I am by no means certain that the prejudices of my English education
were sufficiently overcome to prevent my feeling a kind of tingling shame
as I took my place beside Father Tom Loftus in his gig. Early as it was,
there were still some people about; and I cast a hurried glance around
to see if our equipage was not as much a matter of amusement to them as
of affliction to me.
When Father Tom first spoke of his 'dennet,' I innocently pictured to
myself something resembling the indigenous productions of Loughrea.
'A little heavy or so,' thought I; 'strong for country roads; mayhap
somewhat clumsy in the springs, and not over-refined about the shafts.'
Heaven help my ignorance! I never fancied a vehicle whose component
parts were two stout poles, surmounting a pair of low wheels, high above
which was suspended, on two lofty C springs, the body of an ancient
buggy--the lining of a bright scarlet, a little faded and dimmed
by time, bordered by a lace of the most gaudy pattern; a flaming
coat-of-arms, with splendid blazonry and magnificent quarterings,
ornamented each panel of this strange-looking tub, into which, for
default of steps, you mounted by a ladder.
'Eh, father,' said I, 'what have we here? This is surely not the----'
'Ay, Captain,' said the good priest, as a smile of proud satisfaction
curled his lip, 'that's “the convaniency”; and a pleasanter and an
easier never did man sit in. A little heavy, to be sure; but then one
can always walk up the hills; and if they're very stiff ones entirely,
why it's only throwing out the ballast.'
'The ballast! What do you mean?'
'Just them,' said he, pointing with his whip to some three or four huge
pieces of limestone rock that lay in the bottom of the gig; 'there's
seven, maybe eight, stone weight, every pound of it.'
'And for heaven's sake,' said I, 'why do you carry that mass of rubbish
along with you?'
'I'll just tell you then. The road has holes in it you could bury your
father in; and when the convaniency gets into one of them, she has a way
of springing up into the air, that, if you 're not watching, is sure
to pitch you out--maybe into the bog at the side, maybe on the beast's
back. I was once actually thrown into a public-house window, where
there was a great deal of fun going on, and the bishop came by before
I extricated myself. I assure you I had hard work to explain it to his
satisfaction.' There was a lurking drollery in his eye, as he said
these last few words, that left me to the full as much puzzled about
the accident as his worthy diocesan. 'But look at the springs,' he
continued; 'there's metal for you! And do you mind the shape of the
body? It's for all the world like the ancient _curriculus_. And look at
Bathershin himself--the ould varmint! Sure, he's classical too!
Hasn't he a Roman nose; and ain't I a Roman myself? So get up,
Captain--_ascendite ad currum_; get into the shay. And now for the
_doch-aiv-dhurrss_--the stirrup-cup, Mrs. Doolan: that's the darlin'.
Ah, there's nothing like it!
“Sit mihi lagena, Ad summum plena.”
Here, Captain, take a pull--beautiful milk-punch!'
Draining the goblet to the bottom, which I confess was no unpleasant
task, I pledged my kind hostess, who, curtsying deeply refilled the
vessel for Father Tom.
'That's it, Mary; froth it up, acushla! Hand it here, my darlin'--my
blessing on ye.'
As he spoke, the worthy father deposited the reins at his feet, and
lifted the cup with both hands to his mouth; when suddenly the little
window over the inn door was burst open, and a loud tally-ho was shouted
out, in accents the wildest I ever listened to. I had barely time to
catch the merry features of poor Tipperary Joe, when the priest's horse,
more accustomed to the hunting-field than the highroad, caught up the
welcome sound, gave a wild toss of his head, cocked up his tail, and,
with a hearty bang of both hind legs against the front of the chariot,
set off down the street as if the devil were after him. Feeling himself
at liberty, as well as favoured by the ground, which was all down hill,
the pace was really terrific. It was some time before I could gather
up the reins, as Father Tom, jug and all, had been thrown at the
first shock on his knees to the bottom of the convaniency, where, half
suffocated by fright and the milk-punch that went wrong with him, he
bellowed and coughed with all his might.
[Illustration: 380]
'Howld him tight I--ugh, ugh, ugh!--not too hard; don't chuck him for
the love of--ugh, ugh, ugh!--the reins is rotten and the traces no
better--ugh, ugh, ugh! Bad luck to the villains, why didn't they catch
his head? And the _stultus execrabilis!_--the damned fool! how he
yelled!'
