The Major's quarters were fixed in one of the best houses in the town,
in the comfortable back-parlour of which was now displayed a little
table laid for three persons. A devilled lobster, the grouse-pie already
mentioned, some fried ham, and crisped potatoes were the viands; but
each was admirable in its kind, and with the assistance of an excellent
bowl of hot punch and the friendly welcome of the host, left nothing to
be desired.
Major Bob Mahon was a short, thickset little man, with round blue
eyes, a turned-up nose, and a full under lip, which he had a habit of
protruding with an air of no mean pretension; a short crop of curly
black hair covered a head as round as a billiard-ball. These traits,
with a certain peculiar smack of his mouth, by which he occasionally
testified the approval of his own eloquence, were the most remarkable
things about him. His great ambition was to be thought a military man;
but somehow his pretensions in this respect smacked much more of the
militia than the line. Indeed, he possessed a kind of adroit way of
asserting the superiority of the former to the latter, averring that
they who fought _pro arts et focis_--the Major was fond of Latin--stood
on far higher ground than the travelled mercenaries who only warred for
pay. This peculiarity, and an absurd attachment to practical jokes, the
result of which had frequently through life involved him in lawsuits,
damages, compensations, and even duels, formed the great staple of his
character--of all which the good priest informed me most fully on our
way to the house.
'Captain Hinton, I believe,' said the Major, as he held out his hand in
welcome.
'Mr. Hinton,' said I, bowing.
'Ay, yes; Father Tom, there, doesn't know much about these matters. What
regiment, pray?'
'The Grenadier Guards.'
'Oh, a very good corps--mighty respectable corps; not that, between
ourselves, I think overmuch of the regulars; between you and me, I never
knew foreign travel do good to man or beast. What do they bring back
with them, I'd like to know?--French cookery and Italian licentiousness.
No, no; give me the native troops! You were a boy at the time, but maybe
you have heard how they behaved in the west, when Hoche landed. Egad! if
it wasn't for the militia the country was sacked. I commanded a company
of the Roscommon at the time. I remember well we laid siege to a
windmill, held by a desperate fellow, the miller--a resolute character,
Mr. Hinton; he had two guns in the place with him.'
'I wish to the Lord he had shot you with one of them, and we 'd have
been spared this long story!' said the priest.
'I opened a parallel----'
'Maybe you 'd open the pie?' said the priest, as he drew his chair, and
sat down to the table. 'Perhaps you forget, Bob, we have had a sharp
ride of it this evening?'
'Upon my conscience, so I did,' replied the Major good-humouredly. 'So
let us have a bit of supper now, Mr. Hinton, and I'll finish my story
by-and-by.'
'The Heavens forbid!' piously ejaculated the priest, as he helped
himself to a very considerable portion of the lobster.
'Is this a fast, Father Loftus?' said I slyly.
'No, my son, but we'll make it one. That reminds me of what happened
to me going up in the boat. It was a Friday, and the dinner, as you
may suppose, was not over-good; but there was a beautiful cut of fried
salmon just before me--about a pound and a half, maybe two pounds; this
I slipped quietly on my plate, observing to the company, in this way,
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a fast day with me”--when a big fellow,
with red whiskers, stooped across the table, cut my bit of fish in two
halves, calling out as he carried off one, “Bad scran to ye! d'ye think
nobody has a soul to be saved but yourself?”'
'Ah, they're a pious people, are the Irish!' said the Major solemnly,
'and you'll remark that when you see more of them. And now, Captain, how
do you like us here?'
'Exceedingly,' said I, with warmth. 'I have had every reason to be
greatly pleased with Ireland.'
'That's right! and I'm glad of it! though, to be sure, you have not seen
us in our holiday garb. Ah, if you were here before the Union; if you
saw Dublin as I remember it--and Tom there remembers it--“that was a
pleasant place.” It was not trusting to balls and parties, to dinners
and routs, but to all kinds of fun and devilment besides. All the
members of Parliament used to be skylarking about the city, playing
tricks on one another, and humbugging the Castle people. And, to be
sure, the Castle was not the grave, stupid place it is now--they were
convivial, jovial fellows----'
'Come, come, Major,' interrupted I; 'you are really unjust--the present
court is not the heavy----'
'Sure, I know what it is well enough. Hasn't the duke all the privy
council and the bishops as often to dinner as the garrison and the bar?
