather puzzled than en- lightened me. Of the topics which I innocently supposed occupied all human attention, not a word was dropped ; Carlton House was not once mentioned ; the St. Leger and the Oaks, not even alluded to ; whether the Prince's breakfast was to come off at Knightsbridge or Frogmore, no one seemed to know or even care ; nor was a hint di'opped as to the fashion of the new bearskins the Guards were to sport at the review on Hoimslow. The price of pigs, however, in Ballinasloe, they were perfect in. Of a late row in EjI some- thing— where one half of the population had massacred the other — they knew every thing, even to the names of the defunct. A few of the better-dressed chatted over comitry matters, from Avhith I could glean that game and gentry were growing gradually scarcer ; but a red-nosed fat old gentleman, in rusty black and high boots, talked down the
10 OUR MESS.
Others by an eloquent account of the mawling that lie, a certain Father Tom Loft its, had given the Reverend Paul Strong, at a late controversial meeting in the Rotunda.
Through all this " bald, disjointed chat," unceasing demands were made for bottled porter, " materials," or spirits and wather, of which, were I to judge from the frequency of the requests, the consumption must have been awful.
There would seem something in the very attitude of lying that in- duces reflection, and, thus stretched at full length in my berth, I could not lielp ruminating upon the . land I was approaching, in a spirit which, I confess, accorded much more with my mother's prejudices than my father's convictions. From tlie few chance phrases dropped around me, it appeared that even tlie peaceful pursuits of a country market, or the cheerful sports of the field. Mere followed up in a spirit of recklessness and devilment ; so that many a head that left home without a care, went back with a crack in it. But to come back once more to the cabin. It must be borne in mind that some thirty odd years ago the passage between Liverpool and Dublin was not, as at present, the rajjid flight of a dozen hours, from shore to shore ; where on one evening you left the timndering din of waggons, and the iron crank of cranes and windlasses, to wake the next morning with the rich brogue of Paddy floating softly aroimd you : far from it ; the thing was then a voyage. You took a solemn leave of your friends, you tore yoiu-self from the embraces of yoiu* family, and, with a tear in your eye and a hamper on your arm, you betook yourself to the pier, to watch, •with an anxious afid a beating heart, every step of the three hours preceding that heralded your departure. In tiiose days, there was some honour in being a traveller ; and the man who had crossed the channel a couple of times, became a kind of Captain Cook among his acquaintances.
The most singular feature of the whole, however, and the one to which I am now about to aUude, proceeded from the fact that the steward in those days, instead of the extensive resources of the present period, had little to oflfer you, save some bad brandy and a biscuit ; and each traveller had to look to his various wants with an accuracy and foresight that required both tact and habit. The mere demands of hunger and thirst were not only to be considered in the abstract, but a point of far greater difiiculty, the probable length of the voyage, was to be taken into consideration ; so that you bought your beef- steaks with yoiu" eye upon the barometer, and laid in your mutton by the age of the moon. While thus llie agency of the season was made to re-act upon your stomach, in a manner doubtless highly conducive to the interests of science, your part became one of the most critical nicety.
Scarcely were you afloat, and on the high seas, when your appetite was made to depend on the aspect of the weather. Did the wind blow fresli and fair, you eat away with a careless ease and a happy con- science, liighly beneficial to yoiu* digestion. With a glance through the sky-light at the blue heaven, Avith a sly look at the prosperous dog-
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 1 1
vane, you helped yourself to the liver wing, and took an extra glass of your sherry. Let the breeze fall, however, let a calm come on, or, worse still, a tramping noise on deck, and a certain ricketty motion of the craft betoken a change of wind, the knife and fork fell listlessly from your hand, the uplifted cutlet was consigned to your plate, the very spoonful of gravy you had devoured in imagination, was dropped upon the dish, and you replace the cork in your bottle, with the sad sigh of a man who felt that, instead of his income, he has been living on the principal of his fortune.
Happily, there is a reverse to the medal, and this it was to which now my attention was directed. The trip, as occasionally happened, was a rapid one ; and wliile under the miserable impression that a fourth part of the journey had not been accomplished, we were. blessed with the tidings of land. Scarcely was the word uttered, when it flew from mouth to mouth ; and I thought I could trace the elated look of proud and happy hearts, as home drew near. What was my surprise, however, to see the enthusiasm take another and very diiferent channel. With one accord a general rush was made upon the hampers of prog. Baskets were burst open on every side. Sandwiches and sausages, porter bottles, cold punch, chickens, and hard eggs, were strewn about with a careless and reckless profusion ; none seemed too sick or too sore for this general epidemic of feasting. Old gentlemen sat up in their beds and bawled for beef; children of tender years brandished a drum-stick. Individuals who but a short half-hour before seemed to have made a hearty meal, testified by the ravenous exploits of their appetites to their former forbearance and abstemipusness. Even the cautious little man in the brown spencer, thatA\'rapt up the remnant of his breakfast in the Times, now opened his whole store, and seemed bent upon a day of rejoicing. Never was such a scene of riotous noise and tmuultuous mirth. Those who scowled at each other till now, hob-nobbed across the table ; and simpering old maids cracked merry thoughts with gay bachelors, without even a passing fear for the result. Thank heaven, said I, aloud, that I see all this with my sense and my intellects clear about me. Had I suddenly awoke to such a prospect from the disturbed slumber of sickness, the chances were ten to one I had jumped overboard, and swam for my life. In fact, it could convey but one image to the mind, such as we read of, when some infuriated and reckless men, despairing of safety, without a hope left, resolve upon closing life in the mad orgies of drunken abandonment.
Here were the meek, the tranquil, the hiunble-minded, the solitary, the sea-sick, all suddenly converted into riotous and roistering feasters. The lips that scarcely moved, now blew the froth from a porter cup Avith the blast of a Boreas : and even the small vu-chin in the gi-een face and nankeen jacket, bolted hard eggs with the dexterity of a clown in a pantomime. The end of all things (eatable) had certainly come. Chickens were dismembered like felons, and even jokes and witticisms were bandied upon the victuals. What, if even yet, thought I, the wind should change. The idea w as a malicious one, too horrible
12 OUR MESS.
to indulge in. At this moiiiciit tlie noise and turmoil on deck ajiprieed me that our voyage was near its termination.
Tlie night, as I have said, was dark and stormy. It rained too — as it knows only how to rain in Ireland. There was that steady persist- ance, that persevering monotony of down-pour, which, not satisfied with wetting you to tlie skin, seems bent upon converting your very blood into water. The wind swept in long and moaning gusts along the bleak pier, which, late and inclement as it was, seemed crowded with people. Scarcely was a rope thrown ashore, when we were boarded on every side, by the rigging, on the shrouds, over the bulwarks, from the anchor to the tatfrail ; the whole population of the island semed to flock in upon us ; while soimds of wedcome and recog- nition resounded on all sides —
" How are you. Mister Maguire?" " Is the mistress with you?" " Is that you, Mr. Tierney ?" How are j^ou, ma'am ?" " And yourself, Tim ?" " Beautiful, glory be to God !" " A great passage, entirely, ma'am." " Nothing but rain since I seen you." " Take the trunks up to Mrs. Tmistall ; and, Tim, darling, oysters and punch for four."
" Great Mercy !" said I, " eating again."
" Morrisson, your honour," said a ragged ruffian, nudging me by the elbow.
" Reilly, sir ; isn't it ? It's me, sir — the Club. I'm the man always drives your honour."
" Arrah, howld your prate," said a deep voice, " the gentleman hasn't time to bless himself."
" It's me, sir ; Owen Dalj', that has the black horse."
" More, by token, with a spavin," whispered another, while a roar of laughter followed the joke.
" A car, sir — take you up in five minutes."
" A chaise, your honour — do the thing dacently."
Now, whether my hesitation at this moment was set down by the crowd of my solicitors to some doubt of my solvency or not, I cannot say ; but true it is, their tone of obsequious entreaty gradually changed into one of rather caustic criticism.
" Maybe it's a gossoon you'd like to carry the little trunk."
" Let him alone ; it's only a carpet-bag ; he'll carry it himself."
" Don't you see the gentleman would rather walk ; and as the night is fine, 'tis pleasanter — and — cheaper."
" Take you for a fipp'ny bit and a glass of sparits," said a gruif voice in my ear.
By this time I had collected my luggage together, whose imposing appearance seemed once more to testify in my favour, particularly the case of my cocked hat, which to my ready-witted acquaintances j)ro- claimed me a military man. A general rush was accordingly made upon my luggage ; and while one man armed himself with a port- manteau, another laid hands on a trunk, a third a carjjet-bag, a fom*th a gun-case, and so on, imtil I found myself keeping watch and ward over my epaulet-case and my umbrella, the sole remnant of my effects. At the same moment a biu-st of laughter and a half shout broke from
' . '^/i'e.lz^a'^///^
■'/7<7
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 13
the crowd, and a huge powerful fellow jumped on the deck, and, seizing me by the arm, cried out —
" Come along now, captain . It's all right. This way — this way,
sir."
" But why am I to go with you ?" said I, vainly struggling to escape his grasp.
" Why is it ?" said he, with a chuckling laugh ; " reason enough — didn't we toss up for ye, and didn't I win ye."
" Win me !"
" Ay ; just that same."
By this time I foimd myself beside a car, upon which all my lug- gage was already placed.
" Get up now," said he.
" It's a beautiful car, and a dhry cushion," added a voice near, to the manifest mirth of the bystanders.
Delighted to escape my tormentors, I sprang up opposite to him, while a cheer, mad and wild enough for a tribe of Iroquois, yelled behind us. Away we rattled over the pavement, without lamp or lantern to guide our path, while the sea dashed its foam across our faces, and the rain beat in torrents upon our backs.
" Where to, captain ?" inquired my companion, as he plied his whip without ceasing.
" The Castle ; you know where that is ?"
" Faix I ought," was the reply. Ain't I there at the levees. But howld fast, your honour; the road isn't good; and there is a hole somewhere hereabouts."
" A hole ! For heaven's sake, take care. Do you know where it is ?"
" Begorra, you're in it," w^as the answer ; and, as he spoke, the horse went down head foremost, the car after him ; away flew the driver on one side, while I myself was shot some half-dozen yards on the other, a perfect avalanche of trunks, boxes, and valises, rattling about my doomed head. A crashing shower of kicks, the noise of the flying splinters, and the imprecations of the carman, were the last sounds I heard, as a heavy imperial full of books struck me on the head, and laid me prostrate.
Through my half-consciousness, I could still feel the rain as it fell in sheets ; the heavy plash of the sea soimded in my ears ; but, some- how, a feeling like sleepiness crept over me, and I became insensible.
14 OUR MESS.
CHAPTER III.
THE CASTLE.
When I next came to my senses, I found myself lying upon a sofa in a large room, of which I appeared the only occupant. A confused and misty recollection of my accident, some scattered fragments of my voy- age, and a rather acliing sensation in my head, were the only impres- sions of wluch I was well conscious. The last evening I spent at home was full in my memory, and I could not help .tliinking over my poor mother's direful anticipations in my vain endeavours to penetrate wliat I felt had been a misfortune of some kind or other. The mystery was, however, too deep for my faculties ; and so, in despair of unravel- ing the past, I set myself to work to decipher the present. The room, I liave already said, was large ; and the ceUing, richly stuccoed and ornamented, spoke of a day whose architecture was of a grand and massive character. The fiu-niture, now old and time-worn, had once been handsome, even magnificent. Rich ciu-tains of heavy brocaded silk, with deep gold fringes, gorgeously-carved and gilded chairs, in the taste of Louis XV. ; marble consoles stood between the windows, and a mirror of gigantic proportions occupied the chimney-breast. Years and neglect had not only done their worst, but it was evident that the hand of devastation had also been at work. The marbles were cracked ; few of the chairs were available for use ; the massive lustre, intended to shine ^\'ith a resplendent glare of fifty wax-lights, was now made a resting-place for shakos, bear-skins, and foraging-caps ; an ominous- looking star in the looking-glass bore witness to the bullet of a pistol ; and the very Cupids carved upon the frame, who once were wont to smile blandly at each other, were now disfigured with cork mousta- choes, and one of them even carried a pair of spurs in his mouth. Swords, sashes, and sabretashes, spurs and shot-belts, with gims, fish- ing-tackle, and tandem whips, were hung here and there upon the w-alls, which themselves presented the strangest spectacle of all, there not being a portion of them unoccupied by caricature sketches, exe- cuted in every imaginable species of taste, style, and coloiu-ing. Here was a field-day in the park, in which it was easy to see the prominent figures were portraits : there an enormous nose, surmounted by a gre- nadier cap, was passing in review some trembling and terrified soldiers. In another, a commander-of-the-forces was seen galloping down the Lines, holding on by the pmnmel of the saddle. Over the sofa I occupied, a levee at the Castle was displa3'ed, in which, if the company were not villanously libelled, the viceroy had little reason to be proud of his
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 15
guests. There were also dinners at the Lodge ; guards relieved by wine-pimcheons dressed up like field-officers ; the whole accompanied by doggrel verses explanatory of the views.
The owner of this singular chamber had, however, not merely de- voted his walls to the purposes of an album, but he had also made them perform the part of a memorandum-book. Here were the " meets" of the Kildare and the Dubber for the month of INIarch ; there, the turn of duty for the garrison of Dublin, interspersed witli such fragments as the following : — Mem. — To dine at Mat Kean's on Tuesday, 4th
Not to pay Hennesy till he settles about the handicap To ask
Coiu"tenay for Fanny Burke's fan ; the same Fanny has pretty legs of
her own To tell Holmes to have nothing to do with Lanty Moore's
niece, in regard to a reason ! Five to two on Giles' two-year-old, if
Tom likes N.B. — The mare is a roarer A heavenly day,
what fim they must have ! — may the devil fire Tom O'Flaherty, or I would not be here now. These and a hundred other similar passages figured on every side, leaving me in a state of considerable mystification, not as to the character of my host, of wliich I could guess something, but as to the nature of his abode, which I could not imagine to be a barrack-room.
As I lay thus pondering, the door cautiously opened, and a figiure appeared, which, as I had abundant leisiu-e to examine it, and as the in- dividual is one who occasionally turns up in the course of my history, I may as well take the present opportunity of presenting to my reader. The man who entered, scarcely more than four feet and a half high, might be about sixty years of age. His head, enormously disproportioned to the rest of his figure, presented a nvunber of flat surfaces, as though nature had originally destined it for a crystal. Upon one of thes-e planes the eyes were set ; and although as far apart as possible, yet upon such terms of distance were they, that they never, even by an ac- cident, looked in the same direction. The nose was short and snubby; the nostrils wide and expanded, as if the feature had been pitched against the face in a moment of ill-temper, and flattened by the force. As for the mouth, it looked like the malicious gash of a blunt instru- ment, jagged, ragged, and uneven. It had not even the common-place advantage of being parallel to the horizon, but ran in an oblique direc- tion from right to left, enclosed between a parenthesis of the crankiest wrinkles that ever human cheek were creased by. The head would have been bald but for a scanty wig, technically called a " jasy," which, shrunk by time, now merely occupied the apex of the scalp, where it moved about with every action of the forehead and eyebrows, and was thus made to minister to the expression of a hmidred emotions that other men's wigs know nothing about. Truly, it was the strangest peruke that ever covered a himian cranimn. I do not believe that another like it ever existed. It had nothing in common with other wigs. It was like its owner, perfectly sni generis. It had not the easy flow and wavy curl of the old beau. It had not the methodical precision and rectilinear propriety of the elderly gentleman. It was not full, like a lawyer's, nor horse-shoed, like a bishop's. No. It was a cross-grained,
\(]
OVU MESS.
ill-tempered, ill-conditioned old scratch, that looked like nothing imder heaven save the liusk of a hedge-hog.
The dress of this strange figure, was a suit of very gorgeous light brown livery, with orange facings, a green i)lush waistcoat and shorts, frogged, flapped, and embroidered most lavishly with gold lace, silk stockings, with shoes, whose enormous buckles covered nearly the entire foot, and rivalled, hi their paste brilliancy, the piercing bright- ness of the wearer's eye. Having closed the door carefully behind him, he walked towards the chiimiey, with a certain air of solemn and imposing dignity that very nearly overcame all my efforts at serious-
ness ; his out-stretched and expanded hands, his averted toes and waddling gait, giving him a most distressing resemblance to the spread eagle of Prussia, had that respectable bird been pleased to take a pro- menade in a showy livery. Having snuffed the candles, and heljied himself to a pinch of snuff from a gold box on the mantel-piece, he stuck his arms, nearly to the elbows, in the ample pockets of his coat, and witli his head a little elevated, and liis under-lip slightly pro- truded, seemed to meditate upon the mutability of human affairs, and the vanity of all w orldly pursuits.
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 17
I coughed a couple of timee, to attract his attention, and, having succeeded in catcliing his eye, I begged, ha my blandest imaginable voice, to know where I was.
" Where are ye, is it ?" said he, repeating my question in a tone of the most sharp and querulous intonation, to which not even his brogue could lend one touch of softness. " Where are ye ? and where would you like to be ? or where would any one be that was disgracing himself, or blackguarding about the streets till he got his head cut and his clothes torn, but in Master Phil's room : devil other company it's used to. Well, well ! It is more like a watch-house nor a gentleman's parlour, the same room. It's little his father, the judge," — here he crossed himself piously — " it is little he thought the company his son would be keeping ; but it is no matter. I gave him warning last Tuesday, and with the blessin' o' God "
The remainder of this speech was lost in a low muttering grumble, which I afterwards learnt was his usual mamier of closing an oration. A few broken and indistinct phrases being only audible, such as — " Sarve you right," — " Fifty years in the family," — " Slaving like a negur,"— " Oh, the Turks ! the Haythens !"
Having waited what I deemed a reasonable time for his honest in- dignation to evaporate, I made another effort to ascertain who my host might be.
" Would you favoiu" me," said I, in a tone still more insinuating, " with the name of •"
" It's my name, ye want ? Oh, sorrow bit I am ashamed of it ! Little as you think of me, Cornelius Delany is as good a warrant for family, as many a one of the dirty spalpeens about the coort, that haven't a civiler word in their mouth than Cross Corny ! Bad luck to them for that same."
This honest admission as to the world's opinion of Mister Delany's character was so far satisfactory as it enabled me to see with whom I had to deal ; and, although for a moment or two it was a severe struggle to prevent myself bursting into laughter, I fortunately ob- tained the mastery, and once more returned to the charge.
" And now, Mister Delany, can you inform me how I came here ? I remember something of an accident on my landing ; but when, where, and how, I am totally ignorant."
" An accident !" said he, turning up his eyes, " an accident, indeed! that's what they always call it, when they \ATing off the rappers, or bate the watch : ye came here in a hackney-coach, with the police, as many a one came before you."
" But where am I ?" said I, impatiently
" In Dublm Castle ; bad luck to it for a riotous disorderly place."