Almost fainting with laughter, I pulled my best at the old horse,
not, however, neglecting the priest's caution about the frailty of the
harness. This, however, was not the only difficulty I had to contend
with; for the curriculus, participating in the galloping action of the
horse, swung upwards and downwards, backwards and forwards, and from
one side to the other--all at once too--in a manner so perfectly addling
that it was not before we reached the first turnpike that I succeeded in
arresting our progress. Here a short halt was necessary for the priest
to recover himself, and to examine whether either his bones or any
portion of the harness had given way. Both had happily been found proof
against mishaps, and drew from the reverend father strong encomiums upon
their merits; and after a brief delay we resumed our road, but at a much
more orderly and becoming pace than before.
Once more _en route_, I bethought me it was high time to inquire about
the direction we were to travel, and the probable length of our journey;
for I confess I was sadly ignorant as to the geography of the land we
were travelling, and the only point I attempted to keep in view was the
number of miles we were distant from the capital The priest's reply was,
however, anything but instructive to me, consisting merely of a long
catalogue of names, in which the syllables 'kill,' 'whack,' 'nock,'
'shock,' and 'bally' jostled and elbowed one another in the rudest
fashion imaginable--the only intelligible portion of his description
being, that a blue mountain scarcely perceptible in the horizon lay
about half-way between us and Murranakilty.
My attention was not, however, permitted to dwell on these matters;
for my companion had already begun a narrative of the events which had
occurred during my illness. The Dillons, I found, had left for Dublin
soon after my mishap. Louisa Bellew returned to her father; and Mr.
Burke, whose wound had turned out a more serious affair than was at
first supposed, was still confined to his bed, and a lameness for life
anticipated as the inevitable result of the injury.
'Sir Simon, for once in his life,' said the priest, 'has taken a correct
view of his nephew's character, and has, now that all danger to life is
past, written him a severe letter, reflecting on his conduct. Poor
Sir Simon! his life has been one tissue of trial and disappointment
throughout. Every buttress that supported his venerable house giving
way, one by one, the ruin seems to threaten total downfall, ere the old
man exchanges the home of his fathers for his last narrow rest beside
them in the churchyard. Betrayed on every hand, wronged and ruined, he
seems merely to linger on in life--like the stern-timbers of some mighty
wreck, that marks the spot where once the goodly vessel perished, and
are now the beacon of the quicksand to others. You know the sad story,
of course, that I alluded to----'
'No; I am completely ignorant of the family history,' said I.
The priest blushed deeply, as his dark eyebrows met in a heavy frown;
then turning hastily towards me, he said, in a voice whose thick, low
utterance bespoke his agitation--
'Do not ask me, I beseech you, to speak further of what, had I been more
collected, I had never alluded to! An unhappy duel, the consequence of
a still more unhappy event, has blasted every hope in life for my poor
friend. I thought--that is, I feared lest the story might have reached
you. As I find this is not so, you will spare my recurring to that the
bare recollection of which comes like a dark cloud over the happiest day
of my existence. Promise me this, or I shall not forgive myself.'
I readily gave the pledge he required; and we pursued our road--not,
however, as before, but each sunk in his own reflections, silent,
reserved, and thoughtful.
'In about four days,' said Father Tom, at last breaking the silence,
'perhaps five, we'll be drawing near Murranakilty. He then proceeded, at
more length, to inform me of the various counties through which we were
to pass, detailing with great accuracy the several seats we should see,
the remarkable places, the ruined churches, the old castles, and even
the very fox-covers that lay on our route. And although my ignorance
was but little enlightened by the catalogue of hard names that fell
as glibly from his tongue as Italian from a Roman, yet I was both
entertained and pleased with the many stories he told--some of them
legends of bygone days, some of them the more touching and truth-dealing
records of what had happened in his own time. Could I have borrowed any
portion of his narrative power, were I able to present in his strong but
simple language any of the curious scenes he mentioned, I should perhaps
venture on relating to my reader one of his stories; but when I
think how much of the interest depended on his quaint and homely but
ever-forcible manner, as, pointing with his whip to some ruined house
with blackened walls and fallen chimneys, he told some narrative of
rapine and of murder, I feel how much the force of reality added power
to a story that in repetition might be weak and ineffective.