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 a line; his Grace's led horses were
ordered up, and staff-officers galloped right and left to announce the
orders for the troops to stand to arms.
As the Duke descended from his carriage he caught my eye, and turning
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 consequence.
You see her carriage yonder--they have made some blunder in the road,
and the dragoons, it seems, wont let them pass. Just canter down and
rescue them.”
“Do, pray, Mr. Hinton,” added the Duchess. “Poor Lady Killimore 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
where 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, I could 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 breathless
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 with
the sergeant of the horse police.
“You must go back--can't help it, ma'am--nothing but the members of the
household can pass this way.”
“Oh dear! where's Captain O'Grady?--sure it's not possible I could be
treated this way. Paul, take that man's name, and mind you have 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 that
direction, and I beheld one of the most beautiful girls I ever looked
at, holding her handkerchief to her month to conceal her laughter. Her
dark eyes flashed, and her features 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 show 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 Pole? Is
it----”
I did not wait for a further supposition, but in a most insinuating
voice, added,
“Mr. Hinton, my lady, extra aide-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----”
“Madam,” said I, bowing stiffly, “I am really at a loss to understand
your meaning.”
“Oh, forgive me, 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 occurred,
directed me to ride over and accompany your Ladyship to the viceregal
stand.”
Poor Lady Kil----'s nervousness again seized her, and, with a faint 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
young lady's conduct, who, instead of evincing the slightest sympathy
for her mother, held her head down, and seemed to shake with laughter.
By this time, however, the postilions were again under way, and, after
ten minutes' sharp trotting, we entered the grand stand, with whips
cracking, ribbons fluttering, and I myself caracoling 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. The only thing to do, therefore, was,
to place them as conveniently as I could, and hasten back to inform her
Grace of the success of my mission. As I approached her carriage I was
saluted by a burst of laughter 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?”
“Tell her Grace,” said the Duke, with his hand upon his mouth, unable to
finish the sentence with laughter.
I saw something was wrong, and that I was in some infernal scrape,
still, resolved to go through 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 turned towards a
spiteful-looking dowager beside her.
Here was a mess! So, bowing and backing, I dropped through the crowd to
where my companions still stood convulsed with merriment.
“What, in the devil's name, is it?” said I to O'Grady “Whom have I been
escorting this half-hour?”
“You've immortalised yourself,” said O'Grady, with a roar of laughter.
“Your bill at twelve months for five hundred pounds is as good this
moment as bank paper.”
“What is it?” said I, losing all patience. “Who is she?”
“Mrs. Paul 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 _à
discrétion_: 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. Paul--oh, confound her! I can never endure the sight of her again!”
“My dear young friend,” replied O'Grady, with an affected seriousness,
“I see that already the prejudices of your very silly countrymen have
worked their effect upon you. Had not Lord Dudley de Vere given you such
a picture of the Rooney family, you would probably 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.”
“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 himself. Confound them! look how they are all laughing
about us. Indeed, from the 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.
“This is pleasant,” thought I; “this is really a happy _début_: that I,
whose unimpeachable accuracy of manner and address should have won for
me, at the Prince's levee, the approbation of the first gentleman of
Europe, should here, among these semi-civilised savages, become an
object of ridicule and laughter. My father told me they 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 sarcasm 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
found comfort in the thought that the ridicule attached to me rather
proceeded from the low standard of manners and habits about me than from
anything 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 whose 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 thunder of cannon, the deafening roll of drums, the tramp
of cavalry, and the measured footfall of the infantry columns, 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.