" Well, well," said I, half angrily, " I want to know whose room is this ?"
" Captain O'Grady's ; — what have you to say agin the room ; — may- be you're used to worse. There now, that's what you got for that. I'm laving the place next week, but that's no rason "
MESS, NO. I. — VOL. I. C
18 OUR MESS.
Here be went off, diminuendo, again, with a few flying imprecations upon several things and persons unkno\\'n.
Mr. Delany now dived for a few seconds into a small pantry at the end of the room, from wliich he emerged with a tray between his hands, and two decanters under liis arms.
" Draw the little table this way," he cried, " more towards the fire ; for, av coorse, you're fresh and fastin' : there now, take the sherry from under my arm— the other's port : that was a ham, till Captain Mills cut it away, as ye see — there's a veal pie, and here's a cold grouse — and maybe you've eat worse before now — and will again, plaze God."
I assured him of the truth of his observation in a most conciliating tone.
" Oh, the devil fear ye," was the reply, while he murmured some- what lower — " the half of yees isn't used to meal twice in the week."
" Capital fare, tius, Mr. Delany," said I, as, half famished with long fasting, I helped myself a second time.
" You're eating as if you liked it," said he, with a shrug of his shoulders.
" Upon my word," said I, after throwing down a bumper of sherry, " that's a very pleasant glass of wine ; and, on the whole, I should say, there are worse places than this in the world."
A look of unutterable contempt — whether at me for my discovery, or at the opinion itself, I can't say — was the sole reply of my friend; who, at the same moment, presuming I had sufficient opportunities for tlie judgment I pronounced, replaced the decanters upon the tray, and disappeared with the entire in the most grave and solemn manner.
Repressing a very great inclination to laughtei', I sat still ; and a silence of a few moments ensued, when Mr. Delany walked towards the window, and, drawing aside the curtains, looked out. All was in darkness save on the opposite side of the court-yard, where a blaze of light fell upon the pavement from over the half shutters of an appa rently spacious apartment. " Ay, ay, there you go ; hip, hip, hurrah ! you waste more liquor every night than would float a lighter ; that's all you're good for, bad luck to your grace — making fun of the people, laughing and singing as if the potatoes wasn't two shillings a stone."
" What's going on there ?" said I.
" The ould work, nather more nor less. The lord liftinnant, and the bishops, and the jidges, and all the privy coimcillors roaring drunk. Listen to them. May I never if it isn't the dean's voice I hear — the ould beast ; he is singing ' The Night before Larry was stretched.' "
" That's a good fellow, Corny-^Mr. Delany I mean — do open the window for a little, and let's iiear them ?"
" It's a blessed night you'd have the window open to listen to a set of drunken devils : but here's Master Phil ; I know his step m ell. It's long before his father that's gone would come tearing up the stairs that way as if the bailifl's was after him ; rack and ruin, sorrow else, av I never got a place— the Haythins, the Turks."
Mr. Delany who, probably from motives of delicacy, wished to spare his master the pain of an interview, made his exit by one
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 19
door as lie came in at the other. I had barely time to see that the person before me was in every respect the very opposite of his follower, when he called out in a rich, mellow voice —
" All right again, I hope, Mr. Hinton ; it's the first moment I coidd get away ; we had a dinner at the Privy Council, and some of them are rather late sitters ; you're not hurt I trust ?"
" A little bruised or so, nothing more ; but, pray, how did I fall into such kind hands ?"
" Oh ! the watchman, it seems, could read, and, as your trunks were addressed to the Castle, they concluded you ought to go there also. You have despatches, haven't you ?"
" Yes," said I, producing the packet ; " when must they be delivered ?"
" Oh, at once. Do you think you could make a little change in 3'our dress, and manage to come over ? his grace always likes it better ; there's no stifihess, no formality whatever : most of the dinner-party have gone home ; there are only a few of the government people, the Duke's friends, remaining, and, besides, he's always kind and good- natured."
" I'll see what I can do," replied I, as I rose from the sofa ; " I put myself into your hands altogether."
" Well come along," said he : " you'll find every thing ready in this room. I hope that old villain has left hot water. Corny, Corny, I say ; confomid him, he's gone to bed I suppose."
Having no particular desire for Mr. Delany's attentions, I pre- vailed on his master not to dlstm'b him, and proceeded to make my toilette as well as I was able.
" Didn't that stupid scoimdrel come near you at all ?" cried O'Grady.
" Oh, yes, we have had a long interview ; but, somehow, I fear I did not succeed in gaining his good graces."
" The worst tempered old villain in Europe."
" Somewhat of a character, I take it."
" A crab-tree planted in a lime kiln, cranky and cross-grained ; but he is a legacy, almost the only one my father left me. I've done ray best to part v. ith him every day for the last twelve years, but he sticks to me like a poor relation, giving me warning every night of his life, and every morning kicking up such a row in the house that every one is persuaded I am beating him to a jelly before tiu-ning him out to starve iii the streets."
" Oh, the Haythins, the Tiu-ks," said I slily.
" Confomid it," cried he, " the old devil has been opening upon you already ; and yet, 'with all that, I' don't know how I should get on without Corny ; his gibes, his jeers, his everlasting ill-temper, his crankiness that never sleeps, seems to agree with me : the fact is, one enjoys the world from its contrasts. Tlie olive is a poor thing in itself, but it certainly improves the smack of your burgundy. In this way Corny Delany does me good service. Come, by Jove, you have no* been long dressing. This way: now follow me." So saying. Captain O'Grady led the way down the stairs to the piazza, following wiiich to the opposite side of the quadrangle we arrived at a brilliantly lighted hall, where several servants in full-dress liveries were in
20 OUB MESS.
waiting. Passing hastily through tliis, we mounted a handsome staircase, and, traversing several ante-chambers, at length arrived at one whose contiguity to the dinner-room I could guess at from the loud somid of many voices. " Wait one moment here," said my companion, "until I speak to his grace." He disappeared as he spoke, but before a minute had elapsed he was again beside me. " Come this way ; it's all right," said he. The next moment I foimd myself in the dinner-room.
The scene before me was altogether so different from Mhat I had expected, that for a moment or two I could scarce do auglit else than stand still to survey it. At a table which had been laid for about forty persons, scarcely more than a dozen were now present. Collected together at one end of the board the whole party were roaring with laughter at some story of a strange, melancholy-looking man, whose whining voice added indescribable ridiciUe to the drollery of his narrative. Gray-headed general officers, grave-looking divines, lynx- eyed lawyers, had all given way imder the irresistible impulse, and the very table shook \nth laughter.
" Mr. Hinton, your excellency," said O'Grady for the third time, while the Duke M'iped his eye with his napkin, and, pushing his chair a little back from the table, motioned me to approach.
" Ah, Hinton, glad to see you ; how is your father, a very old friend of mine, indeed, and Lady Charlotte — well, I hope? O'Grady tell^ me you've had an accident — something slight I trust. So these are the despatches." Here he broke the seal of the envelope and ran Ids eye over the contents. " There ; that's your concern." So saying, he pitched a letter across the table to a shrewd-looking personage in a horse-shoe wig. " They won't do it, dean, and we must wait. Ah ! — so they don't like my new commissioners ; but, Hinton, my boy, sit down. O'Grady, have you room there ? a glass of ^nne with you."
" Nothing the worse of your mishap, sir," said the melancholy- looking man who sat opposite to me.
I replied by briefly relating my accident.
" Strange enough," said he in a compassionate tone, " your head should have suffered : your countrymen generally fall upon their legs in Ireland." This was said with a sly look at the viceroy, who, deep in his despatches, paid no attention to the allusion.
" A very singular thing I must confess," said the duke laying down the paper. " This is the fourth time the bearer of despatches has met with an accident. If they don't run foul of a rock in the channel,* they are sure to have a delay on the pier."
" It is so natiu-al, my lord," said the gloomy man, "that the carriers should stop at the Pigeon-house."
" Do be quiet, Curran," cried the Duke, " and pass round the decan- ter, they'll not take the duty off claret it seems."
" And, Day, my lord, won't put the claret on duty ; he has kept the wine at his elbow for the last half hour. Upon my soul, your grace ought to knight him."
" Not even his excellency's habits," said a sharp, clever -looking man, " would excuse his converting Day into knight."
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 21
Amid a shower of smart, caustic, and witty sayings, droll stories, retort and repartee, the wine circulated freely from hand to hand; the presence of the Duke adding fresh impvdse to the sallies of fun and merriment around him. Anecdotes of the army, the bench, and the bar, poured in unceasingly, accompanied by rmining commentaries of the hearers, who never let slip an opportunity for a jest or a re- joinder. To me the most singidar feature of all this was, that no one seemed too old or too dignified, too high in station or too venerable from office, to join in this headlong current of conviviality : austere churchmen, erudite chief-justices, profound politicians, privy coimcil- lors, military officers of high rank and standing, were here all mixed up together into one strange medley, apparently bent on thro^Wng an air of ridicule over the graver business of life, and laughing alike at themselves and the world. Nothing was too grave for a jest, nothing too solemn for a sarcasm. All the soldier's experience of men and manners, all the lawyer's acuteness of perception and readiness of wit, all the politician's practised tact and habitual subtlety, were brought to bear u^jon the common topics of the day with such promp- titude and such power, that one knew not whether to be more struck by the mass of information they possessed, or by that strange fatality which could make men, so great and so gifted, satisfied to jest where they might be called on to judge.
Play and politics, wine and women, debts and duels, were discussed not only with an absence of all restraint, but with a deep knowledge of the world and a profound insight into the heart, which often im- parted to the careless and random speech the sharpness of the most cutting sarcasm. Personalities too were rife : no one spared his neigh- bour, for he did not expect mercy for himself; and the luckless wight who tripped in his narrative or stumbled in his story, was assailed on every side, until some happy expedient of his own, or some new victim being discovered, tlie attack would take another direction, and leave him once more at liberty. I feel how sadly inadequate I am to render even the faintest testimony to the talents of those, any one of whom, in after-Ufe, wouJd have been considered to have made the fortime of a dinner-party, and who now were met together, not in the careless ease and lounging indifference of relaxation, but in the open arena where wit met wit, and where even the most brilliant talker, the happiest relator, the qvuckest in sarcasm, and the readiest in reply, felt he had need of all his weapons to defend and protect him. This was no war of partisans, but a milee tournament, where each man rode down his neighbour, with no other reason for attack than the rent in his armour. Even the viceroy himself, who, as judge of the lists, might be supposed to enjoy an immunity, was not safe here, and many an arrow, apparently shot at an adversary, was sent quivering into his corslet.
As I watched with all the intense excitement of one to whom such a display was perfectly new, I could not help feeling how fortunate it was that the grave avocations and the venerable pursuits of the greater number of the party shoidd prevent this fire-work of wit from bursting into the blaze of open animosity. I hinted as much to my neighbour,
22 OUR MF.SS
O'Grady, v lio at once broke into a fit of laughter at my ignorance ; and I now learnt to my amazement that the Common Pleas had winged the Exchequer, that the attorney -general had pinked the Rolls, and, stranger than all, that the provost of the university himself had planted his man in the Phoenix.
"It is just as well for us," continued he in a whisper, "that the churchmen can't go out ; for the dean yonder can snuff a candle at twenty paces, and is rather a hot-tempered fellow to boot. But come, now ; his grace is about to rise. We have a field day to-morrow in the park, and break up somewhat earlier in consequence."
As it was now near two o'clock, I could see nothing to cavil at as to the earliness of the lioiu- ; although I freely confess, tired and ex- hausted as I felt, I could not contemplate the moment of separation witliout a sad foreboding tliat I ne'er should look upon the like again. Tlie party rose at tliis moment, and the duke, shaking hands cordially v.ith each person as he passed down, Avished us all a good-night. I followed with O'Grady and some others of the household, but when I readied the antechamber, my new friend volunteered liis services to see me to my quarters.
On traversing the lower castle-yard, we mounted an old-fashioned and ricketty stair, which conducted to a gloomy, ill-lighted corridor. I was too much fatigued, however, to be critical at the moment ; and 60, having thanked O'Grady for all his kindness, I threw off my clothes hastily, and before my head was well upon the pillow was eound asleep.
CHAPTER IV.
TIIE BREAKFAST.
There are few persons so unreflective as not to give way to a little self-examination, on waking, for the first time, in a strange place. The very objects about, are so many appeals to your ingenuity or to yoiu" memory, that you cannot fail asking yourself how you became ac(juainted with them : the present is thus made the herald of the I)ast, and it is difficult, when luiravelling the tangled web of doubt that assails you, not to think over the path by wliich you have been travelling.
As for me, scarcely were my eyes opened to the light, I had barely thrown one glance around my cold and comfortless chamber, when thoughts of home came rushing to my mind. The warm earnestness of my father, the timid dreads of my poor mother, rose up before me, as I felt myself, for the first time, alone in the world. The elevating
JACK IIINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 23
sense of heroism, that more or less bie.v\cl3 with every youiig man's dreams of life, gilds om- first journey from our father's roof. There is a feeling of freedom in being the arbiter of one's actions, to go where you wiU and when you will. TiU that moment the world has been a comparative blank : the trammels of school or the ties of tutor- ship have bound and restrained you. You have been living, as it were, within the rules of court — certain petty privileges permitted, certain small liberties allowed : but now you come forth disenchanted, disen- thralled, emancipated, free to come as to go ; a man in all the pleni- tude of his volition, and, better still, a man without the heavy depress- ing weight of responsibility that makes manhood less a blessing than a burden. The first burst of life is indeed a glorioufl tiling ; youth, health, hope, and confidence, have each a force and vigour they lose in after years. Life is then a splendid river, and we are swimming with the stream ; no adverse waves to weary, no billows to buffet us, we hold on our course rejoicing.
The sun was peering between the curtains of my window, and playing in fitful flashes on the old oak floor, as I lay thus ruminating and dreaming over the future. How many a resolve did I then make for my guidance ; how many an intention did I form ; how many a groxmdwork of principle did I lay down, with all the confidence of youth ! I fashioned to myself a world after my own notions ; in which I conjured up certain imaginary difl&culties, all of which were siu"- mounted by my admirable tact and consummate cleverness. I remem- bered how, at both Eton and Sandhurst, the Irish boy was generally made the subject of some jest or quiz, at one time for his accent, at another for his blunders. As a Guardsman, short as had bee"^ my ex- perience of the service, I could plainly see, that a certain it^definable tone of superiority was ever asserted towards our friends across the sea. A wide-sweeping prejudice whose limits were neither founded in reason, justice, or common sense, had thrown a certain air of under- valmng import over every one and every thing from tliat comitry Not only were its faidts and its follies heavily visited, but those acci- dental and trifling blemishes — those slight, and scarce perceptible de- viations from the arbitrary standard of fashion — were deemed the strong characteristics of the nation, and condemned accordingly ; while the slightest use of any exaggeration in speech — the commonest employment of a figure or a metaphor — the casual introduction of an anecdote or a repartee were all heavdly censured, and pronounced " so very Irish !" Let some fortune-hunter carry off" an heiress, let a lady trip over her train at the drawing-room, let a minister blunder in his mission, let a powder-magazine explode and blow up one half of the surroimding popvdation, there was but one expression to qualify all, " how Irish ! how very Irish !" The adjective had become one of depreciation, and an Irish lord, an Irish member, an Irish estate, and an Irish diamond, were held pretty much in the same estimation.
Reared in the very hotbed, the forcing-house of such exag- gerated prejudice, while imbibing a very sufficient contempt for every thing in that country, I obtained proportionably absiu-d notions of all tliat was English. Our prii<ciples may come from our fathers : our
24 OTJR MZS9.
prejudices certainly desceud from the femule branch. Now, my mother, notwithstanding the example of the Prince Kegent himself, whose chosen associates were Irish, was most thorougldy exclusive on tlus point. Slie would admit that a native of that country coiUd be invited to an evening party under extreme and urgent circumstances — that some brilliant orator, whose eloquence was at once the dread and the delight of the house — that some gifted poet, whose verses came home to the heart alike of prince and peasant — that the painter, whose canvas might stand unblushingly amid the greatest triumphs of art — could be asked to lionize for those cold and callous votaries of fashion, across the lake of whose stagnant nature no breath of feeling stirred, esteeming it the while, that in her card of invitation he was reaping the proudest proof of liis success ; but that such could be made acquain- tances or companions, could be regarded in the light of equals or in- timates, the thing never entered into her imagination, and she would as soon have made a confidant of the king of Kongo as a gentleman from Connaught.
Less for the purposes of dwelling upon my lady-mother's "Hibernian horrors," than of showing the school in which I was trained, I have made this somewhat lengthened exposi. It may, however, con- vey to my reader some faint impression of the feelings wliich animated me at the outset of my career in Ireland.
I have already mentioned the delight I experienced with the society at the viceroy's table. So much brilliancy, so much wit, so much of conver- sational power, until that moment I had no conception of. Now, however, while reflecting on it, I was actually astonished to find how far the whole scene contributed to the support of my ancient prejudices. I well knew that a party of the highest fmictionaries, bishops and law-officers of the crown, would not have conducted themselves in the same manner in England. I stopped not to inquire whether it was more the wit or the will that was wanting ; I did not dwell upon the fact, that tJie meeting was a purely convivial one, to which I was admitted by the kindness and condescension of the Duke ; but so easily ^\'ill a warped and bigoted impression find food for its indulgence, I only saw in the meeting an additional evidence of my early convictions. How far my theorising on this point might have led me — whether even- tually I should have come to the conclusion, tliat the Irish nation were lying in the darkest blindness of barbarism, while, by a special inter- vention of Providence, I was about to be erected into a species of double revolving light — it is difficult to say, when a tap at the door suddenly aroused me from my musings.
" Are ye awake, yet ?" said a harsh husky voice, like a bear in bron- chitis, which I had no difficulty in pronouncing to be Corny's.
" Yes, come in," cried I ; " what hour is it ?"
" Somewhere after ten," replied he, sidkily : " you're the first I ever heerd ask the clock, in the eight years I have lived here. Are ye ready for your morning ?"
" My wliat ?" said I, with some surprise.
" Didn't I say it, plain enough ? Is it the brogue that bothers you ?''
As he said this with a most sarcastic grin, he poiured, from a large
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 25
jug he held in one hand, a brimming goblet full of some white com- pound, and handed it over to me. Preferring at once to explore, rather than to question the intractable Corny, I put it to my lips, and foimd it to be capital milk punch, concocted with great skill, and seasoned with what O' Grady afterwards called, " a notion of nutmeg."
" Oh ! devil fear you, that ye'll like ift Sorrow one of you ever left as much in the jug as 'ud make a foot-bath for a f^ea."
" They don't treat you over well, then, Corny," said I, purposely opening the sorest woimd of his nature.