Isn't he obliged to go to his own apartment when they want to make a
night of it, and sing a good chorus? Don't tell me! Sure, even as late
as Lord Westmorland's time it was another thing--pleasant and happy
times they were, and the country will never be the same till we have
them back again!'
Being somewhat curious to ascertain in what particular our degeneracy
consisted--for in my ignorance of better, I had hitherto supposed the
present regime about as gay a thing as need be--I gradually led the
Major on to talk of those happier days when Ireland kept all its fun for
home consumption, and never exported even its surplus produce.
'It was better in every respect,' responded the Major. 'Hadn't we all
the patronage amongst us? There's Jonah, there--Harrington, I mean;
well, he and I could make anything, from a tide-waiter to a master in
Chancery. It's little trouble small debts gave us then; a pipe of sherry
never cost me more than a storekeeper in the ordnance, and I kept my
horses at livery for three years with a washwoman to Kilmainham Hospital
And as for fun--look at the Castle now! Don't I remember the times when
we used to rob the coaches coming from the drawing-rooms; and pretty
girls they were inside of them.'
'For shame, for shame!' cried Father Tom, with a sly look in the corner
of his eye that by no means bespoke a suitable degree of horror at such
unwarrantable proceedings.
'Well, if it was a shame it was no sin,' responded the Major; 'for we
never took anything more costly than kisses. Ah, dear me! them was the
times! And, to be sure, every now and then we got a pull-up from the
Lady lieutenant, and were obliged to behave ourselves for a week or two
together. One thing she never could endure was a habit we had of leaving
the Castle before they themselves left the ball-room. I'm not going to
defend it--it was not very polite, I confess; but somehow or other there
was always something going on we couldn't afford to lose--maybe a
supper at the barrack, or a snug party at Daly's, or a bit of fun
elsewhere. Her Excellency, however, got angry about it, and we got a
quiet hint to reform our manners. This, I need not tell you, was a
hopeless course; so we hit on an expedient that answered to the full as
well. It was by our names being called out, as the carriages drove up,
that our delinquency became known. So Matt Fortescue suggested that we
should adopt some feigned nomenclature, which would totally defy every
attempt at discovery; the idea was excellent, and we traded on it for
many a day with complete success. One night, however, from some cause or
other, the carriages were late in arriving, and we were all obliged to
accompany the court into the supper-room. Angry enough we were; but
still there was no help for it; and so, “smiling through tears,” as the
poet says, in we went. Scarcely, however, had we taken our places when a
servant called out something from the head of the stairs; another
re-echoed it at the ante-chamber, and a third at the supper-room shouted
out, “Oliver Cromwell's carriage stops the way!” The roar of laughter
the announcement caused shook the very room; but it had scarcely
subsided when there was another call for “Brian Boru's coach,” quickly
followed by “Guy Fawkes” and “Paddy O'Rafferty's jingle,” which latter
personage was no other than the Dean of Cork. I need not tell you that
we kept our secret, and joined in the universal opinion of the whole
room, “that the household was shamefully disguised in drink”; and indeed
there was no end to the mistakes that night, for every now and then some
character in heathen or modern history would turn up among the
announcements; and as the laughter burst forth, the servants would grow
ashamed for a while, and refuse to call any carriage where the style and
title was a little out of the common. Ah, Mr. Hinton, if you had lived
in those days! Well, well, no matter--here's a glass to their memory,
anyway. It is the first time you 've been in these parts, and I suppose
you haven't seen much of the country?'
'Very little indeed,' replied I; 'and even that much only by moonlight.'
'I'm afraid,' said Father Tom, half pensively, 'that many of your
countrymen take little else than a “dark view” of us.'
'See now,' said the Major, slapping his hand on the table with energy,
'the English know as much about Pat as Pat knows of purgatory--no
offence to you, Mr. Hinton. I could tell you a story of a circumstance
that once happened to myself.'
No, no, Bob,' said the priest; 'it is bad taste to tell a story _en petit
comité_. I'll leave it to the Captain.'
'If I am to be the judge,' said I laughingly, 'I decide for the story.'
'Let's have it, then,' said the priest. 'Come, Bob, a fresh brew, and
begin your tale.'
'You are a sensual creature, Father Tom,' said the Major, 'and prefer
drink to intellectual discussion; not but that you may have both here
at the same time. But in honour of my friend beside me, I'll not bear
malice, but give you the story; and let me tell you, it is not every day
in the week a man hears a tale with a moral to it, particularly down in
this part of the country.'