" Trate me well ! faix, them that 'ud come here for good tratement, would go to the devil for divarsion. There's Master Phil himself, that I used to bate, when he was a child, many's the time when his father, rest his sowl, was up at the coorts, — ay, strapped him, till he hadn't a spot that wasn't sore an him. And look at him now ; oh, mrra ! you'd think I never took a ha'porth of pains with him. Ugh! — the Haythens — the Turks ! "
" This is all very bad, Corny ; hand me those boots."
" And thim's boots !" said he, A^ith a contemptuous expression on his face that would have struck horror to the heart of Hoby. "Well, well." Here he looked up as though the profligacy and degeneracy of the age were transgressing all boimds. " When you're ready, come over to tlie master's, for he's waiting breakfast for you. A beautiful hour for breakfast, it is ! Many's the day his father sintenced a whole dock full before the same time I"
With the comforting reflection that the world went better in his youth. Corny drained the few remaining drops of the jug, and, mutter- ing the while something that did not sound exactly like a blessing, waddled out of the room with a gait of the most imposing gravity.
I had very little difficulty in finding my friend's quarters ; for, as his door lay open, and as he himself was caroling away, at the very top of his lungs, some popular melody of the day, I speedily found myseH" beyond the threshold.
" Ah ! Hint on, my hearty, how goes it ; your head-piece nothing the worse, I hope, for either the car or the claret ? By the by, capital claret that is ; you've nothing like it in England."
I could scarce help a smile at the remark, as he proceeded,
' liut come, my boy, sit down ; help yourself to a cutlet, and make yourself quite at home in Mount O'Grady."
" Mount O'Grady !" repeated I. " Ha ! in allusion, I suppose, to these oonfoimded two flights one has to climb up to you."
" Nothing of the kind ; the name has a very different origin. Tea or coffee ? there's the congou. Now, my boy, the fact is, we O'Gradys were once upon a time very great folk in our way ; lived in an micouth old barrack, with battlements and a keep, upon tlie Shannon, where we ravaged the country for miles round, and did as much miscliief, and committed as much pillage upon the peaceable inhabitants, as any respectable old family in the province. Time, however, wagged on ; luck changed ; your countrymen came pouring in upon us with new-fangled notions of reading, writing, and road- making ; police and petty sessions, and a thousand other vexatious
26 oim Mi:ss.
contrivances fiallowed, to worry aiid puzzle the heads of simple country gentlemen ; so that, at last, instead of taking to the hill side for our nmtton, we were reduced to keej) a market-cart, and employ a thieving rogue in Dublin to supply us with poor chiret, instead of making a trip over to Galway, where a smuggling craft brought us our lush, with a bouquet fresh from "Bordeaux. But the worst wasn't come ; for you see, a l^Jigious spirit grew up in the country, and a kind of vindictive habit of piu-suing you for your debts. Now, we always contrived, somehow or other, to have tather a confused way of managing oiu- exchequer. No tenant on the property ever precisely knew what he owed ; and, as we possessed no record of what he paid, our income was rather obtained after the manner of levying a tribute, than receiving a legal debt. Meanwhile, we pushed our credit like a new colony : whenever a loan was to be obtained, it was little we cared for ten, twelve, or even fifteen per cent. ; and, as we kept a jolly house, a good cook, good claret, and had the best pack of beagles in the country, he'd have been a hardy creditor w ho'd have ventm-ed to push us to extremities. Even sheep, however, they say, get courage when they flock together, and so this contemptible herd of tailors, tithe-proctors, butchers, barristers, and bootmakers, took heart of grace, and laid siege to us in all form. My grandfather, Phil, — for I was called after him, — who always spent his money like a gentleman, had no notion of figuring in the Four Courts ; but he sent Tom Darcy, his cousin, up to town, to call out as many of the plaintiffs as would fight, and to threaten the remainder that, if they did not withdraw their suits, they'd have more need of the surgeon than the attorney-general ; for they shouldn't have a whole bone in their body by Michaelmas- day. Another cutlet, Hinton ; but I am tiring you with all these family matters."
" Not at all ; go on, I beg of you. I want to hear how your grand- father got out of his difliculties."
" Faith, I wish you could ; it would be equally pleasant news to myself; but, unfortunately, his beautiful plan only made bad worse, for they began fresh actions. Some, for provocation to fight a duel ; others, for threats of assault and battery ; and the short of it was, as my grandfather wouldn't enter a defence, they obtained their verdicts, and got judgment, with all the costs."
" The devil ! they did ; that must have pushed him hard."
" So it did ; indeed it got the better of his temper, and he that was one of the heartiest, pleasantest fellows in the province, became in a manner, morose and silent ; and, instead of surrendering possession, peaceably and quietly, he went down to the gate, and took a sitting shot at the sub-sheriff, who was there in a tax-cart."
" Bless my soul ! Did he kill him ?"
" No ; he only ruffled his feathers, and broke his thigh ; but it was bad enough, for he had to go over to France, till it blew over. Well, it was either vexation or the climate, or, maybe, the weak wines, or, perhaj)?, all three, undermined his constitution, but he died at eighty-four, — the only one of (lie family ever cut off early, excc[>t such as were shot, or the like."
JACK HIKTON, THK GUAKDSMAN. 27
Well, but your fatlier-
" I am coming to him. My grandfather sent for him from school when he was dying, and he made him swear he would be a lawyer. * Morris will be a thorn in their flesh, yet,' said he ; ' and look to it, my boy,' he cried, ' I leave you a Chancery suit that has nearly broke eight families and the hearts of two chancellors ;-^see that you keep it going — sell every stick on the estate — put all the beggars in tj;ie barony on the property, — beg, borrow, and steal them, — plough up all the grazing- land ; and I'll tell you a better trick than all ' Here a fit of cough- ing interrupted the pious old gentleman, and, when it was over, so was he !"
" Dead I" said I.
" As a door-nail ! — Well, my father was dutiful ; he kept the suit moving till he got called to the Bar ! Once there, he gave it all his spare moments ; and when there was nothing doing in the Common Pleas or King's Bench, he was sure to come down with a new bill, or a declaration, before the Master, or a wTit of error or a point of law for a jury, till at last, when no case was ready to come on, the sitting judge would call out, — let us hear O'Grady, — in appeal, or in error, or whatever it was. But, to make my story short, my father became a first-rate la^'yer, by the practice of his own suit, — rose to a silk- gown, — was made solicitor and attorney-general, — afterwards, chief- justice "
"And the suit "
" Oh ! the suit smrvived him, and became my property ; but, some- how, I didn't succeed in the management quite as well as my father ; and I found that my estate cost me somewhere about fifteen himdred a year — not to mention more oaths than fifty years of purgatory could pay off. This was a high premium to pay for figuring every term on the list of trials, so I raised a thousand pounds on my commission, gave it to Nick M'Namara, to take the property off my hands, and, as my father's last injunction was, never rest till you sleep in Mount O'Grady, — why I just baptized m.y present abode by that name, and here I live with the easy conscience of a dutiful and affectionate child that took the shortest and speediest way of fulfilling his father's testament."'
" By Jove ! a most singular narrative. I shouldn't like to have parted with the old place, however.''
" Faith, I don't know ; I never was much there. It was a racketty, tumble-down old concern, with rattling windows, rooks, and rats, pretty much like this ; and, what between my duns and Corny Delany, I very often think I am back there again. There wasn't as good a room as this in the whole house, not to speak of the pictures. Isn't that likeness of Darcy capital ? You saw him last night. He sat next Curran. Come, I've no Curajoa to offer you, but try this Usquebaugh."
"By the by, that Corny is a strange character. I rather think, if I were you, I should have let him go with the property."
" I>et him go ! 'Egad, that's not so easy as you think. Nothing but death will ever part us,"
26 OUR MESS.
" I really cannot comprehend how you endure him ; he'd drive me mad."
" Well, he very often pushes me a little hard or so ; and, if it wasn't that, by deep study and minute attention, I have at length got some insight into the weak, parts of his nature, I frankly confess I couldn't endure it much longer."
" And, pray, what may these amiable traits be ?"
" You will scarcely guess."
" Love of money, perhaps?"
« No."
" Attachment to your family, then?"
*' Not that either."
" I give it up."
" Well, the truth is, Corny is a most pious Catholic. The church has imbounded influence and control over all his actions. Secondly, he is a devout believer in ghosts, particularly my grandfather's, which, I must confess, I have personated two or three times myself, when his temper had nearly tortured me into a brain fever ; so that between purgatory and apparitions, fears here and hereafter, I keep him pretty busy. There's a friend of mine, a priest, one Father Tom Loftus" —
" I've heard that name before somewhere."
" Scarcely, I think ; I'm not aware that he was ever in England : but he's a glorious fellow ; I'll make you knoA^Ti to him one of these days ; and, when you have seen a little more of Ireland, I am certain you'll like him. But I'm forgetting ; it must be late ; we have a field- day, you know, in the Park.
" What am I to do for a mount : I've brought no horses \\ith me."
" Oh, I've arranged all that. See, there are the nags already : that dark chestnut I destine for you : and, come along, v,e have no time to lose ; there go tlie carriages, and here comes our worthy confrere and fellow aid-de-camp ; do you know Mm ?
" Who is it, pray ?"
*' Lord Dudley De Vere, the most confounded puppy, and the emptiest ass But here he is."
" De Vere, my friend, Mr. Hinton. One of ours."
His lordship raised his delicate-looking eye-brows, as high as he was able, letting fall his glass at the same moment from the corner of his eye; and, while he adjusted his stock at the glass, lisped out,
« Ah — yes — very happy. In the Guards, I tliink. Know Douglas, don't you?"
" Yes, very slightly."
" When did you come — to-day ?'
" No, last night."
" Must have got a buffeting ; blew very fresh. You don't happen to know the odds on the Oaks?"
" Hecate, they say, is falling. I rather heard a good accoimt of the mare."
" Indeed," said he, while his cold inanimate features brightened up with a momentary flush of excitement. " Take you five to two, or give you the odds, you don't name the \\inn'.T on the double event."
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN.
29
A look from O' Grady decided me at once on declining the pre- ferred wager ; and his lordship once more returned to the mirror and his self-admiration.
"^I say, O' Grady, do come here for a minute. Wliat the deuce can that be ?"
Here an immoderate fit of laughter from his lordship brought us both to the window. The figure to which his attention was directed was certainly not a little remarkable. Mounted upon an animal of the
smallest possible dimensions, sat, or rather stood, the figure of a tall gaunt, raw-boned looking man, in a livery of the gaudiest blue and yellow, his hat garnished with silver lace, while long tags of the same material were festooned gracefully from his shoulder to his breast ; his feet nearly touched the groimd, and gave him rather the appear- ance of one progressing with a pony between his legs, than of a figure on horseback : he carried under one arm a leather pocket, like a despatch bag ; and, as he sauntered slowly about, with his eyes directed hither and thither, seemed like some one in search of some unknown locality.
30 OUR MESS.
The roar of laughter which issued from our window, drew his atten- tion to that quarter, and he immediately touched his hat, Mhilo a look of pleased recognition played across his countenance.
" Holloa ! Tim," cried O' Grady, " what's in the wind now ?"
Tim's answer was inaudible ; but inserting his hand into the leathern oonveniency already mentioned, he drew forth a card of most porten- tous dimensions. By this time Corny's voice could be heard joining the conversation.
" Arrah, give it here, and don't be making a baste of yourself. Isn't the very battle-axe guards laughing at you? I'm sure I wonder how a Christian would make a merry-andrew of himself by wearing such clothes ; you're more like a play-actor nor a respectable servant."
With these words he snatched, rather than accepted, the proffered card ; and Tim, with another flourish of his hat, and a singularly droll grin, meant to convey his appreciation of cross Corny, plunged the spurs till his legs met under the belly of the little animal, and cantered out of the com-t-yard amid the laughter of the b3'standers, in which even the sentinels on duty could not refrain from parti- cipating.
" What the devil can it be ?" cried Lord Dudley ; " he evidently knows you, O' Grady."
" And you, too, my lord ; his master has helped you to a cool hundred or two more than once before now."
" Eh — what — you don't say so! Not our worthy friend Paul — eh ? Why, confound it, I never should have known Timothy in that dress."
" No !" said O' Grady, slily; " I acknowledge it is not exactly his costume, when he serves a latitat."
" Ah, ha," cried the other, trying to laugh at the joke, which he felt too deeply, " I thought I knew the pony, though. Old three-and- fourpence ; his infernal canter always sounds in my ears like the jargon of a bill of costs."
" Here comes Corny," said O' Grady. "Wliat have you got there?"
*' There 'tis for you," replied he, throwing, with an air of the most profound disdain, a large card upon the table ; while, as he left the room, he muttered some very sagacious reflections about the horrors of low company — his father, the judge — the best in the land — riotous disorderly life :" the whole concluded with an imprecation upon Heathens and Turks, with which he managed to accomplish his exit.
" Capital, by Jove," said Lord Dudley, as he sm-veyed the card with his glass. " Mr. and Mrs. Paul Rooney presents — the devil they does — presents their compliments, and requests the honour of Captain O' Grady's company at dinner on Friday, the 8th, at half -past seven o'clock."
"How good! glorious, by Jove ! Eh, O' Grady? you are a sure ticket there ; Vami de la maison ?"
O'Grady's cheek became red at these words ; and a flashing expres- sion in his eyes told how deeply he felt them. He turned sharply roimd, his lip quivering with passion ; then checking Ijgpiself suddenly, he burst into an affected laugh.
JACK IIINTON, THE GUABDSMAN. 31
" You'll go too, Mon't you ?"
" I ? No, faith ; they caught me once ; but then the fact was, a protest and an invitation were both served on me together. I couldn't accept one, so I did the other."
" Well, I must confess," said O' Grady, in a firm resolute tone, " there may be many more fashionable people than oiu- friends ; but I, for one, scruple not to say, I have received many kindnesses from them, and am deeply, sincerely grateful."
" As far as doing a bit of paper now and then, when one is hard up," said Lord Dudley, " why, perhaps, I'm somewhat of your mind ; but, if one must take tJie discount out in dinners, it's an infernal bore."
" And yet," said O' Grady, maliciou^sly, " I've seen your lordship tax your powers to play the agreeable at these same dinners ; and I think your memory betrays you in supposing you have only been there once. I, myself, haA'e met you at least four times."
" Only shows how devilish hard up I must have been," was the cool reply ; " but now, as the governor begins to behave better, 1 think I'll cut Paul."
" I'm certain you will," said O' Grady, with an emphasis that could not be mistaken : " but come, Hinton, we had better be moving ; there's some stir at the portico yonder ; I suppose they're coming."
At this moment the tramp of cavalry announced the arrival of the guard of honoiu* ; the drums beat ; the troops stood to arms, and we had barely time to mount our horses, when the viceregal party took their places in the carriages, and we all set out for the Phcenix.
" Confess, Hinton : it is worth while being a soldier to be in Ireland." This was O'Grady's observation as we rode down Parliament-street, beside the carriage of the viceroy. It was the first occasion of a field- day since the arrival of liis excellency, and all Dublin was on the tip- toe of expectation at the prospect. Handkerchiefs were waved from the windows ; streamers and banners floated from the house-tops ; pa- triotic devices and allegoric representations of Erin sitting at a plenti- ful board, opposite an elderly gentleman with a ducal coronet, met us at every turn of the way. The streets were literally crammed with people. The band played Patrick's-day. The mob shouted. His grace bov/ed, and, down to Phil O' Grady himself, who winked at the pretty girls as he passed, there did not seem an imoccupied man in the whole procession. On we went, following the line of the quays, threading our way through a bare-legged ragged population, bawling themselves hoarse with energetic desires for prosperity to Ireland. Yes, thought I, as I looked upon the worn dilapidated houses, the faded and bygone equipages, the tarnished finery of better days — yes, my father was right, these people are very different from their neighbours ; their very prosperity has an air quite peculiar to itself. Every thing attested a state of poverty, a lack of trade, a want of comfort and of cleanliness ; but still there was but one expression prevalent in the mass, — that of unbounded good-humour and gaiety. With a philosophy quite his own, poor Paddy seemed to feel a reflected pleasure from the supposed hap- piness of those around him. The fir-e clothes, the gorgeous equipages,
32 OCR MESS.
the prancing chargers, the flowing plumes — all, in fact, tnat forms the appurtenances of wealth, constituting in his mind a kind of paradise on earth. He thought their possessors at least ought to be hapj))-, and, like a good-hearted fellow, he was glad of it for their sakes.
There had been in tlie early part of the day an abortive effort at a procession. The Lord JMayor and the Sheriffs, in their state liveries, had gone forth with a proud following of their fellow-citizens ; but a manoeuvre, which hitherto had been supposed exclusively the province of the navy, was here employed with unbounded success ; and the hackney coachmen, by " cutting the line" in several places, had com- pletely disorganized the procession, which now presented the singular spectacle of an aldcrmanic fimctionary with emblazoned panels and bedizened horses, followed by a string of racketty jaunting-cars, or a noddy with its fourteen insides. Horsemen there were, too, in abun- dance. Were I to judge from the spectacle before me, I should say that the Irish were the most equestrian peoplQ of the globe ; and at what a pace they went ! Caring little or notliing for the foot-pas- sengers, they only drew rein when their blown steeds were unable to go further, and then dashed onwards like a charge, amid a sliower of oaths, curses, and imprecations, half drowned in the laughter that burst on every side. Deputations there were also from various branches of trade, entreating their graces to wear and to patronize the manufacture of the country, and to conform in many respects to its habits and cus- toms : by all of which, in my then ignorance, I could only miderstand the vehement desire of the population that the viceregal court should go about in a state of nature, and limit their diet to poteen and pota- toes."
" Fine sight this, Hinton! Isn't it cheering?" said O'Grady, as his eye beamed with pleasure and delight.
" Why, yes," said I, hesitatingly ; " but don't you think if they wore shoes "
" Shoes !" repeated he contemptuously, " they'd never suffer such re- strictions on their liberties. Look at them ! they are the fellows to make soldiers of! The only fear of half rations with them wovdd be the risk of indigestion."
On we went, a strange and motley mass ; the only grave faces being a few of those who sat in gilded coaches, with embroidered hammer- cloths ; while every half-naked figiu-e that flitted past, had a counte- nance of reckless jollity and fun. But the same discrepancy that pervaded the people and the procession, was visible even in their dwellings ; and the meanest hovels stood side by side with the public aiid private edifices of elegance and beauty.
" This, certainly," thought I, " is a strange land." A reflection I had reason to recur to more than once in ray after experience of Ire- land.
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 33
CHAPTER V
THE REVIEW IN THE PHCENIX.
Winding along the quays, we crossed an old and dilapidated bridge ; and after traversing some narrow and ruinous-looking streets, we entered the Park, and at length reached the Fifteen Acres.
The carriages were drawn up in line; his Grace's led horses were ordered up, and staff-officers galloped right and left to annovmce the orders for the troops to stand to arms.
As the Duke descended from his carriage he caught my eye, and tm'uing suddenly towards the Duchess, said, " Let me present Mr. Hinton to your Grace."
While I was making my bows and acknowledgments his Grace put his hand upon my arm.
" You know Lady Killimore, Hinton? Never mind, it's of no conse- quence. You see her carriage yonder — they have made some blunder in the road, and the dragoons, it seems, won't let them pass. Just canter down and rescue them."
" Do, pray, Mr. Hinton," added the Duchess. " Poor Lady Killi- more is so very nervous, she'll be terrified to death if they make any fuss. Her carriage can come up quite close ; there is plenty of room."
" Now do it well," whispered O'Grady : " there is a pretty girl in the case ; it's your first mission ; acquit yourself with credit."
An infernal brass band playing " Rule Britannia" within ten paces of me, the buzz of voices, the crowd, the novelty of the situation, the excitement of the moment, all conspired to addle and confuse me ; so that when I put spurs to my horse and struck out into a gallop, I had no very precise idea of what I was to do, and not the slightest upon earth of wliere I was to do it.
A pretty girl in a carriage beset by dragoons was to be looked for —
Lady Kil somebody's equipage — " Oh ! I have it ; there they are,"
said I, as a yellow barouche, with four steaming posters, caught my eye in a far part of the field. From the number of dragoons that surrounded the carriage, no less than their violent gestures, 1 coidd perceive that an altercation had taken place ; pressing my horse to the top of his speed, I flew across the plain, and arrived flushed, heated, and breath- less beside the carriage.
A large and strikingly handsome woman in a bonnet and plumes of the most gaudy and showy character, was standing upon the front seat, and carrying on an active, and, as it seemed, acrimonious controversy witli the Serjeant of the horse police.
" You must go back— can't help it, ma'am — nothing but members of the household can pass this way "
MESS, NO. II VOL,. I. D
31 OTTR MFSS.
" O dear ! wliere's Captain O'Grady ? — sure it's not possible I could be treated tliis way. Paul, take that man's name, and mind you liave him dismissed in the morning. Where are you, Paul? Ah! he's gone. It is the way-with him always ; and there you sit. Bob Dwyer, and you are no more good than a stick of sealing-wax!"
Here a suppressed titter of laughter from the back of the carriage induced me to turn my eyes in tluit direction, and I beheld one of the most beautiful girls I ever looked at, holding her handkerchief to her mouth to conceal her laughter. Her dark eyes flashed, and her fea- tures sparkled, while a blush, at being so discovered, if possible, added to her beauty.
All right, said I to myself, as taking off my hat I bowed to the very mane of my horse.
" If your ladyship will kindly permit me," said I, " his Grace has sent me to sliow you the way."
The dragoons fell back as I spoke ; the horse police looked awfully frightened ; while the lady whose late eloquence manifested little of fear or trepidation, threw herself back in the carriage, and, covering her face with a handkerchief, sobbed violently.
" Ah, the Duchess said she was nervous. Poor Lady Kil ."
" Speak to me, Louisa dear. Who is it ? Is it Mr. Wellesley Pola ? Is it ?"
I did not wait for a further supposition ; but in a most insinuat- ing voice, added,
" Mr. Hinton, my lady, extra aid-de-camp on his excellency's staff. The Duchess feared you would be nervous, and hopes you'll get as close to her as possible."
" Where's Paul ?" said the lady, once more recovering her animation. '• If this is a hoax, young gentleman ."
" IMadam," said I, bowing stiffly, " I am really at a loss to under- stand your meaning."
" O' forgive mo, Mr. Hilton."
" Hinton, my lady."
" Yes, Hinton," said she. " I am a beast to mistrust you, and you so young and so artless ; the sweetest blue eyes I ever looked at."
This was said in a whisper to her young friend, whose mirth now threatened to burst forth.
" And was it really his Royal Highness that sent you ?"
•' His Grace, my lady, I assure you, despatched me to your aid. He saw your carriage through his glass, and, guessing what had oc- curred, directed me to ride over and accompany your ladyship to the viceregal stand."
Poor Lady Kil 's nervousness again seized her, and, with a fainV
cry for the ever-absent Paul, she went off into rather smart hysterics. During this paroxysm I could not help feeling somewhat annoyed at the yoiuig lady's conduct, who, instead of evincing the slightest sym- pathy for her mother, held her head down, and seemed to shake with laughter. By this time, however, the postillions were again under wayj and, after ten minutes* sharp trotting, we entered the grand
JACK niNTON. THE GUARDSMAN. 35
stand, with whips cracking, ribbons fluttering, and I myself caracol- ing beside the carriage with an air of triumphant success.
A large dusky travelling carriage had meanwhile occupied the place the Duchess designed for her friend. Tlie only thing to do, therefore, was, to place them as conveniently as I could, and hasten back to in- form her Grace of the success of my mission. As I approached her carriage I was saluted by a burst of laugliter from the staff, in which the Duke himself joined most extravagantly ; while O' Grady, with his hands on his sides, threatened to fall from the saddle.
" What the deuce is the matter ?" thought I ; "I didn't bungle it ?"
" TeU her Grace," said the Duke, with his hand upon his mouth, miable to finish tlie sentence with laughter.
I saw something was wrong, and that I was in some infernal scrape : still, resolved to go througli with it, I drew near, and said,
" I am happy to inform your Grace, that "
" Lady Kil is here," said the Duchess, bowing haughtily, as she
tm'ned towards a spiteful-looking dowager, beside her
Here was a mess ! So bowing and backing, I dropped through the cro\i d to Mdiere my companions still stood convulsed with merri- ment.
" What, in the devil's name, is it ?" said I to O'Grady. " Whom have I been escorting this half hour ?"
" You've immortaUzed yourself," said O'Grady, with a roar of laughter. " Your bill at twelve months for five hundred pomids is as good this nioment as bank paper."
" What is it ?" said I, losing all patience. " Who is she ?"
" Mrs. Paid Rooney, my boy, the gem of attorneys' wives, the glory of Stephen's-green, with a villa at Bray, a box at the theatre, champagne suppers every night in the week, dinners promiscuously, and lunch a discretion : there's glory for you. You may laugh at a latitat, sneer at the King's Bench, and snap your fingers at any process- server from here to Kilmainham !"
" May the devil fly away with her !" said I, wiping my forehead with passion and excitement.
" The heavens forbid !" said O'Grady piously. " Our exchequer may be guilty of many an extravagance, but it could not permit such a flight as that. It is evident, Hinton, that you did not see the pretty girl beside her in the carriage."
" Yes, yes, I saw her," said I, biting my lip with impatience, " and she seemed evidently enjoying the infernal blunder I was committing. And Mrs. Paid — oh, confound her ! I can never endure the sight of her again!"
" My dear yomig friend," replied O'Grady, with an affected seri- ousness, " I see that already the prejudices of your very silly country- men have worked their effect upon you. Had not Lord Dudley de Vere given you such a picture of the Rooney family, you would pro- bably be much more lenient in your judgment : besides, after all, the error was yours, not hers. You told her that the Duke had sent you ; you told her the Duchess wished her carriage beside her own."
36 OUB MESS.
" You take a singular mode," said I, pettishly, " to bring a man back to a good temper, by showing him that he has no one to blame for his misfortunes but liimself. Confound them : look how they are all laughing about us. Indeed from tlie little I've seen, it is the only thing they appear to do in this country."
At a signal from the Duke, O'Grady put spurs to his horse and cantered down the line, leaving me to such reflections as I could form, beneath the gaze of some forty persons, who could not turn to look, without laughing at me.
Tlus is pleasant, thought I, this is really a happy debut : thai I, whose unimpeachable accuracy of manner and address should hav*^ won for me, at the prince's levee, the approbation of the first gen'^^.e- man of Europe, should here, among these semi-civilized savages, be- come an object of ridicule and laughter. My father told me thej' were very different ; and my mother — I had not patience to think of the frightful effects my absurd situation might produce upon her nerves. Lady Julia too — ah ! there's the rub — my beautiful cousin ; who, in the slightest solecism of London manners, could find matter for sar- casm and raillery. What would she think of me now ? and this it is, they persuaded me to prefer to active service. What wound to a man's flesh could equal one to his feelings ? I would rather be condoled with, than scoffed at, any day ; and see ! by Jove, they're laughing still. I •would wager a fifty, that I furnish the dinner conversation for every table in the capital this day.
The vine twig shows not more ingenuity, as it traverses some rocky crag in search of the cool stream, at once its luxury and its life, than does our injured self-love, in seeking for consolation from the inevitable casualties of fate, and the irresistible strokes of fortune ! Thus I foujid comfort in the tliought, that the ridicule attached to me, rather pro- ceeded from the low standard of manners and habits about me, than from any thing positively absurd in my position ; and, in my warped and biassed imagination, I actually preferred the insolent insipidity of Lord Dudley de Vere to the hearty raciness and laughter-loving spirit of Phil O'Grady.
My reflections were now cut short by the order for the staff to mount, and, following the current of my present feelings, I drew near to Lord Dudley, in Mhose emptiness and inanity I felt a degree of security from sarcasm, that I could by no means be so confident of in O'Grady's company.
Amid the thimder of cannon, the deafening roll of drums, the tramp of cavalry, and the measvu"ed foot-fall of the infantry colimms, these thoughts rapidly gave way to others, and I soon forgot myself in the scene around me. The sight, indeed, was an inspiriting one; for, although but the mockery of glorious war, to my unpractised eye the deception was delightful : the bracing air, the bright sky, the scenery itself, lent their aid, and, in the brilliant panorama before me, I soon regained my light-heartedness, and felt happy as before.
JACK. HIM'U«, XaE GUARDSMAN. 37
CHAPTER VI.
THE SHAM BATTLE.
I HAVE mentioned in my last chapter how very rapidly I forgot my troubles in the excitement of the scene around me. Indeed, thev must have been much more important, much deeper woes, to have occupied any place in a head so addled and confused as mine was. The ma- noeuvres of the day included a sham battle ; and scarcely had his ex- cellency passed down the line, when preparations for the engagement began. The heavy artillery was seen to limber up, and move slow ly across the field, accompanied by a strong detachment of cavalry ; co- lumns of infantry were marched hither and thither with the most press- ing and eager haste ; orderly dragoons and staff-officers galloped to and fro like madmen ; red-faced plethoric little colonels baw led out the word of command, till one feared they might burst a blood-vessel ; and already two companies of light infantry might be seen stealing cautiously along the skirts of the wood, with the apparently insidious design of attacking a brigade of guns. As for me, I was at one mo- ment employed carrying despatches to Sir Charles Asgill, at another conveying intelligence to Lord Harrington ; these, be it known, be- ing the rival commanders, whose powers of strategy were now^ to be tested before the assembled and discriminating citizens of Dublin. Not to speak of the eminent personal hazard of a service which required me constantly to ride between the lines of contending armies, the fatigue alone had nigh killed me. Scarcely did I appear breathless at head quarters on my return from one mission, when I was de- spatched on another. Tired and panting, I more than once bmigled my directions, and communicated to Sir Charles the secret intentions of his lordship, while with a laudable impartiality I disarranged the former's plans by a total misconception of the orders. Fatigue, noise, chagrin, and incessant worry, had so completely turned my head, that I became perfectly incapable of the commonest exercises of reason. Part of the artillery I ordered into a hollow, where I was told to sta- tion a party of riflemen. Three squadrons of cavalry I desired to charge up a hill, which the seventy-first highlanders were to have scrambled up if they were able. Light dragoons I posted in situations so beset with brushwood and firs, that all movement became impos- sible ; and, in a word, when the signal-gun announced the commence- ment of the action, my mistakes had introduced such a new feature into tactics, that neither party knew what his adversary was at, nor indeed had any accurate notion of which were his own troops. The Duke, who had watched with the most eager satisfaction the whole of my proceedings, sat laughing upon his horse till the very tears coursed
X'sli-i^'*-^'^-^
38 OCR MESS.
down his cheeks ; and as all the staff were more or less participators ia the secret, I foiiud myself once more the centre of a grinning audience, perfectly convulsed at my exploits. Meanwhile, the guns thundered, the cavalry charged, the infantry poured in a rattling roar of small arms ; while the luckless commanders, unable to discover any semblance of a plan, and still worse, not knowing where one half their forces were concealed, dared not adventure upon a movement, and pre- ferred trusting to the smoke of the battle as a cover for their blunders. The fusilade, therefore, was hotly sustained ; all the heavy pieces brought to the front ; and while the spectators were anxiously looking for the manoeuvres of a fight, the ammunition was waxing low, and the day wearing apace. Dissatisfaction at length began to show itself on every side ; and the Duke assuming, as well as he was able, some- what of a disappointed look, the unhappy generals made a final effort to retrieve their mishaps, and aids-de-camp were despatched through all the highways and byways, to bring up whoever they could find as quickly as jiossible. Now then began such a scene as few even of the oldest campaigners ever witnessed the equal of. From every dell and hollow, from every brake and thicket, burst forth some party or other, who up to this moment believed themselves lying in ambush. Horse, foot, and dragoons, artillery, sappers, light infantry, and grenadiers, rushed forward wherever chance or their bewildered officer led them. Here might be seen one half of a regiment blazing away at a stray company of their own people, running like devils for shelter ; here some squadrons of horse, who, indignant at their fruitless charges and unmeaning movements, now doggedly dismoimted, were standing right before a brigade of twelve-pounders, thundering mercilessly amongst them. Never was witnessed such a scene of riot, confusion, and dis- order. Colonels lost their regiments, regiments their colonels. The fusiliers captured the band of the Royal Irish, and made them play through the heat of the engagement. Those who at first expressed ennui and fatigue at the sameness and monotony of the scene, were now o-ratified to the utmost by its life, bustle, and animation. Elderly citizens in drab shorts and buff waistcoats, explained to their listening wives and urchins the plans and intentions of the rival heroes, pro- nouncing the wliole thing the while the very best field-day that ever was seen in the Phoenix.
In the midst of all this confusion, a hew element of discord suddenly displayed itself. That loyal corps, the Cork militia, who were ordered up to attack close to where the Duke and his staff were standing, deemed that no better moment could be chosen to exhibit their attach- ment to church and state than when marching on to glory, struck up with all the discord of their band, the redoubted air of " Protestant Boys." The cheer burst from the ranks as the loyal strains filled the air ; but scarcely had the loud burst subsided, when the Louth militia advanced with a quick step, their fifes playing " Vinegar-hill."
For a moment or two the rivalry created a perfect roar of laughter ; but this very soon gave way, as the two regiments, instead of drawing up at a reasonable distance for the interchange of an amicable blank
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 39
cartridge, rushed down vipon each other with the fury of madmen. So sudden, so impetuous was the encounter, all effort to prevent it was impracticable. Muskets were clubbed or bayonets fixed, and in a moment really serious battle was engaged ; the musicians on each side en- couraging their party, as they racked their brains for party-tunes of the most bitter and taunting character ; while cries of " Down with King William !" " To hell with the Pope !" rose alternately from either side.
How far this spirit might have extended, it is difficult to say, when the Duke gave orders for some squadrons of cavalry to charge down upon them, and separate the contending forces. This order was fortunately in time ; for scarcely was it issued, when a west country yeomanry corps came galloping up to the assistance of the brave Lou h.
" Here we are, boys !" cried Mike Westropp, their colonel. " Here we are ; lave tlie way ! lave the way for us ! and we'll ride down the murthering Orange villains, every man of tliem !
The Louth fell back, and the yeomen came forward at a charge ; Westropp standing high in his stirrups, and flourishing his sabre above his head. It was just then that a heavy brigade of artillery, un- conscious of the hot work going forward, was ordered to open their fire upon the Louth militia. One of the guns, by some accident, con- tained an undue proportion of wadding, and to this casual circum- stance may, in a great degree, be attributed the happy issue of what threatened to be a serious disturbance ; for, as Westropp advanced cheering and encouraging his men, he received this wadding slap in his face. Down he tumbled at once, rolling over and over with the shock ; while, believing that he had got his death-wound, he bellowed out,
" Oh ! blessed Virgin ! there's threason in the camp ! hit in the face by a four-pounder, by Jove. Oh ! Duke darling ! Oh ! your Grace ! Oh ! holy Joseph, look at this ! Oh ! bad luck to the arthillery, for spoiling a fair fight. Peter" — this was the major of the regiment — " Peter Darcy, gallop into town and lodge informations against the brigade of guns. I'll be dead before you come back."
A perfect biu"st of laughter broke from the opposing ranks, and while his friends crowded round the discomfited leader, the rival bands united in a roar of merriment that for a moment caused a suspension of hostilities. For a moment, I say ; for scarcely had the gallant West- ropp been conveyed to the rear, when once more the band struck up their irritating strains, and preparations for a still more deadly en- counter were made on every side. The matter now assumed so serious an aspect, that the Duke was obliged himself to interfere, and order both parties off the ground ; the Cork deploying towards the lodge, while the brave Louth marched off with banners flying and drums beating in the direction of Knockmaroon.
These movements were conducted with a serio-comic solemnity of the most ludicrous kind • and although the respect for viceregal autho-
40
OUR MESS-
rity was great, and the military devotion of each i)arty strong, yei neither one nor the other was sufficient to prevent the more violent on both sides from occasionally turning, as they went, to give expression to some taunting allusion or some galling sarcasm, well calculated, did the opjiortunity permit, to renew the conflict.
A hearty burst of laughter from the Duke indicated pretty clearly how he regarded the matter ; and, however the grave and significant looks of others might seem to imply that there was more in the cir- cimistance than mere food for mirth, he shook his sides merrily ; and, as his bright eye glistened with satisfaction, and his cheek glowed, he could not help whispering his regret that his station compelled him to check the very best joke he ever witnessed in his life.
" This is hot work, Sir Charles," said he, wiping his forehead as he spoke ; " and, as it is now past tliree o'clock, and we have a privy council at four, I fear I must leave you."
" The troops will move past in marching order," replied Sir Charles pompously : " will your Grace receive the salute at this point ?"
" Wherever you like, Sir Charles ; wherever you like. Would to heaven, that some good Samaritan could afford me a little brandy and water from his canteen. I say, Hinton, they seem at luncheon yonder in that carriage : do you think your diplomacy could negociate a glass of sherry for me ?"
" If you'll permit me, my lord, I'll try," said I, as disengaging my- self from the crowd, I set off in the direction he pointed.
As I drew near the carriage — from which the horses having been taken, was drawn up beside a ckunp of beech trees for the sake of shelter — I was not long in perceiving that it was the same equipage I had so gallantly rescued in the morning from the sabres of the horse-police. Had I entertained any fears for the effects of the nervous shock upon the tender sensibilities of Mrs. Paid Rooney, the scene before me must completely have dispelled my uneasiness. Never did a merrier peal of laughter ring from female lungs tlian hers as I rode forward. Seated in the back of the carriage, the front cushion of which served as a kind of table, sat the lady in question. One hand, resting upon her knee, held a formidable carving-fork, on the summit of wliich vibrated the short leg of a chicken ; in the other she grasped a silver vessel, which, were I to predicate from the froth, I fear I should pronounce to be porter. A luncheon on the most liberal scale, displayed, in all the confusion and disorder inseparable from such a situation, a veal pie, cold lamb, tongue, chickens, and sandwiches ; drinking vessels of every shape and material ; a smelling bottle full of mustard, and a newspaper l)aragraph full of salt. Abundant as were the viands, the guests were not wanting : crowds of infantry officers, flushed with victory or undis- mayed by defeat, hobnobbed from the rumble to the box ; the steps, the springs, the very splinterbar had its occupant ; and, truly, a merrier party, or a naore convivial, it were difficult to conceive.
So environed was Mrs. Rooney by her friends, that I was enabled to obser>e them son.e time, myself unseen.
:s' "^ 1 V
'''. ^z/^ /a^^t^ u^u/i^u
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 41
*' Captain Mitchell, another wing ? Well, the least taste in life of the breast ? Bob Dwyer, will ye never have done drawing that cork ?" Now this I must aver was an unjust reproach, inasmuch as to my own certain knowledge, he had accomplished three feats of that nature in about as many minutes ; and, had the aforesaid Bob been reared from his infancy in drawing corks, instead of declarations, his practice could not have been more expert. Pop, pop, they went ; glug, glug, glug, flowed the bubbling liquor, as sherry, slu'ub, cold punch, and bottled porter succeeded each other m rapid order. Simpering ensigns, with elevated eyebrows, insinuated nonsense, soft, rapid, and immeaning as their own brains, as they helped themselves to ham or dived into the pasty ; while a young dragoon, who seemed to devote his attention to Mrs. Rooney's companion, amused himself by constant endeavours to stroke down a growing moustache, whose downy whiteness resembled nothing that I know of, save the ill-omened fur one sees on an an- tiquated apple-pie.
As I looked on every side to catch a glance at him whom I should suppose to be Mr. Rooney, I was myself detected by the watchful eye of Bob Dwyer, who, at that moment having his mouth full of three nard eggs, was nearly asphyxiated in his endeavours to telegraph my approach to Mrs. Paul.
" The edge-du-cong, by the mortial ! " said he, sputtering out the words, as his bloodshot eyes nearly bolted out of his head.
Had I been a Bengal tiger, my advent might have caused less alarm. The officers not knowing if the Duke himself were coming, wiped their lips, resmned their caps and shakos, and sprang to the ground in dis- may and confusion : as Mrs. Rooney herself, with an adroitness an Indian juggler miglit have envied, plunged the fork, drumstick and all into the recesses of her muff ; while Math a back hand she decanted the XX upon a bald major of infantry, who was brushing the crumbs from his facings. One individual alone seemed to relish and enjoy the discomfiture of the others : this was the young lady whom I before remarked, and whose Avhole air and appearance seemed strangely at variance with every thing around her. She gave free current to her mirth ; while Mrs. Paul, now suddenly restored to a sense of her nervous constitution, fell back in the carriage, and appeared bent upon a scene.
" You cauglit us enjoying ourselves, Mr. Stilton?"
" Hinton, if you'll allow me, madam."
" Ay, to be sure — Mr. Hinton. Taking a little snack, wliich I am sure you'd be the better of after the fatigues of the day."
" Eh, au, au ! a devilish good luncheon," chimed in a pale sub, the first who ventured to pluck up his courage.
" Would a sandwich tempt you, with a glass of champagne ? " said Mrs. Paul, Avith the blandest of smiles.
" I can recommend the lamb, sir," said a voice behind.
*' Begad, I'll vouch for the porter," said the major. " I only hope it is a good cosmetic."
" It is a beautiful thing for the hair," said Mrs. Rooney, half venturing upon a joke.
42 oiin MESS
" No more on that head, ma'am," said the little major, bowing pom- pously.
By this time, thanks to the assiduous attentions of Bob Dm yer, I was presented witii a plate, which, had I been an anaconda, instead of an aide-de-camp, niiglit have satisfied my appetite. A place was made for me in tlie carriage ; and the faithful Bob, converting the skirt of Ills principal blue into a glass-cloth, polished a wine-glass for my private use.
" Let me introduce my young friend, Mr. Hinton," said Mrs. Paul, with a graceful wave of her jewelled liand towards her companion.
" Miss Louisa Bellew, only daughter of Sir Simon Bellew, of "
what the place was I could not well hear, but it sounded confoundedly like Killhiman-smotherum, " a beautiful place in the county Mayo. Bob, is it punch you are giving ?"
" Most excellent, I assure you, Mrs. Rooney."
" And how is the Duke, sir? I hope his Grace enjoys good health. He is a darling of a man."
By the bye, it is perfectly absurd the sympathy your third or fourth- rate people feel in the health and habits of those above them in station, pleased as they are to learn the most commonplace and worthless trifles concerning them, and happy when, by any cliance, some acci- dental similitude would seem to exist even between their misfortunes.
" And the dear Duchess," resumed Mrs. Rooney, " slie's troubled w ith the nerves like myself. Ah ! Mr. Hinton, what an affliction it is to have a sensitive nature ; that's what I often say to my sweet young friend here. It's better for her to be the gay, giddy, thoughtless, happy
thing she is than " Here the lady sighed, wiped her eyes, flourished
lier cambric, and tried to look like Agnes in the Bleeding Nun. " But here they come. You don't know Mr. Rooney ? Allow me to intro- duce him to you."
As slie spoke, O'Grady cantered up to the carriage, accompanied by a short, pursy, round-faced little man, who, with his hat set knowingly on one side, and -his top-boots scarce reaching to the middle of the leg, bestrode a sharp, strong-boned hackney, with cropped ears and short tail. He carried in his hand a hunting-whip, and seemed, by his seat in the saddle and the easy finger upon the bridle, no indifi^erent horseman.
" Mr. Rooney," said the lady, drawing herself up with a certain austerity of manner, " I wish you to make the acquaintance of Mr. Hinton, the aide-de-camp to liis Grace."
Mr. Rooney lifted his hat straight above his head, and replaced it a little more obliquely than before over his right eye.
" Deliglited, upon my honoiu" — faith, quite charmed — hope you got something to eat — there never was such a murthering hot day — Bob Dwyer, open a bottle of port — tlie captain is famisjied."
" I saj', Hinton," called out O'Grady, " you forgot the Duke it seems ; he told me you'd gone in search of some sherry, or something of the kind ; but I can readily coticeive how easily a man may forget him- self in such a position as yours."
JACK HINTON THE GUARDSMAN. 43
Here Mrs. Paul dropped her head in deep confusion, Miss Bellew looked saucy, and I, for the first time remembering what brought me there, was perfectly overwhelmed with shame at my carelessness.
" Never mind, boy ; don't fret about it ; his Grace is the most forgiv- ing man in the world ; and when he knows where you were "
" Ah ! captain," sighed Mrs. Rooney.
" Master Phil, it's yourself can do it," murmured Paul, who per- fectly appreciated O'Grady's powers of blarney, when exercised on the susceptible temperament of his fair spouse.
" I'll take a sandwich," continued the captain. " Do you know, Mrs. Rooney, I've been riding about this half-hour to catch my young friend, and introduce him to you ; and here I find him comfortably installed, without my aid or assistance. The fact is, these English fellows have a flattering, insinuating way of their own, there's no coming up to. Isn't that so, Miss Bellew ?"
" Very likely," said the young lady, who now spoke for the first time ; " but it is so very well concealed, that I for one could never detect it."
This speech, uttered with a certain pert and saucy air, nettled me for the moment ; but, as no reply occurred to me, I could only look at the speaker a tacit acknowledgment of her sarcasm ; while I remem- bered, for the first time, that, although seated opposite my very attrac- tive neighbour, I had hitherto not addressed to her a single phrase of even commonplace attention.
" I suppose you put up in the Castle, sir," said Mr. Rooney.
"Yes; two doors lower down than Mount O' Grady," replied the captain for me. " But come, Hinton, the carriages are moving ; we must get back as quick as we can. Good bye, Paul. Adieu ! Mrs. Rooney. Miss Bellew, good morning."
It was just at the moment when I had summoned up my courage to address Miss Bellew, that O' Grady called me away : there was nothing for it, however, but to make my adieus while extricating myself from the debris of the luncheon. I once more mounted my horse, and joined the viceregal party as they drove from the groimd. '
" I'm delighted you know the Rooneys," said O'Grady, as we drove along : " they are by far the best fun going. Paul good, but his wife superb."
" And the young lady ?" said I.
" Oh, a different kind of tiling altogether. By the bye, Hinton, you took my hint, I hope, about your English manner."
" Eh ? why ? how ? what did you mean ?"
*' Simply, my boy, that your Coppermine-river kind of courtesy may be a devilish fine thing in Hyde park or St. James's, but will never do with us poor people here. Put more warmth into it, man. Dash the lemonade with a little maraschino ; you'll feel twice as com- fortable yourself, and the girls like you all the better. You take the suggestion in good part, I'm sure."
" Oh, of course," said I, somewhat stung that I should get a lesson in manner, where I had meant to be a model for imitation, " if they like that kind of thing, I must only conform."
*4 OUTi MESS.
CHAPTER VII.
THE ROONEYS
I CANNOT proceed further in this my veracious history, without dwell- ing a little longer upon the characters of the two interesting in- dividuals I have already presented to my readers as Mr. and Mrs. Rooney.
Paul Rooney, attorney-at-law, 42 Stephen's-green, north, was about as well known in his native city of Dublin as Nelson's Pillar. His repu- tation, unlimited by the adventitious circmnstances of class, spread over the whole surface of society ; and from the chancellor down to the carman, his claims were confessed.
It is possible that in many other cities of the world, Mr. Rooney might have been regarded as a commonplace, every-day personage, well to do in the world, and of a fair-and-easy character, which, if it left little for reproach, left still less for remark ; but, in Ireland, whether it was the climate or the people, the potteen or the potatoes, I cannot say, but certainly he came out, as the painters call it, n a breadth of colour quite surjirising.
The changeful character of the skies has, they tell us, a remarkable influence in fashioning the ever-varying features of Irish temperament ; and, certainly, the inconstant climate of Dublin had much merit if it produced in Mr. Rooney the versatile nature he rejoiced in.
About ten o'clock, on every morning diu"ing term, might be seen a shrewd, cunning-looking, sly little fellow, who, with pursed up lips and slightly elevated nose, wended his way towards the Foivr- Courts, followed by a ragged urchin with a well-filled bag of purple stuff. His black coat, drab shorts, and gaiters, had a plain and business-like cut ; and the short, square tie of his white cravat had a quaint resemblance to a flourish on a deed ; the self-satisfied look, the assiured step, the easy roll of the head — all bespoke one with whom the world was thriving ; and it did not need the additional evidence of a certain habit he had of jingling his silver in his breeches-pocket as he went, to assure you that Rooney was a warm fellow, and had no want of money.
Were you to trace his steps for the three or four hours that ensued, you would see him bustling through the crowded hall of the Four- Courts — now whispering some important point to a leading barrister, while he held another by the gown lest he should escape him : now he might be remarked seated in a niche between the pillars, explaining some knotty difficulty to a western client, whose flushed cheek and flashing eye too plainly indicated his impatience of legal strategy, and how much more pleased he would feel to redress his wrongs in his own fasliion : now brow-beating, now cajoling, now encouraging, now con-
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 45
doling, he edged his way tlirough the be-wigged and dusty throng, not stopping to reply to the hundred salutations he met with, save by a knowing wink, which was the only civility he did not put down at three-and-fourpence. If his knowledge of law was little, his know- ledge of human nature — at least of such of it as Ireland exhibits — was great ; and no case of any importance could come before a jury, wher« Paul's advice and opinion were not deemed of considerable importance. No man better knew all the wiles and twists, all the dark nooks and recesses of Irish character. No man more quickly could ferret out a hoarded secret ; no one so soon detect an attempted imposition. His was the secret police of law : he read a witness as he would a deed, and detected a flaw in him to the full as easily.
As he sat near the leading counsel in a cause, he seemed a kind of middle term between the lawyer and the jury. Marking by some slight but significant gesture every point of the former, to the latter, he im- pressed upon their minds every favourable feature of his client's cause ; and twelve deaf men might have followed the pleadings in a case through the agency of Paul's gesticulations. The consequence of these varied gifts was, business flowed in upon him from every side, and few mtjmbeis of the bar were in the receipt of one half his income.
Scarceiy, however, did the courts rise, when Paul, shaking from his shoulders the learned dust of the Exchequer, would dive into a small apartment, which, in an obscure house in Mass-lane, he dignified by the name of his study. Short and few as M^ere his moments of seclusion, they sufficed to effect in liis entire man a complete and total change. The shrewd little attorney, that went in with a nisi prius grin, came out a round, pleasant-looking fellow, with a green coat of jockey cut, a buff waistcoat, white cords, and tops ; his hat set jauntily on one side, his spotted neckcloth knotted in bang-up mode : in fact, his figure, the beau ideal of a west-country squire taking a canter among his covers before the opening of the hunting.
His gray eyes, expanded to twice their former size, looked the very- soul of merriment ; his nether lip, slightly dropped, quivered with the last joke it uttered. Even his voice partook of the change, and was now a rich, full. meUow Clare accent, which, with the recitative of his country, seeme* i to Italianize his English. "While such was Paul, his accessoires — as the French would call them — were in admirable keep- ing : a dark ch estnut cob, a perfect model of strength and symmetry, would be led up and down by a groom, also mounted upon a strong hackney, whose flat rib and short pastern, showed his old Irish breeding ; the well-fitting saddle, the well-balanced stirrup, the plain but powerful snaffle, all looked like the appendages of one whose jockey ism was no assumed feature ; and, indeed, you had only to see Mr. Rooney in his seat, to confess that he was to the full as much at home there as in the court of Chancery.
From this to the hour of a late dinner, the Phoenix park became his resort. There, surrounded by a gay and laughing crowd, Paul cantered along, amusing his hearers with the last mot from the King's Bench, or some stray bit of humour or fun from a case on circuit. His convei*-
46
OUn MESS.
sation, howerer, principally ran on other topics, — the Curragh meeting, the Loughrea steeple-cliase, tiie !Meath cup, or Lord Boyne's handicap ; with these he was tliorouglily familiar : lie knew tlie odds of every race, could apportion tlie weiglits, describe the ground, and, better than all, make rather a good guess at the winner. In addition to these gifts, he was the best judge of a horse in Ireland ; always well mounted, and never without at least two hackneys in his stable, able to trot their fifteen Irish miles within the hour. Such qualities as these might be supposed popular ones in a country proverbially given to sporting :
but Mr. Rooney had other and very superior powers of attraction ; he was the Amphitryon of Dublin. It was no figurative expression to say that he kept open house. Dejeuners, dinners, routes, and balls, fol- lowed each other in endless succession. His cook was French, his claret was Sneyd's : he imported his own sherry and Madeira, both of which he nursed with a care and affection truly parental. His venison and black-cock came from Scotland ; every Holyhead packet had its con- signment of Welch mutton ; and, in a word, whatever wealth could j)urchase, and a taste, nurtured as his had been by the counsel of many who frequented his table, could procure, such he possessed in abuu-
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 47
dance ; liis greatest ambition being, to outshine in splendour and surpass in magnificence all the other dinner-givers of the day ; filling his house with the great and titled of the land, who ministered to his vanity with singular good-nature, while they sipped his claret and sat over his Burgundy.
His was indeed a pleasant house : the bons vivants liked it for its excellent cuisine, the perfection of its wines, the certainty of finding the first rarity of the season before its existence was heard of at other tables ; the lomiger liked it for its ease and informality ; the humourist, for the amusing features of its host and hostess ; and not a few were attracted by the gracefulness and surpassing loveliness of one who, by some strange fatality of fortune, seemed to have been dropped down into the midst of this singular menage.
Of Mr. Rooney I have only further to say that, hospitable as a prince, he was never so happy as at the head of his table ; for, although his natural sharpness could not but convince him of the footing which he occupied among his high and distinguished guests, yet he knew well there are few such levellers of rank as riches, and he had read in his youth that even the lofty Jove himself was accessible by the odour of a hecatomb.
Mrs. Rooney — or, as she %\'Tote herself upon her card, Mrs. Paul Rooney (there seemed something distinctive in the prenom.) — was a being of a very different order : perfectly unconscious of the ridicule that attaches to vulgar pi-ofusion, she believed herself the great source of attraction of her crowded staircase and besieged drawing-room. True it was, she was a large and very handsome woman : her deep, dark, brown eyes, and brilliant complexion, would have been beautiful, had not her mouth somewhat marred their effect, by that coarse expression which high living and a voluptuous life is sure to impress upon those not born to be great. There is no doubt of it, the mouth is yoiu' thoroughbred feature. You will meet eyes as softly beaming, as brightly speaking, among the lofty cliffs of the wild Tyrol, or in the deep valleys of the far-west : I have seen, too, a brow as fairly pen- cilled, a nose no Grecian statue could surpass, a skin whose tint was fair and transparent as the downy rose-leaf, amid the humble jieasants of a poor and barren land ; but never have I seen the mouth, whose clean- cut lip and chiselled arch betokened birth. No ; that featme would seem the prerogative of the highly born ; fashioned to the expression of high and holy thoughts ; moulded to the utterance of ennobling sentiment, or proud desire. Its every lineament tells of birth and blood. Now Mrs. Rooney's mouth was a large and handsome one, her teeth white and regular Avithal, and when at rest there was nothing to find fault with ; but let her speak — was it her accent ? — was it the awful provincialism of her native city ? — was it that strange habit of contortion any patois is sure to impress upon the speaker ? 1 cannot tell ; but certainly it lent to features of very considerable attraction, a vulgariz- ing character of expression.
It was truly provoking to see so handsome a person mar every effect of her beauty by some extravagant display. Dramatizing every trivial
48 OUK MESS.
incident in life, she rolled her ej'es, looked horror-struck or happy, sweet or sarcastic, lofty or languishing, all in one minute. There was an eternal play of feature of one kind or other ; there was no rest, no repose. Her arms, and they were round, and fair, and well-fashioned, were also enlisted in the service ; and to a distant observer Mrs. Rooney's animated conversation appeared like a priest performing mass.
And that beautiful head, whose fair and classic proportions were balanced so equally upon her white and swelling throat, how tantalizing to know it full of low and petty ambitions, of vulgar tastes, of con- temptible rivalries, of insignificant triumph. To see her, amid the
voluptuous splendour and profusion of her gorgeous house, resplendent with jeweller)', glistening in all the blaze of emeralds and rubies ; to watch how the poisonous venom of innate vulgarity had so tainted that fair and beautiful form, rendering her an object of ridicule who should have been a thing to worship : it was too bad ; and, as she sat at diimer, her plump but taper fingers grasping a champagne glass, she seemed like a Madonna enacting the part of Moll Flagon.
Now, Mrs. Paul's manner had as many discrepancies as her features. She was by nature a good, kind, merrj', coarse personage, who loved a joke not the less if it were broad as well as long. Wealth, however,
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 49
and its attendant evils, suggested the propriety of a very different line ; and catching up, as she did at every opportunity that presented itself, such of the airs and graces as she believed to be the distinctive traits ot high life, she figured about in these cast-off attractions, like a waiting- maid in the abandoned finery of her mistress.
As she progressed in fortune, she " tried back" for a family, and dis- covered tliat she was an O' Toole by birth, aini consequently of Irish blood-royal : a certain O'Toole being king of a nameless tract, in an unknown year, somewhere about the time of Cromwell, who, Mrs. llooney had heard, came over with the Romans.
" Ah yes, my dear," as she would say when, softened by sherry and sorrow, she would lay her hand upon your arm, " Ah yes, if every one had their own, it isn't married to an attorney I'd be, but living in regal splendour in the halls of my ancestors. Well, well 1" Here she would throw up her eyes with a mixed expression of grief and confidence in heaven, that if she hadn't got her own in this Morld, Oliver Cromwell, at least, was paying off in the other his foul wrongs to the royal house of O'Toole.
I have only one person more to speak of, ere I conclude my rather prolix account of the family. Miss Louisa Bellew was the daughter of an Irish baronet, who put the key-stone upon his ruin by his honest opposition to the passing of the Union. His large estates, loaded with debt and encumbered by mortgage, had been for half a century a kind of battle-field for legal warfare at every assizes. Through the medium of his diiiiculties, he became acquainted with Mr. Rooney, whose craft and subtlety had rescued him from more than one difficulty, and whose good- natured assistance had done still more important service by loans upon his property.
At Mr. Kooney's suggestion. Miss Bellew Avas invited to pass her winter with them in Dublin. This proposition which, in the palmier days of the baronet's fortune, would in all probability never have been made, and would certainly never have been accepted, was now enter- tained with some consideration, and finally acceded to, on prudential motives. Rooney had lent liim large sums : he had never been a pressing, on the contrary, he was a lenient creditor : possessing great power over tlie property, he had used it sparingly, even dehcately, and showed himself upon more than one occasion not only a shrewd adviser, but a warm friend. 'Tis true, thought Sir Simon, they are vulgar people, of coarse tastes and low habits, and those with whom they associate laugh at, though they live upon them ; yet, after all, to refuse this invitation may be taken in ill part ; a few months will do the whole thing. Louisa, although young, has tact and cleverness enough to see the difficulties of her position ; besides, poor child, the gaiety and life of a city will be a relief to her, after the dreary and monotonous existence she has passed with me.
This latter reason he plausibly represented to himself as a strong one for complying with what his altered fortunes and ruined prospects seemed to render no longer a matter of choice.
To the Rooneys, indeed, ]\Iiss Bellew's visit was a matter of some consequence : it was like the recognition of some petty state by one of
MESS, NO. II. — VOL. I. s
OUR MESS.
the great powers of Europe. It was an acknowledgment of a social existence, an evidence to tlie world not only that tliere was such a thing as the kingdom of Rooney, but also that it \\as worth while to enter into negociation with it, and even accredit an ambasador to its coiu-t.
Little did that fair and lovely girl think, as with tearful eyes she turned again and again to embrace her father, as the hour arrived, ■when for the first time in her life she was to leave her home, little did slie dream of the circumstances under which her visit was to be paid. Less a guest than a hostage, she was about to quit the home of her in- fancy, where, notwithstanding the inroads of poverty, a certain air of its once greatness still lingered ; tlie broad and swelling lands, that stretdied away with wood and coi)i)ice, far as the eye could reach — the woodland walks — the ancient house itself, with its discordant pile, accu- nmlated at different times by different masters — all told of power and sui)remacy in the land of her fathers : the lonely solitude of those walls, peopled alone by the grim-visaged portraits of long-buried ancestors, were now to be exchanged for the noise and bustle, the glitter and the glare of second-rate city-life ; profusion and extravagance, w here she had seen but thrift and forbearance ; the gossip, the scandal, the tittle-tattle of society, with its envies, its jealousies, its petty rival- ries, and its rancours, were to supply those quiet evenings beside the winter hearth, when reading aloud some old and valued volume she learned to prize the treasures of our earlier writers under the guiding taste of one whose scholarship was of no mean order, and whose culti- vated mind was imbued with all the tenderness and simplicity of a refined and gentle nature.
When fortune smiled, when youth and wealth, an ancient name and a high position, all concurred to elevate him, Sir Simon Bellew was cour- teous almost to humility; but when the cloud of misfortune lowered over his house, when difficulties thickened around him, and every effort to rescue seemed only to plunge him deeper, then the deep-rooted pride of the man shone forth ; and he who in happier days was forgiving even to a fault, became now scrupulous about every petty observance, exacting testimonies of respect from all around him, and assuming an almost tvranny of manner totally foreign to his tastes, his feelhigs, and his nature ; like some mighty oak of the forest, riven and scathed by light- ning, its branches leafless and its roots laid bare, still standing erect, it stretches its sapless limbs proudly towards heaven ; so stood he, reft of nearly all, yet still presenting to the adverse wind of fortune his bold, unshaken front.
Alas and alas ! poverty has no heavier evil in its train than its power of perverting the fairest gifts of our nature from their true chaimel, making the bright sides of our character dark, gloomy, and repulsive. Thus the high-souled pride that in our better days sustahis and keeps us far above the reach of sordid thoughts and unworthy actions, becomes, in the darker hour of our destiny, a misanthi-opic selfishness in which we wrap ourselves as in a mantle. The caresses of friendship, the warm affections of domestic love, cannot penetrate through tliis ; even sympathy becomes suspect, and then commences that terrible struggle against the world, whose only termination is a broken heart.
JACK IIINTON, THE CUARBSMAN. ^l
Notwithstanding, then, all Mr. Rooney's address in conveying the invitation in question, it was not without a severe struggle that Sir Simon resolved on its acceptance ; and ^hen at last he did accede it. was with so many stipulations, so many express conditions, that, had they been complied with de facto, as they were acknowledged by promise. Miss Bellew would, in all probability, have spent her winter in the retirement of her own chamber in Stephen's-gi'een, without seeing more of the capital and its inhabitants than a view from her window presented. Paul, it is true, agreed to every thing ; for, although, to use his own language, the codicil revoked the entire body of the testament, he determined in his own mind to break the will. Once in Dublin, thought he, the fascinations of society, tlie pleasures of the world, with such a guide as Mrs. Rooney (and here let me mention, that for his wife's tact and savoir faire Paul had the most heartfelt admiration) ; with advantages like these, she will soon forget the hum- drum life of Kilmorran Castle, and become reconciled to a splendour and magnifi- cence unsurpassed by even the viceregal court.
Here, then, let me conclude this account of the Rooneys, while I resume the thread of my own narrative. Although 1 feel for, and am ashamed of the prolixity in which I have indulged, yet, as I speak of real people, well known at the period of which I write, and, as they may to a certain extent convey an impression of the tone of one class in the society of that day, I could not bring myself to omit their mention, nor even dismiss them more briefly.
CHAPTER vnr.
THE VISIT.
I nA\np, already recorded the first twenty-four hours of my life in Ireland ; and, if there Avas enough in them to satisfy me that the country was unlike in many respects that which I had left, there was also some show of reason to convince me that, if I did not conform to the habits and tastes of those around me, I should incur a far greater chance of being laughed at by them than be myself amused by their eccentricities. The most remarkal)le feature that struck me was the easj', even cordial, manner with which acquaintance was made. Every one met you as if he had in some measure been prepared for the mtroduction ; a tone of intimacy sprang up at once ; your tastes were hinted, your wishes guessed at with an unaffected kindness that made you forget the suddenness of the intimacy : so that, when at last you parted with your dear friend of some half-an-hour's acquaintance, you could not help wondering at the confidences you had made, the avowals you had
52 OUU MESS.
spoken, and tlie lengths to Mhich you had gone in close alliance with one you had never seen before, and niiglit possibly never meet again. Strange enough as this Mas Avith men, it was still more singular wlien it extended to the gentler sex. Accustomed as I had been all my life to the rigid observances of etiquette in female society, nothing surprised me so much as the rapid steps by which Irish ladies passed from acquaintance to intimacy, from intimacy to friendship. The unsuspecting kindliness of woman's nature has certainly no more genial soil than in the heart of Erin's daughters. There is besides, too, a winning softness in tlieir manner towards the stranger of another land, that imi)arts to their hospitable reception a tone of courteous warmth I have never seen in any other country.
The freedom of manner I have here alluded to, however delightful it may render the hours of one separated from home, family, and friends, is yet not devoid of its inconveniences. How many an undisciplined and uninformed youth has misconstrued its meaning and mistaken its import. How often have I seen the raw subaltern elated Avitli imaginary success — flushed with a fancied victory — where, in reality, he had met with nothing save the kind looks and the kind words in which tiie every-day courtesies of life are couched, and by w Inch, what, in less favoured lands, are the cold and chilling observances of ceremony, are here the easy and familiar intercourse of those who wish to know each other.
The coxcomb who fancies that he can number as many triumphs as he has passed hours in Dublin, is like one who, estimating the ricii pro- duction of a southern clime by their exotic value in liis own colder regions, dignifies by the name of luxury what are in reality but the every-day productions of the soil : so he believes peculiarly addressed to himself, the cordial warmth and friendly greeting whicli make the social atmosphere around him.
If I myself fell deeply into this error, and if my punishment was a heavy one, let my history prove a "beacon to all who follow in my steps ; for Dublin is still a garrison city, and I have been told that lips as tempting and eyes as bright are to be met there as heretofore. Now to my story.
„ Life in Dublin, at the time I vTite of, was about as gay a thing as a man can well fancy. Less debarred than in other countries from partaking of the lighter enjoyments of life, the members of the learned jirofessions mixed much in society ; bringing with them stores of anecdote and information unattainable from other sources, they made what elsewhere would have proved the routine of intercourse, a season of in- tellectual enjoyment. Thus, the ])olitician, the churchman, the barrister and the military man, shaken as they were together in close intimacy/ lost individually many of the prejudices of tlieir caste, and learned to converse with a wider and more extended knowledge of the world. Wliile this was so, another element, peculiarly characteristic of tlie country, had its share in modelling social life : that innate tendency to drollery, that bent to laugh with every one and at every thing, so eminently Irish, was now in the ascendant. From the viceroy down- wards, the island was on the broad grin. Every day furnished its share,
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 53
US quota of merriment. Epigrams, good stories, repartees, and prac- tical jokes, rained in showers over the hind. A privy comicil was a conversazione of laughing bishops and droll chief justices. Every trial at tlie bar, every dinner at the court, every drawing-room, afforded a themo for some ready-witted absurdity ; and all the graver business of life was carried on amid this current of unceasing fun and untiring laughter, just as we see the serious catastrophe of a modern opera assisted by the crash of an orchestral accompaniment.
With materials like these society w as made up ; and into this I plunged witli all the pleasurable delight of one who, if he could not appreciate tlie sharpness, was at least dazzled by the brilliancy of the wit that flashed around him. My duties as aide-de-camp were few, and never interfered with my liberty : while in my double capacity of military man and attache to the court, I was invited everywhere, and treated with marked courtesy and kindness. Thus passed my life pleasantly along, when a few mornings after the events I have men- tioned, I was sitting at my breakfast, connuig over my invitations for the week, and meditating a letter home, in which 1 should describe my mode of life with as much reserve as might render the record of my doings a safe disclosure for the delicate nerves of my lady-mother. In order to accomplish this latter task with success, I scribbled with some notes a sheet of paper that lay before me. " Among other particularly nice people, my dear mother," wrote I, " there are the Rooneys. Mr. Rooney — a member of the Irish bar, of high standing and great reputa- tion— is a most agreeable and accomplished person. How nmch I should like to present him to you." I had got thus far, when a huskj', asthmatic cough, and a nmttered curse on the height of my domicile, apprised me that some one was at my door. At the same moment a heavy single knock, that nearly stove in the panel, left no doubt upon my mind.
" Are ye at home, or is it sleeping ye are ? May I never, if it's much else the half of ye's fit for. Ugh, blessed hour ! three flights of stairs, with a twist an them instead of a landing. Ye see he's not in the place : I tould you that before I came up : but it's always the same thing. Corny, run here ; Corny, fly there ; get me this, take that. Bad luck to them ! One would think they badgered me for bare divar- sion, the haythens, the Turks !"
A fit of coughing, that almost convinced me Corny had given his last curse, followed this burst of eloquence, just as I appeared at the door.
*' What's the matter. Corny ?"
" The matter ? — ugh, ain't 1 coughing my soul out Avith a wheezing and whistling in my chest like a creel of chickens. Here's Mr. Rooney wanting to see ye ; and faith," as he added in an under tone, " it's not long you wor in making his acquaintance. That's his room," added he with a jirk of his thumb. " Now lave the way if you plase, and let me get a howld of the bannisters."
With these words Corny began his descent, whiL I, apologising to Mr. Rooney for not having sooner perceived him, bowed him into the room with all proper ceremony.
64
OUR MESS.
* A thousand apologies, Mr. Iliiitoii, for the luiseasonablo hoiu" of my visit, hut business "
" Pray not a Mord," said I, " ah\ays delighted to see you. Mrs. llooney is well, I hope."
" Charming, upon my honour. But, as I was saying, I could not well come later ; there is a case in tlie King's Bench — Rex versus Ryves — a heavy record, and I want to catch the counsel to assure him that all's safe. God knows, it has cost me an anxious night. Every thing depended on one witness, an obstinate beast that wouldn't listen to reason: we got hold of him last night ; got three doctors to certify lie was out of liis mind ; and, at this moment, with his head shaved, and a "gray suit on him, he is the noisiest inmate in Glassnevin mad-house."
" Was not this a very bold, a very dangerous expedient ?"
" So it Mas : he fought like tlie devil, and his outrageous conduct lias its reward, for they put him on low diet and hand-cuffs the moment he went in. But excuse me, if I make a hurried visit. Mrs. llouuey requests that — that — but where the devil did I put it?''
Here Mr. Rooney felt his coat-pockets, dived into those of his waistcoat, patted himself all over, tlien looked into his hat, then round the room, on the Hoor, and even outside the door upon the lobby.
" Surely it is not possible I've lost it."
" Nothing of consequence, I hope," said I.
" What a head I have," replied he with a knowing grin, wldle at tlie same moment throwing up the sash of my window, he thrust out the head in question, and gave a loud shrill whistle.
Scarcely was the casement closed when a ragged urchin appeared at the door, carrymg on his back the ominous stuff-bag containing the record of Mr. Rooney's rogueries.
" Give me the bag, Tim," quoth he; at the same moment he plunged liis hand deep among the tape-tied parcels, and extricated a piece of square pasteboard, which, having straightened and flattened upon his knee, he presented to me with a graceful bow, adding jocosely, " an ambassador without his credentials would never do."
It was an invitation to dinner at Mr. Rooney's for the memorable Friday for M'hich my friend O'Grady had already received his card.
" Nothing win give me more pleasure "
" No, will it though ? how very good of you ! a small cosy part)', — Harry Burgh, Bowes Daley, Barrington, the judges, and a few more. There now, no ceremony I beg of you. Come along, Joe. Good morn- ing, Mr. Hinton : not a step further."
So saying, Mr. Rooney backed and shuffled himself out of my room, and, followed by his faithfid attendant, hiun-ied down stairs, muttering 'a series of self-gratulations, as he went, on the successful result of his mission. Scarcely had he gone, when I heard the rapid stride of another visitor, who, mounting four stejis at a time, came along chant- ing at the top of his voice,
" My two back teeth, I will bequeath To the Reverend ^Michael Palmer ; His wife has a toiiffue that'll match them well. She's a devil of a scoKl, G — d d a her !"
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 55
" How goes it, Jack my hearty ?" cried he, as he sprang into the room, flinging liis sabre into the corner, and hurling his foraging cap upon the sofa.
" You have been away, O'Grady ? What became of you for the last two days ?"
" Down at the Cm*ragh, taking a look at the nags for the spring meeting. Dined with the bar at Naas ; had a great night with them ; made old Moore gloriously tipsy, and sent him into court the next morning with the overture to Mother Goose in his bag instead of his brief. Since daybreak I've been trying a new horse in the park, screwing him over all the fences, and rushing him at the double rails in the path-way, to see if he can't cross the country."
" Why the hunting season is nearly over."
" Quite true ; but it is the Loughrea steeple-chase I am thinking of. I have promised to name a horse, and I only remembered last night that I had but twenty -four hours to do it. The time was short, but by good fortune I heard of tliis gray on my way up to town."
" And you think he'll do?"
" He has a good chance, if one can only keep on his back ; but v/hat between bolting, plunging, aiid rushing through his fences, he is not a beast for a timid elderly gentleman. After all, one must have some- thing : the whole world M-ill be there ; the Rooneys are going ; and that pretty little girl with them. By the bye, Jack, what do you think of Miss Bellew ?"
" I can scarcely tell you ; I only saw her for a moment, and then that Hibernian hippopotamus, Mrs. Paul, so completely overshadowed her, there was no getting a look at her."
" Devilish pretty gii'l, that she is ; and one day or other, they saj', will have an immense fortune. Old Ilooney always shakes his head when the idea is thrown out, which only convinces me the more of her chance."
" Well, then. Master Phil, why don't you do something in that quarter ?"
" Well, so I should ; but somehow, most unaccountably you'll saj', I dont think I made my impression. To be sure, I never went vigorously to work : I couldn't get over mj^ scruples of making up to a girl who may have a large fortune, Mhile I myself am so confoundedly out at the elbows ; the thing would look badly, to say the least of it ; and so, when I did think I was making a little running, I only held the faster, and at length gave up the race. You are the man, Hinton. Your chances, I should say "
" Ah, I don't know."
Just at this moment the door opened, and Lord Dudley de Vere entered, dressed in coloured clothes, cut in the most foppish style of the day, and with his hands stuck negligently behind in his coat- pockets. He threw himself affectedlv into a chair, and eyed us both without speaking.
"I say. Messieurs, Rooney or not Rooney, that's the question. Do we accept this invitation for Friday ?"
" I do for one," said I, somevi hat haughtily.
Sb OVTR MESS.
"Can't be, my boy," said O'Grady: " tlie thing is most unlucky; they have a dinner at court" that same day ; our names are all on the list ; and thus Me lose the Kooneys, which, from all I hear, is a very serious loss indeed. Curran, Barrington, Harry Martin, and hall- a-dozen others, the first fellows of tlie day, are all to be there."
" What a deal they will talk," yawned out Lord Dudley. " I feel rather happy to have escaped it. There's uo saying a word to the woman beside you, as long as tlwse confounded fellows keep up a roaring fire of what they think wit. What an idea! to be sure, there is not a man among them that can tell you the odds ujjou the Derby, nor what year tliere was a dead heat for the St. Leger. That' little girl the Kooneys have got is very pretty I must confess ; but I see what they are at: won't do though. Ha! O'Grady, you know what I mean ?"
" Faith, I am very stupid this morning ; can't say that I do."
" Not see it ! It is a hollow thing ; but perhaps you are in the scheme too. There, you needn't look angry ; I only meant it in joke — ha 1 ha ! ha! I say, Hhiton, do you take care of yourself: Englishers have no chance here ; and when they find it won't do with me, they'll take you in training."
*' Any thing for a pis-aller" said O'Grady, sarcastically ; " but let us not forget there is a levee to-day, and it is already past twelve o'clock."
" Ha ! to be sure, a horrid bore."
So saying, Lord Dudley lounged once more round the room, looked at himself in the glass, nodded familiarly to his own image, and took his leave. O'Grady soon followed ; while I set about my change of dress with all the speed the time required.
CHAPTER IX.
TIIE BALL.
As the day of Mr. Rooney's grajid entertainment drew near, our dis- appointment increased tenfold at our inability to be present. The only topic discussed in Dublin was the nmnber of tlie guests, the splendour and magnificence of the dinner, which was to be followed by a ball, at which above eight hundred guests were expected. The band of the Fermanagh militia, at that time the most celebrated in Ire- land, was brought up expressly for the occasion. All that the city could number of rank, wealth, and beauty, had received invitations, and scarcely a single apology had been returned.
" Is there no possible way," said I, as I chatted with O'Grady on the morning of the event ; " is there no chance of our getting away in time to see something of the ball at least ?"
JACK niNTON, THE GUARDSllAN. 57
" None wliatever," replied he. despondingly ; " as ill luck would liave it, it's a comniand-night at the theatre. The Duke has disappointed so often, that lie is sure to go now, and for the same reason lie'U sit the whole thing out. By that time, it will be half-past twelve,
we shan't get back here before one ; then comes sujjper ; and
in fact, you know enough of the habits of this place now, to guess that after that there is very little use of thinking of going any where."
" It is devilish provoking," said I.
" That it is : and you don't know the worst of it. I've got rather a heavy book on the Loughrea race, and shall Avant a few himdreds in a week or so ; and, as nothing renders my friend Paul so sulky as not eating his dinners, it is five-and-twenty per cent, at least out of my pocket, from this confounded contre-temps. There goes De Vere. I say, Dudley, who have we at dinner to-day ?"
" Harrington and the Asgills, and that set," replied he, with an inso- lent shrug of his shoulder.
" More of it, by Jove," said O'Grady, biting his lip. " One must be as particular before these people, as a young sub. at a regimental mess. There's not a button of your coat, not a loop of your aiguilette, not a twist of your sword-knot, little Charley won't note down ; and, as there is no orderly-book in the diawing-roora, he'll whisper it to his Grace before coffee."
" What a bore !"
" Ay, and to think that all that time we might have been up to the very chin in fun. The Rooneys to-day will outdo even themselves. They've got half-a-dozen new lords on trial ; all the judges ; a live bishop ; and, better than all, every pretty woman in the capital. I've a devil of a mind to get suddenly ill, and slip off to Paul's for the dessert."
" No, no, that's out of the question ; we must only put up with our misfortunes as well as we can. As for me, the dinner here is, I tliink, the worst part of tlie matter."
" I estimate my losses at a very different rate. First, there is the three hundred, which I shoidd certainly have had from Paul, and which now becomes a very crooked contingency. Then tliere's the dinner and two bottles — I speak moderately — of such burgundy as nobody has but himself. These are the positive bond fide losses : tJien, what do you say to my chance of picking up some lovely girl, w ith a stray thirty thousand, and the good taste to look out for a proper fellow to spend it with ? Seriously, Jack, I must think of something of that kind one of these days. It's wrong to lose time ; for, by waiting, one's chances diminish, while becoming more difficult to please. So you see what a lieavy blow this is to me : not to mention my little gains at short- M'hist, which in the half-hom* before supper I may fairly set down as a
fifty."
" Yours is a very complicated calculation ; for, except the dinner, and I suppose we shall have as good a one here, I have not been able to see any thing but problematic loss or profit."
" Of course you haven't : your English education is based upon groiuids far too positive for that ; but we mere Ii'ish get a habit of
58 OUR MESS.
look.ing at the possible as probable, and the probable as most like y. I don't think we build castles more tlian oui- neighbours, but we certainly go live in them earlier ; and if we do, now and then, get a chill for our pains, why we generally have another building ready to receive us elsewhere for change of ah*."
" TJiis is, I confess, somewhat strange philosophy."
" To be sure it is, my boy ; for it is of pure native manufacture. Every other people I ever heard of, deduce their happiness from their advantages and prosperity. As we have very little of one or the other, we extract some fun out of our misfortunes ; and, what between laughing occasionally at ourselves, and sometimes at our neighbours, we push along through life right merrily after all. So now, tlien, to apply my theory : let us see what we can do to make the best of this disappoint- ment. Shall I make love to Lady Asgill ? Shall I quiz Sir Charles about the review ? Or can you suggest any thing in the way of a little extemporaneous devilry, to console us for our disappointment ? But, come along, my boy, we'll take a canter ; I want to show you Moddi- ridderoo. He improves every day in liis training ; but they tell me there is only one man can sit him across a coimtry, a fellow I don't much fancy, by the bye ; but the turf, like poverty, leads us to form somewhat strange acquaintances. Meanwhile, my boy, here come the nags ; and now for the park till dinner."
During our ride, O'Grady informed me that the individual to whom he so slightly alluded was a Mr. Ulick Bm-ke, a cousin of Miss Bellew. This individual, who by family and connections was a gentleman, had contrived by liis life and habits to disqualify himself from any title to the appellation in a very considerable degree. Having squandered the entire of his patrimony on the turf, he had followed the apparently im- mutable law on such occasions, and ended by becoming a hawk, where he liad begun as a pigeon. For many years past he had lived by the exercise of those most disreputable sources, liis own wits. Present at every race- course in the kingdom, and provided with that under-current of infor- mation obtainable from jockeys and stable-men, he understood all the intrigue, all the low cunning of the course : he knew when to back the favourite, when to give, when to take the odds ; and, if upon any occa- sion he was seen to lay heavily against a well-known horse, the pre- sumption became a strong one, that he was either " \ATong" or with- drawn. But his qualifications ended not here ; for he was also that sin- gular anomaly in our social condition, a gentleman-rider, ready upon any occasion to get into the saddle for any one that engaged his services ; a flat race, or a steeple-chase, all the same to him. His neck was his livelihood, and to support, he must risk it. A racing-jacket, a pair of leathers and tops, a heavy handled-whip, and a shot-belt, were his stock in trade, and he travelled through the world a species of sporting Dalgetty, minus the probity wliich made the latter firm to his engage- ments, so long as they lasted : at least, report denied the quality to ^Ir. BurKC, and those who knew him well scrupled not to say that fifty pounds liad exactly twice as many arguments, in its favour as five-and-lwenty.
So much then in brief concerning a character to whom I shall here- after have occasion to recur, and now to my own narrative.
JACK UINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 59
O'Grady's anticipations as to the C'aslle-dinner were not in the least exaggerated : notliing could possibly be more stiff or tiresome ; the en • tertainment being given, as a kind of ex-officio civility, to the com- mander of the forces and liis staff, the conversation was purely profes- sional, and never ranged beyond the discussion of military topics, or such as bore in any way upon tlie army. Hai)pily, however, its duration was short. We dined at six, and by half-past eight we found om'selves at the foot of the grand staircase of the theatre in Crow-street, with Mr. Jones in the full dignity of his managerial costume waiting to receive us.
. " A little late I fear, Mr. Jones," said his Grace with a courteous smile, "What have we got?"
" Your excellency selected the Inconstant," said the obsequious manager ; while a lady of the party darted her eyes suddenly towards the Duke, and with a tone of marked sarcastic import exclaimed, " How characteristic !"
" And the after-piece, what is it ?" said the Duchess, as she fussed her way up stairs.
" Timour the Tartar," your Grace.
The next moment the thundering applause of the audience informed us that their excellencies had taken their places. Cheer after cheer re- sounded through the building, and the massive lustre itself shook under the deafening acclamations of the audience. The scene was truly a brilliant one. The boxes presented a perfect blaze of wealth and beauty ; nearly every jiei'son in the pit was in full dress ; to the very ceiling itself the house was crammed. The progress of the piece was interrupted, while the band struck up " God save the King," and, as I looked upon the brilliant dress circle, I could not but think that O'Grady had been guilty of some exaggeration when he said that Mrs. Rooney's ball was to mono- polize that evening the youth and the beauty of the capital. The na- tional anthem over, " Patrick's Day" was called for loudly from every side, and the whole house beat time to the strains of their native melody, with an energy that showed it came as fully home to their hearts as the air that preceded it. For ten minutes at least the noise and uproar continued ; and, although his Grace bowed repeatedly, there seemed no prospect to an end of the tumult, when a voice from the gallery called out, " Don't make a stranger of yourself, my lord ; take a chair and sit down." A roar of laughter, increased as the Duke accepted the suggestion, shook the house ; and poor Talbot, who all this time was kneeling beside Miss Walstein's chair, was permitted to continue his ardent tale of love, and take up the thread of liis devotion where he had left it twenty minutes before.
While O'Grady, who sat in the back of the box, seemed absorbed in his chagrhi and disappointment, 1 myself became interested in the play, which was admirably performed ; and Lord Dudley, leaning affectedly against a pillar, with his back towards the stage, scanned the house with his vapid, unmeaning look, as though to say they were unworthy of such attention at his hands.
The comedy was at length over and her Grace with the ladies of licj* suite retired, leaving only the Asgills and some members of the_ household
60 OUR MESS.
ill the box with liis excellency. He apparently was much entertained by the performance, and seemed most resolutely bent on staying to.tlie last. Before tlie first act, however, of the after-})iece was over, many of tlie benches in the dress-circle became deserted, and the house altogetlier seemed considerably thinner.
" I say, O'Grady," said he, " what are these good people about ; there seems to be a general move among them. Is there any thing going
on :-"
" Yes, your Grace," said Pliil, whose impatience now coiJd scarcely be restrained, " they are going to a great ball in Stephen's-green ; the most splendid thing Dublin has witnessed these fifty years."
" Ah, indeed ! Where is it ? Who gives it ?"
" Mr. Kooney, sir, a very well-known attorney, and a great character in the town."
" How good ! And he does the thing well ?"
" He flatters himself that he rivals your Grace."
" Better still! But who has he? What are his people ?"
"Every one : tliere is nothing too high, nothing too handsome, nothing too distinguished for him ; his house, like the Holyhead packet, is open to all comers, and the consequence is, his parties are by far the pleasantest thing going. One has such strange rencontres, sees such odd people, hears such di'oll things ; for, besides having every thing like a character in the city, the very gravest of Mr. llooney's guests seems to feel his house as a place to relax and unbend in : thus, I should not be the least surprised to see the chief justice and the attorney- general playing small plays, nor the bishop of Cork dancing Sir Roger de Coverley."
" Glorious fun, by Jove I but why are you not there, lads ? Ah ! I see : on duty. I wish you had told me. But come, it is not too late yet. Has Hinton got a card ?"
" Yes, your Grace."
" Well, then, don't let me detain you any longer. I see you are both impatient ; and faith, if I must confess it, I half envy you ; and mind you give me a full report of the proceedings to-morrow morning."
" How I wish your Grace could only witness it yourself!"
" Eh ? Is it so very good then ?"
" Nothing ever was like it ; for, although the company is admirable, the host and hostess are matchless."
" Egad! you've quite excited my curiosity. I say, O'Grady, would they know me, think ye ? Have you no micle or country-cousin about my weight and build?"
" Ah, my lord, that is out of the question ; you are too well known to assume an incognito : but still, if you wish to see it for a few mi- nutes, nothing could be easier than just to walk through the rooms and come away. The crowd will be such, the thing is quite practi- cable, done in that way."
" By Jove, I don't know; but if I thought To be sure, as you
say, for five minutes or so one might get through. Come, here goes : order up the carriages. Now mini, O'Grady, I am under your mauageineut. Do the thing as qiuetly as you can."
JACK IIINTON, TITE GUARDSMAN. 61
Elated at the success of his scheme, Phil scarcely waited for his Grace to conclude, but sprang down the box-lobby to give the necessary orders, and was back again in an instant.
•'Don't you think I had better take this star off?"
" Oh no, my lord, it will not be necessary. By timing the thing well, Ave' 11 contrive to get your Grace into the midst of the crowd witiiout attracting observation. Once there, the rest is easy enough."
Many minutes had not elapsed ere we reached the corner of Grafton- street. Here we became entangled with the line of carriages, which extended more than half Avay round Stephen's-green, and, late as was the hour, were still thronging and pressing onwards towards the scene of festivity. O' Grady, who contrived entirely to engross his Grace's attention by many bits of the gossip and small-talk of the day, did not permit him to remark that the viceregal liveries and the guard of ho- nour that accompanied us enabled us to cut the line of carriages, and, taking precedence of all others, arrive at the door at once. Indeed, so occupied was the Duke with some story at the moment, that he was half provoked as the door was flung open, and the clattering clash of the steps interrupted the conversation.
" Here we are, my lord," said Phil.
" Well, get out, O' Grady. Lead on. Don't forget it is my first visit here : and you, I fancy, know the map of the country."
The hall in which Ave found ourselves, brilliantly lighted and thronged Avith servants, presented a scene of the most strange confusion and tu- mult ; for, such Avas the eagerness of the guests to get for Avar d, many persons were separated from their friends : turbaned old ladies called in cracked voices for their sons to rescue them, and desolate daughters seized distractedly the arm nearest them, and implored succour Avith an accent as agonizing as though on the eve of shipwreck. Mothers screamed, fathers SAvore, footmen laughed, and high above all came the measiued tramp of the dancers overhead, Avhile fiddles, French-horns, and dulcimers scraped and blcAV their Avorst, as if purposely to increase the inextricable and maddening confusion that prevailed.
" Sir Peter and Lady Macfarlane !" screamed the servant at the too of the stairs. ,
" Counsellor and Mrs. Blake."
" Captain O'Ryan of the Rifles."
" Lord Dumboy ."
" Dunboyne, you villain !"
" Ay, Lord Dunboyne and five ladies."
Such Avere the announcements that preceded us as we wenaed our way sloAvly on, Avhile I could distinguish Mr. Rooney's voice receiving and "welcoming his guests, for Avhich purpose he used a formula, in part derived from the practice of an auction-room.
" Walk in, ladies and gentlemen, Avalk in. ^ Whist, tea, dancing, negus, and blind-hookej' — delighted to see you — Avalk in ;" and so, da capo, only varying the ritual Avhen a lord or a baronet necessitated a change of title.
" You're quite right, O'Grady ; I Avouldn't have lost this for a great deal," Avhispered the Duke.
62 OUR MESS.
*' Now, my lord, permit me," said Phil. '' Ilinton nnd I will eng-ige ^Ir. Rouiiey in conversation, while jour Grace can i)ass on and mix with tiie crowd."
'• Walk in, walk in, ladies and Ah! how are you captain? This
is kind of you Mr. Hinton, your humble servant .Wliist, dancing,
blind-hookey, and negus — walk in — and. Captain Phil," added he in a whisper, " a bit of supper by and by below stairs."
" I must tell you an excellent thing, Rooney, before I forget it," said O'Grady, turning the host's attention away from the door as he sjjoke, and inventing some imaginary secret for the occasion ; while I followed his Grace, who now was so inextricably jammed up in tlie dense mob, that any recognition of him would have been very difficult, if not actually impossible.
For some time I could perceive that the Duke's attention was devoted to the conversation about him. Some half-dozen ladies were carrying on a very actA'e and almost acrimonious controversy on the subject of dress ; not however with any artistic pretension of regulating costume or colour, not discussing the rejection of an old or the adoption of a new mode, but with a nuich more practical spirit of inquiry they were appraising and valuing each other's finery, in the most sincere and simple way imaginable.
" Seven-and-sixpence a yard, my dear ; you'll never get it less, I assure you." " That's elegant lace, Mrs. ]\Iahony ; was it run, ma'am ?" IMrs. ]\Iahony bridled at the suggestion, and replied that, though
neither her lace nor her diamonds were Irish " " Six breadths,
ma'am, always in the skirt," said a fat, little, dumpy woman, holding up her satin petticoat in evidence.
" I say, Hinton," whispered the Duke, " I hope they won't end by an examination of us. But what the deuce is going on here ?"
This remark was caused by a very singular movement in the room. Tlie crowd wliich had succeeded to the dancers, and filled the large drawing-room from end to end, now fell back to either wall, leaving a space of about a yard wide down the entire centre of the room, as though some performance was about to be enacted or some procession to march there.
"What can it be?" said the Duke ;" some foolery of O'Grady's, depend upon it ; for look at him up there talking to the band."
As he spoke, the musicians struck up the grand march in Blue Beard, and Mrs. Paul Rooney appeared in the open space, in all the plenitude of her charms — a perfect blaze of rouge, red feathers, and rubies — 'marching in solemn state. She moved along in time to the nmsic, followed by Paid, Avhose cunning eyes twinkled with more than a com- mon shrewdness, as he peered here and there through the crowd. They came straight towards where we were standing ; and while a whispered murmiu* ran through the room, the various persons around us drew back, leaving the Duke and myself completely isolated. Before his Grace could recover his concealment, IMrs. Rooney stood iHjfore him. The music suddenly ceased ; while the lady, disposing her petticoats as though the oljject were to conceal all tlie company behind her, conrtesied down to the very floor.
" Ah ! your Grace," uttered in an accent of the most melting tender-
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JACK UlNTON, THE GUARDSMAX. 63
ness, were the only M'ords she coxold speak, as she bestowed a look of still more speaking softness. " Ah, did I ever hope to see the day ■when yoiir highness would honour "
" My dear madam," said the Duke, as taking her hand with great courtesy, " pray don't overwhelm me with obligations. A very natural, I hope a very pardonable desire, to witness hospitality I have heard so much of, has led me to intrude thus uninvited upon you. Will you allow me to make Mr. Rooney's acquaintance ?"
Mrs. Ilooney moved gracefully to one side, waving her hand with the air of a magician about to summon an attorney from the earth, when suddenly a change came over his Grace's features ; and, as he covered his mouth with his handkerchief, it was with the greatest diffi- culty he refrained from an open burst of laughter. The figure before him was certainly not calculated to suggest gravity. Mr. Paul Rooney for the first time in his life found himself the host of a viceroy, and, amid the fumes of his wine and the excitement of the scene, entertained some very confused notion of certain ceremonies observable on sucli occasions. He had read of curious observances in the east, and strange forms of etiquette in China, and probably, had the Khan of Tartary dropped in on the evening in question, his memory would have supplied him with some hints for his reception ; but, with the representa- tive of Britannic majesty, before whom he was so completely overpowered, he could not think of, nor decide upon any thing. A very misty im- pression flitted through his mind, that people occasionally knelt before a lord lieutenant ; but whether they did so at certain moments, or as a general practice, for the life of him he could not tell. While, there- fore, the dread of omitting a customary etiquette weighed with him on one hand, the fear of ridicide actuated him on the other ; and thus he advanced into the presence with bent knees and a supplicating look eagerly turned towards the Duke, ready at any moment to drop down or stand upright before him as the circumstances might warrant.
Entering at once into the spirit of the scene, the Duke bowed with the most formal courtesy, while he vouchsafed to Mr. Rooney some few expressions of compliment. At the same time, drawing Mrs. Rooney's arm within his own, he led her down the room, with a grace and dig- nity of manner no one was more master of than himself. As for Paul, apparently unable to stand upright under the increasing load of favours that fortune was showering upon his head, he looked over his shoulder at Mrs. Rooney, as she marched off in triumph, with the same exube- rant triumph Young used to throw into Othello, as he passionately ex- claims—
" Excellent wench ! perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee !"
Not but that, at the very moment in question, the object of it was most ungratefully oblivious of Mr. Rooney and his affection.
Had Mrs. Paul Rooney been asked on the morning after her ball, what was her most accm-ate notion of Elysian bliss, she probably would have answered, — leaning upon a viceroy's arm in her own ball-room, imder ihe en\ ious stare and jealous gaze of eight hundred assembled guests.
64 OUR MEgS.
Her flashed look, her flashing eye, the tremhlinp; hand with which Bhe waved her fan, the proud imperious st(>p, all spoke of triumph. In fact, such was the halo of reverence, such the reflected brightness the representative of monarchy then bore, slie felt it a prouder honour to be thus escorted, than if the emperor of all the llussias had deigned to grace lier mansion with liis presence. How she loved to run over every imaginable title she conceived apjdicable to his rank, " Your Koyal Iligiiness," " Your Grace" " Y'our noble Lordship," varying and comljining them, like a child who runs his erring fingers over tlie keys of a piano-forte, and is delighted with the eftbrts of his skill.
While this kingly scene was thus enacting, the ball-room resumed its former life and vivacity. This indeed was owing to O'Grady : no sooner had his scheme succeeded of delivering up the Duke into the liands of the Kooneys, than he set about restoring such a degree of turmoil, tumult, noise, and merriment, as, while it should amuse his Grace, would rescue him from the annoyance of being stared at by many who never had walked the boards with a live viceroy.
" Isn't it gloriously done, Hinton ?" he whispered in my ear as he passed. " Now lend me your aid, my boy, to keep the whole thing moving. Get a partner as quick as you can, and let us try if we can't do the honours of the house, while the master and mistress are basking in the sunshine of royal favour."
As he spoke, the band struck up " Haste to the Wedding ! " The dancers assumed their places. Phil himself flying hither and thither, arranging, directing, ordering, countermanding, providing partners for persons he had never seen before, and introducing individuals of whose very names he was ignorant.
" Push along, Hinton," said he ; " only set them going — speak to every one — half the men in the room answer to the name of ' Bob,' and all the young ladies are ' Miss Magees.' Go it, my boy ; this is a great night for Ireland 1"
This happy land, indeed, Mhich, like a vast powder-magazine, only wants but the smallest spark to ignite it, is always prepared for an ex- plosion of fun. No sooner then did O'Grady, taking out the fattest woman in the room, proceed to lead her down the middle to the liveliest imaginable country-dance, than at once the contagious spirit flew through the room, and dancers pressed in from every side. Champagne served round in abundance, added to the excitement ; and, as eight- and-thirty couple made the floor vibrate beneath them, such a scene of roise, laughter, uproar, and merriment ensued, as it were difficult to conceive or describe.
JACK IIINTUN, TUi: GUARDSMAN. G5
CHAPTER X.
A FINxVLE TO AN EVENING.
A BALL, like a battle, has its critical moment : that one short aiid subtle point, on which its trembling fate would seem to hesitate, ere it incline to this side or that. In both, such is the time for generalsliip to display itself: and of this my friend O'Grady seemed well aware ; for, calling up his reserve for an attack in force, he ordered strong negus for the band ; and ere many minutes, the increased vigour of the instruments attested that the order had been attended to.
" Right and left !" " Hands across !" " Here we are !" " This way, Peter !" " Ah ! captain, you're a droll crayture !" " Move along, alder- man !" " That negus is mighty strong !" " The Lord grant the house is !"
Such and such like phrases broke aroimd me, as, under the orders of the irresistible Phil, I shuffled doM n the middle with a dumpy little school-girl, with red hair and red shoes; which, added to her capering motion, gave her a most unhappy resemblance to a cork fairy.
" You are a trump, Jack," said Phil. " Never give in. I never was in such spirits in my life. Two bottles of champagne imder my belt, and a check for tliree hundred Paul has just given me without a scrape of my pen ; it might have been five, if I had only had presence of mind."
" Where is Miss Bellew all this time ?*' inquired I.
" I only saw her for a moment : she looks saucy, and won't dance."
My pride, somewhat stimulated by a fact which I could not help interpreting in Miss Bellew's favour, I went through the rooms in search of her, and at length dis-covered her in a boudoir, where a whist- party were assembled. She was sitting upon a sofa, beside a tall, venerable-looking old man, to whom she was listening with a sem- blance of the greatest attention as I entered. I had some time to observe her, and could not help feeling struck how much handsomer she was than I had formerly supposed. Her figvu-e, slightly above the middle size, and most graceful in all its proportions, was, perhaps, a little too much disposed to embonpoint ; the character of her features, however, seemed to suit, if not actually to require as much. Her eyes of deep blue, set well beneath her brow, had a look of intensity in them that evidenced thought ; but the other features relieved by their graceful softness this strong expression, and a nose short and slightly, very slightly retrousse, with a mouth, the very perfection of eloquent and winning softness, made ample amends to those who prefer charms purely femiiune to beauty of a severer character.
MESS, KG III. — VOL. I. I
66 OUB STESS.
Her hair, too, was of that deep auburn througli which a golden light Beems for ever playing ; and this, contrary to the taste of the day, she wore simply braided ujjon her temple and cheeks, marking the oval contour of her face, and displaying, by this graceful coquetry, the perfect chiselling of her features. Let mc add to this, that her voice was low and soft in all its tones ; and, if the provincialism with which she spoke did at first offend my ear, I learned afterwards to think that the breathing intonations of the west lent a charm of their own to all she said, deepening the pathos of a simple story, or heightening the drollery of a merry one. Yes, laugh if you will, yc high-bred and high-born denizens of a richer sphere, whose ears, attuned to the rhytlnn of Metastasio, softly borne on the strains of Donizetti, can scarce pardon the intrusion of your native tongue in the every- day concerns of life — smile if it so please ye; but from the lips of a lovely woman, a little, a very little of the brogue is most se- ductive. Whether the subject be grave or gay, whether mirth or melancholy be the mood, like the varnish upon a picture, it brings out all the colour into strong effect, brightening the lights, and deepening the shadows ; and then, somehow, there is an air of naivete., a tone of simplicity about it, that appeals equally to your heart as your hearing.
Seeing that the conversation in which she was engaged seemed to engross her entire attention, I was about to retire without addressing her, when suddenly she turned round, and her eyes met mine : I ac- cordingly came forward, and, after a few of the common-place civilities of the moment, asked her to dance.
" Pray, excuse me, Mr. Hinton, I have declined already several times : I have been fortunate enough to meet with a very olil and dear friend of my father "
" Who is much too attached to his daughter, to permit her to waste an entire evening upon hira. No, sir, if you will allow me, I will resign ]\Iiss Bellew to your care."
Siie said something in a low voice, to which he muttered in reply : tlie only words which I could catch — " No, no ; very different, indeed — this is a most proper person" — seemed, as they were accom- panied by a smile of much kindness, in some way to concern me ; and the next moment Miss Bellew took my arm and accompanied me to the ball-room.
As I passed the sofa where the duke and Mrs. Rooney M-ere still seated, his grace nodded familiarly to me, with a gesture of approval ; wliile Mrs. Paul clasped both her hands before her with a movement of ecstacy, and seemed as if about to bestow upon us a maternal blessing. Fearful of incurring a scene, Miss Bellew hastened on, and, as her arm trembled witliin mine, I could perceive how deeply the ridicule of her friend's position wounded her own pride. Meanwhile, I could just cfitch the tones of Mrs. Rooney's voice, explaining to the duke Miss Bellew's pedigree. " One of the oldest families of the land, your grace ; came over with Romulus and Remus ; and, if it were not for Oliver Cromwell and the Danes," — the confounded fiddles lost the rest, and I was left in the dark, to gue«s what these strange allies
JACK HINTON, THE GUARDSMAN. 67
Had inflicted upon the Bellew family. The dancing now began, and only between the intervals of the cotillon had I an opportunity of conversing with my partner. Few and brief as these occasions were, I was delighted to find in her, a tone and manner, quite different from any thing I had ever met before. Although having seen scarcely any thing of the world, her knowledge of character seemed an instinct, and her quick appreciation of the ludicrous features of many of the company was accompanied by a naive expression, and at the same time a witty terseness of phrase, that showed me how much real intelligence lay beneath that laughing look. Unlike my fair cousin. Lady Julia, her raillery never wounded : hers were the fanciful combinations which a vivid and sparkling imagination conjures up, but never the barbed and bitter arrows of sarcasm. Catching up in a second any passing absur- dity, she could laugh at the scene, yet seem to spare the actor. Julia, on the contrary, with what the French call Vesprit moqueur, never felt that her wit had hit its mark till she saw her victim writhing and quivering beneath her.
There is always something in being the partner of the belle of a ball- room. The little bit of envy and jealousy, whose limit is to be the duration of a waltz or quadrille, has somehow its feeling of pleasure. There is a reflective flattery in the thought of a fancied preference, that raises one in his own esteem ; and, as the muttered compliments and half-spoken praises of the bystanders fall upon your ears, you seem to feel that you are a kind of shareholder in the company, and ought to retire from business with your portion of the profits. Such, I know, were some of my feelings at the period in question ; and, as I pulled up my stock and adjusted my sash, I looked vipon the crowd about me with a sense of considerable self-satisfaction, and began really for the first time to enjoy myself.
Scarcely was the dance concluded, when a general movement was perceptible towards the door, and the word " supper," repeated from voice to voice, announced that the merriest hour in Irish life had soimded. Delighted to have Miss Bellew for my companion, I edged my way into the mass, and was borne along on the current. The view from the top of the staircase was suflftciently amusing : a waving mass of feathers of every shape and hue, a crowd of spangled tiu^bans, bald and powdered heads, seemed wedged inextricably together, swaying backwards and forwards with one impulse, as the crowd at the door of the supper-room advanced or receded. The crash of plates and knives, the jingling of glasses, the popping of champagne corks, told that the attack had begun, had not even the eager faces of those nearer the door indicated as much. Nulli oculi retrorsum 'seemed the motto of the day, save when some anxious mother would turn a backward and uneasy glance towards the staircase, where her daughter, preferring a lieutenant to a lobster, was listening with elated look to his tale of love and glory, " Eliza my dear, sit next me." — " Anna, my love, come down here." These brief commands, sig- nificantly as they were uttered, would be lost to those for whom intended, and only serve to amuse the by-standers, and awaken them
68 ovn MESS.
to a quicker perception of the passing flirtation. Some philosopher has gravely remarked, that the critical moments of our life are the transitions from one stage or state of our existence to another; and that our fate for the future depends in a great measure upon those hours in which we emerge from infancy to boyhood, from boyhood to nmnhood, from manhood to maturer years. Perhaps the arguments of time migiit hv applied to place, and we might thus be enabled to show how a staircase is the most dangerous portion of a building ; I speak not here of the insecurity of the architecture, nor, indeed, of any staircase whose well-tempered light shines down at noon-day through the perfumed foliage of a conservatory; but of the same i)lace, a blaze of lamp-light, about two in the morning, crowded, cranmied, and creaking by an anxious and elated throng pressing towards a supper- room. Whether it is the supper or the squeeze, the odour of balmy lips, or the savoury smell of roast ducks — whether it be the api)roach to silk tresses, or sillery 7nousseux — whatever the provocation, I cannot explain it; but the fact is so: one is tremendously given in such a place, at such a time, to the most barefaced and palpable flirtation. So strongly do I feel this point, that, were I a lawgiver, I would never award damages for a breach of contract, where the promise w as made on a staircase.
As for me, my acquaintance with Miss Bellew was not of more than an hour's standing : during that time we had contrived to discuss the ball- room, its guests, its lights, its decorations, the music, the dancers — in a word, all the conmion-pluces of an evening party : thence we wandered on to Dublin, society in general, to Ireland, and Irish habits, and Irish tastes ; quizzed each other a little about our respec- tive peculiarities, and had just begun to discuss the distinctive features which characterise the softer emotions in the two nations, when the announcement of supper brought us on tlie staircase. Aprojws, or mal apropos, this turn of our conversation, let the reader decide by what I have already stated : so it was, however, and in a little nook of the landing I found myself with my fair companion's arm pressed closely to my side, engaged in a warm controversy on the trite subject of English coldness of manner. Advocating my coimtry, I deemed that no more fitting defence could be entered, than by evidencing in myself the utter absence of the frigidity imputed. Champagne did something for me ; Louisa's bright eyes assisted ; but the staircase, the confoimded staircase, crowned all. In fact, the undisguised open- ness of Miss Bellew's manner, the fearless simplicity with which she had ventured upon topics, a hardened coquette would not dare to touch upon, led me into the common error of imputing to flirtation, what was only due to the vmtarnished freshness of happy girlhood.
Finding my advances well received, I began to feel not a little proud of my success, and disposed to plimie myself upon the charm of my eloquence, when, as I concluded a high-flown and inflated phrase of sentimental absurdity, she suddenly turned round, fixed her bright eyes upon me, and burst out into a fit of laugiiter.
" There, there ; pray don't try that : no one but an Irishman ever
■I
J
JACK HINTON, TUE GUARBSMAN. 69
succeeds in blarney. It is our national dish, and can never be seasoned by a stranger."
This pvdl up, for such it most effectually was, completely unmanned me. I tried to stammer out an explanation, endeavoured to laugh, coughed, blundered, and broke down ; while, merciless in her triumph, she only laughed the more, and seemed to enjoy my confusion.
With such a failure hanging over me, I felt happy when we reached the supper-room ; and the crash, din, and confusion about us once more broke in upon our conversation. It requires far less nerve for the dis- mounted jockey, whose gay jacket has been rolled in the mud of a race- course, resuming his saddle, to ride in amid the jeers and scoffs of ten thousand spectators, than for the gallant who has blundered in the full tide of a flirtation, to recover his lost position, and sustain the current of his courtship. The sarcasm of our sex is severe enough, heaven knows ; but no raillery, no ridicule, cuts half so sharp or half so deep as the bright twinkle of a pretty girl's eye, when, detecting some exhibition of dramatized passion, some false glitter of pinchbeck sentiment, she exchanges her look of gratified attention, for the merry mockery of a hearty laugh: no tact, no savoir faire, no knowledge of the world, no old soldierism, that ever I heard of, was proof against this. To go back is bad ; to stand still, worse ; to go on, impossible. The best — for I believe it is the only thing to do — is to turn approver on your own misdeeds, and join in the laughter against yourself. Now this requires no common self- mastery, and an aplomb few yoimg gentlemen under twenty possess, hence both my failure and its punishment.
That staircase which, but a moment before, I wished might be as long as a journey to Jerusalem, I now escaped from with thankfulness. Con- cealing my discomfiture as well as I was able, I bustled about, and finally secured a place for ray companion at one of the side tables. We were too far from the head of the table, but the clear ringing of his grace's laughter informed me of his vicinity, and, as I saw Miss BeUew shrank from approacliing that part of the room, I surrendered my curiosity to the far more grateful task of cultivating her acquaintance.
AU the ardour of ray attentions — and I had resumed them with nearly as much warmth, although less risk of discomfiture, for I began to feel what before 1 had only professed — all the preoccupation of my mind, could not prevent my hearing high above the crash and clatter of the tables the rich roundness of Mrs. Rooney's brogue, as she recounted to the duke some interesting trait of the O' Toole family, or adverted to some classical era in Irish history, when, possibly, Mecaenas was mayor of Cork, or Diogenes an alderman of Skinner's-alley.
*' Ah ! my dear ! — the Lord forgive me, I mean your grace."
" I shall never forgive you, Mrs, Rooney, if you change the epithet."
" Ah! your grace's worship, them was fine times; and the husband of an O'Toole, in them days, spent more of his time harreying the country with his troops at his back, than driving about in an old gig full of writs and latitats, with a process-server beside him."
Had Mr. Rooney, who at tliut moment was caiving a hare in
70 OUU MB36.
total ignorance of his wife's sarcasm, only heard the speech, the chances are ten to one he would have figured in a steel breast-plate and an iron head-piece before tlie week was over. I was unable to hear more of the conversation, notwithstanding my great m ish to do so, as a movement of those next the door implied that a large instalment of the guests who had not supped, would wait no longer ; but were about to make what Mr. Kooney called a forcible entry on a summary process, and eject the tenant in jjossession.
We accordingly rose, and all (save the party around the viceroy) along with us, once more to visit the baU-room, where already dancing had begun. Wliile I was eagerly endeavouring to persuade Miss Bellew that there was no cause or just impediment to prevent her dancing the next set with me, Lord Dudley de Vere lounged affectedly forward, and nmmbled out some broken indistinct phrases, in which the word da — ance was alone audible. Miss Bellew coloured slightly, turned her eyes towards me, courtesied, took his arm, and the next moment was lust amid tiie crowd.
I am not aware of any readier method of forming a notion of the per- petual motion, than watching the performance of Sir Roger de Coverly at an evening party in Dublin. It seems to be a point of honour never to give in ; and thus the same complicated figures, the same mystic move- ments that you see in the beginning, continue to succeed each otlier in a never-ending series. You endeavour in vain to detect the plan, to unravel the tangled web of this strange ceremony ; but somehow it would seem as if tlie whole thing was completely discretionary with the dancers, there being only one point of agreement among them, which is, when- ever blown and out of breath, to join in a vigorous hands-round ; and, the motion being confined to a shuffling of the feet and a shaking of the elbows, little fatigue is incurred. To this succeeds a capering, for- ward movement of a gentleman, which seemingly magnetizes an oppo- site lady to a similar exhibition : then, after seizing each other raptu- rously by the hands, they separate to run the gauntlet in and out down tiie whole line of dancers, to meet at the bottom, when, apparently reconciled, they once more embrace. What follows, the devil himsetf may tell. As for me, I heard only laughing, tittering, now and then a slight